#who gave York an orb

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

three times

a/n: some time ago i asked you guys on a poll what dude you wanted in this story and you all chose bucky, so here it is! also, i partly blame you all for how unhinged it turned out... like you get maybe 6,69% of the blame for the push you gave me... the rest is just me being a hoe

summary: a tale of the three times a nurse was kidnapped by new york’s most notorious gang. 

warnings: dark!mob boss!bucky barnes x nurse!reader x doctor!peter parker, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, mob au, mobsters!steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, scott lang, bruce banner, the gang is called the avengers, doctor!kate bishop, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, violence, weapons, blood, being drugged, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, kissing, clothed x completely naked, panty sniffing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, oral, fingering, fisting, pussyjob, in bucky's mind it's brat taming, dumbification, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, somno, bondage, mild knife play, mild gunplay, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 11.574

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You flinched jaggedly as the dark cloth bag was finally ripped off your head. Eyes immediately squinting, they still strained to take in the unfamiliar space you’d been dragged to. 

You were no longer in the hospital’s dark parking lot, nor were you in the black van you’d suddenly been tossed into, but instead, you found yourself in a dark living room. It was elegantly decorated, from the Persian rug to the dramatic, antique fireplace flicking behind the cluster of suit-clad criminals glaring down at you. 

“This her?” one of them grumbled. 

“Yep, one doctor as per your request,” the one who’d abducted you grinned, proudly planting a palm on his hip, “even choose a pretty one just for shits and giggles,” his starkly different mannerisms only made the others seem that much more intimidating. 

The broad-figured one with a shock of sandy hair then stepped closer to where you stood, “alright, here’s the thing, doc,” his head tilted slightly to get on your level as he spoke to you directly, “you’re gonna do exactly as we say and then everything will be alright, okay?” he stared in your eyes as you offered him a shaky nod, “okay,” he exhaled, “you got a name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n…” you uttered before hearing yourself try to correct, “but I–…”

“But what?” the same man croaked. 

“I-I’m not a doctor…”

“God damn it!” someone rumbled as everyone’s eyes flicked to the man who’d captured you, “we can’t fucking trust the new guy to do anything.”

“Well, she’s wearing scrubs,” he tried, frantically gesturing to your uniform, “I just thought–”

“You fucked up, Lang!” the first man who you’d heard speak barked loudly, “and now we’re not just gonna lose one of our brothers tonight, but also the head of the snake. Great fucking job,” a sharp click then caused your eyes to find the gun he yanked out, “and now she gotta die as well–”

“Wait!” you shrieked as both of your palms shot up in the air, “no! Please don’t kill me! I-I’m a nurse! I’m a nurse! I can help! Whoever’s hurt, I can help!”

Seemingly superior to the others present, the blonde one stared at you intensely for a while before exhaling a verdict, “shit… well, I guess it’s better than nothing…” his polished shoes then began to shuffle before he gestured to you, “come this way.” 

Hesitantly, you slowly shadowed him out of the living room, down a dim hallway, and into the chamber that bloomed at the bottom of the corridor. In the centre of the dark room, bathed by two glowing pendants, stood a large pool table, and upon the green felt, with colourful orbs haphazardly scatted all about, there laid a man, unconscious and bleeding. 

The brunette’s suit was sodden with crimson, though you couldn’t tell from here how much of it was his own. 

The gangster who was standing by the side and watching over the wounded individual glanced up at your arrival and asked his fellow men, “this the doctor?” 

“No, it’s a fucking stripper,” you twisted your neck at the sarcastic tone as the guy who’d only moments ago pulled a gun on you waltzed past you and entered the room as well, “yes, of course it is, Tony. How’s the boss?”

“Still alive,” he answered in a sigh and cast his glance back down upon the man on the pool table. 

Slowly stepping up, you carefully let your stare wash over the mobster, from the frazzled and blood-soaked attire to the metal-looking hand poking out one of the sleeves. 

“What happened?” you asked carefully. 

“Miss,” someone grumbled as they set a bag of supplies down beside you on the games table, “just fix him.” 

“If you wanna give your friend a better chance, then you give me as much information as possible about what happened to him,” you uttered as you found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. 

Letting out a sigh, the blonde fellow then said, “it was a shootout.”

Snatching up a pair of scissors, you began to snip in the man’s clothes, staring at the sleeve closest to you, “how many times was he shot?”

“I don’t know, he–… a lot of rounds went off,” he grunted, the events of the night weighting his broad shoulders down, “I wasn’t exactly counting.” 

Two bullets. That’s how many you found when his dress shirt was in tatters on the floor. One was lodged in his right arm four finger widths above his elbow, while the other had strayed a bit further north and buried itself in his bulky bicep. You also found other scrapes and scratches along his torso, assumingly from other bullets that hadn’t been as lucky as those two. 

The smallest of relieved sighs flowed from your lungs as you discovered that he wasn’t in a critical enough condition to be in need of a surgeon, at least not from what you could tell with the limited resources currently at your disposal. 

As you carefully set to work, first digging the bullets out before cleaning the wounds with saline, your lips slowly parted as you treaded a curved needle, “…so, not that I don’t love the change to my evening plans,” you didn’t dare shift your glance as you asked, “but don’t you have a regular guy for cleaning up these sorts of messes?” 

“We did… he died tonight, trying to stop that from happening,” the blonde man gestured to the injuries you began to stitch up. 

Blinking up to find his eye, you uttered sincerely, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” feeling yourself, even under such circumstances, uncontrollably slip into those compassionate parts of your profession. 

A slight scoff bubbled out of the gangster, taken aback by your unexpected gentleness, “yeah, me too. Banner was one hell of a guy…”

Once each of the wounds were sutured closed and you’d bandaged him up, you pushed yourself back from the pool table. 

“Alright,” you exhaled and glanced up at the criminals lurking in the shadows of the chamber, “I’m done.”

“Yeah?” one of them stepped up to get a better look, “he’s alright?”

“No, he’s not alright, he was shot multiple times and should be in a fucking hospital,” your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you heard yourself snap, “now, can I please go home?” 

Catching the eye of the blonde one, second in command, you watched as his jaw briefly clenched, the muscles dancing beneath his skin before he breathed, “no, you’re not done.”

“But I did exactly as you asked–”

“Like you said, he should be in a hospital right now, but we can’t have that happen, so instead, you’re gonna stay here till he’s out of the woods.” 

“What? I can’t–”

“You’re a nurse, right?” he croaked to shut you up, “so fucking do your job and nurse him back to health.”

Three whole days ended up passing by before Mr Barnes slowly began to regain consciousness. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” you snapped back into work mode, springing from your seat and leaning in over the bed which he’d previously been moved into. As the mobster instinctively began to sit up, his eyes barely open yet, you laid a soft palm upon his metal arm and uttered, “sir, please don’t move,” and watched as his clenched jaw almost silenced a groan, “one second, I’ll give you something for the pain,” before you shifted a moment to scavenge through the supplies you’d been given. Once the medicine was found, you exhaled slowly as you injected it, gently pressing down the plunger of the syringe, “there you go…” 

You let yourself suck in a deep breath before your sharp eyes washed over him, briefly assessing him as he woke, though as your gaze flickered up to meet his own, initially with the intent of checking his pupillary response, the manner he stared back at you caught you so of guard that a shiver trickled down your spine.  

“Sir, do you know what your name is?” you asked in a clear tone. 

“Mhm…” he hummed and continued to stare at you as if you were an angel, “Bucky…” 

“Bucky, great, that’s good,” you nodded, “and do you know where you are?”

His gaze didn’t shift away from your visage as he then murmured, “heaven…”

“No, I assure you, you’re not dead,” grasping the stethoscope draped around your neck, you shifted it into place to take a quick listen to his heart, “you almost were, a few times, but you aren’t.” 

As the steady thumping of his pulse filled your ears and seeped into your soul, his deep voice washed over you once again and layered atop the beat, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?” 

Catching his unwavering eye a moment, you then averted yours and muttered, “I was just doing my job…” before retracting the stethoscope from his chest and casting your glance towards the door, “I should probably go tell the others that you’re awake.” 

TWO WEEKS LATER

“…and Mr Jensen in 401 is complaining of a headache, so you might wanna check that out as well.” 

“Alright, cool,” the doctor scribbled down the last of your words on the little notepad in his palm before his gaze flickered up to catch yours, “thank you so much, Y/n,” he flashed you a warm smile. 

Mirroring his expression, you hugged the charts in your grasp closer to your chest, “any time, Dr Parker.” 

“Peter, please,” his thumb extended to click the top of his blue pen before sliding it into the breast pocket of his white coat, “hey, I was gonna go grab a cup of coffee right now, do you wanna join?” he tried to keep his tone casual. 

Blinking back at him, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat, “I–, uhm… I’d love to, but I get off in a little bit. Wednesdays are always just morning shifts for me.” 

“Oh, alright,” he nodded understandingly, though the gentle rejection still tainted his features slightly. 

“But another time,” you offered, successfully brightening his smile once more. 

“Yeah?” his elbow curled up to lean against the supportive railing that lined the hospital hallways. 

“Sure. I mean, I drink coffee, you drink coffee,” you awkwardly began to dig yourself into a hole, “the chances of us bumping into each other at the coffee cart are pretty high–” 

But your sentence was then cut short as Peter’s pager suddenly pinged in his pocket.

Fishing the small device out, his eyes flickered down to the small screen before he croaked, “oh, sorry. I gotta run.”

“Of course,” you swiftly waved a hand and watched as his feet began to shuffle into a run. 

“Talk later!” Peter called over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared into the maze of the hospital. 

Twisting around, your feet carried you the remaining distance towards the nurses’ station overlooking the ICU. As you laid the stack of files in your arms down on the counter, a familiar voice found your ears right before her visage popped into your periphery.

“Please tell me that that was what I think it was.” 

Your gaze stayed glued on the charts a moment longer as you ignored your friend’s prying, “hello to you too, Kate.”

When your head finally raised and you let her catch your eye, her wide ones questioned you before she expectantly poked once more, “well?”

“Well what?” you shrugged, though your feeble attempts at shutting the pending subject down failed as she shot you a glare, efficiently causing you to crumble with a sigh, “yes, he asked me out again–, or kinda. It was just coffee.”

“And you finally said yes?” she smiled keenly. 

Holding back your scoff, you simply uttered, “no,” before spinning on your heel. 

“Again?” she shuffled slightly to catch up to the pace you swiftly slipped into, “why not? He’s kind, he’s a doctor, he’s hot,” she listed off, counting on her fingers, “he’s literally perfect for you.”

“I know he is…” you tilted your head, almost with an air of shame, “he’s exactly the type of guy that I should be running after…” 

Though you liked him as a person and cared for him enough to call him your friend, those feelings you caught yourself forcing just hadn’t bubbled up yet. He was the kind of man that you deserved, that you should fall for, and certainly not the monster that still haunted you, that for some reason wouldn’t stop popping into your mind, especially at inappropriate times, like very late at night… 

“So then why aren’t you?” Kate asked as you entered the employee locker room.

And though thoughts of a gruff gangster caused your heart to swell, you still muttered, “I don’t know…” as an excuse before you popped open your locker and uttered, “hey… what do you know about mobsters here in the city?

“Other than the horror stories I’ve picked up in the ER, not too much,” she leaned against the row of cubbies beside your own as you dug out your bag and began to change out of your scrubs and back into the clothes you’d worn early this morning when the sun was still only a promise waiting to rise, “though I did grow up here, so I probably do know a bit more than you,” she acknowledged your move to the city only a few years prior, “why? Are you suddenly in the mood for a change in careers?”

Though the truth was on the tip of your tongue, you still found yourself obeying the commands the gangsters had sent you home with. Telling the cops was no use because they were all in their pockets, and confiding in a loved one also wasn’t a smart choice as that would only put them in danger. 

“Have you ever heard of someone called Bucky Barnes?” you asked, instinctively lowering your voice to a whisper. 

The ever light-hearted expression plastered upon Kate’s face fell at the recognition of that name, “yeah…”

“Really?” your brows rose, “what do you know about him?” 

“I mean, other than that he’s the supposed leader of the Avengers, not too much.”

“The Avengers?”

“Yeah, one of New York’s most notorious gangs,” she let out a breath, “from what little I know, they get up to a shit ton of stuff straight out of a De Niro movie or something, but their real money maker is cocaine… I mean, that’s why the head of the group is known as the winter soldier.” 

“How do you know about all this stuff?” you squinted back at her in slight amazement. 

“Went to med school with a few coke heads, might have dated one of them,” she blurted before shaking her head and getting back to the subject at hand, “anyways, Y/n, the point is, you don’t wanna mess with those types, trust me.” 

“I know,” you uttered quietly as you shrugged on your coat and pushed your locker closed, “I wasn’t planning on it, I was just curious…” 

As you dragged your foaming toothbrush over the last of your teeth, a loud knock suddenly rattled your front door, causing you to jump atop the pink bathmat in your tiny bathroom. 

Neck twisted out towards the entryway of your apartment, you briefly leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste slowly leaking out of your mouth, before your feet began to carry you towards the exit. 

One of your palms momentarily ran over the edge of your pyjama-clad arm as the night chill soaked through the cotton and made you yearn for the warmth of your bed. 

Though as you pulled on the handle, the haunting figures on the other side of the door caused your blood to freeze with recognition. Standing tall on the other side of the threshold, there stood two of the Avengers’ henchmen. 

“You need to come with us,” the one called Barton ordered coldly. Over the few days the gang had held you captive, you’d picked up on the names of many of the members, including the two that stood before you now. 

“What?” your chest rose and fell rapidly, “I–, please, I swear, I haven’t told a soul.”

Having them knock at your door was one thing, but even just the thought of criminals such as them knowing where you lived sent you into a spiral. 

“Yeah, we know you haven’t,” Scott put a hand on the doorframe, “that’s not why we’re here.” 

“What happened?” you murmured as you were led into one of the many sitting rooms in the mysterious manor they once again brought you to. In an armchair before you, half-empty glass of bourbon in metal hand and the sleeves rolled up on his blood-tainted shirt, there sat the big bad winter soldier himself, panting as he slowly sipped. 

Though when the sound of your voice filled the room, Bucky’s eyes only snapped up to yours for a moment before he shot a glare at his men.

“What is she doing here?” he grumbled lowly. 

“Boss, you busted your stitches,” Lang gestured tensely to the crimson slowly staining his crisp white shirt, “what else were we–”

Intersecting the conversation, the broad form of Steve stepped into the space between the gangsters and swiftly snuffed the pending argument out, “thank you, Barton, Lang,” he nodded to each of them, “you can go,” and you watched the pair that had brought you back exited the room. Shifting his weight, Bucky’s right hand man turned to you and offered you a polite smile, “Y/n, pleasure to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, not masking your disdain of the situation you’d been dragged into yet again, “I wish I could say the same…” before you shifted your eyes to the man in the chair, though still directed your question at Steve, “what do you need me to do?” 

As you shifted closer to the intimidating leader, ever drinking, surely to dull the pain, Rogers murmured as you kneeled down to assess, “I think it’s just the one on his shoulder that’s–”

“Yeah, I see it,” you cut him off, then glanced back over your shoulder at him, “do you still have that medical bag?”

“Yeah, one second,” he swiftly disappeared to fetch it, leaving you all alone with the feared mob boss. 

With the crackling fireplace off to the side as your only source of light, you cautiously raised your hands and asked, “do you mind taking this off?” motioning to the shirt he wore. 

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky sighed and sat down his glass before shrugging the item off. Though you’d stared at his bare chest for hours on end before, soaking in his reveal once again for some reason caused your heartbeat to pick up, though you swiftly averted your gaze in an attempt at staying professional. 

Not long passed before Rogers had returned with the supplies, and you’d commenced redoing his stitches. 

“So,” you murmured though your concentration, weaving his skin back together, “do I even wanna know how this happened?”

Blinking down at you, your face close to your work and therefore his skin, Bucky breathed, “probably not...” and as his stare only intensified over the next few stitches, his low timbre once again washed over you as the corners of his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, “cute PJs, by the way…”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly get a chance to change,” you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“Oh, I'm not complaining,” his gaze shifted to take in the way the cool night air had caused your nipples to become visible like pebbles beneath the thin stripy fabric, the comment making you shift tensely on your knees. 

Once the last of the knots were tied off and you’d snipped the end of the thread, you wrapped the wounds back up with clean bandages before placing the roll of gauze back into the medical bag. 

“Alright, uhm,” you shifted back, “you’re good now,” a slight winch shot through you as you watched him briefly test out his arm’s mobility, “just be careful, try not to use it too much.”

Catching your eye, he uttered softly, “thank you,” before shifting his gaze to the gangster by the door, “Rogers?” 

“Yes, boss?”

“See to it that she gets home safe.”

ONE MONTH LATER

“I’ve heard the risotto here is really good,” Peter noted as you both skimmed the menus resting on the tablecloth before you, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the restaurant cast a soft glow down upon the choices.  

“Yeah?” you briefly glanced up to catch the doctor’s eye, “well, maybe I should get that then,” you shrugged before shifting slightly in your seat, “hey,” you captured his gaze once more, “could you maybe order for me? I just need to–…” you trailed off, letting the thumb you discreetly pointed over your shoulder in the direction of the bathrooms fill out the rest of the sentence. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he nodded. 

“Great, thank you,” you smiled as you rose. The long, cobalt-blue, velvet dress you wore briefly swooshed around your legs before the soft click of your heels against the polished floors carried you through the maze of tables. 

It was the third date you’d ventured on with the kind doctor. The third one and yet you still didn’t have any feelings towards him. 

Stubbornly trying as you might, you still couldn’t get the poison out of your system and do the right thing. 

Once you exited the ladies’ room, and big breath of courage in your lungs as you pushed open the door, it all seeped out as you walked through the small hallway that connected the lavatories with the dining space, and you accidentally bumped into two figures that waited in the space. 

Unsure of who was to blame for the collision, you immediately just muttered, “oh, sorry–,” before you glanced up at the pair and your apology crumbled from your lips, your frame immediately freezing up at the recognition. 

“Listen to me. You are going to quietly walk back to your little date, tell him that you’re not feeling well and need to go home,” Stark kept his voice hushed as both he and the other gangster slowly cornered you, the other one grasping your arm to keep you in place, “and then you’re gonna come with us.”

Sucking in a breath, you then tilted your chin slightly, “and if I don’t?” 

“Then we won’t hesitate to make a scene,” Barton shifted the edge of his jacket out of the way to flash you the gun strapped beneath, “so you can either walk with us and safe a life or you can not only have a dying gangster’s blood on your hands, but also everyone in this fucking restaurant.”

With the clench of your jaw, you glared up at them and murmured, “...fine,” before you ripped your arm free and began to walk back into the dining area and the table where Peter still sat. 

Flashing you a smile as you neared, the doctor swiftly said, “so, I ordered this chardonnay that the waiter said was good. You drink wine, right?”

“I–, uhm…” your fingers clutched the back of the chair as you tried to appear as you had before, even though now you felt as if your hammering heart might spring straight out of your ribcage, “Peter, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” you briefly scrambled your brain before adding, “the hospital paged me. There was a big accident downtown.”

