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norrisleclercf1 · 30 days

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He's Not Yours

Pairing: Mafia!Jenson x Assistant!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Pregnancy, lying, angst, fluff, it's really just, yeah

Synopsis: One night changes your life, but one lie completely destroys it

Mafia Jenson: pt.1 Unattainable / pt.2 Slipping Through My Fingers

A/N: This was an idea @percervall and I talked about a long time ago and I’m finally writing it and yes this is part of the main story

With shaking hands, you try to read the test before you; you are unwilling to believe what the test says. The two little lines mock you, making you sick. Taking another deep breath, you grab your phone and dial the first person you can think of.

"I need you,"

-----------------------

Lewis holds it as you sit on the couch, sobbing, trying to get control. You craved control, but instead, you've thrown your world into such uncontrollable chaos that your chest has tightened. Lewis takes an intense breath, blows out, puts the test down on the coffee table, and slowly bends to your height.

"Jenson?" He asks the question slowly like he knew asking you would set off a whole wave of tears. You flinch at his name, the flashes of drinks, laughter, his hands on your body, pulling delicious toe-curling orgasms out of you. And the way he felt inside you. Shaking your head, you nod it slowly, and Lewis groans. He wants to yell at you for finally getting with Jenson and being so reckless.

"Well, I know this isn't how you wanted to get with him, but Y/n." "He can never know," Lewis snaps his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing but softening when you look up at him. "Lewis, he can never know. Lewis, promise me, promise me you won't tell him." Lewis groans and hangs his head. Sighing, he pulls you into his arms as you cry into his chest. "I won't, I won't tell him."

--------------------

You finally calmed down enough to talk with Lewis about being pregnant. Pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Pregnant with Jenson's baby, it made a smile tug at your lips, but you had to shake your head as it would be extremely dangerous having his child. You loved Jenson, and he loved you, yet you two kept up this game of not being together. Jenson was the head of a Mafia group, and if his enemies learned he had a child, he'd have a weakness, a weakness that would end with either the child's death or his, and you knew you wouldn't survive either.

"I know you don't want to tell him, but you can't hide it," Lewis whispers, pouring you some juice, even though you'd really wish it was alcohol. "I'm not going to hide it, Lewis. Just tell him it's someone else's, baby," Lewis makes a disgruntled noise and sits down, shaking his head. "Y/n, I love you, but that would crush him. He loves you, and you two finally sleep together, and he has been chewing Fernando and I's ear off about how you two are finally coming together." The knife in your heart stabs deeper, tearing into the muscle with such force you choke on air.

"If people find out that this is his child, they'll target the child, and Jenson would," You take a deep breath as the tears gather in your eyes. "Jenson would rather die than let his child be harmed. I can't lose them both," You whimper, hanging your head in shame. "You're going to lose him if you tell him that you're carrying another man's baby." Lewis loves you, he'd kill for you, has killed for you, he'd die for you, but he wouldn't support you in this. Jenson has been his friend for years, and this would crush his dearest friend.

"You think I don't know that!" Your voice raises at the end, and you swallow back the bile burning your throat. "Lewis, just trust that I'm doing the right thing," Lewis has never seen you so broken. You were always this badass, tough woman who could cut a man down with one look. Hell, you've got Jenson Button down on his knees for you. "I don't think you're doing the right thing, but I'll be here for you, no matter what." Lewis moves, sitting down next to you and kissing your head.

"We have the gala tonight," you whisper, and Lewis groans, knowing Jenson will be all over you. You know, last gala, I snuck off with Sebastian, and we were gone for a while," you whisper, and Lewis goes tense next to you. "Don't, Jenson and Sebastian are close," You chuckle, sipping at the sweet drink in your hand. "Sebastian and I were engaged once." His jaw drops as you nod, having never revealed that fact. "I'm sorry, what? You were once engaged to Michael Schumacher's right-hand man, now the German Mafia's leader?" Lewis pulls back, and a wet chuckle gets past your lips.

"We were children, young, we met at university, and well, it was a whirlwind romance. We got so close to being married, but we both realized we didn't want this, so we stopped. Stayed good friends too," Lewis thinks over every interaction you've had with them, and you giggle, seeing the lightbulb go off. "Oh my god, that's how you got us to meet with them," you nod and start to laugh, feeling slightly lighter.

"Jesus," Lewis sinks into the couch as you nod. Where did you...could it be?" You stop him and shake your head no. "No, Sebastian... no, we didn't sleep together," you admit, and Lewis nods his head, not wanting to doubt you, but right now, he needs a little doubt. "Would Sebastian even agree to this?" Sipping on the juice is the only thing that does not make you nauseous. "Yes, he owes me." Lewis raises an eyebrow, and you lean back into his arms, his fingers digging into your neck muscles.

"Why does he owe you?" Lewis stops and shakes his head fast. "Actually, don't tell me, knowing you, it's probably something horrible." Your lip quirks up as you sigh and look at Lewis. "He's in love with Mark," "Oh yeah, he's in love with Mark," Lewis repeats, his eyes slowly growing wide as he lets the words sink in. "What, but Mark is," "Yep," You whisper sadly, remembering the night Sebastian sobbed in your arms about Mark and how he would never love him.

"Does Mark," "He suspects something, but that's why tonight I'll be stuck by his side. He'll get drunk and do something reckless," You whisper, Lewis nods and looks at the time. "We should get going," You nod, standing as you look down at the pregnancy test. "Oh god, I'm pregnant." Lewis laughs and pulls you into his chest, rubbing your arm, "Yeah, yeah, you are,"

----------------------

"Something is off," Lewis tenses next to Jenson as he stares at you and Sebastian. Lewis tries hard not to make eye contact, worried he'll spill everything to Jenson. "What, no, nothing is off," Lewis answers far too fast, but Jenson doesn't clock it, staring a hole into your head. "How do Sebastian and Y/n know each other?" Lewis swears his muscles will rip from how tight they are, and Mark questions the closeness between you and Sebastian.

Lewis wishes you could hear his thoughts as Sebastian puts an arm around your waist, and you lean into him. Lewis closes his eyes and sees Sebastian moving his hand lower and you inching closer. "Okay, I'm going to rip his hand off," Jenson slams his whiskey down, but Mark steps in. "Touch him, and I'll rip you apart." Jenson and Mark have a stare-down, Lewis panicking. "Stop it. They used to be engaged, so I'm sure there are still feelings there," Lewis blurts out, and he groans, knowing he just fucked up.

"What?" Jenson's sound makes Lewis's blood run cold as Fernando walks up and giggles. "Eh, love birds are leaving," Lewis wishes Fernando could read a room. Actually, he could. He was just feeding into it." Jenson's eyes turn pitch black as Sebastian grins and leads you out of the gala.

-------------------

"Congratulations," Sebastian whispers, and you smile, lying your head on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, can," "Of course, but you know I won't be in the baby's life; I'm going to be the cool uncle." You giggle, and he sighs, pulling you closer. "So, Jenson, you are having a baby." "No," Your voice is cold as you touch your stomach. "I'm having a baby, not Jenson. He was just a...a sperm donor." You spit and sigh as Sebastian stares at you with wide eyes. "Woah, alright, never mind. Noted, don't talk about Jenson." Sebastian whispers, and you groan, burying your face in your hands.

"Sorry, it's the fucking hormones, if the time is right, I'm 3 months pregnant." Sebastian hums and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "It's okay, but I'm serious; you can say I'm the father, but I can't be involved; he's around too much." You understood why Sebastian stayed away. It was too painful for him to constantly see Mark and not be with him. "I understand." And you did. It was unbearable for you to be around Jenson, even more so now that you are pregnant.

"I could always move to Germany," You offer, and Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head no. "He'd follow you, and then rip me to shreds, and then just drag you back here." You nod your head, knowing that was all very true. "I'm glad I can call you my friend," Sebastian smirks and waves a hand over him. "Well, duh, I'm the better blonde." Giggling, you two stand up and walk back to the party; you shiver, feeling someone watching you.

Turning, you see a distraught Lewis, a confused Mark, a smug Fernando, and a furious Jenson. Sebastian notices and moves, placing a delicate kiss on your lips and shocking you. You can see Fernando and Lewis holding Jenson back. "I hope you're making the right decision." You smile, and Sebastian gives you one last kiss, leaving you in the shadows.

Walking over, you grab a drink, but Lewis quickly swaps them, and you nod. "What the fuck was that about?" Jenson growls, Mark even looking pissed, which has you thinking things over. "I was telling him some news," "Which is what? What could possibly have been your ex-fiance kissing you?" You whip your head to Lewis, who quickly looks away and whistles. "Nothing," Jenson tightens his hold on his glass and waves over the bartender. "Get her a real drink, please," "No, thank you," The guys stare at you, shocked; you always drink with them. "I can't drink," You whisper, unable to look them in the eyes.

The bartender's eyes sweep over you and smile. "Congrats." He walks off. Jenson stares, but then a smile starts to grow. "Are you?" "Yes! And it's Sebastian's okay, but he wants... just leave it alone." You whisper. A pen could drop with how silent it was around you. Lewis, I want to go home now," Lewis nods and gathers you in his arms, noticing how you are still wearing Sebastian's jacket.

---------------------

2 months later, 5 months pregnant

You stopped wearing your heels, and you hated it. Mark and Jenson kept towering over you, and you were annoyed with it. Since that night at the gala, Jenson hasn't said much to you, just small words here and there, but today, he asked you to come into the office early, so here you are, trying to figure out what he would want to say to you.

Knocking on the office door, you push it open and see Jenson sitting in the same position you left him last night. "Did you stay the night?" You ask, shocked at his disheveled state. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" The question throws you off, shock flashing through your features, but you quickly school your emotions and take a deep breath. "No, Jenson, it's not your baby." His face, once stoic, breaks as he takes a deep breath and looks away.

"There's...not even a chance?" He whispers, and you hate being pregnant at this moment because he's got your throat tightening without even touching you, eyes burning like fire has been thrown in them. "No," You choke on the word; clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back and speak up. "No, there's not a chance." You repeat, and Jenson leans back, rubs his face, and nods. "Sebastian, he....he's going to be there for you, yes?" It wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. "No, he wants nothing to do with the bug, baby." Jenson's face is cold, but then he cracks a smile.

"Bug?" You sigh. It was something you started calling the baby, and it just stuck. Lewis even bought the baby a little bug plushie. "Yes, it's something I called the baby," "That's cute," Jenson stands and walks over before settling on his couch and patting the empty side. You move and sit down, feeling your feet ache as you whine. "I'm not the father, but I want to help Y/n," You open your eyes and stare at him. The raw emotion on his face eats you alive, Jenson has always spoken about how much he's always wanted to be a father, and here he is, the father of your baby, and you're hiding that from him. Taking away the one thing he's truly wanted.

"Jenson, you don't have to," Jenson moves, his large hands wrapping around your ankles and lifting them to his lap, and slowly rub the soles of your feet. "Jenson, please, I'm doing this alone," You whisper and pull your feet in, knees tucked into your chest. Jenson stares at you, the rejection hurting, but he clears his throat. "So, I'm just your boss, and you're my assistant, and us fucking, us telling each other we loved one another, that never happened? Instead, you fucked, Sebastian, and now you're pregnant with his baby, not mine." Jenson snaps, standing up, and you flinch, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just," You don't know what comes over you, but you start to cry and hold your arms out to him, just wanting to feel his warmth and smell the whiskey and earth that clings to him. Jenson doesn't think twice and sits down, pulling you into his lap. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You repeat, sobbing into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm always here,"

----------------------

3 months later, 8 months pregnant

You don't know how it happened, but one day, you were living in your lovely apartment, and suddenly, you were living in Jenson's home, painting the nursery together. Now, you're lying in bed, wondering if you should talk to Jenson.

He wasn't his usual self; as your stomach grew, the more he refused to let you out of his sight, and you could tell he was slowly losing his mind. According to Lewis, he saw Sebastian not too long ago, and they both left the room with busted lips and black eyes. Jenson came stalking into the house, stormed past you, and locked himself up in his study hours ago. Unable to sleep, you throw the covers off and groan.

Your stomach was heavier and heavier by the day as your little bug was dropping, getting ready for you to give birth. Holding your stomach, you waddle to his study and knock on the door softly. "Jense, it's me." You push it open with ease and stop seeing him sitting at the desk, his head down and a bottle of whiskey half empty. "Jenson," You whisper, close the door, and walk farther into the study. "Jenson, love," You whisper, hating how you living here has made you two grow closer, scary close for you.

He looks up, and you hiss, seeing his eye and lip swollen. "That should be my baby; I wish it was my baby; I wish you were mine." He croaks, and you freeze, your hold on your stomach tightening. "Jense," "I would take such good care of you because I-.. because I love you." He whimpers, sounding so broken that you blink, and tears slide down your cheeks. Your chest aches; you knew he'd remember nothing in the morning. He was far too drunk to even correctly see if it was you in front of him and not some dream.

"Jenson, he is yours," you whisper, stepping forward and cupping his face, wiping the tears as his hands touch your stomach, staring at it. "Don't hurt me like that, baby. It's okay; I don't need to lie to protect my heart. Don't care. I will care for them no matter what. I will care for both of you," He slurs with a sad smile. That ache in your chest grows as you pull him up; he stumbles but stands upright and blinks slowly. "Let's go to bed, Jense." Jenson nods and follows after you. He stumbles occasionally, but you carefully lead him into the room, and he flops onto his bed.

"Go to sleep," You lean down and kiss his cheek, but he stops you, and you freeze, having never seen such vulnerability in someone before. "Stay, I'm, just stay," He begs, and you nod, not even thinking twice as you climb into the bed and sigh. Jenson's hand moves to your stomach, lying on it protectively. You flinch, feeling a little kick, and Jenson giggles. "Hey, little bug, I'm Jenson. I'm not your father, but I'll love you like one." You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to sob as Jenson slips off into sleep, leaving you to sob quietly into the pillow.

---------------------------

1 month later, Hospital

Jenson couldn't believe it; this tiny little human, the tiny bug, was finally here, in his arms. You slept soundly as Jenson refused to leave your side, and Lewis was picking out the perfect outfit to take him home in. "Should we do the bugs?" Jenson makes a face, and Lewis sighs as Jenson can't look away. The tiny bundle was tucked tight in his arms, staring up at Jenson. Jenson hated that the baby had Sebastian's eyes, these perfect little blues, with a little button nose and perfect lips.

"Here, dress him in this," Lewis says, holding out a pretty blue onesie, but Jenson shakes his head. He and the baby were doing skin-to-skin, and it felt like the perfect thing to do like the universe was frozen and nothing was wrong in the world. Jenson, you have to dress him." Lewis whispers, and Jenson finally looks away and groans, taking the onesie. "Ruining mine and bug's moment." "His name is Theodore, Theo for short." Jenson doesn't think it is possible, but he falls more in love with the little boy and his mother.

"Called Sebastian," Mark walks into the room and coos at the little blue eyes staring at him. Mark freezes and looks at Lewis with realization; Lewis slowly shakes his head no, and Mark looks at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed, and back at one of his dearest friends dressing the tiny human. "Yeah, what did he say? Does he even want to see his son?" Jenson asks in a cheery tone, but they can hear the anger in them.

Theo coos and yawns. Mark melts before shaking his head. "Um, he said, 'Oh, that's good,' and hung up." Jenson picks up little Theo and holds him close like any father would. "Fuck him," Lewis casts a glare, and Jenson doesn't see it too wrapped up in little Theo, who just stares right back at Jenson.

"Jenson," Lewis whispers; his close friend looks up with so much happiness and love that Lewis feels his heartbreak. Don't forget, he's not yours." Jenson's smile fades, blinking slowly as he looks back down at Theo and then at you. I know, but a man could dream." Jenson's voice breaks as he leans down, kissing Theo softly. "A man could dream," he whispers softly.

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vivwritesfics · 27 days

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Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twelve

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: blood, dream violence

Mafia AU

1.3K

Series Masterlist

Lando pressed her against the kitchen counter, his lips against her neck. She whined and moaned as he touched her. Red, bloody stains were left on her cheeks when Lando's fingertips touched her. And then a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in her side.

Lando pulled away from her and her lips chased his. But she couldn't follow him, stuck to the counter. When the fuck did Lando get a knife? And why the hell was that knife covered in blood?

Her hand was covering that stabbing pain in her side. When she pulled her fingers away, they were wet, red with blood. A scream left her lips and she wanted to collapse to the floor, but she couldn't, still stuck to the counter.

Lando shed his shirt, and his entire skin was covered with blood. But it was so clear that the blood wasn't his own. He brandished the knife as he strode into her living room.

It was just the two of them in her apartment. So, who the fuck was Lando walking towards? Her heart pounded in her chest as Lando walked over to the couch, to the person sleeping there. Who the hell was it?

But it didn't matter. Lando plunged his knife into their chest. He didn't stop there, though. He kept going, completely disfiguring them. She couldn't stop screaming as the blood spilled around her apartment, around her safe haven. The wound in her side was forgotten as the blood ran down her body, pooling on the floor.

Hands held her. "I've got you," someone was saying, pulling her close as she woke up with a start. Hands that had just been touching her, leaving blood on her. Even if it was in a dream.

She let out another scream as she fought against him, pushing away and crawling across the bed, away from him. "Stay away from me!" She cried, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Lando didn't reach for her again. He sat on the other side of the bed, watching as she tried to get her breathing back under the control. "You're okay," he said, hand moving across the sheets. But she couldn't even look at him, and Lando's heart snapped in two.

He stood up and walked back to the room. "Wait!" She called, and Lando couldn't stop the way that his heart jumped. "I locked my bedroom door before I went to sleep," she said. "How the hell did you get in?"

Lando had only felt pain like this once before, when his mother died. But the woman he loved, she was trying to keep him out. She'd locked the door to keep him away from her, and Lando wouldn't be surprised if she never trusted him again after breaking in.

