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gingersxng · 6 days

Text

Inappropriate Touching

Pairing: f!reader x Seonghwa x Yunho x Mingi x San

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: walking down the hallways on your new exciting job you came across a group of young handsome actors.. but it soon turns out acting and reality isn’t that far away from each other.

Notes: sub!reader, rough doms! Yunho, Mingi, San, Seonghwa, reader is a virgin, the boys are big perverts!!! ,they have no self control, much inappropriate touching!!!(which is not ok irl), adult movies, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling, love, kitten, honey), groping, kissing, some cursing, fingering, oral (f receiving), licking, spitting, cum cum cum, cum eating, threesome, foursome, mentions of masturbation, dirty comments, unprotected sex (always be safe),rough sex, public sex, big dick yungi, marking (hickeys, bite marks), breeding, double penetration, slight bulge kink, recording. forgot something? maby

Words: 3.7k

it was your first day at your new job at the movie studio. it’s been a life long dream of yours to get to work with big movie stars and now you were finally standing outside the big doors. as you looked up at the sign of the big building you took a deep breath before finally heading inside to get started.

you felt like a child in a candy store watching all the pictures on the walls of famous actors and actresses. you were soon greeted by a young woman maby a few years older than you, she was looking so professional with a black jumpsuit, black glasses and red long hair in a big bun.

“hi are you the new assistant?” she asked softly. “yes i am, I’m y/n” you said as you shaked her hand. “I’m Joanne, I’m gonna show you around a bit to make it a little easier for you” a smile formed on your face. she showed you all different sets from both new and old movies, you had also met many movie stars and staff while you walked around the big halls. you were coming to your final part of your little “tour” when Joanne stopped dragging you to the side.

“we have to be quiet cause they’re in the middle of rehearsals”. she whispered, didn’t sound as she cared to much. you didn’t really understand what kind of movie they were making but there were four men dressed roughly in suits, black ties and some of them had smeared lipstick on their mouths. a woman later appeared around the men and you finally got an answer on your early movie question. you felt yourself blush as you observed what they did to that woman, eyes wide. “c’mon let’s go, I’ll show you your room” she grabbed your arm and dragged you with her. it was kinda quiet down the hallways to your room and so were you. Joanne finally broke the ice. “I probably should give you a small warning but you have to keep this to yourself, okay?” she said with a half worried look on her face. “alright I promise” you suddenly got anxious.

you stopped outside the door to your room. “don’t be too sweet towards those guys back there, they can get a little too friendly if you know what I mean” she whispered so no one but you could hear her. your eyes widened not believing what she was saying, they were just acting.. wasn’t they? “I don’t wanna scare you or anything but it’s better to warn you if you would bump into one of them”. you found yourself speechless and your thoughts went all over the place, first day at your new job and now you should watch out for creeps?

“they didn’t look old tho” you suddenly said. “no, as I saw on your CV they’re two and three years older than you” your eyes widened once again. she was about to say something but were interrupted by footsteps coming your way and by the sound of the voices it was them, well two of them. your heart pumped hard in your chest watching as they came closer.

“looking good today Jo” one of them blurted out giving Joanne a wink. the taller guy got very close to her while a smirk appeared on his face “your ass looks great in this suit too” he said as he gave her ass a squeeze. you literally couldn’t believe what you were witnessing and she just let them do this to her. they were soon turning their attention to you, fuck.

“what do we have here huh?” the tall one said looking you up and down. he was so tall but actually very good looking, you started to blush and that’s just what they wanted you to.. “it’s our new assistant y/n and it’s her first day so keep your hands to yourself Yunho!” Joanne snapped. he guided his hand through his hair and let out a deep chuckle, omg! “nice to meet you y/n” both of them greeted you. you gave them a small smile and crossed your arms so your cleavage got more visible and that was a big mistake. their eyes acted like magnets, getting dragged to your breasts. you knew she’d given you a warning but there was something about them giving you all this attention that made you excited.

“damn looks like a juicy one” the other guy laughed as he eyed his tall friend. Yunho let out a quiet laugh as he looked you straight into your eyes, his smile dropping fast. he took a step closer to you and got interrupted by your friend. “alright, she’s not interested in you two” she said trying to get them to leave. actually you were beginning to get a little bit interested in them but maby it was best to keep that to yourself. Yunho gave your ass a light slap as he passed you with a smirking grin on his face. the other man reached out his hand brushing it against your stomach and up to your breasts, he stuck his tongue out and gave you a wink. “Seonghwa!! you pervert!” Jo slapped him on the shoulder.

they had finally got out of sight and you could finally let out a deep breath trying to take in everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. “I’m so sorry y/n but this is something you should get used to if you’re gonna work here” she told you looking really pissed off by the boy’s behaviour against you. you couldn’t help but smile a little, “it’s alright”. she finally left you alone and you got into your room to get some rest. it didn’t take many minutes before you were interrupted by a knock on your door, you got up and peeped out trough the little window to see another tall guy standing outside. you opened and were greeted with a smile from the big guy. “hey sweetheart, I’m Mingi” his voice were deep and vibrated right through you. you didn’t get a chance to introduce yourself before he grabbed your arms and pushed you further into your room. his actions took you by surprise and you let out a scream. Mingi hurried to put his hand on your mouth to drown your screams, when you finally got quiet he pulled his hand away letting out a chuckle when he saw the scared expression on your face.

“what are you doing!!” you almost cried out looking up at the big boy. he pushed you down onto your desk and grabbed your chin. “my friends told me about the new sexy assistant and I thought I should see if it was true.. and fuck you are gorgeous” he said squeezing your cheeks. you could feel how your thighs began to push together and how your cheeks started to heat up. Mingi brought his head to your neck starting to place sloppy kisses along it up to your ear, his hands working their way to your ass. you really hoped no one would walk in on you making out with one of the “creeps”, even if this was very wrong you didn’t do anything to stop it.

Mingi slipped his hands inside your pants grabbing a handful of your naked ass. small moans left your mouth, your hands went straight to his hair and he let out a deep groan. “you like this huh?” Mingi whispered as he pulled your jeans off you. “yes” you whispered back. he pushed you down onto your back and separated your legs exposing your clothed core to him, your panties were off you in a flash and your hole were stuffed with two of his fingers. Mingi put his mouth on your clit rolling his tongue over the sensitive nub, your back arched at the new pleasure. “you taste so good” he growled against your clit. he added a third finger and fastened his pace on your clit making a moaning mess out of you.

“here you are!!” Seonghwa bursted into your room, his eyes darkened as soon as he saw the position you were in. you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed having your bare pussy on display in front of the new man. “I see you’ve met the pussy eater” Seonghwa pushed Mingis head down harder on your pussy receiving moans from both of you. Mingi pulled away his slime covered face from your core. “says the guy who puts his hands down women’s tops” Mingi glared at the older man. “I can’t help it” Seonghwa threw a bitter look at him, he walked over to you and slid his hands inside your top and bra grabbing your firm breasts. he looked down at your pleasure filled face, he got closer to your face and attacked your lips kissing you upside down. it was messy and hot and you could feel how you got closer to your release. Seonghwa broke the kiss and squeezed your boobs hard making you squeak. “open your mouth kitten” you did as he said and watched as he gathered some saliva that he spit down into your mouth, you swallowed it and once again he was back kissing you.

Mingi was biting your clit sending electric waves up to your brain. he felt how your pussy clenched around his fingers and he curved them to hit the spongy spot inside you making you see white. your breath hitched in your throat and you moaned into Seonghwas mouth when you came onto Mingis fingers. both of them laughed at you when they saw how fucked out you looked. Mingi licked up all the cum from your hole. “sorry but we have to go back to the set kitten, believe me I’d rather fuck you than that bitch” Seonghwa grunted pushing his face in between your breasts licking a stripe along your cleavage. Mingi stole your panties sneaking them into his pocket and gave your pussy a quick kiss before they left.

- next day -

you had some free time so you were strolling through the building sneaking in to watch some movies in the making. a hand brushed against your ass and you quickly turned around to see yet another new face. the man scanned your body taking you all in, he leaned forward and brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “enjoying yourself kitten?” you gulped and straightened yourself up feeling how your legs began to weaken. “y-yes I do” you fumbled not knowing were to look. an amusing look painted his face when he saw the affect he had on you. he took your hand and brought you with him to their movie set, the grip he had on your hand were firm to keep you from running away if you wanted to.

they were in the middle of a break so they had some time for you. the three other men sat down in a big round sofa that was down in a dark corner, the handsome muscular man pulled you with him. their eyes lit up as soon as you got in their sight, you blushed hard and began to bite the nail on your thumb, it really made you look innocent.

“look who I found standing all alone in the halls” the man pushed you forward so you stood in front of the other three. you could see how they were undressing you with their eyes and by the tents in their pants, they really liked what they saw. Yunho grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on his lap, you shivered at the feeling of his erection poking at your ass. he tugged at your skirt and caressed your soft thighs watching as goosebumps appeared. he put his mouth to your ear and whispered “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday, maby I could get a pic of that sweet ass if yours huh?”. his words went straight to your pussy, feeling how you got wetter by the second. “why would you want that?” you said innocently looking him in the eyes knowing exactly why he wanted it. Yunho raised an eyebrow and dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass “so I have something to watch as I’m playing with my dick” the guy chuckled. the other guys laughed at his comment. you were stuck between these four men and your mind started to run wild the more they showed how much they wanted to use you.

“do you have a boyfriend doll?” Mingi slipped out. you shook your head and the look on his face turned devilish, you pushed your thighs together more. “are you a virgin?” Yunho asked pulling your skirt up slowly waiting for an answer. you stayed quiet for a few seconds looking around at the men. “yeah, I am” your voice dropped and you felt so embarrassed. something in them snapped and suddenly they seemed hornier than ever. Seonghwa stuck his hand down your top to… dang he got interrupted. you got company by a known friend, it was Jo. she was looking for you and couldn’t believe she would find you here of all places. “what are you doing here y/n?” she was surprised to see you sitting in Yunhos lap with Seonghwas hand down your top. “I’m working..” was the first thing you could think of. Seonghwa fought the urge to pull out your breasts from your top, he usually didn’t have much self control but for your sake he made an exception. “you guys are sick” she said before she finally left.

Seonghwa couldn’t hold it in anymore and pulled out your boobs from your bra, his mouth watered at the sight of your hardened red nipples, he brushed his thumb over them and you let out a small whimper. Yunho lifted you up and handed you over to San, the big man squeezed you against his chest. “don’t move doll, my grip will only get tighter” he bucked his hips up against your ass, his clothed hardness poking you right between your cheeks. Yunho unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants enough for his massive cock to spring free standing up against his stomach. the sight was making your arousal drip down your inner thighs and you crossed your legs standing in Sans embrace. Yunho patted his thigh signaling San to release you. “come sit love” he held a hand out to you. you walked over to the tall man, he turned you around back facing him while pulling up your skirt. the lack of underwear made him groan “no panties huh? what a good girl, all ready for us to abuse” his deep voice almost breaking you.

San slid his fingers through your folds, your arousal was smeared out on your inner thighs and he could slip in two fingers with ease, after feeling how tight you were he pulled them out again turning to the tall guy. “she’s so tight you’re gonna split her in half with your monster cock” Sans words brought a worried look to your face. Yunho slapped your ass “we don’t use condoms btw, hope that’s alright with you love?” you nodded and with that he sunk you down on his big cock, the wetness made it almost too easy for him to bottom out. it was a long moan that left your lips as you felt your pussy being stretched to the max. as Yunho were bouncing you up and down his dick San was attacking your lips and Seonghwa had got dibs on your breasts marking them as his own. it felt like you were in some kind of erotic dream, they dragged out moans and whimpers out of you leaving you a fucking mess.

Mingi had pulled out his cock too, he spat in his hand and pumped his length a few times. he got up from the sofa and pushed the other two out of the way, he pushed your back against Yunhos chest and positioned himself onto you bringing his cock to your already stuffed hole. “it won’t fit idiot” San mocked the man. “I’ll make it fit” Mingi pushed the tip into your pussy making you scream, tears falling down your cheeks. Yunho pulled out a bit for Mingi to fit better, he then dried your tears with his thumb. Yunho and Mingi occupied each side of your neck while they pumped their massive dicks into your gushy hole. “fuck I swear it feels a thousand times better when she’s a virgin” Mingi groaned into your ear. a familiar feeling appeared in your stomach and it got worse with each of their thrusts. Mingi pushed your knees up to your chest getting better and deeper access, the bulge on your stomach drove him crazy. “I’m gonna cum” Yunho warned. “are you gonna let us breed you honey? let us knock you up” he growled as his thrusts got faster. being all over the place you couldn’t get a single word out but you nodded and moaned in response, your mouth hung open.

“knock her up already we’re getting impatient here” Seonghwa whined as he palmed his cock through his pants. a couple more thrusts and both men released their big loads deep inside you, their hair had gotten more messy and they had beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads. the cum were seeping out between their cocks, they pulled out and laid you down onto your back. Yunho pushed the cum back inside your abused pussy, a proud smirk forming on his face. “in a few months we want to see this pretty belly of yours grow darling” Mingi teased you, he took a handful of your little belly fat and squeezed it.

San was quick to swap places with Yunho, impatiently he pulled out his leaking cock and towered over your half naked form. he slid the tip in slowly until he was fully seated pushing both Mingis and Yunhos cum further inside you, his pace quickened fast and his hold onto your sides grew harder. “fuuck, this little pussy of yours is driving me insane” San growled, his feline eyes pierced holes through you. his mouth assaulted your sore nipples while he slammed his hips against yours with all the strength he had. you began to cry and your whole body started to hurt. Seonghwa kissed you harshly and wiped your tears away, he moved down to your neck sucking on the flesh leaving purple marks. “don’t cry honey we’ll take care of you” he purred.

you could feel Sans cock twitch, he buried his dick deep inside you letting his release paint your walls white, he stayed like that for a while not wanting any cum to go to waste. the thought of knocking you up made his brain malfunction. San pushed down his hand on your lower stomach to feel how deep he was, with a groan he finally pulled out.

Seonghwa helped you up and sunk you down on his dick. you swung your arms around his neck and buried your face in it, he helped moving your hips up and down his length since your body started to give out. each time his cock brushed against your cervix you were one step closer to your awaited orgasm. “mmh it feels so good” you whispered softly in his pierced ear. Seonghwa took his time with you and wasn’t as rough as the others, not yet anyway. he stilled his movements, you looked him in the eyes with a questioning look wondering why he stopped. a smirk appeared on his face and he turned his gaze to someone else. a pair of strong arms lifted you up on your wobbly legs and Seonghwa followed. “ready to get double stuffed again kitten?” you heard Sans voice behind you, his breath tingled against your ear and it almost made you cum on the spot. you were now sandwiched between the two men, uplifted in their arms. they both placed their tips to your entrance, it was no problem to slide in their hard cocks from all the cum and your insane amount of arousal, plus you got stretched out good a couple minutes ago by two monster cocks. they synced their thrusts as they slammed up into your sensitive core, your high pitched moans was music to their ears. the knot was building up in your stomach and you were so close now, Sans hand toyed with your swollen clit whilst Seonghwa had his fun with your nipples making your eyes turn white.

Seonghwa kissed your collarbone and cooed “cum for us now love”. San bucked up his hips and groped your ass hard, he left a bite mark on your shoulder making you cry out quietly. a few seconds later your orgasm hit you and your whole body turned to jelly, not long after you felt a hot big wave of cum entering you. deep groans left their filthy mouths as they emptied themselves deep inside you. “good girl” San said huskily as he pulled out.

after they’d both pulled out Mingi gave you your panties back that he stole from you yesterday on his little visit. you gave him a tired smile and put them on you. “I should probably go and get some rest” you said as you put your boobs inside your top again. “need some company?” Mingi asked with a nasty smirk on his face. Yunho slapped the big man on his arm “as tempting as it sounds I actually think we should let her rest for a while, she’ll need it” he smiled at you. they gave you small kisses on your face before you headed back to your room.

“she’s a keeper” Mingi said watching as your ass bounced with every step you took. Yunho groaned and placed himself on the sofa again, he took out his phone and let out a light chuckle. “did you get it all?” San asked. “oh yeah I did”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi #yunho x reader #yunho #choi san #san x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader

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lixern · 6 months

Text

; xx. wriothesley x gn!reader , modern au

imagine being in a mall youve never gone to before with your friends, so they know the place and you dont. they give you locations but you just cant memorize them all! you tell your friends youre going to the restroom, and they tell you directions to the restaurant theyre going to so you agree to meet up with them there. well.. when you step out- wait, what was the restaurant's name again?

you ponder for awhile, what is it? but then suddenly forget the directions they gave you. god, you just have to wing it.

well, wing it you didnt! you got lost, and didnt see any of your friends in the restaurants you walked pass. you look around for reliable looking people to ask, and there you see a man with black hair with a few gray streaks, with supeeeeerrrr light blue cute eyes! a few piercings and a wolfish appearance to him. you walk up to him and..

tap tap "hey.. uhm- do you know how to get to.." you say, embarassed. you literally just forgot the name!

aha! nevermind that, you just remembered!

"*******. ya, the restaurant? thats the one i think!"

you look like a lost dog!! infront of the most sculpted man youve ever seen aswell... hes so cute, you shouldve asked someone else for directions or your nose probably wouldve bled infront of him if you didnt keep your composture. especially infront of his friends! they looked so attractive too. long, white hair with blue streaks and a dark purplish blue type of hair color? god, youre surprised how such good looking people exist.

he turns to look at you the second you tap him, and now you realize just how tall he is the way he stares down at you!

"Well sure, but the buildings preeeettty big so you want me to escort you?"

wow.. his voice was super hot too. well- wait! nows not the time to dream!!!

you look at him and nod, too stunned at his appearance to speak. you watch him talk to his friends, hearing them but not listening. he then pats your shoulder, signalling your leave. huh.. maybe youll ask his number later.

you walk with him, a bit flustered at how tall he towers over you. should you engage in conversation, should you stay quiet? how do you avoid embarassing yourself infront of a gods creation?!?!

"so, whats your name?"

the man asks in the middle of your pondering, well atleast you dont have to think about that anymore. so.. you give him your name and ask his!

"well, it's [name]. how bout you?"

you sound pretty cool, but inside you arent!! he sounds so pretty, hes indeed a pretty boy..

"wriothesley." he says with a gentle smile, looking down at you with bright eyes. he seems fond of you, but you dont know that!

"rio- rizzley? wosley??" you try to pronounce the name, failing ultimately.

"wrio, for short." he chuckles, patting you on the back. whats up with all the physical affection its driving you mad!!!!!

you laugh slightly, smiling a bit too sweetly for your first interaction and, he notices. but he doesnt wanna scare you away.. youre just so cute!

you talk and talk with him, and hes the same level of talkative as you are! finally, someone who actually responds to your yapping! you just wish he could be your boyfriend right now.. waitwait. you guys just met no way!

its been about 5 or more minutes you guess, then you see him pull out a white card on his bag and write something on it with a pen. he puts the pen back and shoves the card into his pocket. you then speak up, pointing at a restaurant and asking him if its that one. he says yes, nodding as he does so.

"i can go there by myself now, thanks for the help wrio!"

but no, he disagrees.

"nah, i think ill just bring you there. you might get lost even if its just right there."

he smirks, mischievously at that. but.. its kinda cute not gonna lie. so you just nod and walk with him. his hand slides across your side, your hand then the bag you carry, it drives you insane how close you are!

you finally get there, smiling up at him. admiring his pretty face one more time before having to let the sight go.

"thank you really, for the help- I hope it wasnt a distraction to you and your friends hangout or something..."

a light red tint dusts over his cheeks, as he says a polite "your welcome" before walking away. you first fix your composture before entering, but then suddenly.. wait! you forgot to grab his number!!!

"wrio!" you scream, but hes too far to hear you so you just weep internally in vain, before entering the restaurant.

your friends scold you, its been like 20 minutes since they were there! little do they know you got a bit lost.. you sit down beside them, before noticing the pocket in the bag you carried had a little white card peeking out of it...

on the back of the card in the clearest space there is, you read..

i know its just a business card im sorry aha, pretty shit way to tell you my number yeah? but its all i have right now.

maybe you dont have to say goodbye to his pretty face after all.

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin impact writing

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luveline · 10 months

Note

hi jade! i’m obsessed with ur writing. i also love angst so much idk i was thinking maybe for zombie steve, the stress of post college life and everything gets too much for them and it all kinda blows up into a fight and the reader is thinking like his life would be so much easier if we weren’t dating and then it’s them kind of making up??? totally understandable if u don’t wanna make these poor babies suffer any more but just wanted to throw it out there! haha

thank you for your request lovely <3 steve zombie au —a trivial fight snowballs, and you get some much needed reassurances. fem!reader, 3.5k

"I think you're tired," Steve says.

You pull your backpack higher up your shoulders by the straps. "I'm not tired, Steve."

"You haven't slept well in weeks," he says.

"It's not the point. You're not listening to what I'm saying, you're just looking for the problem."

"Because," he says gingerly, "I know that you wouldn't be saying this if you'd been sleeping. That's all I'm saying."

"You're not listening," you insist.

"I am, I am listening," he says, and he doesn't sound mad, but the ice is thinning. "I get that you think we shouldn't be moving along. I understand what you're saying to me, but I really think you're– it's fatigue. You're sick of moving around, I am too, but you know the risk if we stay somewhere."

"You're not listening to me, though, you're discounting my concern because I'm tired, but if I wasn't tired I'd be saying the same stuff. We can't keep moving around, your knee is still hurting even though you refuse to tell me, and you think I don't know but I do know–"

"So the problem is that I'm not telling you my knee hurts?"

"The problem is that you have no sense of self preservation and also that you're really not listening–"

"I'm listening!" Steve says, his voice peaking.

Robin turns to look from where she's walking just ahead with Sarah and the others. She meets Steve's eyes first and then yours, and she smiles at you tentatively, as if to say, Everything okay?

You shake your head at her. Don't worry about it.

"I'm obviously fucking listening," he mutters, looking to the sun as he combs his hair out of his eyes.

"You don't have to be a jerk about it."

"You're jabbing at me."

"I'm jabbing at you?"

"It's black and white with you today. I say black and you say white, and it's giving me a headache."

You huff a breath out. Arguing with Steve is easy, you did it enough when you first met, but it's different now. It hurts your feelings when he digs in.

"That's not true, I don't need to be contrary to disagree with you," you say.

"But you are! You're just disagreeing with me because you're in a bad mood! You know we need to leave, you know it's the right thing, and I just don't want to listen to it anymore."

"Why? Why is it so hard for you to listen to me? You love me," you say. It sounds odd, nearly questioning, and you both flinch.

"Of course I love you. But I'm tired. I don't want to fight."

"It wasn't a fight until you made it one," you say.

Fight or flight doubles and you rush forward and away from him before you can get anymore heated. He says your name but you ignore him, falling in to step with Robin and Sarah.

She frowns at you apologetically. "Sorry, can I…"

"Yeah," you say quickly. "Of course you can."

Robin smiles and drops back to walk with Steve. They don't speak, and you don't look back, but you're glad she's with him even if you're mad at him; you've argued, but you certainly don't want him on his own at the back of the camp's procession.

Sarah smiles at you. She has big green eyes and pretty red hair, straight as a sheet and shiny as silk despite the circumstances. It's greasy at the top, so at least she's not perfect.

"Hey," she says sympathetically, "are you okay?"

Her asking has a heat brewing behind your eyes, but you find it to be annoyance rather than upset.

You have to force the words out, "I'm fine."

She nods, rolling the cord of her tent around her hand. It drags on the floor. It's the mode of transport the majority of your campmates have chosen for their tents and bags, a hundred pack of bungee cords wrapped around tarps and sacks to take some of the strain off of everyone's shoulders. It looks strange, all those camping bags dragging over dirt and grass.

"Love is very difficult," she says. "I don't envy the fighting. But you and Steve don't fight much. I envy that, how happy you are."

You breathe out slowly. She's nice, and Robin likes her, and you'd rather not take your anger out on her.

"It's not difficult," you say eventually. You roll your neck and whine as it clicks. "It's easy. Just hard lately 'cos things are different."

"I guess it's exhausting having to care about someone else. I can hardly find the energy to care about myself." Sarah laughs gently. "Not that people aren't worth loving, but the energy to look after someone, it must be tiring. What I'm trying to say is, I can see why it would be harder lately 'cos we're not at Oaks anymore, you feel like you're always on high alert trying to stop something bad happening."

You hear what she's saying, but you focus in on the wrong part. It's hard, so hard, having to look after someone. And that's all Steve does.

You look over your shoulder. Steve and Robin are walking side by side, Robin's hand curled around his elbow, her cheek dipped momentarily to his arm. "It'll blow over," you think she says.

Steve nudges her. She nudges back.

"Maybe it would be easier if he didn't have to look after me," you say.

You say it because you want reassurance. Sarah races to give it to you, your shoulders relaxing in tandem as she says, "No way! He wouldn't want that, and you don't either. Try not to worry, Y/N. You just need a breather."

—

You are being so, so quiet. Steve knows you struggle talking to him when you're mad. You're not cruel enough for the silent treatment but there's nothing wrong with needing space. He hates how crabby he got with you, but he also genuinely still thinks that he was right.

Who knows. Steve sighs and scratches his stubbly chin. He has a zit coming, he can feel it, and it's driving him crazy.

You'd offer to squeeze it if you weren't fighting. He knows that's a stupid fucking thing to miss, and want, but he likes you taking care of him. He loves that you don't care about the gross stuff, you'll do whatever if it makes him more comfortable. So he sits by the struggling campfire wishing you'd squeeze his stupid zit and say more than, "Hungry?" as you pass him a can of pasta.

You eat in silence. Steve suffers it until he can't anymore.

"Do you want the rest?" he asks, offering you his half-eaten can of low-carb linguini. "It's boring," he warns.

"Swap?" you ask, offering your bowl. You have a mixture of sliced water chestnuts, artichoke hearts, and half of a frankenfurter.

You'd obviously taken the worse option. You could've given him the hodge podge, but you gave him the pasta. He feels bad for complaining and trades dinner with you.