“Really?” he fished out his own beeper from his pocket and furrowed down at it, “I didn’t get paged, so it probably can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, but nurses shortage, you know?” 

“Right,” he nodded, disappointment slightly polluting his understanding expression. 

“I'm really sorry,” you uttered as you picked up your small purse from the chair.

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head gently, “hey, I get it,” he shrugged before waving a hand, “go.”

“Thank you,” you stood there a moment longer, unsure of how you should depart, “uhm… bye,” before you awkwardly shifted closer to his seat and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his cheek as you offered him a half-hearted hug. 

“Who is it this time?” you sighed as you were led into an elegant space, surely intended for parties judging by the long bar that stretched along the back wall. Glaring at the only man seated on one of the barstools, you asked impatiently, “is it you? Did you hurt yourself again?”

Glancing over his shoulder as you halted your stride halfway down the short steps, a smile appeared on Bucky’s face as he leaned a forearm against the bar top and bellowed, “Y/n! Come, have a drink with me,” he waved a hand for you to take the seat beside him. 

Standing your ground, you squinted back at him in confusion, “no, I can’t, I–, where’s the patient?” 

“The patient?” he echoed as if you were speaking a foreign language. 

“Yes,” you huffed, your annoyance simmering into a full-on boil, “the person who’s on death’s door, the reason why I, a medical professional, is here,” you placed your hands on your hips and asked once again, “is it you?”

“No, I’m phenomenal,” he pursed his lips as he snatched up the stout glass waiting for him on the marble counter, “never been better.”

“Okay, so who is it?”

Tearing his gaze away from you, he then uttered, “no one,” before raising the drink up to his lips. As your mouth parted and your glare nearly burned straight through him, the mobster casually added, “you look stunning, by the way,” before twisting in his seat to face you more, “I didn’t know they changed scrubs out with gowns.” 

“No, I–, I was on a date–,” you muttered faintly through your confusion, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to clear it before you raised a hand, “wait, excuse me, no one’s injured?” 

“No,” Barnes shook his head, “no one’s hurt or dying,” then added as if your reaction was a tad bit too dramatic for his taste, “you can relax, it’s fine.”

But instead, the opposite emotions roiled inside of you as you slowly ascended a single one of the remaining steps, “so you mean to tell me that your men threatened me, my date and a whole restaurant of people, then dragged me all the way out here again, for nothing?” you fumed.

“No, it wasn’t for nothing,” he shrugged, “they brought you back here because I told them to,” he kept his ocean eyes upon you as he once again repeated, “now, come drink with me.” 

“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” you roared. 

But then, just as swiftly as you had raised your voice, Bucky’s steely hand dipped beneath his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.  

“I asked you nicely,” his stern tone rolled off his tongue slowly as he aimed the weapon upon you, “now sit your ass down and share a drink with me.” 

Carefully, you finally followed his orders and sat down at the bar beside him. 

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he uttered as he sat the gun down beside his drink. Raising up a hand to the silent shadow behind the bar, a glass was soon slid across the counter, one Bukcy pushed closer towards you, “here,” he said as you stared down at the orange peel floating at the top. As you lifted up the cocktail, the gangster beside you raised his own to click yours, “cheers.”

You briefly toyed with the thought of just taking a sip, though opted instead to down it all, both out of the desperate hope that the alcohol would aid the strange evening, but also in an attempt to fast forward a tad closer to your longed-for departure, ripping the bandage off instead of nursing it all night long. 

Though as you sat the glass back down on the bar, the bottom clanged against the marble much more forcefully than you’d intended as the fingers you clutched it with began to tingle. Blinking heavily a few times, your hand accidentally knocked over the empty drink as a numbing sensation began to bloom within your chest and spread throughout your body. 

Trying to get up from your seat, you mumbled foggily, “what the hell?” though quickly stumbled as your legs felt like jelly beneath your velvet gown.

“Whoa, careful now, angel,” Bucky’s calm gaze trailed you chillingly as you tried to steady yourself. 

“The fuck did you do?” you panted as your wide eyes watched him raise from his seat. 

“It's okay,” he uttered softly, “it’s all gonna be okay,” before your world turned to black and you passed out into his arms. 

When you finally stirred, you were no longer at the bar, nor any other room you’d been in before. You were in a bedroom, situated on a spacious mattress and alongside countless fluffy maroon pillows. 

As you sat up, a low rustling found your ears and drew your vision down towards the coldness clinging around your ankle. Strung between the bottom corner of the bedframe and your own foot, there shined a chain, one that, try as you instinctively did, you couldn’t snap out of. 

But then, as the door to the room creaked open and caused your body to flinch, a plea swiftly flowed out of you as you watched Rogers step inside, balancing a small tray with a glass and a tall decanter of clear water. 

“Steve!” you crawled to the bottom of the bed, “I–… help me, please,” you begged, hearing tears thicken up your voice as they rolled down your cheeks, “you’re a good man, deep down I know you don’t wanna stand by and let this happen. Can you unlock me? Please? Help me get out of here.”

But just as you waited for Steve’s lips to part, you instead heard, “shh, don’t waste your breath, honey,” as in strolled Bucky, causing you to swiftly scramble as far back on the bed as the chain would allow. 

Sitting down in a chair just out of your reach, the fireplace opposing the bed, directly behind where he sat, clacked and lit up his spine as he settled into the seat and directed his cold gaze upon you.

“Glad to see you awake,” he uttered calmly.

“Fuck you!” you swiftly spat as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest. 

“And with all of your charms still intact,” he tilted his head, a light smirk blooming on his lips as your vulgar language hadn’t fazed him one bit. 

“Let me go,” you demanded. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, my angel,” his burly arms folded across his chest, “this is for your own protection,” he briefly gestured to the chain, “we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid or rash now, would we?” one of his eyebrows twitched, “I can’t let anything happen to you,” he uttered as you continued to stare daggers at him, “you need to be kept as safe as possible so you can keep on helping me the way that you have.”

“What? You want me to be your gang’s personal nurse?” you scoffed, “is this your sick and twisted way of offering me a job, because if so, no thanks!”

“Yeah, no, this isn’t a job offering, I’m not interested in those talents of yours,” he leaned further back in the seat before he began to explain, “you see, for the past few years, I’ve had a serious string of bad luck. Deals have fallen through, rats have been found, the feds have been snipping at our heels and countless of my men have lost their lives,” he listed off, “but, then I met you,” his eyes flickered up to capture your own, “and it all turned around,” he uttered, “I tell you, when you’re here, it’s fate herself is on my side and nothing whatsoever could go wrong. Like having you has made me a fucking god or something, that’s the level of power you’ve bestowed in me,” a faint smile tugged at his lips as those words rolled off his tongue, “so no, you can not leave. You have to stay right here where I can make sure you’re safe and sound. Although, just because you get to be kept safe, that doesn’t mean you’re free of any consequences if you step out of line… it also doesn’t mean that I’ll deny anyone of your beauty if it pleases them… so, I guess it’s more along the lines of you just staying alive under my watch.” 

In the blind rage his words threw you into, your fingers wrapped around the bedside lamp before you chucked it across the room. Though just before it could strike the gangster’s head, he casually ducked out of the way, the lamp instead smashing on the floor behind him as a chuckle began to rumble within his chest. 

“That’s cute,” he laughed lowly, “you’ve got some bite. It’ll get you in trouble, but it’s adorable.” 

“I'm not interested in being your good luck charm, you superstitious fuck!” you yelled as he got up from his seat. 

Huffing out a condescending grin, “give it some time, angel,” he fastened the button on his dark suit jacket before smoothing a palm down over the front, “the human psyche is much more fragile than you’d think and can get used to some surprising conditions,” he ignored the scream that desperately tore from your lungs and instead turned to Steve standing by the door and asked him calming, “Rogers, would you mind cleaning that up?” gesturing to the broken lamp on the floor, and as he received a small nod in return, he murmured, “thank you,” before exiting the room and leaving you to your fate. 

“Seriously?” Steve let out a laugh when he finally coaxed the truth out as to why you hadn’t been touching any of the food they’d brought you, “and here I thought you were just a picky eater.” 

“Well, you’ve already drugged me once so what’s stopping you from doing it again,” you explained, glaring down at the plate before you as he attempted to stifle his laughter. 

“I swear, cross my heart, your pasta is not poisoned.”

Continuing to squint down at the food, you kissed your teeth, “prove it.”

“Really?” his brows floated up, “alright,” he sighed as he sat down across from you. Dragging your plate closer, he twirled some of the spaghetti onto the fork before slipping it into his mouth, “see?” he chewed, “I’m fine, and so will you be when you get some food in that belly of yours.”

Pushing it back towards you, hesitantly, you picked up the fork and slowly began to eat. It had only been little things you’d consumed the past couple of days being here, things you could be certain weren’t tainted, like the odd apple and such. 

Though as you chewed and finally began to settle your stomach’s nauseating rumbling, tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

No matter how hard you tried to beg, none of the mobsters would help you, as their loyalty was just too hard for you to crack. 

“Hey…” your bloodshot eyes then flickered up to Rogers as he noticed your weeping, “it’ll get easier, I promise,” he attempted in a soft tone. 

“How?” you blinked back at him hopelessly, “I am being locked up in a room by a maniac as if I’m just some trinket for him to own.” 

Throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, he then leaned in a bit closer to cautiously advise you, “…there might be some things you could do to change your situation…”

“What?” a spark suddenly flickered within you, “I’d do anything.”

“…you might consider trying to get closer to Barnes…” his words remained hesitant, “…if he begins to care for you, then he might treat you differently…”

“Like, he’d let me go?” 

“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “but maybe it could get that chain off your ankle,” he gestured to your foot, “baby steps.” 

ONE MONTH LATER

“Here,” Steve croaked as he suddenly burst through the doors to your room, a big flat box in his arms which he tossed on the bed beside you. Peeking inside, a folded-up bundle of black fabric met your eye, “put it on,” he ordered hastily, “make yourself presentable.”

“Why?” you blinked up at him, your brows knitting gently together. 

“Because the boss requested it,” he answered impatiently. 

“What, he wants to play dress up with me now? Treat me like a doll?”

Over the past month, you had gone from being scared out of your mind, barely sleeping at night, horrified of what they might do to you, till the paralysing fear slowly began to melt away as not much happened at all, in fact so little that you grew bored in your imprisonment, thinking that the big bad gangsters were just all bark and no bite. Perhaps that was a dangerous confidence to develop, growing cocky in your restlessness, but you couldn’t help it. 

Letting out a low sigh, “just put it on,” Rogers’ head tilted before he said, “I’ll be outside, yell when you’re done.”

Popping the lid off all the way, you then slipped into the black gown waiting within. It was long and simple in its beauty as it hugged all of your curves like a second skin. 

Right before you called out to the mobster in the hallway, you leaned in closer to the mirror on the left side of the room. The dark storm clouds visible out the gothic windows that filled up the wall behind you blossomed in the reflection alongside you as you momentarily fussed with your hair to make it match the elegant dress better. 

Once Steve had entered the room once again, the very last thing you expected was what he did next. 

Walking straight up to you, without a word, he bent down and unlocked the chain binding you to the bedpost. At first, a wave of hope washed over you till it was drowned out by the unsettling notion as to where he would take you and just what plans were on the horizon. 

Grabbing you by the arm, he dragged you out of the room and down the dark hallway you’d only seen glimpses of before. You tried to ask him what was going on, though he didn’t offer you any clue in return, only remained silent as he hauled you through the maze-like manor till a wide set of steps found you, leading you down into a garage where a group of the other gangsters already stood beside the black car rolled up by the base of the stairs. 

Standing in the middle with an arm resting against the roof of the vehicle, Bucky’s gaze swiftly landed upon you as you ascended the stone steps. 

“Well,” the mob boss’ eyes roamed your form, “don’t you look pretty.”

Biting your tongue, you greeted him politely, “Mr Barnes.”

“Shall we go?” he cracked open one of the car doors. 

“Where?” you tried, though your question only caused him to breathe out a smile as he ignored it and instead commanded softly. 

“Get in the car, angel,” his metal arm rested atop the door. 

Riding in a different vehicle than you, it was Clint who slipped in behind the wheel of your car and drove you the silent route towards the mysterious destination. 

Though once the car came to a stop, the door to your left cracked open from the outside and there to greet you was an outstretched metal hand to help you exit. 

You didn’t recognise the building that loomed before you, though it was grand and opulent with large steps leading you and all the other arrivals up to what sounded like a party already buzzing on.

“So, you needed a date,” you exhaled as Barnes took your arm and began to lead you up the stairs, a cluster of his men shadowing behind you both. 

“No,” he cocked his head, “I didn’t need it...”

Casting your glance around at the other guests that passed, you asked, “what kinda party is this anyway? Let me guess, human trafficking auction?” you were completely serious, though still managed to make the gangster laugh gently. 

“It’s a wedding,” his chuckle finished billowing out of his lungs, “or a funeral,” he tilted his head, “I'm not quite sure.”

“How could you not be sure?” you shot him a glance as you reached the top of the steps and he dragged you inside the marbled halls, “there’s a pretty significant difference.”

“They all just kinda melt together at this point,” he sighed, “I have at least one of these a week I gotta show my face at, just out of respect.” 

Taking a look around, you uttered, “well, do you at least know who this funeral wedding is for?”

“No fucking clue,” he exhaled before following the signs and leading you into the venue’s ballroom.

Turns out it was a wedding for some couple you hadn’t yet spotted, though you’d already read their names a thousand times with all the stuff they were plastered upon. 

You stayed quiet and lingered by Bucky’s side as he shook some people’s hands and made some small talk before the two of you found yourselves seated at one of the many round tables in the hall. 

Blinking up at the floral centrepiece, your fingers fiddled with the white tablecloth as the hours rolled by. Soon, not only the complementary glass of champagne you’d been handed back when you arrived was sloshing in your belly, but also quite a bit more alcohol as you decided that was a good tool to make the evening more bearable. 

It however also came with the hindrance of boosting your cockiness as you eventually found yourself poking the bear. 

“You know for a big bad gangster,” you stared over at him, leaned back in the seat next to yours, “you’re actually not that scary up close,” you pursed your lips, causing a chuckle to rumble within his chest because of just how untrue that statement was, “smiling at everyone, being polite. Are you sure you really are the big bad winter solider? The king of New York with no heart and only an imagination for torture…”

“Well…” he huffed out a short laugh as he met your gaze, “don’t you have me just all figured out.”

“Some of your guys may have filled me in a bit,” you tilted your head. 

“Have they now?” he continued to look amused. 

“Yeah, well, a bit at least,” you seized your glass and took another sip.

As you placed the flute back down on the table and rested your cheek in a propped-up palm, your stare only intensified into a squint as Bucky’s eyes flickered back around the room.

But as his gaze fluttered back to notice your gawking, he muttered, “what?”

“Why aren’t you mean tonight?” you uttered through the haze fuzzing up your mind. 

Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly dipped before he uttered, “do you want me to be mean?” a playful smirk twitched at the corner of his lip in a threat to appear. 

“Is it all just a lie?” you asked, the subtext of his previous words flowing directly over your dizzy head. 

“What?”

Squinting back at him, you then breathed, “there’s always a part of me that’s still scared, imagining what you might do to me… but now,” you slowly drew out, “I don’t think you’re actually ever gonna do anything,” you blindly decided, “that’s not really who you are, they’re all just empty threats…” 

“Hm…” he hummed, a slight smile blooming upon his lips as he stared back at you, “okay…” before he leaned in closer to utter, “and just what makes you think that I haven’t already?” your face immediately dropped as his words caused your frame to freeze up, “tell me, Y/n,” his breath fanned across your cheeks, “did you sleep well last night? Or the night before for that matter, or–, well, just during the time you’ve spent here with me?”

As your shock not only showed in your expression but also in your complete lack of speech, he simply grinned back at your stunned features before grabbing you by the hand and breaking the moment. 

“Come on,” he dragged you with him as he then stood up himself, “let’s dance.”

With an argument on the tip of your tongue, the appendage, just as the rest of you, still remained too dumbfounded for it to come to fruition. You didn’t manage to gather your wits once again till he had you on the middle of the floor, wide hand on your waist as you swayed to the music. 

As his hold slowly tightened and he brought you closer to his broad frame, your breath suddenly hitched as you blinked up into his eyes, the air between you growing thick. The hand that grasped your own near swallowed your palm in a dizzying contrast. Goosebumps began to erupt across your skin as you felt your heartbeat thump not only in your chest, but also much further south, a mortifying clue to the dark truth you hoped he didn’t somehow notice. 

Gliding his palm up the length of your spine, it came to rest between your shoulder blades as he then drew you in closer and your gaze fell to the band strumming over his shoulder. 

“Does the thought of me playing with you at night turn you on?” he whispered in your ear and continued to gently sway you to the music, “because if you want me to wake you, all you have to do is ask. Though my attempts so far at rubbing your luck off on me have been rather eventful, I’m still sure it would be better if you gave me a bit of a hand…” 

Tilting your head back to blink up at him, you thought you were gonna spit him in the face for making such an accusation, till your stare acted of its own accord and fluttered down to fixate on his lips. 

It almost felt as if they were calling for you, begging you closer like a stubborn magnet. But before you could close the short distance that kept you two apart, Barton appeared in your periphery and tapped his boss on the shoulder. 

As he leaned in to whisper in his ear, you couldn’t pick up on the words over the music, though watched as Bucky’s face swiftly grew hard. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as the secretive message came to an end and the mobster’s wide hands faded from your frame. 

Ignoring your question, Bucky instead cast his glance over your head at one of the men behind you and ordered sternly, “Stark? Get her home, now.”

“What’s happening?” you tried again, though without success as Tony dragged you away and the remaining gathered to converse in hushed tones.

Perhaps it was because of the chaos of whatever was happening, perhaps just a simple mistake, but when you returned back to the manor, the shackle wasn’t reunited with your ankle. 

Not willing to let that gift slip through your fingers, you soon grasped that opportunity tight and made an attempt at your escape. 

Sneaking down the many hallways, you successfully hid from a handful of gruff-looking men before you realised you couldn’t remember the path to the garage or any other way out of the labyrinth of a building that kept you swallowed in the dark. 

However, your mission turned into a swiftly sinking ship as soon as you rounded the wrong corner and crossed the threshold of the last room you should have entered. 

In the centre of the space stood two chairs, both with individuals strapped to them, though only one of them was still alive. Before the seated pair and with his back turned to your frozen-up form, there stood Bucky. Returned from the party and with both his jacket and tie torn off, his sleeves were rolled up though still tainted in small crimson flecks of the deed he’d just done. 

“Come on, Vladimir…” Barnes uttered as he kneeled down in front of the battered man still breathing, neither he nor the other members in the room haven noticed you in the doorway, “just give me what I want and we can wrap this up.”

Wheezing painfully through his broken nose, the man met Bucky’s steely gaze before fulfilling his request, “…I’m sorry…”

“Hm?” he leaned in pettily, “what was that?”

“I’m sorry,” the tied-up man repeated with a laboured huff.

“Okay, getting there,” he nodded, “what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for killing Bruce…” the name rolled off Vladimir’s tongue like a crackle to a bonfire. 