He walked out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He'd fix this. He'd have to.

Lando didn't get back to sleep that night. How could he when her screams filled the apartment. It was a wonder that the neighbours didn't come knocking. He stared at the ceiling, pillow behind his head as he rested on the sofa.

It was one of the longest nights of his life. When the sun rose, he listened as her door opened and she walked out of her bedroom, looking just as tired as she looked. "Baby," Lando whispered as he sat up and rubbed his hand over his forehead.

She ignored him as she moved to the kitchen and made herself a coffee. Her hands shook as she boiled the kettle. Lando couldn't help but watch as she placed bread into the toaster. The way her hands shook, there was no way she would have been able to butter it on her toast.

Lando stood. He walked over to the counter, coming to stand beside her. "Let me help," he said, taking the butter knife from her hands.

"Lando," she whispered, his hands gentle against her own. His hands may have been gentle, but he was still a murderer. "You... kill people."

His head dropped, curls falling over her eyes. "I know. Baby, trust me I know." She couldn't move as he reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear. "But they were bad people." The lie slipped so easily from his mouth, he couldn't help it. Being in this apartment without her touch was killing him.

"Aren't you a bad person, Lando?" She muttered, but she didn't move away from his touch. Not until her toast popped out of the toaster and she flinched.

Lando took it out of the toaster and buttered it for her. "I am, baby. But I need you to know that I'd never, ever hurt you. You're too precious to me." He kept his hand on her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her.

She didn't pull away, not right away anyway. But, when she did, she shut her eyes. "Lando, I love you," she said quietly. "But I need you to give me space."

"Okay," he said, pulling away and leaving her toast in front of her. "Do you want me to find somewhere else to stay?"

She shook her head as she picked up her toast. "I still want to know you're safe," she said and took a bite. She left Lando standing there in the kitchen while she sat herself down on the sofa and ate the rest of her breakfast.

Lando let out a breath. She loved him, she didn't want him to move out. At that, he could rest easy.

He watched her as she ate. She didn't deserve this, didn't deserve a monster like him in her life. "I'm gonna go and shower," he said as he pushed away from the counter top. "And then maybe we can talk some more."

She shook her head as she stood up and placed her plate on the counter. "Can't," she said and finished her coffee. "I've got work."

Panic flooded Lando. "Baby, you can't."

She let out a huff. "I have to, Lando," she said and walked into her bedroom.

For the entire day that she was at work, Lando was on edge. It took everything in him to not text her every five minutes. But it was just because he wanted to make sure that she was alive.

Unable to do any work, Lando did nothing but lounge around on her sofa. As much as he needed to sleep, he couldn't. He tried cleaning, but Lando had quite literally never cleaned anything in his life, and he only served to spread the mess around.

As Lando sat in her apartment, he couldn't help but picture a little cat curled up beside him. It would have been there cat, one they adopted together after he moved into her apartment. And moving in with her would have been Lando's escape, his way out of the mafia world that he fucking hated.

He hated it more than anything now.

If that was the reason he lost her, Lando would never be able to forgive himself.

Hours later, the door unlocked. Lando brandished the nearest thing to him to use as a weapon. The television remote. It was pitiful, really. But then she walked through the door and he visibly relaxed.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked instead of saying 'hello'. She placed her bag down onto one of the chairs in her kitchen, rolled up her sleeves and pulled open her fridge.

In an instantly Lando was on his feet and racing towards her. "I've been sat here all day doing nothing," he said as he stood behind her. "Let me sort dinner."

She let out a breath as she pulled out a carton of eggs. "Do you actually know how to cook?" She asked as she began preparing dinner.

She cooked in silence. Every other time she'd made dinner for Lando, he'd gotten in her way, giggles sounding as she danced around him. But there were no giggles now. God, he missed her smile so fucking much.

Please let me know if my taglist is working it's really pissing me off

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adoregojo · 5 months

Text

"it's .... calling again?!"

based on this

mf is flabbergasted

it was a normal night where he was preparing dinner, swiftly cutting the needed vegetables into small chunks. he insisted on helping you cook even helping with the bare minimum, as long as he can ease things off your plate he'll be happy. it was a great night for him, but honestly every night with you is a great night.

that until you came to him telling him about that the guy next door sent you an email voicemail, he wasn't suspicious at first he thought maybe he wanted to greet you or something but it sent him off it was sent to you only.

he nods anyway as you play the voicemail, at first it was normal and he keeps doing the cutting quietly. he space a bit when he says he left a message days before..that was odd.

then he starts compliment you, your boyfriend stops for a while, he was now hard staring at you then the phone, his brows meeting in an almost disgusted look (not at you of course) the urge to snatch the phone from your hand was strong. but he stay still for your sake swallowing his feelings. the longer the man kept talking and threatening you the more sturdy his hand was holding the knife.

he snaps when he mentioned your childhood trauma, how fucking dare he?! suddenly your boyfriend was holding the knife as if he was a serial killer. he was ready to step out of the door to greet your very beloved neighbor a real heart stabbing warming welcome before you stop him telling him it was a joke. you actually had to hold him back physically standing between him and the door.

he stopped greeting your neighbor for whatever reason.

isagi, hiori, yukii, chigiri, kunigami

he's..something

usually at this time he would be on couch eating snacks while watching tv with you in his embrace, except you were in the kitchen getting something while he scrolled down the tv recommended shows. it was you two free time where he'd rather spend it with you than anyone, it's his favorite thing and most exciting part of all his busy week.

as you soon as you sat down he recognized the look on your face, a troubled one. usually you would have been tackled by him right now but he wanted to hear what you have first. you nervously spoke about a new coworker who sent you in voice message, he raised his eyebrow. he didn't like this already.

he decided he didn't like the guy who just spoke three words which was just him introducing himself, he takes a bite of the plate of chips, chewing on them until he heard the guy talking about your looks, your boyfriend was so baffled he choked on his chip. he thought this couldn't get any worse until he says how great in bed he is, that was his last straw.

he cleared his throat as he stands up to steal your phone, literally snatching it and mumbling who the fuck dose this guy think he is? a millions of thoughts went through his head and they were all plans to take this guy down and make his swallow his own words. he was about to lose his mind when he couldn't find his number, shoving the phone in your face.

"call him and tell him to come here. RIGHT NOW."

"babe..it was a prank."

got removed by security from your work place for trying to assault someone. he got banned too

shidou, reo, shidou, karasu, aiku, otoya, bachira, ness

never again.

you honestly didn't expect much from him, your boyfriend always remained calm and collected. not that he didn't care, he trusted you and the other part was just his natural, you always thought it was a part of his charm.

he was washing the dinner dishes quietly, with his face who was always told it was bitch resting one, you wondered what would people think of your very unbearable boyfriend was doing his chores like a housewife. it made you light headed when he was willing to do this for you only.

but it was no time to shy out now, you can admire him later. you walked up to him and pocked his arm, without turning to you he asked softly of what is it. telling him that a a client keeps sending you voicemails, for a second he seems invested, then nodding for you to play it.

he doesn't say anything for a the first minute, still scrubbing the leftovers soup plate. yet he slows his movement when the the man on the phone starts rambling about how elegant and beautiful you are, the frown was slowly making it way to his face.

eventually he stopped what was he doing, totally spacing out and grimacing at every word the guy on your phone spoke, he was patient. very patient. at least that's what he tells himself to hear the whole thing while pinching the bridge of his nose.

the message ended and the first thing your boyfriend did was head to the bedroom, his aura felt like a whole winter season. a few seconds past and you felt you went a little too far, or maybe he just got bored.

that until he slams the door open by his foot while carrying a literal shotgun, you were speechless. almost screamed in horror.

"whats his house address. i need to have a little chat with him."

he also got banned for sending death stares to every client that gets too close. doesn't get easily angry my ass.

sae, rin, barou, kaiser, nagi.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #rin x reader #bachira x reader #reo x reader #karasu tabito x reader #otoya eita x reader #kaiser x reader #ness alexis x reader #barou x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 9 months

Text

Vikings preference: your friend hits on you and gets aggressive

@ivartheb0neless

Ragnar Feels genuinely hurt because he thought he could trust your friend. Whenever Ragnar went away, he'd ask your friend to keep an eye on you and generally make sure you're safe and sound. Makes veiled threats and passive-aggressive jokes at first, hoping that he can both force a boundary and not sour any relationships but his humour is gone when he realizes that your friend is not keen on taking no as an answer. If you raise your concern about "safety vs. keeping a friend", Ragnar makes a sarcastic comment about your sentiment - because a guy who forced himself on you is such a great friend to keep, right?

Gives you a knife to keep on you at all times. If you have the guts, and such an occasion arises, to stab the man once he gets physical with you, Ragnar will have your back no matter what. Also, low-key thrilled. But if you don't end up fighting your own battles, he'll gladly do it for you. Not an ounce of regret on his face during or after.

Bjorn Pretty direct. Makes plausible threats and will fulfil them. Terrifyingly calm and collected for the most part. He's angry but also disappointed that someone you considered a friend could repay your kindness and affection in such a way.

If you tell Bjorn that you're unsure what to do because you want to keep your friend or you think that he's overdoing things, he might get short with you but it's not out of malice. He's worried that if you don't see your male friend for the lying snake that he is, you might get even more hurt and that possibility enrages him so much he doesn't entertain that thought longer than necessary.

Bjorn is definitely the type to make his revenge somewhat public. Not only will that make others keep their distance from you but it will also earn him respect among other men - he takes his husbandly duties seriously. Whether your "friend" lives or dies is entirely up to them and how callous they have been with you. Whether he meant to or not, Bjorn causes people to look away from you when you're walking through the town. No one wants to risk getting your friend's treatment.

After that, Bjorn will never trust any man who tries to be your friend or claims to be one.

Ubbe Tries to be the bigger person at first and has a stern word with your friend. Ubbe is probably the only one to seriously take your word/assurance that there's nothing to get worked up about. He will also wait relatively the longest before getting seriously involved - not because he doesn't care, it's quite the contrary. He doesn't want to impose on your independence, so even if he's uncomfortable with the situation but you keep saying "I've got this", he will keep to himself although will voice his concerns (and will refuse to leave you alone at any place or time). When things become serious and the man starts to get physical, Ubbe will make it clear that from now on he's more concerned about your well-being than your freedom: "I'm sorry for disregarding your wishes but I can't sit and watch you get hurt". Believes to be responsible for your safety as your husband.

Ubbe is the type of person who will seek your friend out on his own and resolve the issue right then and there. He goes to the other man's house one night and leaves it only when an agreement is reached - doesn't matter how far he has to go to ensure that. Ubbe's not afraid to get his hands dirty for the right reasons.

Hvitserk Also hurt because he was actually getting along well with the other man. Hvitserk will ask about your perspective and wishes but if your safety is compromised, he won't make them a priority. At first, he's trying to get you out of harm's way, so you're leaving your house only if he's by your side. But once he learns that your supposed friend forced his way into your home and put his hands on you, Hvitserk is determined to take things into his own hands. He won't seek out your friend on his own but rather wait for an opportunity to arise; doesn't start the fight but surely will end it. The next time another unwanted advances are made towards you, Hvitserk has an axe in his hand and this time, he's the one who doesn't take no for an answer.

If you ever befriend another man after that, Hvitserk will tolerate him but never let go of any suspicions. Also, might tell the story of your previous "admirer" to scare your new friend into behaving properly.

Sigurd The most probable to get into a brawl right away. At first, he feels quite self-conscious seeing another man flirting with you but when the man in question starts to become aggressive, Sigurd coins his insecurity into hostility, effectively picking a fight. After what seems like lakes of blood and an entire concert of bones breaking, the brawl ends. Sigurd looks like he's been through Hell and still that's a lot better than your friend, who would be pronounced dead if it wasn't for the sporadic raise of his chest as he tries to take in a ragged breath. Sigurd will also voice his anger as he's caving in the other man's skull ("Was it fun when you grabbed her? Enjoying a little manhandling, eh? I'm happy to provide").

Gains respect in his brothers' eyes but none of them quite wants to admit it.

Ivar He would also feel self-conscious at first. Considers your friend's bold behaviour an assault on his masculinity ("You think I'm not man enough and therefore think you have any right to bother my wife"). Not surprised in the slightest. Hated the guy's guts from the very beginning and made it obvious. Might actually say the dreaded "told you so".

Because he perceives your friend's aggression as somewhat personal, Ivar is driven to go quite far in order to make the punishment fit for the crime. Not only does he do it for your sake but also to make sure that everyone knows just how much of a true Viking is inside him. Some say that "silence is golden", so if your friend decides to use less-than-savoury language towards you, he might end up with his throat filled with liquid gold to ensure no more offence leaves his mouth. Similarly, he's going to suffer the "equivalents" for whatever other thing he's done. He grips your hand so hard there's a bruise? Ivar will wrap his hand with a chain and slowly tighten it until all the bones crack and the wrist is literally torn away from the forearm. But no matter what he does, in the end he still feels like it doesn't quite make up for your friend's wrongdoings.

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iamnotoriginalphil · 7 months

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Her Girl (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Sometimes you have to calm Melissa down, and sometimes you get more than you bargained for when you do.

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: anger, gross men, mentioned violence

“And so all I had to say to him was glitter was for special occasions. To which he told me anything could be a special occasion which really made me reevaluate some things,” you said to the camera crew, brushing some of the green glitter off your hands, “an ordinary day could be a special occasion and maybe we should celebrate-”

A teacher rushed past you, throwing a scared glance back over their shoulder. You watched them go before you began to hear the shouting that was coming from down the hall. One voice, in particular, was very familiar.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” you said to the camera crew, before following the sounds of conflict.

Bursting into the staff room you found most of the teachers pushed to the outer edges, looking inwards at the centre of the room. Melissa had the neck of a poor teacher’s shirt clutched in her fist, the other brandishing a plastic knife close enough to his eye to cause concern. The murder in her own eyes was also a concern. He was trying to cower away from her but her grip was strong and her anger unstoppable.

“What’s going on?” you whispered to Janine.

“I think he said something she didn’t like,” she whispered back, “she keeps calling him a pig.”

“Are you going to intervene?” Gregory asked, leaning over to you.

At some point in the last three years you’d been teaching at Abbott you’d become the designated person to calm Melissa down. It had started with small things like noticing when the vein beginning to throb in her temple or the way her gaze turned sharp when Janine began to talk. You would usher from the room or distract her until that anger was forgotten. Now, whenever it looked like she was going to kill someone, you were sought out to stop it on school property.

And no one knew why you were the only one that could calm her down. Yourself included.

“You’re pathetic,” Melissa shouted, “you can’t say shit like that. Not about her.”

“I suppose I have to, don’t I?” you sighed.

You stepped into the no man’s land left from the teachers trying to keep out of the way of Melissa’s rage while still watching the fight. There was a sharp intake of breath from behind. You ignored it, pausing at your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey Mel,” you said, keeping your voice light, letting her know you were there without sneaking up on her, “what’s going on?”

“This piece of shit has been running his mouth,” she replied, the knife coming dangerously close to his eye.

“And you’re planning on stabbing him in the eye?” you asked.

“I’m planning on teaching him he can’t say shit like that,” she said.

You eased your way around her until you were able to see her face. You reached up, curling your fingers around her wrist, the one holding the knife, holding it in case a sudden move took his eye out. His gaze flicked down to you then back to the knife, turning cross eyed as he tried to keep it in sight.

“I’m not sure this is the best way of doing that,” you said to her.

She looked to you, those green eyes flashing with an anger that was far beyond what you were used to. If anyone but Melissa had looked at you like that you would have flinched back, but you knew Melissa. You trusted Melissa. She would never hurt you.

“Tell her what you said,” she demanded of the man.

You looked to him, still held in a death grip. He whimpered at the knife wavering in front of his face.

“I was just voicing my admiration for you-“

“Don’t you dare lie right to my face,” Melissa growled before looking back to you, “he said that he’s fantasised about bending you over your desk and that your mouth looks perfect for blowjobs.”

“Ew,” you said looking back at him, sweeping your eyes over his trembling body, “gross.”

“And so I have to take his tongue so he never says it again” she said.

He whimpered again. You sighed, leaning towards Melissa, lowering your voice.

“There are witnesses. Ava is filming. Think this through, Mel. There’s enough evidence for them to take you down if you do anything right now.”

She huffed, eyes finding your face. She allowed her hand to be lowered by the hold you still had on her wrist. You were soft as you plucked the knife out of her hand. She shoved the man back before releasing him, watching him trip over his own feet to sprawl on the ground. You didn’t even bother sparing him a glance before stepping in front of Melissa properly.

“Come on,” you said, keeping your voice low enough that she was the only one who’d hear, “he’s not worth criminal charges.”

The growl low in her throat shouldn’t have done something to you but an angry Melissa had an appeal that was hard to understand. She was staring at you, clearly thinking it over. Your thumb brushed against her pulse point, feeling it beating hard under your touch. She jerked out of your hold.

“Fine,” she ground out.

“Now let’s leave that creep to…” You glanced over your shoulder at him, nose wrinkling at the spreading wet patch, “find new trousers.”

She strode out of the room, other teachers scattering to give her a clear walkway. You followed in her wake, ignoring the whispers that sprung up behind you. Half running, you trailed her into her classroom, watching her hands clenching into fists.

“Mel…”

“Don’t.” She spun on you, “he was outta line.”

“Sure, but he’s hardly the first guy who’s said something gross about me and he’s not going to be last. At least he didn’t come up to me and say it to my face expecting me to jump into bed with him like it’s some kind of compliment,” you said, “c’mon Mel, you know what guys are like.”

“He has no right to say that stuff about you,” she growled.

A slow smile began to stretch over your face. Her scowl deepened.

“Were you defending my honour?” you asked.