"Do you…"

Steve waits for you to finish. When you don't, he swallows around a chalky water chestnut and asks, "What?"

"Never mind. Forget it."

Steve raises his eyebrows but looks back at his meal. He was hoping you'd say sorry, because he's still feeling too proud but he wants to make up. He thinks maybe he doesn't deserve to make up if he can't bring himself to apologise —you were right that he should listen, even if he's tired. He should have more patience, just patience has never been his strong suit, and he's fucking exhausted and he knows you are too. He's sick of worrying if he did the right thing, and he's still mad at you, but he's starting to wonder if it matters anyways. It was a stupid fight that got too big. If you hadn't walked away, you might've been able to smooth it over. If he wasn't too stubborn to take the five big steps to your side, he could've done the same.

"I'm still annoyed," he says finally, "but I'm sorry for being a dick. Can we… gloss it over for now?"

You usually give in pretty easily. You aren't eager to hold a grudge, a sucker for one of his tight hugs, but you seem pretty reluctant as you nod. He's not as forgiven as he'd like to be. It's fair. His apology wasn't the best.

"Sorry," you mutter.

"Am I a dick if I ask to talk about it when we've both had some sleep?"

You shake your head, shooting him a nice, albeit small, smile. "I think that's a good idea."

Robin appears as you're pitching your tent.

"Okay, don't make this a big deal, but I'm sharing with Sarah tonight."

You smile. Steve frowns.

"Uh?" he asks.

"We were talking about how you guys had your, uh, disagreement, and I mentioned that you're cranky because you never get to hook up because I'm always there, and she invited me. So that's what I'm doing. Maybe you guys will feel better after some time alone."

"You think we're cranky because we aren't hooking up?" Steve asks, genuinely baffled.

"Not really, but Sarah laughed. I," —Robin tucks her hair behind her ear, looking bashful in her huge hoodie— "really do think you could benefit from, like, privacy. Just have some time together. Don't argue again."

"Thanks, Rob," you say.

Robin presses her lips together in a funny smile and shoots you a double finger guns. "I'm a philanthropist."

"Maybe you'll be less cranky when we see you in the morning," Steve says.

"Please, Steven."

Robin says goodnight. You and Steve pitch the tent slowly. He thinks you might be scared of being alone with him while things are still awkward, reluctant to meet his eyes, and you haven't smiled since the little one you offered at the fire.

He sits at the entrance of the tent beside you and sighs. "I'm sorry."

"You already said sorry."

"I know. But I figured it couldn't hurt."

You pull tufts of grass up in your hands, slouched forward into your own lap. He puts his hand on your back and rubs at your poor posture. Sometimes he worries that months ago, when you fell through damp flooring in a dilapidated building hundreds of miles away from here, you'd permanently fucked your discs. Your recovery was rough, and he barely noticed how much grief your back was giving you because he'd been so scared of the lump on the back of your head. He wonders if it still hurts.

He gives it an extra soft rub to be safe.

"Do you think things would be really different if we never met?" you ask.

"Things would be awful–" He starts immediately. You cut him off.

"Would they?" you ask, propping your face in your hand, elbow digging into your knee.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he asks. He's trying to be one hundred percent joking, but it's a solid 80/20, the 20 a startling hurt. "Would things be awful if we never met? Let me think about that one. Yes. Things would be awful."

You smile weirdly.

He takes his hand back. "What, you think things would be better if we never met?"

"For you."

Steve gets this feeling like he's had hot water chucked over him, and his eyes start to hurt. They ache. He could cry for you, he really could. How can you even think that, for a moment, for long enough to ask him, and begin asking him an hour ago? You sat there for an hour thinking about it and this is still the conclusion you came to: you think things would be better for him without you.

Steve takes your face into his hands. He needs you to be looking at him, straight at him and into his eyes as he tells you.

"I would not be here without you."

"But if you were–"

"But I wouldn't be. And not because you saved me from geeks at the start," he says, frowning, furious, "or any time after that. I could be the best survivalist in the world and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"Robin–"

"Is my best friend. I'd die for her." His hands slide further back on your face. "But I wouldn't be here without you."

"I make things so hard for you," you say. Steve watches helplessly as your eyes fill with tears.

"You don't, and if you do, I make things hard for you too."

"I'm sorry for being miserable," you say, staring at his chin.

He ducks his head to force you to meet his eyes. "It's okay, it's okay," —he wipes under your eyes with his thumb to catch a tear that hasn't fallen yet— "it's okay. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be happy, you don't have to be nice to me every second of every day, you just have to know what you mean to me and get a handle on it."

"No, 'cos I know I make it hard, I know I've been hardwork right from the start and I don't get easier. I'm always getting hurt–"

"It breaks my fucking heart, but if you think that matters to me–"

"–I'm not strong, I complain and I– I make bad choices, I cry all the time–"

"Why do you think that?"

"I'm messed up," you say, pulling his hands from your face.

"There's nothing wrong with you." Steve squeezes your hands, shuffling closer to you on knees, desperate to set you straight. "Come on, Y/N. You need to be strong to get through this. You think you'd have gotten this far if you weren't strong?"

"I got here because of you–"

"I'm here because of you," he says firmly. Loud, angry, abrasive in the face of your heartsick tears. "Why can't you see that? Did I do something, to make you think you can't do this?"

"You didn't do anything, Stevie," you sniffle, wiping your cheek with the back or your wrist, "and it's not the point."

"What's the point?" he asks, much softer than before.

You shrug. You wipe your cheeks again, stemming the rapid flow of tears spilling at the corners of your eyes. Your lashes are darkened triangles against your skin. "I don't know. I just wish you had someone looking after you who could actually look after you, rather than make you miserable all the time."

"I'm not miserable." Steve takes in a big breath, hand tangling in the worn fabric of your shirt as he leans in too close. "Would you tell me why you're crying?" he asks quietly, tilting his head to one side. "Please. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to fight anymore," you say, and you sob.

"We're not fighting, baby," he says, hand slipping under your t-shirt. His palm roves the soft pouch of your stomach to your side, where he grasps at you, pulling you in toward him for a hug. His chin bumps into your shoulder, your wet cheek to his stubbly one. "This isn't a fight, this is me trying to make you feel better, honey. I don't want you to feel like this."

"I'm worried you'd be better off without me," you mumble, lowering your head and pressing your eyes to his shoulder, the wet of your tears leaching into his shirt. "I'm doing it right now, I'm being fucking useless."

"Why are you so afraid of being upset?" he asks, frowning.

"Because you never are," you say. You move into his touch, like you're trying to climb into his lap. Steve yanks you forward.

"That's not true, you've seen me at my worst. You've seen me angry, and mean. Crying my eyes out."

"You cry when things are bad. I cry all the time," you say, sounding very, very small.

"Honey, I cry more than you think. I cried two nights ago. I cried when you were sick." He doesn't enjoy admitting it, because he wants to be strong for you, but he thinks his confession is a different kind of strength, and one you're in dire need of. "I'm sorry I don't always let you know. It's not fair. I expect you to tell me everything and I keep shit from you."

"Why did you cry two nights ago?" you ask, peeling away enough to look up into his face.

He has to tell you, even if he doesn't want to. He should've told you when it happened. "I felt sick."

"Yeah? Like nauseous? Do you feel sick now?"

"Not really. I don't like seeing you cry, but I'm alright." Steve's hand slides down your side to the hem of your jeans, his thumb pushing into the waistband. "See?" he asks imploringly. "I felt like shit so I cried, and it doesn't mean you'd be better off without me. It just means I felt sick. You don't have to give meaning to everything, you really don't. I hate to say this, but you have to keep your head up. For me."

You nod, sniffling and wiping your snotty nose with your sleeves. He bats your hand away and does it bare handed. There are much worse things in the world than this. In fact, he's happy to do it.

"I'm sorry, for fighting with you and for crying all over you." You laugh, and Steve's heart soars.

"I love you, you idiot," he says. "I love you. Hold still a second."

Steve climbs up on knees to press kisses from temple to temple, from temple to chin, and from chin to your lips. Your skin is hot and damp under his lips but he traverses unperturbed, trying to plaster each inch of your frankly gorgeous face in love.

"I want you with me forever," he says, hoping you understand exactly the severity of what he means.

"I want you," you say. "As long as you'll have me. Forever and ever." You give a few quick nods, and the sadness drains from your expression, replaced with a relieved and ecstatic affection instead. "I really think I might be tired."

"You think?" he asks. You laugh together, and he grabs your hand, giving it a sharp squeeze as he tacks on, "But I really need to listen to you, even if I'm irritable."

"We take stuff out on each other sometimes," you say.

He squeezes your pinky finger. "We do. It's gonna happen. And I'm glad it's me and you, you know? I don't wanna fight, but I want it to be with you."

"I want it to be with you, too," you say.

He can finally relax for the night. You make your way into your tent and lie on your backs, ankles hooked, a shitty paperback resting on your chest. The camp quietens as people head to their own tents for the night, though a gaggle of people stay awake at the fire, telling stories and laughing. Despite everything, there are moments when all of this feels fun. When Steve can pretend he's two years ago on a loser-group camping trip. And maybe he didn't know you then, but he would've seen you across the way and asked you out. Or he would've bumped into you at the communal showers and told you how to work the ice machine. Maybe you would've met at the lake. Maybe you would've hated one another. However you met in this distant what-if, Steve knows it would've somehow ended like this; your hand lifted to his hair and stroking wayward patterns, your breath sharp with spearmint. You'd brushed your teeth together over an empty can. Steve misses sharing a bathroom mirror with you hip to hip, but he'll take the small stuff whatever way it's packaged.

"For the record? That was your stupidest question to date." Steve turns his head to you, tarp wrinkling under his ear. "Like, you're the queen of stupid questions, and that one still managed to surprise me. And you once asked me if I thought petroleum jelly had nutritional value."

You flick his eyebrow gently. "I know it was stupid," you say, voice rough from a good cry. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it."

He tugs you in for a forehead kiss, lavishing in the feeling of your skin under his lips. "You believe me, right?"

He pulls away.

"I believe you. I love you. I'm gonna keep my head up, Stevie, s'long as you start telling me when you need me."

He thinks that's a deal he can make. "Deal. Easy."

You grin at him. "Can I squeeze your pimple now?"

"Yes!" He whips into a sitting position. "I've wanted to ask you all day."

"It looks like an ingrown hair."

"I'll have to stop shaving. Maybe I'll grow a beard."

You don't bother sitting up, only beckon him toward you with a raised hand. "That won't be necessary, H. Just let me work my magic…" Your fingernail digs into his chin. "Ew, it's kinda gross."

"Please don't ridicule me."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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lavbloom · 26 days

Text

spilled ink

sakusa kiyoomi x reader

you've spent the past few months mentally preparing to get the tattoo that means so much to you, conquering your intense fear of needles, and thankfully it'll be your bubbly bestie shouyo giving you this tattoo . . . right?

18+ (seriously please), banter city, grumpy-but-blushing kiyoomi & disaster-sunshine reader, fluff and semi hurt/comfort, mentions of needles/fear of them, allusions to sex (smut in later chapters)

a/n: so that sakusa x reader post i made over a year ago . . . not 3.5k. more than that. definitely more. anyway, here is chapter one of three ish??? much love, lav 💜💜

You catch the slight tremor in your hand once it’s on the door handle and give it a firm shake, as though you can wiggle the nerves right out of your body. This is fine, you force yourself to think as you push open the shop door. Everything is going exactly as planned. You’re on time for the appointment, Alisa is going to pick you up afterwards to get takeout and fall asleep watching movies on her couch, and Shouyo is going to be as kind and supportive as ever.

You can do this.

Inside, Black Jackal Tattoo & Piercing is quieter than the busy street outside, and the bustle of the sidewalk is swept away as the door closes behind you. The only sound is the click of a keyboard, the squeak of your shoes on the tiled floor, and a distant shrill sound that comes and goes as you make your way to the desk.

A head of ginger hair shoots up from behind the desk, fluffy like a dandelion head, and you manage some small relief when Shouyo grins at you from where he’s abandoned whatever paperwork he was typing up on the shop’s computer.

“You’re here!” He comes rushing out from behind the desk to hug you - Shouyo Hinata has always been, for better or worse, a hugger - and you let him bounce around you for a moment while he does his eager-puppy routine. “Alisa said you were so nervous you almost puked last night, so I didn’t know if you’d show!”

“Of course I was gonna show,” you say with a wobbly laugh, fighting down the urge to actually puke all over Shouyo’s shoes. “You went through all the trouble of getting me a slot between your appointments, it’s the least I could do.”

“Yeah,” Shouyo says, bright smile suddenly dimming and hand scratching the back of his neck. “For sure.” There’s a long pause while he watches you watch him, and you can already feel that bile rising -

“I can’t, um, actually do your appointment.”

“What the hell, dude?!”

“Ow!” Shouyo grimaces, rubbing his shoulder, but you think he’s just being dramatic - you didn’t whack him that hard. “Rude! It wasn’t my idea, okay, but Atsumu called in sick -”

“Naturally.”

“- and I’m the only one whose slots will cover his afternoon appointment. It’s, like, this super big addition to some guy’s sleeve, and everyone else has appointments by four. It’s an emergency!”

You sigh through your nose, arms crossed tight over your chest as Shouyo pleads for you to understand. The tremble has returned to your hands, you notice, and you hope keeping them pressed under your arms hides the worst of it.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really thought I could help -”

“Sho, it’s fine, I’ll just - I’ll come back another day.”

“I mean, you can still do it. I actually, um, wouldn’t recommend skipping the appointment now,” he adds, mouth twisting in thought, “Sakusa would be pissed. He kinda hates having people make last minute cancellations like that.”

The name has you grimacing, and Shouyo definitely catches the recognition in your eyes, if his wince is anything to go by. A mental image of dark, piercing eyes and a permanent scowl flash through your head, and you let out a quiet sigh.

Shouyo continues, “He’s, like, a total stickler for a schedule - not like Kita, but also not somebody you wanna piss off.”

“So . . . you’re saying I still have an appointment?”

“Yeah!”

“With a total stranger? Who’s an asshole?”

“Well, I mean . . . kind of?” Shouyo scrunches his face up, considering, and then nods again. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“And why would I want to not only not have my friend with me,” you say, making Shouyo whine another apology, “but switch to having some random asshole coworker of his stab tiny needles into me instead?”

“Y/N -”

“Because,” a low voice from the corner of the room says, “he isn’t some random asshole coworker of Hinata’s, but a competent and professional asshole coworker?”

The voice sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the shop’s impressively strong air conditioning. You know you’re going to have to turn around now, but your feet seem to move in slow motion, heart hammering as your eyes meet a dark glare from across the room.

Sakusa, a.k.a. Shouyo’s competent and professional asshole coworker, is immediately too tall and too grouchy to be anything but intimidating. You can’t even gauge how tall he might be from across the room because you’re too busy trying not to stare directly into that deeply-etched frown, his brow furrowed so intently that you think the muscles might just freeze in that spot forever. He’s got his arms crossed, too, but you’re not sure what reason he has to be that guarded; after all, you’ll be the one being stabbed.

You’ve at least confirmed why the name Sakusa sounded so familiar: this is the same Sakusa you met when Shouyo was first brought on at Black Jackal, stiff and frowning back then, too. You remember the glare he sent you and Shouyo from above his black face mask, hovering by the door of his little studio room, itching to dart back inside and close the door behind him.

You also remember the delicate curl of the ivy on his shoulder, revealed by his sleeveless black shirt, trailing down the lightly freckled skin of his bicep. You remember the tilt of his head as he studied you up and down, the slight pinch of his brow as he crossed his arms, the feeling of his stare on the back of your head as you said hello to Atsumu and Bokuto. You remember the lingering coldness as he closed his studio door, like a chill wind sweeping through the hallway in his wake, something elemental about his presence.

Shit.

“I take it this is your friend,” Sakusa says, nodding in your direction as he turns back to Shouyo, like you’re not even in the room anymore - this just gets better and better. The idea of putting yourself in this guy’s hands for the next forty five minutes is making your insides twist around on themselves, and you can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or the prospect of being alone in his studio, as Alisa would probably say with a silly wink. “I thought you meant Yachi.”

“No, Yachi’s not - I mean, she wouldn’t really get a tattoo. This is Y/N.” Shouyo explains, although Sakusa’s face remains impassive. “I mean, I know this is last minute -”

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, it’s not. He’s glowering as though you’ve done him a personal slight by scheduling yourself on the day that Miya got sick; he’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his black cargo pants now as he shifts off of the wall, but you’re sure they’re clenched.

“Seriously, Hinata,” Sakusa continues, lifting one shoulder in a deeply disgruntled shrug. “I don’t care. Just wish Miya had thought to get his fucking flu shot when I told him to, idiot.”

“Yeah,” Shouyo tries for a laugh, but he’s never been much of a liar. “Anyway, Y/N’s pretty nervous, so maybe they can just come back another day? I thought -”

“I looked at your design,” Sakusa interrupts, gaze locking with yours again. It’s intense, holding you in place while he speaks. “It’ll only take about thirty minutes, if that. Do you seriously need Hinata to do it? Because if you’re just going to cancel, I could’ve come in when I was supposed to.”

You press your lips together, trying to fish for a way to get out of this appointment - and trying to figure out if you even want to. Your stomach is still churning with nerves, that’s for sure, but the way Sakusa is watching you, pinning you in place with just his gaze as you scramble for an answer, is something you had only let yourself think about the night after you’d met him, assuming you’d hardly see Shouyo’s distant and rude coworker again.

“I . . .”

“Y/N, you can cancel.” Shouyo is also a bad whisperer - subtlety in general was never his strong suit. But he’s giving you a way out, probably having to deal with Sakusa after your hasty retreat, so you only feel a rush of gratitude as he offers you a smile. “It’s no big deal, no matter what this grinch has to say about it.” He hooks a thumb in his coworker’s direction, still giving you that knowing smile.

Sakusa sputters for a moment, the most human thing you’ve ever seen him do. “I’m not - Hinata, shut up.”

You can’t help it - you snort. There’s something about indignance on Sakusa’s face that is too funny not to get to you, and you only laugh more when he shoots you a sharp glare. He’s intimidating, sure, but if Shouyo can get under his skin, then he’s more than fallible.

You take a deep breath, sighing through your nose as you shrug. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to have wasted anyone’s time.”

Your gaze tilts to Sakusa, whose frown has finally smoothed into something resembling cordiality. “Is now okay to start? I wanna get this over with.”

Black Jackal is an odd maze of little hallways and dead ends, and you shuffle just behind Sakusa, trailing after him like a kid scared of getting lost in a mall.

“You know,” he says over his shoulder once you reach the back of the shop. “Tattoos are usually optional.”

“Yeah? And?”

“Well, you keep talking about this one like you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

The door of his studio is plain, save for a small sign that reads his name - Sakusa Kiyoomi, you read - and a little frowny face etched into the wood.

“Is that the kind of artistry I should be expecting?” You ask, reaching past him to tap on the carving, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ Miya,” he mutters, and you nod in understanding.

“Ruffians,” you say, nodding sagely. “They’ll graffiti anything nowadays, nothing is safe.”

You think you see the ghost of a smile on his mouth as Sakusa lets you inside, following and closing the door behind both of you.

The inside isn’t nearly as plain as you’d suspected. The walls, a cool dove gray, are papered over with designs and photos, magazine spreads carefully tacked up alongside rough sketches and inked canvas, everything with its own place in the sprawling inspiration board that seems to be Sakusa’s studio. His supply cart is neat but plentiful, coloured ink shining under soft lights in a rainbow of options, and there’s a half finished takeout coffee and bagel on the small desk in the corner, clearly his effort at breakfast while he set up for the day.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sakusa says from behind you, and you turn on your heel to face him. He’s got his arms crossed - again, oh my god - and even through his dark green pullover, his shoulders look ridiculously touchable. Meant to be grabbed, really, used as an anchor to pull yourself up and -

“Why are you acting like you’re being forced to get this tattoo?” His face scrunches slightly in displeasure. “You didn’t lose a bet or anything like that, right?”

“No!” You feel your face heat up, thinking about the insinuations, and remembering that he’s seen the design. You can’t help but let your gaze lower, dropping to rest on his shiny black docs. “It’s not like that at all. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time, and Shoyou went through all the trouble to help me design it, but I . . .”

And here it comes, the lamest, most pathetic part of this whole ordeal. You swallow the nerves bundled in the back of your throat, clearing the way for your confession. It comes out quiet and sharp.

“I’m just really fucking scared of needles, alright? They freak me out, and this is a thousand of them going into me over a long period of time, and - and it’s freaky and fucked up, okay?”

You’re expecting Sakusa’s coldness, a scoff or an eye roll - hell, given his attitude so far, even a request not to waste his time. What you aren’t expecting is the undignified snort he lets out.

His mouth is pressed tight when your eyes dart back up to his face, like he’s holding in another little laugh, and his brows are raised, a little disbelieving.

“Don’t laugh at me, god!”

“I’m not.” Sakusa’s frown is morphing slowly into something resembling a smile, which rests in the apples of his cheeks more than his mouth, lifting his face until the gloom that hovered over him is evaporating. “It’s just that that’s so normal, and you’re so embarrassed . . . you really don’t have to be.” He snorts again, and you scowl. “No wonder you’re friends with Hinata, you’re just as fuckin’ dramatic.”

“Shut up,” you snap, but Sakusa’s halfway-smile is warming the chill in the studio too well for you to be annoyed. You find your shoulders relaxing a bit as he moves to his desk, taking a sip of his coffee while he rifles through some papers stacked neatly between binders. You take a seat on the rolling stool he nods to, waiting next to the desk for him to find what he needs; you try not to notice how he looms above you, but it’s difficult when you have a front-row seat to his broad hands shuffling around his papers.

“A lot of people get scared, especially once they actually get here and see the machine and everything,” he shrugs, handing you a few of the papers. Consent forms and the like, you realize as you scan the top one. Sakusa has a pen held out for you before you can even ask. “It’s not weird. I mean, you’re letting some random asshole stab tiny needles into you, right?”

You can’t help the cringe that passes over your face, and though he doesn’t laugh again, you can see the teasing glimmering in his eyes. “Sorry about . . . that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been called worse.” He drums his fingertips on the desk, and the nervousness of the gesture warms you even further. The studio is thawing like a fresh spring day after a storm, and you find yourself breathing a bit deeper as you slowly fill out the paperwork. “Meian sometimes warns people ahead of time that I’m a bit blunt.”

“Blunt?” You echo him without meaning to, distracted by the process of the paperwork and easing ever so slightly under his teasing.

“Okay, he warns people that I’m a dick,” Sakusa says, and the rueful note in his voice catches your attention and draws you away from the form in your hand. “No filter, or whatever.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, tapping the pen on your thigh, squinting at him in your own turn of disbelief. “You’ve gotta know how scary you are when you walk around all mean and grouchy like that. You’re, like, seven foot fourteen and dressed like a bouncer at a goth rave, you can’t also be an asshole, you’re intimidating enough as it is!”

You really need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, you think, because Sakusa’s face drops, brow suddenly knitted tight again as he stares you down, and you’re reminded of how right you are about how intimidating he is when he glares like that.

“Do I really dress like I’m at a goth rave?”

“. . . what?”

“Do I,” he repeats slowly, “dress like I’m at a goth rave?”

And then you see it: the smallest twitch of his cheek, and your horror turns to annoyance in two seconds flat. “Maybe you do.”

“Hm. Seems a bit uncalled for.”

“Seems like you just proved my point exactly, actually,” you shoot back, holding out the paperwork for him to take. “And I didn’t say you were at a goth rave, I said you dress like a bouncer at one. You know, like you’re there to be all serious and break up fights and shit.”

“You’ve got a lot of experience with goth raves?” Sakusa asks as he files the paperwork away in a drawer and reaches across the desk to get a pump of hand sanitizer. The sterile smell permeates the small space, and you feel your insides twist, hands clutching the seat of the stool tight.

“No, I just -” you pause, searching for the words while trying not to throw up in Sakusa’s studio. He might be warming up now, but you doubt he’d love that. “I don’t know.” You made me nervous doesn’t feel like a great explanation, not with the next thirty minutes of being in his personal space about to begin.

He studies you for a long moment before jerking his chin, motioning for you to stand. “First, you’re going to sit there -” he points to the soft, leather chair that takes up so much space in the little studio, “and you’re also going to calm down for a minute, because I will cancel this appointment for you if you get sick in here.”

“Knew it,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, as you pull yourself up onto the table, the material soft and smooth beneath your bare thighs. Your legs swing off of it and you feel so exposed, though you haven’t changed your position much; you press your thighs together anyway, keeping your hands in your lap as though to cover up.

“Knew what?” Sakusa is rummaging around in his desk drawer again, and you move your gaze to the designs on the far wall. It’s a delicate series of ocean waves and marine life, and the broad expanse of coral reef you’re looking at is a bit better than looking at any of the equipment.

“Knew you’d hate puke,” you say lightly, trying for nonchalance and managing only to sound like you’re being strangled from the inside out. “You have the vibe.”

“Are there people who like it?”

“I mean, everyone’s got their own thing -”

“No, stop. No talking about that in here.”

You clamp your mouth shut, and don’t move a muscle until you feel something fuzzy on the back of your hand. When you look down, startled, a palm-sized ferret plush is sitting next to your hand on the table.

“What the fuck is that?”

Sakusa is glaring when you look back up at him, but there’s no real venom to it, so you only notice how the scowl makes his eyelashes stand out more, soft and shadowed beneath his pinched brow. Well, fuck.

“I’m not the best at - at being . . .”

“Nice?” You supply helpfully.

“. . . Comforting.” He purses his lips, and you try not to pay too much attention to them. “Bokuto got him for me to use when I started, so that he can make people feel better when I . . . don’t.”

“A ferret?” You ask, prying your fingers from the hem of your skirt to pick the critter up, holding him carefully in your lap.

“A weasel, actually,” Sakusa says, still scowling. “His name is Itachi.”

“Why does his tag say Omi-Omi, then?” You ask, pinching the fabric between your fingers and squinting at the messy handwriting.

“Because Atsumu fucking sucks.”