“And?” Bucky fished. 

“For hurting you…” 

“See? That wasn’t so bad now,” Barnes straightened back up, “an apology, a life for the one you took from me, and now there’s just one last thing left to do, and then we’re even,” he then took one step back and conjured his gun. Aiming it at the Russian, barely a second passed before a shot deafened everyone’s ears and a bullet blasted through the tied-up man’s arm, mirroring the injuries Bucky himself had sustained. The loud blast and the bloodcurdling scream that tore from Vladimir, however, caught you so off guard that a shriek slipped from you as you flinched, revealing your presence as everybody’s eyes suddenly shifted to train on you. Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky grunted, “what are you doing out? What is she doing out?” he shot his glare in the direction of Steve off to the side, “Rogers? Get her back into bed.”

“Yes, boss,” his right-hand man swiftly nodded before catching up to you in two long steps and seizing your arm. 

And as you were dragged back to your doom, your eyes caught the tail end as Barnes let out a sigh and turned back around to face his victim, “now, where were we? Right! I believe the other one was right around here,” another gunshot echoed in the manor as he shot Vladimir’s arm once more, “and now, we can’t forget about the ones that only skimmed me, so get up and don’t fucking flinch, it’s on you if I hit your lung.”

The chain reunited with your ankle jingled as you twisted on the bed to cast your gaze out the window. Heavy rain hammered against the tall panes as the restless city twinkled through the darkness of the night. In the corner of the room, Steve watched up like a hawk as you continuously failed to find rest. 

But then, just as you thought you felt your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, the double doors burst open and in paced Bucky. 

“Is she awake?” he huffed, though didn’t wait for an answer before he heatedly went on, “okay, great.”

As his rushed steps halted by the foot of your bed, the look in his eye caused your body to shudder.  

“Rogers?” he kept his cold stare glued on you as he uttered, “go wait outside.”

Though you silently pleaded with your eyes for the mobster to stay, it was no use as Steve swiftly shut the doors behind him. 

As the man before you then shifted, your wide eyes finally noticed the bundle of rope in his grasp as he began to unravel it. Scrambling back, you didn’t manage to crawl far away before Bucky caught the chain and yanked it hard enough to force your frame down towards him. Though your struggling finally fizzled out when the gangster pulled out his gun, the very gun he’d just ended a life with, and aimed it at your head to get you to comply. 

“You know,” he uttered gruffly like a pent-up bull, “I’ve been nice, I’ve been real well behaved, kept my manners intact, been a goddamn gentleman,” the heavy weapon in his hand tilted slightly to emphasise his words, “but evidently, that’s not what you need to learn your fucking place,” he fumed before letting out a low exhale, “that’s alright…”

“Bucky, please,” tears blurred your vision as you held up your palms, “I-I understand, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Oh, but I do…” he sighed almost softly as he then kneeled down closer and let the tip of the cool barrel stroke your cheek, “…if you don’t break a horse, then she’ll never be tamed…” his eyes trailed after the line he drew before it flickered up to find your own, “now give me your hands,” he ordered and hesitantly, you shakily obeyed. 

Since you couldn’t stay in your place, he simply had to tie you down better. 

Unfurling the rope in his grasp, the mobster then fastened the cord around not only both of your wrists, but also your free ankle. After each of the tight knots were tied off, he yanked each appendage to the nearest corner of the bedframe, spreading your limbs till you looked like a starfish on the mattress. 

Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his fingers then dipped down into his pocket before a slight furrow found his brow as his touch didn’t locate the item he fished for. Placing the heavy gun in his palm down on the fireplace mantel, he then closed the distance towards the exit and cracked open the door just a smidge. 

“Rogers?” he extended a hand through the sliver, “give me your knife,” to which a switchblade was swiftly placed in his palm, replacing his own which was still lodged deeply inside the corpse of the Russian in the other room. 

Slamming the door behind him, he then crossed the room and silently began to cut your clothes off. The black gown you still wore came off with only a few slices, though your underwear, that he took his time with, slowly grazing the blade over your goosebump-ridden flesh before nicking the cotton clinging tightly to your frame. 

Once you were bare before him, his feet shuffled back slightly as he let his stare soak up every millimetre of you. 

A hand floated up to tug on his tie and loosen it slightly from around the collar still dappled with the blood of his enemy. Folding closed the knife with a faint flourish, he then sank down into the armchair directly behind him. The tattered panties he’d sliced from you were still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes stayed glued upon your frame. Bringing the fabric up to his nose, his blue eyes then fluttered closed for a second as he breathed deeply, letting the scent of you flood his senses. 

But as he stuffed the cotton down into his pocket and let his palm drift to somewhere else, your eyes grew even wider as you gasped, “what are you–”

“Just shut up, please,” he groaned, sounding like he was at his very last straw as he brashly began to rub himself through his pants, “just for one fucking second, don’t be a brat.”

Your jaw couldn’t help but hit the floor as he shamelessly pulled out his cock, letting the intimidating hardness spring free of its confines before he spit in his palm and enclosed his fist around the fat girth. You wanted to look away, you truly did, but you just couldn’t, a flaw he obviously noticed. 

“You’re unbelievable…” he chuckled as his fist silkily stroked up and down his cock, the mixture of his own spit and the precum beading at the tip caused a sloppy melody to fill the room at each and every twist, “I mean, me being into you, that’s one thing, that makes sense, you’re the closest thing to magic that I’ve ever experienced, so of course that’s enough to get me going, but you… you’re the very textbook definition of a good girl and here you are pining after–, how was it again you put it? A superstitious fuck?” 

Stunned at his accusation, you tried to tear your stare away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Well, I didn’t take you for a fool, but hey,” he tilted his head, “some folks are just that disconnected to their own feelings.”

Blinking back at him, you scoffed faintly, “you’re crazy, I’m not–…” but you couldn’t even say it out loud as you, deep down, knew that it was a lie. 

“Oh yeah?” he cocked a brow, finding your flustered state amusing, “then why did you almost kiss me tonight?”

“I–…I was drunk.” 

Letting out a dark chuckle, “alright, sure,” he then rose from his seat and crawled up on the bed with you before he buried his face between your parted thighs, “if you despise me so much, then why are you so fucking wet?” his hot breath fanned across your core. 

“I’m not–,” you tried, though your attempt then fell short as he proved you wrong, reaching out his touch to tickle at your lightly and let the wet sounds of your arousal slosh into your soul. 

“Hm?” the broad pad of his thumb gently brushed over your glistening petals, making them part for him, “if this isn’t because deep down you want me, then why? I’d love to hear you try and explain your way out of this one…”

“I-I–…” your eyes fluttered as you tried to fight the feeling, “I don’t…” 

Laughing lightly through the scoff that then bubbled out of him, he averted his gaze and said, “okay, fine. You wanna play that game?” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “if you need a bit of help in order to admit the truth, then that’s what you’ll get,” he uttered before suddenly stuffing two of his fingers inside of you. 

Craning his neck, he tilted down to catch a taste. You tried to hold back your moans as his digits caressed you, but the softness of his velvety tongue came as such a shock that a little squeak managed to slip out past your lips. 

“I mean, if it’s any consolation,” his stubbly chin glimmered with your essence as he retracted slightly to smirk, “I personally think it’s kinda cute that you have a crush on me like a little schoolgirl…” 

He then sent his palm down upon your pussy in a wet smack, before repeating the action a couple of times to echo the jolt it shot through your body. 

“Fuck…” he groaned in a low rumble, “you are so much more pretty awake…” he revealed casually, “sure, you make some cute noises in your sleep, but not like this,” you instinctually tried to stifle the uncontrollable whimpers that flowed from your lungs, “you should really be thanking me for all of the time and effort I’ve put into stretching this little hole of yours out,” his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, “if I hadn’t, well then you might just split in two when I finally get my cock in there.” 

And as he leaned down to lap you up once more, you curled your toes as you felt him push you closer to the edge. 

“Mr Barnes…” you attempted with an air of respect through your pants, “please don’t–…”

“Why? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?” he teasingly taunted you before continuing his persistent licks, bullying your clit into submission. 

And as he kept going, even as you gasped, “stop–, a-ah!” he still kept his lips locked around your puffy pearl long after a gush of squirt wept around his fingers, keeping his efforts up till your hips were bucking back in sensitivity. 

But when his kiss finally ceased, he let some of your juices, that had flooded into his mouth, trickle out past his lips and back down onto your pussy, “fuck…” his low groan nearly caused the whole room to rumble, “nasty little cunt…” before he slapped your throbbing core once more, watching as the last little trickle weakly leaked out and soaked the sheets below. 

Lifting himself up to hover above your constricted form, you then squirmed as you felt him nudge the bulbous tip of him against you. 

“Does the idea of liking, or even loving, someone like me scare you that much?” he uttered as he gathered up your slick and smeared it with his cock, “does it make you feel all wrong and icky inside that I of all people make you feel the way that you do?” 

All of the air in your lungs was then suddenly knocked clean out as he, with one long stroke, slipped all the way inside, before pulling right back out to tap the weight of him against your poor clit with the hold he had at his base. 

“You won’t spontaneously combust if you admit it out loud, you know…”

He repeated the motion, plugging you up completely before he denied your cunt the chance of getting used to the stretch. 

“I just wanna hear you say it…”

And on the next time he filled you up to the brim, this time his hips didn’t retract.

Reeling as you fought to comprehend the manner his girth split you open, you gasped weakly, “I can’t…”

“Hmm…” his eyes above you narrowed slightly before he pointed out, “that’s not a no,” and he began to move, “finally getting somewhere…”

The gangster was in no way gentle as he started to fuck your pussy, the selfish force of it caused your body to jostle every time his heavy balls tapped against your slick skin, thereby conducting a lewd beat each time he slammed into you. 

Lowing himself to get even closer to you, his nose ghosted against your own from the proximity. The gesture made you assume that he was about to press his lips to yours, though they never touched, even as your own instincts overwhelmed you and made you dizzily tilt up to try and close the gap, “nah-ah-ah,” he swiftly clicked his tongue and moved out of your reach, “admit the truth and then I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With his length still embedded deep within you, he sat back up. His fingers dented your hips as he grabbed onto them and then began to sink them harshly down against his own, lifting your frame entirely off of the mattress as he used you like a toy. 

“Oh god…” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered down to notice the faint bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, the thrusting imprint of his size visibly showing just how deep he buried himself inside of you. 

Once he’d plopped your hips back down onto the bed, his hands then instead floated up to play with your tits, the rhythm he offered you causing them to jiggle in his palms. Though once he’d fiercely pinched your nipples and parted ways in a brief tap, his fingers then drifted further down south till his right hand found your puffy clit. 

Casting his glance down as he rubbed your pearl, a smirk appeared on his lip as he spotted the way your cream coated his girth. Sweeping down to smear his touch against it, what he did next caught you so off guard that you jostled wildly in your binds in an attempt to hit him for his audacity.

“Ahh!” you yelped as he stuffed two of his fingers in your pussy alongside his already overwhelming girth, “Buck, no, it’s too much!” 

But your squeak only caused him to chuckle as he stared down at the way your little hole struggled to take what he gave it, clinging around him so tightly that loud groans began to billow from him as he soon painted your insides white and pumped you full of his cum. 

With heavy breaths, he withdrew his dick, though let his digits stay inside your warmth. 

“Maybe in time you could become more than just my good luck charm…” he murmured as he flopped down to curl closer to your core, “would you like that?” he nipped at one of your thighs as his load slowly began to leak around his thick fingers, “does the idea of me falling down to my knees before you and declaring my undying love entice you, angel?” 

“You’ll just have to do better,” he continued as his digits began to twist within you, “let me mould you and make you perfect for me,” another one of his fingers was stuffed inside of you, causing your eyes to flutter, “just let go,” he breathed, “shut off your brain and let it become a leaky mess just like your pussy already is for me,” he worked another digit into your creamy cunt before grazing the last one against your stretched out opening, “you don’t need to think, you just need to do exactly as I tell you to and everything will be okay,” his tone was soft as his thumb curled close to the others and sank into your pussy with a pop, “just break for me, it’s okay,” your body was shaking beneath him as his entire fist slowly twisted within you, “you’ll be so much more perfect ruined…”

Tears were streaming down your face as you unravelled once more, trembling violently as your pussy clamped down around his wide hand so tightly that it was forced all the way out, a drizzle of your nectar once again spraying out at the intensity. 

“Alright!” you let out a sob, “alright… I–… I don’t understand it… but, I–…” you caught his eye and confessed, “ever since the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… even when I fall asleep, it’s like you’re haunting me in my dreams…” a faint shake found your head as you blinked up at him through your blurry vision, “I don’t wanna feel this way. But–… I do.”

It seemed as though time stood still as Bucky stared down at you, an unreadable expression tinting his features before he finally shifted, slowly leaning down over you and inching closer before he finally pressed his lips to your own.

A faint whimper was muffled against his kiss as you felt the world crumble around you. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it now…” he breathed as he ended the soft peck, “say it again,” his hand slid over your jaw, “practice makes perfect.”

Blinking up into his eyes, you uttered from the bottom of your heart, “I am yours,” a single tear rolled down your cheek as you still trembled beneath him. 

“Damn right you are…” his lips tilted into a smile. 

Fishing out the borrowed switchblade that still rested within the gangster’s pocket, he then sliced through the ropes and constricted you. 

Tangling your arms around his neck as you sat up, you captured his lips once again and felt his touch slide down under your ass before he scooped you into his lap. Your sore pussy wept against his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock against your core. As your tongue danced against his own, you couldn’t help but scramble even closer, pressing your body impossibly close to his own as you grinded down against him. 

“You are mine,” he groaned as he manhandled your frame in his hold and sank you back down onto his fat dick, “you are my most prized possession,” your bodies met in sticky claps as the aftermath of the rough round moments before still oozed all over this one where passion crackled behind both of your own desperate efforts, “I will never let you go,” he blinked up into your eyes as you rode him, both of you clinging to each other as the end crept ever nearer, “always need you–,” his sentence was briefly broken up by a moan as you rolled your hips, your pussy gripping around him and squeezing him tightly, “need you by my side…” 

Once your synced-up orgasms had both shuddered your senses and you were sharing each other’s breath, your eyes remained locked as his throbbing cock stayed buried deep within you.

“So, what now?” your chest rose and fell as you whispered into the night, the pitter-patter of rain splashing against your windows once again catching your attention as it swept over and mingled with your laboured pants of breath.  

Not shifting his gaze, his eyes briefly scanned your own in search of any ounce of deception, before his fingers dipped down into his pocket and conjured a tiny key, “now,” and he stretched down to undo the chain at your ankle. The click of the lock felt like a gasp of real air was finally filling your depraved lungs, “I take you to my room,” and he manoeuvred you around to slink one arm in behind your knees while the other stayed fast at your spine. As he rose from the bed, he plucked you up with him as well, carrying you in his hold as he exited the bedroom. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lanabuckybarnes]

Sergeant’s Got You

18+ Minors DNI

You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags

Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader

Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*

You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.

Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn��t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.

“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.

You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.

You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.

He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.

“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.

He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.

He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.

“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.

He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.

He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.

“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.

“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.

“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.

“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.

“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.

“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.

Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.

“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.

“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.

He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.

Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.

“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.

Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.

His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.

“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.

You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.

“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.

“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.

“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.

“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.

“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.

“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.

He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.

He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.

His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.

“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.

His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.

“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.

You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.

Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.

“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.

“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.

“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.

He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.

He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.

“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.

With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.

“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.

He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.

“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.

“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.

“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.

“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.

His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.

You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.

“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.

“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”

“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.

“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.

“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.

Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.

-

So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.

I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.

I hope you enjoyed x

(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)

[jazziejax]

𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Michael B.Jordan x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - The Sinners premiere…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of gross bodily fluids, twin nephews, rpf…

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I don’t know why I wrote this, I had an idea (that I still might do, because it invoked trailride MBJ…) and I felt like I needed context to the characters connection, so I wrote this. But it was also commenting to get different dynamics and creativity flowing. Sorry for any grammar mistakes or spelling errors.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 3,314+

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

“Will you stop rubbin’ your hands on the dress? You’re gonna get the fabric all spotty with your sweat.” The southern lily from the older woman next to her rang out in the black SUV. Her words were aimed at the woman sitting next to her, whose gaze was focused on the passing New York scenery out of the tinted window.

“The dress is black, you wouldn’t see it anyway.” The woman responded, not taking her eyes away from the yellow cabs she still wasn’t used to seeing, and she always had the same thought whenever she saw them soled by. Do people still even use taxi’s?

“Well, first off, the dress is a dark navy blue.” The woman next to her added, not missing a beat as she stared at her extremely nervous sister. “And second, not matter what, those camera are gonna catch those spots of oil and sweat.”

“Mentioning the cameras is not going to make me feel any less nervous, Ebony.” The other woman spoke back up, turning her head away from the window, blinking as she took in a sight other than the moving city, in what felt like hours. Her eyes automatically connected with ones that mirrored her own. The big brown orbs of her sister, a woman with a face so similar to hers, simply blinked as she pursed her lips.

“I want trying to make you feel any less nervous. I’m just telling you the truth so you’re not angry at the world later when you see photos of spots on your dress.” The woman, Ebony, answered sassily. “Ivory.” She added at the end, moving the girls walker comment.

Ivory rolled her eyes as she let out a small groan, slumping back in her seat and training her eyes back out of the window. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” She groaned.

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t eat.” Ebony grinned, moving her hand over to give the woman a small pat on the arm. Ivory cut her eyes to her sister, giving her a lethal side eye as she blinked hard. “I can throw you stomach acid.”

“You can only do that when you’re sick.” Ebony stated.

“Well I had a pop tart last night as a midnight snack and I still haven’t pooped out of sheer nervousness.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna throw up a pop tart.”

“Can you two quit your fussin’?” Another voice chimed into the conversation, causing both women’s eyes to move to the passenger seat of the SUV, where a teen girl that sat, dressed all nice with her make up and hair did. Her body was angled to look back at them, and she gave a sheepish smile at the cold glares she received in response. “Sorry.” She said, letting out a small laugh before she sat back in her seat correctly.

“Well I’m not.” Another voice chimed in, but this time from behind the women. It was a male voice, though not anything deep. The sister in the front didn’t even tune to look back at him, and he didn’t seemed to care as he continued. “I don’t want to hear about vomit and poo right now. And especially not my TT’s.” He said, letting out a small groan.

Ebony looked back at that, looking her son in the eye. “We’re all family here, Nasir, you can hear about your aunts bowl movements. It’s totally normal.” She said, and the car was instantly filled with laughs, though the woman was very serious.

“Yeah, Nas, don’t ruin the familial mood with your antisocial behavior.” Another male voice chimed in. Nasir sucked his teeth as she looked over at the male next to him, who shared his exact face. “Shut the hell up, Cai.”

“Uh!” Ebony, Ivory, and the girl in the front seat, all chimed in simultaneously, turning to look back at him.

“What your mouth, mister.”

“Nasir, you might be grown, but I’m still your mother. Don’t you use that language in front of me, you hear?”

“Oooo.”