She mumbled something under her breath.

“Melissa Schemmenti, you were totally defending my honour,” you laughed.

“He doesn’t get to talk about you like that,” she said.

“Mel, it’s fine,” you reassured.

“No it’s not,” she snapped.

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because you’re my girl.”

Her outburst wasn’t expected by either of you. She blinked, taking a step back as your mouth fell open, watching her. Your heart thudded against your ribs and for the first time with her uncertainty filled your veins.

“What?” Your voice came out in a whisper.

She sighed, looking less than pleased at the situation she’d found herself in.

“Look, everyone here knows your my girl. They know not to talk about you like that,” she said.

“Okay can we cycle back to the bit about me being your girl,” you said, “what?”

She rolled her eyes before both of her hands cupped your cheeks and pulled you in. Lips pressed together, stealing your breath, making your skin tingle with electricity. Your hands found a home on her hips, pulling her closer as she nipped at your bottom lip. Her fingers slid into your hair as she drew back.

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one who didn’t know you were my girl,” she said, “why do you think I let you talk me out of most of my revenge plans? It’s not because I don’t wanna do them.”

“Have I been your girlfriend this entire time without knowing it?” you asked.

“Course not, hon,” she said, “but you will be.”

“I’m so confused,” you said, “can we got back to the bit where you kiss me again?”

She chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your jaw. The anger had been replaced with something softer, the kind of look that you were more used to seeing directed your way from her. You melted under her touch.

“Look, I had a plan that involved inviting you over and cooking. That human skid mark ruined it but he should have known better. I’m the only one who gets to think those things about you,” she said.

“You think those things about me?” you asked.

Her eyes darted to the side.

“Sometimes.”

“What sort of things do you think?” you asked, tugging on her hips until she was flush against you.

“I might have thought about pinning you to my kitchen counter and eating something…” Her gaze swept down your body, making heat bloom within you, “sweet.”

“You better be planning on following through with those thoughts,” you murmured, “otherwise I’ll be very disappointed.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she whispered, lips pulling up into a smile.

“Then I guess I am your girl.”

You kissed her, deep and longing. Her tongue swept in, sending your thoughts spiralling until there was nothing but her. She seemed to delight in the way you moaned into her mouth, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Alright,” she mumbled against your lips, “tonight. My place. Now get outta here before I do something stupid like bending you over my desk.”

“Now who’s outta line,” you laughed.

She swatted at your ass as you walked out of her classroom. You threw a smile over your shoulder at her, only to find a soft smile already on hers. Your heart fluttered at the sight, your dreams seeming to have come true on a random Thursday.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti imagine

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charlieeenby · 2 months

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let me show you how to kill a man

the bat won't kill, it's a line he won't cross. his birds, however, are a different story

warnings and tags: murder, violence, injury

title from how to kill a man by bloody civilian

What everyone knows, is that Batman doesn’t kill. He can’t, or won’t, cross that line, and he doesn’t think that killing is the answer.

But he knows that it’s necessary sometimes, and while he’ll never kill, he knows that his children don’t share the same sentiment.

So when it comes down to it, he lets them, and over the years, he’s gotten a little more lax with that rule, trusting his children’s judgement of a situation, and when they need to, he turns his back, doesn’t acknowledge it, and let’s them do what they have to.

But he’s managed to keep it a secret from most, only a select few surviving his the feral sides every one of his children hid from most of the world.

A group of four men stood with their backs facing each other, knives and fists up, ready, for a fight.

But they wouldn’t get one. Batman dropped down from the rafters, but he seemed focused on the kids the men had placed in cages.

Before any of them could react, Nightwing dropped on top of one of them, snapping his neck in one fluid motion. Then he lunged for a second. The other two tried to attack him, but he was able to fend them off, on taking a blow to the face from an escrima stick, the other, a kick to the knee.

Nightwing snapped the neck of the man under him, then stepped to the one who’s knee he’s kicked in. He reached down and snapped his neck. Then he moved over to the fourth man, who swung his knife at him. Nightwing grabbed it, twisting it out of his hand, then stabbed him in the throat, no screams able to escape.

He stood, made sure there was no blood on his suit, then made his way over to Batman and the kids, helping his father get all of them home safe.

Afterwards, Batman asked him if the goons had been handled.

“Of course. Quick and quiet. Hood’s gonna take care of the rest.”

“Good. Let’s go home.”

“Batman doesn’t kill, which means you can’t stop me!”

Gordon growled under his breath, wishing at that moment that Batman did kill, because if someone didn’t kill this weeks psycho, he’d end up leveling the city a few months down the line.

When he looked over to Batman, he was surprised to see that the man had straightened up, hands relaxed at his sides. He had an odd expression on his face, on Gordon couldn’t quite read.

Then he said, very calmly, “You’re right. I don’t kill. I can’t stop you.” Gordon watched him put a hand on his belt for a brief second before dropping it to his side.

The rouge started cackling, ranting and raving about how he was going to be the first to beat Batman, but when he looked down at Batman, and saw the smirk on his face, he stopped.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he yelled, panic clear in his voice.

“I don’t kill, but he does.” Batman said.

“Who -” he was cut off by a gunshot and a bullet piercing his skull. Gordon looked up and found the Red Hood with a rifle.

“He killed almost an entire army, Batman!” Ra’s screamed. “He blew them up because I upset him.”

Batman leveled him with a blank look, but said nothing.

“You don’t kill. Are you going to just let your son kill of thousands of people?”

For a beat, Batman stayed quiet. Then he said. “I don’t let Red Robin do anything. He does what he wants, and you tried to blackmail and kill him. You threatened him, his friends and his family. What he did to keep them safe is not in my control.

“I don’t kill, but if he found it necessary, then I trust his judgement. I’m sure you’ll recover, Ra’s.”

Ra’s stared at him, and Batman turned and guided Red Robin and his team out of Ra’s’ palace.

“Batman, control your hell spawn!” Black Mask screamed, though it was cut off with a gurgle. Robin drove his sword through the crime lord’s throat, and Batman turned away, working through the files on the computer.

Robin came over to his side, blood on his face and sword.

Batman glanced at him, then said, “You have blood on your face. Please clean it off before we talk to the Commissioner.”

“Yes, Father.” Robin did as asked, making sure his face was clear of blood, then followed his father out of the hotel and onto the street where Gordon and his men were waiting.

“Batman. Are we clear to enter?”

“Yes. Black Mask is dead.” Batman said, handing over a flash drive to Gordon. “I have a copy as well.”

Gordon nodded slowly. “Dead?”

“He attacked Robin. Robin defended himself.” Batman said simply. Then he used his grapple gun to launch himself to a roof, Robin following closely behind.

“Okay, then.” Gordon said to himself, not sure how to react to that, especially after he'd seen Red Hood shoot a man after it seemed like Batman had given him the go ahead.

While Barbra was Batgirl, she was safety and a warm light for the victims they all saved together. She was inspiration for little girls. She was violence, sure, but she was comfort, too.

Tonight, she was all violence. She and Batman had arrived a moment too late, and she was angry. She wanted vengeance and she would have it. Not even Batman would stop her.

No one could stop her when she rose from that little girls body and stepped forward, pulling out the knife her father had given her for her birthday. No one could stop her when she lunged, blade plunging into the killer’s throat, tearing it open. Blood spirted, spraying across her face.

And no one stopped her.

When the man was dead, and she was the killer, she stepped back, and looked to Batman.

He had bundled up the dead girl, wrapped her in his cape and covered her face. And then he had waited for Batgirl to finish. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded once.

“Go back to the cave and clean up. I’ll handle this.” he spoke softly, and there was no anger in his tone.

“Okay,” she said, and that was that.

Cass, Steph, and Jason were thick as thieves, and these days, Bruce rarely sees one without the other, especially on patrol.

So it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Spoiler called in saying that she, Orphan, and Hood needed backup.

Batman responded to the call, Nightwing a minute behind. When he arrived, he could hear fighting in the alleyway, but no gunshots, which worried him. Hood was quick to fire his guns when his siblings were in danger, and of all the times for him to use them.

But the air didn’t echo, it was still, quiet.

Batman dropped into the alleyway in time to watch Spoiler yank a knife from Orphan’s shaking hand, spin on her heel, and plunge the blade into a man’s eye, grinning under her mask as he screamed.

Hood came up behind the man and pulled a batarang across his throat, blood spilling down his chest. Even though he couldn’t see Hood’s face, Batman had the distinct impression that he had a grin that matched Spoiler’s.

Not pausing to hesitate, Batman moved to Orphan’s side, making sure she saw him before pulling her into a firm embrace. It was then that he saw the half dozen other bodies in the alley, all dead.

He looked to Spoiler and Hood.

Spoiler spoke up. “They attacked Orphan. She couldn’t kill them, so we did.” there was no room for argument, not that he had one.

“Thank you.”

Looking down at Orphan, he realized she was still shaking. “Sweetheart, it’s over. You’re safe.” he tried to soothe, though he wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong.

A hand rose and signed, “I thought I’d have to kill them.”

The shaking made sense now. “No, sweetheart, you will never have to kill again. I swear. And even if you did, I would still love you. You��d still be my daughter. Nothing will change that.”

Orphan laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank, you, Dad.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

Batman stood on the rooftop, watching Spoiler go after her father, a flash of purple here and there the only sign of her.

Cluemaster was no match for the girl he claimed to be the father to. He’d only hurt her, sharpened the blade.

But Spoiler was who she was in spite of her father, not because of him.

She became the one to beat him so she could save people. And when Batman had found her, he’d helped her hone the skills she already had, helped her improve. And while he’d done that, he’d given her a home, a family, and most importantly, he’d given her love.

Now she was gutting her father, preventing him from causing anymore suffering.

And when she swung up to the roof Batman was on and saw him, she ran to him, ran into his arms, and clung to him.

“He’s gone, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you or anyone ever again. You’re safe.” he whispered, holding her gently. “I’ve got you.”

While the other’s killing had never surprised Batman, Signal came as a slight surprise. But only slight. He was a bright, warm light, often reminding his family of the sun.

But the sun was fire, and fire burns. So when Signal came face to face with the Joker only a few months after losing his parents, Batman wasn’t sure what to expect.

When Signal caught sight of Joker, he snarled, and tensed up, ready to fight. The Joker had cackled and started taunting Signal.

Red Hood was about to step in when Signal grabbed Hood’s gun and fired every round into the Joker’s head, until his face was obliterated and unidentifiable. Then he’d dropped the gun and fell to his knees.

Batman stepped up next to him and set a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “He’s dead, Signal. It’s over.” he said, voice as gruff as ever.

“I know.”

For a moment, they were all quiet, not sure what to do. Then Batman offered a hand to Signal and helped him up. “You good?” he asked, looking his son over.

Signal didn’t answer right away, but then he said, “I will be… thank you.”

Batman smiled. “Of course.”

Of all the times for his children to start killing people, now was the worst time. He couldn’t just ignore it because the Justice League was here. So Batman was not having a good time.

“Batman,” Flash started, voice shrill. “Nightwing just tore a man’s head off.”

To his left, Orphan snickered, not that anyone would know aside from him, but she did. Batman sighed.

“I saw that, Flash, thank you.” What was he supposed to do?

“Batman, almost all of your… children are actively killing people. Signal and Orphan are the only one’s who aren’t.” Superman said. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

Batman looked at him. He hesitated.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Superman was an inch away, worry clear on his face.

On his right, Signal cleared his throat. “I feel like it’s a good time to point out that one, the people they’re killing are all of the rapists that have ever existed on earth, come back to life, and two, no one else is doing anything about it.”

Batman grinned. Well, the corner of his mouth ticked up, but it may as well have been a grin with the way Superman stared at him.

“Batman?” he asked incredulously.

“Hn?”

“Do something!”

Batman tilted his head, grunted, then walked over to the ledge they were all on. “Hey!” he yelled and the fighting stopped, all of his children stopping and staring at him. “Superman wants you to stop killing.”

For a good thirty seconds, no one moved or said anything. Then on the comms, Batman heard Hood snort.

“B, will you please tell Superman to, respectfully, get fucked?” Nightwing said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Batman grunted, then turned to the League. “Superman, Nightwing told me to tell you to get fucked. Respectfully.” he said, deadpan. Then he walked back to where he was standing.

Bonus:

It had been twenty years since the Wayne’s brutal murder in that alley way, ten since Batman had started, and one since Dick had joined the family. Today, someone was breaking into the manor.

Alfred sighed as he loaded his shot gun. This would be messy to clean up, but he never missed and he didn’t share the same sentiment as his son.

So he after he finished loading it, he stepped into the hallway, moving silently towards the living room. Must be idiot intruders, thinking there’d be anything to take there.

When he stood in the doorway of the room, he raised his riffle, counted the men – there were three – then spoke.

“Hello.”

They all spun around staring wide eyed at the shot gun.

Alfred grinned. “Goodbye.” he fired three shots in quick succession, all three of them dead. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Bruce flew around the corner, panic on his face.

“Nothing to fret over, Master Bruce.” Alfred said calmly. “I’ve handled it. The mess will be cleaned up before breakfast. Now go back to bed, dear boy.”

Bruce gave him an odd look, eyeing the shot gun, then nodded and went back to bed.

In the morning, when Bruce looked into the living room, it was spotless, nothing out of place. No one said anything about it.

#batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbra gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #tw murder #tw gun violence #tw stabbing #tw blood #tw violence #alfred pennyworth #justice league #my work

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randomperson3736 · 2 months

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I don't know why I bite

Paring(s): Bruce wayne x son! Reader, batboys x brother! Reader, justice league x male! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood, murder,child abuse, child testing, needles, trauma, knife's,katanas, crying

Genre: angst,sad, fluff at the end

Summary: people always believed that you were a violent person who bites at any second but deep down you were just an broken boy.

Word bank: M/N- male name

Ever since you were younger, you were taught to believe that you were nothing more than an experiment, an play thing.... a weapon. Your real father believed in nothing but cruelty and power and without those two things you were an weakly who should be cast aside to be forgotten.

When you turned 5, you started your training. Day by day, night by night you did nothing but train. No time for sleep, food, water, playing with other children your age. Not one thing an normal 5 year old should be doing. And if you did get caught doing anything but your training.... it wasn't an very beautiful and painless sight to see or hear.

Once you got to the age of 7, you were already a trained killer. Skills of any weapon, combat and the soul of a heartless monster. Your body and heart were built or more trained so you would never feel pain or react to it. If you were shot? No reaction. You were stabbed? No reaction. It was as if you were a robot. A shell of someone who had no heart or a soul.

By 10 you had already killed over a thousand people. Women, children, men, older people. Your hands were already stained with so much blood at an age no one would think would be capable of doing so. And no matter how many times you washed your hands even enough for them to be red raw or bleed.... you would always feel the dripping pain of their blood. Your father made you do it and God help if you refused.

He had an game were he would drag you to an chair, strap you down with chains and inject an liquid which made you feel the worst pain to ever exist. It was like your skin was burning off from your bones on the inside of your body. Every organ in your body exposing. It was like death itself. He would do it every day until you obeyed his cruel, Sinful wishes.

Eventually, you were some how saved by the justice league at 17. They had found out about what your father was doing to you and to others and put an stop to it. Though, you didn't go so willingly as they had hoped. You may have given them a few broken bones, added some more new scars to their bodies before Bruce sedated you. You were placed in an clear cell in the justice league HC, watched 24/7 day and night. You tried for weeks on end to break the cell but nothing you did made even a scratch nor a dent.

Bruce tried to get through to you and help clear your mind of your father's cruel training he had drilled into your mind for years. But nothing he said or did changed your mind or behaviour. It almost go to the point where you tried to break your own arm to escape from the cell. Bruce and the other league members all felt pain and anger at the fact someone would do this to someone so young. How could someone be so twisted in the head to actually do this to an child? The thought was in their heads ever since they saved you.

But after 8 long months Bruce finally made an breakthrough with you. It was small, yes, but it was something. It meant you were moving past your fathers training and becoming your own person. After that, you started to show some improvement where you could be trusted to be let out of your cell and talk to other outside of the justice league. The first being the batboys- Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian.

Surprisingly,you actully got along with Damian the most since you both had similar childhoods and shared similar interests. Jason and Tim helped you understand the modern world and how it worked. While Dick alway tried to make you laugh or smile though it never worked since you never felt joy or love before. Your face was always blank and emotionless. But the boys and the league never gave up hope that some day you would be able to smile brightly.

Over time, Bruce officially adopted you and you moved into the Manor with everyone else. It was strange at first for you to have your own room and have the choice to pick whatever you wanted. You never had that before so you didn't know how to act towards it. Bruce and the boys noticed after a few days of you living in the Manor that you still had some walls up and were worried you would lose all of your progress.

They would usually find you in the batcave trianing non-stop, even when your knuckles were bleeding from hitting the punching bag so hard to the point that it would break. You never felt the pain nor noticed the blood until Dick or Alfred mentioned something and helped bandage your wounds. This was all strange to you. It wasn't right for you. It was weird. You were trained to think that pain was nothing. That blood was nothing.

Now, you were sitting at the dinning table with everyone staring at you with worried gazes. You had bandages all around your body from your overstepping training, you held dark bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep you had gotten and you were starting to push away from them all. Bruce soon cleared his throat as he looked at you from his sit at the table. "M/N.... we need to talk about your.... behaviour and how you've been acting the past few weeks.... it's worrying us all..."

Dick was tge next to speak. "You've been training more harder lastly to the point your covered in cuts and bruises.... you barely sleep anymore or talk to us.... you're pushing us away." Dick's voice broke slightly as he was holding back his emotions. You clenched his jaw as he avoided everyone's eyes. "I'm.... fine...." he grumbled out almost in an annoyed tone.