It surprises a laugh out of you, though a bit shaky, and Sakusa’s scowl eases back into that glimmering, knowing look, not quite a smile but on its way there. You press the weasel against your stomach, hoping to relax the knots it’s tied itself into, and look to Sakusa for direction.

“So, before we do anything - you’re absolutely sure you aren’t gonna throw up?”

“Promise.”

“Good,” and you try so hard not to notice how nice that sounds in Sakusa’s low, quiet voice. God, what is wrong with you? At this point you’re sure Alisa will see right through you when she comes to pick you up and finds you this . . . unsettled. You squish Itachi a bit tighter to ground yourself. “Then I’m going to ask you where you want this thing.” He holds up a piece of paper, Shoyou’s design splashed across it.

You tap your inner bicep, just above your elbow, and this time Sakusa manages a lopsided smile.

“Did you do your research for the least intense places to get one?”

Face burning, you give him an embarrassed nod, though you can’t tell if the problem is him catching you out so easily or the appearance of the very first smile you’ve ever seen Sakusa Kiyoomi wear.

“I like to be prepared,” you add with a huff, and he only seems to fight off another smile while tugging on a pair of black nitrile gloves.

“I’m sure you do.” And why the fuck does that line make your face even warmer? “Here - is it alright if I touch you?”

The gloves are smooth and impersonal as he guides your arm out, positioning it at a good clear angle to work on, and the disinfectant he sprays on the spot is cold enough to make you jump.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and you try to shrug it off without moving your arm too much. Your stomach is starting to feel wobbly again, and it gives a sudden lurch when Sakusa tugs his work trolley closer to him and pins Shoyou’s design to the side of it for reference, his fingertips starting to skim over the spread of inks available.

“You’re shaking, by the way,” he says, selecting a jet black ink that you can’t tell the difference from the others, rolling the glass between his fingers as he looks up at you from his seat. “You promised you wouldn’t throw up.”

“And I’m keeping my promise,” you grit out, nearly strangling Itachi in your iron grasp. “I’m not gonna throw up.”

“Even if I believed that - which I don’t know that I do,” you manage a scowl, though it’s aimed at the floor, “- I can’t exactly do my job on someone who’s shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m not,” you argue.

Sakusa slowly lifts your hand, and you both watch a shiver run through it. His hand is warm even through the glove, his grip soft on your inner wrist. Your face pinches in defeat and Sakusa just lets out a small sigh through his nose.

“Look, I don’t really do these kinds of appointments.”

“These kinds?” You echo, tilting your head in confusion, before you slowly nod. “Right, you’re part of the back of house escort service, I forgot. Would it be better if I undressed a little? Make you more comfortable?”

The baby pink flush this gives Sakusa is so stark of a change that it startles you, and you think the joke was worth your own burning embarrassment at making it. He clears his throat, brow furrowed, but you can clearly see the blush that warms his cheeks, and the uncertain twitch of his mouth, like his brain can’t decide whether to smile or frown.

“If you’re done interrupting me,” he says, “I meant nervous clients. Meian knows not to bother booking them with me, because it’s - well, it hasn’t gone that well in the past.”

And you already know this. Shouyo has explained his coworker’s early mishaps while starting at Black Jackal, including the delightful incident where someone did puke in Sakusa’s studio and he had to send them off to Bokuto while he cleaned it top to bottom. His reputation is exactly why Shouyo’s news sent you into a panic: his image in your mind was a looming, scowling asshole who barely spoke two words to you at every visit you’d ever paid your best friend at work (which was too many to count, thanks to Shouyo’s insistence on forgetting things at home.)

“I’ve heard,” is all you say, and Sakusa’s lips purse. He probably knows exactly what you’ve heard.

“I don’t know how to . . . make people calm down.” He releases your hand and it drops back down to the worn leather; the absence of his touch is cold, and you miss it immediately. “And I’m guessing me just telling you not to freak out hasn’t been helping?”

“How did you know?” You ask, voice flattened by the weight of your sarcasm. Sakusa manages another of his ghost smiles, but it fades from his eyes as he takes you in again. From the way he’s watching you, you must look as terrible as you feel right now.

“Look,” you start, steadying yourself with a small, uneven breath. “I want this tattoo, you don’t want to cancel this appointment, so it seems like the best thing is for us to just - just commit to the bit, you know? So just distract me and it’ll be fine.”

“Distract you?” This suggestion seems to strike Sakusa like an electric charge, jolting him into another startling blush, brow furrowed in frustration. “With what?”

You swallow a nervous laugh, eyeing his panic like a house cat eyes their pretend prey, and say, “You could take your shirt off or something,” because you’ve completely lost your mind and you want to draw that blush out of him as much as you can. It might be the only distraction you need.

Sakusa’s face goes bubblegum pink, from his forehead to his - remarkably sharp and pretty - jawline, and something about it makes his eyes even more piercing. He just stares at you as you cackle, your nerves making the laughter bubble up in your stomach like a shaken bottle of sparkling wine.

“I’m kidding, I swear,” you laugh, face warm and insides fizzing with a wild cocktail of anxiety and helpless endearment. “You can just, you know, talk at me or something. That’s usually how I get through shots and stuff.”

“Oh? This is a recurring issue?” Sakusa is still a little pink as he reaches for his supplies, but reaches out a gloved hand and gently turns your head to face the opposite wall when you look over. “Don’t look, idiot, just stare at the art or something.”

“Okay,” you nod, a bit breathless even when he finally releases your jaw. You train your gaze on the wave designs you noticed earlier, the detailed strokes a good visual distraction. “Yeah, I don’t like needles, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sakusa echoes, voice flat. You’re trying to picture his expression, and when you chance a glance you see you nailed it: the scowl and single quirked eyebrow combo he’s used three different times on you today.

“Yeah, obviously. I know it’s not uncommon, but it’s still, like, embarrassing, you know?” Your fingers twist into Itachi the Weasel’s soft fur. “It’s like a little kid phobia.”

Sakusa just hums, barely audible, as he wipes a cold towelette across your inner arm, and you suppress a shiver.

“It’s not that embarrassing,” he says finally, though his words are a bit distant, out of focus, as he concentrates on whatever he’s rifling around with on his cart of supplies. They clink gently as he works, the only sound in the room aside from his quiet murmurs. “You’re doing pretty well. I appreciate that you still haven’t puked.”

“And I’m not going to,” you insist, pulling a quiet laugh from him.

“I would hope not.” His gloved hands are back on your arm, repositioning you slightly and then tracing something cool and soft along the skin. When you look down, he’s outlining the design; his movements are so delicate it’s as if he’s pushed all the concentration in his body to his hand. “Not when I’m being so nice, anyway. Now,” he reaches up with his free hand, tilts your chin up and guides your gaze back to the wall of art, “stop looking.”

You laugh, your stomach fluttering. “But what if you do it bad? I need to see the tracing!”

When Sakusa’s hand stills for a long moment and he goes quiet, you risk a look back down and see him glaring up at you, though his mouth is twisting away from a smile.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” he says quietly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you, coaxing you to lean forward and meet him, “but I’m really fucking good at what I do.”

And you don’t mean to say it, you really don’t, but the muttered, “Oh, I bet you are,” just slips out. Sakusa really walked into it, if you think about it.

And he responds with another deep pink blush, giving a slight cough as he leans back, eyes now glued to your arm as he reaches to continue the design. He nudges your chin up again with his knuckles before he gets back to work.

The studio is quiet after that, the pair of you letting the tension brew as Sakusa finishes the small tracing and starts sifting through his supplies again.

“Okay,” he breaks the silence, and there’s a note of concern that wasn’t in his voice before. “I’m going to get started now, but I think you should take a second to breathe. If you start hyperventilating,” he adds sternly, “I will not do this tattoo.”

“I won’t hyperventilate,” you assure him, sounding much more confident than your shaky lungs feel.

“You’ll be fine,” Sakusa concludes, and he seems to realize how much of a non-comfort this is, because he knocks his elbow against Itachi, where he’s pressed to your stomach. “Remember to squeeze the living shit out of him, alright? He won’t mind - I think.”

It’s only when that gets a smile out of you that Sakusa continues, and your head turns instinctively when he lifts something from the cart.

“Eyes on the wall,” he says without even looking up at you, fiddling with the tattoo gun in his hands. You obey, eyes shooting back to the wave designs, trying to trace the patterns instead of thinking about any impending stabbing. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” and it comes out as more exhale than speech, but you are managing to get your breathing under control.

“I’m going to turn it on now, but -”

The moment the mechanism buzzes to life, you flinch so hard that you almost drop Itachi, and Sakusa gives a little sigh through his nose.

“- I won’t use it yet, because I figured you’d do that.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, struggling to put up a teasing glare so he knows you’re joking. Sakusa’s dark eyes are narrowed in thought when you look over at him, averting your eyes from the tattoo gun in his hands.

“Are you done shaking now?” His fingertips graze your inner wrist, glancing down to study your arm like he’s looking for more tremors. “Because I genuinely can’t do this if you’re moving around, you know.”

“I know,” you say, a bit breathless at the contact as Sakusa’s hand travels up to rest on the crook of your elbow, steadying your arm. He’s still not looking at you, but you think he can probably feel your eyes on him. “. . . It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“The design is small, so it won’t take too long.” He presses on the skin of your inner bicep, shoulders hunching as he moves to get started. “Just say something if you need to take a break.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “And you say you’re bad with nervous clients.”

A beat of silence, broken by Sakusa clearing his throat. “Just repeating the stuff Bokuto always says.”

You give a sharp gasp when the needle finally touches your skin, the sting sudden and swift, and Sakusa doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully inking your skin when he says, “Yeah, it’s not pleasant.”

“I mean, I figured, but what the hell!” You hiss, face scrunching in displeasure. You suppress a shudder that tries to run through your body as he lifts the needle and then returns it to your skin.

“Eyes on the wall, Y/N,” he says, and your gaze moves before you realize you’re following his direction. When had you looked back down at him? “You don’t wanna watch me stab you.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” you mutter, and Sakusa just exhales the ghost of a laugh as he continues.

It’s not unbearable, the pain small but constant, and you focus on the feeling of Sakusa’s hands on you to distract yourself - whether this is really a good plan has yet to be decided. At least it steadies you, his grip sure as he works, and you wonder for a split second how this would be going with someone like Shouyo. You’ve seen your best friend give tattoos before, but the feeling of his distractible, fluttering hands on your arm seems like miles away from the solid reassurance in Sakusa’s hands. There’s something about his concentration, the small pinch returning to his brow whenever you flicker your gaze to him, and the warmth of his broad hands that has your stomach fluttering while your pounding heart eases slightly.

Maybe this mishap wasn’t the worst possible outcome.

“Nearly halfway,” Sakusa murmurs, and you catch it in surprise just over the buzz of the machine.

“Already?” You’re so focused on the feeling of Sakusa holding you that you didn’t even notice ten minutes flick by.

“Yeah, I told you, a design like this won’t take long.” His hand slides down your arm a bit, holding your inner forearm in place, and his fingers curl around you almost reflexively. You resist the urge to look down as hard as you can, and find yourself outright glaring at the ocean scenes on the opposite wall. “You’re doing really well.”

And now you’re glaring and flushing, the praise going straight to your hammering heart while you fight the warmth in your face and the twist and turn of your insides as you study his work. The brushstrokes of that middle scene, a huge tidal wave in a myriad of blues and grays and teals, are so delicate that it’s hard for you to pick them apart from across the tiny studio, and you think you want to see Sakusa’s hands do something that delicate. It’s only fair, if you can’t look at him as he so carefully and gently marks your arm when you want to chance a glance so badly.

“Nearly there,” he says, unreadable as he lifts the needle from your skin, adjusting your arm’s position slightly. “Need a moment?”

“I -“ You’re not sure if the break is really what you want: your plan was to just get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible, and now your torment is drawing to an end. But your brain is going hazy with Sakusa’s hands on you, and you want to ease into that feeling for a little longer. “. . . Sure, just for a second.”

“How about ten?” You hear him laugh, the sound low and warm. “And you know you can look wherever you want now, right?”

Your gaze darts down to meet his, and you catch the tail end of his smile before it sinks below the surface again, just the remnants of it left glimmering in his eyes.

“You wanna look, or wait until I’m finished?”

And Sakusa huffs out a laugh because he sees that you’re already sneaking a peek at your half-finished tattoo, the skin around it irritated but the inked lines and curls so entrancing that you want to touch them. Sakusa holds your hand back, placing it over Itachi where you had sat him down next to you on the table.

“You like it?” The permanent intensity of his gaze makes the question feel like you’re being interrogated, but you just smile.

“Yeah.” You glance back at the design, studying the parts of it that still need to be filled in. “How much longer, do you think?”

“If we keep going right now, I can probably get you out of here by three,” and you swallow your disappointment. Twenty minutes did not give you a lot of time to crack open more of Sakusa’s shell.

“Alright.”

He gets back to work and the studio falls quiet, save for the steady buzz of the gun and the creak of the table each time you shift your legs around. Sakusa’s silence is so complete that you find your gaze wandering down to him, despite your promises to keep your eyes away from the procedure at hand, and you study the crinkle in his forehead as he focuses, the curl that strays between his eyes. He pauses to brush that curl back into place, and the movement is hypnotizing; you can’t stop watching how smooth his motions are, every one deliberate and careful. When he does so his eyes slide over to meet yours, and you sink so deep into his gaze that you can’t even try and pretend like you weren’t staring.

“Almost done,” he says; his thumb traces the edges of the design, and the smallest sting is left behind on the irritated skin, a mark of his touch. You just nod, your brain moving honey-slow as you watch him.

“You’re doing fine,” he remarks, head cast down as he finishes his work. “Not nervous anymore?”

“No, I am,” you reply, a bit breathless, “but I’m - you’re - it’s not that bad.” The words clatter their way out of you, awkward and uncertain in your mesmerized haze. His hair catches the studio lights and the curls remind you of the brushstrokes in his art, each rivulet of the tidal wave rendered with individual care, smooth and inviting. You clench Itachi a bit tighter, keeping your hand where it is.

Sakusa breathes something like a laugh and a sigh, lifting the needle from your skin for the last time. “Well, good, because you’re done. Told you it wouldn’t take too long.”

He putters about his equipment for a moment, putting things back in their places, and you study his movements as your hand frees Itachi (much to his relief, you’re sure) and reaches for the stinging patch of skin on your inner arm.

“Don’t touch it,” Sakusa warns, barely glancing at you from where he’s slathering on another round of hand sanitizer. “Unless you want it to get infected.”

“No, I’m okay, actually.” Your hand drops into your lap as you wait for him to return, legs swinging with your nerves as he finally meets your eyes.

“You didn’t puke.” Sakusa is giving you that barely-there smile again, and you swear you see the beginnings of a dimple on his right cheek. The urge to run your hands through his curls only grows with this observation, which you really wish it wouldn’t, because talking to him is only getting harder.

“I didn’t.”

“Thank you for that,” he says, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves and motioning for your arm. “Hold your arm out straight for me.”

Warmth creeps up your throat as you do as asked, and Sakusa’s hands are warmer this time when he uses a cotton round to spread a thick layer of ointment onto the design. It shimmers in the light, and you turn your arm slightly to examine his work.

“I’d ask if it looks okay, but it’s a little late for that.”

“Maybe you should’ve let me look, then,” you try to glare up at him as he crowds into your space a bit, gently laying plastic wrap over the area. You can feel the warmth of him this close, and catch a note of his clean, summery scent, like one of those sweet-scented dryer sheets. “So I could tell you before it’s too late.”

“You would’ve freaked out. Besides, it definitely looks okay. I told you, I’m pretty good at this.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you manage to roll your eyes, despite the flips your stomach is doing even as he backs away. He retreats to his desk to shuffle through the contents of a cramped drawer, and you watch the broad line of his shoulders stoop as he bends over the drawer. You feel the need to get ahold of yourself, but it’s a distant concern when your head is this floaty.

“Alright,” and when Sakusa turns back around, folded papers in hand and firm expression fixed on you, you let that concern fizz out entirely, “you’re finished. These are aftercare instructions.” He passes you the papers and waits for you to carefully tuck them into your purse. “Follow them - don’t skip steps or rush the healing process. Understand?”

“Got it,” you salute, warmth fluttering through you at his low tone. “I can follow instructions.”

Sakusa just nods, mouth flattened as you gently slide off the leather seat. “I’m sure you can, so I expect you to. I want to see that healed properly the next time you come to see Hinata.”

“So you’ll actually come say hi, instead of hiding back here?”

He quirks a brow and you squirm under his questioning gaze, embarrassment flooding you. Was that too obvious?

“. . . We’ll see. Depends on if you still want to see me after this.” Usually people don’t. The implication hangs between you both, and you yank it aside like you’re letting in fresh air.

“Well, maybe I do. Is that a problem? Gonna ruin your street cred?”

“I think you’re going to obliterate it, honestly.”

“You don’t sound opposed.” And that’s as much a question as it is a jibe; you stand prone in his little studio, waiting for Sakusa to stack up his many walls once more, back where they stood before you followed him into his sanctuary.

But he just stares back at you, the corner of his lips twitching as his gaze moves from your face to your new tattoo and back again. “Maybe I’m not.”

A knock at the door startles you out of the fuzzy, warm headspace you’ve sunk so deep into, and both of your heads whip to look at Shouyo, whose fluff of ginger hair is peering around the open door as he looks back at you both.

“Are you done already? My client’s just taking a break now, and I wanted to come check in . . .”

Taking a step away from Sakusa - when had you drifted so close to him? - you flash Shouyo a thumbs up and a wane smile. “Totally done! Completely finished!”

“Awesome!”

It’s quiet as you all head back to the front desk so you can pay, Shouyo seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing between every word you direct at him instead of Sakusa. You leave Black Jackal with a new tattoo and the feeling of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes on your back as you step out the door, finding Alisa already waiting for you, leaning against the passenger door of her parked car.

“Hey! Lemme see, I bet it’s so cute . . . what’s wrong with you?” She squints at you, hands still on your arm to see the tattoo, and you shrug.

“Nothing, I’m all good.”

“So you didn’t freak out?” Alisa asks, pulling you along to the car. “No hyperventilating?”

“No,” you shake your head, sliding into the passenger seat. “I . . . I might go back, get another one. I’m not sure yet.”

“Wow.” Alisa gives you a once-over when she gets into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition but not taking her eyes off of you. You don’t look over to see if she’s suspicious - you already know her too well for that. “It must’ve gone really well.”

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, fingers twisting in your lap. “It did.”

“So Hinata’s actually good at his job?”

“I, um - actually -” You fumble with your words, the last hour crashing through your brain at hyperspeed; there’s no turn of phrase that feels appropriate, not with the bright, too-hot feeling bubbling up inside of you, coaxing a wavering little smile out of you. “Shouyo couldn’t, um, actually he didn’t do it.”

“Oh?” Alisa pauses before pulling onto the road, her acrylics tapping thoughtfully on the steering wheel before she lets out an obnoxious, dramatic gasp. “Oh! Oh my god, wait, who?��

“Shut up,” you say instead of answering, burying your warm face in your hands.

“No way,” she argues, and you feel the car start moving, thank god. Soon you can be embarrassed in peace. “No way, you - it wasn’t Miya, was it? Please tell me it wasn’t.”

“No! No, it wasn’t - it actually was Miya’s fault that Shouyo couldn’t do it, so - I mean, um - it was . . . you know Sakusa?” His name trips off of your tongue, pretty and hushed, and the phantom feel of his hands on your skin makes you shiver.

When you finally look up at Alisa, she’s staring at you in mingled disbelief and delight. “No fucking way.”

“I’ll literally hop out of this moving car, right fucking now.”

“I didn’t say anything! I just - no way. No fucking way.”

“Yeah.” You murmur, head tipped back against the headrest, trying not to picture that almost-smile glimmering in his sharp gaze. “No way.”

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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dw-writes · 11 months

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Once Bitten, Twice Angry - Miguel O'Hara x Anti Hero!Reader

So. This isnt planned to be a fic - in fact Im writing it on my phone (which is something I NEVER do). But the idea came to me today and its itching the inside of my skull so I decided to write it down. Its silly - just an thought experiment to get the Across the Spiderverse brain worms out.

This isnt intended to be a romantic fic, either. At the point of writing this author blurb, i dont even know how Miguel fits into it beyond the main idea of him being venomous.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think

This isnt edited, and was typed out pretty quickly on a phone. I apologize ;;

WARNINGS: Swearing; Violence

"I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here." The bank robber - his name was Ryan, you remembered, and he was a pretty decent guy, just down on his luck too many times - nodded and mumbled behind the collect of irridecent that coated his mouth. You propped your foot on the side of another robber - Julian, Julius, Juli-something, he never really talked that much to you - as he tried to squirm towards his fallen weapon. "It's weird, right?" you mused, "One day, I'm the Black Cat, Nueva York's greatest burglar, the next I'm--" you cut yourself off as you hooked a foot around Juli-such-and-such's hip and tossed him across the bank floor. He released a muffled shout.

"Okay, so, what do you think of Moon Weaver?" you asked, "Too much?"

"Ain't there a Moon Knight?" someone in the bank quipped.

You twisted around, snapping your fingers down on your new, and very much stolen, web shooter. The man crumbled back against a cabinet. He was a banker, and annoying during robberies.

"I didn't ask you? I still don't know if you're gonna be saved by me yet," you replied. You turned back to Ryan. "No Moon Weaver?" you asked.

He shook his head.

"Damn," you sighed, "Anyway, I was telling this to my therapist up on the seventh floor - you should see her by the way, she's great - and we were going over how this started, but since you so rudely interrupted my therapy session, you get to hear it." You crouched in front of him. "Don't worry, you're not gonna remember a thing anyway. I'll make sure of it."

Ryan didn't reply.

You stood back up. "So, let's start at the beginning." You waved your hand as you paced away to another bank robber, kneeling to scoop up his limp ankle. "Remember that heist I was doing a few months ago? Priceless heirloom, lots of money, you know how it is. I was on the job, like normal, when that fucking Spiderman shows up." You dropped the man's ankle and crouched in front of Ryan again. "Have you ever seen him without his mask? He's kinda hot, but in that infuriating "I really wanna punch you" kinda way?"

Ryan merely stared at you. He wasn't a very good audience.

You huffed. "Anyway. He showed up, we did the whole song and dance - the chase, the quips, the obvious flirting with a good layer of sexual tension - and I give him the slip." You frowned at your own memory of that night, planting your fists on your hips. "Except, I didn't. He caught me around the corner, and we went down, grappling. I think I hit him a little too hard in a place that I shouldn't've - that's rude in a fight, you know - because he yelled and suddenly bit my shoulder." You turned back around. "He bit me! Like a four year old!"

You thought Ryan mumbled something that sounded like, "Seriously?" but it was too hard to make out.

So, you replied with, "Yeah! And I went home, and I started feeling weird." Then, you crouched again, your fingers dancing over your knees. "And you know how we all kinda know that he's a weird little freak that's, like, part spider, or werewolf, or vampire, or something freaky? Yeah, I think whatever it is gave me powers," you whispered.

Ryan's eyes went wide.

You shrugged and stood, cupping your fingers around his head. "Yeah, it was weird. And now, here we are!" Your fingers tickled as a surge of electricity arched away from them and through his skull. "Not that you'll remember it," you mumbled.

The robber thrashed as you stepped away, then slumped to the ground. You watch him for a moment, frowning, waiting to make sure he was still breathing. When he groaned, you stepped back.

Then, you snapped your fingers, turning around to face the whole group of thieves you had piled in a corner. "Oh, what about Night Spider? That's pretty cool!" you asked.

"It's pretty," came a delayed reply. You looked over your shoulder. It was a customer, one of the few that was still curled up on the floor.

You smiled, and bowed at the waist. "Why thank you," you preened, standing, and waving your arm towards the door, "What're you all still waiting around here for? Get outta here!" You watched as the customers scrambled to their feet. "And tell the cops it was Night Spider that helped you!" You backed away, eyeing an exit you normally took to escape a bank with a similar layout. "Not Spiderman."

You bolted as the cops rushed into the building.

Miguel watched from atop the roof across the street, an annoyed scowl etched deep into his face. He knew he shouldn't have bitten you that night - but how could he have known you'd have such a reaction?!

And now, you went from being a pain in his side to a fucking problem.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, swearing under his breath.

Lyla would never let him live it down.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderverse #marvel

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waffles-art-writing · 1 year

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Sleight Of Hand - Task Force 141!Platonic x Fem!Reader (JOKER)

Summary:Ghost and Soap find out the reason behind your code name and the tricks you have hidden up your sleeve. Ghost gets to see through murky water of your home life. Ghost and Soap comfrot you through teh throws of the aftermath of a mission.

Proofread: NOPE - Very little was done.

Pairing: Ghost!Platonic x Fem!Reader - Soap!Platonic x Fem!Reader - 141!Platonic x Reader (JOKER - Previous chapter: Part 3) (Soap and Ghost are a bit more than platonic with Reader :) )

WordCount: 7.8k?

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably

Codename: JOKER

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: Kinda a self indulgent thing but meh, Fluff, Angst, Backstory, PTSD, sexual intentions, self image insecurities. Pet Names - Love, Lass, Sweetheart, Darling etc. **Kinda force sexual actions - nothing extreme, just uncomfortable making out** (Tell me if i missed anything)

I’ve done some art of JOKER and the Task Force so if you wanna see it Comment!

Tag List: @boogieman-23

—————————————

The briefing room is filled with typing. The sound of cards shuffling and the creaking sound of a chair. You’re all waiting for Price to walk through the door of the briefing room with the following mission brief and a stack of papers.

Soap had his feet up on the table, leaning back in the creaky chair, straining the legs of the chair with his weight. The poor legs look like they are about to give out, then his ass will hit the floor hard. It wouldn’t be worth complaining afterwards, however it would be a good laugh at the time. Ghost is doing what Ghost does best, lurking in the shadows with a cold gaze, watching you shuffling cards specifically. Perfectly seated where the sunlight from outside is blocked by the pillar between the windows.

“You’re gonna break the chair, Soap” you state as you shuffle your deck of cards, seeing Soap out the corner of your eye leaning back on his chair. “I’ll be fine lass. It can hold me.” He chuckles, testing the strength of the chair’s legs even more. You huff out a “If you say so” while flicking out the jokers of the deck, followed by the aces. The suits facing down before you flip them over, their suits staring back at you.