Nasir smacked his lips, his down turned eyes blinking as he looked between his aunt and Mom. “My bad.” His eyes the drifted to the girl in the passenger seat, who was looking at him with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Moriah, quit being annoying. You’re acting like a child.” He hissed.

“It doesn’t matter how I act, I’m younger than you and you’re a man. Deal with it.” The girl deadpanned, not even bothering to acknowledge a response as she turned back around in her seat. Facing forward again made her glance over at the driver when the car started slowing down. She pursed her lips at the older white man. “Sorry about my family, they’re a bit country and immature.” She apologized playfully, in a tone that was meant to be low, but she knew her nosy family was listening. And it wasn’t like the statement wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Moriah!” The girl heard the entire back of the car yell at her, but she ignored them as she watched the old man chuckle. “It’s fine, car rides like this are my favorite. Better than the silence or whatever they play on the radio nowadays.” He said, his Italian accent a bit thick and something unlike Moriah’s ever heard with ear won ears. She was fascinated being in the Big Apple.

“Well, I’m glad you find amusement in this circus.” The nineteen year old girl continued. “So, how long you been doing this here job?” She asked.

“Not long, not longer than most. I’ve been driving around celebrities for about eight years now.” He said.

“What’s it like?”

“Rich, stop questioning him. That’s rude.” Ivory said. “Yeah, you sound like the police.” Cairo added from the far back, not even looking up from his phone. The girl was about to turn around in her seat, for the hundredth time again, to say something smart or her brother, but was stopped by the older gentleman speaking. “No, it’s alright. I like the question.” He stated. “The jobs not all too bad, but I’ve always been sort of an…observant man. And the stories that I have?…Let’s just say that my daughter love them.” He said, causing the car to erupt in light chuckles. “You all remind me of my family.” He added. “Very authentically yourself. I like that about you.”

“I don’t.” Ivory added, a small smile on her face as she looked out the window. Moriah let out a small gasp at that, looking back at her aunt. “What?” She asked, and though she tried to mock offense, the grin that was appearing on her face gave away her joke to those who knew before she even said it. “Why can’t be ourselves, huh? Why can’t I be me? Are you ashamed of us?”

“Very.” Ebony and Ivory said at the same time, and the car was instantly loud with laughter from them, though the joke might not have been fully understood on Ebony and the drivers end. And it seemed that was just the moment that was needed before the family had to exit the car, the vehicle slowing down making them privacy to the premier that was happening right outside. Moriah let out a small gasp again, moving to roll down her window a bit, and the loud city instantly met their ears over the already boisterous hustle and bustle that was New York City. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m at a movie premiere!” Moriah squealed with a large grin on her face.

Ivory, who was looking out of the window at the crowd full of screaming fans and flashing cameras with a dar away look in her, let out a small hum. “Me neither.” She mumbled. She blinked as the car pulled closer and closer to where they would have to get out and then walk the carpet. They pulled in beside some other cars and a gentleman in a black suit with an ear piece walked over and opened, Ivory’s door. They pulled in girl looked back at her sister one last time, knowing they would have to get it at another spot and then walk the carpet with her.

“The dress is black, not navy.” She said before getting out and closing the door behind her. And through she was nervous, her face held a small grin as she placed her hand on the man’s arm and he began to lead her away, all while she heard the sound of Mariah’s faint laugh since her window was still down.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

The second Ivory’s heel touched the pavement, the world seemed to shift. Flashes from cameras exploded in front of her, bright and blinding, like tiny bolts of lightning striking her from every direction. The sound of the crowed became a muffled roar in her ears. A mixture of excited screams, shouted questions, and pulsing music from somewhere nearby all vibrated against her chest.

For a moment, she just stood there, feeling rooted to the spot almost like a deer in the headlights as she waited to step onto the carpet. And as soon as she did, it was like switch had been flipped as she beamed and waved at those around her. She tilted her chin up, pasted on a small but dazzling smile, and stepped fully onto the carpet.

The flashes only intensified as she moved forward, one slow and careful footstep after another, her hand gently skimming the fabric at her side to make sure she didn’t trip. Her dark…navy or black—she still wasn’t sure—dress shimmered under the lights, the silky fabric catching in the breeze.

“IVORY! IVORY, OVER HERE!”

“WHO ARE YOU WEARING?!”

“LOOK THIS WAY, BABY!”

The paparazzi were barking her name now, their voices cutting through the chaos. Ivory turned her head toward the shouting, her smile widening into something more natural, though it was mainly out of the pure nervousness she was feeling, showcasing her silver fanged grills. She adjusted her shoulders the way Ebony had instructed a hundred times — roll them back, open your chest, make yourself look taller — and tried her best not to blink against the assault of camera flashes. She struck another pose after pose, just a simple shift of her weight to one hip and a tilt of her head — and heard the reaction: a louder flurry of clicks and a few whistles from the crowd. She even gave a then a better show of her plated teeth, bringing her manicured nails up to pull lightly at her glossed lips, showing her silver canines, top and bottom. Another frenzy.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the sheer ridiculousness of how big all of this felt. But Ivory found herself laughing. A soft, genuine little chuckle that she tried to suppress but couldn’t quite keep inside.

And just like that, it wasn’t so terrifying anymore.

A man with a clipboard approached, motioning her forward toward the backdrop where more photographers stood.

Ivory walked with careful, deliberate steps, remembering every tip Ebony had crammed into her brain: small strides, no stomping, soft hands, relaxed face. She reached the backdrop and turned slightly, letting the train of her dress fan out behind her as she poked her leg out of her slit. The photographers barked at her again:

“TO YOUR LEFT!”

“GIVE US THAT SMILE!”

“SHOW US THE RING!”

Ivory blinked. Ring?

Oh — right. She had thrown on a few pieces of jewelry last minute, including a silver ring she wore on her right hands middle singer, one that she stated prior was her and Ebony’s good luck charms. She was surprised someone even revered that, and who ever said that had obviously done their research on her prior. She lifted her hand a little, showcasing the ring without making it obvious she had no clue what she was doing.

More flashes. More shouting.

The nerves were still there, fluttering like birds in her chest — but now, something else joined them.

Excitement.

Pride.

A growing sense of, Hey…maybe I belong here after all.

And even as she had that thought, those words quickly morphed into an all too familiar voice. One that’s been saying those exact words to her for months now. One that paired with a handsome face and brought her a warm feeling to her heart. She turned as she was posing, and it was as if her thoughts simply conjured him up. She spotted the familiar face out of the corner of her eye, but soon an another staff member waved at her, signaling it was time to start the walk down the carpet for interviews awaited.

Ivory gathered her courage, gave one last smile to the screaming crowd and the flashing cameras and turned toward the next part of the night.

Behind her, the flashbulbs popped like fireworks.

Ahead of her, the adventure of a lifetime was just beginning.

════════════ ⭑.ᐟ ════════════

Ivory’s heels clicked softly against the carpet as she made her way toward the first interviewer. A woman with a sparkling microphone and an even sparklier smile waved her down, and Ivory paused in front of her, smoothing a hand over her hip.

“IVORY!” The woman chirped brightly, already grinning. “You look stunning tonight! How are you feeling?”

Ivory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled, the nerves turning into something easier to carry. “I’m feeling…a lot, honestly.” She admitted with a soft laugh. “It’s overwhelming, but exciting. Like — I don’t know — stepping into a dream you didn’t even know you had until it’s right in front of you can be a bit much but it’s still something I appreciate. ”

The interviewer warmly at her. “Wow, that was so beautifully put. And might I say — your dress is everything! Absolutely to die for! The teeth?!” She complemented, causing Ivory to smile as she laughed. “Thank you, thank you.” She said, bowing her head a but at the woman in acknowledgment to her compliment. “Who are you wearing tonight?” The interviewer asked.

“Uh, it’s a Schiaparelli haute couture by Daniel Roseberry.” She responded in a soft one, feeling weird telling that information. This was her first time having to or simply being able to say things like that, and she still feeling the nervous buzz from being on the carpet. “It’s custom, we wanted something that sort of fits the edgy scheme of the film.” She added with a nod. The interviewer nodded with a polite smile before continuing and the rest of their time didn’t last even a few minutes until Ivory thanked her and moved forward to the next stop.

The second interviewer was a tall man in a sharp black suit, holding his mic a little closer to Ivory once she stepped up.

“Ivory, you’re having a huge moment right now. This is sort of your big acting debut, so tell us, what’s been the biggest pinch-me moment you’ve experienced so far?”

Ivory thought for a second, the lights glinting off her grills as she smiled thoughtfully. “Hmm, Honestly…it’s the people.” She said. “Being in rooms with like minded creatives and actors I grew up admiring, Like Delroy Linda and Omar Millar, and realizing they’re just people with dreams just like me. Very kind people. Some others have even become friends.” She hesitated for a heartbeat as her smile widened, her mind flickering to a particular someone. “People I hold dear to my heart now.” She finished, her grills nipping at her lips as she smiled. “So, yeah. It’s the people, definitely.” She nodded.

The man leaned in, intrigued. “You’re smiling, are there some names you wanna drop there?” He asked with a grin.

Ivory laughed, flashing her silver canines. “Not yet.” She teased. “Gotta keep a few things to myself.” She said, and they shared a small laugh before he asked her a few more questions and then she was onto to the next.

She moved on to the last interviewer, who was waiting for her at the far end of the carpet. This woman was about her age, deep brown skin and sharp-eyed. She greeted Ivory warmly. “Miss Ivory.” She said, her voice smooth and practiced. “Congratulations. I have to say — you are truly a vision tonight.”

“Thank you so much.” Ivory said shyly as she poached a hand on her shoulder. “You look amazing as well.” She then gave the woman a small curtsey that made the her chuckle. “Now, I have to ask.” The interviewer continued, tilting her head slightly. “We’ve seen the trailer, we’ve seen the leading man.” She began, causing Ivory to let out a laugh, already knowing where this conversation was going. “And we’ve seen the reviews about how sexy this movie truly gets. So me, and the people, want to know if the rumors are true and your character is involved with a certain main character?” The woman asked, amusement clear on her face. Ivory laughed, a genuine laugh leaving her lips. “Oh wow.” She chuckled, her silver fangs poking at her bottom lip as she grinned. “Uh, I can’t say.” She answered with a shrug. “You’ll honestly have to watch the film to see. I know the trailer shows moments between Michael and Hailee, but there’s a clip of me and him in there, but you all will have to see how it all plays out.” She said.

The interviewer hummed before looking back at the camera behind her. “There it is guys, she’s gonna be getting steamy with Michael B. Jordan.” She said and Ivory’s cheeks warmed at that as she laughed — and before she could figure out how to politely stir the conversation else where, a familiar hand gently touched the small of her back.

She turned — and there he was.

Michael.

Looking heartbreakingly good in a sleek blue suit with black lapels, a grin spreading across his face the second their eyes met, showing his similar silver fanged grills. “Sorry to interrupt.” Michael said, his voice low and warm, but easily picked up by the cameras. He slid his hand from her back to gently take her hand, lifting it to press a kiss just above her knuckles. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” He said to her, looking her in the eye. Ivory grinned up at him, not saying anything but a soft ‘Hi’ that the microphone caught.

The interviewer blinked, delighted — as did the few from the crowd that caught the sight of their main man.

“No interruption at all.” The woman laughed. “In fact, you having perfect timing. We were just talking about you.”

Michael smiled as he turned to the interviewer, never quite letting go of Ivory’s hand. “I just couldn’t let her stand here answering questions about me without at least showing my face.” He said and Ivory let out a soft, slightly breathless laugh, looking up at him in a way that said more than any words could. The interviewer, picking up instantly on the energy between them, smiled knowingly. “We were just speaking on your characters potential connection in the movie and you two seem very comfortable together. The people out there want more of this bond.”

Michael squeezed Ivory’s hand gently, his thumb stroking the back of it like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “She’s the absolute best. My best girl.” He said simply, looking at Ivory, not the cameras. “I’m her biggest fan.” He said, knowing that the words would affect the girl. Which was proved right by the way she ducked her head at his words with a large smile on her face. The crowd nearby let out a soft chorus of laugh, as well as some aww’s, and the flashes from the cameras picked up again when she looked back up at him.

[2scared2cry]

Now what if I told you I wrote my first fic for Halloween…. Because I did!!

Sorry if it’s bad… I just really wanna get my work out so criticism is appreciated!

Anyways here’s a Halloween fic with Doc Ock!

Halloween Angel

~ Fem!reader, suggestive language, creeper hitting on reader >:(, reader has shitty friends, drunk reader..

The endless sea of toxic alcoholic fumes and half naked bodies drowned you as a terrifying realization yanked you by the back of your hair. Oh wait, that was some girl who was dancing. But you did realize, your friends ditched you. There you stood, trying to keep your balance as the beat of the song rumbled the floor like an earthquake. You came with a group of friends, and none of them were to be seen. You reached a point of carelessness as you pushed aside people to reach the exit. Like a light at the end of the very long tunnel. The gateways of heaven inching closer to you the more you fought the half naked bodies clashing against each other.

Like a suction cup releasing a loud pop! You were set free. Now the chilly garbage winds of New York curled around your body. The smell of gas has never been more comforting. You decided it was futile to even try and look for them further. You knew they weren't at the club, and there was no chance in hell that you would wander through mysterious streets you didn't know on halloween night. So you carried on from the direction you came, and tried your hardest to remember your way home.

You weren't drunk drunk, just a bit tipsy. That's all! But you definitely weren't drunk enough to forget all that has happened today. The constant back handed comments like “You know my costume wouldn't look good on you!” or some other bullshit. And how you couldn't forget that they all had matching costumes. And you were left out. You guessed it was the age old tale of, “you weren't added to the group chat sweetie!” Man you needed some new friends. You seethed in frustration as you continued down the sidewalk. Faint music slowly disappeared as your thoughts muffled it further. And thankfully you were too consumed in frustration to not notice the side glances and whistles from across the street.

The graze of this man's shoulder against yours could have made you hurl all the contents in your stomach.

“Watch out!” He snarled. But you continued on, trying your hardest to make it home as quickly as possible. Yet this man just would not stop.

“Hey, trying to ignore me?” You rolled your eyes and clutched your purse as he caught up to you.

“C’mon sweetheart. Be a nice little angel and-” His voice was cut off by a thud. You both looked over to the dim eerie alley way. Like a flaming ball in the night sky a flashing red light appeared in the darkness. Another lit up, and soon 4 scarlet red orbs were gunning the both of you down.

Metal whirring revealed a glistening claw extending from the alley. It inched closer to his face, reaching the tip of his sweating nose. A giant man stepped out from the darkness, like a demon rising out of the ashes. The man's presence alone scared off the other. He ran off to the other side of the street, squealing like a pig as he scurried along. You leaned back to look at your savior in all of his glory. His head nodded down to you, his ruffled mane curled a bit over his dark frames. His aura was familiar, like it gave you a heightened sense. But you just couldn't find the answer. And in a burst of confidence you blurted out,

“Nice costume.”

A look of confusion washed over Doc's face. He saw it all go down and immediately began gambling options on how to handle him. Too bad he ran before he could act. And although the idea of you not running or screaming was surprising enough, but now you made it clear that you didn't know it was him. But he also knew that by the way you were walking that you were intoxicated. He contemplated for a moment. Would him making it apparent of his identity skew her view on him? Should he just say something, or go along with it? He decided the latter was the best option. He didn't need any more attention drawn to him tonight.

“Thank you sweetheart. Yours is exceptional.” He responded, scanning your body up and down. Your face heated up at the compliment. And that decadent pet name could have made you swoon.

“Thank you. And what are those?” You asked, pointing at the actuator that still held its place in the air.

“They’re uh, puppets. If you will..” The bead of sweat rolled over his eyebrow as he cringed at how blatant his lying was. And what was more astonishing was how you believed every word he said. Swallowing the sugary spoonfuls of lies he fed you so graciously. You hummed and smiled at him.

“Super cool! Mine isn’t as good.” You said looking down at the pearly white heels you wore. You sported a flowy white dress, wings strapped to your back, and a halo headband to emulate an angel. And despite the fact that not only was it a simple costume, there should be at least 20 other women in a 5 mile radius with the exact same thing on. Hell, you even ran into one at the club. But nevertheless you could tell he was still looking you over, even if he had those dark menacing shades on.

“I'm so sorry! I haven't thanked you for, uh, saving me.” He only nodded in response. You both stood there, awkwardly taking in the silence of the street.

“Would you like to walk with me?” You asked. Now normally you would have thanked the scary man and quickly run home, but you weren't thinking straight and if you were being 100% honest with yourself, this man was terrifyingly attractive. Well at least the parts you could make out since it was dark out. And he just did a nice service for you so, how bad could he be?

How funny is it when your keys don't work? When you just can't find the correct one that fits into the slot. It is insanely funny, because you are laughing harder and harder as you stumble with your gigantic collection of keys and keychains. Even he’s laughing at how ridiculous you’re being. Man that alcohol was getting to you. Finally one goes into the lock and you open your door with a wide swing. You lead him into your house without a lick of hesitancy. And as nonchalant as you were about it, he was radiating with anxiety. The fact that you didn't know you were bringing a well known criminal into your house was scary, even for him.

“Welcome home!” You exclaimed, tossing your purse onto the kitchen counter.

“Nice place.” He said, sitting down on the couch. You replied with a sweet “thank you!” and looked at him. You two had a nice conversation as you walked together, but over time it became so freeing that you had no issue taking him inside. Not that you two would do anything!..

“I'm curious. Do you normally bring strangers home?” He asked with a sly smirk. One that made you laugh a bit nervously.

“I did bring you in here didn't I..”

“Yes, you did.” Silence hit the both of you again as now you were swimming in waves of consciousness and ignorance to it all.

“Well you seemed nice. If you were going to hurt me you would've done so sooner.” You said in response. He accepted your answer and crossed his legs, leaning back into the soft cushion with a huff.

“Do you want something to eat?” You asked, feeling a bit hungry. He nodded and watched as you disappeared into the kitchen. Your wired halo bouncing as you scurried along. He made sure to keep the actuators relaxed and low to the floor so as to not be suspicious. But their constant nagging and questions almost made him implode. He studied your living room, looking at all the cheap halloween decor you had. He found it humorous that you decorated a small NY apartment for seemingly no one but yourself. Or at least that's what he assumed since you hadn’t mentioned any roommate, and you certainly weren't having a party or you wouldn't have been at that club. He heard a slam come from the kitchen and the sound of a microwave.

“I'm making popcorn, is that ok?” You asked, sitting down beside him on the couch.

“That's alright with me.” He replied plainly. His husky voice seemed to linger in the air like a spirit haunting you. Suddenly your mind became very cluttered. More cluttered than usual. The room felt a bit humid, you could even feel the ends of your hair frizzing up. Playing with the cheap press ons you had and relishing in the sound of the cry glue cracking just to keep you preoccupied. And his gaze was undeniably dense. His presence alone took up the room, now you even thought you could smell him. Sizzling butter, how strange?

“Something wrong sweetheart?” He broke you out of your trance.

“No! It’s quiet in here isn't it? I should play something on the tv.” You swiftly grasped at the remote and switched on the tv to some mindless channel.