Jason clenched his fists, his anger and worry was raising high as he heard you speak. "You're not fine, damn it!" He yelled out. "You're hurting yourself more and more! It's worrying us to death!" Jason breathed heavily as Tim patted his shoulder gently as a way to tell him to calm down. "Your not that person anymore M/N..... your away from that man.... your safe here with us." Tim's words were soft yet since filled with worry.

It was almost like everyone's words made something snap inside you and caused you to slam your fists down on the table in anger. "Shut up! Just shut up all of you!" You growled out as you glared at them with cold eyes. "I know what I'm doing! I've been doing it my whole life! It's nothing new to me!" Your emotions were getting the best of you now. "I was trained to be an weapon. It's programmed into me. I can't just get rid of it so easily! I was made this way!"

Tears pooled in your eyes for the first time and it shocked everyone. "I have killed countless people because of my father and I have to deal with that on my own..... I was made to do unspeakable things because of that bastard and I have to live with it all." Everyone looked at you with sad eyes as they listened to your words. "People thought of me as some heartless monster who was some lap dog for my father.... they believe I liked to fight and kill but it's just not true.... sometimes I'll lose my temper and blow off a little steam by training but I've never enjoyed it...." Tears flowed down your cheeks as your voice broke, "I'm not a violent person.... I don't know why I bite....."

In an heartbeat, Bruce pulled you into his chest holding you close as you sobbed out all the emotions you have been hiding for years on end. "Shhhh..... you're okay..... it's not your fault M/N...." Bruce rubbed your back in hoped to comfort you. "That man was a sick person who believed in nothing but cruelty and pain..... but your not that person..... you're a kind, sweet boy who is learning to overcome his past and become an better person for himself." He pulled you face from his chest so he could look you in the eyes. "You are loved here M/N.... you are my son and I won't ever let anything like that happen to you again I swear it..." he smiled warmly at you, hoping you'll calm down and understand his words.

You looked at Bruce as more tears formed in your eyes, but they weren't anger or sad tears like before.... they were happy ones as you smiled small at Bruce in returned which made tears form in his own eyes as well. You hugged him tighter as your head laid on his chest. "Thank you...... dad...." you muttered out causing his heart to melt slightly. You were finally letting your walls down and showing some type of emotion. Everyone was proud of you in that moment as they soon moved forward into a group hug.

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

Reason

(Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: things go wrong when you try to cross a small city. joel almost gets himself killed and you finally confront him about why he never seems to trust you with anything

Tags: angst and fluff, probably a little ooc, a bit of humor, love confession

Warnings: mentions of violence and wounds (but nothing very graphic), age gap, swearing

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: this is my first fic ever published so i'm kinda nervous but i couldn't stop thinking about this guy. english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. hope you enjoy <3

Joel was acting like nothing was wrong.

Which wasn't exactly anything new, really. Ever since you knew the man, he always had this rough exterior, that ‘do not fuck with me’ aura around him, and was never, ever, one for showing emotions.

Back in the QZ, when he and Tess sometimes let you hang along with them to get a job done or sneak into the restricted territory, you saw how he burst, pent-up and concealed emotions spilling out of him at long last when something went horribly wrong. He had never aimed his yells at you, though, even when it was clearly your fault that someone noticed you or you fucked up your part of the job.

Just like today. You weren't exactly to blame this time – something heavy fell over around the corner of the building you were sneaking by, and the thug looking for you three spotted you as you were ducking behind a car. Shit like that often happened when you had to work in the ruins of the old world.

Then you got separated from Ellie and Joel when the gang shot at you. All of you saw before that the street was blocked and you were practically surrounded. You barked at the pair to get out of here and that you’ll join them later, and ran in the direction of the ravaged stores, hoping to find a way around the blockade.

You remembered bullets firing at you and missing your head by centimeters. You remembered shooting and killing some of the guys chasing you, then screaming when you bumped into one of them and they grabbed you. The kicks to your stomach, the struggle, some nasty comments made by the thugs before you managed to stab one of them through the cheek. You remembered faces contorted in fury and a man lifting a gun to your head.

In that brief moment, you were glad it was you who was about to die. Better you than–

The man who was about to shoot you dropped his pistol after a loud bang pierced the air and he fell to the ground, dead. Others were soon to follow, too slow in drawing their own guns. It was Joel, of course, all bloodied and livid, blasting a head after head of the guys who were trying to hurt you. You were pinned face down to the floor and couldn’t do anything but watch as he fought them with only his knife and bare hands, as the corridor he was in was too narrow to make use of the gun without it catching on a wall or his clothes. You struggled and tried to break free, unable to bear the sight of the men’s blood mixing with his own from the growing number of cuts on his skin.

The thug holding you down apparently decided to finish you off, but didn’t have a chance before Joel tackled him to the ground, receiving another long gash below his ribs. For one terrifying moment you were sure he was stabbed in the chest and your whole world stopped. But the grunts and curses coming from the spot where Joel was knocked down on the ground quickly told you that he was fine.

You saved Joel just in time, driving a sharp shard of metal into his attacker's neck. After that the older man quickly looked you over, asking if you were hurt, and when you told him no, he grabbed your arm and led you to where Ellie was waiting.

All of you managed to get out and it didn’t seem like the gang was following you anymore. Excluding a couple of cuts and scrapes you all were fine and alive, which had to be a goddamn miracle.

That didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely furious.

Joel knew it and you suspected that’s why he was so insistent about walking in total silence, sending you and Ellie angry glares every time either of you opened your mouth. You were shooting daggers at his back as he walked in the front and even Ellie had to sense the tense atmosphere, for she was unusually quiet.

You knew Joel Miller was a protector at heart. That, among other things, was what made you care for him more than anyone else in your life, more than you’d care for a companion or even a friend. His caring, gentle nature hidden from the world under the rough exterior was what ultimately made you fall for him.

But no matter how attractive and admirable you found him, it drove you up the fucking wall that he never listened to you, never let you do anything even slightly risky or dangerous, like he always expected you to mess up. He didn’t even want you to sneak outside the QZ with him and Tess, and it was the other woman who finally convinced him.

You hated the thought that he might see you as a daughter, or worse - a burden. But the age gap between you two seemed bigger and bigger every time he did something like that, going after you because he didn’t trust you to get the job done.

And you hated it.

Only when the place you’ll spend the night in was picked and Joel took off his backpack with a wince of pain, you marched over to him and shoved his chest in frustration. Even though he was tired and hurt, he still towered over you and was much heavier, which made taking your anger out on him extremely difficult.

“The hell you're doing?” he asked incredulously, looking almost surprised at the fury painting your face.

“Don’t you ever think about doing something like that again, Joel!” you yelled at him, knowing you’re too far for any unwanted ears to hear you screaming. “I fucking told you to take Ellie and run! Why the hell did you come back?!”

“You’d prefer me to leave you behind and let those bastards do whatever sick things they wanted to do? A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

Okay, now you were seething. You clenched your jaw and pushed him again, feeling honestly so fed up with his bullshit.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?! You almost fucking died, not to mention you put Ellie in danger, too!”

“Hey, I was safe!” Ellie chimed in, straightening from the place she was sitting in on her sleeping bag. “And there wasn’t actually–”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her short harshly, making it clear it’s not the time for her usual sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about grumpy old men, turning their back to them.

You huffed and turned around, going deeper into the woods. Joel said your name but when you didn’t react he went after you with long strides, grabbing your arm and halting you.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“You know damn well what’s going on!” You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “I told you to go and you didn’t listen, like always, and probably had to hack your way through the whole group of these idiots just to almost get yourself killed because of me!”

“Did you really expect me to leave you behind?” he asked with his voice raised.

“Yes! At that moment it wasn’t about me, I was thinking about Ellie and you! She’s way more important than I am! You’re more important!”

“Don’t you dare say somethin–”

“Do you think I’d be able to take Ellie across the country without getting any of us killed?!” You threw your hand to the side, huffing with anger. “I don’t have your skills and experience. You’re the only one able to handle it on your own, so if any of us is to die, it will be me, no questions asked.”

“Like hell it’ll be you!” He was seething now, too, and he came up to you in two long, angry strides, stopping just before he could stomp on your shoes. Suddenly you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “I am not fucking letting you get yourself killed! Not now and not ever.”

“Can’t you just think logically for a second?!” you shouted in his face, tears of rage and helplessness gathering in your eyes. “I’m a goddamn burden to you both! Yes, it was me who alerted them of our presence and I understand that’s probably why you never trusted me…” Actually saying those words out loud was more painful than you anticipated and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It’s just, I can’t fight like you can, I’m not as valuable as Ellie, I…”

You had to press your lips together not to sob accidentally. Although you knew you had to make your point across, you still didn’t want Joel to see how weak you actually are.

“But I’m not fucking useless, understand?” you said sternly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I am gonna help you both go as far as possible, but if we’re ever in that kind of situation again, you’re leaving me behind and I’m buying you and Ellie as much time as I can.”

His expression hardened and he started to shake his head, but you beat him to it.

“I know you never wanted me to go on any missions with you, but just once let me be useful, alright? Even if all I can do is buy you a couple of precious minutes.”

“By letting yourself die.”

He said it with such finality and disbelief, all your anger got swept off and replaced by weariness. You sighed heavily and leaned against a tree.

“Yes, Joel. I know you’d rather not lose anyone else, but if I have a chance to help those I care about…” You realized you said too much and shook your head. “I don’t understand why it is such a big deal for you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His warm brown eyes were on you and for the first time ever you wished he'd look away. You turned your head and sighed again.

God, you were so very tired.

“I’m going to look for some firewood. You go check if the place is safe, alright?”

“No, listen–”

“Just this once, Joel,” you cut him off, not turning around. The tears that have gathered in your eyes before were threatening to spill down your cheeks and you weren’t going to show him how much this situation has pained you. “Just this once, drop it. Please.”

This time he didn’t stop you when you wandered further away from the camp and you truthfully didn’t know if it was better or worse.

*****

The rest of the evening went by mostly in silence. Ellie tried to lighten up the mood by reading some bad jokes from her book and though Joel was his usual grumpy self, it actually helped you a little. The girl seemed pretty proud of herself about making you crack a smile, but her efforts to bring Joel into the conversation came to naught. The smile disappeared from your face every time your eyes met and he looked away.

He almost didn’t say a word throughout your meal and preparing for bed, only muttering something under his breath when Ellie told you both goodnight. You were so tired that you managed to fall asleep almost immediately despite the worry and sadness gnawing at you when your thoughts drifted to the man laying on the opposite side of the fire.

When you opened your eyes again, the dawn was only just breaking. The air was cold and crisp, and you groaned, shivering and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, only to realize something else was draped over your form.

You rubbed your eyes and noticed the familiar green jacket covering your torso. Its owner was a couple of feet away, sitting with his back to you on a big log. The rifle lay next to him, propped up against the fallen tree. Your shoulders slumped at the sight of him and you remembered your argument from last night. You almost laid back down, but ignoring his act of kindness felt wrong, so with a quiet sigh you stood up, making your way to where he was sitting.

Joel glanced to the side when you approached and his gaze was instantly drawn to his jacket you wrapped around yourself.

“You were shivering,” he muttered, apparently knowing what you were about to ask. He said it as if giving you his jacket was the most sensible thing to do in a situation like that.

Was that an attempt to say he’s sorry for how he reacted earlier? You decided not to question his intentions too much and instead sat down next to him, nailing your eyes on the patch of recently disturbed ground.

“Thanks,” you replied under your breath, still not looking at the man. “But you didn’t have to. You’re probably cold now.”

“M’not.”

Liar. Stubborn as always.

None of you said anything else for a long time. You contemplated whether you should just go back to your sleeping bag and leave his jacket on the log, or stay and try to defuse the tension between you two. Somehow neither of these options appealed to you but it was so difficult to just sit here in silence and–

“I’ve been thinkin' about what you said,” Joel spoke up suddenly and very quietly, which interrupted your dwelling. “And I couldn’t stop remembering how damn sure you sounded when you said I don’t trust you.”

A wave of uneasiness washed over you and you wrapped his jacket tighter around yourself. “It’s okay that you don’t,” you said slowly, not really sure what he was getting at. “I mean, I’m not sure if even I would trust my–”

“That’s the thing,” he interrupted you with an irritated sigh and turned his head to look at you with his brows furrowed. “I do trust you. I just have no clue how…” Another sigh. “How I could’ve fucked up so badly that you’d think that.”

You blinked several times, not sure if you weren’t still dreaming after all. It kind of felt like a dream when he was sitting so close to you, his jacket around your shoulders and a rising sun painting his hair in a golden light.

“But you never let me do anything important or dangerous on my own,” you contradicted quietly, which caused Joel to drop his head loosely and close his eyes. “You’re always against taking me with you anywhere, and–”

“That’s because you’re important to me!” he cut you off, evidently louder than he intended, because he immediately glanced at you and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just hard for me to understand how… how did…”

Joel seemed at a loss for words and you longed to touch him, to take the burden of carrying the conversation from his shoulders and ease the weariness on his face, but you weren't really sure what he intended to say. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it almost sounded like…

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he said softly at last and you could pinpoint the exact moment you stopped breathing. Joel’s eyes were closed and he was propping his forehead on his hand, and he looked so… sad. “That’s why I never wanted you to take any risk, because if something happened to you and I weren’t there to protect you…”

He swallowed heavily, inhaled, then straightened up and looked over at you. The look he gave you was so tender and open, it was almost difficult to focus on his words.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered, and you remembered what slipped out of your mouth when you were arguing earlier. “A lot. Much more than I should, but I can’t… I can’t help it.” He turned to look forward, his eyes narrowing from the sunlight creeping from between the trees, and he looked so beautiful in that moment, you wished you had a camera on hand.

“Joel,” you breathed, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t want to make shit weird between… us.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “So don’t feel pressured into sayin’ anything. Just don’t expect me to idly stand by while you’re risking your life because–”

“Joel,” you repeated, louder this time, which finally made him shut up.

“What?”

You didn’t really know what you were going to say. You just wanted him to stop talking because he was only torturing himself with this ramble and you couldn’t bear it.

Very slowly, and very gently, you took Joel’s hand in your own and moved it over to your lap. Ignoring his eyes on you, you traced the length of his calloused fingers and brushed the center of the palm where a cut from a couple of days ago was still healing. Your heart was beating so damn loud in your ears, you wouldn’t hear if a parade of clickers just walked past you both, but with all your might you tried to keep your breathing steady and your face from going beet red.

He said you were important to him. That he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He didn’t see you as a burden as you feared, so maybe… maybe he didn’t view you as a kid, as well.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you laced your fingers together and brought them to your lips, leaving a small kiss on his bloodied knuckles. Joel tensed in a split second and you weren't sure if he was still breathing, but you didn’t look at him in fear that his expression may take away the remnants of your temporary courage.

“If I misread you, this is gonna be painfully awkward,” you mumbled in a feeble attempt to defuse the tension in the air, so thick it was almost choking you. “But I’m still grateful you told me all thi–”

His other hand – the same hand he was ready to kill and protect with, with which he was ready to tear his way through the mass of enemies just to save you – lifted itself to your face and cupped your cheek. Joel was looking at you with wonder, the fingers you cradled in your own twitching slightly as if he was holding back from tightening his hold. His eyes seemed like they were made out of liquid gold in the light of the morning sun and he looked at you with such adoration that you once again humored the thought that it was just all some cruel, vivid dream.

But no, it couldn’t have been. Not when Joel’s skin was so cold against your burning face and not when his eyes flickered to your lips…

It was you who leaned in first, but once your lips touched, Joel took the reins, untangling his fingers from yours to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer.

You expected him to be rough and confident, just like he was during a fight, to take what he wanted and devour you – at least that’s how you always imagined kissing him would be like. What you didn’t expect, however, was a trembling sigh that escaped him when you two parted for a moment to take a breath and a gentle touch of his fingertips along your jaw. His hold on your body was by turns firmer and more loose, like he was afraid he’d scare you off if he let himself use too much strength.

You, on the other hand, had no reservations in taking his face in your hands firmly and parting your lips, encouraging him to go on. It seemed to work at first, because Joel pulled you in even closer, letting you crawl onto his lap, but then he stopped abruptly and moved you gently away, still keeping his hands on both sides of your face.

“Darlin’, I need to know if you’re sure about this, because I won’t be able to…”

You pressed your lips to his again, this time much slower and more delicate, in an attempt to silence him. Joel finally relaxed when you cupped his face and planted a kiss on his brow, always so furrowed in concern and worry.

“Joel, I wanted you to kiss me for the whole time I knew you. I really, really care about your bullheaded skull.” You looked down at him with a playful smile, to which he chuckled. “Though you’re shit at sending signals. I was sure you hated me.”

“Well, you are hard to deal with sometimes,” he mused in a teasing tone and you jabbed him in the stomach before he managed to grab your wrist. “But I… I'm sorry that I made you feel this way. Like you didn’t matter to me.”

You furrowed your brows at the uncharacteristic vulnerability and sadness in his voice and your worry must’ve etched itself in your eyes because when Joel looked at you, he turned away and closed his eyes immediately.

“Listen, you know now you matter to me more than anyone else in this cursed world. I don’t want to ever be as worried sick about you like I was yesterday,” he whispered. You brushed some hair off his face and the creases on his forehead softened a little. “And I don’t ever want you to think you’re not important. You’re… fuck, you’re the goddamn reason I’m doing all this. You're my reason, you hear me?”

You just nodded with a wide smile that threatened to split your face in half.

“I understand,” you answered, just as quietly. “You’re also the reason I’m doing all of this for.”

This time it was unclear who initiated the kiss. Nevertheless, you ended up held tightly in his arms, marveling at his touch on your skin and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours, and there wasn’t any other place you wished to be in.

It lasted just a couple of seconds though, because you were interrupted by the sound of fake barfing and gurgles of disgust coming from the direction of your camp.