“How did you do that?” Gaz pipes up, seeing you easily splaying the cards out in order of clubs, diamonds, spades and hearts. “Do what?” You ask, reshuffling the cards, including the Jokers. “Being able to shuffle the cards and then put them in order without looking.” He points out, you shrug as you fan the cards back out. “It’s all magic.” “Bullshit.” Soap quips as he leans forward, the chair slamming back down on the floor. “You can’t do magic, that’s just street work to get money.” You sigh as you look at Soap, a brow raised, your mask secure on your face with the joker smile painted on it. You give the deck of cards to Soap, tilting your head. “Go on, shuffle it then.” You push the deck into his hands, leaning back with a smirk hidden under the dark fabric.

Ghost approaches the table, sitting down across from you with piqued interest and wanting to see what is going to happen. “Here you go lass, shuffled it real good.” He chuckles, pushing the deck of cards towards you on the table, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “Try it now.”

You pick the deck up, shuffling it, stacking it in four different piles. “You don’t know how she got her name, do you Soap?” Price states when he walks through the door, watching you fan the cards out again in the order of red, black, red, black. Soap’s mouth hangs open, gaping like a fish. Gaz is chuckling with amazement, Ghost just watching in curiosity. “She got her name from early years in the army, she always had a deck of cards, always having a joker card on her somewhere.” Price points out, motion towards you who is shrugging. You swipe your hand over Soap’s head, nothing can be seen in your hand, bringing your hand back to his face showing you have a Joker card in your hand. “Steamin’ Jesus” he mumbles, laughing as he takes the card from your hand. Sleight Of Hand.

The briefing of your next mission goes smoothly, Soap still thinking over how you did the card trick. Watching you closely, staring at you, Ghost kicks his leg to stop him. “Joker, are you okay with that plan? Going in without a mask and all?” You nod your head, understanding that your comfort zone is going to be pushed and strained. But you swallow down the anxiety about the mission, a mission is a mission, and you’re going to complete it despite your anxiety thrashing like a feral cat. With the new mission being an undercover op, you go in as a guest to pickpocket a man for a USB drive and get out without a hitch. You would be going in under a high esteem woman’s ID, a bodyguard in attendance with you. Which ends up being Soap, Ghost would be watching through a sniper and Gaz being posted outside in a getaway vehicle. Price would be with Gaz, both ready to step in if something goes astray.

——

You’re playing with the cards again while reading over the file of the woman you’ll be pretending to be. Some Italian woman, Claudia Volta, Daughter of a mafia boss. She will be attending the party in her fathers place, accompanied by her bodyguard. You’re beyond thankful you stuck with languages while in school, Italian and German being your main focus. However you did dabble in Spanish, Russian and French. Luckily for you, everyone at the party will be too occupied with flaunting their money and taking advantage of the free drinks to notice you. Your mission is to get in, find the man who is hosting the party that is promoting his arms deal business before Christmas. Illegally selling the weapons to many mafia’s, gangs and groups of a like. Get up close and personal with the older man, who has a thing for younger women, pickpocket the harddrive from the pocket of his suit and get the hell out of there without a hitch. Easy right? Would be easy if you didn’t have scars that mark your face.

Ghost stays behind, quiet as normal. You look up when you feel his eyes on you, stopping the card shuffling. He tilts his head, a silent question filling the silence. “Nervous tick, picked it up from my dad…” you mumble, flicking out a joker card and placing it on the table. “So this is how you got your name?” He asks, picking up the joker card from the table between his thumb and pointer finger. “Yeah, got a tattoo of it too.” Ghost hums, looking you up and down trying to figure out why? What’s the meaning? Where is the tattoo? He didn’t notice anything when he was patching up your injuries, or when you were in the medical wing. “Covered by my watch…” you lift your left forearm, the bottom of the joker card tattoo peeking out from behind your watch, he can see a ‘7’ and a ‘2’ next to the joker card. You wear the face of your watch on the inside of your wrist, something that many people don’t understand why.

Joker cards are one of them card’s you can use as a good luck charm, to a degree it is. But the deeper meaning behind it, more than just hoping for being lucky. Joker is a wild card in poker, it can be anything it needs to be depending on the situation, making it as useful as the holder is creative.

Then the 7-2 unsuited is the worst possible hand you could get in a game of poker. Ghost knows this, he doesn’t quite understand why you have them accompany the joker. “Lucky charm… Kinda, wild card really. Just like me.” Ghost nods his head, giving you the card back. “And the Seven-Two?” He asks, his voice holding curiosity. “Got them after the joker. Worst possible hand… just like the situation I was dropped into when I stupidly decided to go home one year.” you hold out the cards, fanned out. “Pick a card.” Ghost takes a card, looking at it slyly, blocking it with his large hand. Four of Diamonds. He puts it back, you in turn shuffling the deck well. Even letting Ghost shuffle them. “How did you learn… this?” He places the deck on the table, sliding it over to you. You shuffled the deck once more, taking the top card and showing it to Ghost, he nodded. You smile lightly when you see it’s four of diamonds. “My dad taught me when I was young, I got really into it. I got good at it too, but I kinda hated myself for it… My dad was a thief too, to be able to pay for bills. Especially when my mother got cancer. He used ‘magic’ to distract people while he pickpocketed them.” You pause, showing a sleight of hand trick, Ghost doing the same trick. It is easy, just hide the card behind your hand, the easiest trick in the book.

You don’t know why you are telling him your life story, especially in the briefing room. He’s quiet, listening, paying attention. Not interrupting you, letting you just talk and let your brain run. You feel safe with him, yes you feel safe with everyone in the team. But they just have a different air about them, may sound cheesy but he’s like a large bear that’s always watching over you, but can be a vicious wolf when needed. “Came home one Christmas, it was the first Christmas without my mother. I thought that was the worst fucking Christmas. I was wrong.” You mumble, dealing out the cards between yourself and Ghost. Setting up for Last Card, a distraction. “I get that…” he states, picking up his cards, knowing you’re trying to get a distraction set up. You hate having to confront your memories, Ghost understands that, he hates it too.

You look at him, eyes meeting his, emotions raging like a stormy sea in yours. You place a card down, Ghost picks up and immediately plays the card. “I have three siblings, all half siblings. Confusing family apparently.” Ghost tilts his head “Different mother with brother, different father with sisters?” You nod, surprised he got it correct. “Yeah, my oldest sister is basically the star child. Her young son and daughter are a priority for the whole family. Another kid on the way, my middle sister, lives with our grandparents on my mothers side.” You smirk when you hold up your last card, one play away from winning. “Last time I saw my dad we argued, the same year I joined the army.” Your brother and you are close but both too busy with life, he’s older by 14 years, oldest sister by 12, middle by 10.

“I was in the Army for around three years, each year I spent Christmas on base, taking the time to hone in on my skills. Got begged by my middle sister to come home for Christmas one year.” You smile when you see Ghost reset the cards for another round of Last Card. “Dad treated me like his personal slave again. Got questioned left and right for the first hour, then the oldest sister, her husband and the kids arrived. My presence was basically non-existent, kids liked me. Didn’t mind them, got them to be quiet for a bit when I was telling ’em about my job. But got scolded quickly for telling them, I wasn’t even going into detail about the shit I saw on my first deployment.” You groan, the memory making you feel sick. “Before you ask, no they didn’t contact me before my deployment. Only contacted me once they found out my team got injured.” You pause. “But my grandparents on my fathers side, I like them. My grandfather is Scottish, my grandmother was, well still is Irish. Good mix” You chuckle, Ghost just hums.

“So, not going home for Christmas after this mission then?” He quips, you chuckle lightly. “Hell no. Probably scare the kids off with the scars, cause I just know someone will beg for me to take off the mask.” Ghost plays his last card, leaving you with two left. Ghost places a hand over yours, eyes meeting yours. His dark chocolate eyes warm, telling you you’re not alone, keeping you grounded. “How about we go get you ready for this mission.” He states, not a question, not a command, more a suggestion without the question. You nod, swiping up the cards and snapping a rubber band around them again. The box got ruined long ago. You move towards the door, ready to sit in a chair in the medical wing and have one of the girls dab brushes and sponges on your face for the next hours and wrap you up in an ungodly short dress. Ghost’s hand lands on your shoulder just as you’re about to step foot into the corridor, you turn to look at him. He brings a hand up next to your face, performing a sleight of hand. “Forgot your joker, love.” You smile, shoving his shoulder lightly. He hands it to you, you shake your head lightly, pushing the card to his chest. You keep your eyes on the card, his jacket, his breathing. “Keep it, for good luck.” You whisper, you step away from him, his hand holding the card to his chest.

Ghost watches you walk down the corridor, looking over the file again and again. His chest tightens, heart speeding up a fraction, heat pooling in his cheeks. He’s beyond thankful for the balaclava. He doesn’t understand why he gets this warm feeling, why he gets the urge to have physical contact when he sees you vulnerable. He’s lost and confused. He just wants to hold you close, tell you everything is okay, hear you tell him that everything is going to be okay. But he doesn’t want to get too close, keep you at arm’s length, keep you out of his wreckage of problems.

——

“And Done!” The younger girl in front of you states, she steps back looking at her hard work. She successfully made the scars blend in with your skin, if you look close enough you can still see the slight difference between the textures. You sigh, feeling like you just cake painted onto your face, you’re not one to wear a full face of make out. Maybe some mascara and lipgloss at most, otherwise you just go as is. “Time for the dress!” The girl - Amy - says, her bright personality a stark contrast against your gloomy one. “Just give me the dress.” You snap, already sick of her excessive talking, snatching the dress on the hanger, covered in a black sleeve to keep it protected. “Thanks, bye” You mutter as you walk out of the medical wing, keeping your head down. Happy to be out of the disgusting smelling medical wing, happy to be walking to your room.

(Dress Inspo , Hair Inspo, some sort of braid into a bun or just nice wavy - Eye Shadow)

You stare at the dress that hugs your body, the feeling uncomfortable as you grimace at how much skin is exposed. You swallow the lump in your throat as you tug at the silky fabric. The bodice hugs your body, the rest of the fabric becoming loose and flowing from your waist down to the floor. You’re thankful it’s not skin tight the whole way and nor is it short. “Fuck, god dammit” you wiggle, trying to tie the intricate back laces. You sigh, stomping your feet on the ground as you walk towards the door. Heels clacking against the concrete in the corridor as you keep a hand behind you, holding the dress together. Thankfully everyone was in the common area of the 141 barracks. You peek your head around the corner, your plan to grab whoever your eyes land on first to come help you.

Oh how the cards were in your favourite, Laswell was walking in your direction. “Laswell!” You whisper yell gaining her attention quickly. “Y/N? What are you.” You cut her off by grabbing her hand and quickly walking back to your room, shutting the door and turning around so your back is to her. “I can’t tie it up. Help.” Laswell chuckles at your predicament, smiling as she ties the dress up. You turn around when she taps your shoulder, she adjusts the few strands that hang out from your hairstyle, making sure all the final touches are done. “You look beautiful” you smile, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Thank you” you whisper, not trusting your own voice. “Not used to this type of thing…” Laswell chuckles, her hands holding yours, the bangles on your wrist jangle. The necklace that’s around your neck hangs low, the small blue sapphire catching the light, a silver cold against your skin. You want your dog tags back, they have a sort of weight that comforts you.

“Well, you look stunning nonetheless, knife secure? Clutch with ID?” You pick the simple black and silver clutch up from the bed, ID securely inside, tapping your thigh that has a knife strapped to it securely. “Yes ma’am” you nod, Laswell nods as she opens the door for you. You make your way out the door, allowing Laswell to walk in front of you. Your heels echo around the corridor, your dress floating behind you gently, the light silky fabric catching the light. Laswell turns around and motions for you to stop, letting her get the boy’s attention.

Your hands are shaky, breath catching in your throat. Why are you doing this? You don’t ever do this, you don’t ever wear dresses anymore. You haven’t even worn heels in years, makeup got discarded long ago. Your mind races, your hands running up and down your dress over your thighs, the clutch tucked under your arm as you straighten up. You hear Laswell call for you, you hold the clutch in front of you as you let out a deep shaky breath. You round the corner, your eyes meeting Price’s immediately.

Laswell calls for you after shushing the team, Gaz and Ghost are decked out in their gear. Soap’s back is to you, Price is fixing his tie and suit, making sure he looks the part of a bodyguard. “God this is tedious” the Scotsman’s groaned, Price just shakes his head, his actions halting when he sees you enter the room. His ice blue eyes wide, a smile forming on his face, his heart swelling with pride. You’re like a daughter to him, he’s beyond protective of you. Soap looks at him confused, he turns around to see what he’s looking at. His stormy blue eyes widen, brows raised and mouth agape when his eyes meet yours. He scans you up and down, seeing the silky blue dress cascade down your body, his voice is stuck in his throat.

“You look stunning…” Price states as he moves past Soap, who is standing there like a gaping fish. “Thank you…” you whisper, Price smiles as he brings you into a gentle hug. “I wish this was on different terms” he chuckles as he pulls away, hearing Laswell protest at to hug, saying he will muck up your outfit and hair. “Yeah, but hey. Hopefully after this it will be different next time.” You joke, as you look around the group. Ghost nods to you, his eyes full of admiration, amazement even. “You look amazing!” Gaz calls out, walking over, holding you by the shoulders, looking you up and down. “Thanks” You laugh gently, pushing his shoulder gently. You look over Gaz’s shoulder, eyes meeting Soap’s. A blush spreads from your cheeks to your ears as you see him look you up and down, but still keeping his eyes on yours after his full body scan. He’s still gaping at you like you’re an angel, some mythical creature sent down to guide him. “Didn’t know you owned a suit.” You chuckle when you walk up to him, smiling softly, trying to ignore all the butterflies fluttering around your stomach and chest. The clenching of your chest, the lump in your throat.

Soap shakes his head gently as he blinks quickly, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. “I-… I… Steamin’ Jesus” he breathes out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You look bloody beautiful, Lass” he states quietly, his hands coming up to gently cup your cheeks. Looking into your eyes, you can see the tornado of emotions in his eyes. Adoration, awe and even devotion spills from him. Your hands gently wrap around his wrists, you lean into his touch, letting the quiet moment sink in. Everyone else knows you need to ground yourself before this, allowing you to ground yourself with the person who is going to be by your side for most the night is what you do. Your eyes flutter closed as you let out a sigh, Soap leans his forehead on yours, careful to not ruin your hair or makeup. “You can do this Lass, you’re strong, you know you can do this.” He whispers, his eyes scanning your features, the gentle blue and black dusting your eyelids catching his eye. You open your eyes again, trailing from Soap’s shoes up to his face, meeting his ice blue eyes. “Ready?” He asks, not pushing you to answer. “Yes Sir.” Soap chuckles at your answer, he kisses the crown of your head before pulling away.

You turn around, Soap’s hand lands on the small of your back. “You two ready?” Price asks, approaching you two. He got a small black velvet box in his hand. You look down at it when he hands it to you, it’s a pair of blue and silver earrings. They are crawler earrings with a small blue gemstone hanging down, meaning they wrap up and around your ear. A small microphone and speaker tucked close on the inside of your ear, concealed inside the jewellery. “Yes sir.” You state, you take the earrings as put them one, Soap helping with the clasp. “Can you hear me, Love?” Ghost speaks through the Comms, you can hear it crackle to life, it is faint as it is not right in your ear. “Yeah, a bit faint.” You state, Laswell explains that you can’t have an ear peice or you could get called out.

“Right, let’s get this done.” Price states, Gaz is ready with the keys. Ghost ready with his Rifle strapped to his back. “Good luck and happy hunting” Laswell states as she sees you all off, nodding to you. Soap opens the door for you, helping you get in the SUV and not get the dress caught on anything. You’re between Ghost and Soap, in the middle seat. A bit of a tight fit but that’s fine. Your hand is wrapped tightly around Soap’s, your other hand playing with your clutch. Price is in the front seat, Gaz driving.

——

Ghost got out of the SUV half a block away down a back street, quickly getting to the roof of a building. You stayed in the middle seat, leaning onto Soap, now playing with his fingers as you focus on getting your Italian accent on point. Then the car stops, your heart is racing, you can feel a drop of sweat trail down your back when you spot the high security outside the large building. Most of it glass, marble pillars can be seen just past the doors, money flaunting jackass clearly too stuck up to notice how exposed the building is. “You’ve got this, we will be there as soon as something goes south.” Price states, turning around placing a hand on your knee. You nod, smiling softly.

Soap leads you to the security check in, anxiety thumping in your chest, heart beating against your ribs. You can see Soap’s fingers twitching to hold you close, but he goes against it. You swallow down the acidic feeling in your throat, breathing deeply and channelling the personality of a spoiled woman of a mafia boss from Italy.

“Name and ID” a large man states, around the same height and build of Ghost. His accent is thick, Russian. “Claudia Volta” you state confidently, sass and the ‘daddy’s little girl’ attitude spilling off you in waves. You hand over your ID, your picture and the fake name printed on the card. The man looks you up and down, his eyes glancing over to Soap who has a blank but serious face plastered. “ID Sir” the security man asks, his hand held out for the ID. “Oh, he’s just a bodyguard. Papa wanted him to come with me, I said no but he insisted.” You talk sweetly, Italian accent sticking. “I still need his ID ma’am.” He insists, you can tell he’s trying to keep his eyes off your chest. You’re leaning towards him, hand dancing up and down his arm, your chest in his line of sight. “He’s not important, he’s just going to be with me all night.” You speak into his ear, pressing up against him. “O-Okay, Here you go ma’am” he states as he hands back your ID. You smile sweetly up at him, thanking him.

Ghost is watching the scene unravel through the scope, scanning the area, his jaw clenching when he sees the guard clearly look down at your chest. Soap himself is fighting the urge to bash the man’s head in, choke him out, bludgeon him and tell him how disgusting it is to blatantly stare at a woman’s chest. You want to throw up, feeling disgusting as you feel his eyes still lingering on your form as you walk into the building, Soap close behind you.

Your heels click against the white marble tile, the lights shining down, almost blinding you. Marble pillars line the wide corridor short, leading into a large open multi-storey room. Glass back and front, staircase off to the right, a security guard standing point. A black rope with a sign in many different languages stating ‘Do Not Enter, Private Personnel only’. The cat walks above has glass bannisters, no surprise there, this man wants glass everywhere. The grand staircase in the middle has security lining both sides, the man of the hour is at the top of the stairs. The layout almost reminds you of the Wright’s Bach House.

“This place is huge…” Soap mumbles next to you, looking around subtly. You just nod, eyeing the man you need to pickpocket talking to a group of men and women at the top of the staircase. You’re surrounded by many men and women in fancy suits and dresses, glammed out to high heaven. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel eyes on you, hoping it’s just Ghost watching from his position outside. “Found the target” you say quietly, turning to Soap. The music is muffled by the crowd talking, mingling with drinks in their hands, some fancy finger food. “Aye, we can’t get him immediately” he states, his back is stiff when he weaves through people, trying to avoid any collisions. Your fingers thread through Soap’s, his shoulders relax slightly. “Just stay close, we will get to him soon enough” you whisper into the comms, knowing if you go any closer than you already are you won’t be able to pull off the bodyguard nod rich girl act.

You mingle with a few people, holding a glass of champagne between your fingers, the bitter taste feeling acidic in your throat. Soap lingers, trying to keep up the bodyguard act for as long as he can. One of the women compliments your dress, saying how well it suits you. “Thank you so much” you say, complimenting her in return, you guess some rich people aren’t too bad. “I’ll be right back, going to get another drink.” The lady says, her accent thick, French? Maybe, you’re not sure. You just nod, turning around to bump into someone, almost spilling the drink in your hand. “Oh- I’m sorry.” You state as you look up, heart beat quickening when you realise it’s the man of the hours, the target himself.

“It’s alright. You look Divine Miss…?” He subtly asks for your name, you smile sweetly, trying to make sure to act tipsy. “Claudia, Claudia Volta” the man’s eyes widened at the recognition of the last name. “You must be Mr. Volta’s daughter?” You giggle lightly, shrugging gently. “Yes, that is me. You must be Victor Andreev?” He nods with a pearly white smile, it makes you feel sick. “Yes, that is me. It’s a pleasure to meet you Claudia.” He states, he takes your hand, bowing to kiss your knuckles before standing up. You see Soap clench his jaw and fists, the urge to deck the man running through him like a wild beast. “You’ve got quite a crowd here for this event Mr. Andreev. Questo è fantastico! (This is great)” you state, a hand coming up to feather over his arm.

He’s clearly interested in more than just talking with you. His eyes have barely left your cleavage. Your skin crawls when you feel his eyes rake over your body. “It is quite fantastic.” He says, his hand coming to lay on the small of your back. “Questo è un posto bellissimo. This is a beautiful place you’ve got here Mr. Andreev” you smile, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. “Call me Victor, Love” he smiles, guiding you to the stairs towards what you would assume is the more VIP area of the event. ‘Love’ Disgusting, it sounds like acid when it comes from him. Like a bullet dipped in bleach, burning your skin.

You only ever let Ghost or Price call you love, Gaz defaults to ‘mate’ so there’s no worry there. Then Soap calls you Lass most of the time, barely ever uses your call sign. Barely anyone knows your name, Price and Laswell obviously. Maybe Ghost? He is your Lieutenant after all, he kinda needs to know the ins and outs of his team to a point. But otherwise, Gaz and Soap highly likely don’t know. Which you’re thankful for, cause god did you hate when people call out your name.

You glance over your shoulder towards Soap, who is making his way towards you, his eyes blazing with anger. “Where are we going?” You ask, feeling a shiver go down your spine when you feel Victor pull you close by your waist. His large hand feels disgustingly warm, making you feel like something is wrong. “Just out to the balcony, Is that your bodyguard behind us?” He asks, turning to look at Soap. You can see the dark look in Victor’s eyes, his smile faltering a little. “Yeah, Papa insisted on me having one this evening.” You sigh, leaning into Victor, playing the tipsy daddy’s girl. “Right, well he should know you’re safe with me.” He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You hear the faint sound of Ghost and Soap talk into the Comms. “What are you doing Joker…” Ghost mumbles down the Comms, the pillars blocking his view. “Lass, I’ve been cut off from you.” Soap growls, you see him getting stopped by the security guards on the stairs. “I just need to talk to him for a moment… if that’s okay?” You ask, your hand coming to lay on the man’s chest, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Oh, Of course. Don’t take too long…” Victor states, his hand lingering on your waist as you make your way back down the stairs, pulling Soap off to the side. Excusing yourself and him from the security guard.

You’ve tucked yourself just by the staircase, out of view from Victor. Soap looks down at you, hands twitching to put his hands where Victor’s were, wipe away the disgusting feeling that would be sticking there. “If something goes wrong, I’ll call you. I’ll get myself out of there, Ghost won’t be able to see me. Laswell is watching the cameras. Trust me Soap…” You whisper, your hand lingers at the junction of his forearm and elbow. “Alright, I’ll be at the bottom of the stairs waiting. Okay Lass?” He states, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You nod, a small smile on your lips. You walk back to Victor, seeing him eyeing you up and down again. “Stay safe, Love…” You hear Ghost state down the comms, you nod your head slightly, knowing Ghost is watching you closely.

Victor wraps his arm back around your waist, bringing you to the balcony, holding you a bit close for comfort. The chill in the air hits you like a rock. Victor notices you fight off a shiver, he smirks to himself, his mind turning to the dark corners. You turn around in his grasp when you lean on the railing, he’s caging you in with his arms. A small smirk on his lips, you can smell his cologne, it’s strong, sickly strong. Your chest is pushed up against his, your backside pushed up against the glass railing. “Finally have you to myself darlin’, you cold?” He states, his eyes darkening. His face is close, you can feel his breath on your cheeks, your lips. “Just a little, nothing I can’t handle.” You whisper, trying to control your breathing, you know where this is leading. No one else is out here, no one can see out on the balcony, apart from the two security guards at the entrance of the balcony.

Victor’s large hand grips your thigh under your dress, thankfully not the thigh witht he knife. Your hands glide up his chest, slinking under his jacket. You look at him through your lashes, moving your hips to meet his, you can feel the hard-on in his pants. It makes you feel gross, violated almost. Victor licks his lips, you swallow the urge to gag when he smashes his lips against yours, a rumble of a groan leaving Victor’s throat. He hikes up your thigh, your leg resting on his hip, you play into the role. Moaning softly when he grinds into you, your stomach twisting into knots of disgust.

You don’t want your first times to be taken by this man, you subtly feel his suit pockets for the USB Stick. You feel the small device in the pocket on the inside of his jacket. You sneakily slip your hand into he pocket, acting like you’re slipping his jacket off. His lips trail down your neck, biting gently and licking. You glance over his shoulder, holding the USB in his hand. You eyes catch Soap’s, he has managed to sneak past the security, knocking the ones by the door out quietly. He sees the fear in your eyes, he’s quick to act. Kicking the glass open, grabbing Victor by the back of his shirt, ripping him off you.

“You disgusting bastard!” Soap growls out, throwing the man to the ground. You let out a deep breathing, fixing your dress. Hiding the USB in your dress, you quickly pick up the clutch from the ground. Victor is stumbling to his feet, hands grazed, jacket half off, hair messy. “What the fuck…” Victor growls out, he looks up at Soap, who is fuming. Jaw clenched, fist’s ready to strike as he stomps towards the man. “You’re a fucking disgusting man! Don’t ever lay your hands on a woman again!” His Scottish accent comes out strong when he’s angry. “John…” You whisper, your hand wrapping around his arm, gently tugging him towards you. “Now Ghost” you state, a deep wet thunk sounds out. Victor crumbles, knees buckling and head hitting the ground. Blood pools on the floor, a dark crimson hole marks the man’s forehead. Ghost managed to change buildings as soon as he heard the conversation about the balcony, Price took Ghost’s old spot.

“Good shot L.T” Soap states, his arms wrapping around you tightly. Tucking your head into his chest, his nose nuzzled into the crown on your head. “Let’s get out of here” you mumble, gripping Soap’s jacket tightly. He guides you past Victor, keeping you up against him. He guides you past everyone and security, it just looks like a drunk woman and her guard guiding her back home.