“Some friends you have, huh.” You turned to him holding a picture frame that laid against the small coffee table you had beside the sofa.

“I mean they’re good. Sometimes.” You admitted. You had already explained to him the events that night and he was pleasantly understanding.

“Why do you hang around them? Surely you deserve better.” He placed the picture down and gave it a disgusted look. Almost like the picture frame itself was foul and tainted.

“Well they showed me the ropes around NYC when I first moved here. I couldn't just ditch them after that. Besides, you can be my friend now.” I smiled at him. He cocked his head in amusement and gave a small, almost unnoticeable, nod.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

You jumped as the alarm to the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished. You couldn't form a coherent reply so you stood and ran to get the food. Your face felt as heated as the piping hot bag you plucked from the microwave. Opening it up and feeling the smoking heat blow onto you and inhaling that buttery popcorn was refreshing. You pour it into a bowl and return back to the couch.

“Here! Would you want to watch a movie?” You asked switching the channels to find the station that played classic halloween movies. He reached in the bowl and snagged a couple kernels. You noticed his sleeve being a bit tattered. You actually noticed a couple things about his costume. How insanely real it was, his clothes being dirtied from nature and not forced makeup. His costume resembled more casual clothes. Like items picked from the back of a closet. And his shining metallic puppets, the warmth of the sunset tinted lamp reflected off of them. Giving them a halo glow. You almost noticed how your costume was an actual costume, and his wasn't.

“Staring an awful lot isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He said.

“Uhm. May I ask, who are you supposed to be dressed as?” He sat in silence, his boot tapping on the floor bouncing his leg continued, and he stared straight ahead, not sparing you a passing glance.

“Think a comic book character.”

“Ohhh! That makes sense!” You exclaimed. No wonder you were so confused! Silly you being anxious and worrying, he's just a huge nerd! You relaxed back into the couch, enjoying the slasher film on screen. You reminisced for a second on your childhood. How you used to like comics but they were long gone and replaced by Japanese manga and romance books. You almost wondered what happened to those comics of yours.

“And you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Oh cmon, you know what I am.” Undeniably you were an angel, you felt a bit confused as to why he had asked. But you brushed it off as just his nature. How he always seemed to make a sly comment at you or a joke you had no rebuttal to.

Your breath hitched as his knee bumped against yours. You never even noticed how he slowly inched his way closer to you on the couch. And now that you noticed the proximity between you, you felt nervous again.

“Such a sweet thing, you. An angel represents how kind and naive you are.” His gloved hand ran through strands of your hair and twirled it around his finger. You could feel the goosebumps litter through your body as you tried to respond to him. He just had this power to shut you down and turn your brain to mush. Mush that he could toy with like putty.

“I.. Your costume is cool too.” God you were awkward. And how you hated when he laughed at that. You couldn't tell if it was out of pity, or mocking. Either way you wanted to disappear into dust and fall between the crevices of the couch. The very same plush couch that indented as he leaned in closer to you. His fingers slid along your back, tickling your baby hairs that rested on your neck, and placed his hand on your shoulder. Giving it a soft squeeze that paralyzed your entire being.

“You shouldn't drink so much alone, little angel. And you most certainly shouldn't bring men home. Men you do not know.” His words were stern, like bricks pummeling down onto you. And in a common situation you would already know this. But your now slightly drunken state just has you giggle.

“Im sorry sir. I should have asked for your name.” You said. At the word sir he stiffened and dropped the smirk.

“You wanna play games?” You laughed at that. Turning your head to hide away your flushed face. He hummed and reclined into the seat.

Admiring him was an understatement. It was more like ogling but, you weren't a slime. It’s just that his appearance made you drool. Sure his costume was a bit questionable, his overall ambiance was breathtakingly ravishing. And you were most certain that the alcohol was carrying you tonight because without it you'd be a fumbling mess. After placing the bowl down you slightly leaned closer to him now, bringing your finger to his bare chest. He jolted at the contact, now it felt as if you were in control. The lion tamer trying to get a trick out of its pet.

“So, what do you do for work?” You asked, slowly raking your finger up his plush stomach. He even had a metal corset on him, fashionable!

He grunted, “A scientist.”

“Ooo, in what?” You cooed. Now placing your palm on his sizzling skin.

“Nuclear physics.” His voice wavered, your hand coursing him to give in more than he already has. He knew he should've left when you suggested you walk together. He knew he should’ve rejected the idea of him going into your home. But you were too addicting, and it was all becoming too much for him.

You peered up at him, the alcohol and butter radiating off of you. His hand drew up to your chin, holding it in place ever so gently. The room felt like gravity ceased to exist and that time held no value. His face was inches from yours, the tips of your noses faintly pressed together.

“I think it's time you go to bed, little angel.” The room felt heavy once more and every single thing came crashing down.

“What?” He let go of your chin and stood up, almost knocking you back into the couch.

“I have to head home.” He said already heading towards the door.

“No! Wait!” You snagged his arm, tugging at the thick leather sleeve.

“When will I see you again?” Your vision was almost fuzzy, contorting his silhouette into that of a dark figure lurking in places it doesn't belong in.

“Check the channels.” He responded and opened the door. You looked back at the tv, a scene of a girl's intestines splatting onto the camera played.

“But..” The click of the door signaled his departure. Now your living room was full of the perfume that clung onto your dress. And he disappeared so quickly, like he was sure of himself. And little did you know that he was fighting every thought that told him to go back to you-To his angel.

[snowbriar]

Battle Nexus Analysis GO

So this episode starts out with April saying the turtles need to learn more about their hometown, right after Raph unsuccessfully names a bunch of famous landmarks. They have been entered in a scavenger hunt!

I feel like this WAS more important to the story in the original draft but I'm not sure how. Perhaps it relates to where the turtles are fighting in the battle nexus? Interesting anyway. It isn't really brought up after this point.

Anyways then the sky turns red and the moon eclipses black. I'm curious if this was just for visual effect, if it was an actual eclipse, or if it was strictly the magic orb Big Mama uses at work. Seems like it's not natural, but that thought made me wonder maybe she had to wait for a certain day that the orb would work?

Something interesting too is that I had seen people say that the shadow that kidnaps everyone was actually Frida's powers at work (big mama's assistant). But actually I think it might be that magic orb's power. I really like the idea of Frida having shadow powers but it seems like the shadow that kidnaps the people of new york is identical to the one that kidnaps meat sweats, hypno, cassandra, etc.

oh yeah and the orb kind of looks like it's got the hands surrounding it. It seems to match the shredder ring in color scheme too so I wonder if she got those and the shredder collar from the same place? Which would be from Draxum, since he gave her the orb as payment when he used her train to transport the shredder armor.

Draxum realizes this while he's on the boat in a quick flashback, he remembers that he gave the orb to Big Mama. I wonder how everyone would react if they knew it was kinda his fault too?

So the turtles get separated and are going to fight off against each of the villains we got to see get kidnapped. Well, some of them anyway. Crab guy and Ghostbear we never saw, (but Ghostbear WAS supposed to get kidnapped in wedding smashers) and Casey being an odd exclusion from the list. One theory I had was that she was going to be paired up with April or Splinter, otherwise she could have gotten paired up with Leo instead of crab guy (who would have been the only one to not be seen getting kidnapped, but maybe that was part of the joke.)

Not much to be analyzed for a while, it's just the battle and everything. but poor leo looks so concerned when Raph is pronounced destroyed.

also this

So yeah they confront big mama and the villains run away. And she's going to keep the people of new york anyway and the turtles insist raph will show up to save them. Now I'm just wondering what would happen if he DIDN'T :(

So shadow fiend shows up like normal and everyone is fighting together now yay

But here's where things deviate from what the original idea was and what we have now as a final product. This episode was supposed to end with big mama's hotel collapsing into the hidden city along with her and the Shredder. There is no 'Casey takes control of the shredder' moment. We also don't necessarily find out that Shadow Fiend IS the shredder in this episode either. Because apparently (as seen in a few storyboards for shred dead redemption) Big Mama is STILL hosting her battle nexus and Shadow Fiend is signing autographs, but Casey suspects that he is actually the Shredder (which is why she drags Foot Luitenant and Brute along with her.) So it's likely THIS scene still happens

So I would imagine things progress relatively similar, except that the battle ends early. Big Mama wouldn't have lost her ring, Casey wouldn't have grabbed it, and I imagine the hotel would have collapsed after the 'Hot Soup Hibernator'

So I suppose a question would be does Draxum unlock the magic ball or...? I think he would. Because an episode that was supposed to happen right after this starred Dale from April's school. So yeah I guess. If Casey had been fighting in the Battle Nexus I wonder if that would have changed how she participated in the final battle too.

I'm going to save the last part of my analysis for a separate post, because I feel like everything after this point would pertain to future episodes (but not this one specifically).

Anyways, from just a general analysis perpsective this episode is SO good and really really REALLY well animated, some of the scenes rival the movie I swear. Like when Draxum is running away from the Shredder and there's a freaking TANKER flying behind him and a school bus (courtesy of mikey of course) and it's just so cool.

This is my favorite moment tho cause I love the quiet realization and panic on their faces as the audience goes "Huh... that looks like Big Mama's hotel... Wait, I'm IN bIg mama's hotel... Ohhhhh sh-"

So yeah, hope this is helpful to some folks :)

[ladybirdswritings]

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary - You have landed yourself on Miguel’s bad side… or have you? Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

five

Oh, you’re stupid. You’re so, so horribly stupid. Be it for the fact that you talked back to your boss, didn’t follow orders, the fact that you’ve been a liability twice now, oh no no- maybe the fact that you knowingly allowed yourself to get fired though you’re in debt and really— you willingly walked out. Maybe it’s all of that.

Or perhaps you wish it was all of that.

You tense as your finger hovers over the small triangle, afraid to press play on the glowing screen in your lap. It taunts you like the apple of Eden, dripping with droplets of temptation that render you curious. How much longer will you wait?

You press play without second thought, burying your face to hide away in your hands, only allowing your eyes to peek on behind your fingers.

“Good Evening John yes, breaking news this evening coming out of Nueva York. Infamous O’Hara Enterprises’ CEO Miguel O’Hara’s home was broken into late last night. Police say this occurred when Mr’ O’Hara was out on business, but he soon returned home to find his housemaid and six-year-old little girl shot dead in his home.”

The air thins.

Your body chills like it’s been cased in the waters of the arctic, bile rising at your throat as the blonde newscaster continues. A part of you, a very strong part is just begging you to toss your phone across the room and forget this ever happened, you can’t. You’re struck frozen when you see his face on screen.

Christ.

He looks disheveled, lost, broken. So different from the man who belittled and questioned you in his leather throne.

“Mr. O’Hara!! Sir!! Do you have any idea who’s responsible!?”

“Sir! Please just a word!!”

“Mr. O’Hara!! Mr O’Hara!!”

“Was it you!? Did you have your daughter killed!?!”

You gasp, eyes pooling with shameful tears and lip quivering as you watch on screen. The once composed man, towering over everyone in sight who crowds him, turns in fury.

That look.

You know that horrible look because he gave it to you.

He didn’t grab you, though. Maybe he should have…

Mr. O’Hara… he looks like a man destroyed. You understand now that gaze beyond his anger when you mentioned his daughter. His daughter you very much thought was alive and well. Stupid you for not finding more time to fall down the rabbit hole.

You watch on screen as he grabs the newscaster by his collar and tugs him up off his feet like he weighs only but a feather. Panic ensues around him, his lawyer who wears red, round glasses and holds a metal cane is begging him to place the dangling idiot down. His jaw is tense, spitting inaudible words at him through clenched teeth. He tosses him down to the rough concrete eventually though, swiftly passing by the shocked crowd without another word once he does.

“Yes John as you can see in that short video, O’Hara’s emotions were high this evening and he couldn’t keep control of his temper…”

They flash one final picture at the end. It’s him. He looks lively, human… happy. His little girl looks so small on his shoulders, grinning from cheek to cheek like she’s the luckiest thing in the world.

You have a strong feeling she was.

Two droplets of shame fall upon the luminous picture, your eyes staring into the dark brown orbs of a dead girl.

“M’ so sorry I didn’t know…” you whisper to her, running your thumb over the glow of her cheek.

How dare you mention her? Over a stupid, hideous Christmas tree that’s probably been torn to the ground by now. Over silly pink ribbons.

You don’t know how long you sit like that, head hung in shame with an ache biting at your neck. It seems like you just have a talent for ruining the lives of people who take a chance on you… it saddens you.

Your mind flashes to Katerina, the anger in her eyes when she found out. The twisted wire hanger in her hand…

“You deserve this! You stupid, ungrateful girl!”

Your back aches.

Though… by some higher grace, your darkest memories and moments are interrupted once the doorbell rings. It startles you. Not until it rings twice more. Oh, you immediately know who it is.

With a sniffle and harsh wipe at your flushed face with frayed cotton, you throw a sweater upon your shoulders and rush to the door, unlocking it with much relief.

You needed a distraction.

“Uhh te tr- tra? Tra hee? un… un empanada!”

Miles stands with a warm foam plate in hand and a big smile plastered upon his face. He’s proud of his attempt at Spanish. Christ, you’re grateful now more than ever that your neighbor is a kind and chatty teenager with a Hispanic mother. The plate smells delicious.

You smile warmly at him, even through your sadness, thanking him softly as you grab the plate and make your way to your countertop. He follows promptly, taking a seat on the stool and squinting once he gets a clearer look at your face.

“Have you been crying?” He asks, curiosity laced like ribbon in his voice.

“…no.” You whisper, opening the microwave to warm up the delectable treat in your hand. Your stomach grumbles impatiently but through your peripheral, Miles shoots his hand out in panic.

“Waitdontmicrowavethat!!”

You halt, knowing immediately why not. To be sure, you flip open the foam plate and are very much unsurprised to see a hundred-dollar bill taped to the top, adorned with a cursive note that reads: “for groceries.”

Rio…

You shake your head, pulling the emerald bill out from the place where it is snugly taped before you attempt to hand it to Miles.

“Nope!” He dodges your hand swiftly. You’ve done this with him before. However, you just can’t today.

With a defeated suck of your pretty teeth, you shake your head.

“Miles I can’t accept this, I’m fine!”

His hands are raised in protest, “well that’s too bad because mom said if I come back with that hundred-dollar bill, she’s gonna beat me with her chancla…”

Christ… you’d laugh if a certain CEO and his beautiful, deceased daughter wasn’t looming— poisoning the back of your mind.

“I— alright… thank you.” You breathe. You just don’t have it in you to protest today, and you are beyond grateful. Besides, you’ll most definitely be needing this soon, anyways.

Your response must confuse him because Miles furrows his brows, crossing his arms over his chest in overwhelming suspicion.

“No more fighting? Alright, what’s going on? I thought you were happy cause you got that new fancy job.”

You frown, turning your back and gathering your thoughts as you microwave the first thing you’ve eaten since sunrise. You stay dead silent as it heats, only allowing yourself to respond once you’ve stuffed your mouth full of a bite of warm, soft dough, meat and cheese. You nearly moan. God, Rio can cook. It’s times like this where you truly wish you had a mother like her, growing up.

Miles is waiting, you remember.

“I got fired.” No bullshitting, no avoiding. Straight to it no matter how big the pit in your stomach is. No way to sugarcoat that with pink ribbons and pearls.

His chocolate orbs go wide, “What!? It’s your first week!”

The realization makes you groan, soothing your pity with another big bite of warm comfort to drown away the reality you’re forced with, now. All by your own hand… or mouth, rather. How history repeats itself.

“Pissed the boss off…” you mumble before swallowing down the food. Another bite, and another. Miles waits anxiously for more context, and although you’re aching to forget all traces of your idiocy… you give it to him.

“I mentioned his daughter who is very much-”

“Gone…” he interjects, “Yeah, everybody knows that. It was some guys that had a vendetta against him or something. At least, that’s what kids on the block used to say back when we were in Nueva York...”

God, does everyone know but you?

You groan, stuffing your mouth full of one last bite before burying your aching head in your hands. You slowly, far too softly and repeatedly bang it against your palms.

Miles places a comforting hand on your shoulder,

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t know! Besides, working for big shots like him is a waste of time anyways. You’ll get so rich you’ll leave this place and then who will my mom have to send half of her tip money to?”

You know he’s trying to cheer you up, but it only makes you groan again. You feel pathetic. Completely and utterly. Living off of credit cards now, credit cards and groceries from Rio. You never imagined your life to amount to this… At least you’ll have a day’s worth of pay. It’s certainly not small.

But god, it baffles you sometimes… how one stupid choice led you right here. One choice took everything from you. One choice, but all your fault.

The sound of “Sunflower” emits from Miles’ cell, and you glance at the screen to see a picture of a grinning blonde with a bob and a piercing.

Gwen.

The new neighborhood girl who skates out front sometimes, Miles has clearly taken a liking to her. You grin, and he gives you a look that stops you before you can poke any fun.

He immediately reaches to mute it, but you shake your head.

“Go. I’m fine, promise.” Oh, you’re very much lying but, you don’t let him know that. It’s clear there is uncertainty laced in his eyes as he nods and gives you a hug, leaving the bill on the counter before making his way outside.

You shut the door with a huff, resting your forehead against the cool kiss of December’s snowfall.

It feels like pins and needles have nestled all over your skin. Your anxiety plagues at your fingertips and heart and you truly wish you could just sink into your sheets and never rise again.

Every position available. You applied to every position available and were a lucky, lucky girl to land one at the highest paying company that sits in a castle above the clouds. But you were lucky then, too. Dancing. Just look how you strangled that…

You know that if you don’t move from the door, you’ll be glued to it… so you do.

Off to grab your phone to do the dreaded and delayed.

Call home.

Your finger shakes as you pick the devil’s box up from the countertop, throat constricting like a serpent has coiled around it. That would be a far better fate, you’re sure. Eyes swell with tears that you slap away with cold hands.

You did this to yourself.

Your body begs you to toss the phone, begs you not to call and to just sink into those cool sheets but… you have no choice.

You can’t bury yourself in more debt, you can’t depend on Rio, you can’t depend on anyone but you. God knows that your denial of the day looming was just stupidity. Your mother told you you’d come crawling back. Today must be that horrible day that sat upon the horizon. Taunting you.

Perhaps you thought too soon.

Because maybe, just maybe your guardian angel is giving you a break, today.

A call interrupts you. A call from Cindy Moon.

Your shaky hands accidentally prompt you to pick up, body heating in embarrassment. She’s definitely called to confirm the news, or to shame you for your disgusting words. That must be it…

With a breath of preparation, you place the phone against your dampened cheek,

“Uh- hello?” You sound mousy, pathetic.

“Oh, hey! I was just calling to see if you got the ornaments yet? No pressure or anything but I’m just here at a gift shop downtown and I found some really cute ones that might go with the bow theme.”

Oh… lovely. She doesn’t know.

You wince, pinching your skin hard enough so that your tears subside. A trick taught to you by Katerina. Well, less of a trick and more of a punishment.

“Cindy… I don’t think I’m gonna be working with you all anymore.” You force.

She pauses and god, your fluttering heart stops as you await any response. Yet you only hear the tapping of quick fingers against a screen on the other end. Time passes deathly slow as you wait for something, anything. You’d hang up, but this gifted agony is far better than the agony of calling home.