“Gross!” yelled Ellie loudly, but she had a shit-eating grin on her face when she squinted at Joel holding you in his lap. “Don’t suck faces when there are children present!”

“Shut up!” Joel yelled back, but without any bite in his tone. A soft smile played on his lips when he looked back at you. “She’ll be insufferable now,” he murmured and you snorted at how done he sounded. He mirrored your expression and held your hand to his face to kiss your fingers tenderly, which made Ellie gag even louder.

“If you start making out in front of me, I won’t hesitate to throw a fucking sandwich at you!”

“She won’t,” muttered Joel, not even turning to the teen before he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.

You smiled into the kiss, barely noticing stale pieces of bread flying over Joel’s shoulder.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller #featuring our badass queen #ellie williams #the last of us fic #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #beary writes

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tmpestuous · 2 years

Text

One Step at a Time

summary: when you get brutally injured on a mission with no way to contact anyone, bucky goes out to find you.

pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: angst, slight protective!bucky, mentions of death and killing, mentions of torture, blood, injuries, trauma, injured!reader

a/n: here’s another avenger!reader one shot from the long list of ideas i have… i’m thinking of making them all connected so it’s the same reader from six days (: i promise my next fic won’t be so depressing i apologize

Trying to fight off the hand currently clasped over your mouth, you were only repeatedly unsuccessful. Steve hadn’t seen you get dragged off, turning around and panicking immediately.

You could hear his calls for your voice become increasingly faint as the men dragged you to a secluded room you assumed Steve wouldn’t be able to access.

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is, Steve?” Bucky sat, still in his disheveled state from being woken up abruptly by Sam for an emergency meeting.

“Buck, wake up man,” Sam said, clasping Bucky’s shoulder lightly and shaking him a bit.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Bucky wondered what could possibly be so important this early in the morning. He never got much sleep when you went on your missions, feeling the bed to be a little too empty and thus, leaving him lonely with his thoughts.

Looking at the clock, it read 4:17AM.

Looking back at Sam, Bucky knew something wasn’t right. Sam’s usual, playful nature replaced with one that looked remorseful.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked hesitantly. “Everything okay?”

“It’s Y/n, Buck,” Sam responded, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. He looked nervous, almost as if it was his fault. “She’s missing. Steve wants to have a meeting with us.”

“What do you mean she’s missing?” Bucky said calmly, though he most certainly felt his heart drop from his chest.

Sam was just as distraught as Bucky in the meeting, bobbing his knee up and down in his seat. He had told you Steve was swapping with him for the mission, second guessing himself after taking it up in the first place. You were upset he wasn’t joining you, having been the only person you trusted enough to go on missions alone with besides Bucky since you recovered from the explosion. It made him feel guilty that it had resulted in your disappearance.

It had taken you a while to feel comfortable enough to start participating in any missions, and even when you did, you always made the effort to stay in the same room as someone else. You couldn’t bear to be alone again, more than just fearful to end up in another situation where you had no idea what to do with no immediate help.

Plunging the knife into the chest of the last man, you exhaled a few shaky breaths.

You had been fighting these men for what felt like hours. One of them had managed to stab you in the side while you weren’t looking, and to your eventual disadvantage, you pulled it out of your suit and used it to deal with about ten other men on your own.

Staring at the last man only pushed you to look at the vast amount of bodies around you, about twenty of them laying in pools of blood everywhere, most of which you barely recalled finishing off.

You had experienced your fair share of moments with blind rage before, most of which came from your time with Hydra. But you made the effort never to kill someone. A vow you made to yourself, which was now broken.

Choking on a sob you didn’t realize was coming, you stood up and placed pressure on your stab wound before searching through the room for medical supplies. It was clearly a doctor’s room, one that reminded you of the office you spent a lot of time in while captured by Hydra.

Finding a first aid kit, you did your best to stitch and patch the stab wound with so little supplies. Once you were finished, you put the jacket of your suit back on, knowing it was freezing outside and you had to find some sort of shelter.

If there were more men coming to the building, the last thing you wanted to do was try to fight more of them off in your current state. You had hoped Steve made it out, now doing everything you can to do the same for yourself.

Finding a nearby exit, you walked out into the cool air.

It was gonna be a long walk.

Steve was still in his suit, dirt covering his face though it did nothing to mask his solemn expression.

He wasn’t sure how the two of you got separated. He was keeping a close eye on you since the last time you were paired together, things went bad. Hell, you almost died. Steve was simply starting to think he gave you bad luck when you were around him.

“I– I’m not sure,” Steve choked out, and he wasn’t lying at all. “We had made it inside and were met with some resistance, but we didn’t split up. We got caught up fighting and when I had turned around, she was gone. I didn’t leave her, Buck, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Bucky believed him, but he couldn’t help but overthink the fact that you’d been caught up in a bad place in the last two missions you’ve spent with Steve. It was his best friend and, of course, he knew he’d never have ill intentions with you.

He just hoped you were okay.

“It’s okay, Steve,” he reassured. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

God, you had hoped they’d somehow find you.

You swore you’d been walking in circles for ten hours, searching for the safe house Tony had informed you and Steve was near where your mission was taking place.

You were so tired. You had barely managed to fight off all of the maniacs who had tried to hold you captive in the old Hydra base you and Steve were assigned to get rid of. You recognized a few of them from your days in the organization, but it took you a lot longer to fight them on your own after getting stabbed in the side and a few hits to the head.

You had never done any killing with Hydra, seeing as they never got you to commit to it, but something had triggered you to kill almost all of them. The only ones who didn’t reap such consequences were the ones who had ambushed you and Steve when you both had found an entrance into the building.

You felt sick to your stomach because of it, along with all the energy being drained from you slowly but surely with every step you took towards nowhere at this point. You had lost your transponder somewhere in that god-forsaken building, so on top of losing Steve, it wasn’t like anyone back at the compound could track your location either.

Steve.

You assumed he’d started to look for you after you lost each other, but you had no idea if he was still in this general location. He might’ve stayed or gone back to the compound to tell the others you were missing.

It genuinely wasn’t his fault you got separated, and you’d only hoped he knew that. Someone who might not know that, on the other hand, is Bucky. You then hoped he wouldn’t give Steve a hard time, not wanting them to have any more tension than the last time you suffered while paired up with his best friend.

“She still has to go to the debrief, Bucky,” Steve pushed. “It’s been long enough and we’ve pushed past protocol longer than we ever have.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk about it, Steve? We all went to debrief, why does she have to do it too?”

“She experienced what none of us did,” the blonde countered again. “No one knows what happened in that room but her. We need every detail.”

Reluctantly, Bucky gave in. But he regretted it the second things were rough in the meeting.

“You have to remember, Y/n,” Steve tried to encourage you, but it wasn’t really working.

“I told you I never found where it came from, I’m not making that up,” you defended.

“You said you didn’t remember if you found where it came from.”

“The last thing I remember was seeing one blink of a red light before the explosion. I don’t remember if it was actually the source or something else. I never found it, Steve,” you urged softly.

Bucky was getting irritated. You hadn’t talked much to him about what happened because you hated how you felt afterwards, and now you were sitting here getting interrogated by Steve who hadn’t been there every step of your recovery.

“Y/n–”

“I think that’s enough, Steve,” Bucky said before grabbing your hand and standing up. “We’re done here.”

Your recollection of the memory was short-lived when you felt your suit starting to feel a lot wetter than before, peeking down to see it staining with fresh blood which means your wound had reopened. Limping towards what looked like an empty house, seeming freshly abandoned, you winced at the pain in your side. Walking up to the front door, you quickly jammed it in, glad to feel warmth in contrast to the cold air from outside.

Looking around to see if anyone was inside, you found yourself alone. Settling on a first aid kit from the bathroom, you plopped yourself on the couch and ripped the jacket of your suit off, almost peeling it with the dried blood making it stick to your skin a bit.

You did your best to restitch and patch the stab wound, but you knew you’d certainly have to redo it in a few hours. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, likely from the loss of blood and lack of nourishment. Trying your best to stay awake didn’t work as well as you hoped, but you held on for as long as you could.

Back at the compound, Bucky was packing everything he possibly needed. He didn’t know how long it was gonna take to find you, but he sure as hell knew he wouldn’t stop searching until he did. He had told Steve it was best for him to stay for this one, knowing he was feeling the guilt of having you go lost in the first place.

Bucky heard a knock at his door, turning around to see Sam in his doorway.

“Ready to go?” he asked, seeing Bucky zip his bags.

“Let’s find her.”

It had been less than five hours since Steve had broken the news that he lost you. First, he told Bucky and Sam, knowing it’d be of most importance to them. Then the rest of the team had joined in on the meeting, immediately making plans on how to find her.

Sam, Natasha, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Thor had agreed to go with Bucky to help find you. Bucky had no problem going on his own, but Natasha assured that it’d be best for everyone to join in. They attributed your last known location to the last signal your transponder gave off, and thus decided to start there.

Steve waved them off as they left on the jet, but everyone was aware he’d be tracking from back at the compound.

Upon making it to the location of your mission and where they knew you had been at some point, they found your (now dead) transponder in the middle of a pool of blood. There were bodies everywhere, and Bucky had only grown anxious.

You had never enjoyed getting unnecessarily violent, and in that, you always reminded him of himself. He was aware Hydra hadn’t toyed with your head nearly to the extent they did with him, but it was enough to do some damage.

You’d confided in him with all of your stories, never going into extreme detail out of compassion for his own experiences and not wanting to trigger him into those thoughts. However, he knew that you’d never killed anyone. Beaten some people beyond a general healing point, definitely, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take a life. Hydra had their fair share of punishments for you because of that but it hadn’t broken you to the point of reaching that point.

Seeing all the dead bodies scattered across the room, there had to be about twenty of them. Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but it undoubtedly scared him. If you were in that much trouble to cause such damage, he was worried about what state he’d find you in.

Seeing everyone make their way out of the room, Bucky shook the negative thoughts from his head. He didn’t want to distract himself from his priority: finding you, regardless of what state you’d be in.

“If she’s injured, she couldn’t have made it far,” Natasha stated, staring around at the outside of the building from an open window. “She might still be around here somewhere, maybe hid–”

Lights from a series of vehicles appeared outside. About four dozen Hydra men made their way towards the entrance of the building, murmuring about how they needed to find you before the Avengers did.

“We’ve got company, boys,” Natasha stated instead of finishing her previous thought.

Bucky made his way to the window, seeing that horrid insignia his memory would never let him forget. “Hydra. There’s more of them still around than I thought.”

“Cut a head off, two more take its place, huh?” Natasha recalled the organization’s motto. “We need to do this quickly, we don’t know how much time Y/n’s got and we still don’t know where she is–”

“Go,” Bucky said. “Go find her, I’ll handle them.”

“Buck, is that really the best ch–” Sam started.

“I said, go.”

“I’m sticking with you, everyone else can go.”

Bucky sighed before nodding in agreement. Natasha made her way out with Tony, Thor, and Clint, finding a back entrance. Bruce was still in the jet, tracking nearby buildings you could possibly be in. Thor, Natasha, and Clint decided to split up and search each one, Tony trying to find heat signatures that could somehow match yours.

Bucky and Sam made their way to the ground floor, watching all of the men surge in. Bucky loaded his rifle, Sam releasing Redwing to count how many men there were.

“There’s 40 of them,” Sam whispered loud enough for only Bucky to hear him.

“20 for each of us, huh?” Bucky adjusted his hold on his rifle from around the corner of the hallway. “If Y/n can do it, so can we.” Feeling a boost in confidence, Bucky started to make his move, knocking out a few men right away as Sam did the same.

He knew he couldn’t let anyone get to you before anyone from the team did, even if it meant letting the others go ahead of him. He felt a lot more calculated than he usually did, knowing your life (or death) was in the gamble of the entire operation.

You, on the other hand, were about to give up. Staying awake has never been this difficult, but with your pulse going faster by the second and the sudden chills you were feeling, you had a feeling this was it.

Your wound hadn’t opened at all in the last two hours, but you attributed it to pure luck at this point. The way you were feeling could only be coming from the gaping hole on the side of your torso, even covered.

You still tried your best to keep your eyes open, knowing you weren’t going to let yourself die cold and alone in the middle of nowhere. You felt awful, a few tears shedding from your eyes from how sick you were starting to feel. You wanted to sleep, but you were scared to go under and then not wake up.

Not to mention, you couldn’t sleep knowing the nightmares that were inevitably going to come. Feeling physically awful was one thing, but watching all those lifeless bodies fall to the floor after you killed them only made you feel worse. You couldn’t get the memory out of your head, only sobbing slightly to yourself thinking about it.

The thought that lingered even more in your head was how you were gonna tell Bucky. He knew you’d never resort to such drastic measures and you were afraid he’d look at you different once he found out.

If he even found you alive at this point.

The team had searched about 40 houses in the last two hours, eventually teaming up with Bucky and Sam who had dealt with all forty men in the span of half an hour. They even checked the safe house in case you had made it and passed out before communicating with them, but you weren’t there either.

“There’s only one house left on this entire street,” Bruce spoke through comms.

Bucky’s anxiety was only going sky high with every second they hadn’t found you yet. They had no idea what your condition was like and he was doing his best not to think of the worst possible scenario. He’d hoped the tricks he taught you while on missions with him had helped somewhat, like knowing how to stitch a wound or finding a safe place from danger.

Bucky’s racing mind was interrupted by Tony’s voice on comms; he had gone to check the house and determine if there was anyone inside.

“Heat signature matches Y/l/n’s, and it’s not looking too good,” he said as he landed back on the ground.

The team rushed over, Bucky running faster than he’d ever run before. Opening the door in a rush, he saw you laying on the couch, taking staggered breaths with your eyes closed. Everyone had walked in behind him, Natasha alerting Bruce that they had found you and telling him to prep the jet.

Bucky’s only focus was you. He placed his hands on your cheek, startling you enough to push him back before your eyes landed on him.

“Bucky?” you said, definitely not believing your eyes as you looked around and saw everyone else in the room.

Bucky approached you again slowly, not wanting to scare you further since you were probably in shock.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” he assured you as you stared him down frantically before you started to sob. “We came to take you home, alright? We’re going home.”

As the jet landed outside, Bucky picked you up in his arms. You instinctively curled up against him, hiding your cold face in the warmth of the crook of his neck. After everyone boarded, the jet made its way back to the compound.

Bucky had looked at your wound, replacing the dirty gauze for a clean one. You’d cried almost the entire ride, all of your emotions rushing in like a freight train.

It hurt Bucky to see you in such a state, knowing you were tired of all the losses in life. He knew exactly how it felt, but he’d also felt you deserved it much less than he did all those years. You didn’t kill anyone like he did, you didn’t ruin anyone’s life like he did, you didn’t make people scared of you. He tried to shake those thoughts from his head, knowing you’d scold him again for thinking so low of himself in comparison to you.

Running his hands through your hair, he stayed next to you the entire time, reassuring you that you were safe and soothing you as best as he could.

Once you all had arrived to the compound, it only got worse.

A gurney was waiting for you on the landing pad, which you didn’t want to be laid on, to begin with. Once they had strapped you down, your cries only got worse, screaming Bucky’s name out as they took you to the medical bay. Bucky wanted to follow, but Sam stopped him, saying it was best to do the debrief right away.

You refused to let anyone touch you unless Bucky was there, and the doctors in the medical bay were getting so frustrated, the only choice they had was to sedate you in the meantime. When they had finally patched up your wound properly, they left you to rest.

Rest was very much not in your cards, however, with your crying fits continuing and Bucky’s hearts breaking into about a million more pieces than before when he walked into your room to see you crying to yourself.

“Y/n…” he spoke softly, sliding into the bed with you carefully and pulling you into his arms, cautious enough not to hurt you further. Kissing the top of your head multiple times, he rubbed your arms up and down until your cries eventually stopped.

“Y-you’re gonna hate me, Bucky,” you said with a shaky voice. “I don’t want you to hate me when you find out what I did.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” he looked down at you, but Bucky was well aware what you were thinking of. “I could never hate you. Ever. Not after everything we’ve been through together, okay? Don’t ever say something like that.”

Bucky heard you sniffle and saw a few tears fall down your cheeks, heart aching at the fact that you might start sobbing again. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face from him in his chest.

The following days were still rough. Bucky felt lucky enough that you’d have your meals with him, but you didn’t feel like leaving your room. Steve had checked in with you and said you wouldn’t have to update anyone on what happened after you got separated. Not until you were ready to talk about it.

Bucky stayed with you more often, even after you pleaded with him to not tear up his schedule for you. He skipped out on a mission just so he could stay with you, which he assured you was okay because it meant his next mission would be with you.

The only way you got him to go back to his routine was to offer to train with him. He had asked you a million times if you were sure, knowing what most likely occurred back on your mission’s complication. Eventually, he gave in as he always did, but he knew he wasn’t going to rush you into anything.

Picking up your normal tools for your usual, more-intense sparring sessions you always had with Bucky, your hands started to shake. Bucky noticed and rubbed your shoulders smoothly.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he whispered lowly in your ear. “Just take it one step at a time, okay?”

You nodded up at him, putting your tools down. You thought it’d help to move slow, but the second you knocked Bucky down, you kneeled down next to him, anxiously asking if he was okay with tears in your eyes.

Bucky looked up at you quizzically, knowing you knew in the back of your mind somewhere that you couldn’t hurt him detrimentally from a normal sparring session.

He wiped your tears away as you stared at him with fear in your eyes, only making him feel even worse about you experiencing what you had experienced alone.

“Baby, hey,” he said as you shut your eyes and cried. “Look at me.”

Blinking a few times, you sniffled and looked down at him, completely uncaring of your tears that had fallen on his shirt.