Gaz is ready with the car, you slide into the back seat. Soap sliding in next to you, you let your head lean back against the headrest. Gaz sees the look in your eyes when you get in the car, the anger on Soap’s face as he drives away. You pick up Price who looks at you, with a small nod, knowing how hard this was for you. When Ghost gets in the SUV, you can see he’s tense, his hands in fists when he gets comfortable next to you. You sigh, leaning into Soap, your hand lays on top of Ghost’s. The ride back to base is quiet, filled with tension, thick enough to slice with a butter knife.

——

You immediately ran to the shower, leaving your heels in the car, ripping the hair pins and hair ties out of your hair. Soap and Ghost were talking, your heels hanging from Soap’s fingers by the ankle straps. Price told everyone just before they got on base to meet at the briefing room tomorrow morning, you gave Price the USB before you got out of the car. Gaz went with Price to help with finding whatever else is on the USB.

You rip open your drawers, grabbing the makeup wipes that Laswell gave you, aggressively wiping at your face. You throw the dirty wipes in the bin, shaking out your hair quickly. Your hands fiddle with the back straps, the interacte weaving and tying of them getting on your nerves. You yell in frustration, slamming your chest of drawers shut. You dash out of the bathroom, the dress floating behind you as you dash down the corridor, knowing that Soap and Ghost are on their way to the showers anyways. Yes you’re the only girl on the Task Force, you were lucky enough to get the one room with an attached bathroom. Tears of frustration pool in your eyes, just as you were about to reach the doors of the building, Soap and Ghost walk through. You let out a heavy breath, you immediately walk up Soap, leaning your forehead against his chest. His hands come to rest on your shoulders, confusion written over his face, the anger from before draining from him quickly. Ghost looks at you, his chest aching in a way he hates, he doesn’t understand it.

“What’s the matter Lass?” Soap questions, your heels still in his hand as he holds you close with his free arm. Ghost notices the light red marks on your bed, you were trying to undo your dress but not being successful. Ghost’s hand hovers over your back he can already see how tense your back and shoulders are, his eyes looking over all the small scars littering your back. “Is it your dress?” Ghost asks quietly, knowing you can hear him. You nod your head, your forehead still pressed into his chest. Ghost looks to Soap, the Scotsman nods, knowing you just need help, need grounding again. Ghost gently pulls you away from Soap, guiding you gently to your room. Soap follows behind, dropping your shoes by the end of your bed, grabbing a change of clothes for you. He chuckles when he spots the shirt he lended you a while ago, the sweat pants you stole from Gaz a few months back for winter are still in good condition, surprisingly from how much you wear them.

Ghost gets the shower running, you seated on the toilet, lid down. Your face in your hands, gripping your hair. “Joker…” Ghost says softly, looking over at you from his spot by the shower, his hand feeling the water. His gloves are on your bed, along with his tactical vest. You look up at him, eyes dull. He dries his hand on the soft towel that’s hanging by the shower, he crouches down in front of you, his eyes finding yours. Soap enters the bathroom, moving around Ghost, placing the spare clothes on the bench by the sink. You’re still in the dress, he watches the silent conversation exchange between you and Ghost. You nod your head softly, standing up and leaning into Ghost, his arms wrapping around you softly. His cologne comforting you, Ghost nods to Soap who is leaning against the bathroom sink.

Soap pushes himself off the bench, his hands gently touching your exposed back, his hands warm. He’s working on the ties of your dress, pulling them gently. You sigh when you feel the dress loosen, your arms holding the blue fabric to your chest, hiding yourself from them. Soap runs his hands up your back, removing the necklace and unclamping the earrings, he kisses the top of your head, knowing this helps with grinding you. He moves away, he walks into your room, placing the earrings and necklace on your chest of drawers. Ghost pulls away, keeping his eyes up analysing the plain white shower curtain. You turn around, your back to Ghost, his hands combing through your hair, getting the stray few clips out of your hair. There’s been no talking this whole time, just silent comforting looks, touches.

Ghost’s hand slides down your back, he leans his forehead against the back of your head, his eyes closed. “If you need anything, Johnny and I are just outside the door.” He mumbles, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder through the balaclava. He’s pushing his own comfort to help comfort you, keeping his hands on your longer than normal, kissing your skin is new. You melt in his touch and Soap’s, their kisses leaving warmth run through your body, comfort and grounding. You have never felt as grounded before as you have when they take their time to help you, gentle touches and whispered words.

He leaves you to shower, shutting the door softly. He picks his vest up from the bed, shoving his gloves into his jacket pocket. “Is she alright?” Soap asks quietly, looking at Ghost with furrowed brows, a frown forming on his face. Ghost stares at Soap for a moment, mind fumbling with his words, trying to find an explanation. Soap can see that Ghost is thinking, his eyes focusing on the floor. “She’ll need time…” he finally mumbles out, his chest hurting with what you must’ve been thinking, the fear, the anxiety—the dread of being unable to do anything.

——

You lay in your bed, regretting the decision to tell the boys to go to their rooms. Your hands are clammy, your hair sticking to your forehead as a cold sweat drips down your brow. Eyes wide as you lay on your side, back to the wall, eyes scanning your room, barely any light seeping in from under the door and the gap in the curtains. Your chest hurts, and aches, your jaw is clenched, your goddamn teeth hurt from the tension. Tears sting your eyes as your hand grips the sheets by your head, you kicked the blanket off some time ago, the pillow pushed into the corner. You bury your face into the mattress, pushing yourself up onto your knees and you stare at the photo frame next your bed. You and the team, a photo you secretly took with Gaz’s help. You clamber off your bed, quietly opening your door, peeking your head out to make sure no one else was up and about. It was nearly midnight, surely no one else was up and about.

Your bare feet pad across the concrete, you hesitantly stand in front of Soap’s room. Hands shaking by your side as you try to pick up the courage to knock, but your running mind comes to halt when you hear the soft sound of a door clicking shut. Your head snaps up to the sound, you stare at the source of the sound. There stands the Lieutenant, he’s walking towards you, hood up. You lower your head, turning to face him, your fingers play witht he seam of the sweatpants. Ghost stands in front of you, his boots in your line of sight, he doesn’t do anything. Just standing there, letting you decide what will happen.

You look up at him, noticing he’s just wearing a plain balaclava, similar to the one you wear when you go for walks around base at night. No dark paint surrounds his eyes, it reminds you of the night he joined you outside. Ghost tilts his head towards Soap’s door, you just nod your head gently. You step to the side, Ghost knocking on the door. You hear the grumbled curses on the other side, shuffling and a groan. You look up at Soap when he opens the door, eyes barely open, hair tousled. He’s shirtless but has a pair of black sweatpants on, he looks from you to Ghost, looking back at you. Your eyes say it all, he opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. You pause when you step into his room, turning back to look at Ghost, he was about to walk away when you grab his arm, his hands still in his pockets. “Please…” you whisper, Ghost and Soap look at each other, confused and concerned.

You gently tug on Ghost’s hoodie, Soap has made his way back to his bed, not caring what you do. He lays on his back, arms behind his head, as he lets out a deep breath. “Move it Johnny” Ghost’s voice rumbles, causing the Scotsman to flinch. Soap looks at the large man confused, you’re standing in front of him, eyeing the middle of the bed, exactly where Soap is. “God Jesus” he grumbles, moving over. You clamber onto the bed, Soap pushed up against the wall, you tucked into his side. You look over at Ghost who is just sitting on the side of the bed, a small dissatisfied sound comes from you. Soap grabs the large Englishman, pulling him down to cage you both in. “What the hell Johnny” Ghost growls, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Shut yer mouth and let me sleep.” Soap sneers, his arm wrapping round you. Your head tucked under his chin. Ghost sighs, he turns onto his side, he looks down at you. You’re tucked into Soap, back against his chest, your hands gently grab Ghost’s hand. They run up to his shoulders, your eyes are half lidded, fingers dancing across the edge of his balaclava.

You want to lift the thick fabric, see what he looks like under the shield he wears daily. Ghost leans into your feather light touch, his tension easing. Ghost sighs, his hand coming up to lift the mask, knowing it’s far too dark for you to see his face clearly, you smile when you see him place the mask on the bedside table. Your eyes make out very little in the dark room. You coax him closer, tucking him into you like you are with Soap. Ghost allows it, his nose nudging your neck, arm wrapping around your and Soap. You feel safe, protected and loved being sandwiched between the two men, your hands run your Ghost’s hair, it’s short on the sides, a fade of some sort. Short on top, not as long as Soap’s mohawk but not as short as a buzz cut. It’s soft and silky.

Your mind comes to a mumbled hum, your body relaxing as you let sleep take you.

————

Next Chapter!

#fanfic #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #soap fluff #ghost fluff #angst

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raised-u-fr0m-perdition · 3 months

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we could be more | dean winchester | 3

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

BLOODLUST

NOW PLAYING: REVENGE - TANFEELZ

I walked down the stairs, and when he saw me, Dean choked on his morning coffee while Sam sipped it, amused.

“Morning, boys.” I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring one of my own, adding creamer.

“Morning.” Sam smirked.

“Is that what you’re wearing on the case?” Dean asked, putting his hand over his chest. I looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should start teasing him or not. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, high-waisted slim jeans and was wearing a baseball cap.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “What, can’t call me Beanie now?”

“I still will and you know it.”

“Course you will, but what about my outfit is distracting, Dean?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam chuckled.

“Nothing.” He coughed. “Let’s just get in the Impala as quickly as we can. I can’t wait to drive her again.”

We were now in the Impala, driving to Red Lodge cause we’d gotten another case. Dean was happily singing along to the music, while Sam and I watched him, amused.

“Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?” He whooped, grooving along to the music.

”If you two ever wanna get a room, let Sam and I know.” I quipped, making Sam laugh.

”Oh, don't listen to them, baby. They don’t understand us.” He cooed.

”You’re in a good mood.” Sam smirked.

”Why shouldn't I be?”

“No reason.”

”Got my car, got my case, things are looking up…”

”Wow, Dean, give you a couple of severed heads and mutilated cows and you’re Mr Sunshine.” I chuckled, making Sam cackle, and Dean laughed too, to my surprise.

”How far to Red Lodge?” He asked.

”300 miles.” Sam replied.

Dean’s eyes glanced back to where my bandage used to be, thinking. ”Beanie, are you good for me to-“

”Dean, I’m not fragile, just floor it.” I rolled my eyes, and he pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding up.

We walked up to the sheriff in his office, who admittedly had an impressive moustache.

“Hello sir, we’re with World Weekly News.” I introduced. “My name’s Lily Carter, and these are my partners Fred Logan,” I pointed at Sam, “and Jensen Barnes.” I gestured to Dean. “Is it alright if we ask a few questions?” I asked, and Dean and Sam looked at me in masked surprise, wondering how I lied so naturally.

“The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time.” He replied coldly.

“Sure, sure, we understand that,” Sam nodded, “but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?”

“Mhmm.”

“And the other, a, uh, Christina Flanagan.”

“That was two days ago. Is there-“ A lady knocked at the door, pointing at her watch. The sheriff turned back to us, frowning. “Alright, you three, time’s up.”

“One last question-“

“Yeah, what about the cattle?” Dean interrupted, stopping the sheriff.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eye twitching.

“You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained... over a dozen cases.”

“What about them?”

“Is there no connection at all, Sherriff?” I persisted, writing down my notes in a notebook.

“Connection… with..?”

”First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff.” Sam insinuated casually.

“Satanic ritual stuff.” Dean added.

“You’re not kidding…” The sheriff trailed off.

”No.”

”Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?”

“How?” I asked.

“Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat'll split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?”

“Weekly World News.” Dean said confidently.

“World Weekly News.” Sam corrected.

“Weekly World-“

”World Weekly-“

”Weekly-“

”World-“

“World Weekly News.” I finished, closing my notebook. “They’re new. We’ll be leaving you to it, officer.” I walked out, prompting the two to follow after.

“How are you so good at lying?” Sam asked.

“You get good once you become a freak of nature.” I replied. “Hide your name or people will be after your blood and secrets.”

“What next?” Dean asked.

“Examine the bodies. I’ve got a couple of doctor’s coats in the car.”

“You touched my baby without telling me?”

“I cleaned the fingerprints off, Dean, you’re fine.”

We walked over to the front desk of the morgue wearing our doctor’s coats. There was an intern at the desk, and when we walked up to the desk, Dean took a look at the tag, which read ‘J. Manners’.

“John.” Dean guessed.

“Jeff.” Jeff grimaced.

“Jeff.” He repeated. “I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr Dworkin’s on vacation.”

“But he’s back and he’s screaming for you right now, so if I were you, I would…” Dean whistled, and Jeff ran away.

“Real smooth, Dean.” I sighed, taking a lock-picking tool and opening the door, letting us into the room with the heads.

“Yeah, I know. Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?“

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead.” Sam confirmed.

“Yeah. So much f'd up stuff happens in Florida.” We got three pairs of latex gloves and put them on, wheeling out a tray of a corpse with a box between it’s legs. “All right, open it.”

“No, you open it.”

“No, you-“

”You-“

“Both of you are wusses.” I rolled my eyes, carrying the box to a table and opening it. They both approached, wincing at the sight of the decapitated girl’s head. “So, decapitated head, which is nasty, but the forehead is clean.”

“Wow. Poor girl.” Sam tutted.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat.” Dean suggested. “You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

“You thought of it.”

“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Not a quote from Silence of the Lambs.

“Again, you’re wusses.” I searched in the mouth, checking the teeth and airways.

”Beanie, do you need me to catch you if you-“

”I’m not going to faint, Dean, but you might.”

“Just checking.”

”Dean, get me a bucket.” Sam asked from behind me.

“Did she find something?”

“No, I’m gonna puke.”

“Hey, guys.” I beckoned them over and lifted up the lip again, and both of them retched. “Oh, grow up. Look at the gum. This hole here?” I pressed a hole in the gum, and two pointed teeth sprang out.

“It's a tooth.”

“Sam, that’s a fang.” Dean corrected. “Retractable set of vampire fangs. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Well, that changes things.” Sam grinned.

“Ya think?”

We entered a bar, where there was a man smoking at the counter. We were moving to sit down when Dean pulled out my chair for me and tucked it in when I moved to sat down. Sam and I gave him a weird look, but let it go.

“How's it going?” Dean nodded, sitting down.

“Living the dream.” The bartender replied coolly. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

“So, we're looking for some people.” Sam started nervously.

“Sure. Hard to be lonely.”

“Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant.” He dropped a 50 dollar bill on the table, and the bartender took it. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink...”

“Sleep all day, party all night, kind of thing.” I added.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.” The bartender informed, cleaning a glass.

“Right, thanks.” We got up, leaving our half-finished beers on the table. The man who was at the bar was gone, but his cigarette was left. We walked out, and I took my gun out of my pocket, holding it inconspicuously.

“Do you also see the guy behind us?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we do.” Dean hissed. “Let’s lose him then question him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I whispered, and we quickly went to the right, and heard the footsteps behind us stop.

“Beanie, stay back, cause if this guy’s a vamp, he’s dangerous.”

“The hell I will. Why are you being so protective?”

“He’s here.” Sam muttered.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Dean grumbled before he sprang out, taking out a knife and throwing the guy against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. “Smile.”

“What?”

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of -- you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire.” He looked at Sam’s stunned face and nodded the best he could. “Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.”

“What do you know about vampires?” Sam interrogated.

“How to kill ‘em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.“ He started to pull away, but Sam reached in and pinned him harder to the wall. “Easy there, Chachi. We’re trying to keep me conscious here, aren’t we-“ I pulled Dean’s hand away from the guy’s neck and hook punched him, making him groan.

“You’re not in charge here, we are.” I growled, cocking my gun and holding it up. “So you better give us something before you find this at your temple.”

“Alright, alright!” He pulled up his lip, showing us his gum. “No fangs, happy? Gorgeous form, by the way.” Sam let him go, all of us relaxing.

“Damn, Ivy.” Sam breathed.

“Damn it is.” Dean chuckled.

“I like her.” The man chuckled, gesturing to me. “She one o’ your girlfriends, or somethin’?”

“They’d be honoured if I was.” I smirked.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ivonne Rainer.”

He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Rainer? You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

“Mick Rainer?” Dean repeated.

“Yeah, I’m his daughter.” I breathed. “What of it?”

“I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “I’m Gordon. Come with me.” We started walking to the car park. “And you boys?”

“Sam Winchester.” Sam introduced. “And, uh, my brother Dean.”

“I’ll be damned again. John Winchester’s boys? It’s like I’ve hit a jackpot.” We reached his car, and he opened it, revealing an arsenal of weapons. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot. Then there’s Michael Rainer.” He turned to me, whistling. “I ain’t ever met a man who can wrangle a spirit, demon, ‘geist, you name it- faster than he can. Shame he passed away as well.”

“Your dad’s dead?” Sam asked me, looking concerned.

“Again, story for another time.” I groaned, folding my arms.

“You seem to know a lot about our families.” Dean frowned.

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.”

“I don’t think they do.” I scoffed.

“There’s a lot your dads didn’t tell you, then.”

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam asked.

“Yep, been here two weeks.” I looked at his arsenal until I saw the hook, which had bloodstains on it. They were fresh. I looked back at Gordon, biting my lip.

“You ok?” Dean whispered in my ear. “Anything hurting?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I snapped back.

“Just checkin’, Beanie.” He turned back to Gordon. “Did you check out that Barker farm?”

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” Gordon shook his head.

“Where's the nest, then?”

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We can help.”

”Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon got in his car, looking out. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off, leaving us to stew in the events. I slipped the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pocket, storming over to the car.

“Bea- Ivonne!” Dean called, walking behind me. “What the hell?!”

Sam’s footsteps joined Dean’s. ”Dean, let me handle this-“

“No!”

I got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Dean and Sam got in, Dean in the seat beside me. I groaned in frustration, thankful that I didn’t have my powers. “Stupid Gordon revealing stupid everything-“

”Revealing what- Ivonne, talk to me! What the hell’s going on-“

”Dean!” Sam silenced Dean, leaning forward. “Can we talk about this once we’ve actually gotten a place to stay? Cause I personally don’t wanna die in a car crash and the last thing I hear is you two yelling it out!”

Dean sat back in his seat, groaning. “Fine.”

I didn’t say anything, I just started driving.

When we got a motel, the first thing Dean did was round on me.

“Is that the person who died, Ivonne?” He interrogated. “Cause you seem a whole lot angrier since Gordon mentioned Mick Rainer’s death.”

”What happened to my dad is none of your business-“

“A lot of things about you is none of our business!” Dean burst out. “Hell, the most I know about you is your name and what kind of coffee you like! You said your dad wasn’t around a lot and now both Sam and I know why, but you’re not telling us anything!”

“What about you, Dean, huh?” I countered, stepping forward and sizing him up. I was shorter, but oh well. “You’re not tellin’ me a lotta things either. You’re acting like I’m gonna collapse and die any minute, asking me if I’m doin’ ok, pullin’ out my chair, so what’s the deal about that, eh?” Dean seemed at a loss for words.

“We get that the subject is sensitive, but our dad died too.” Sam calmly explained. “We’d know how you feel.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“It’s hard to believe, but we do, and we want to help. We’re here to protect you. Tell us what happened.”

I stayed silent.

“Then we’ll wait.” Sam assured, then hugged me. Dean stood there awkwardly, looking guilty. But not for this, I don’t think. When we stepped back, Sam smiled. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner.” He left, and Dean went into the bathroom. I opened my satchel, taking out some spare pyjamas and changing into them, laying joggers out for the boys. I changed into shorts, but the moment I pulled my top over my head, Dean walked in. He looked me up and down for a moment, at a loss for words again.

“Damn.” He coughed, then seemed to realise. “Not damn, bad Dean-”

”You’re good.” I smiled briefly, pulling my pyjama top on. “We’re gonna be in this kind of situation a lot. I, uh, packed some joggers for you.”

”Thanks.” He picked them up, looked at them, paused, then put them down. “Look, Ivonne, I’m sorry.”

”For what?” I chuckled. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me.”

”But what happened to your dad is your business. I’m not gonna pry, just tell me when you’re ready.”

”I can work with that.”

“And about the protecting you and all that jazz, it’s cause I blame myself for that knife in you.” I immediately turned to him, folding my arms.

“Hey, no, it wasn’t.”

”It’s just… it was my job to locate that guy and if I’d done it a little faster, your life wouldn’t be on the line.”

”You’d only find me dead with a knife in my jugular.”

”That’s specific.” He joked until he quietened down. “That’s how your dad died.”

”Close.” I smiled.

“And you’re attached to the name Lily Carter too.” He deduced. “She close?”

”They.” I paused, sitting on my bed. “Lily and Carter Rainer. My brother and sister.” Dean sat beside me, clasping his hands. Sam walked back in, and, sensing the situation, pulled up a chair. “I think I should tell you what happened. You guys told me the deal with your mom, so it’s fair play.”

”When you’re ready.” Sam nodded.

“I was meant to be the eldest sibling of five. It was me, then Carter, fifteen, then Quinn, Carter’s twin, then Lily, thirteen, then my mom’s unborn child, just 18 weeks in. I was 19. Quinn had been diagnosed with cancer just before mom got pregnant, and died soon after. It broke everyone, and even the gender reveal of my baby brother didn’t cheer anyone up. It was like we were soulless, and I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, especially not Carter, who started acting up.” I paused, breathing out shakily.

“You need to cut that attitude, young man.” I growled, facing Carter. “Quinn and dad are both dead, I know-“

”You don’t know!” He shouted.

”The hell I do! I’m trying my hardest to-“

”That’s where you’re wrong, Ivonne, cause you’re not trying at all.” Carter seethed. “Lily was taken out of school cause she kept crying and where are you during the day when I get into a fight?”

”Taking care of our mother.” I frowned. “Y’know, cause she’s pregnant with our brother and dad isn’t even alive to help so that means that I have to step in. Heck, he wasn’t even here in the first place. Just… go to your room!” I pointed to his room, and he stalked off, giving me a nasty look.

“Take your time.” Dean murmured.

”Nah, I need to… I need to get this out.” I gulped, trying to stop my voice from breaking. “If I don’t, I’ll explode. One day, we get the news that dad was found dead, but his heart was carved out of his body, almost so perfectly it was surgical. I completely bricked out Carter by then, cause I thought he didn’t need me and I had my own problems. Seems like a dreamwalking demon found his emotions good enough to feed on. In the night, I hear a scream, and then silence.” Tears started to fill my eyes as my voice broke. “I run to investigate and I find Lily dead with a knife stuck right through her jugular.”

I was reading a book, flipping the pages absent-mindedly. I frowned, looking at the introduction of the main character’s younger brother-

“IVY!” I heard Lily scream. “IVY, HE-“

Silence.

“Lily!” I called, leaping out of bed and rushing up the stairs. “LILY!” I burst into her room and almost collapsed, and she was lying in her bed, eyes open and a terrorised face.

But there was a knife stuck straight through her throat.

“Lily!” I cried, running over. “Lily…” I felt tears run down my face as I kissed her forehead, smoothing back her hair. I cradled her, sobbing as I tried to ignore the gaping hole that had appeared in me where Lily once was. “I’m so sorry, Lil. I’m so sorry…”

“God.” Dean breathed.

”Then I hear mom scream, then silence. I go up to her bedroom and there she is, a knife through her jugular and another in her belly, where my unborn brother was. We were going to name him Nathan. He wasn’t even alive yet and he was murdered…” I wiped a tear that went down my face. “Carter was there, smirking as if he did me a favour. Then another knife appeared in his hand, and he was about to do the same to me when he stopped and he…” I let out a loud sob, burying my face into my hands. Sam instantly moved to side hug me, while Dean gripped my hand. “He stabbed the knife… straight through his own throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. He wasn’t even awake in the first place.”

I’d barely finished mourning over Lily when a second scream pierced the house, which was my mom’s.

”PLEASE, SPARE ME! IVY, HELP ME-“

Silence.

I left Lily reluctantly, sprinting up the stairs two at a time to try and get there before the killer left. “MOM!” I kicked down her door, and I screamed at the sight. Blood stained her sheets, and there were two knives in her, one in her jugular and the other in her belly, where my now dead unborn brother is. I looked at the perpetrator and almost screamed.

It was Carter.

He was standing there, eyes glazed but a wicked grin on his face as he held another knife, preparing to throw it at me. However, in the nick of time, I felt my hand close around something. I didn’t even think about how I could use whatever was given to me, I just raised it, my finger pulled something and two loud bangs emitted from it, two holes appearing in my brother’s chest, and just after a black smoke flew up and out of the window. I stared at what was given to me with shaking hands, gasping in horror. It was a gun.

I’d shot my brother.

I ran over to Carter, taking the nape of his neck in my hand as I looked into his eyes. They were still glazed, as if he was sleeping.

He was sleeping.

“A dreawalker got to you, Carter.” I whispered, my quiet sobs turning to racking ones. I checked the gun wounds, which were black and like a crater, almost. The gun was still in my hand as the front door was knocked down, policemen filing in.

”After that, I completely broke down. My family was gone and murdered. So I got out of the police case innocent, fled Jersey and I’ve been moving ever since.”

“That…” Sam paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”

”My mom made my middle name Hazel cause it’s what she originally wanted to name me.” I whispered. “Her death, little Nate’s death, haunts me everyday. Even dad’s. I tried to buffer it by making the excuse that dad wasn’t there for anything and that mom cheated on him when she got the chance to, but it still hurts like hell. I can’t help but think if the dreamwalker will come back to finish the job with me.”

“Daniel Elkins?” I called out, venturing in. An old man turned around, frowning.

“Who’s askin’?” He rumbled, standing up.

”Ivonne Rainer, Michael Rainer’s daughter.”

”You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

”That’s right.” He took a look at my face, nodding.

”You look just like him. Got a little bit of Audrey too.”

”I’ve been told.”

“I’m sorry for your losses.”

”Thank you.” I nodded, then held out the gun. “I developed a sorceress’s powers the night I got this gun, my powers gave it to me, but it’s not an ordinary one. I talked to hunters who knew my dad and they pointed me to you.” I gave him the gun, which he examined.