“Have you checked the schedule? I showed you how, right? You’re booked for all of next week. If you weren’t working with us, Mr’ O’Hara would’ve definitely voided your hours… actually, looks like he extended them!”

What?

No, no that can’t be right...

“There must be a mistake…”

She interrupts, “Nope! Trust me, you’d know if Mr. O’Hara was doneso with you. One time, a girl stole from him, and he screamed at her so loud that she had permanent ringing in her ears for the rest of her life.”

You’re silent. Confused, baffled, amazed? You don’t know. You don’t find the right words to respond with, so Cindy just continues,

“Did Mr. O’Hara say something? Look, he’s not a soft guy. He’s almost fired me at least a dozen times now. You’ll get used to it. Just keep your head high and do your job without complaints and you’ll last here. Promise.”

She’s so lively when she’s not in the office, so much more human. Less nervous. It all makes your head spin, strikes you silent.

You have fallen at an utter loss for words, so you simply offer a, “Thanks, Cindy. I will see you Monday.” Before hanging up the phone and facing it down, away from your sight.

God…

You are left with as many questions as there are ribbons on that stupid tree. Left with confusion, fear even. You are simply completely and utterly baffled.

Well, unless it’s a grave mistake on his part…

… it seems like you’re stuck with him after all.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @laysmt @migueloharastruelove | chap 5 song 🎧:

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of been thinking about are all the various dynamics that Big Mama seems to have with the Hamato Clan.

Leo: Just the spider I was coming to gloat to.

Big Mama: I am not one to be outmanoeuvred my turtle boo. Well done. 

With Leo it almost seems as though Big Mama has possibly been set up as a foil for Leo, with Leo being the member of the Hamato Clan that was able to outmanoeuvre Big Mama in the episode 'Many Unhappy Returns' & was able to see through Big Mama's deceit in the episode 'Bug Busters'.

Something that I have seen a few people talk about are the possible parallels between Big Mama & Leo as they are both able to twist situations into something in their own favour, however they also contrast each other as Big Mama seems to be primarily motivated for her own gain while Leo is motivated by trying to keep his family safe.

Splinter: From you, as we tangoed the night away.

With Splinter, Big Mama has a complicated history as exes, with Big Mama having betrayed Splinter's trust & forced him to fight in the Battle Nexus however their relationship also seems slightly more complicated in the fact that they possibly seem to still have some kind of feelings for one another as in the episode 'The Ancient Art of Ninja Hide and Seek' it's shown that Big Mama kept a photo of them & Splinter went to retrieve the photo & towards the end of the episode 'Battle Nexus New York' Splinter attempted to save Big Mama from the Shredder & in the final episode of Rise, Big Mama did seem to help the Turtles find where the Shredder had taken Splinter & Draxum.

Big Mama: We both know my train is the only way to secretly move your cargo to the shrine.

Draxum: And I’m paying a heavy price for not asking questions

With Draxum, Big Mama has been portrayed as both a sort of rivals Draxum having originally taken Lou Jitsu from her in the episode 'Goyle, Goyles, Goyles' & Big Mama has tried to use Draxum's oozesquitoes for her Battle Nexus in the episode 'Bug Busters', however they are also kind of portrayed as bussiness partners as well as in the episode 'Insane in the Mama Train' Draxum was also the one who gave Big Mama the orb she needed for her Battle Nexus New York plan & Big Mama was the one who gave Draxum the opportunity to transport the Dark Armour creating the impression that Big Mama & Draxum will work together if it benefits them but will double cross each other if there is more to gain.

Something I kind of wonder about however is what their dynamic would be like after Draxum's redemption.

Donnie: I have only one question. How dare you?

With Donnie their dynamic seems to be Donnie showing a dislike towards Big Mama whenever they interact with each other whether due to Donnie still holding a grudge over Big Mama trying to use him & betraying his trust in the episode 'Bug Busters' or that Donnie is simply just generally upset at everything Big Mama has done to his family but something that I think is kind of interesting is that Donnie might possibly be the Turtle that almost kind of seems to show his dislike towards Big Mama the most out of the Hamato Clan.

Big Mama: You did your part so I will do mine

Something I also kind of think about is Big Mama's Assistant being one of the missing Turtle siblings meaning Big Mama kind of technically raised a member of the Hamato Clan which kind of makes me wonder how it would affect Big Mama's other dynamics with the rest of the Hamato Clan if they knew who Big Mama's Assistant was.

Raph: Heh.. uh… H-Hi..Big Mama.

Big Mama: Hello turtley boo

With Raph when Big Mama interacts with him in the episode 'Raph's Ride Along', Big Mama seems to act amused towards Raph while Raph seems to act nervous around her, this could possibly be due to what was going on during the episode however this could also be a glimpse into their dynamic of Raph possibly being intimidated by Big Mama due to knowing that she is dangerous & Big Mama simply being amused by Raph as she doesn't seem to view him as a threat to her.

Something that I kind of wonder about is what Big Mama's dynamic could have possibly been like with Mikey & April if we could have seen them interact properly with each other.

[thewhitewitch-bitch]

In Astris Supra (Chapter 8: Prima Nocte Videt Notus Lateri Tuo)

Agatha Harkness x F!OC

Read it on AO3

CW: Demons, demonic possession, blood, slight gore

New York City

December, 1724

"I appreciate your discretion in all this, Doctor." I said as our footsteps echoed off the cold stone steps, "Given that you reached out to me in particular, I'm sure you're aware of the potential circumstances?" 

"Indeed," he replied, producing a wrought iron key from the pocket of his black wool coat, "You're not the first witch I've encountered in my time, but thankfully you're the first one who hasn't tried to kill me. Not to mention that I find your published works on the effects of various poisons on the body's systems to be quite an interesting read. I figured you would be willing to look into this."

The memory of the original proposition played over in my mind, occupying my thoughts as we continued down the frost laden, dark tunnels beneath Fraunces Tavern.

The letter was brought to me surprisingly by Hatch some two weeks prior, clutched tightly within his beak. According to the note, Dr. Christopher Connors, a coroner in New York City, had been asked to conduct an inquest into the manner of death of two young girls, ages fifteen and seventeen, respectfully. The older gentleman was at a loss, the nature of their deaths seemed... unnatural. Having read my findings in the British Medical Journal under the pseudonym Dr. Anthony Druid, and being an associate of Rupert Kingsley's, Connors sought me out and offered to pay a generous sum for my assistance in the case. 

"I don't trust it." Agatha had said after looking over the letter for herself, "Never trust a man."

"Says the woman who's spent the last twenty years rampaging through Salem after killing her coven." I mumbled, hoping she wouldn't hear me. There had been something else included with the letter that I had not shown her. Connors had provided a series of detailed charcoal sketches of both victims. Just a passing glance of them told me that I had no choice but to assist. 

"You can't possibly be considering it!" Agatha exclaimed. I glanced over at her, folding over the sketches and tucking them into the pocket of my wool overcoat that hung by the door of Agatha's cabin. While I had not been a permanent resident there, I did establish myself there as a regular visitor, maintaining my lodgings in Boston to further my studies in private.

"I'll be back by the new year at the latest." I said, loud and clear as I waved a hand, summoning clothes and food into the saddle bags beside my coat, "Trust me, darling; I need to look into this." 

Her hand reached out to grab my wrist, but I was too quick for her. I ducked out of her grasp and out the door before she could protest any further.

I opened my palm to form an orb of light, illuminating the cold tunnel in a pale, white glow. Connors was a bulky man, I realized as I followed behind him. His thick frame might have been intimidating to others who were not equipped to fight. But his gentle green eyes and his kind face gave no evidence of foul intentions, despite his rather morbid occupation. Agatha was right to assume that most men couldn't be trusted, but looking through the eyes of a Lunar witch, the lenses were different. It was easy for me to read the intentions of a person by simply studying their face. He was no threat to me, or to anyone for that matter. Looking past him, we were fast approaching a large wooden door with a heavy padlock. The bodies had to be in there, kept out of sight from mortals who were incapable of understanding what they saw. Connors' heavy footsteps came to a halt in front of the door, the key in his hand shaking as he did against the cold. He glanced back at me with a cautious glance. 

"Are you sure you want to see this, Miss Stuart?" he asked me softly, his breath wafting past his mustachioed lips like wisps of smoke.

I nodded though my heart was slamming against my ribcage, "I have to be sure. If this is what I think it may be, our very existence may be at risk." 

Connors nodded and put the key into the lock. It clicked loudly, the sound echoing menacingly off the walls followed quickly by the creaking of the door as it opened. The smell hit us hard. The sickening decay of flesh despite the numbing cold was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs. I reached into the pocket of my coat and pulled out a small jar of aromatics to hold to my nose. Connors held a handkerchief over his nose as he stepped inside, his complexion turning pale green as we approached a pair of sheet-covered lumps on a wide oak table. The room was even darker than the hall, if that was even possible, but with a quick flick of my wrist the light floating above my hand moved about the room, lighting candle stubs and lanterns before wafting up over the table to fully illuminate the room. 

"Tell me about them." I said, my eyes glued to the pair of covered corpses as I approached them. Connors tucked himself into a corner of the room where he wouldn't have to look at them again. Once had been more than enough for him it seemed. 

"Edith O'Brien, age fifteen, and Mildred Adams, age seventeen," he explained, his tone flat as if he were reading straight from his notes, "orphans staying under the care of a Miss Rebecca Stanworth. Both girls were supposedly on their way to do the day’s washing when they suddenly became afflicted with some sort of neurological condition. They began to have fits, collapsed to the ground, and died within minutes."

"Who informed you of this, Doctor?"

"Miss Stanworth did. She saw the whole thing from the kitchen window. The girls barely made it past the garden gate before they fell."

Keeping the jar of herbs under my nose, I stepped over to the smaller of the two bodies and drew back the sheet. Just as the sketches had shown, Edith’s body had been left in horrid condition. 

She was thin, though most girls her age could stand to have a bit more meat on their bones, but from simple observation it was plain to see that the girl was suffering from malnutrition. Her cheek bones were hollowed in, her eyes sunken into the sockets, her ribs protruding, her golden hair brittle as dried straw. Even after two weeks of decomposition, the body had stayed in decent condition, no doubt due to the cold. But what was most alarming about her was her skin. Though pale and faintly greyed due to her current condition, situated brightly over her chest was a mark. It was viciously large, spreading across her chest, down her left arm and up the side of her neck, sourced directly from her heart. Colored like a fresh bruise, in various shades of mottled purples, reds, and blues, it had spread like poison in her veins, like a parasite that had suffocated her slowly then all at once. 

Taking a quick glance at the Adams girl, the condition was exactly the same, down to the pattern of the mark on her body. I sighed heavily and stepped away from the table, covering the girls back up as I did.

"Is it what you feared, Miss Stuart?" Connors asked me. I glanced back at him with worry in my eyes. 

"What do you know about demons, Dr. Connors?"

He shrugged, "Outside of what is written in the Lord's book, not very much." 

"Then allow me to enlighten you." I offered, propping myself against a wall across from him. "Demons as you know them are servants of a Dark Lord. They are called 'fallen angels', 'hellspawn', 'children of Satan'. But demons have existed far longer than your God. They are quite nearly as old as the earth itself, and they are harbingers of chaos and cruelty. Demons as you know them have been portrayed as slaves to a darker power, but this is simply not true. They work as singular entities within a greater sphere of evil, creating doom and chaos as they see fit under the watchful eye of the High Lords of Hell. But something isn't right here."

I pointed to the girls on the table, "These girls were possessed by the same demon at the same time. For a demon to be able to split its soul into two pieces... it's just never been recorded before. No witch or sorcerer has ever seen this before. Did Miss Stanworth mention any odd behavior? Foaming of the mouth, speaking in Demonic Script?" 

Connors shook his head, "Nothing like that at all. Perhaps if this demon has managed to split himself in two, his power is not at its full strength?" 

"Perhaps..." my voice trailed off as I tried to run through every possible scenario I could think of. Connors watched me diligently as I pondered, eventually clearing his throat to draw my attention back to me after he thought of something.

"Miss Stuart, if these girls are deceased, then does that mean that this demon is roaming free once again? Are more people in danger?" 

"Yes, Doctor. I'm afraid so. I don't believe this is a lower demon running amuck amongst the people of the city. Only a demon with a great amount of power would be able to do something like this. I fear that a Lord of Hell has come to unleash terror upon the Colonies." I muttered, though the sound bounced off the walls so easily I knew he could hear me loud and clear. He made a gesture over his chest, the sign of the cross, if I remembered correctly. 

"W-Well, how do we stop it? Do we need to exorcise it? I can fetch a reverend-"

I held up a frozen free hand to stop his rambling. The last thing we needed was a reverend to be involved. The poor bastard would only get himself killed trying to banish the thing without any magical authority. 

"That won't necessary, Dr. Connors." I drawled, straightening up off the wall. "Demons, higher demons especially, have a particular fondness for witches of my variety. I'll summon it outside the city and banish it properly. No need for anyone else to get hurt." 

Connors tilted his head curiously, dropping his handkerchief back into the pocket of his coat, "You're a curious woman, Miss Stuart. I do hope you're successful in your endeavor." 

"So do I."

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

I had every intention of dispelling a demon that night. Standing atop a snow-covered hill north of the city, summoned tomes in hand, surrounded by candles, I was fully prepared to begin the summoning ritual when I was interrupted by the sound of furiously flapping wings. Glancing up into the cloud covered night sky, outlined against the barely shining first quarter, was a raven, making a dive toward me. 

"My lady!" Hatch cawed exasperatedly as he set himself down in front of me. He shuddered against the cold of the night and looked up at me with urgency. "I'm so very sorry to interrupt, I know you told me not to but-"

"What, Hatch? What is the matter?" I asked him calmly. 

The raven shuffled his little feet in the snow, as if he were afraid to tell me. Then, he looked up and spoke. 

"You recall the encounter you had with one Lady Death prior to my transformation, yes?" 

Of course, I had told him the truth. No secrets were meant to be kept between a familiar and its master. I nodded, urging him to continue quickly. 

"When she said she would allow you to save me as a favor to a 'her', you assumed it was your mother, correct?" 

"Yes, I could not think of anyone else who-"

"It was Miss Harkness, my lady." Hatch interrupted. My brow furrowed. 

"What?"

"They were... and I believe still are... intimate with each other. I figured you would want to know the truth, rather than be deceived any further." 

I should have felt angry. I should have felt enraged. I should have wanted to kill her. But all I felt was the gravity of my chest caving in again. She used me. And I was completely blind to it. Even with my guard still up, I felt as though I had the wind stripped from my lungs, the warmth pulled from my body. I was alone again. I fell to my knees. The candles around me shuttered against the rush of air, but they did not extinguish. No tears sprang forward, no cry escaped my lips... I just... felt... numb.

I had had every intention of dismissing a demon that night. But now that intention was gone, replaced by a sensation of emptiness that I thought had been cast aside long ago. I was exposed, vulnerable. And that was exactly what he wanted.

As I sat there, my familiar at my feet, the air became colder, so much so that even the smallest drop of water would freeze solid once exposed. Hatch ruffled his feathers and hopped out of the circle to warm himself beside the candles. The skin on my fingers began to turn blue, tiredness washed over me suddenly, and a voice, low and raspy whispered in my ear. 

"Poor little witch... all alone in this world. Perhaps... you'd like a bit of... company." 

A shadow passed over me. The bitter cold of the air returned to its prior chill. My frostbitten skin returned to its normal shade of pale pink. The hole in my chest remained, but a new sort of ache over my heart had formed. I winced and pressed a hand against my chest only to feel a sharp pain. Glancing down, I drew back my winter cloak, coat, and shirt, to see that a bruise, no larger than a penny had formed there, its coloration and nature alarmingly familiar. 

"Well then," I whispered to myself after a hard swallow, "if this is to be my punishment for trusting in her, so be it. But you will not drain me, Demon. Not as long as I have any say in it."

I pulled the small knife from my boot and held out my right palm over the pentagram at the center of the circle. Pressing the blade into my hand, the sting of the blade was partially numbed by the cold and was quickly replaced by the warm flow of crimson blood. 

"Adprehendo te daemonium, virtute mea alligatum, usque ad mortem meam!"

As droplets of blood curdled on the pentagram, the voice of the demon in my head growled menacingly. He did not expect a witch of my caliber, but the decision to kill me had come too late. He could not do so now unless I allowed it. 

"Fine... but you will grow weary of me soon enough. And when you do... your flesh... shall burn. So sayeth Asmodeus... Bane of Solomon... Lord of Hell." 

I rose to my feet and stepped out of the circle. Hatch followed behind me until he caught up and perched on my shoulder. I climbed onto my horse and took a strong hold of the reins.

"Hatch, deliver a message to Miss Harkness for me, please." I ordered flatly. 

"Of course, my lady. What would you like me to tell her?" 

"I will not be returning to Salem again. And she would be wise to not seek me out. Aislin Stuart will no longer associate with the lover of Death." 

Hatch dipped his head and fluttered off my shoulder, turning southward as I spun my horse to the west, aiming to put Agatha and our history behind me.

What a fool I was to believe that I could...

[empanadaaaaaaa]

I ALSO FORGOT TO POST THE EPILOGUE VERSION OF MY SELFSHIP FUCKKKKKK

these are also from last year and only posted on fb.

After Ele's international studies ended, she had to go back to her country and Pete would be left on his own until 11 years later. Ele grows up to study toxicology and gets offered a job in New York, so she packs her stuff and leaves the country to establish a new life.

Her first week passes by and she decides to take a little trip to an aquarium to calm her nerves. She bought her tickets and took a little walk until she's left paralized, staring in awe at the huge shark tank of different species, until some guy approaches and taps her on her shoulder.

— "Ey', sweetheart. You wanna be in a movie?"

Ele turned around and saw a shorter guy standing. His tone seemed familiar, but Ele couldn't really notice a lot of his face since it's hidden by a hoodie and a cap, until he lifted his face and showed a toothy grin and some eyebrow raises. Those facial features quickly snapped on her mind and asked him:

—"Do I know you?"

which the guy responded with a "Just call me Pete". The brunette's eyes widened a bit and the last name that she had forgotten for years was about to quickly burst out her throat.

— "DiNunzio?"

Pete's grin was brushed off his face, a little nervous since nobody had a stranger adress him by his last name. He looked directly at the woman's dark orbs and, with a little quiver on his voice, he asked:

— "How do you know my name?".

Ele was surpised an old friend of her didn't quite remember her, maybe because she's not wearing those hippie clothes? Or her straightened hair?

—"How come you don't remember me? It's me! Elena! The girl who had her community service at the library?"

She got worried for Pete, explaining about her time, back when she was 16 and studying at Eltingville. The memory quickly got Pete to her ground, his beady white eyes getting bigger after seeing an old friend.

—"No fuckin' shit, you??!!"

He almost shouted, amused by her change of looks.

—"You look... different. Not that you look bad or anythin', you look pretty. Dat's it."

Pete was straightforward, honest with her, way different when he used to be a violent young man. The both of them remained still, standing beside eachother and now looking at the shark tank.