“You could never hurt me, my love,” he rubbed your cheeks with his calloused thumbs, though it was the comfort you surely needed. “The only way you could hurt me is by breaking my heart and I know that’s not gonna happen anytime soon, right?”

You shook your head.

“Then don’t worry so much, baby,” he leaned up and kissed your lips softly. “I’m more than okay. You were just better than me. Let’s go shower and watch a movie.”

Standing up and lifting you up with a helping hand, you both walked back to Bucky’s room which was the closest. Stepping into the bathroom, Bucky let the water run from the showerhead so it could get warm. You stripped yourself of your clothes as he did the same, before getting into the shower.

After cleansing yourselves, Bucky rubbed your tense shoulders once again as you leaned into him.

“I killed them,” you muffled into his chest.

“Hm?” Bucky questioned, not quite hearing you over the running water and with your face down. Lifting your chin up to look at him, your eyes were puffy and red from all the crying you’d done all day. “You don’t have to talk about anything, Y/n. Okay? We can talk about it some other time.

Shaking your head, you sighed in faltered breaths. “I killed them, Bucky.”

Bucky looked at you with sorrow. He didn’t know how to tell you that he already knew, he didn’t even know if it was the right thing to tell you. All he did was brush your tears away and kiss your forehead, nose, then lips.

“You need to relax a bit, baby, okay?” he spoke in a soft tone. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Staring up at him in confusion, you shook your head again.

“You know already,” you confirmed to yourself, knowing Bucky too well to know he would usually ask if you wanted to talk further about something before putting it to bed. “You know I killed all those people.”

Bucky sighed, staring into your eyes before closing his and nodding slightly. “I do.”

“And you don’t look at me differently?” you asked, your voice a lot more calm and collected now. “I broke my promise, I didn’t even show them any mercy, Bucky—”

“Do you look at me differently knowing all the people I killed?” he interrupted, placing his flesh hand on your cheek and rubbing it slightly with his thumb. “You don’t, you never have. You knew who I was when you first got here and never looked at me differently. Why would I do that to you?”

“That’s different,” you countered. “You had no idea what you were doing, Bucky. I did.”

“You were defending yourself,” he retaliated, doing his best not to downplay your feelings. “If you hadn’t killed them, who knows what they would have done to you? It’s Hydra, they don’t care who they hurt or how they do it. If I were you, I would have done the same thing.”

He was right and you knew it. You laid your head back on his chest, scared to look him in the eye.

“I didn’t want you to look at me like I was broken,” you admitted. “I don’t know who I was when all of that happened and I just— it felt like I was trying to escape them all over again and I’ve never experienced that before. I was scared.”

“And that’s okay,” Bucky reassured you the same way he always had, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not broken, you’re just healing. There’s nothing wrong with that, baby.”

You sniffled again before leaning into him more. “Can you just hold me for now?”

Bucky kissed your head again, squeezing his arms around you in all the warmth he could possibly transfer.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

—

I promise this is the last of my desire to write angst with injuring the reader… thank you for reading!

tags: @jessybarnes

#bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader

3K notes · View notes

signedkoko · 6 months

Note

Hi! I love all your fics! I literally just read through all of them haha!

Could I get a mammon and blitzø (separate) with girlfriend Reader who’s really sweet and looks really innocent but doesn’t hesitate to get into a fight for their significant other?

I think that makes sense-

Could I be 🦷 (tooth) anon?

Thank you!

Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]

In which most people assume you to be extremely sweet, but in reality you are more of a stone cold killer.

He sort of sees through you when you first met

Not because he can figure that kind of thing out, but he just assumed everyone has a horrid side to them

Which in hell is inherently true

Blitzo thinks it's neat how easily people trust and melt into your words, and he finds it hard to resist doing so now that he can safely call you his

You are just so good as sugaring people up, it'd be hard to imagine that you were any kind of threat

But he found out how much of a threat you could be pretty fast

You played into his hands about how nice it felt to have someone talented with a gun around, and how safe he made you feel

But the moment someone tried to rob the two of you after a date, you had instantly pulled out a knife and stabbed the guy well over a hundred times

Blitzo thought that was very hot of you

You probably tricked him with your kindness when you first met

Not that it wasn't real, but there was certainly more to you than meets the eye

Mammon likes how good you make him feel, maybe feeding his ego a bit too much

He was never really a violent type, just more of an asshole, he isn't all that used to killing- not himself, at least, he would make others do it for him

And in the first few months of you two dating, he figured you were the same- maybe even purer, he wouldn't ever let you see him at his worst

He towers over most anyone, including you, and he likes how it scares others off from bothering you both

If it really came to it, he would kill anyone who touched you

And when someone tried to kill you both for some sloppy bounty, he was going to let the worst of himself out if it meant protecting you

Except faster than he could react, you pummelling the sinner with your fists and beat the shit out of them with the kind of fury you'd only see from a performer

He totally babies you for being such a protective sweetheart, and makes sure someone can kill the sinner off for good later

Probably forgets about that side of you every time because you are just so kind and you butter him up crazy

Author's Note - Welcome, tooth anon! I added you to my pinend <3 Thank you so much for requesting, I really hope you enjoy what ive written!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #blitzo #blitzo x reader

333 notes · View notes

lillylvjy · 5 months

Text

Be my (be my baby)

notes; hey! So this is long over due- was supposed to be part of Halloween but never got to it. Also this fic is a bit fucked up but, recently I’ve been doing research over horror movies and how they’re created and written. I’ve also done some analyzation over serial killers and criminals in college so I used all my knowledge to write this and- I hope you like it! And I know there is some plot holes and details missed, if people like this I’ll do another fic like this, it was super fun to write and yeah! Yes this is very inspired by Carrie and scream. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!!! If it’s not for you, don’t read it.

warnings; DEAD DOVE: do not eat!, murder, massacre?, blood, bleeding out, choking on blood, insanity, feeling good about killing someone, Simpbur low key manipulates reader a bit, someone tied up, reader stabs someone but doesn’t kill anyone, simp kills a shit ton of people, simp and you go insane at the end ngl, kissing, cheating?, bets, trying to sleep with someone, suggestive, and if I missed anything please tell me! This fic is already fucked up as it is so please tell me!

ALSO!!! I suggest 16+ for this! But I don’t control what you guys read so read with caution. And please for god sake, READ THE WARNINGS!

wc; 2.5k

who; Simpbur x reader

edited: yes. (As much as I could)

It all happened in a blur. One second you were laughing and dancing, and the next you were screaming and crying as random people started dropping to the floor, blood slowly seeping out of them.

Soon random people became almost the whole student body that attended. People scurrying to get out, none made it, the doors were locked.

Quickly running to the next close exit, you tried to push it open. And again. And one more time.

Locked.

You quickly looked around to see more people on the floor, gasping for air as the blood painted the gym floor, walls, bleachers. Looking across the gym from you, another exit, leading to the hallways. You quickly took off your shoes and ran like hell.

‘Why didn’t they come after you yet? What was this for?!’ Your mind screamed over the loud music still playing on the speakers. Of course the dance had to be Oldies but Goodies themed, with various fifty and sixty love and dance songs playing.

Running at the door with full impact, taking notice that you were the only one left really alive, busting the door open and looking both ways, one leading to the cafeteria and one leading to the back of the school. You took your chances.

You took a right to the back of the school, thinking it’d be an easier way out and hiding from whoever the fuck was doing this. As you ran, the music transferred to the speakers all over the school.

Be my baby by The Ronettes blasted as you heard an ear piercing scream be cut short by gasping and gurgling a couple feet away. Halting your run, panting but being as silent as you can, you slowly turn around and see a girl lying limp on the ground, blood pooling all around her as she stared blankly at the ceiling , life seeping out of her every second.

You placed a hand over your mouth to hold back sobs as you lean down and closed her eyelids, not wanting to look into the plain eyes anymore. The music felt like it got louder as your head pounded at everything going on. Where were the teachers? Where was all the trusted adults you were supposed to have? Or did they-

No. You needed to stop thinking and start running and finding an exit. Quickly getting up you, turned around and started jogging before turning right again and running into something, or someone.

You screamed as you hide yourself, getting ready for the sharp impact of a knife or something.

“Y/n? Oh my god-“ you heard the person say and arms engulf you into a hug. You quickly opened your eyes and pushed the person away so you could see them.

Wilbur.

Pulling him back into you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hid your face in his neck, wanting to hide from whatever the fuck was happening.

Wil has been your best friend since you were babies, both of your moms being best friends as well and wanting to have you both grow up with each other. That worked out as to see you both were inseparable since day 1, him being a couple months older than you. Now you didn’t know whether this would be your last time holding him or not.

“Wil, what’s happening?” You asked the tall man in front of you as he cupped your face.

“I don’t know but we better start going if we want to get out alive, I have a place we can go and hide, trust me?” Wil held his hand out for you to take as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Always.” You placed your hand in his as he nodded and started to run with you, side by side, desperately trying to get out of any situation that’d lead to be face to face with the person doing this.

As you ran, you saw each teacher attending the dance in their classroom, lying limp on their desk or sitting in their desk chairs with blood soaking their clothes and eyes still open. A shiver tan down your spine as you placed a hand over your mouth, holding back a sob.

Wilbur took a quick left turn up the stairs and dragged you to the last classroom in the hallway. The science lab.

As he turned and got into the classroom, he quickly stopped. You followed in shortly looking at him questionably.

“Wil what- oh my god, Luke!” You quickly rushed over once you saw him in the chair, a rag towel in his mouth and rope binding him to the chair. Luke was the guy you were going out with as to recent and the lead quarterback of the football team. Nothing romantic yet just some dates here and there to get to know each other more. He was your date to homecoming that you thought ditched you for some cheerleader but apparently he’d been kidnapped by god knows who.

You quickly pulled the towel out of his mouth and cupped his cheek as he slowly came too. “Luke? Luke, hey can you hear me? Wil I need help! Luke who did this to you?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes and looked relieved to see you.

“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.” He said, his voice hoarse and gone. You quickly sighed as you examined the ties in the rope.

“Ok, Wil can I please get som- Wil?” Your voice lowered as you saw Wil looking at the two of you, eyes full of dread, anger and revenge. You quickly stood up as you slowly walked towards him but stopped once he slowly started laughing and a smile appeared on his once blank face.

Wilbur reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a knife, one that was still ridden with blood. He looked at it before point it at you. “You know, this all happened because of you darling. You did this. You decided to ignore all my affections and admirations for this prick who doesn’t even care about you! I care! Not him! I did this for you.” Wil got close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your face. He brought the knife closer to your face and gently ran it down your cheek one as you stood there stone faced. “And you’re going to finish it, isn’t that right darling?”

Your cold, unfazed face quickly turned into one of excitement and joy as a smile adorned your face and you bit your bottom lip to contain it. You quickly grabbed his tie and pulled him down to your level and pushed your lips onto his, not minding the gasp they both heard from the unwanted guest.

You quickly reached into Wil’s jacket and pulled out the extra knife you placed in there earlier that night as you tugged him closer to you, one arm around your waist and one hand around your neck.

Wil pushed you away slightly. “Hmm not now, we still have business to take care of love.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to do this in front of him? Make him suffer even more?” You asked the man in front of you as you fixed his tie. Wilbur smirked as he looked down at you, amused at your sudden demeanor change. He loved it.

“Yes I did, but let’s do it after we deal with this fucking cunt.” Wil whispered in your ear as he pecked your neck and turned you around. “Now darling, what do we do with people who think they can just come in here and expect us to just forget all the shit they’ve put us through with their charm?” Wil asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder.

You pretended to think as you brought the knife up to your lips and tapped lightly. “Um… oh! You make their life a living hell.”

“Exactly, good job darling! So, wanna do the honors?” Wil asked as he placed his hands on your hips and stepped away from you.

“Can I say something to him quickly?” You asked your partner as he hummed, agreeing with what you wanted. He let go of your waist as you started walking forward.

“Don’t you dare come near me.” Luke hissed out as you walked up to him. You smiled at him as you meant down, face to face with him as you tapped his cheek with the blunt side of the knife.

“Oh but I thought you wanted me near you all the time? That’s why you started going on dates with me yeah?” Luke looked away from your eyes as you brought the knife to his forehead and moves pieces of his hair back. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I heard what you did. Made a little bet with your friends to see if you could get in my pants? Think I’m worth it now? After everything you did to me and called me? Think I would just accept something like that from you so quickly?!” You started to tear up as thoughts ran through your head. Frustration and sadness ran through your whole body. He didn’t understand that what he did still had an effect on you. It will always have an effect on you. He humiliated you throughout he school years and thinks he can just come in here and get some? Hell no.

Wil came up with this plan after you came to him crying about the whole situation. You knew the second he asked you out something was up, and your suspicions were right when you over heard the stupid cheerleaders making a fuzz about it in the back of class. Making fun of how small you were and how you were “easier”.

Wil was just as, maybe even more, angry than you were. That was when Wil told you he liked you and begged you not to say yes. You weren’t going to in the first place and after all that happened, you definitely weren’t. After that Wil came up with the idea for you to go out with him, play with him and drag it out as much as you could. Wil didn’t like hearing you shared a kiss with the bastard once or twice on the dates, but he let it slide when he saw you after and rid of the scent of his nasty cologne and disgusting kiss on your lips.

But after Wil over heard Luke in class with his gang of idiot, taking in the information, he was fuming. Texting you immediately after, telling you to meet him at his car immediately. He told you all of it. Luke’s plan to finally get some and leave you after. It disgusted him knowing that he wanted to do that to you. His darling. He told you to avoid all forms of contact at all cost, not to let him to close but close enough not to be suspicious.

The plan was working. Get him to tired so he leaves you alone. But Wil wanted more, something else.

Revenge. For all of it. So he sat you down and told you the plan he had, and to say that you were terrified at first was an understatement. You were scared of Wilbur. But after you continued hearing things and going on dates and hearing all the stupid lies coming out of his mouth, you started to understand the plan. The reason behind it. So after Luke asked you to go with him to homecoming, you immediately went to Wil after a couple days of no contact or conversation and told him you were in. And to say that he was happy was an understatement. He was ecstatic. He had his partner in crime back.

Which leads you here, in this moment on the verge of seeing red and snapping this mans neck.

“You ruined my years in school since I was a kid because you convinced everyone that I should be a loner and i deserved it, since my dad never loved me and my moms a drunk. I was the weird kid yeah? Remember those words? I do. They’re engraved in my fucking mind because of you!” You screamed in his face as he flinch back. You quickly stood up and looked down at him with a flat expression. “And I believed it. Until I met Wil. He actually cared enough to get to know me. He cared enough to be my friend. And that’s more than I could ask for. But you, you can’t get enough of seeing me suffer yeah? Seeing me crumple into a little ball and ruining my life. Well buddy boy-“ you lightly pat his face as Wilbur comes behind you and smiles at the boy. “That’s exactly what we’re going to be doing to you but in a more… painful way.”

You finished off as you plunged your knife into his stomach, feeling a rush adrenaline run through you. You didn’t want to do this, but he deserved it, for all the pain he put you through. And you guys already did enough damages so why not a little more.

You took the knife out as you heard him gasp and hiss in pain and uncomfortable.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Luke said as curled in on himself, trying to stop the pain at any cost.

Wil scoffed as he pulled the man’s head back by his hair and leant down close to him. “Go to hell.” He hissed in his face as he shoved the knife into the blondes chest and stepped back as he yelled and the gasping started.

The scene wasn’t pretty. The boy had blood running out of his mouth and down his tux, not that it wasn’t already ruined by the wounds he sported. Yet the adrenaline kept rushing through you like a wave that never stopped. It almost brought you joy to see him like this . To see him slowly dying as all the tension and heartache from the past years slowly drain out of you.

You didn’t know you were crying until Wil cupped your face and cooed at you, wiping your tears away as he put your head in his chest, running his hands through your hair.

“We did the right thing love. These people were not kind to us. They deserved it. You’ll realize that soon, I promise. But now we have to leave, ok? We can get food and crash at my house and talk about this all. Ok? Trust me?” Wil told you as the music over the speakers continued but you weren’t focused on them. Only on the man in front of you and what he was saying. You trusted him with your whole life and if you had to do whatever he said, you would. Always.

You took his hands and pulled him out of the room, making sure everything that you guys brought and used was in hand. “Always. Now where are we eating?”

Wil smiled as tightened his grip on your hand and walked in line with you. “What about burgers?”

“Yeah, I could go for a burger.” You said with a smile on your face.

A smile that had nothing but pure joy and insanity as you tucked the knife away in Wil’s coat.

lowkey forgot who was on my taglist; if you wanna be added feel free to ask or dm me!

#lilly writes #wilbur soot x reader #simpbur #simpbur x reader #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #dead dove do not eat #dark fic #please read warnings!!!!!#wilbur x reader

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pumpk1n-writes · 1 year

Text

Tell Me About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Four

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Mentions of murder; language; stalking; smut (in this chapter); whiny Billy; knife play (ish); bondage; hand job; use of darling, princess, babe, baby boy; aftercare}

Part Three; Part Five || Word Count ~ 1.1k {finally broke 1k!! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with the rest of the parts!!}

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid @itzlovelyautumn @katie-tibo

The media you consume is your own responsibility and I will not be held accountable for your choices. I’m not going to block minors from this account, but proceed with caution anyway.

The mask lay discarded somewhere behind you. You’d tied Billy onto the dining room chair and both his and your knives were set carefully on the counter next to you. Your shorts kept riding up your thighs and your cropped shirt showed just enough tantalizing skin to make Billy wonder why the plan was to kill you rather than try and seduce you.

“What are you doing, Princess?” Billy asked. He thought he did a good job hiding the quiver in his voice until you laughed and patted his arm.

“There’ll be no more of that, babe. At least not until you know me better,” you winked at him. “As for what I’m doing to you, it’s all up to you. If you cooperate, it’ll be better for both of us. I won’t have to gut you and stab me and I won’t have to pull a frightened little girl act out of my ass for the cops to believe me.”

“And if I do cooperate?” Billy shifted his thighs uncomfortably, ashamed of the growing hardness there. He never knew he was apparently into bondage and knife play but if this is what it took to figure it out, hopefully it plays out the way he was currently picturing.

Your gaze shifted downwards and Billy realized that his uncomfortable movements hadn’t gone unnoticed. Your eyes shot back up to meet his, but he saw no shame, instead they were filled with the mischievous look he saw in Stu night after night. “Well that depends entirely on you, Loomis. What would you like me to do?”

Billy didn’t say anything, only staring into the depths of your eyes and hoping you didn’t make him beg.

“What do you desire me do to you, Billy?” You said his name with a strange mixture of contempt and arousal, and it only served to turn him on even more. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Billy barely trusted himself to speak without sounding desperate, but if that’s what it took for you to finally fucking touch him. “Please, princess, touch me,” he breathed, voice low and raw.

“Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy, you don’t get to make demands right now,” you laughed, dancing around, his knife in your hand. You reminded him heavily of someone who belonged in an asylum, with the way you handled the knife and the insane laughter that escaped so freely out of you. Add that to how different you seemed in front of others, and you had a combustible formula that was sure to go down in flames.

“What do you want?” Billy managed to bite out. He was so hard it neared the threshold of pain now, and your repeated action of dragging the knife over his cheekbone wasn’t helping.

“I want in,” you said it so matter-of-factly that it took a moment for your words to fight through the haze of arousal clouding his mind. “Whatever you and Stu are planning, I think it needs a lady’s touch, and I want in.”

Billy nodded, dropping his head and breathing heavily. “Yeah. Yes! Fuck, whatever you want, please.”

“Excellent!” You clapped your hands. “Now I’d say you’ve been particularly cooperative, and you seem so needy sitting there, I’d be evil not to do anything about it!”

Billy nodded along, not really paying attention to what he was agreeing to but just hoping you’d start doing something soon.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you removed his Ghostface cloak and slid his pants down to his boots. His fully erect cock sprang out against his toned stomach and the tip was angry and red. Billy hissed as he made contact with the cold air, his head hanging backwards, leaving his neck exposed.

He startled as you dragged the knife over the veins in his throat, whimpering as your fingers trailed a featherlight, barely-there path down his chest. As soon as your fingertips brushed the tip of his cock, he jerked his hips up into you hand, moaning embarrassingly loud.

“Oh, my darling baby boy,” you smirked, leaning in to bite his earlobe. “So sensitive.”

And that was the last warning he got before your hand was fully wrapped around his cock, thumb periodically swiping over the tip. Billy’s hands strained against the ropes. He wanted to grip your waist, longed to feel your hair under his fingers, shower you with the same pleasure you were giving him. He whimpered against your shoulder, leaning in to bite the base of your neck.

“Let me touch you, princess, please,” Billy whined. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your lips ghosted over his. “Not today, baby boy. Tonight it’s your turn.”

In an act of boldness, Billy captured your lips with his own, drawing you in for a desperate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, exploring your mouth. Until the pace you’d set with your hand increased and he groaned, his head dropping back and mouth falling open.

“Let it go, darling. Let it go.”

That was all the encouragement Billy needed to come undone in your hand. He moaned and whined as you stroked him through it, waves of pleasure wracking through his body.

Billy opened his eyes after a few minutes to see you carefully and tenderly washing him off with a damp towel, having untied him already. He realized he was laying down in the couch and wondered if he’d passed out. Shortly after that thought had shot through his mind his cheeks reddened in embarrassment as he realized he’d come so hard in your hand he had blacked out.

“Can you stand?” You asked, helping him sit up. He waved your helpful arm away, despite his gratitude. He wasn’t used to being taken care of after sex, and he had to admit, letting go of control and letting you take the lead had led him to the biggest orgasm of his entire life.

He stood up without an issue, and quickly gathered his clothes, getting dressed without a word. You saw the look on his face and didn’t attempt to start a conversation, instead sitting in the couch where he’d been and watching him leave.

School tomorrow would be awkward.

#billy loomis scream #scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #smut #billy loomis smut

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months

Text

I'm gonna miss this place

Charlie Walker x fem!reader

warning : kissing, fluff, implied obsession, murder nothing graphic, blood, minor describtion of how pretty Charlie looks during sex, no use of Y/n

Summary : The final act of the finale is done and Charlie and his girlfriend have a brief moment of victory until something like nostalgia sets in.....The solution: kisses and affection.

Info : So again one cute thing for our sweet boy I wanted to write something fluffy again and needed a prompt and saw one and went yup new story...so as always hope you like it and have fun reading :)

masterlist

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

,,I'm going to miss this place," she heard his voice and looked up from the picture that showed her and Charlie and the movie club on a trip to the latest Stab movie.

Briefly it was like a feeling of regret, regret that they hadn't all done something together again before…but there was something stronger than this club.

The club alone didn't keep anyone here in town, no one wanted to just stay here, it had been her and Charlie since they had longed for each other.

He had seen her little knife pendant on her key ring, had approached her and she had heard from Kirby and her friends that Charlie was supposed to be a little pervert.

Whereby ,,supposed to" was in the eye of the beholder as she turned her gaze to her friend Charlie she saw nothing of this pervert. She saw a deeply fixated, misunderstood poor cute young man who loved her more than anything.

With whom she had been through everything, his build-up phase, that she taught him that he was worth something, that he showed her that it was okay to let go, to trust someone, to show that he was capable of love and that she could and was allowed to accept it.

The prom, or rather the pre-party that took place in one of the few clubs in town, helped him as he adjusted to the new.

His hands held on to her and she honored him with a kiss on the tip of his nose as always. He came out of himself and the two of them danced across the floor together, ignoring the others and staying together.

His blue eyes, in which she had been lost since the first time they had seen each other, finally met. ,,What is it?" asked the blue-eyed one when he saw his beloved girlfriend looking at him, studying him and seemingly lost in thought.

He slid the hammer he still held in his hand to the ground and hit the soft yet wet carpet with a dull thud. It no longer mattered how they would leave this place, they had reached their grand finale, they had created an epic together and it had become fucking epic.

With a gentle smile, he reached for her hand and took the Ghostface mask she was still holding, even though the "finale" had been minutes ago. ,,What's wrong, love? Are you going to miss this place?" he asked, holding the mask up to his face, his voice slightly consumed so that it was Ghostface speaking.

Before he carefully moved his other hand to her cheek and wiped away a splatter of blood, apparently looking at it slightly before taking the mask aside and wiping away the blood that stained his finger.

He smirked as he saw her avoid his gaze, she didn't mind the blood, the injuries and all the carnage but it seemed…intimate. ,,A little blood never hurts, besides, we have everything we wanted now," he added and snuggled up to her, a joyful expression in his eyes and she involuntarily thought of a golden retriver again. Cute, fluffy and loving its owner more than anything.

She wrapped her arms around him and felt his warmth, the heat that was still on them both where the black fabric of the costume that had made her unmistakably Ghostface had been before.

His lips smirked as she played lightly with a strand of his brown hair, ,,That's right, we have everything…and we leave everything behind for us, just a little nostalgic," she replied, and pulled him into a brief but heartfelt kiss full of gratitude.

Gratitude that he was there even in this moment between death and life. Charlie had opened her eyes not only to movies but also to the fact that there was only one way.

A path they had to take together, he as her sweet weapon and she as the innocent victim. Because if they were ever caught, how could two traumatized young adults do something like this, it was bullying and the others were not.

Either way they weren't going to get caught and one look at the dead Kirby soaking the carpet wet and red with her blood and there would be no witnesses. ,,You bitch had to die," he said dismissively, the pain she had caused him over the last few years was finally gone and the bullying and words were finally over.

She nodded knowing he was right she was glad it was over…and despite everything she would miss her little home, her stupid little home. It was normal to feel nostalgic…but she had him, had her sweet loving and needy Charlie and that was all she needed and all he needed. Together they would manage everything and once again she was grateful to him for holding her, for being there for her.

Detaching himself from her, he took the tape they had used to record the finale, ,,The little movie of our love," she winked, knowing that besides the murders, there would be one or two other things on it, but this would be a nice surprise for the police once it ended up on the internet.

This time her gesture was the one that made him blush and grin, his first time was intimate, on camera, covered in the blood of the victims and god damn his eyes were beautiful, his blue eyes tinged with a glimmer of lust, the sounds eternally preserved by the recording. She took his hand and squeezed it lightly, watching as he made the same gesture back and they fell into another kiss.

His hand gently placed itself on her side and hers tangled in his hair, pulling it lightly and an amused giggle escaped him…a move that always drew him. ,,So sensitive," she mumbled to him as she watched him nod in agreement and return a ,,Just for you, my heart" before they kissed again.

A kiss that meant the beginning of freedom as soon as they got into his car and drove away, leaving the city behind, they would have everything together forever.

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

@icarus-star , @roryculkinsgf , @angelsanarchy , @ria-coolgirl

#scream 4 #scream movie #charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #rory culkin #scream charlie walker #charlie walker x you

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czrpenters · 1 year

Text

mine | gf!sam carpenter x reader

summary: it's very hard to sam fight against her instincts. so, maybe she should embrace them.

pairings: ghostface!sam carpenter x mackenzie!fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of mental disorders, blood, death of a character, suicide, dark themes.

word count: 3.2k words.

masterlist | request rules.

Sam felt guilty. She felt dirty. Disgusting, even.

Ever since the attacks in Woodsboro, she felt a switch turn inside of her. I mean, she always felt a little different, ever since she was a kid; she hated sharing, hated when things didn't went her way. Hated pretty much every person alive except her sister. And she never found peace. She had to reccur to drinking and drugs to forget about those feelings, even if for just a second. It was raging. Like it was tearing her chest from the inside out. The hallucinations with her real father, the voices she heard telling her to do things, all the anxiety and panic she felt daily. It was torture, to her.

And that got so freaking worse when she met you.

Sam met you through her sister, Tara. The attacks in Woodsboro were very personal to you. You lost your sister there. Your best friend, your Liv. You guys were closer than everything. Both of you were almost the same person, like two peas in a pod. Losing her was losing a part of you. And Sam pretty much saved you back then. Physically and emotionally.

When Sam fell in love with you, she thought that all of the horrible shit she felt would go away for good. She was innocent, of course; thought that love was the solution to all the problems in the world. And it was, for a while.

She felt peaceful, she felt at home. Everytime you kissed her, she forgot about everything bad that was inside of her. It was calm. Something she didn't even remembered how it felt. After Richie, Sam never thought about dating again; she couldn't even trust people enough to let them in. But she trusted you; she loved you. There was something about you and your personality that captivated her, and Sam couldn't even figure it out what it was. She didn't wanted to. She was too busy loving you to even think about these things.

That was the scenario for the first few months of your relationship, of course.

She definetly felt a switch turn inside of her after the attacks.

Why did she felt like that? Why did it feel good? When killing Richie, stabbing him, his blood splattering all over the floor and against her face. Seeing his life fade away in her bare hands. Why did it felt right?

It was too much, for her. She had to go to therapy, against her own will. It was scary. She had to switch therapists every now and then everytime she spoke about her feelings. It was too much for them, as well.

These thoughts haunted her. She had dreams about Richie, about the feeling of his blood in her hands, the smell of Amber's burnt skin, the knife piercing through Richie's flesh. And it wasn't helpful when her father decided to show up every now and then to have a little chat with her.

"You know you wanna do it." Sam turned around, scared that someone had broken into her house, but it was just him. Billy Loomis. "It's a human instinct, Sam. It's our instinct."

She took a deep breath, deciding to ignore him, getting back to her chores. It was almost like she could feel his presence in the room physically. She heard him laugh, but promptly ignored him; getting back to cut some vegetables for dinner. "Look at you, Sam. Look how the knife fits perfectly in your hand. It's like you were made for this."

She closed her eyes shut and threw the knife angrily at the sink. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" She screamed, turning around and realizing he was finally gone. That was her life now, day after day. The meds were barely working, and therapy was pretty much useless. So, in a last attempt to save the last bits of her sanity, she decided to leave Woodsboro. Maybe that was the solution all along, she thought. She needed to move on, to forget about the trauma, to live a normal life with her family. And maybe, just maybe, New York City would erase all of the past.

Sam woke up breathless. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Another nightmare, like usual. And as always, about you. Dreaming about your death. The thought of you dying was terrifying to her, she felt this need to protect you from everything and everyone at all times and it could be too much for her own sanity sometims.

She looked to the side of the bed, her body shaking when she realised you weren't there.

"(Y/N)?" She got up the bed and looked for you in the bathroom, feeling dizzy and anxious. "(Y/N)??"

She ran to the kitchen, hoping to find you there; which she did. You were making yourself some late night snack with your headphones on, not even paying atention to your surroundings. Her heart finally slowed down, holding the chair next to her to calm herself down. You turned around for whatever reason and saw her there, looking like she ran a marathon. "Baby? Are you okay?"

"I'm- I'm fine." She looked at you, breathless. You took your airpods off, worried. I mean, it was a common thing to see her waking up in the middle of the night; you knew she had nightmares all the time, probably everyday. You made her sit down, holding her head between your hands. "Tell me, what happened this time?"

"You were there... You were-" She didn't even had the guts to say it. She couldn't even think about you dying. "It felt so fucking real."

"I know, baby. I know." You soothed her, sitting in her lap and holding her in your arms. She felt a kiss on the top of her head, and your smell quickly invaded her nostrils; she finally was at peace now. "It was a bad dream, ok? Remember what I told you: These are only..."

"...Only dreams. You're right." She finished the sentence, looking at you, feeling finally at peace. You kissed her head again, getting out of your embrace.

"I'm gonna get you some water, baby."

"No... Stay with me." She whined, like a baby. You laughed and kissed her lips quickly.

"I'm literally 10 steps away from you. I think you can handle a couple of seconds without me, huh?" You answered, going to the fridge to grab her a water bottle. She looked straight at you, waiting for you to be done so she could finally hug you again. You handed her the water bottle and she promptly drank it; nightmares made her really thristy, for some reason. You were getting ready to sit on her lap again but your phone started ringing, making you go in its direction. "Who the fuck is calling me right now?"

You were intrigued, until you saw the number's id. It was your friend from college, Rachel. The two of you got very close ever since you moved to New York. And that bothered the shit out of Sam, mainly because you were talking to her all the time. Laughing with her, going to places with her. She should do all of this stuff with me, she thought.

"Let me guess... Rachel again?" Sam asked, kind of annoyed. The feeling she hated the most started to build up inside of her. She hated sharing.

"She's not that bad, baby. I get that she can be too much sometimes, but you really should give her a chance." You said before answering the phone. You were so naive, Sam thought. You were innocent to the point where you thought that the reason Sam hated her was because of her personality (rightfully so, because Rachel really could be unbearable sometimes). She could be the nicest, friendliest person in the entire world, and that wouldn't change a thing.

To Sam, she was competition. She was the enemy.

You turned away so you could talk to your friend more privately. It wasn't even something that important, probably just some late night movie session that Rachel was having on her own and she called to say how it was going. It was the love for movies that brought you two together; and also your shared hate of Van Helsing and the second triology of Star Wars.

Sam frowned and got up, going to the bathroom to wash her face a little bit. She was stressed. She was angry. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

Stupid. She's so stupid. She can't even wait until morning to call her? Fucking bitch.

She washed her face with a little bit of cold water, but when she was finished and looked herself in the mirror, she saw him again.

"She's so inconvinient, am I right?" He said, blood splattered all over his face and clothes. "Calling your girl at 3 AM, as if she didn't had anything better to do... As if she didn't had a girlfriend to take care of."

"Stop it." She said, quietly. She didn't wanted for you to know that Billy was back.

"Why do you let this happen, Sam? It isn't right. She's yours. Yet here you are, letting her waste your guys' time to talk with another chick. Oh, I thought you were better than that..."

"Please, shut up."

"You know what you need to do. This has gone way too far." He said, seriously. "You need to take her out of your way, Sam."

"I'm not gonna do shit." She took a deep breath, remembering all of the things you said to her when she was anxious, but this time they weren't helping.

"But you should. She's gonna take your girl away. Are you gonna let that happen, Sam? That's not how we do stuff."

"I'm not like you..."

"Don't be like me, then. Be better. Sneak away in the middle of the night."

"Stop."

"Grab your knife with you. Tie your hair in a ponytail."

"Please, stop."

"Slice her wrists and make it look like a suicide."

"Please..."

"Wear the mask, Sam."

"STOP!" She yelled, and looked up. Billy was gone.

"I'll call you later, Rach." You turned off your phone and ran into the bathroom, where you found Sam crying in front of the sink. You took the girl into your arms and caressed her hair softly. "Baby, I'm so sorry... You're gonna be alright, okay?" Sam nodded in your arms, still crying. She was scared of herself. Scared of him coming back. Scared that this plan would, maybe, come true one day.

And the worst part about all of this is the fact it seemed like a very good idea.

It was eating her alive. Everytime you grabbed your phone to talk to her, everytime she called. Or worse, when you invited her over to watch some stupid sci-fi movies. She could do all that shit with me. She should do all that shit with me. That was all she was thinking when she was on her way to her therapist (which, surprisingly, didn't leave when Sam opened up about her feelings). It didn't take long for her to get to the therapist's office; that was something Sam loved about NYC. She would just take the subway and go pretty much everywhere in the city.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this." She said to her doctor, whose name she didn't even bothered to remember at the moment. Other than being a shrink, he was also a psychiatrist, and to Sam, it meant that his hobby was to fill her up with meds she didn't need.

"Doing what, Sam?" The man asked. He was a nice guy, Sam thought. Mid 50s, a velvety type of voice, and was one of the few people in the world that actually listened to her.