”Your powers are a blessin’, girl.” He said gruffly. “This is called the Colt. Can kill anyone an’ anything and all you have to do is pull the trigger and have good aim.”

“Can you handle it?”

”Course I can. Who d’you shoot with this?”

”My brother, just after a dreamwalker left his body.”

He clapped my shoulder, looking solemn. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

”Ivonne, I am so sorry.” Dean pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. “I don’t have words either. But what happened isn’t your fault.”

“And we won’t let that dreamwalker hurt you.” Sam assured.

”We’ll kill it before it does.”

I felt kind of grateful for having Dean and Sam with me, but I also felt guilty.

”Do you need one of us to stay with you tonight?” Sam asked softly.

”Most likely.” I smiled awkwardly, then Dean raised his hand.

“I’ll do it. Sammy’s gonna take up the bed, him and his giant DNA.” Dean volunteered, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Whatcha thinking about?”

”I wanna track this Gordon guy.” I told them. “If he’s hunting vampires, he’s gonna do it tomorrow night and one may kill him. We don’t need another dead hunter.”

“She’s right.” Sam nodded. “We can track him down in the morning.”

”In the meantime, I packed joggers for you guys.” I gestured to the joggers. “I figured that we’d need a change of clothes if we happened to stay the night anywhere.”

“So that’s where that pair went.” Sam chuckled. “Nice one.”

“Now we don’t have to sleep in jeans.” Dean grinned, picking his up.

Dean emerged from the bathroom with just his joggers on, making Sam groan.

“Dean, it’s not you and I anymore.” He sighed.

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen a guy shirtless.” I smirked, making them double take. “Yeah. I have flings too.”

“Is Alex Wilde one of them, Beanie?” Dean smirked.

“No.”

“Well, there’s always time for it.”

“Ivy, are you comfortable with it?” Sam asked.

“Course. I practically raised Carter, so I can handle you both.

“That’s settled, then.” Dean grinned, shoving himself under the blanket. I quickly did my hair into a rope braid, and Dean’s eyes seemed to be… somewhere… on me.

“Dean…?” I raised an eyebrow, turning.

“Yeah, Beanie?”

“What are you staring at?”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smirked.

”I-I was staring at your necklace.” Dean stammered. “Wasn’t there before.”

“Ellen gave it. It was my mom’s.” I grinned, ruffling his hair. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered.” I got into bed, laying down next to Dean, both of us facing the ceiling. Sam turned off the light and laid down, falling asleep soon after. I heard a shift next to me.

“Beanie?” He muttered.

“Yeah?” I softly replied, turning my head to face his.

“What was Carter like?”

“He was like Sam, really. Smart, loyal, brave. Stubborn as hell. There’s not anything I wouldn’t have done for him. But he became a wreck after Quinn died, and it was so hard to recognise him. I guess that’s why I went so hard on him. I think I was trying to restore him in the worst way possible when I couldn’t deal myself.”

”I get that.” He whispered. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Sammy.”

”I can tell.” I smiled. “Even though you two fight like raccoons sometimes, you protect him. I just wished that I could have had the same thing with Carter.”

“You did what you had to do.” He assured. “Poor kid could’ve suffered worse had he woken up and been arrested for the murder of his family.”

”I suppose.” I shrugged. “Then again, I would’ve put my prints on the knives and said that I did it.” We stayed silent, just staring at the ceiling.

I shivered; it was cold. And, as if he had a radar, Dean sat up on his elbow, looking over. “You’re cold.”

“Excellent spot, Dean.”

“Sammy once said that staying close can preserve body heat.”

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to hit on me?”

“No, no! I do not. It’s that… I’m really warm, and I don’t want you to be cold cause then you’ll be uncomfortable-“

”I get it.” I grinned. “Sure.”

“Alright, uh…” He chuckled. “How are we gonna do this?” I scooted up to him, laying my head in the crook of his neck while my hand rested on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arms.

“You weren’t kidding.” I laughed. “This is like a radiator.”

“And you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He kissed my hair, sighing afterwards. “It’s only been a few, Beanie, and it doesn’t always seem like it, but I care about you. You take care of Sammy when I can’t. Heck, you’ve even saved my life-“

”Don’t say it.” I whispered, looking up. “Cause I know.”

I opened my eyes, yawning softly. Dean’s eyes were shut and Sam was cocooned in his blanket, so I pried myself out of Dean’s arms and quickly changed into a Led Zeppelin band shirt and jeans, pulling a black beanie over my head. Carter’s beanie. I got out a map, sat at the table and started triangulating the two murders and finding out the third location.

”Thanks, dad.” I whispered as I circled the third. I left a note for Sam and Dean, walking out and coincidentally running into Gordon.

“Morning, Ivonne.” He nodded.

“Gordon.” I replied with a small smile. “I thought I was the only early bird today.”

”I like to get a head start.” He grinned, and I felt unsettled a bit.

“Understandable.”

”Hey, uh, the gun you pointed at me, was that your dad’s gun?”

”It was.” I took it out of the inside of my jacket, holding it up.

“Mick Rainer’s gun.” Gordon chuckled. “Stuff of legend among hunters. There’s talk that it dated back farther than the Colt, and every owner, before passing it on, heats the metal and remoulds it, making the pattern-“

”-in the image of the next chosen holder, complete with their name.” I stored the gun back, smirking. “I know that story off by heart, thanks. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get breakfast for the boys.”

”BEANIE-“ Dean rushed out then stopped, still pulling on his shirt. “Oh.”

”Dean, I left a note.” I sighed.

”But I had to check!” He slumped. “Fine. Sam is cranky.”

”We better get that breakfast then.” I grinned. “Nice running into you, Gordon.” We walked off, and Dean turned to me, leaning in.

“Got a beer in your satchel?”

”I have a breath mint.”

”Ouch.”

That night, we were driving up to the farm which I’d said was Gordon’s next hit location. We went over, and there Gordon was, close to getting decapitated. Sam sprang into action, pulling Gordon out, while I punched the vampire, Dean rushing in to deliver another hit while I kicked him. The vampire was shoved against the belt, and Dean reached up, bringing the saw down on his head.

I watched while a vampire got brutally killed. And as he stared down on the body, with blood splattered on his face, Dean didn’t look guilty. Not in the slightest.

He looked like he enjoyed it.

I frowned, looking down as Gordon laughed, looking up. “I guess I owe you that drink.” We headed to the bar, where Gordon paid for the drinks. “I insist. Thank you, sweetie.“ He raised a glass, and Dean did too. “And another one bites the dust.”

”That’s right.” Dean smirked, both of them clinking glasses.

”Dean.” Gordon cackled. “You gave that big fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

”Beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful.”

”Beautiful?” I cut in. Sam just stayed silent, laid back in his seat.

”You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked.

”Yeah.” Sam nodded.

”Well, lighten up, Sammy!” Gordon encouraged.

”Only Dean and Ivy get to call me that.”

“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

”Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess.”

”Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job.”

“See? That's what I've been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.” Dean gestured to Gordon, but I tilted my head. Really? This dude?”

”Yeah, I could.” Sam grimaced, then stood up. “I’m not gonna put a downer on your parade. I’m going back to the motel.”

”I’ll go with him.” I stood up as well, smiling falsely as I walked behind Sam. “You boys enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey, Sam?” Dean called, making Sam and I turn around. “Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.” He threw the keys to Sam, who caught them. We walked out in silence, until Sam looked up.

Sam coughed. “Is it just me, or-“

“Is Dean being a douche?” I smirked. “Yeah. Big time.”

“This Gordon guy seems really off.”

“He does.” I nodded. “So I’ve got a way to find out who this guy is.”

We hung the keys in our room, and I dialled a number, putting it on speaker.

‘Harvelle's Roadhouse.’

“Ellen?” I grinned. “It’s Ivvy. Sam’s with me, and you’re on speaker.”

‘Ivvy, Sam! So good to hear from you.’

“Same here, Ellen.” Sam laughed.

‘You three are ok, aren’t you?’

“Yeah, we just had something to run by you.” I looked at Sam, patting him on the shoulder.

‘Yeah, shoot.’

“Has a guy called Gordon Walker ever stopped by your bar?” Sam asked.

‘Yeah, I know Gordon.’

“And?”

‘Well, he's a real good hunter. Why are you asking, sweetie?’

“We ran into him on a job and we’ll, we’re kind of working with him-“

‘Don’t do that, Sam.’ She warned.

“I thought you said he was a good hunter.” I frowned.

‘Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job you boys just let him handle it and you move on.’

Sam looked concerned, so he spoke up. “But Ellen-“

‘No, Sam- you just… listen to what I’m telling you, ok?’

”Alright, Ellen.” I nodded then said bye and cut the call. “Do we trust her information?”

“Rather her than Gordon.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, he sounded spooked.”

“We need to warn Dean.” I sighed. “Before it’s too late and he’s a copy of Gordon.” We went out, Sam putting coins in a machine and taking out two Cokes. He gave one to me, and I cracked it open and drank some out of it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I ignored it.

“Do you need my to get some food from the other one?” I asked.

“Two packets of crisps, maybe.” He nodded so I went to the other one-

Oh, god.

Noises of fighting rang out behind me, in which Sam was knocked out by two people, one holding a telephone that was used to knock him out. I pulled out my gun, aiming it at the woman who was holding it,

“Bad move.” I growled. “You never attack someone when their back is turned.” One of them bared their fangs at me, but the woman stopped him. “Take one step, I dare you.”

“She’s holding Michael Rainer’s gun.” The woman whispered to her companion. “She’s his daughter.”

“What of it?” I frowned.

“Can we trust her?” The man asked her.

“We can try.” She whispered, then spoke up. “My name’s Lenore. I knew your father.”

“Many people did.” I scoffed. “You’re just another Joe and Jane.”

“He helped us.” She smiled. “And you can too. We need your help, Ivonne. He told us you could, if you ever found us.”

I lowered my gun a little, then stiffened up. “How can I trust you?”

“‘One bullet can make one family and break another as well, so be careful where you use it.’.” She cited. “He told us a lot about you. About the scar cutting across your eyebrow and where you got it from, which was your first hunt.” She gestured to her own eyebrow, and I started to get the thought that she wasn’t lying. “How you stole his old leather jacket and love wearing beanies. How he would’ve given anything to see you more. We need your help, so please, don’t shoot.”

I took a deep breath before lowering my gun. “Fine. But I go anywhere Sam goes.”

“Ok, but you have to promise not to tell anyone where the nest is.” She begged, and I nodded.

I was waiting for Sam to wake up, when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

“Ivy?” I turned, seeing a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes who was making his way up to me. I laughed, standing up.

“Will?” I hugged him, grinning. “No way!”

“It’s so good to see you.” We stepped back, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me after we broke up.”

“It’s not the principle that you were a vampire.” I sighed. “It was the principle that I move around a lot for my work.”

He stared at me for a moment, a charged air in between us. “You like your work a lot, huh?”

“I’ve minimised vampire killings.” I smiled. “Only the evil ones.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. “I’m glad Lenore listened to my pitch.”

“I’m really proud of you, Will.” I paused, “Even if animal blood is the broccoli of your world.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“And I owe you my life for that. Honestly, I thought you’d have gotten over me by now.”

“You’ve probably heard this a million times, Ivy, but you’re impossible to get over.” He looked down, rumpling his hair with his hand. “I was just beginning to come to terms with our breakup and… now you’re here.”

“Should I be happy or sad about that?” I chuckled.

“I’d rather you be happy.”

“Will.” Eli came in, rounding the corner. “We need the girl.”

“I’m coming.” I walked with Eli, and the moment Sam saw me, he started struggling.

“Did you turn her?!” He growled, trying to break free.

“I’m ok, Sammy.” I assured, kneeling down in front of him. “These guys are clean, trust me. They do drink animal blood.”

“We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated.” Eli hissed.

“That’s enough, Eli.” Lenore warned.

”Yeah, Eli, that’s enough.” Sam teased.

“What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight.”

“Then why bring us here?” I asked.

“Believe me, I'd rather not. But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us.”

“So you’re asking us not to follow you.” Sam realised.

“We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone.”

“Give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“You know what I’m gonna do?” She got closer. “I’m gonna let you go.” She turned to Will, gesturing to us both. “Take them back. Not a mark on either of them.”

“We need to stop Dean.” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, we do.” I nodded.

We got back, and I leaned in the window to the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Will.”

“It’s nothing.” He smiled, leaning closer.

“Trust me, I owe you a lot for what you’ve done.” I grinned, tilting my head. Resisting drinking my blood, making the switch to animal blood, tackling members of your own family just to keep me safe, it’s a lot-“ I was silenced by his lips on mine, and I cupped his cheek, grinning stupidly when I pulled away. “I owe you for that too.“

“Pay me back later.” He smirked. “Your friend there looks like he’s gonna burst out into laughter.” I heard a snort, and I turned to Sam, who was looking up to the sky.

“Don’t mind me.” Sam giggled. “I’m just looking at this really interesting pitch black sky while you two are smooching.”

“Shut up.” I pulled a newspaper out of my satchel, thwacking Sam across the head before stuffing it back in. “You’re such a child.”

“I never knew that you were a romantic.”

“I was.” I smiled. “Will was a boyfriend.”

“Looks like the boyfriend. You met him in the nest and now you’re both kissing. Will and Ivy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“

”Scratch that, you’re a baby.” I opened the door to the motel room, and our smiles were wiped off our faces to see Gordon with Dean. I hung up my jacket, and my arm holster, which contained my gun, was left exposed.

”Where you been?” Dean asked.

“Can we talk to you alone?” Sam asked, and Dean seemed to agree.

“Mind chillin’ out for a couple minutes?” He followed us outside, and I shut the door.

“Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What are you talking about? Where were you?”

”The nest.”

”You found it?”

“They found us, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?”

“None.”

“Well, they didn’t just let you go-”

“That’s exactly what they did, Dean.” I frowned.

“All right, well, where is it?” Dean asked.

“We were blindfolded, so no, we don’t know.” I lied.

“Well, you've got to know something.”

“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?”

“We don't think they're like other vampires. We don't think they're killing people.” Sam urged.

“You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.” Dean asked, looking angry and confused.

”The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at us, Dean.” Sam gestured to him and I. “They let us go without a scratch.”

“Wait, so you're saying... no, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care.” He started walking, and we didn’t have much time to convince him. “We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?”

“What part of vampire do you not understand?” Dean growled. “If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“So you would kill me if I still had my powers?” I asked, silencing him for a moment. “We kill ‘evil’, Dean, not just any supernatural force. They’re not killing people, so we don’t kill them.”

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time.”

“Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man, he knows.”

“Gordon.“ I scoffed.

“Yes.” He nodded defiantly.

“You’re taking his word for it?” Sam asked cynically.

“That’s right.”

“Ellen says he’s bad news, Dean.” I persisted.

“You called Ellen?” Dean raised his eyebrows. We nodded. “And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. You may know her, Ivonne, but no thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend.” Sam seethed, fists clenching. “You don't think I can see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean’s teeth gritted, and I could practically feel the tension rising.

“He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.”

“You know what?” He chuckled, backing away. “I'm not even going to talk about this-“

“You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it.” Sam growled. “Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded, then punched Sam. I didn’t think; I just felt red hot rage boil up and my hand swung round, slapping some silence into Dean. He just stared at me, holding his jaw.

“Go.” I ordered, furious. “Go to your new best friend Gordon and when you’ve realised that we’ve been telling the truth, you’re come back and say sorry. And you better beg.”

He seemed to regain his pride, gritting his teeth. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.” He left, and I turned to Sam, turning his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s bruising.” He nodded. “Are you okay, though? You seemed to blow up.”

“Yeah, I just thought of Carter.” I nodded. “If anyone touched him, they’d be on the floor in seconds, I don’t care who they are.”

”I didn’t wanna hurt Dean. He’s just blindsided.”

“Luckily I’m here to slap some sense into him, then.”

“But we really do need to convince him.”

“Fine.” We went back into the motel room, where Dean was gathering his stuff.

“Gordon?” Dean called, but there was no Gordon.

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Most likely.”

“Dean, we have to stop him.” I urged.

“Really, Ivonne?” He scoffed, hand moving to his cheek, which was red. Good. “Cause I say we lend a hand.”

“Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe us that.” I paused. “You owe me, Dean.”

“Real good negotiator you are, Ivonne.”

“Careful, or your cheek might turn purple instead of red.” I shot back. “Think about it, Dean.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.” We looked to where the keys were supposed to be, but they were gone.

“He snaked the keys.” Sam whispered. We ran to the car, getting inside through picking the lock.

“I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too.” Dean groaned while hot-wiring his car. ”So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?”

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.” I informed, looking at my own map.

“How do you know?”

“I counted.”

“They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.” Sam mapped out, tracing the path.

“You two are good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Dean grimaced.

We reached the house and went in, and I found both Lenore and Will tied to a chair, weak.

“Sam, Ivonne, Dean. Come on in.” Gordon grinned, holding a small bloody knife.

“Hey, Gordon. What's going on?” Dean asked, looking around.

”Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

“Look, man-“

“Just grab a knife. I was about to start in on the fingers.” He made a cut down Lenore’s arm, and she wheezed weakly in pain. He did the same to Will, who groaned a bit louder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the pain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?”

“I am chill.” Gordon replied coolly.

“Gordon, just put the knife down.” Sam ordered, starting forward, but was stopped by Dean.

“Looks like Sam here needs to chill.”

“Just step away from her, all right?”

“You’re right, I’m wasting my time. These two will never talk. Might as well put them out of their misery.” He pulled out a knife. “Don’t worry, I sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”

”Gordon, I'm letting her go.” Sam frowned, stepping in Gordon’s way.

“You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon seethed, pointing the knife at Sam’s chest.

“Hey, Gordon, let’s talk about this.” Dean protested feebly.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“The hell there is.” I took out my gun from my arm holster, pulling the trigger and hitting Gordon’s knife. It broke in half, the metal clattering to the ground.

Dean stepped in. “That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one...”

“Killed my sister?” Gordon cackled. “That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

“You did what?” I seethed.

”It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you, Dean.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam scoffed. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” He slit Sam’s arm with the jagged knife, and Lenore’s teeth emerged, and she started to hiss and snarl. He pressed it to Sam’s throat, dragging him closer to Lenore.

“Let him go! Now!” Dean ordered, taking out his gun and aiming at Gordon.

”Relax. If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.” The blood from Sam’s cut hit Lenore’s face, making her eyes turn red. “You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.” A tear ran down Will’s face at the sight of Lenore, and my jaw clenched.

“No, no…” Lenore sobbed, regaining control of herself.

“You see that, Gordon?” I snapped, taking the knife away from him and using it to cut Lenore and Will free. He collapsed into my arms, trying to stay upright. I cupped his cheek, his forehead leaning against mine. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“We’re done here.” Sam fumed.

“Sam, Beanie, get ‘em outta here.” I helped Will outside while Sam did Lenore, taking out a cloth and cleaning both of them. I was still holding my gun, and I changed the cartridge, chucking it away.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” He asked.

”I have to.” I nodded. “Dean’s good, but Gordon knows more tricks.”

“Wait.” Will coughed, and then he kissed me gently. “Don’t get hurt. Please.”

“I won’t.” I assured before running inside. Dean flew through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing with a groan. I raised my gun, shooting Gordon in the shoulder, making his body fall back with the shock. His head hit the wall, and he slumped, unconscious.

“Good talk.” I smirked, training it on him.

”You came back?” Dean coughed, getting up.

”Yeah, I’m not leaving you with this sadist.” I picked Gordon up, slamming his head against a doorframe on my way to the chair that Will was previously tied up in. “Oops.” I drawled, dropping him in the chair. Dean tied him up, looking sick with himself.

”All that talk about black and white, but you’re the one who’s tied up.”

We were back at the motel, when we got out, I faced a now recovered Will with a smile.

”Thanks for saving my life.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t owe me one anymore. Kind of wanted an excuse to see you anytime.”

”I want to give you that excuse, really.”

He realised, nodding sadly, but masked it with his winning smile. “You’re leaving.”

”Sadly.” I bit my lip. “I wish we had more time.”

”Yeah, now I have to start another cycle of getting over you.” He joked, but still looked heartbroken.

“Well, I’m gonna make it harder, cause I still have to pay you back.” I grinned.

”Pay me back-“ I grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss that he melted into instantly. His arms wrapped around my waist while mine went around his neck, my head tilting. His hands threaded in my hair-

“HAUN HAUN!” I heard Dean yell. “Mademoiselle et monsieur s’embrassent ! Que puis-je dire, c’est la vie !

“Ivonne et Will, assis dans un arbre!” Sam called. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

We pulled back, laughing. I turned to the boys, kissing my teeth. “You just HAD to say it in French!”

“Yeah!” Dean grinned.

“That was the WORST French I’ve ever heard!”

“Thanks!” Sam snickered.

It was a week since the Gordon incident, and we had returned to my house. I was reading a book on my bed, engrossed in a scene from it simply because the main character was dying and I don’t see that, like, ever.

“IVONNE!” I heard from outside. “HER LADYSHIP IVONNE RAINER OF THE KINGDOM OF NEW JERSEY, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HER CHAMBER WINDOW!” I rolled my eyes, putting down my book.

”What the hell?” I muttered. “What is this person playing at-“ I swept the curtain aside, and almost broke down laughing at who was heckling at my window. “Dean?!”

”Tis I!” He yelled, gesturing dramatically to himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Apologising!” He called back, a goofy grin on his face. “You said I needed to beg!”

”I never meant literally!”

“Too late!”

”Dean-“

”I HEREBY PROCLAIM THAT I, SIR DEAN WHO HAILS FROM THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, WAS A DOUCHEBAG.”

”AND?!”

”AN IDIOT.”

”AND?!”

”A SPINELESS, CORRUPT, HORRIBLE PIECE OF WORK. ANYTHING ELSE?”

”No, sounds like enough slander.” I smirked, gesturing for him to continue. He then got down on one knee, making Sam, who was watching from the other window and recording everything, lose his cool, cackling loudly.

“I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY AB-ABHORRENT BLASSsss…” He turned to Sam. “How d’you say it?”

”Blasphemy.” Sam repeated.

“RIGHT, UH, BLAS-PEMY. I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY ABHORRENT BLAS-PEMY AND I IMPLORE YOU TO COME THITHER AND ACCEPT MY DEAREST APOLOGY.”

“Should I?” I asked Sam, who was losing it.

“I don’t know, this is fun.”

“If I give you a kiss, Dean, will you stop?” I sighed, and he contemplated the situation before nodding. I went downstairs, swiping something from my drawer before meeting him outside.

“Where’s my kiss, milady?” He smirked, standing up. I took his hand and placed something in it: a Hershey’s kiss. He grimaced at me while Sam almost fell out of the window in his mirth. “Ha ha, very funny.”

“Needed to have an excuse to get rid of the last one.” I laughed. “But yeah, I forgive you. Now you need to repeat the act for Sam.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

”SAMUEL! SIR SAMUEL WINCHESTER OF THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HIS CHAMBER WINDOW-“

PREVIOUS | NEXT

#Spotify #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #sam and dean #supernatural #spn masterlist #spn #sam winchester #ivonne rainer #dean winchester x oc #SoundCloud

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l-starlight-l · 1 year

Text

The love of a Hero

Smoke Signals

A/N: listen listen I know it’s been a longggg time since I post but I’ve been busy man. This is the first story in my new mini series!! I’m so excited even tho I’m not so sure how good it’s going to be. I promise I’ll post more! Love ya<3

Description: You’re a new physiologist in the city and you share a smoke break with a mysterious masked man

Warning: smoking, cursing, mental hospital

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

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:reference:

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You are one of the most successful psychologists in the United States. You have helped heal people all over the world. You mainly focus on the people who are more disturbed in the mind. You have been itching to settle down so when you got an invite to work at the renounced Gotham asylum you were over joyed. It was quite obvious they needed more hands since they have been having issues keeping inmates actually in their cells. You knew that this might be a stressful job but you’ve been through worse. Plus you had friends in the city who you could rely on.

On your first day you were immediately thrown into action, seeing the very ill people that filled the hospital. You obviously were not gonna make it through all the new patients on your list but you tried your best. You made introductions with many well know names such as; Pamela Isley, Harvey Dent, Oswald cobble-pot and a few others. One name caught you by surprise, Harleen Quinzel, you had met of her before. You shadowed her when you first got into the business. She was kind to you when others weren’t and seeing her like this now was going to be hard. You put her visit to the end of the day to take some time to prepare.

You had just got out of a session with “the scarecrow” and it had shaken you up. You decide that it was time for a break and some fresh air. You made your way to find a quiet spot to rest. When you pushed open the doors to the back of the building there was no one to be seen. This made you feel alittle better. Smoking was a bad habit that you couldn’t shake but had cut down on. You only feel the urge when you get stress which seems to be happening more and more often. You pat your pockets but they’re empty. A soft panic set in, not that forgetting your pack is life or death but is still a disappointment.

“Are you fucking kidding me” you mutter under your breath. You lean against a wall and close your eyes trying to relax a little before getting back to work. You hear heavy footsteps land right infront of you. The suddenness of the sound surprises you and you jump. When you look up to see who had dropped down you see a very tall and big man. He has dark hair with an unusual white streak in the front and gray-blue eyes that are covered by a thin black mask. You just kinda look at him confused on why he’s there and he just looks at you as if you’re the one who came out of nowhere.

“Um hi, can I help you” you say with a confused attitude.

He looks a bit taken back but opens his mouth to reply “what are you doing here”

“I should be asking you the same question, you’re the big masked man who just came up out of no where” you say now annoyed

“Oh uh sorry, I guess. Usually there’s no one over here” he replies a little embarrassed scratching the back of his head.

“Well I wouldn’t know, it’s my first day” you feel weirdly okay with just giving this stranger unneeded information.

“Oh well, wanna smoke” he says offering me a cigarette, I happily take it. Which in reality is a dumb idea.

“Thank you” you mutter unsure of what to do.

“I haven’t got a light” he pats his pockets. You reach into your lab coat and pull out a lighter. You put your cigarette into your mouth and he does the same. You lean up on your toes to meet the tips together and light them. When you step away and look at the tall man he looks very flustered and you realize that may have been a weird thing to do, getting so close to him without even knowing his name. “So you’re a doctor here” he says breaking the awkwardness.