—"So, wat'chu working for? What brought you 'ere?"

Pete broke the silence, curious about how Ele has been through the years. He put his calloused hands in his pockets, keeping one mako shark in movement in his eyes.

—"I finished senior year back in Colombia. I graduated, went to college, studied pharmacology, toxicology, all that stuff. And I got a job offer when I graduated, but I had to move here in America. The offer said it pays well, so I'll get enough to live."

Ele calmly answered, satisfied about how far she's gone. She then inhaled and dared to ask the same question, a little curious about getting asked to participate in a movie.

—"And you, DiNunzio? What have you been up to? Are you in a movie crew, hiring actors in the wild?"

—"Well, yeah! That's sort of a part of what I do. I worked for my dad for a good time until I started workin' for cons and then at Chiller. But I met this one guy at a party, talkin' about horror porn, that shit I used to watch. That guy had a crew, specialized in doin' those movies and shit, and so I got hired at Sick Mofo. If you wanna watch some then come call me."

Pete reached his pocket and gave Ele a card contianing the information of Sick Mofo Productions, it's website and phone number. Something like a business card.

—"Interesting, you kept going with your horror stuff , I'm impressed. You doing good in there?"

Ele kept the card under the shirt's little pocket on the chest area, giving Pete a little warm smile.

—"It's awesome in there, at least for me. Lotsa chicks doin' the good stuff and havin' fun! Sight for sore eyes if ya tell me, sugar."

Pete flashed his confident, toothy grin to his friend, letting out a chuckle.

—"I'm glad we got to meet eachother again."

Elena stretched out her arm to give a friendly handshake. She had her manicure done perfectly, the tone of red that matched her skin like blood. Pete's cheeks tinted into a little red and reached out to shake her hand, illuminated by the blue of the water tank.

did this one today. the probability for these two (US) to get married is about a 50%. not because they're so in love with eachother (friend w benefits) but because their respective families are disappointed that they're both single and need to construct a family or whatever.

("me marrying my friend on my 30's after neither of us got a partner")

[yyadream]

Home Sweet Home

After defeating the Shredder and releasing New York citizens from the orb, Casey had returned back to her home to see if her Girls Scout had all returned. While the gang returned to the lair only to see their home destroyed. The home splinter raised his boys was gone. In the wreckage, Mikey found the drawing he had given to Karai before she passed.

“For 15 years this was our home,” Mikey cried, clinging to the drawing, “and now it's gone.” Miwa ran to him to confront her little brother.

Splinter approached Mikey, “My son, look with your heart not with your eyes. Yes we lost our home,” Splinter looked around to see the home he had raised was gone, “but home is where we are all together." He pulled everyone for a hug, they may be tired and injured but they were alive that what’s count.

“That’s sweet and all. And corny,”Donnie whispered the last part, “but we still need a place to live.”

Maybe you guys and stay with me and Miwa,” Tang Shen replied, “I know our home isn’t big enough but it's something for the meantime until you fine a new place.”

“My place is also open to…” Draxum's speech was interrupted by Miwa.

”Hell ya, sleepover at my place!” Miwa pulled April close to her, “you coming to sis.”

“You know it.”

“Since we finally have a temporary stay, Shelldon and I will… will,” Donnie realized that he sent his son to protect Karai and he lost his connection. “Oh my god Shelldon!” Donnie flew to his lab to check on Shelldon .

“Wait, son! It's too dangerous to wonder on your own.”

“I’ll go with him,” Draxum placed his hands on Splinter's shoulder, “You, Shen and the kids should head to Tang Shen’s place and rest. We’ll speak about the home situation later.”

“I can go with you,” Tang Shen said.

“No Shen, right now, I’m the only one who understands what he’s going through. He’ll need you when we get home.” Splinter and Shen gave Draxum a warm smile and thanked him as he vined always towards Donnie’s lair.

“Alright, kids! Let’s head home. We’ll find whatever is salvageable tomorrow.”

— — —

Donnie had entered his lab, which was barely recognizable with the rumbles. He searched with caution, not wanting to worsen his lab by collapsing it. Near a damage battle shell, Donnie had finally found a dismember Shelldon’s head. Donnie held his son as tears fell from his face.

“It’s okay Shelldon, I’m here.You did your best to protect Gram-Gram,” his body began to tremble, “it's all my fault, if my tech was better, you and Gram-Gram would have still been here … with us. We wouldn’t have lost our home.”

“It’s not your fault,” Draxum said as he sat next to him.

Donnie was started as he wasn’t expecting him, maybe Tang Shen, but Baron Draxum. He and Donnie don’t really have a good relationship.

Donnie wiped his tears, “what are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need company,” there was a silent pause, “look the whole situation isn’t your fault, it’s mine.”

“What!?”

“If only I knew Shredder was responsible for my people going into hiding. None of this would have happened.

“That’s not true,” Draxum looked at Donnie in shock, “the Foot Clan would have still used another yokai to take their essent to revive their master. If you also didn’t create us, who would have saved the world from the Shredder.” Draxum was moved, “yeah you created us for a bad reason but you know, you changed. Thank you for creating us, dad.”

“You called me, dad,” Donnie hugged Draxum. Draxum never expects Donnie, not only to call him dad, but to hug him. He cherished this moment.

“I'll tolerate this hug, but I won’t tolerate it if you tell anyone I hugged you.”

Draxum giggled, “agreed, let's head to Tang She’s apartment. By the way, if you like, I can help you rebuild Shelldon. After all, I am an alchemist. Maybe he can have some mystic energy too.”

“I think Shelldon would appreciate that.”

Donnie and Draxum were about to leave the lair when he spotted a green bandanna stuck by the ledge where Shredder had made a hole on the ground of the lair. He didn’t think much of it and continued to head out. They both finally reached Tang Shen’s apartment, Splinter took Donnie to Miwa who was healing everyone. Sunita had first aid ready for them in case Miwa needed to rest. Draxum helped Tang Shen prepare warm food, while April and the boys set up the table. They all slept together in the living room watching Jupiter Jim movies.

The next morning, the boys were ready to head back to the lair. April, Miwa and Sunita won't be joining them because of school, While Tang Shen and Draxum head to work.

“We’ll meet you guys back at the lair, after school,” April said.

“Have fun at school!” replied Mikey.

“I’ll try to see if my connection can help find another abandoned sewer or something for you guys to live,” Tang Shen talked to Splinter.

“I’ll try to leave early from work to help clean,” Draxum said.

“I don't know how to thank you guys? You two have done so much to help us.”

“What are families for, Lou.”

The boys arrived once again, their hearts still hurt. They have to keep moving on and find whatever is salvageable. Leo was in his room alone when he felt a presence. Assuming it was one of his brothers, Leo turned Piebald appeared.

“Hey Leo.”

Leo let out a girlish scream and fainted. Piebald managed to grab him in time before he fell. Everyone came running towards Leo’s room, they were ready to fight when they noticed Piebald.

“Hey guys, sorry I didn’t mean to scare the shell out of Leo.”

In excitement, Splinter ran towards his daughter to give her a hug, while pushing Leo aside.

“Oh my sweet daughter, how have you been? We miss you!”

“Miss you guys too. That's why I came home but when I arrived, everything was destroyed. What happened? Are you guys okay? Is mom and Miwa okay too?”

“You asked too many, Piebald. We’re coping, mom and Miwa are alright. Mom is at work and Miwa is at school. What happened here is a long.”

Splinter explained to Piebald the whole story of the Shredder full revival and Karai final moments.

“Wow, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“Don’t be, you’re safe and that's all the matters right now.”

“Where have you, baby sis,” said Raph.

“Well you know, wandering around the sewer and creating my own Mutant Animal team.”

“Wait, a team of what now,” Raph looked concerned at his sister.

Piebald was bashful, “That’s a different story, but I think I know a place for you guys to live.”

“Really!?” Leo was shocked.

“Yeah, I remember an abandoned subway station we used to hangout at.”

“Thank you Piebald for sparing us sometime to find us a new lair,” Donnie was glad someone found them a place. He didn’t feel like looking around the sewer without his full tech. “I better inform April and Miwa of our new location.”

“What there wasn’t like an abandoned water pumping station or something,” Leo said in a sassy tone.

Splinter smacked Leo on the head with his tail, “Dumb Dumb, we shouldn’t be stingy.”

“I know but this was our home. I guess part of me doesn’t want to leave this place.”

”You see, son, changes can be good. I know it can be scary, but we’re going to get through this together.”

“Um, what's going on here?” Draxum left work early, as promised. Well he made sure the mutant silverfish took care of the cafeteria while he’s gone, “who’s she?” pointing at Piebald.

Mikey ran to Draxum, “great news dad, Piebald found a new lair for us!”

“Who’s Piebald?”

“Oh right, this is Piebald,” Splinter grabbed Piebald for a proper introduction, “she’s my daughter. She was once my pet fish but now she’s a mutant like us.”

Draxum whispered, “your daughter?”

Draxum remembered the day he found the turtles, he had grabbed five turtles to turn into his perfect warriors. His lab later exploded and assumed they all perished, along with Lou Jitsu. However for the past fourteen years they have been alive hidden in the sewer of New York with their rat father Lou Jitsu, now known as Splinter. When they appeared, there were only four. If they were alive maybe the fifth turtle was too, she’s the boy's sister and a map turtle, he sent his goons to search for the female turtle.

Raph got up and clapped his hands, “Okay guys let’s go check out our new lair.”

“I call dibs on the biggest room,” said Leo.

Donnie looked annoyed at his brother, “you’re already calling dibs and don’t even know what it looks like yet.”

“Well I’m still have to choose first.”

The guys followed Piebald to their permanent new home, but Draxum pulled Splinter to the side to talk. “Sorry boys, Splinter and I will catch up with you guys later. Tang Shen should be on her way to the sewer, we don’t don’t want her to get lost.”

“Okay, dad, I’ll send you our location,” Donnie said.

“Wait, I want to go too,” Splinter looked bummed.

The lair was awkward at first but Splinter finally spoked up, “what’s wrong Drax? Why did you pull me away from seeing my new home.”

Draxum pulled a green bandanna from his sleeve, “you never told the boys about their sister, have you?”

Splinter’s face looked pale when he saw the bandanna, he grabbed it quickly away from his hands. He held to it as tears fell, “I was too afraid… they wouldn’t forgive me that I left her behind. I let my own daughter die in that fire.”

“What if I tell you she’s alive?”

Splinter looked at Draxum in shock.

“When I found out the boys were alive, I still held on hoping their sister was alive too, so I sent Huginn and Muninn to find her. Do you want to know where we have been for the past fourteen years?”

They both looked at each other intensively, Splinter was speechless. Before splinter could give him an answer, they were later interrupted by Tang Shen holding some pizza, “Am I interrupting something?”

— — —

The gang had finally arrived at their new lair.

“Well this place looks like a piece of junk,” Donnie looked in disgust.

“Donnie!” Raph yelled.

“What, it’s true.”

“As an artist, I see potential. All we have to do is fix a little of this and that and it would feel like home again,” Mikey said, examining the subway station.

He’s right, we can make it work,” Leo grabbed his brothers and sister, “Mad Dogs and Mutant Animal, welcome to our new home.”

The boys walked around the station and claimed their own rooms, while Donnie created a blueprint of the station, figuring out where everything would go, living room, kitchen, his lab, etc.

Splinter and Draxum finally arrived at the station along with Tang Shen.

“Mom,” yelled Piebald, going for a hug.

“Hey Piebald, how have you been, sweety?”

Mikey got up in excitement, “yeah pizza!”

“I thought you boys would be hungry, but I should have bought more if I known Piebald was here.”

“But before you guys have some pizza, there’s something Draxum and I need to talk to you guys about,” Splinter sounded nervous.

“What’s going on?” Mikey looked worried until Tang Shen gestured for them to sit.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you boys sooner,” Splinter tried to calm down, “You boys have a sister and an older brother.”

Everyone froze in shock about the news, including Tang Shen and Braxum as they weren’t informed about this brother.

“Wait what, I only mutated just five…” Draxum stop mid sentence as he remembers Lou Jitsu had a rat companion with him, meaning he was more likely mutated as well.

“During my Battle Nexus day, I had a rat companion that I love like a son, I named him Shiro. He was mutated with us but I don’t know if he’s alive or his whereabouts. What I do know is your sister named her Frida, like you boys, she was named after a famous painter, Frida Kahlo.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about them, our siblings!” yelled Leo.

“Because I thought they had died in the lab, but I was recently informed your sister has been alive this whole time.”

“Yet you kept this big secret from us this whole time,” Donnie was angry, as well as Leo and Raph. Mikey is still grasping this new found information, “they are our siblings, we have the right to know!”

Tang Shen tried to calm them before they say something they’ll regret.

“So where’s our sister?” Raph demanded.

“You boys have met her already,” Draxum mentions, “she works with Donatello’s girlfriend, Olivier, as her assistant. You may know her as Rebel.”

[viceroywrites]

reunions and opportunities - chapter six

gary x fem!reader

both of you didn't get the ideal high school experience it would make sense that you both would be dreading the reunion.

little did you know how many doors would open after that.

ao3 version here - chapters on tumblr are slightly rewritten and restructured.

content warning: fic contains smut in later chapters. discussions of mental health including trauma and potential ptsd (aka gary is traumatized).

chapter six

The tension in the room was palpable and seconds seemed like hours.

‘Say something, Gary. Say anything.’

The burly henchman says over and over to himself as he returns your gaze, seeing your [color] orbs swimming with a mixture of emotions - confusion, hurt, guilt.

Yet nothing came out, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. No words felt right in this moment where it felt like he was caught red-handed. 

Lucky for him, you covered his tracks, somehow having his back despite the shock still settling into your system as your hand - one that Gary had held tightly just this morning - extended out in a cordial manner. 

“Nice to meet you, 21. Hopefully we’ll be working together closely soon.” Your lips spread into a thin smile as you put on an act that you hoped that Gary would play along with just for now.

Gary’s eyebrows raised in surprise and he stammered out a reply, “L-Likewise… uhm…” He stopped himself from saying your name that was on the tip of his tongue, realizing that Sheila had not yet announced it. His gaze shifted reluctantly from you to the dark haired councilwoman who quickly realized her lack of introduction.

“Oh sorry, 21! This is [Your Name]...” She replied though her blue eyes narrowed at how tense your body had become after meeting Gary and how your light hearted mood shifted despite your best efforts to try and mask it. 

However, her husband was not as perceptive of the mood change, chowing down on his meal as he gestured to the chair next to you, “Come on, 21! Eat up, I know you’re starving from all the work on the vestibule you did with Manolo!” The Monarch gave a coy wink to Gary, referencing the real work his henchman was actually doing this evening. 

“R-Right…” Gary slid next to you, his fingers itching to hold your hand or give your thigh a squeeze as a gesture of comfort, despite feeling confused and somewhat betrayed himself. A myriad of questions rang through his head as he made his plate of food. Thankfully, the Monarch continued his detailed story of his arching, his nasally tone becoming background noise.

‘How long has she been working for the Guild?’

‘Did she know who I was when we met at the reunion?’

‘What are the odds that she starts working with my boss’ wife?’

Next to him, you’re having a similar dialogue in your mind as you pick at the noodles on your plate, your voracious appetite disappearing.

‘Did he know I worked for the Guild?’

‘He had to have known if he knows who Wide Wale is.’

‘Why didn’t he say something sooner?’

Your train of thought is interrupted when the Monarch calls out your name, looking up from your plate to see him staring you down with a grin, “So my wife tells me you used to work for Wide Wale before you got reassigned under her… how’d you land that gig? Sounds like a snoozefest, all these New York villains are all bark, no bite.”

Sheila rolled her eyes at her husband’s commentary but gave a knowing smile behind it, “Not everyone hates their arch-nemesis as passionately as you do, honey.” Her gaze flickered to you, “Well, [Your Name]’s introduction to the Guild is pretty similar to mine.”

Both Malcolm and Gary made a face, knowing exactly how Sheila started her journey of villainy. “Oh please don’t tell me that slimy asshole got his non-existent claws on you too!” The red-haired villain groaned and Gary shuddered, his fists clenching underneath the table at the image.

You quickly shook your head, chuckling nervously, “No, not at all!” Your eyes quickly glanced over at Gary, wincing as you were about to hit him with another hard to swallow pill, “I just graduated college and was having a hard time finding work. I was dating one of Wide Wale’s bodyguards at the time and he put in a good word for me - next thing, I know I’m a personal assistant for Wide Wale and a bodyguard for his daughter, Sirena.” 

Gary finally spoke, staring at you incredulously, “You seriously dated a dude who dressed up as a freaking whale lice as his uniform?” 

You blinked up at Gary, your eyes narrowing up at him and before logic could hit the brakes, your mouth went into autopilot as you responded, “Well, apparently, I’m dating a guy who dresses like a butterfly as his uniform so I guess I have a type.”

Silence engulfed the kitchen after your bold statement, Gary’s jaw dropping as you openly admitted in front of your boss and his that you two knew each other and on top of that, were dating.

The Monarch and Dr. Mrs. the Monarch exchanged bewildered glances and the Monarch chimed in, “Wait, I thought you were seeing that girl from your high school reunion?”

Gary let out a sigh as your hands covered your face in embarrassment, “Yeah… [Your Name] is that girl and we both just found out too, thank you very much.” The tension in his voice is now clear, wishing he could sink into the ground and disappear.

He thought nothing would top the embarrassment he felt after drunkenly making out with Dr. Mrs the Monarch on top of a passed out Monarch.

He was wrong. 

Thankfully, the former source of his embarrassment came to the rescue as Sheila cleared her throat, “Alright, it’s been a confusing fucking night for all of us and it’s getting late. It seems like you two need to… talk things out.” 

Her gaze sympathetic towards you and Gary’s flustered expressions, “Take her home, Gary. Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning.” 

-

The Police played quietly in the background as you stared out the window, taking in the familiar sight of the cityscape.

Awkward silence hung in the air between you and Gary and out of fear of letting your emotions get the better of you, you did not want to break it.

“So when were you going to tell me?” Gary’s voice cut through the silence, his gaze shifting to you as he stopped in front of the red light.

You bit your lip, not knowing the answer to his question and he let out a sigh, “Were you going to tell me at all?”

Your fingers anxiously played with the hem of your shirt as you finally answered his second query, “Of course, I was… but I didn’t want to scare you away. I mean how do you break it to your new boyfriend that you work for a worldwide villain organization?”

Gary remarked dryly, “I guess the Guild didn’t think that any of their henchmen were going to live past the first year of working let alone be able to have a stable relationship outside of henching.”

Your lips spread into a genuine smile at his comment, shaking your head, “I do have the same question for you… were you going to tell me?”

The henchman’s large hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he began driving once the light turned green, “Honestly, I told myself last night that I had to tell you soon or else I was going to lose you.” He let out a shaky breath after his confession, “This is such a stupid fucking question…. but am I going to lose you?”

Your eyes widened at his question and you finally looked over at the strong henchman who seemed like he was trembling, clutching the steering wheel for dear life. You placed a soothing hand on his forearm and while he had to keep his eyes focused on the road, he could feel your warm gaze. 