"Sharing her. I just, I can't. It's too much."

"She's not your possession, Sam. You know that, I know that." No. He was wrong. You were hers.

"I know." She lied. "But still. It bothers me."

"And how it makes you feel, exactly?"

"Like I'm about to die. Everytime she's not with me. Everytime she spends time with another person, I wished I was dead." Another lie. She didn't wanted to die, she wanted to kill. And deep down, she knew it. She knew Billy was right; it was her instinct. But she couldn't let them take over. She had to be good. For you, and you only.

"She's a grown woman. Don't you think she is allowed to have her own life?"

"I know that. But she could do all that stuff with me. I'm capable of making her laugh, watch some stupid movies with her, or take her to fucking Madison Square Garden or some shit. I'm enough. I'm all what she needs." She said that last part in a whisper. The doctor wrote some things down, before looking at her again.

"How are the meds going, Sam?" She took a deep breath, relaxing in the chair.

"They suck. But I'm still taking them." The therapist smiled.

"That's the spirit." He wrote another thing down. "I know they can be a little bit hard on your body, but you know they help. Are you still having hallucinations?"

"Sometimes. Not like in the past, but still." She looked at the ceiling, unable to make eye contact with the man. It was a tough topic.

"When do you have them, mostly?"

"When I'm angry, or alone." The doctor nodded, making Sam confused. "Why is that?"

"These are the moments that you feel the most vulnerable, and unfortunately that's how this works; it attacks you when it knows that it can get to you." He said, without even using the term that Sam feared the most. "You can't let that happen, Sam. When you feel angry, or when you're alone, try your best to not listen to it. To not listen to him. If it gets really bad I could prescribe you something, but-"

"No. No more meds." Sam interrupted him. "I can handle it."

He nodded. The consult ended quickly, and Sam was already roaming New York City's streets after a couple of minutes. She needed to forget about all of this, in a healthy way. She promised you and Tara to stop drinking, so the only solution she had to forget about all of her shit was to walk.

She grabbed her phone, hoping you'd had texted her. Nothing. Why she wouldn text me? She always texts me after my consult. Sam thought for a second. Opened Instagram, trying to see if you posted anything. She clicked on your stories. Her heart sank to her stomach, seeing a picture of you and Rachel. Of course she was with Rachel. Stupid, fucking Rachel. She didn't even knew you were gonna be with her tonight.

"Why didn't you tell me you were gonna be busy tonight?"

You didn't take long to respond. "I thought I told you, baby. I'm just watching some tv shows with Rach."

Just reading her name made Sam feel nauseous. Rachel. Such an ugly name.

Sam responded your text lovingly, but feeling the opposite inside. All of that anger and fury came back to her. And that was only one thing in her mind right now.

Sam waited. 30 minutes, 1 hour. 2 hours. Nothing. You got home after 3 hours of waiting, which made Sam freaking pissed. She was supposed to be with me.

"Hey baby, I'm home! Sorry I took too long..." You got into the apartment, and Sam gave you a fake smile. You walked to te couch, where she was sitting, and sat on her lap, kissing her entire face dozens of times. "I'm sorry, okay? I know that friday's are our nights, but I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"It's fine, baby. Don't worry."

It wasn't fine. Sam wasn't really proud of what she did next, but it was the only solution she could think at the moment. She put a few drops of some allergy meds in your water, to make you sleepy; which happened in about 30 minutes. You both were cuddling while watching some stupid reality show, when you fell asleep. It was te perfect oportunity; Tara was at Chad's dorm, Quinn was at some hookup's place. It was just the two of you. She would be back before you woke up.

Sam changed her clothing. Put on the most generic outfit she could find, nothing special. Grabbed a hair tie. Put a surgical mask on, along with some reading glasses. She felt like fucking Clark Kent. She put some stuff in her backpack and made her way into the streets. She was calm. You wouldn't find out. Never.

Sam was a smart girl, she did her research. She knew Rachel's address by memory, and with a little internet help, she also found out that Rachel was freaking depressed. Damn, how can this be so easy? Thankfully, Rachel lived in a small house right near Brooklyn. It was late at night, no one was walking the streets except for Sam. The whole way there, she felt anxious, but in the best fucking way possible. Sam never felt this good before, only when she was with you. She always felt happy with you.

It didn't took that long for Sam to get there. Sam tied her hair, looking at the girls body right at the window. She was hidden behind a car, which made it easier for her to change into the outfit she brought. A ghostface's outfit.

"Put on the mask, Sam." She heard Billy's voice in her head, making her shiver. "Listen to me this time."

And she did.

Sam entered the house with no difficulty, the girl lived by herself and had a poor security system. She got inside, and did what she was yearning to do for days.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" The girl asked, after Sam revealed herself. She wanted Rachel to ser her, she wanted for her to know who was her killer.

"I'm here to gut you, Rachel."

Sam took the girl down, immobilizing her. Putting all her body weight on the top of hers. She tried to fight back but it was useless, Sam was stronger.

With a razor, she slit both of the girls wrists vertically.

The blood splattered all over the floor, all over Sam's body.

She felt a rush of dopamine immediately. It felt so fucking good. Seeing her life fade away right in front of her. Now (Y/N) would spend all of her time with me.

Sam spent some 10 minutes just looking at the girls dead body, like if it was a piece of art. She took a deep breath, grabbing a wooden pick she brought with her to clean under Rachel's nails, trying to erase each and every bit of Sam's dna that could potentially frame her. She knew it wouldn't have any, but still.

Sam got up, went to the girls computer. Wrote a suicide letter. It was pretty convincible, to be honest.

Before leaving, Sam looked at her lifelesss body one last time, her mouth watering at the sight. Right next to her, was Billy, looking pleased.

"Good job, Sam. I'm proud of you, kid." Sam took a deep breath. "No one is taking your girl away now."

⠀

tags: @laenordeservedbetter @attaccadq

#scream #scream vi #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter smut #melissa barrera smut #ghostface!sam #ghostface #ghostface!sam x reader

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websterss · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 𝟏/𝟒 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You never thought much of it, Ethan's need to help you, the way he was always nice, too nice sometimes, you never thought much of it until he killed you one night. Not only did Ethan have to worry about your friends suspecting foul play, but he also had to worry himself about the fact he could see, hear, and touch you. You haunt him until he confesses to the group about what he did.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): A bit graphic, mentions of blood and dying, angst, implications of non-con smut, but no actual smut at the end sorry.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,726

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Ghost!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! I based this off the song by Lizzy McAlpine - Doomsday

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You never would have seen it coming. The knife. The costume, the way you yanked on the mask and met eyes with your worst fear possible. Your trust and confidence in Ethan was lost in the span of a solid night. The night you let him into your tiny apartment. A night you assumed would have been filled with studying, teasing, and eventually a good night kiss because your feelings for the dork grew over the months of getting to know him. You didn’t see it coming because you never believed someone like him could hold so much hate and evil in their heart, in his eyes. The same eyes you felt comfortable staring into, but now, stared into them with fear.

Ethan sat at the edge of your bed, the knife twiddling in his left, the bracelet he ripped off you in his right. He looked at the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Your faint cries and whimpers could be heard down the hall. He closed his eyes, guilt eating him alive for what he had to finish out.

No witnesses left alive, his father's words echoed through his mind. The fucked up part…you weren’t even on their list. You weren’t part of the plan, but you were getting too attached to the idea of seeing a future with him, and his dad didn’t like it. The fucked up conversation he had with him replaying like a broken record.

“She has nothing to do with this!” Ethan argued.

“If you don’t do it, I will and I won’t be so gentle about it. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her…It has to be you. Maybe then you’ll learn to listen to me when I tell you not to do something. Do it soon and do it fast!”

“Dad…she has nothing to do with this.”

“I told you not to get attached to anyone and what’s the first thing you did! Get rid of her or I will!” Ethan stumbled back as his dad shoved a ghostface mask into his chest.

He was brought back to the current mask in his hands, he sighed, standing up. Knowing he was only dragging this on further, and making you suffer more than he intended for you to. It was supposed to be quick, but then you yanked on the mask and he lost his mind.

Your heart spiked hearing his boots on the tile. You willed yourself to crawl faster but the loss of blood was draining your energy and strength. Ethan looked left at the wall, it was hard to watch you. He had to give it to you though, you were determined to escape…even if you only made it about ten feet from your room.

“Y/n…” He closed his eyes. His voice was slightly cracking.

“Noo…” You pleaded. Your cries increased as you pushed against the floor. Your hand kept slipping though. The blood gave you no friction to push yourself further. The door was right there…it was right there.

“You’re not gonna get to the door. You’re not, I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I will, I will.” You cried.

“Not with where I stabbed you. That wound was intentional.” He informed.

It only made you cry harder. Your vision blurred from the tears falling down your face, onto the floor. The door was becoming difficult to see now. “I-I can. I just need to push myself.” You groaned, then screeched when you felt a gentle hand turn you onto your back. You tried pushing him off but it was no use at this point. Your fate was doomed.

“Please.” You pushed against his clothed chest. He leans down to press a kiss against your temple, then you feel the harsh insert of his knife entering your wound once more. Your gasp falls heavily against his ears. You begin to choke on your own blood in an attempt to get a single word out. He pulls the knife out and watches as your chest starts to rise and fall even slower now. “W-Why?” You mustered before your breathing grew shallow, and your eyes dilated. The last thing you saw before the world fell into a dark void, was the fall of a tear roll down his cheek.

The group still couldn’t come to terms with your death even as they stood before your casket. The small ceremony was beautiful. Your parents thanked those who came to show their love and respect. The group could see right through your parent's facade though. Trying to be strong but in reality they were torn at the loss of their child. Seeking revenge and justice for you. They had no clue who had it out for you, for them.

The group did though. They knew the real cause of your death. They knew who was back. They just didn’t know who stood behind the mask this time, and why they decided you had to be the first victim to their blade. Ghostface was back, and your smiling portrait staring back at them was enough to send them a message. No one was safe.

They each took turns laying a white rose into your grave. Chad even went beyond the rose and pressed his kissed fingertips to your portrait. Saying his farewells to you, silently promising under his breath. “We’re gonna get this son of a bitch for you, Y/L/N. I’ll see to it.” He shed a tear, his heart heavy for losing his beloved game night partner. For losing another amazing friend in his life. He couldn’t bear being there any longer than he wanted to. He needed to go let off some steam before he himself more than likely pummeled someone into their own grave. The niche joke was probably too soon thought of, but he was so angry for you. He wanted someone to pay. He patted Ethan letting him know that they’d all be at Sam’s and Tara’s if he wanted to join them.

It had been Ethan however, who stayed a few minutes behind. Guilt was all he felt as he was staring at your casket in the ground. Then at your picture that practically mocked him, as if you’d say. “They’re gonna find out eventually ya know.” Ethan’s heart sank as he caught sight of movement from his peripheral. Then the voice kept speaking. “This is some serious out-of-body experience I’m going through right now. Like this shit is crazy.” You tilt your head watching your casket be buried by dirt. “I never thought I’d be attending my own funeral, yet here I am.”

“I’m dreaming.” Ethan finally got a good look at you.

“Afraid not.” You examine your portrait on the stand. Pouting slightly for your own loss. “At least Mom picked a decent picture. High school senior picture. Not bad.” You smile at the picture of yourself and whip around to face the curly-haired man who killed you. The reaction you were getting from him was priceless. It’s like he’d seen a ghost or something- oh wait he did!

“What is this?” He muttered under his breath. He looked around wondering if anyone else could see you.

“I don’t know but I’m enjoying every second.” You smirked.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I am.” You gestured to your grave and picture. Ethan rolled his eyes at your sarcastic smile.

“No. Dead as is gone. Not whatever this is!” He gestured to all of you. “I didn’t ask to be haunted by your ghost.”

“Well, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions!.” You feign empathy.

“Why are you still here?”

“Hell should I know…All I remember was seeing you cry, then everything went dark. The next thing I know I’m falling face first into the grass over there, and see all of you here, mourning me.” You shrug.

“This can’t be happening to me…” Ethan shakes his head and walks off from your grave. "This has got be be one of worst things to happen to me."

“You’re one to talk…” You shove past him trying to get ahead of his pace. But it was that singular moment of physical contact that had you both stopping in place. Ethan stares wildly at the back of your head, watching your back straighten, and then you turn to face him with eyes just as big and confused as his.

“Did you feel that?” You broke the tension.

“You touched me.” Ethan palmed where your shoulder bumped into his. You copied him.

“I can touch you?” You questioned.

“This really can’t be happening.” His breath labored, his hands feeling clammy. He couldn’t process this in its entirety due to how fast everything was shifting and moving along.

He just watched you get buried and now he was having a verbal, somehow physical conversation with you. He swore he was losing his mind because you shouldn’t have been able to see, speak, or touch him. Yet he had you back for just a moment, or however long this would last, but you could touch him, and he could feel you. No pure thoughts ran sanely through his head. Yet it was one glance at your empty wrist and everything all came back to him. “This can’t be happening to me.” He spoke quickly then dragged you back to his dorm.

You would have questioned him and where he was taking you but you were just as lost and confused as he was, but as far as you knew he was the only one who could help you and see you. As much as you were against the idea of receiving his help, you let him drag you along with him.

One minute you were meeting your demise, and the next you were back as a ghost being dragged by Ethan to his dorm. And now your back was pressed up his door as he frantically turned his side of the dorm upside down. You relaxed back into the door, your head thrown back as Ethan went on a rampant search.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"I know I have it. I took it off you..." Ethan whispered to himself, but it caught your attention nonetheless. You pushed off the door and stepped closer to him.

"Took what off me?" Your breathing quickened as you glanced down at yourself. "Ethan, what did you take off me?"

Ethan sighed heavily as he crawled out from searching under his bed. Then stood up straight again. He looked around his belongings, then at last patted down his jeans. You watched as he dug into his pockets and sighed in relief when his fingers collided with what he had been searching for.

"This!" Ethan pulled it out for you to see. You rubbed your clammy palms against your jeans because dangling from his fingertips was your bracelet, your gold one. The one you never took off. The one you were wearing the other night.

"M-My bracelet..." You gasped. You subconsciously rubbed the empty part of your wrist, not feeling it against your skin because it wasn't there to begin with. You didn't pass over with it on, to where you were right now. Was this some fucked up form of limbo you were stuck in. The in-between. You didn't know what this was, but all you knew was that all the emotions, the fear, knowing you weren't gonna get to see the light of day came rushing back. You stumbled back and slammed into the door, sliding down it, until you were sat on the carpet. You only stared defeated as Ethan fiddled with the small chain. He didn't know what to say.

What does one say to their ghost?

Sorry, I killed you.

"I think you're tethered to it." Ethan came and sat beside you. Copying your position. He offered the bracelet to you, but when he tried to gently place it on your open palm it fell right through you. You both locked eyes, then looked down at the fallen band. "You can't touch it..." No shit, sherlock.

"I didn't die with it." You swallowed thickly. "It wasn't a part of me that night." You assumed. It felt like the only reasonable thing to make sense. "I didn't even notice you took it off...I didn't die with it on, so presumably, it didn't cross me with." You gesture to it as Ethan goes to pick it up again. "It's still mine though, it belongs to me. So if I'm back for whatever reason that may be, that is one of them." You pressed your fingertip to the top of his right hand. Ethan's eyes fell down to your touch because that was one thing he still couldn't comprehend, being able to feel you. It was too much to take in, in one day, but he was even more shocked by your next words. "I'm gonna make your life miserable." You took your hand back and stared off towards the window, letting the sun bask over your form, but you wished for nothing more than to feel its warmth hit you because all you felt now was cold, anger, and hatred for the guy who called himself your friend.

"No one knows it was me." He turned to you. A dark glint in his eyes cast over the innocent boyish charm he was trying to portray, now you knew it was nothing but an act, and you fell victim to it. He draped an arm across your lap, getting as close and personal as he could. You held his gaze but leaned back the slightest bit. "No one heard you scream that night, and no one's gonna hear you now. So whatever plan you got up in that head of yours. It won't see the light of day, you know why?" He tilted his head, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek gently. "Because you didn't." You wanted nothing more than to smack that twisted smile off his lips.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't killed me." Your eyes didn't falter away from his own, but Ethan shook his head as a tear fell down your face.

"Oh yeah, and why is that?" He pulled away but tugged on your waist, inching you up onto his lap. You placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. If he was this cynical and twisted as he was showing himself to be, you figured the direction of where this afternoon was heading for you. He wanted you when you were alive, no doubt he wanted you the same now too, but dead. You felt just as doomed the minute you shoved your shoulder into his at the cemetery.

"Cause I'm gonna drive you to insanity. I'll make you confess to what you did. You won't know a peaceful night's sleep after today." You situated yourself better on his lap.

"Is that a threat, baby?" The sick bastard was enjoying this.

"It's a promise..." You leaned down and whispered to him softly.

"I'll hold you to it then." Ethan stood up, making you slip out of his lap. Then stood up, towering over your ghostly self again. To the oblivious eyes, he looked less threatening without the costume and mask, but after knowing everything you did now. His tall build drawing closer as your back hit the door again scared you more than anything. You shouldn't have been so frightened by him, you were dead, and the worst part had passed, but he trapped you in place. You felt just as helpless and vulnerable as you were that night. If his looming frame didn't put you at ease, neither did the words that he spoke in your ear. You visibly cringed as his breath tickled your ear.

"No one heard you scream then, and they won't hear you now. So scream as loud as you want tonight, but no one will come." You felt numb as he started pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You'd have thought that your demise was violent. That the worst part was over, but as you stood there, trying to hang on to any hope that there was still some good in him somewhere. You knew that the worst had only just begun. That you didn't get a choice in this matter and it all started with the death of you.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry series #my gif #writings by juls

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