“Yeah I am, and you’re one of Batman’s boys?” you question unsure since you’re use to super hero’s with a bit more red and blue.

He looks a little surprised and you start to worry you said something wrong. “I guess you could call me that” he says with a kind laugh. You smile at his laugh it makes you feel warm. “You don’t seem like you’re from Gotham” he states like a question.

“Oh um no I’m not, I just moved here last week” you say not wanting to give your whole life story. His phone rings and he reluctantly steps away wanting to finish your conversation. He looks annoyed at whoever’s on the other end and rolls his eyes before hanging up. He puts out his smoke and looks at you.

“see you around, doc” he smiles and then disappears. His smile stays with you, it was warm and genuine. You had no idea who he is but you want to see him again, he made you feel so relaxed. You sigh and put out your cigarette. You have to go finish your shift, you emotionally prepare yourself for your next consult, which you’ve been dreading all day, and walk back into the building.

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#jason todd #red hood #batfam #dc comics #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x fem!reader

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museumgiftshoperaser · 11 months

Text

only bought this dress so you could take it off

(lil Ronance modern AU, neighbors kinda thing)

Robin’s already in pajamas when someone knocks on her door. And by pajamas she means she’s wearing boxers and a bleach stained shirt she stole from Steve. So she’s not exactly thrilled to get up. And why should she anyway? Sunday nights are sacred, especially now that classes started back up. It’s the one night of the week where Steve’s gone for basketball practice and she can watch whatever she wants on the TV in the living room. She loves Steve, platonic soulmates and all that jazz, but she can’t for the life of her get him to enjoy the wonders of competitive cooking shows. Like right now. A woman on the screen tilts a skillet over the fire, cooking a steak to absolute perfection as Robin pops another handful of M&Ms into her mouth. It’s quality entertainment. If she gets up now, she might miss something important. What if that woman overcooks her steak? Maybe if she keeps quiet the person will just go away. “I can hear the TV!” the voice comes through the wall, too muffled to recognize. “I need some help!” And then, after a short silence. “Please?” She rolls herself off the couch with a groan, doesn’t even care if the mystery guest can hear it. She runs a quick hand through her hair to make herself somewhat presentable opens the door and- Oh fuck. It’s her. Nancy. Their new next door neighbor and coincidentally the most beautiful person she’s ever laid eyes on. Robin clutches the doorpost so hard it hurts because her elevator crush is two feet away from her, dressed in deep blue, skintight satin. Nancy’s hair is pinned to the side and she’s holding her strapless dress up at the neckline. “Can you zip me?” she asks with a sheepish grin. “I’m running late and I’m all by myself.” Her heels make them almost the same height, but Nancy is still an inch short, leaving her to look up at Robin through her thick, black lashes. She doesn’t usually wear this much make-up. Wherever she’s going, she’s trying to impress someone. When Robin doesn’t speak, Nancy turns her back, revealing a long stretch of exposed skin. The zipper goes all the way down to her lower back. There’s a little mole next to her spine, which is a thing that Robin knows about her now, and it feels far too intimate. “Uh sure…” she mumbles. “Just… What do you…?” “It’s just a zipper, Robin.” Nancy’s back is turned, but she can hear the grin is her voice. “I’m you can figure it out.” She swallows hard. Nancy knows her name. Of course she does. They’ve talked a handful of times when they happened to enter the lobby at the same time. She came to introduce herself when she moved in last month. Still it’s weird that she takes up any mental real estate for this girl so beautiful it physically hurts. Robin takes the end of the zipper between two careful fingers, but it doesn’t budge. “It’s a bit finicky,” Nancy says and she tilts her head to the side, exposing even more of the bare skin around her neck. “Just give it a good tug.” Fucking hell. Robin places a hand on Nancy’s waist for leverage and zips the dress along the curve of her spine. She’s not wearing a bra, strapless and all, and Robin’s trying really hard not to think about that. “So where are you going?” she asks and then she just keeps talking. “You got a date? A boyfriend?” She clenches her jaw and crosses her fingers that didn’t sound weird. Just polite conversation. Making acquaintance. Right? “Oh, God no.” Nancy turns around and smooths down the fabric over her hips. “I have yet to find a man in this city worth dressing up for.” “Tell me about it,” Robin says in a lame attempt at a joke. Nancy no doubt has different reasons for her lack of interest in the men around these parts. Like being objectively out of everyone’s league. Unlike Robin, who realized she was a lesbian back in middle school and hasn’t looked at a man since. Well, she’s technically looked at Steve, if you wanna get literal about it. But he doesn’t count. That’s practically her brother. “Nah, I’ve got a work thing,” Nancy says and she rolls her eyes. “Office party I can’t really skip.” Robin vaguely remembers an elevator conversation where Nancy told her she worked in publishing. “Well, you look great,” she squeaks. Nancy smiles, showing off the dimples that kickstarted the elevator crush all those weeks ago. “You’re so sweet.” She doesn’t even break eye contact as she says it. Robin can feel her cheeks flush and she mentally prepares herself to scream into her pillow the second this door closes. “Which reminds me,” Nancy adds with a coy smile. “I have a little housewarming coming up next Friday. You and uh…. Steve was it?” Robin nods. “Well, you and Steve are definitely invited.” For a brief moment, Nancy’s eyes flick past her so she can sneak a glance into the living room. “Starts at eight, be sure to ask him too.” Oh. Was that her goal? Was she hoping Steve would answer? That makes sense. “We’d love to,” Robin says with a polite smile. “I’ll tell Steve, I think he’s free that night.” Nancy runs her hands along her sides one more time, smoothing down the already flawless curve of her dress. “That’d be lovely,” she says and before she turns she adds; “Can’t wait.”

#stranger things #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #no clue where this came from #but suddenly it was written #might give it a little sequal at some point #nancy knows what she's doing #i cannot be held responsible for what i write after listening to dress by taylor swift

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stelladess · 4 days

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Spoiler ahead for the CN livestream, so chapter 14 stuff and brief IS5 mention (also anime season 3 confirmed now). Do not keep reading to avoid spoilers. Just some of my early thoughts. Stream of conciousness, not having thought things through much kind of thing. Kind of just rambling. But tl;dr is that I am excited and it looks good to me.

So, they keep using Civilight Etherna to describe "Theresa" and even outright ask "is she really Theresa?" in the live stream, so no its not a full on resurrection... so from a certain point of view, I was right. Her kit seems super good, she a bard also the freebie operator. Since I do not have Skalter this is good news for me. Big buffs, can do true damage... is neat. Logos is... outright busted. His S1 is insanely good AFK skill which can just auto kill weaker enemies who enters his range, not even an attack and his S2 seems fine, his S3 is also insane. Depending on the numbers he might outperform Eyja but we´ll see, that is always the test is it not? Amiya gets to be an incantation medic, with an outright busted talent (passive health regen on skill, off and on skill gives max HP boosts, this applies to all operators for both it seems?) and a pretty good looking S1 (attacks two enemies, bonus damage) and an amazing S2 with a big burst of damage at first, then slow and true damage with targeting two enemies and.... once per mission... again. Its... fine, I´m not salty.... Anyway, the big star, is limited (I had hoped she would be freebie since her original was limited but oh well) Walter.... or, W has now picked a name for herself, we will have to learn the context in chapter 14, Wis´adel (she has a different S but my keyboard lacks it, it is pronouched as a "sh" sound though). Wis´adel is a flinger sniper who makes all other flingers irelevant and is absolutely busted. Because I am a big W fan (depending on the day it is either her or Kal´tsit who is my second favorite operator) and flingers were in a really bad spot I am kind of ok with this but I still prefer they do not just blatantly directly power creep operators or go too far on insane damage numbers. Her damage seems... a bit too high in my opinion, but because I love her as a character and am excited for her story going forward and her kit seems fun, just really overtuned, I will be pulling. And I guess Degenbrecher and Mlynar already brought us up to this insane damage level so I should not be surprised. Power creep is something I have kept up in many many games I play and there are times where a later power crept state was my favorite period of the game so I will not go and get too hung up on the power creep. Also, I was right to take notice of the floating black crown parts I think cause it is even more prominent now. Bunch of story related stuff here but I wanna wait with talking about that until I have sorted my thoughts and maybe even read chapter 14. On that note, story for chapter 14 has me INCREDIBLY hyped. 13 was my favorite chapter, dethroning chapter 8. And I really wanna know what they are cooking next! Also IS5 has a Kal´tsit boss... she wields a sword!!!! (There are some interesting stuff about Kal and weapons that comes up occasionally, this is in the past it seems so maybe we find out what the deal is?)

I do think its a kind of bad decision to make IS5 sarkaz themed though, I like the sarkaz stuff but I feel IS is best used for parts of the world not explored in as much depth elsewhere. (I think it works with IS3 doing something explored a lot elsewhere but I kinda do not want them to keep doing that). But back to positive stuff the character designs are great. Wis´adel design has really grown on me, I think its a huge downgrade from what she wore before but it feels like it fits her so I am fine with that. Amiya has improved her fashion sense, at first I was sad at no more big coat/cape but that turned out to just be cause the blurry art... she went for a long coat instead of big coat that was actually a normal coat but just too big for her. So it still is something actually made to fit her but still retains the big coat look to some extent. Civilight Etherna boobs seem bigger then Theresa´s(?) Is it to contain the myriad souls? Deep lore implications about this at least! Logos uniform is good but like, so are all Rhodes uniforms. I do not feel it is exceptionally good for a Rhodes uniform but it suits him. Oh and also we see Wis´adel studying in one of the PVs, Hoederer must be so proud she is finally taking her education seriously~! Lastly on addressing the name situation... I will keep using W until chapter 14 is out on global to avoid spoiling people, after that I will probably switch to using her new name. Names are a very important thing especially when you pick them yourself.

#arknights #ak cn spoilers #cn spoilers

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s1ater · 11 months

Text

death era.

part eight of n/a.

ricky rocks. flash back episode !!!

“everyone needs to just shut up,” echo doesn’t look at any of them and yet her eyes are wild and unable to stay in one place. “we have to figure a way out of here.”

she can feel her heart in her throat upon the dawning reality that she had no plan and half the people in the room with her were a bunch of dimwits.

“that’s kinda a hard thing to do when you told us to shut up.”

“keep your comments to yourself before i take that gun back, john.”

murphy rolls his eyes at the sound of his name; at the sound of the way she says it. it’s always so hostile and harsh whenever it comes out of her mouth and it only makes him hate it more.

it reminds him of the way his mother used to say it.

“why don’t we just leave, simple as that?”

“we can’t just do that, murphy. there are still other people here,” raven still sits on the floor, watching the two.

“yeah, people that are probably already dead and if not, who do you think the ones that are gonna get killed going to be when we come to their rescue?”

“that’s so classic of you, murphy.”

“what do you suggest we do then?” he turns his chin fast to face octavia who gives him an irritated look.

wow, wasn’t he just a crowd pleaser today.

“we wait till bellamy wakes up.”

“bellamy?” murphy looks disgusted, glancing down to him and his peaceful state in octavia’s lap. “i like him much better knocked out.”

“we don’t have time for that… or this,” echo shakes her head, interrupting the nasty stare octavia gave that would ultimately lead to an argument. “you better hope he wakes up soon because i’m not carrying him.”

“maybe if you didn’t hit him so damn hard.”

“hey, shut it, murphy. otherwise you’ll be right with your pal, bellamy.”

he grumbles, turning his shoulder away from them, “what’re you looking at?” his eyes suddenly meet the face of a boy he had never notice up until now.

the skinny boy with black hair was quick to put his hands up in defense, scooting further away from the menacing stare murphy continued to force in on him.

“that’s what i thought, string bean.”

this was the least ideal situation to be in with the least ideal group to be together. outside of this moment, not one of them would have willingly step foot to be among one another.

although the base was big but filled with a small amount of people, their worlds barely ever collided.

“alright, what do you wanna do echo?”

she blinks, looking down to raven who looks like a little kid with her legs crossed. she feels her chest swell up with importance at the undivided attention and suddenly a drive of adrenaline flows through her veins once again.

echo hated everyone. it was easy to tell. her parents died at her ripe age of 7 where she was handed off to a strict military woman who beat her own values of no remorse, empathy, or emotion into her. that woman died the moment the virus took over the base and echo couldn’t have been more happy—until they didn’t let her leave.

no one was allowed to leave, for their own good as they would say. the remaining adults of the base had an idea that they could repopulate and help rid of the disease that turned the dead into living once more. but here they were, the remaining adults being what they feared and echo being in a room of people she hated—except raven. now, she could stand raven.

“i’m all ears. whatever you need me to do, i’ll do.”

echo smiles, yeah, she didn’t mind her at all. raven was the only one with a couple brain cells who could function.

“try to wake boy toy up, then let’s kill the rest of these fuckers.”

it didn’t take much to wake bellamy up, but it took a lot to calm him down.

“why would i trust you?”

“because i’m the one with the gun,” her teeth shine past her lips in a snide look at his clear upset state.

it only provoked him more, taking a step closer, but echo is far from fazed. she knew bellamy and the type of person he was, therefore she felt far from inferior when around him like she knew he was trying to do.

before the fall, echo spent her whole first year in basic combat training with him due to him shadowing the instructor. he was a douchebag who thrived on proving his superiority over the younger trainees, including echo.

“bellamy, just listen to her,” octavia forced herself into his peripheral vision, hoping he’d step away from her. “we have no other options and echo knows what she’s doing.”

“and i don’t?”

“you seem to have forgotten she had you out cold moments ago, buddy.”

“murphy, i’ll kill you.”

“woah, woah, woah,” mock marinates in his voice. “she’s the one with the gun, don’t think she’ll let that happen.”

“i wouldn’t be against it.”

civility was hard to achieve, especially in the beginning.

“will you all just calm down,” raven stands a foot back with her arms crossed. “if we want to get out of here, we need to execute now. the breakers are all the way on the other side of the building and who knows how many scavs are outside this door.”

it took five minutes for raven to come up with a plan to get out and that was through the breakers—the security and maintenance room, where everything was watched through cameras and where the switches to shut down all the power was. in order to leave, all the security monitors, locked doors, and ultimately the big gate at the front of the base that kept all of them in was all electrically ran and needed to be shut down.

so to get out, shit needed to be shut down.

bellamy finally breaks away from echo, turning his gaze to the other girl, “how do you expect to do that with the millions of doors that you all need a pin to, leading to that room?”

“it’s not hard,” a voice sounds from behind them all, causing them to turn. “if you break the panel and move one wire to another, the door opens just as easy as if you were to know the pin.”

they stare at him blankly in surprise as raven tries her best to conceal her smile, already anticipating this. the boy swallows nervously at the pressure of their uninviting stares suddenly on him, “it’s easy. a 10 year old could do it.”

bellamy narrows his look on him even more, “what’s your name?”

“monty. monty green,” he takes a step closer, almost expecting to shake his hand—but bellamy’s hostile stare made him rock back on his feet.

“and then after that, monty? the only people who had access to the breaker room were ones with a key card.”

“good thing i’m in charge then.”

they all turn back to echo who holds out a white and green plastic key card in all its glory.

“how the hell did you get a key card? sargent wouldn’t even clear you for a gun,” murphy narrows his gaze on her with confusion, slowly stepping forward.

“they don’t even hand those out to guards.”

“well, good thing i’m better than a guard,” she smirks, stuffing it in her back pocket. “now let’s go.”

the hallways were eerily empty.

echo had her mask pulled back up to the base of her face where only her dark eyes were the most distinguishable feature to the others. she scanned the little space that filled the area, leading the group down what seemed to be the hallway to their doom.

she didn’t like it one bit.

moments before she had knocked bellamy unconscious, she had watched the scavs from the watch tower take over every little home and minor building, burning them to the ground after ransacking each one. they would have no where else to be but the inside of this building—and yet, no one in sight.

“this doesn’t feel right.”

“what, you scared?”

murphy doesn’t reply.

“maybe they just all left.”

“that’s wishful thinking,” echo’s low voice sounds hollow as she leads them around a corner and toward the entrance where authorized staff only was printed largely on a sign nailed to the surface of the doors. she gripped her rifle tighter and tighter as seconds passed by with no sound, no movement, and no person was in sight.

bellamy followed from the back with his own gun that echo was reluctant about giving him until he reminded her he was their best shot.

the silence was a blessing. there were nights where bellamy longed for this type of stillness, for the break down of his up tight lifestyle. and now here it was, handed to him in his lap, yet something was off and this felt even worse compared to the norm.

“already, green, time to shine,” echo dropped her gun from position as well as pulling down the cloth that concealed her face. she glanced to bellamy, sharing a look of agreement that they were still in the clear. “get this door open and you’re golden.”

he nodded, dropping to his knees before the pin pad that was placed neatly next to the steel door. they watch him pop the cover off simply before once again pulling another layer that concealed the wiring to the door. he rips at the nest of colorful snakes before glancing at them all, smiling at their narrowed looks.

“i used to watch my dad do this all the time as a kid, wanted to be just like him. so while you all were sent to train and beat your bodies down, i was taught this,” he works as he speaks before finally pulling away and looking to the door. they follow his gaze but are met with disappointment when there’s no sign of acceptance to his fiddling.

monty makes a sound of confusion, a crease forming between his brow as he looks at the door, then the mangled key pad.

“i’m guessing that’s not supposed to happen.”

“what clued you on to that?”

“they must have changed their wiring in the past month, otherwise i don’t understand why this wouldn’t have worked,” he still stares at his work, disappointed.

“so… we can’t get in?” bellamy is losing patience.

“no, we can. it’ll just take me a lot longer.”

“how much longer?”

“say, 7 minutes.”

“christ,” bellamy pinches the bridge of his nose. “we don’t have that time.”

“we actually don’t know what time we do have… considering-“

“murphy, shut the fuck up. i’m not waiting that long, i’ll find another way.”

“bellamy, you can’t just-“

he’s right back around the corner and toward where they came from with no attempt to listen to their persistence. he was impatient and itching to get out of that building. if he didn’t find a way soon, he would lose his mind.

these hallways with florescent lights were the center of his nightmares. he found himself lost in what was an exact replica of it, wandering and desperate to get out. just like right now.

he grew up in these halls. every waking moment of his life were spent within these halls of the base. he hated it. he wished the scavs would have burned down this building first.

“don’t move.”

there was a nose of a gun suddenly practically pressed to bellamy’s own nose. he jerked back out of shock, neglecting to process who was on the other side of the rifle till he found himself pinned.

“who are you? why’re you here?”

bellamy’s eyes find theirs before anything else till the question is repeated again, “huh? who the fuck are you?”

a girl.

he finds himself slowly lower his arms upon realization, “who’re you?”

“your worst fuckin’ nightmare if you don’t give me a straight answer.”

he recognized this girl.

“relax, i’m just trying to get out of here.”

“hard thing to do when the gates won’t open.”

“you’re trying to get to the breakers,” he speaks his thoughts aloud.

her eyes narrow, “why would you know that?”

“because you’re not the only one trying to escape.”

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter r @cc13723things @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @kayalect @strnqer @mystic-writings @moonlighy @straightzoinked @thelaststraw3 @alexxavicry @esposadomd @lupinsluvbot

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kookblurx · 8 months

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1920 - jjk [ chpt 3. ]

→ SUMMARY: a photo of a beautiful smiling boy; an old tree in your grandparents garden ... and a feeling of sadness. all those things are connected to each other ...

→ GENRE: time travel au; changing fate au; rencarnation au; university au; death; sickness; historical setting; trigger topics; smut; dirty talk; switching between present and the past.

→ chapter 2 / chapt. 4

→ RATING: 18+

→ NOTE: thank you for blowing up the first chapter with so many reblogs and welcome to all new followers. also if there are any creative people among us, feel free to design a header for this story. i will try to include every pic in the next chapters + linking your account. ( no must! ). Also please enjoy the second chapter <3 DISCLAIMER; this is a piece of art, not many events will be historically correctly.

BTS MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎˊ PLAYLIST FOR THIS CHAPTER

The Present:

as you ran back into the mansion you neary stumbled over one of the cats who frequently visit this place.

"sorry little one" you spitted out breathless before you climbed up the stairs.

you needed to get to your laptop before your grandparents noticed that you are back inside again. this might be your vacation but your grandma loved to give you tasks whenever she saw you around. inside your room you immediately locked the door behind you; something which was unacceptable in this house but now you didnt cared. with shaking hands you started the black notebook on your bed. it wasnt the newest one but it was doing its job during university. to your displeasure it took ages for it to boot up, at least you had some time to change into a set of clean clothes. as you got back to the laptop it was finally up and ready to go. the first thing you googled was " the berserker" plus the year he lived in. of course there were a few matches to the search but none of it was a reliable source. the most things which came up were forums where people shared the rumours and myths from back then. here and there jungkook's name popped up, followed by people asking who he was. one of those bloggers seemed kinda hurt about the lack of knowledge those people had. maybe he was the key to this mystery. you clicked on his username, determined to sent this "chimchim" person an email. your email was short, its content were a simple sentence:

"i know who jungkook was. could you please answer me some questions?"

while you waited for an answer you got back to google. there you putted jungkook's full name in and voila, a lot of sources popped up. even history blogs same as newsletters wrote about him. none of them metioned that he was a war hero. something was off for sure. none of those articles mentioned what had happened to him, only that he "allegedly died in 1920. not how or why he died on that specific spot. at the same time someone added you in the chatrooms which were open on your laptop. taking a quick glance presented you the username "chimchim" on the screen. hesitant if you should answer him right away you clicked on the log in button.

chimchim:hey, just saw your email. what do you wanna know? blueberry: this mind sound weird. but i found this pic in my grandparents mansion [ inserts the pic ]. i found out its about a .. jungkook guy. chimchim: holy crap. do you realize how much this pic is worth it?! blueberry: i dont care. you seem to know a lot about him so .. can you answer me so questions? chimchim: fine, what do you wanna know? blueberry: why does none of the newssites ever mention that he was a war hero? chimchim: shit, you know about that? i only heard some rumours. probably has something to do with his family. they took it down that they had a famous ancestor. blueberry: but why? chimchim: i dont know. im sure they are hiding something. blueberry: hiding something? why would someone want to hide such a accomplishement? chimchim: exactly. blueberry: you .. dont happen to know how he died or what happened to him? chimchim: there are rumours but no one is certain about that. blueberry: what are those rumours? chimchim: the one that keeps popping up is that he got betrayed by his own people. no one knows if it was his lover, best friend or his own parents. but he didnt died because of a war. blueberry: betrayed you say ... chimchim: hey, if your grandparents had this pic, they surely have more infos in their house. i need to go. i will try to dig up some more. bye!

with those words chimchim logged off. maybe he was right, there must be something in your grandparents library .. but before you went there again you got back to google. chimchim mentioned a lover, there must be something about her on the internet. after 10 minuted you finally found another blog full of history nerds who talked about her.

"lets see ..."

you clicked on the "more" button on one of the blog entries. apperently the berserk was in love with a commoner, a normal girl from another village. but as everything else in his life, this was just another rumour. no one exactly knew who she was or where she came from. the only certain thing everyone knew that she popped up out of nowhere. weird, how can someone appear out of nowhere? as you read more of the blog the whole situation became weirder and weirder. the girl seemed to dissapear here and there and didnt came back for days. as you wanted to give up, a comment catched your attention. someone wrote about her name, her alleged name. you read through the whole comment but as soon as you reached the part with her name, your vision became blurry. frantically you rubbed your eyes with both hands but it didnt helped. suddenly the screen turned brighter, so bright that it hurted your eyes. you closed your eyes shut, hoping it would stop. thats something your laptop never did before; as you reached out your hand to press the buttons, your fingertips touched the soft fabric of the bedsheets. were you going insane? your laptop was right there.

slowly you opened your eyes, first you didnt noticed any major chances but then ... as soon as your eyes fully adjusted to the change of light, you nearly fell down from the bed. this wasnt your bedroom.

The Past:

"not again ..."

thanks to the furniture it didnt took you long to realize where you were right now. somehow you travelled back in time, again. suddenly you remebered the words of the fairy about trigger points and places. a sigh escaped your mouth, so you really managed to trigger another puzzle piece of the past. something which includes the name of the mysterious lady in jungkook's life. leaning back on your hands, the fingertips of your left hands bumped into something. your whole body froze. this cant be right? slowly you turned your head to the side. underneath the red fabric of the blanket .. there was someone, breathing. peacfully asleep as it seemed. from here you couldnt see who it was and you didnt cared first. slowly you scooted away from the warm body as slowly as you could. at the same time your right hand slipped, sending you flying onto the ground.

your ellbow hit the hard wodden floor, making you whine in pain. were floors always this hard in the past? you bit down on your bottom lip while holding your ellbow, making sure to not make another sound. the person underneath the blanket started to shift more as a grunt was heard. you were so busy tending to your hurting ellbow that you didnt noticed how the person sat up on the bed. it really hurted like hell as you prayed that you didnt broke it.

"... oh -... oh my god are you okay?!"

with a painful expression you finally looked up to the bed. there he was, shirtless. jeon jungkook. instead of getting mad and screaming at you, he threw the blanket away. as he did that before getting down from the bed, your face turned into a tomato. he wasnt only shirtless, he was completely naked.

"w-wait! stop!" with your other hand you started to cover your face. "but .. you hurted yourself! let me see your ellbow" jungkook on the other hand seemed totally unfazed by the fact that he was naked.

out of nowhere your heart started to race as you still covered your eyes. this was too embarrassing. you knew how a naked men looked like, of course you do. you are not a child anymore but this man was a total stranger. someone you only saw once. on top of that, realistically speaking, he was already dead in your timeline. shutting your eyes close, you reached out with your hand. pressing against his chest to keep him away from you.

"dont be like that! let me see if its broken!" jungkook complained while trying to press forward. "c-can you please, for god's sake, wear some clothes!"

jungkook stopped in his movements as he finally saw how red your face was. a sigh escaped his lips, the next thing you heard were his footsteps. another noise you couldnt assign to an item inside the room. then again, he was right in front of you, this time you opened your eyes slowly, only to be met with his bare chest. at least he was wearing some pants now.

"can i see it now?" his voice grew more impatient, so you just nodded holding your ellbow into his direction.

jungkooks fingertips were soft on your skin as he looked at your ellbow. by now it had turned slightly red but the pain was still prominent. this changed as you finally looked into jungkook's face. the last time you got here you werent able to see it so close in front of you. he might be a war hero but his facial expressions were kinda soft; an indication that he didnt got corrupted by all the wars he went to. on his cheek was a scar, kinda deep somehow it suited him. his dark lock fell into his face, framing it oh so gently. the first urge which befell you was to touch it. to run your fingers through it while he tended to your ellbow. your eyes travalled further down to his chest. it was defined but not too muscular, further down you could see a hint of a sixpack. at the same time you really hoped he didnt heard your loud gulp as you saw how his biceps kept flexing while examining ellbow.

"seems fine to me ... maybe we should bring you over to one of the doctors just to be - ..." jungkook lifted his head were he noticed how close you two were to each other.

you kept looking into his eyes and suddenly your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. bubbles of happieness rised up inside of your stomach as at the same time your hands became sweaty. what was this feeling? even jungkook seemed to be distracted by something as he kept staring at you. the grip on your ellbow grew more tightly, normally it would hurt but you didnt felt it. you only felt his soft fingertips on your hot skin. time suddenly stopped existing around the two of you as jungkook leaned in more closely. for the first time you noticed his scent. he smelled like soap, like the woods after a rain fall and like lavender in the morning.

"i ... thank you, really" your mouth felt dry as you finally spoke up. jungkook on the other hand didnt spoke a word, he only nodded in response. "you can ... let go if me now" at the same time your heart told you that he shouldnt.

to your suprise he actually did let go, stood up and turned his back towards you. god, even his back was muscular with his broad shoulders. why does such guys doesnt exist in your timeline? your legs were a bit shaky as you stood up, watching him as he putted on a white shirt from the closet. it fitted him perfectly and flattered his muscles in every way. jungkook's waist was so small and thin, it would be so easy to wrap your arms around it. the moment you took a step forward the door sprung open. a breathless jimin was seen

"jungkook, its serious. we need your help!"

jimin completely ignored your presence as jungkook walked past you "what is it" "t-the ironbloods, they are attacking the village again!" "... alright, go and grab my sword. we will set out immediately" for a short second jungkook looked over his shoulder into your direction.

this wasnt good. maybe he was killed there? you needed to stop him. immediately you strechted out your hand, stumbling forward.

"wait! y-you cant-!"

the door closed and at the same time your hand went right through it. your whole body straight went through the door before crashing onto your bedroom floor. the pain in your head was unbearable as you tried to sit up. both of your hands formed into fists.

"why now?! how can i save him like this?! why did you brought me back now!" you screamed into your empty room, hoping your fairy would answer you. there was nothing, nothing but silence.

taglist:

@junecat18 @hellbornsworld

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strangerthingsn · 10 months

Text

Best metaldad ever🦇

Eddiexreader

a/n:Heyy!! This is my first story I ever wrote sooo I hope you like it. I’m kinda nervous to post it tbh.. You can leave tips or maybe request something 🖤 Summary: you and Eddie were two years together before finding out you’re pregnant. You bought a trailer together where little Izzy can grow up. This is just a night of Eddie coming home from work and taking care of his baby girl!

It was Friday night if you sat on the couch watching boring baby series on the tv but you didn’t mind aslong Izzy liked it, you’re the happiest. You waited for Eddie to come home from his work, with Izzy cause if she can’t have a kiss from daddy before going to bed, she simply can’t sleep.

Since your highschool boyfriend got you pregnant . You two bought an own trailer on the trailer park. It was not a big house ofcourse but you didn’t mind you thought trailers have a good vibe.You were together for two years before you found out about being pregnant. As the baby girl was born Eddie named her Izzy (like the guitarist in guns n’ roses) he bet she’s gonna be a rockstar when she’s older, because he wil teach her play guitar. Now 5 months after the birth you waited for Eddie to come home from his work, he works 8 hours as a tattoo artist every day except Sunday. All the money he get is just enough to live from. But you promised soon as Izzy is older you will join him as a tattoo artist. Izzy had not much family just Eddies uncle, since your parents live in Spain where you were born too.You came in Hawkins to live with your aunt because you and your parents didn’t go together well… But Izzy is a happy girl that loves her parents!

As Izzy is half asleep she scared awake from the sound of the door.

“Hello sexy mamas” Eddie walks over to you and places a kiss on your forehead.

”hey dadas” You smile as Izzy pulled his curls. You noticed

“I think you forget anyone”you giggled.

“Can’t i just give your mommy a kiss?” he smiles while picking her up

“hey little rockstar” he placed a kiss on her lips.

“Wanna play guitar with daddy?”he asks while walking to the room you share with him. He gets his guitar carefully and walks back to you and sits next to you on the couch.

“Let’s put you on the ground”he sets her between his legs and she holds on his black jeans. You look at them and smiles, it surprises you all the time how good dad he is.

“Let’s play a sweet song for you cause it’s almost bed time” he says while tuning his guitar a little. You don’t know what to say and just watch them. He starts playing November rain he know it’s your favorite song. You look at him as he looks at you. He smiles and looks back at Izzy. He starts singing a little. He plays good. He is absolutely talented and you always love the little shows he has with corroded coffin. You mostly bring Izzy too if it’s not to late. Izzy is just a mini Eddie she has his puppy eyes and brown curls. The only thing she got from you is her nose and body, anddd maybe your ADHD.. puts she was just a perfect child. Eddie finished the song and gets her on his lap. As always she plays with the strings. Eddie leans back and watches her. He kisses her head and rubs her back, as he noticed her pink onesie with bats on it. He chuckles.

“It’s cool right, I found it at the mall”.you smile.

“Yea..it’s just…pink..” he looks it it. The reaction made you laughs because it was exactly what you expected.

“Well atleast they are bats on it”you looked at him.

“Yes that’s true, and maybe she likes.. pink?” You nod and lay your head on his shoulder. Izzy looks down at the ground and makes some sounds to let you notice she wants to crawl on the ground. Eddie puts her on the ground.

“There you go princess”. She crawls on the ground. Eddie and you watches her.

“Isn’t that adorable?” You smile

“she is adorable” after 10 minutes crawling she lays down on the ground.Eddie gets up and gets her from the ground

”I think it’s bed time for you”he looks at you trying to get your response.

“Yeah she looks kinda tired” you say after noticing it. Izzy grabs a piece plastic that was wrapped around Eddies arm before you noticed it was there.

”careful it’s still healing princess”he says while taking her hand.

“Oeeeeh what’s that Ed’s?”this is not the first time he comes home with a tattoo without telling you about getting one.

“This is Izzy her name since I have your name on my chest i tough Izzy deserves it too”he says proud. You giggle

“that’s cute”. Izzy in meanwhile is searching for something with her hands on Eddies chest.

“When is the last time you feed her?”he asks while watching her.

“Like two hours ago, she might be hungry now” you say while already taking your shirt off.

“Mhm..” Eddie helps with your bra. Eddie gives Izzy to you and it didn’t take long before she found your breast and started drinking. Eddie puts his stuff down in the messy table and goes to the bathroom. He always gives you some kind of privacy while you feeding her.

“Wait with laying her on bed i wanna help”he says while turning the shower on and undress himself.

“You don’t have to help with that”you look behind you to the bathroom.

“But I want to”he looks at you from behind the wall. You stick your tongue out, and he does the same before he’s in the shower and you can’t see him anymore.

As Izzy is full, you put your shirt on and walks to the bathroom. You put her on the counter and cleans her face with a soft wipe what she absolutely loves. The tired brown eyes of her looking into yours. You make a silly face and she started giggling.

“What’s so funny” Eddie gets out of the shower.

“Apparently my silly face”you giggle too. Eddie puts a towel around his waist and hugs you from behind. He lays his head on your shoulder and looks over at Izzy. You always loved it when he hugs you from behind and he just randomly does it.

“Mama is pretty funny huh?”he says while smiling at her.

“And she’s pretty, creative, carring and…. sexy” he smacks your ass.

“Eddieeeee”you say while you grab his hand.

“Your dad is a tease” Izzy giggles. You pick her up and walks to her room. The room was not that big as the room Eddie and you share but it was fine for a kid. The wall was Red and there where was hanging a hellfire banger above her black wooden bed. She had a little bat plushy what was absolutely her favorite. She had some other toys in her room and there where some little posters hanging. You lay her in bed and puts the blanket over her. Eddie who only had his pyjama pants on pushes you away.

“I told you to wait I wanna do itttt” he says while giving her her bat plushy. You almost came against the wall but saved yourself with your elbow. He can be a little rough sometimes but you’re used to that.

“Wow that was kinda rude Eddie Munson” you say a little frustrated.

“I just love her. y/n Munson”he says smirking.

“You know that’s not my name”you lean against the wall.

“It will be in the future” he gives Izzy a kiss and gets away from he little bed to make place for you. You give her also a kiss and turn the light off as her eyes flutter shut.

while you walk to your room Eddie noticed your elbow was a little red.

“Sorry did I hurt you”he asks while taking your arm.

“Yes you did and now I’m really mad” you pushed him on the bed and hits him with a pillow. When Eddie sees the look on your face he knows you aren’t. You open the nightstand and gets a cigarette and a joint out of it. Eddie tries to be a good dad but he simply can’t without his joints. When you give it to him he takes it.

“Lighter?”he looks at you.

“Impatient annoying freak that you are.”you tease. You give the lighter after lightning your cigarette. Eddie lights his joint and pulls you on him. You smile and lay on him. He puts his hand in your shirt and grabs your tit. You gasp a little but let him. You guys smoke and as you finished you take you pants off and lays down on your side.

“You’re so hot you know that” Eddie says while smoking his thirth joint.

“You so high you know that?” You tease him as you lay down. He wraps his arm around you and puts his joint out throwing it away. He kisses you and you pull away.

“You taste horrible” you laugh a little.

“I’ll brush my teeth first princess” he gets up to brush his teeth. You guys had always pretty much make out sessions every day sometimes you guys end up naked having sex, but some times it just stayed with kissing. You didn’t mind you guys where three years together now and still not bored of eacother. You loved Eddie so much and you weren’t really shocked at the news you where pregnant. Actually you where happy! You loved kids and having a kid with Eddie was a dream.

Eddie lays down again and looks at you with his sweet darkbrown eyes.

“Take your shirt off”he tells you.

”I have no bra on” you look at him.

“ I know and it’s even better anyways” you smirk while taking it off. Eddie starts kissing your neck, somehow he always know to make you feel good. And he loves to do it. He leaves hickeys and a little moan escaped your mouth. He gets carefully ontop off you putting just a little weight on you. You didn’t mind, if he putted all his weight on you it wasn’t much anyways. He goes from your neck to your chest and kisses your tits. You look down at him. He has his eyes closed, you wasn’t sure who enjoys it more but you loved it. He kisses down your stomach and up again. After 30 minutes you pulled him away.

“Hm?” He looks up at you.

“I wanna cuddle” you smile and kiss him. He kisses back while laying next to you again. He pulls away and cuddles you. You loved Eddies cuddles and it was even better if Izzy was also in the cuddle. You goes with your nails over his tattooed chest but softly so it feels good. He likes it, you know he does. You lay there for a while. You look at the clock and see the time.

“You need to work tomorrow” you look at him.

“I knowww, should we sleep?” He looks back at you.

“Yes I need to be early always too, to feed Izzy” Eddie nods and gives you a pec.

“Good night Darling”he goes with his hand over your cheek.

“Good night sweetheart”you say. You both fell asleep cuddling.

I posed this photos earlier but I like to add them to this story again <3

#eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #pregnant #baby #80s #stranger things #eddie the freak munson

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sweet-honey-tears · 1 year

Text

🪶Nice to Meet You☕️

Hawks x GN!Reader - FLUFF

How did you and Hawks meet?

PLEASE READ: Story does talk about how the five sense (touch,taste,sight,smell, hearing) can be over stimulating. I by no means mean to offend or anger anybody if I inaccurately represent this. I’m not to well informed of this subject so I’m always open to learning more if anyone wants to reach out🤍

Sasha is not a actual character FWI- don’t wanna confuse anyone

Readers Quirk: Sensory- Subjects five sense (touch,taste,sight,smell, hearing) are enhanced. One’s sense are always slightly enhanced, but subject can choose which one. In moments of intense stress, all sense could possibly be at peak performance due to the flight or fight response within the human body.

Warning: Swearing, Slightly subjective themes but only in one line.

He met you at one of those 24 coffee shops. This one was a smaller business one though, with only a few people working at a time.

Working at 3 am did wonders for your mind, so you honestly didn’t even think anything of it when a man dressed in a black hoodie(hood up) with a pair of red wings walked in. His fingers made quick work to pull his hood down and comb through blonde hair. A medical mask on.

“Hi welcome to CaffineLine, what can I get for you tonight.” You had smiled sweetly, your voice light. When your iris caught golden ones, you hummed quietly to yourself. You couldn’t deny it, the man was rather handsome. With tan skin and warm honey hair. But this job has taught you a lot about people. Looks be damned, people can be awful and you’re not about to be creepily-flirted with or threatened.

The man chuckled a bit at your sleepy welcome. “Late night, huh?” He questioned.

“You have no idea.” You smiled, palms pressing into the counter. So far so good, seems like another friendly customer. “But hey, I get discounted coffee so it helps.” You smiled, pushing off slightly.

“Oh? Do you have a favorite you’d recommend?” The man smiled, giving you a rather handsome grin. ( he found it funny, you still had not recognized him. I mean the store even had a drink named after him- after a couple of popular heroes)

You hummed lowly, thinking over certain options. “I the Chickadee”

“The Chickadee? What’s in that?”

“Oh, it’s like a spring drink.” You say before continuing after a pause. “Which tells you nothing about it.” You laugh lightly, putting a hand on your forehead.

“No no, it’s fine. It’s late, I'm not blaming you- I can barely remember where I parked right now.” A joke, considering his wings but it seemed to go over your head.

“ So it's kinda like a chocolate, coconut, caramel iced coffee with added whip cream if you want.”

“Sounds good I’ll take that”

“Alrighty! Can I have a name for the cup- ah I don’t need that.” You laughed a bit, realizing it was only him. No one would accidentally grab his drink.

“No, it’s fine, my name is Hawks.”

“Alrighty” you scribbled his name on the cup.

Hawks watched you dance around, getting his drink ready. “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d the name come from?”

“Ah well, I actually came up with the name Chickadee.” You beamed over your shoulder. “I thought it sounded really cute and the drink is popular around little kids since it tastes like a Girl Scout cookie.” He watched you top it with whip cream and caramel. “And because it’s bird related, kids relate it to the pro hero Hawks- and can be persuaded to get this one instead of that one.” You gestured your head to the hero list of drinks. The ‘HAWKS’ one in bright red lettering.

“Why persuade them?”

“It has Red Bull in it, so I try to steer really little kids to our Chickadee. Less trouble on the parents” You joked cheerfully, handing him his drink. In that split transaction, he watched it click. The way your eyes so slightly widened, as you took in his face and wings. Your mouth opens slightly, before turning upwards into that smile you had when he first walked in. “The wings really should have given it away, huh”

“They usually do, but I appreciate the normal interaction.”

“Well, I try.” You smiled, hands back on the counter. “That’ll be 3.46.”

Hawks smiled a real bright one. No special treatment. He handed you a ten and stuffed a twenty in the tip jar.

“See you around Chickadee,” he said, lifting his drink as a goodbye salute before taking a sip. “Wow, that is good.” He whispered leaving.

->-----////-----<-

“Hey there Chickadee”

“Hi, there Big Bird”

Hawks paused for a moment before snorting, “Big Bird?”

You shrugged and smiled at him, “Seems fitting but I don’t think it’ll stick” you teased.

“Hm, maybe not.” He hummed, walking up to the counter. He was in a black leather jacket, his medical mask hanging off his ear.

“How was patrol?” You asked, moving around the small kitchen to warm up a sandwich.

“I mean I talked with the angriest kid alive”

“I saw that.” You gestured to the TV in the corner. “ A little gremlin isn't he?” you joked. It’s caused Hawks to chuckle slight. You Put both a warm sandwich and a steaming drink in front of him.

“New?”

“Yeah, steamed milk with cinnamon and cardamom. The owner's son came up with it. The sweetest little boy I’ve ever met.” You smiled.

Hawk's face flushed slightly at the sweet look on your face.

“Sounds great.”

->-----////-----<-

“Hey Chickadee, are your socks on inside out,” Hawks questioned. He was sitting across from you behind the counter. His feathers moved around, maneuvering to help you pick-up. Since you refused to have him actually help you- but that doesn’t stop his feathers.

You paused, the rag in your hand stilled as you looked down at your feet. Your work shoes were stained with coffee and whatever else.

“Yeah, they are. My quirk is Sensory.” You turn to him, giving a sad smile “It means my five senses are enhanced and it’s sometimes-.” He watches that smile drop slightly, your eyes back on your feet. He can see you wiggle your toes, and the cringe on your face. “-can be overstimulating,” There was a moment of silence, Hawks searching for the right words to say. “But, I mean I can have super smell and sight, so that’s cool. But on days like this, I just go with touch or taste. It’s easier than overwhelming coffee, or ringing from doors.” You rocked back and forth on your heels before you picked the rag back up.

->-----////-----<-

“Ack!” Your ice drink fell on the counter, the bright colors spilling over. The dried fruits and berries made a rather artistic mess over the space. Your hands covered your mouth as you ducked your head, shaking it back a forth. Tears welled in your eyes. Hawks, who had been on the other side of the counter moving the chair back into place, hopped over instantly. Sensing there was no coffee burn- I mean your drink had ice in it. His wing propelled him over, almost wrapping around you.

“Chickadee, are you okay?” His tone was filled with worry, golden iris scanning you.

->-----/After/-----<-

“So you had a sensory overload with your taste?”

“Y-yeah. And it was one of our newer drinks too.” You chuckled lightly. The sour taste and acid feeling still lingered heavily on your tongue. “It can sometimes be a hard to control what sense is getting a little boost.” You smiled slightly, almost soundly. “When I was younger, I even had quirk canceling stuff.” You laughed a bit.

->-----////-----<-

“Breaking news, CaffineLine is currently being held-”

->-----////-----<-

Your heart was in your throat as one of the men laid waste to a table. Your eyes watered from the intense heat coming from the melting metals and wood. These men weren’t known villains, not like the league, but that didn’t stop them from being dangerous.

“Where the fuck is he!” The same man yelled, you watched his bright orange iris glow as his palms started to turn red.

“Well, no one will be able to hear him if you keep destroying shit, Carter!” The other man yelled. You could feel the floor almost move like someone caused a ripple in the water. Your breath caught in your throat, and the vibration shot up your hands and arms, through your bones.

Your lungs contracted as you pushed your body closer to the counter you were behind. They were looking for someone. They didn’t want the money in the register or tip jar. They wanted ‘him’

“Are you even sure he’s even coming?”

“Yeah, he’s been spotted here over the last year.” You stared at your hands, the feeling of the cold tile grounding you. Your chest rose and fell in a quick motion. Too much! Too much was happening! They saw him come here all those times. They saw Hawks here- they want Hawks!

Every sense you had seemed to be shaking, grabbing onto anything it could. Your vision seemed to quake from the intensity of zoning in and out, seeing each line in your fingers and nails. The cold tiles worked through skin and bone, and every piece of clothing you wore made you want to scream at the feeling. The smell of coffee beans became an acidic poison making your eyes water. Then the sound, every scared heartbeat, and breath, every whimper from a child and hush from an adult. Then the light sound of wings.

“Ya know, you’ll have to pay for everything you touch.”

The calm voice caused your shoulders to slump, and your breath to be still. You shuffled to the edge of the counter, the scratch of clothes becoming almost painful but you needed to see him. You peered over to see him. Red wings splayed out and a cocky smile upon his lip. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, almost hearing the sound of tensing muscles. Sunny eyes scanned the room, likely taking in the civilians present. Till they landed on you, they stayed, lingering. Hawks watched the shaky-ness your eyes held. How your pupils dilated. His eyes flickered back to the man in front of him.

“You finally arrived!” The man with orange eyes yelled. His hand trailed another table, and a bit of fire spewed in chaotic lines. “Now we can have real fun!” The sound and smell of burning caused you to cringe back.

“Geeze, I already have one fire gremlin to deal with.” He heard you snort as he used your line, “I swear, it’s like I attract the hot ones.” Hawks quipped. His voice was flirtatious as he winked at the man. The sound of your laughter caused his shoulders to drop, and his muscles to loosen. It causes your sense to dull a bit, the tones of his voice bringing you a bit from your cliff. But it also caused anger. Your happy laugh caught the attention of the other man.

“You think this is funny, huh?” He questioned, walking towards you. His voice was calm. Like he was talking to a scared animal.

“Hey now, let's leave them out of this-“

“Would you shut it!” The fire spread through the tables, trailing to the ground near your fellow civilians. Hawks lunged in the direction, his wings giving a strong flap to put it out. to his surprise the fire did go out.

“I see” the man approaching spoke. “You must be the one he keeps coming to see every night” The ground under you rumbled and growled. Your body almost became limp from the intensity of the vibration. Your eyes caught on to flashing red wings, watching them sling sharp red daggers at the other man. You clawed at the tile floor to try and drag yourself away, but couldn’t.

You felt a tug on your shirt collar, being hoisted up to the man's chest and held there. His hand rested on your chest. “You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear. The sound sent a cry from your lips that caught Hawks's attention, an unconscious man now hung from his hand. His feather shot up, dancing in the air in his head-

“I wouldn’t or I’ll liquidate their organs and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Hawks stilled, his eyes scanning around again before landing on possibly you. His feathers sweep back into his wings. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. They're cute, huh? I can see why you kept coming here.” The man jarred, sending a light vibration through your body. But your quirk, the stress, and the fear caused it to amplify. It was like someone shook you with every ounce of strength they had- trying to pull a sound from a broken maraca. You cried out, gasping for air as tears trailed down your cheeks. The action causes the man holding you to tighten his grip. “Fuck they’re loud. Though-.” You watched his face morph into a smirk through tear-laced eyelashes “is that why you like them?”

Hawk's face tightened at the comment, but his eyes gazed past the man’s shoulder.

“You know, if you want their number, you should just ask.” A woman’s voice spoke from behind. The man gazed back. But you sensed something coming, the feeling of the atmosphere changed ever so slightly. “It’s impolite to just grab.”

At that moment you felt it. You felt every muscle in the man’s body shakes with such intensity you wondered if he used his quirk on himself. You heard his heart start racing. You saw the airy vines of purple loop themselves around your hands and arms, avoiding your skin and clothes with precise care.

“Yeah…what she said.” Hawks quietly spoke as he rather quickly walked to you. He carefully prided you away from the man, pushing you to his side a little too closely to be some random civilian. His Carmen wings wrapped around you, as almost a slight shield.

->-----////-----<-

Your body shook, and ripples of shivers seemed to cascade down your limbs. Your fingers pulled tight on the blanket around your shoulders, your back leaned against the ambulance. The EMTS had already given you the go-ahead to leave if you preferred but didn’t push. Other shaken civilians need to be checked. Some had burns from the intense heat of the melted table.

“How are you, Chickadee?” Hawks stood in front of you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His cherry eyes glided over your hunched form, watching you ever so slightly loosen your grip on the blanket.

“Shaken, but I’m okay. Are you alright?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay? I saw you fighting the other guy. Are you okay?”

“Heh, I’m an okay kid. Worry about yourself right now, okay?” Hawks spoke with a smile yet his eyes scanned the world around you.

It was a bit chaotic, at least to your standards. Cop cars and ambulances were only a touch away. People were getting interviewed and questioned, some by cops, others by the media. You could see flashes from the cameras in the distance, the photos likely going to reach the news for the pure fact Hawks arrived on the scene. The bright lights seemed too intense, almost unnecessary. Why take photos like this? When people felt vulnerable? It seemed cruel.

“Hey Chickadee,” your eyes shot back to Hawks, his slight movement forward catching you off guard. His voice also seemed different, a little quieter and deeper.

“Yes?” You scooted yourself forward a bit, ensuring the conversation would stay between just the two of you.

“Listen, you can say no and nothing will change, okay?”

“Okay” Your chest seemed to tighten, like a weight laid on it almost. But you hoped, almost praying he would ask you what you hoped.

“Would you like to get lunch sometime? “

“Yes.” Your answer came out faster than you wanted, but your voice was still very soft as an after-effect. In theory, your voice would have come out a lot louder, more chipper. Your cheeks heated up at your eagerness and Hawks laughed. The smile stretched his face at your reaction.

->-----////-----<-

Extra Part of the story: a bit angsty

“You finally ask them?”

“When did you get so interested in my love life?” Keigo joked. He wanted a second for the other hero to catch up.

“When you started looking happier. And acting like a teenage boy.” Keigo glanced at her, taking in Sasha’s appearance. He knew she was being serious, but trying to give him an out in the case.

“Yeah…”

“I won’t tell them, Hawks. I know the commission doesn’t want you dating” Hawks didn’t respond. “But you also know the Wings isn't legal,” She chuckled lightly, causing Hawks to smile a bit.

“How are they by the way?”

“They're good, pains died down a bit.”

“That’s good to hear, I wouldn’t mind flying with them again. If they can keep up that is.” Hawks felt a playful shove to his arm, responding by slapping her with his wings.

Sasha shook her head, smiling before both his and her phones went off. Pictures already appeared of the incident that had just happened.

Hawks Come to The Rescue!

Hawks Appears-

Hawks Saves-

Hawks-

Hero Hawks and Shiver-

A photo of the area showed you in the background. You appeared hunched, the camera lights getting outlines of your face. It was a small thing, something most people wouldn’t even notice. But both Keigo and Sasha did.

“I won’t tell them, Hawks,” Sasha spoke more sternly, her fingers clutching her phone, her thumb swiping up to exit the article. Hawks caught a glimpse of her Home Screen. A younger Sasha and Wings hanging on each other. It was before they broke Wings’ wings. “They don’t deserve it.”

“Neither did Wings.”

“Yeah… neither did Wings.”

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