“Gary, do you really think after I dated and I quote “a dude who dressed up as a freaking whale lice as his uniform”, I would reject you? Sure, I’m shocked and a bit hurt that you didn’t tell me sooner…” You sighed, squeezing his forearm gently, “But we’re in the same boat. I can finally have someone to vent about the fucking Council of 13 and how stupid the Guild can be.” You joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

Gary let out a sigh of relief, finally pulling up to your apartment. He turned towards you, hastily cupping your cheeks into his warm, clammy hands and responded with a warm, practically desperate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise but they fluttered shut, pressing your lips firmly back, savoring the sensation before you both pulled away for air. 

“What are the fucking odds?” He chuckled and your laughter joined with his, your hands resting atop of his. “Slim to none but hey, you got yourself a hot villainess girlfriend.” You tease.

“Oh sweet! I swear, 16 year old me would be creaming his pants right now if he heard that.” Gary joked which you playfully rolled your eyes at. You pressed another sweet kiss on his lips which Gary swore was becoming addictive to shut him up before staring into his eyes with a sudden seriousness.

“After today, no more secrets. So if there’s anything else - you have some weird mutation that turns you into a butterfly every blue moon or you’re an undercover OSI agent  - you have to tell me now, Gary.” You say with sincerity.

Gary’s skin suddenly turned cold, as the main thought that kept replaying in his head at the dinner table circled back to him:

‘What if she finds out about the Blue Morpho?’

Despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to tell the truth, this wasn’t just his secret he was keeping - it was the Monarch’s and with you working so closely with Dr. Mrs, there was no way he could spill this secret.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gary said with finality, “No more secrets, I promise.” 

[shadow-tumbler]

Whispers of the Spirits, Roar of the Dragons Chapter 2

3rd person pov

The next day the Spenglers head to the address that Winston gave them and they're are greeted by a friendly looking woman "hello there, you must be the Spenglers" she says "ahh yea that's us" callie says and the woman let's them inside "Winston told me that you saw something odd yesterday" the woman says and once Phoebe explained what she saw the woman quickly pulled out a book

"This is the book of dragons and from the descriptions you gave the two dragons you saw were a nightfury and a Nightlight" the woman says as she pulled shows the pages of the two species "why would they be in new York of all places and why has no one seemingly seen them?" Phoebe asked. The woman shrugs "that is puzzeling me too" she says "wait a second, Would this have anything to do with that orbe?" Phoebe asked and apon showing the woman a picture her eyes widened. She quickly turns the page "that looks just like this.......the dragon gen said to hold all dragon magic but not only that it can give anyone a dragon form" she says and everyone looks at one another "is there anything else we should know about?" Gary asked "if this falls into the wrong hands it will lead to that person being able to control all dragons" she says.

The Spenglers fianlly make it back to the lab and a surprise visitor was waiting "jasper!" Trevor called out "yea it's me trev" jasper says with a smile as he greets each member of his family "I thought you couldn't make till next week?" Callie asked "well i got an early flight and wanted to surprise you guys" jasper says to his family and something that Phoebe noticed was that the dragon gem glowed brighter when jasper walked past as he was shown around properly. She didn't say anything since she was gonna do her own investigation, she looked over at zoey who was working as a temporary assistant to lars till she's 18 when she'll fully become a employee. Zoey and lars had definitely developed a brother sister relationship over the time they worked together and she especially loved knowing that she was safe here. The two girls had met in summer ville the entire saving the world from gozer situation and they started dating, zoey had moved to new and she's satying with Ray who's her grandfather.

Meanwhile two little shots of magic slip out and find their targets, jasper and zoey both felt this overwhelming dizziness and before they can hit the ground Gary catches jasper while lars catches zoey and they take them both the medical room. After being checked over their left to rest but the second the door shuts it locked and the two start screaming in pain as they feel their bones cracking and changing shape. On the over side of the door Gary kept slamming his shoulder into the door "oh why won't this damn door open?!" He yelled in frustration "out of the way!" Trevor yelled holding a fire axe that he used to cut though the door so they could get it open. Once they do get inside their left in shock, the sight before they was a mess and their stood two dragons but they had assumed they had taken the lives of jasper and zoey which made Phoebe burst into tears which in turn coursed the dragons to panic and knock everyone down in the escape. Once outside the two dragons took off and after a bit they crashed into another dragon since they weren't paying attention and the 3 landed "Ow that hurt" zoey says groaning. The other dragon changed and zoey couldn't believe her eyes "your the new intern!" She yelled "yes and I know this is a lot to take in but I promise I.....well we can explain" cleo says and jasper became confused as he and zoey changed back "what do you mean we?" He asked and that's when another woman steps out of the shadows "she means me and her" the woman says. Jasper takes a closer look and he was left speechless "grandma?" He asked softly and talyn nodded.

Meanwhile a new guy had taken up residency in the an renovated house that he had built above his underground base "soon we will have the very gem that'll help me have the control over those beasts that I deserve" he says smirking. He eyes up and lightfury in a cage as it whined "and you my dear are going to be my bait" he says to her "I don't wanna hurt anyone!" She yelled growling "you have no choice, you have no one else!" He yelled at her.

[riominilol]

[TW: Slight gore, death at end]

The rich ones were the first to go, the big celebrities and political figures who all rushed to claim some sort of habitual planet. Ever since they took those weird pods, the world was given broadcasts on the big screens and their TVs of how those people were doing now. Once society started to fully trust this travel method, it was the middle class who started to go. There was talk at school with those kinda rich girls going to that new planet with those weird star orb looking things. They’re kinda cute.

But then there’s those lower class people, we were happy at first but within a years time, half of us were gone and half of us had blood staining our hands. They left a lot of materials unattended, and we were smart enough to figure out most of them. We were like animals, whoever was stronger got more things. Whoever was smart enough to steal, got even more. If you were weak, you’re dead meat.

I still see bodies littered around from the ruins of what once was my home.

Sometimes we saw a protected areas but the rich assholes left that for tours that the other wordlians could tour around, it was the only areas they cared of. Unless you agreed to be a janitor or tour guide for the rest of your life without ever seeing your family again, you weren’t allowed in. Thats what my grandma and uncle did.

I doubt it isn’t even that good either way. So I gave up going around there.

Today I lounge around an empty area which used to be… I think New York? Most of the boards are broken but from time to time theres this odd mechanical squeal that comes from them. I carry a backpack with cans of food and some bottles, I’m starting to run low so I’m probably gonna have to steal.

I’m walking alone for now, sometimes I go with groups but it isn’t too wise to when most of them try to freeload off you. So for now I’m scrounging around, I hear these soft buzzing noises nearby which usually means that theres another one of these protected areas.

I learned how they work, they’re these areas in bubble’s that make illusions to the people inside of the outside area being completely perfect and pristine. I wonder what lies they come up with there.

Normally I’d ignore them and walk on but I end up hearing these noises of things being dragged in rubble and clanking. Not good, they’re close too. So I’d run and take cover in a nearby building, jumping through a broken window. I sliced my hand open in the process, cursing quietly as I dive next to a worn down cabinet which the door is nowhere to be found. I’m also right next to an open window that gently shines light onto the floor. I make sure to move my leg out of it’s way .

Rummaging through my backpack I swung in front of me when I slid down, I got out some gauze and spat onto my open wound, wiping it down. I got distracted with my own wound that once I looked up, I got startled of the sight of a … creature with many eyes and a clanky suit you’d see on knights in movies looking down at me. A strange gurgling noise came from it.

My survival instincts kicked in and I immediately shuffled away, jumping up and taking my hunting knife out of it’s holster. I look at the creature, a low growl coming from me.

“Get BACK!” I yell, pointing the knife towards it. It jumped back in surprise before a sound that maybe was a sheepish giggle came from it as it climbed through the window it stuck it’s head in. I took a step back, glaring at the creature.

“Sorry! Uh, my mum told me you ‘humans’ were taught to speak Blhoveush.” It chuckled sheepishly. “I’m Ghrelash! Human name is Grendell, though… you don’t have a nametag? It hidden?”

My knife lowered a bit, I just stared at the thing with a puzzled look. It gave a look of confusion back. “Um— I’m-“ My mind went blank.

Names were barely helpful now unless you were in a group, hell I forgot mine. What’s a human sounding name that isn’t ‘Bone’…?

“… L-Lilith. I’m Lilith.” I meekly answer, putting my knife back and picking up my backpack in the corner. My hand is just oozing blood so I go back to bandaging up my hand. Grendell looked at me with worry.

She reached out to me. “Is… huh. My Humanese isn’t very good, I sorry.”

I wave my hand dismissively, tucking in the last piece of gauze. “You’re understandable, it’s okay. You’re also not supposed to be here.”

“I was going to ask you since I smelled human! But… you..” She trailed off, her eyes looking me up and down.

I knew that look. I knew she didn’t mean it, to look so judgementally. And she was just so innocent so ..

“Dirty? Odd? Yeah.” I responded with a chuckle.

“No! No, like… different! The humans there are… they’re..” Grendell reached one of her… fins? To me? “…Bland.”

“… Uh.” I just froze as she slowly pat me. Some dirt got onto her pristine suit. “H-Holy shit!- Fuck I’m so sorry-“

Grendell licked the dirt that got onto her fin. “Huh! This tastes quite good.”

“O.. kay then,” I just blink. She was so innocent…? “Well, you need to get back. I’m walking you back.” I sling my backpack onto my arm before hopping out the window. She did as well but with way more noise. The clanging made me flinch, I wanted to tell her to be quiet but then I’d have to explain why.

It wasn’t hard to find the bubble, it shone a light blue and looked so different to this hell of a wasteland. I got her there safely, and she stood there staring at the bubble.

“Lets go in together Lili-“ She turned around and I had already scurried away. I had left my hunting knife with her for a memoir, it was snuck into the belt of her suit. Hiding in an abandoned building and waiting until night. “… Lilith?”

One of the people who protect the borders found her sitting around, leading the alien back to the bubble. She still spoke of me and asked of where I went to the soldier but he spoke softly and quietly to her like a child, pushing her back inside…

I wonder how she’s doing now… I smile as the knife is pressed to my neck, these men cursing at me for stealing their food. My hands bounded behind my back. I had gotten too careless.

That makes me wonder why this is the memory that shows to me when my life fades from my eyes and I choke on my own blood.

I hope that Grendell is doing well. May we meet again…

Humanity was the first species to achieve space travel in our galaxy. In our loneliness we uplifted several other species. Please write a short from the perspective of one of those uplifted people interacting either with humans, or with the ruins humanity left behind.

[whitepolaris]

Midnight in the Castillo

The Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine is America's only true medieval structure. The Spanish began building the fort in 1672, taking twenty-three backbreaking years to complete it. It is built from coquina, an indigenous composition of bonded shells that can easily absorb the impact of a cannonball. The fort has experienced many attacks, but it has never been conquered.

Through its long history, the Castillo de San Marcos has held untold numbers of prisoners, including Seminole Indians, Geronimo's Chiricahua band, pirates, and prisoners of war. The famous Seminole leader Osceola was held here before being taken to Fort Moultrie, South Carolina, where he died. And that's a weird story of its own.

After Osceola's death in 1838, his head was cut off by Dr. Frederick Weedon, the army doctor who had treated him. Dr. Weedon returned to St. Augustine with the embalmed head and displayed it in his drugstore for many years. These are stories about how he used the head to discipline his children by placing it on their bedposts. After the doctor's death, the Weedon family donated Osceola's head to a New York surgeon, who gave it to the museum at the Medical College of New York City. The head was lost when an 1866 fire destroyed the museum.

Over the years, the fort has collected more than its share of ghost stories, making it a promising place to look for the dead but not quite departed.

The Spook Hunters, by the way, include a wide range of members, from skeptics to believers, who use various "ghost-detecting" devices, video recorders, and even a Ouija board. Chief spook hunter Owen Sliter invited Weird Florida to participate with his group in this rare event.

A thunderstorm was raging as we entered the sally port of the Castillo. It was dark and damp inside, and the occasionally flashes of lightning reflected off the musty stone walls made a perfect setting for a ghost hunt. The Spook Hunters used the old guard room as a staging area, before splitting off into different directions to try their individual skills at detecting spooks. Standing inside this dark place, we were momentarily transported back to the time when prisoners had shuffled along inside these walls. Using flashlights, we scanned those walls, looking at years of graffiti etched into the stone, though EMF detectors indicated no abnormal energy fields.

As we stood there, lightning flashes lip up the courtyard, and the sounds of thunder rolled overhead. The deep rumbling noises could have easily been mistaken for cannon fire. They say that if you put your ear to the walls of the Castillo, you can hear battle sounds. One of our party tried this but got only wet ears.

The first unexplainable occurrence happened in the old prison room when Spook Hunter Karen reported smelling a fragrance she called patchouli. This was interesting, because other people have reported smelling perfume here, a scent that some claim belongs to the ghost of Senora Delores Mari. According to the tale, she was having a love affair with Captain Manuel Abela. When Delores's husband, Colonel Garcia Mari, discovered their shenanigans, he sealed them up alive behind a stone wall in the gunpowder room. Now, it you believe the story, then you'll believe that Senora Delores is the woman who is frequently seen romping about, leaving the lingering scent of her perfume.

In 1833, a cannon fell through the fort's gun deck into a narrow secret room, in which were found human skeletons. It appeared that some unfortunate souls had in truth been sealed up in the fort, although some records say the remains were animal bones.

The most interesting event occurred in the room where Seminole Indians were held during the Second Seminole War. Photographs taken in this dark room showed orbs of light that could not be explained. There were no reflective surfaces in this room, no floating dust particles, and the anomalies were caught on digital camera, ruling out film flaws. Following the unexplainable orbs, one of the Spook Hunters reported getting high readings on his EMF detector. He had followed these readings from the bottom of the stairway up to the terreplein or the gun platform, where the energy seemed to dissipate. Owen tried to re-create this reading by following the same source but could not pick up the energy field. All possible causes were checked out, such as motion detectors and electrical systems, but we found no explanation for the weird EMF readings.

During our visit, no spiritual entities materialized, but the strange orbs and unexplainable EMF reading were enough for the Spook Hunters to declare their hunt a success.

[nxtdrdre]

001.

Within the years spent living in New York and exploring the ins and outs of the city, it never occurred to Andres that he’d ever be back in Eldridge, but here he was, in the town he was so desperate to escape from. Of course, the hotel bar would be his first spot for the night, in dire need to down several drinks until he seemingly would pass out from more than just the shock of reuniting with everyone from high school. Still, doubtful, and skeptical, the male appeared at the far too familiar bar. 

The hands that were hidden away within the confinements of his pockets were retracted just long enough to pull himself onto the nearest bar stool. Once there, chocolate-tinted optics scanned the room in disbelief. Everything familiar felt so *wrong*, like he wasn’t supposed to be here, because well, he wasn’t. Pushing away the thoughts that were suffocating him, he caught sight of a familiar face pacing back and forth between tables, he decided against distracting her with his stupidity, and instead, turned his frame to order himself a gin and tonic. Once the alcohol hit the base of his throat, he felt his body immediately release all the tension that accumulated throughout the week. Things seemed to settle after the funeral, but at the same time, there was something in the pit of his stomach telling him that things would soon erupt once more.

With a slight lift of his phone from the counter, he recognized instantly who was bombarding him— or so he thought. With an eye roll in response, Andres finished off his drink quickly, before he spun his body around once more to face the DJ. Timing his move perfectly, he found himself nodding along to the music filling the gaps between the sparse crowd. Not even his clear infatuation with the music coursing through the ambiance could keep his attention for long, because once his phone continued to buzz against the wooden counter, all concentration halted. Groaning internally as his orbs finally gave into the madness, skimming over the dozens of text messages that were coming in. It was then that he noticed one message in particular standing out from the rest. As he watched the accompanying video, he raised his head to glance at others who seemed to have received the same message. Disbelief washed over him, causing him to inhale sharply, and after what felt like an eternity, a dry sigh escaped his lips.

Throughout the day, a palpable tension had gripped him, and its source now became unmistakably clear. Returning to a space laden with memories that had shaped him, while yearning to turn a new leaf and consign those memories to oblivion became a challenge. It was even more difficult to know that he was stuck in a never-ending cycle for the foreseeable future. Suddenly, attending the funeral, a decision shared by many, seemed like a grave mistake, and he wasn't alone in harboring this regret. His mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead, dancing with the possibility of being next if he didn’t remain in this horrible small town.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

The Nuclear Weapons of King Henry II

Recent studies of an ancient manuscript suggest that King Henry II may have used alchemy to develop working nuclear weapons.

King Henry II reigned in England from 1154 to 1189, with a break in 1171 when Henry III gave the nation a monarchic "test drive" which resulted in wars with every other country in Europe, two burnings of London in unrelated incidents, and the city of Bumshambleshire changing its name to "York."

Henry II was himself constantly bickering with Louis VII owing to his firing and beheading of the latter's friend and Archbishop of Canterbury, Samuel Beckett, who had longed for a return to France but instead was trapped jumping from church to church across England, hoping each time that his next leap would be the leap home.

Louis VII had invested nearly eight bâtons (adjusted for inflation, 70 trillion dollars) in military weaponry to fight Henry II, resulting in an arms race of sorts in which France developed such weapons as the trebuchet, the couillard, and the chose qui jette des trucs.

Henry grew afraid and put more and more into development of conventional weaponry, but feared it would not be enough. So he invested in alchemy, and set the infamous scientist Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Oxford to work.

Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Oxford, or "Phil" as he was known to the king, quickly developed something he called "The Glowing Heavy Orb." The orb was made of pure uranium, which in those days could only be mined from the northern Scottish penal colony mines of Rura Penthe.

Having bought up all the uranium across the isles, Phil smelted the metal into a single orb, which glowed with what we now know to be radiation, but was in his time believed to be a supernatural aura. Phil theorized that if the orb were to be split and recombined suddenly, it would invoke the fury of God. Modern science calls this the "modulated neutron initiator principle" but Phil called it "Ye Orbe Go Boome Principlee," as was the fashion at the time.

Henry II was initially concerned that it might be blasphemous, but was assured by Phil in the Proclamation of Lordly Bounty In The Matter Of Weaponry which read simply "No it's not."

Fortunately for France, Henry II finally met in person with Louis VII at the Second International Orgy Of Rheims and settled their differences in a drunken make-out session instead of battle. Upon his return to England, Henry ordered the weapon dismantled, with its components to be sent to the three corners of the Earth, which was at the time believed to be triangular in shape.

Henry II remained on good terms with Louis VII until his death in 1189, leaving a loving inscription to him on his tombstone reading "II+VII=LXIX." Phil, after his frustrations in alchemy, moved to Spain and changed his name to Felipe and invented the sport of “Soccer,” known as “Football” in the United States. Around the time of his departure, the orb went missing before it could be broken apart. 

The original rules of Soccer included a previously unheard of condition in which the ball could not be handled directly, but had to be kicked away quickly. In early games, this was enforced by the fact the ball, which weighed 30 pounds, tended to burn the hands of all who held onto it. Additionally, though little remains of the original alchemical manuscript, one image does remain- That of the orb itself: