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h1nanii · 30 days ago

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Concrete Promises [Pink Clouds Pt.7]

Pairing: Plug!Law x Fem!Reader

[Pt.1 ] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

[Genre: ModernAU!, Romance, NSFW 18+, angst, Fluff, comfort, Emotional confrontation, vulnerability, Adult themes, Princess treatment, Luxury Romance]

[Warnings: NSFW, Violence, Mention of drugs, Firearm usage, Explicit themes, Soft dom!, p in v sex, makeup sex, aggressive language/behavior.]

MINORS DNI

He left without a trace, like he never cared. So why did he seem care when his phone flashed with that notification?

He was still signed in.

Still getting every motion alert from your doorstep.

And now he was watching—watching this man corner you, watching you scream for help, watching your hand scramble toward the doorframe—

Then the screen went black.

You didn’t remember much after that.

A neighbor opened their door and screamed. The man ran. You got inside, barely able to breathe, hands shaking so bad you couldn’t lock the door right.

You collapsed in the hallway, sobbing.

Then your phone rang.

Unknown number.

You answered with a shaking hand. “H-Hello?”

His voice hit you like a freight train. The sound of his V8 roaring in the distant background.

“Where are you?”

You choked on a sob. “Home.”

“Did he touch you?”

“Law—”

“Did he fucking touch you?!”

“No—but he almost did.”

Silence. Static. Something rustling.

“I’m on my way.”

“Where were you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Why’d you leave me?”

More silence.

Then, just before the line went dead

“…I thought I was the threat.”

—

LAW’S POV

The fight hadn’t even been the worst they’d had.

But something about the way her voice cracked—“you could’ve died, and now you’re handing me the tools to watch you die again”—it buried itself in his chest like another bullet.

He left because he knew she was right.

Because he didn’t want to put her in a position where loving him could get her killed.

Because if she was gone, he wouldn’t survive it. He already knew that. The hospital made that clear.

He thought silence was the safest thing he could give her.

But silence became something else.

He hated the way her name lit up his screen. He hated how his fingers hovered over the answer button every time she called, but he didn’t press it. Not once.

Because if he heard her voice, he’d cave.

And if he caved, he’d crawl right back into her arms and bring the danger with him.

He was on a couch in some no-name trap when his phone buzzed with the Ring notification.

Motion detected at front door: 11:38 PM.

He tapped it out of habit. Then he saw her.

Panicked. Cornered. Backed against the wall.

Some dude in a red jacket grabbing her.

Law’s world stopped.

He didn’t think. He grabbed his keys. Didn’t say goodbye to the boys. grabbed his piece. Didn’t even grab his shoes.

All he saw was her.

Screaming. Backed against the door. Alone.

And he’d left her there.

—

You didn’t even know you were still on the floor when the first knock hit the door.

You startled, still crying, barely able to move.

Then the second knock came.

“Baby. It’s me.”

You scrambled up, unlocked the door with shaking hands, and—

There he was.

Hair messy. Hoodie halfway zipped. Face wild with panic. He looked like he’d been running for miles.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You just threw yourself into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, fisting his hoodie like he’d disappear again if you let go.

His arms wrapped around you instantly.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

You pulled back just far enough to look at him, hands on his jaw. “What the fuck is wrong with you—Why didn’t you come back? I called 46 times”

His expression cracked then. Breaking into tears as he held you tighter.

Like he’d been holding everything back until now.

“I thought I was the thing hurting you” he whispered. “I thought the best way to protect you was to stay the fuck away. But seeing that video—you—screaming for help, and I wasn’t there…”

He trailed off, throat working as he pulled you back into him.

“I’m not built to lose you. Not after everything. Not like that.”

You shook your head, tears falling fresh. “You left me alone, Law. I didn’t know if you were dead or just done with me. You shut me out.”

“I know” he whispered. “And I hate myself for it.”

You pulled away again, barely able to breathe. “You gave me a gun and vanished. That’s not love, Law. That’s not how you protect someone.”

“I thought you’d be safer if I wasn’t around.”

“And I wasn’t!” you snapped. “Don’t you get it? You leaving doesn’t erase what you’ve done. It just takes you away from me.”

His eyes locked with yours tearfully.

For once, no walls.

No ego. No deflection.

Just pure, bone-deep regret.

“I’m sorry” he said, quietly. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You grabbed his hand, placed it on your chest, over your heart. “You want to protect me? Then stop trying to disappear when things get hard. Be here. With me.”

He nodded. Slowly. Sincerely.

“I’m not going anywhere again.” His hands reached out in concern towards your arm that was still slightly trembling after slipping on the pair of slides he forgot by the door. “But for now let’s go, I’m getting you checked out.”

His car remained the same as you remembered, all black interior, the scent of sativa mixed with the black ice air freshener. The little pink gems on the dashboard spelled out in your name on the passenger side.

—

You hadn’t said much since the hospital released you.

A bandage peeked out from your jacket sleeve where the bastard had grabbed you. Your neck still ached from the chokehold. The bruises hadn’t bloomed yet— but Law saw them anyway, every time he blinked.

He hadn’t let go of you since.

Not when you flinched unlocking the apartment door. Not when you quietly checked the locks twice. Not even now, sitting on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, his hoodie swallowing you whole.

Law sat across from you, elbows on his knees, eyes glued to the floor.

His voice was low. Gravel.

“I should’ve been there.”

You didn’t answer.

“You wouldn’t’ve been alone if I’d just fucking answered the phone. Or stayed. Or—” He stopped, jaw tight. “—Or never put you in this shit to begin with.”

Your throat burned.

“I could’ve died, Law.”

He nodded slowly. “I know.”

“I thought I was going to.”

He lifted his head, eyes bloodshot, guilt swimming in the brown you loved so much.

“I was screaming” you whispered. “He had me on the ground. If the Ring camera hadn’t sent you that alert…”

Law’s fists clenched on his knees.

You broke. Quiet, broken sobs, shoulders shaking as you finally let the fear spill out of your chest. “You said I was safe with you. That this life wasn’t gonna follow me anymore.”

He was already moving before you could say more — crossing the room, pulling you into his arms with a gentleness that split you open. You clung to him like the last solid thing left in the world.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, lips pressed to your temple. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shook in his arms, hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt.

“I can’t do this forever, Law” you breathed. “Looking over my shoulder. Praying the people who hate you don’t come for me instead.”

He nodded into your hair. “I know. I know.”

Then silence.

Heavy. Thick. Until he finally said the words that would shift the ground beneath your feet.

“I was gonna wait to bring this up. But not after tonight.”

You leaned back, eyes searching his face.

“I want to marry you.”

You froze.

“I don’t care if it’s stupid timing. If we’re too messy. If the world’s still fucked. I almost lost you, and I realized I’d die never having called you my wife.”

Your heart thudded.

“I know I need to clean it all up. Tie off the streets for good. Move smart. But I’m already yours” he said. “Let me make it real.”

You stared at him. Bruised. Shaken. But completely his.

Your voice cracked. “You want to marry me after all this?”

“I want to marry you because of all this” he said. “Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I can’t afford to ever take you for granted again.”

You lunged into his arms again, pulling him close, your lips crashing into his. A kiss that tasted like tears and truth and desperation.

“I want that too” you whispered. “But only if you swear you’re gonna protect us the right way. For real this time.”

“I swear” he breathed against your lips. “No more lies. No more slips. I’m done with that life. You’re the only future I want.”

—

Law wasn’t the same after that night as the months passed.

You noticed it in the small things first—the tension behind his eyes when he kissed you good morning. The way he double-checked every lock, every window, every car parked too long on your street.

But it was more than paranoia.

It was resolve.

It started with phone calls. Quiet meetings. That old duffle bag you used to pretend not to see under the bed replaced with spreadsheets and wire transfers.

“What are you doing?” you asked him one night, watching as he tapped something into his laptop, gold chains low on his bare chest.

He looked up at you, blinking slowly. “Washing.”

You blinked. “Washing?”

“Dirty to clean. I’m done moving weight. I’m investing it now. Quiet shit. Real estate. Trucking. Crypto that ain’t trash.”

You raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“I told you I was done” he said. “That shit almost cost me you. I can’t keep walking like that and expect to keep the crown.”

You walked over and sat on his lap, letting his arms slide around your waist. “It’s gonna be hard.”

“I know.”

“You gonna stay out?”

His eyes darkened slightly, but not in the way that scared you. In the way that said he was thinking about every move like chess.

“I’m getting out smart. That means slow. Quiet. And permanent.”

You nodded, burying your face in his neck.

—

Then came the next part—the one that made it all feel real.

“I want us gone” he told you two days later. “Out of this city. Somewhere they can’t touch you.”

Your heart sank. “But my girls—my whole life is here.”

“I know. I don’t wanna take you from what you love.” He took your hand gently. “But if I don’t take you away from here, it might take you from me.”

You looked into his eyes—and saw it. That fear he never said aloud. The fear of another night where he had to watch you through a phone screen, helpless, as someone tried to take what was his.

“I’ll still bring you back whenever you want” he said softly. “Fly your friends out. Spoil you. Give you everything you dreamed of. But we gotta start over. Just us.”

You swallowed. Nodded.

“Okay.”

—

The day he handed you the Glock again, you flinched.

“I don’t want this” you said, stepping back from the case.

“I know.” He didn’t push it. “But I need you to know it. Just in case.”

“Law…”

He gently took your hands and placed the gun into them. “I never want you to use it. But I want you to know how.”

The training didn’t last long—just enough for you to stop shaking as you held the gun in the range. He kissed your temple every time you hit your mark, held your waist down every time he caught you shaking. His eyes told you it wasn’t about turning you hard—it was about making sure you lived.

You weren’t just his girl anymore.

You were his wife-to-be. Even if there wasn’t a ring—yet.

And he treated you like it.

Princess treatment came in full waves: late-night bubble baths, luxury lingerie laid out for no reason, boxes arriving at your door with things you only mentioned once in passing. Trips out of town. Safe houses you didn’t even know he had.

One night, as you sat curled up in his hoodie, new silk bonnet tied, your feet in his lap, he looked at you over the rim of his glass and said

“Tell me everything you want in a house.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your dream house. Every detail. No filter.”

You raised a brow, but he didn’t budge.

You listed it all—bay windows, walk-in closet, garden tub, light pink tiled bathroom, a kitchen with gold finishes. A backyard with enough space to read under the sun.

He nodded through every word.

Then kissed your ankle and said, “Done.”

“You serious?” you asked, voice soft with disbelief, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “You’re really about to build me a dream house?”

Law didn’t look up from your feet—his thumbs pressing slow, perfect pressure into your arches.

“I said tell me everything you wanted” he murmured. “You think I ain’t been listening all this time?”

You giggled softly. “You never look like you’re listening.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m too busy staring at your pretty ass mouth while you talk.”

You playfully nudged him with your toe. He caught your foot mid-swipe and pulled it forward, pressing a kiss to your ankle.

It was gentle at first. Reverent.

Then his lips lingered. Warm. Intentional.

You stilled.

“Law…”

His eyes met yours. Dark. Focused. A storm behind them, barely restrained.

“You got any idea what it does to me?” he said lowly, his voice husky. “Thinking about waking up to you every day, in that house. Watching you walk around in nothing but my shirt, barefoot in a kitchen you designed.”

Your lips parted as he slid his hands up your calves, slow and firm, spreading warmth and goosebumps in his wake.

“Watching you in our bed, in the sunlight…” His hands reached your thighs now, pulling you closer until your legs bracketed his lap, until he was staring up at you like you were the one who built the world.

“Law…”

He pulled you down gently, letting you straddle him on the couch. His hands never left your body. The way they slid under the oversized tee you were wearing—his, of course—made your breath catch.

“You know I’d give you the world if you asked.”

You rocked your hips against him slightly, and he growled low in his throat, cock twitching under the soft fabric of his sweats.

“Yeah? Then give me you,” you whispered. “Right here.”

His mouth was on yours instantly—desperate, deep, teeth grazing your lower lip as you rolled your hips again, grinding against his growing bulge. He grabbed a fistful of your ass, pushing you down harder.

“Fuck, baby…” he hissed, breaking the kiss, burying his face in your neck. “This how you say thank you?”

You nodded, breathless. “It’s how I say don’t stop.”

“Good, ‘wasn’t gonna”

In one smooth motion, Law pulled his sweats low enough to free his cock—thick, veiny, already leaking for you—and lifted your hips.

“No panties?” he growled, grinning against your throat. “You knew what you were doing.”

You bit your lip and nodded again.

He dragged the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your entrance, both of you moaning softly at the contact.

Then—slowly—he pulled you down onto him.

You gasped as he stretched you, inch by inch, filling you so deep your thighs trembled around his.

“Shit—Law…”

“You take me so good, baby” he groaned, gripping your hips tightly. “Always so fucking tight f’ me.”

You rocked your hips slowly, both of you moaning in sync, your bodies moving like they were made to do this. Like they always did.

His hands slid under your shirt to grab your tits, rough fingers pinching your nipples until you arched into him.

“Love these” he growled. “Love you.”

You leaned forward, pressing kisses along his jaw, whispering the filthiest things in his ear—how good he felt, how badly you needed him to ruin you on this couch. You both were freaked out to the max.

But your thighs started to burn, your rhythm faltering.

He noticed immediately.

“Tired already?” he teased, breathless.

You nodded with a whimper.

He chuckled darkly, hands gripping your waist tight.

“Then let me take over.”

He flipped you onto your back in one swift motion, pressing you into the cushions as he drove his cock back into you, hard and deep.

You cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase as he fucked you slow, then fast, then slow again—each thrust measured, claiming, worshipful and possessive all at once.

“Mine” he grunted. “You hear me?”

“Yours—fuck—always—”

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby?” he growled, thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit. “Soak my dick, just like that.”

“Law—!“ You shattered around him, walls clenching, body jerking beneath his as you moaned his name like a prayer.

He followed soon after, cursing low into your skin, filling you deep as he collapsed against you, breath hot and uneven.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing, the faint buzz of the record spinning somewhere behind you.

Then he kissed your forehead.

“I meant it” he whispered. “The house. The new life. You’re getting all of it.”

You wrapped your arms around him.

“I already got everything I want.”

—

You stood barefoot in the kitchen, the same oversized hoodie hanging off your shoulder, a bowl of ice cream in hand. The sound of your spoon clinking lightly against the ceramic bowl broke the silence, and Law, shirtless, leaned against the counter across from you—still watching you like you were dessert.

“You’re staring” you murmured, licking a bit of vanilla from your lip.

“You’re doing that on purpose..” he said lowly, voice still gravel from earlier.

“I’m just eating?” you teased, sliding the spoon between your lips, letting it linger.

“You really think I was gonna let you eat that and walk away clean?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You shivered under his touch, your voice barely a whisper. “I thought you were tired.”

His fingers dragged downward, slow and heavy, until his grip wrapped firm around your waist. “I was. Until I saw you sucking on that spoon like you forgot what my mouth just did to you an hour ago.”

You let out a soft gasp as he pressed his hips into yours. He was already hard again, the heat of him undeniable through the thin barrier of his sweats and nothing else.

“You’re trouble” he growled.

You leaned back into him, tilting your head. “You like trouble Mr. Convict .”

He spun you, lifting you onto the counter in one smooth motion, the cold marble sending a shock through your thighs. His hands slid up beneath the hoodie, pushing the hem higher, revealing more and more of your bare skin.

“You know what this hoodie means when you wear it, right?” he asked low, eyes locked on yours as his fingers slid along your inner thighs. Turning you back around to face him.

You nodded, breath catching. “Yours.”

His mouth crashed against yours with no hesitation, tongue deep, demanding. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, heels digging into his back, trying to pull him closer, harder.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his voice thick. “You gonna stay quiet, baby? Or you gonna let the whole building know who’s making you feel this good?”

Your fingers tangled in his hair. “The walls aren’t that thin.”

That was all he needed.

He slid the hoodie up your thighs, groaning at the wetness already coating you, his touch purposeful, claiming. He teased you just long enough to make your back arch before aligning himself—hot, hard, and ready—and sliding into you in one slow, deep stroke.

The moan that tore from your throat echoed off the kitchen walls.

He cursed low under his breath. “So fucking tight—like you were waiting for me to do this again.”

his pace picked up, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin competing with your gasps and his name spilling from your lips.

Every thrust was deep and punishing, and yet—somehow—he never lost that control. One hand gripping your hip, the other cradling the back of your head like you were fragile even as he broke you open.

You locked eyes through half-lidded lashes, your voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t stop…”

His jaw clenched, sweat beading on his temple. “Not till you’re cryin mama.”

He shifted your leg higher, changing the angle, and you felt it instantly—how much deeper he could reach, how perfectly he filled you.

Your body responded before your words could. The heat, the tightness, the dizzying pressure—until everything unraveled in white-hot waves. You clung to him, riding it out, gasping against his neck as he followed with a low, guttural moan, hips stilling deep inside you.

He stayed there for a moment—forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathless and trembling, wrapped in the silence of satisfaction.

“We’re really gonna build that new life, you know?”

You smiled, touching your nose to his. “Yeah. One kitchen counter at a time.”

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bradleysass · 2 months ago

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attempt - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 563

James didn’t mean to trespass.

Well. Maybe he meant to. But not like this—not with the blaring siren, the blinking lights, and the automated voice yelling, "INTRUDER DETECTED. AUTHORITIES HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED."

He just wanted to see him. Not break the law.

The alarm finally cut out with a merciful click, and James froze in place on the edge of the perfectly manicured lawn. A second later, the porch light flicked on, casting a warm yellow glow across the lawn like a spotlight on a criminal.

Then there he was.

Regulus Black.

Wearing black silk pajama pants, a robe hanging loose over his shoulders, and a look on his face that could cut through concrete.

"You know," he said, voice sharp and cold in the night air, "attempting to enter my house is against the law, Potter."

James gave a crooked, sheepish smile and shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets like that might make him look less guilty.

“I wasn’t entering. I was standing. On the grass.”

Regulus arched a brow.

“My grass is armed. I have signs. You know this.”

“I forgot,” James muttered, which was a lie. He remembered every inch of this place—had built half the garden beds with Regulus the summer they moved in together. Had picked out those ridiculous lemon-scented solar lights because Regulus claimed moths were “tacky.”

Regulus sighed, stepping forward onto the porch but not down the steps.

“What do you want, James?”

There it was. No softness. Just James. Like they were back to being strangers.

James swallowed hard. “I—couldn’t sleep. And I kept thinking about… about that night in June. The one with the thunderstorm, when we lost power and just laid on the kitchen floor and talked until morning.”

Regulus’ expression flickered, but he didn’t speak.

“I miss you,” James continued, quieter now, his voice catching slightly. “I know I shouldn’t say that. I know I was the one who left. But I can’t sleep in our bed without you, Reg.”

Regulus stayed quiet a moment longer, then crossed his arms. “There’s no our anymore.”

James flinched. “I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because…” James took a shaky breath. “Because I didn’t know how else to remember what it felt like to be near you without it hurting so damn much.”

A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the buzz of the porch light and the far-off hum of late-night traffic.

Regulus exhaled, slow and deliberate. “You’re lucky I didn’t have the system programmed to fire warning shots.”

James chuckled weakly. “Would’ve been worth it.”

“Idiot.”

“Yours, once.”

Regulus looked away, jaw tight, and James took a step forward—just one. He didn’t want to push. Just be closer.

“Can I just… talk to you?” James asked, voice gentler than it had been in weeks. “Not to fix anything. Just… talk.”

Regulus studied him carefully, then slowly descended the steps.

“Stay off the grass.”

James blinked. “You’re serious?”

Regulus gave him a look. “You triggered the alarms, woke me up, and possibly alerted half the neighbourhood.”

“Okay, okay,” James said quickly, holding up his hands. “I’ll walk on the path like a respectable ex-boyfriend.”

Regulus turned away, the edge of his robe fluttering with the motion. “Ten minutes. Then you leave.”

James followed behind, smiling despite himself.

Ten minutes.

He could live off that for weeks.

#marauders #jeggyverse microfic #jegulus #sunchaser #starseeker #james potter #regulus black #microfic

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sassatoru · 1 year ago

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GHOST OR BAT?

pairing. batfam + ghostmaker x ghostbat!reader

summary. reader is a dna mix of ghostmaker and batman.

warnings. ghostbat drama, Minhkhoa Khan, I’m confused, cursing, canon typical violence.

a/n. I am bored out of my mind, might become a mini series. That I just randomly add stuff to. The mask referred to is kinda like Jason’s from red hood and the outlaw just minus the eye cover.

wc. 0.8k (not proofread)

You kept to your spot beside Talia, staying alert to the people in front of you. Batman and his children, plus Ghostmaker. You remembered reading up on each of them, studying all of them.

You eyes were focused on the oldest of the Batkids, Dick Grayson. He’d be your biggest problem, the man was severely underestimated but in Talia’s eyes he’d be the most capable assassin if he wanted to.

Cassandra Cain, you knew her. You fought her, you looked different then though, and by her stance you assumed she hadn’t connected the dots but she remained watching you.

Jason Todd, you helped train him. Never with your mask off, and you never spoke. Only ever instructed to fight him till he learnt.

Tim Drake. Held in high regard among the league, with smarts to match that of Batman’s. But not much of a problem, you’d have no problem with him.

Your eyes glided over to the youngest of the bunch, Damian. You’d die before letting your blade touch him, and he’d hesitate before raising his against you. He didn’t know you truely, you didn’t even know yourself truely. But he knew you’ve protected him.

Behind your mask you glared at the tallest two in the room. But your hands kept the same elegant hold on your swords, like Talia taught you.

Batman, Bruce Wayne. The world’s greatest detective. Truthfully you’ve always wanted to fight him, see how long you’d last, see if you could take him down. But that wasn’t going to happen unless he attacked, and he wouldn’t. He was smarter than that.

You glanced at the man in white, face masked so his expression remained covered. Minhkhoa Khan, the Ghostmaker. Not much was known about him, but the League of Assassins or anyone for that matter. He’d be the most unpredictable, you think.

“Mother,” Damian addressed the woman beside you. You remained stationary as she walked towards her son, brow raised in slight alarm as you stepped closer hesitantly, watching the others.

Damian moved through the crowd of his siblings to step before his mother, they greeted before he nodded to you, acknowledging your presence.

“Dear,” Talia called to you, she’d never used your name, saying that it was your secret to reveal so she only ever called you ‘dear’.

“You may speak,” she sighed softly, a strange softness in her voice. But you ignored it and nodded in response, she turned to the crowd of vigilantes.

“I suggest your other children leave,” Talia says. “The matter I’ve come to discuss is… personal. In a sense.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at the assassin woman before nodding, earning a groan from each of his children, who begrudgingly walked away towards the stairs that lead back to the manor.

“Damian stay,” Talia ordered, the boy halted his movements and stepped to his father’s side.

Now the room remained with five people in it. Ghostmaker, Batman, Damian, Talia and you.

“I have some rather—“

“Disturbing,” you offered, voice distorted due to your mask. Khoa raised a brow at the robotic voice, good way to keep yourself hidden.

“Yes,” she nodded. “This child,” she motioned to you. “Happens to be a mix of the two of you.” She then motioned to Bruce and Khoa. Both of whom stared at you in response.

“Disturbing, all right.” Khoa murmured to himself, watching you, analysing you. Though he couldn’t be too surprised, considering Damian Wayne.

Bruce glared at you, “you’re lying.”

“I wish,” you scoffed, glaring back at him. Your eyes shadowed by your hood, and voice distorted by the mask that only covered the lower half of your face.

—

The three of you stood in silence after Damian and Talia left the room, neither of you looking at each other.

“You’re sick,” Bruce mutters, glaring at Talia before pointing at you.

“The child is a wonder of science, if anything i did you both a favour.” Talia shrugs, Bruce raising a brow in response.

“Enlighten me.”

“Think, a child with both your skills. The perfect weapon,” Talia replies. Khoa nods slightly, thinking it through, the perfect weapon.

“So, how many kills, kid?” Khoa speaks up, causing you to shift your gaze to Talia who nods.

“I don’t count them, they’re insignificant to me.” You mutter, detached, Bruce thinks, just like Khoa.

The Ghostmaker nods in understanding, as if he were impressed with the answer. “Smart girl.”

“Why did you come here? I doubt you were doing anyone a favour by exposing your secret.” Bruce asks Talia.

“I need you to look after her, i will be gone for a while. And i don’t trust my father with her, and i don’t trust her not to try and kill him again. She’ll be here also to watch over Damian.”

“Why?” Bruce presses, and Talia doesn’t bother answering as she’s already gone

All eyes turn to you, watching you as intently as you watched each of them. Now what?

#batsis #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #enzo writes [📝]#ghostbat #minhkhoa khan #minhkhoa khan x daughter!reader #ghostbat!reader #ghostmaker x reader

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padmesweetheart · 3 months ago

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Ring Camera Chronicles: Volume III & IV

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Young Wife!Reader

Genre: Humor, Domestic Comedy, Neighborhood Shenanigans, Soft Fluff

Word Count: ~3,100

3-4/5 of the Hayden Vs Ring Camera

Volume III: “The Presentation”

You hadn’t planned to share the videos with the neighborhood.

Not at first.

But then the HOA president, Beverly—who wore sun hats big enough to orbit the earth—called an “urgent community safety meeting” to address porch hazards, citing an “increased number of incidents.”

Hayden had gone pale when you read the email aloud.

“Oh no,” he muttered, clutching a heating pad to his lower back. “She knows.”

“She knows,” you confirmed solemnly.

The community center was filled with the usual suspects: Beverly with her clipboard, Greg from three doors down who always mowed his lawn at 6 a.m. sharp, the couple with matching fleece vests, and sweet old Mrs. Kline who always brought weird mints no one liked.

Hayden sat stiffly beside you, sunglasses indoors, hoodie up, as if trying to avoid being recognized like some kind of fallen celebrity.

Beverly cleared her throat dramatically at the front of the room.

“Neighbors,” she said, “we’ve had two… high-impact incidents caught on Ring footage this month. Both involving the same porch. Same individual.”

You elbowed Hayden lightly. “That’s you.”

“I gathered that, thanks.”

Then—without warning—Beverly clicked her remote, and the projector lit up with the title slide:

“Porch Safety Awareness: A Real-Life Cautionary Tale.”

Hayden physically sank into his chair.

And then… the videos played.

First, The Fall: him slipping on the porch with all the grace of a cartoon character. A few gasps. One stifled laugh. Someone whispered, “Is that the guy from Star Wars?”

Then—The Ramp Launch: broomstick and all like Harry Potter.

The room lost it.

Greg choked on a cough drop. Mrs. Kline shouted, “OH MY STARS!” and Beverly… Beverly actually smiled for the first time in 20 years.

When the video ended, she turned to face the crowd.

“Let this be a lesson. Morning dew is no joke. And neither is reckless broom use.”

Hayden muttered into your ear, “I feel like I just got roasted at a PTA meeting by a coven.”

You patted his thigh. “Next time, wear elbow pads.”

———————-

Volume IV: “You Think You’re Slick”

The humiliation of the HOA screening lit a fire under Hayden.

He became obsessed with outsmarting the Ring camera. Like a man on a mission. Like someone in a spy movie. Like he was being hunted.

Which… to be fair, he kind of was. By you. And your beautiful collection of footage.

First, he tried sneaking out the back door.

Didn’t work. The back door had a camera too

Then he tried crawling. Crawling, Hayden. Like a six-foot ghost in a hoodie, army-crawling across the porch to avoid detection. You caught the whole thing—complete with his butt sticking up halfway through.

Then tried he taped a cardboard square over the Ring lens.

And replaced the porch mat with a handwritten note:

“Nothing to see here. Porch is boring now. Love, Not Hayden.”

You nearly cried laughing.

So you upped the stakes.

One day, while he was off feeding Harold (aka his arch-nemesis), you swapped out the Ring chime sound on your phone for a custom audio alert.

That afternoon, as you watched him tiptoe up the porch in a completely unnecessary trench coat and sunglasses combo, the camera sent a notification:

Motion Detected: Front Porch.

Your phone went:

“DUN DUNNN. THE DIGNITY DESTROYER STRIKES AGAIN.”

He froze. Looked straight into the lens like it personally betrayed him.

Then you got a text:

Hayden:

You’re diabolical.

I want a divorce.

(But only after you kiss me goodnight.)

That night, you found him curled up on the couch, hoodie on, arms crossed, pouting like a kid who lost at Mario Kart.

“You mad at me?” you asked, flopping down beside him.

He glared. “You gave the camera a nickname.”

You smirked. “Dignity Destroyer fits.”

He didn’t respond—just leaned over dramatically and put his head in your lap like he was in mourning.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “You know I only mess with you because I love you, right?”

He huffed. “You love ruining my career as a porch ninja.”

“I do.” You kissed his forehead. “But I love you more.”

Hayden closed his eyes, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “…You gonna post that army crawl video?”

You paused. “Depends. What’s it worth to you?”

He looked up at you with mock betrayal. “You are the villain in our marriage.”

“You broke a broom trying to fly off the stairs, Hayden.”

He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “I was trying to live.”

You laughed so hard you snorted.

@skyguytoast @dessxoxsworld @endairachristensen26 @bxbyysstuff

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagines #hayden christensen drabble #hayden christensen x reader #Hayden vs Ring Camera series 📸#hc imagines

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witchygagirlwrites · 4 months ago

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No Leftovers

Jay Halstead x Voight Daughter Reader (Nicknamed Little Bird/Birdie)

You make a move back home to Chicago and face your past. Along with it you meet your dad and Erin's unit which includes Jay Halstead. He pursues you but you are tired of coming in second to Erin.

Warnings: Erin is not the usual sweetheart and Voight has issues with his daughter

“So, I need some help” you knew as soon as you called Justin and said those words your brother would be on high alert. “What’s wrong Birdie?” you laughed lightly “Not like that Justin. I got a new job”

You heard him audibly sigh a breath of relief “Lead with that. Had me wondering how me and Al are gonna make it to Boston in enough time to cover up whatever happened” you laughed lightly “Well it’s good news because I get to see you more regularly but unfortunately it also means I’m going to have to be working with dad and Erin” he sucked in air between his teeth “Shit, little sister. You’re the new A.D.A they hired?” “That’d be me. I need a place so think you could help me out?” he chuckled “I’m guessing you don’t want dad to know?”

When you answered with silence he laughed again “Ok then, I’ll call a few people. How are we doing this?” You looked around your apartment “The idea is that if you can find a place, I’ll just ship my stuff and if need be I can send you some money to help pay movers or something unbox” “You send your stuff, I’ll get the place set up. I’ll call you in a day or two” he told you and you smiled, you knew you could rely on Justin. “Thank you” “I got you baby sis” he replied before you told each other goodbye and hung up.

You sat down on the couch and looked around. You liked Boston, you really did but damn you missed Justin. You never got to visit your mom’s grave. You hadn’t seen Al and his family in years. Trudy had gotten married and you’d simply been able to send a gift.

The pay was more in Chicago, the benefits were better and you got to be home. The only fall back was you had to work with your dad and his golden girl. You refused to let those two keep you away from Chicago and your brother any longer.

“I’ll be fine Justin” you were trying to convince him that you would be ok. He’d managed to not only find you a decent place in a decent neighborhood, within your price range but he’d set it up himself to have it ready for you and had kept you a secret for the last two weeks while you ran around signing off on your paperwork with the district’s attorney office and just getting adjusted to being home.

You didn’t need him to take the day off his job to hold your hand on your first day. Just because the D.A. decided to throw you to the wolves from the word go. You parked in front of the twenty-first precinct, grabbed your briefcase and climbed out of your suv and headed for the door. You squared your shoulders as you opened the door, fuck your dad or Erin. This was your job.

________________________

The moment you stepped in you heard Trudy’s voice “Oh my god. Birdie?” she was around the desk and pulling you into a hug before you knew it. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing at least one friendly face from the start. “Hey Trudy. Did you get my wedding gift?” she nodded “Thank you so much for the tickets to the bahamas. We had an amazing time” you shrugged “Least I could since I couldn’t make it back”

“I’ve missed seeing you” she told you once she let you go and you motioned with your briefcase “Well good news. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’m here because I’m the new A.D.A. I was assigned the most recent case intelligence worked so I need to speak with a detective Halstead” she nodded “Come on, I’ll walk you up”

______________________

You followed her up the stairs and she stopped at the palm scanner then held the gate for you once it popped. “I wish you wouldn’t have stayed gone so long” you shrugged “I never meant to, just things happened” “I know sweetie” she replied as the two of you made it to the top of the stairs and damn near every set of eyes landed on you.

“Who are you?” one man asked and you had to admit he was good looking, probably older than you with tattoos sticking out of the sleeve of his shirt. You were about to introduce yourself when Al stepped around the corner “Little bird!” and quickly made it across the floor to pull you into his arms.

The commotion of someone new must have summoned everyone because two more men stepped out of the break room then your dad and Erin stepped out of his office. You felt yourself stiffen your spine immediately. “Birdie, what are you doing here?” he asked and you laughed lightly “Hey to you too dad”

“Dad?” all four men and the other woman who’d just come up the stairs behind Trudy echoed. You cut your eyes around the room and held your arms out “Surprise. Also I’m your new A.D.A.”

“You’re the new A.D.A.?” Erin asked and you cut your eyes at her “Yeah Lindsay. Why?” she shrugged “Just curious” you didn’t want to rise to the bait. “They sought me out and offered me twice my salary in Boston. Was worth it” you turned back to your dad “I’ve been assigned your most recent case. I need to prep your detective before court is the only reason I am here. The sooner I can do that, the sooner I can leave”

He held your eyes for just a second before nodding and waving one of the men over. When he got to you he smiled slightly and offered his hand “Jay Halstead ma’am” you nodded “Just A.D.A. Voight is good” he was handsome. Six foot, seafoam blue eyes and a smile to die for but you’d heard the name from Justin. This was your dad’s pick to take over the unit one day. “Want to speak in the break room. It will only take about fifteen minutes then you can get on with your day” he nodded “Of course” and waved a hand towards the break room.

When you started to walk away your dad called your name and you cut your eyes back “I’m at work sergeant. I’ll call you later” he nodded so you walked into the break room, pulling the file you needed from your briefcase and sat across from Jay.

______________________

You ran through the line of questioning you would do, the probable line of questioning the defense would take and made sure Jay was ready for any angle. When you were certain he was you stood, tucking everything into your briefcase. “I’ll see you in court” he watched you stand “I never knew Voight had a daughter” you scoffed “Not a biological one anyways?” he looked over his shoulder to where Erin had just walked past the open door. “Yeah”

You shrugged “We drifted after my mom got sick. Then when she died, it was only worse. Anyway, I’ll see you in court detective. Wear a suit and keep the temper I’ve heard about in check and we should be fine” “Yes ma’am. Was nice meeting you Y/N”

You walked out of the break room and nodded to Kim, Adam, Kevin and Antonio in turn “It was nice to meet you all” then headed for the steps. Not looking back when you heard your dad’s office door open. You’d spent years begging for scraps of affection from that man after your mom’s passing. You were done. Justin had one too many yelling matches with him on your behalf. He had his golden girl, the detective. You were just you.

You walked down the steps and smiled at Trudy “I’m back in town so we need to get together soon” she nodded “I’d love that” you gave her your number then headed back outside. You would be glad to get back to the office.

You laughed at Justin’s face. His girlfriend Olive had made dinner and it was really good but bless your brother when he’d attempted to add salt he’d not checked to make sure the lid of the shaker was secure so now his plate was effectively ruined. “You want the rest of mine?” you offered and Olive shook her head with a laugh “There’s more Birdie. I’ll get him more” he looked at her “I’ll get it. You and Birdie talk”

He’d wanted you and her to get to know each other better. You’d solely spent time with the two of them since coming back home anyways. Justin was the only person in your corner and Olive didn’t know the same people you did so there was no chance of her accidentally busting you out.

“Have you talked to Hank anymore?” she asked and you grimaced “Beyond the phone call to ask why I didn’t let him know I was moving back? No. I have court tomorrow though with one of his detectives to close a case” Justin walked back into the room and sat down next to you “How did Erin treat you?” you cut your eyes at him and he grinned slightly “That good huh?” you laughed “Sibling rivalry? I guess. I don’t mean to feel how I do but damn I am his daughter not her” Justin nodded “I know but that’s on him. You’re amazing birdie. If dad can’t see what type of woman you’ve become don’t let that affect you. I’m proud of you and mom would be” you smiled at him “Thank you Justin” he nodded “Now eat” you rolled your eyes “Yes big brother” and that made Olive laugh.

Jay normally hated being on the witness stand but with you as the A.D.A.? He was mesmerized watching you work. You owned the courtroom. He’d never seen anything like it. You had the defense attorney floundering and when you questioned him he found himself biting the urge to follow your steps with his eyes as you walked. Where the hell had you practiced law before now?

Once the questioning was handed over to the defense attorney he watched you play with a pencil and knew when you grinned and called an objection that the defense had stumbled themselves even before the judge called a sustained

The final conviction came down and you’d gotten the highest for the perp. He’d killed two women in the process of trafficking victims. He would never see the light of day as a free man again.

Somehow you’d gotten talked into going out to a bar called Mollys. Apparently a couple of the firefighters from Fifty one owned it. Good enough for you. You were sitting by yourself at the bar when Jay walked up next to you “Can I sit A.D.A. Voight?” you rolled your eyes “Everyone calls me Birdie, Jay” he grinned “Birdie”

He sat down and looked at you “You were amazing in court yesterday” you nodded “Working in Boston will do that to you. That’s a huge circuit” he shrugged “Still, I have to admit that was the first time I didn’t hate being in court. You’re something to watch”

You raised an eyebrow “Jay are you trying to compliment me?” he nodded “I am actually” you laughed “Thank you I guess?” he grinned “Plus you’re the prettiest D.A. that I’ve ever been questioned by” you shook your head “and you work for my dad” he shrugged “Not working right now. Let me buy you a beer”

“Ok” you agreed and he smiled “Ok” and waved Herrman over to order two beers.

______________________

You were talking to Jay for the better part of two hours. You had to admit he wasn’t just a pretty face. He seemed like a decent guy too. He was sweet and easy to talk to. “So, is there any way I can get your number?” he asked and you shrugged “Why not”

You’d just gotten through giving him your number when Justin sat down on your other side, death glaring at Jay “Foster sister wasn’t enough? You had to go for Birdie too?”

@desimarie12

You looked from Justin to Jay. “What’s he mean?” Justin nodded at Jay “Loverboy didn’t tell you? Him and Erin were a thing” your head swung around towards Jay “What?” he cut his eyes towards Justin “Like two years ago!” you shook your head and stood up “Take me home Justin” and looked back at Jay “I spent my childhood getting Erin’s hand me downs, I don’t need or want anymore. Forget I gave you my damn number” and stormed out.

Friends?

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead angst #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #one chicago fanfic

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niqhtlord01 · 2 months ago

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Humans are weird: Technomancer

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Would someone like to explain to my three wives why the in the nine hells I was called in on my one day off?”

Chief Detective Fargra Mcuff looked around the bullpen at the gathered detectives and low level robotic magistrates running about. The magistrates were only programmed to deliver pressing dispatches or carry in suspects for interrogation, and the detectives were smart enough to avoid the Chief Detective when he was on the war path and quickly dispersed or made themselves scarce.

“Aster!” the chief shouted at the nearest detective that was too slow to vanish into the background. With no other avenue of escape they sighed and shuffled over to Fargra.

“Sorry, sir, but it seems we grabbed ourselves a big fish.”

“Explain.”

Aster motioned for the Chief to follow and the pair started navigating through the bullpen.

“Last night we had someone walk through a security checkpoint at the orbital dock.”

“Is that meant to surprise me?” Fargra grunted as he squeezed between two magistrate units. “Literally thousands of passengers pass through the docks daily.”

“No sir,” Aster continued, “I mean they literally walked through the security checkpoint.”

“I don’t follow.”

The pair stopped just outside of interrogation room B7. Aster ran his hand through his head tendrils as he gathered himself.

“They walked through the security checkpoint without going through any of the security scanners or restricted materials detectors.” He tapped on the door behind him leading into the room. “Security doors opened wide for this guy and he strode right through as if they owned the place. The only reason we have them is because there was a technician on site doing repair work who quickly alerted the rest of the dock about the breach.”

His interest piqued, Fargra nodded at the door and Aster opened it.

Interrogation room B7 was divided into two parts, a standard holding area where the subject was chained to a metal table and chair, and the observation area that overlooked the holding area via a one-way glass panel. The door the pair just entered through led straight into the observation area and Fargra got his first good look at the suspect.

He was surprised to say the least when the subject was wearing a bright blue hoodie and orange pants. The suspect was chained up facing the panel and Fargra could see that they were in fact human, which explained the outlandish attire.

“How did that walking atrocity of fashion walk through one of the most secure locations on the planet?” Fargra asked as he walked over to the window for a better look. “With a getup like that half the security cameras in that place should have marked them for a crime against style.”

Aster shrugged. “Here’s where it gets even crazier sir, they didn’t appear on any of the cameras.”

“What, like they knew where they were and walked around them?” Fargra asked.

“By eye witness accounts they walked straight down the main causeway like the rest of the crowd, but when reviewing the camera feeds for both the automated security and camera units they don’t appear at all.”

Aster leaned up against the panel of glass and joined the Chief observing the suspect. “Wherever they went it was like they just got erased from the picture and a blank space was plastered over it.”

With the mystery deepening the Chief realized why they had called him in. Someone who could so brazenly walk past their most advanced security systems without being seen was on par with a national security risk. Hell, there was no telling if they were acting alone or smuggling something or someone else along with them on to the planet which opened a whole new can of crumbrum problems.

“We got an ID on our mystery guest yet?”

“Aside from their species we got nothing on them.” Aster motioned over to a nearby table with a strange variety of items strewn across it.

“These were their possessions at the time of the arrest. No ID, galactic passport, not even a citizen registration chip embedded into their body.”

“And yet somehow they were able to board a trans-system flight.” Fargra finished for his detective as he examined the items. The mystery was now turning into his most perplexing with this new information.

Travel between systems was largely allowed by all species, but still heavily monitored and regulated. No one could leave their home system without some form of identification to resolve transportation disputes or cultural differences that might spark interplanetary disputes. Yet here was someone with nothing, which means that wherever they came from they had also bypassed security on that end as well.

He looked up from the belongings to look back at the human and saw that their mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear anything.

“Do we have audio for the room?”

Aster nodded. “It’s been playing and recording since they were brought in.”

He nodded at the suspect. “Then why can’t I hear what they’re saying?”

Aster turned to follow the Chief’s gaze and was surprised as well.

“Guess they got nothing to say out loud.”

Fargra watched the human silently mouthing away and a thought occurred to him.

“Have the station AI monitor the feed to the room and initialize the lip reading program, then have it transcribe everything they are mouthing.”

Aster nodded in agreement and went over to a nearby wall. He tapped a panel and a small keyboard appeared with which he entered in the new parameters for the room.

While that was going on Fargar took another look at the effects. His scaled hands sifted through a small bag removing nothing of notice. A dated magazine from an orbital shop, a packet of generic chewing candy, a tube of teeth cleaner; and then something that did catch his eye.

A golden watch; or at least what he thought was one. Physical time tracking constructs were a purely human instrument and he had never seen one before aside from pictures.

He flipped the small device in his hand and by accident hit a release latch. The front panel of the device popped open revealing the innards of the watch along with a strange delicately carved symbol; a large cogwheel with a lightning but crossing atop it.

The symbol meant nothing to him but pulled out his communicator to reach out to a contact that might know it.

“Fargar you handsome sack of shit, how are you?”

The formality of the insult made Aster stifle a snort as Fargar held his communicator closer.

“Doing well, though knowing what a sorry sack of flesh you are I won’t bother asking about your current standing.” Fargar retorted.

The voice laughed back. “So, what can your friendly human relations officer Samson do for you?”

“I’ve got a strange one for you.” Fargar began. “We just caught a human with no ID walking through a security checkpoint.”

He hefted the watch again. “The only identifying thing we got on them was a gold watch with a symbol of a cogwheel and a lightning bolt; does that ring any bells?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.” Samson replied. “It doesn’t match with the latest criminal identifiers we have on file; let me do a quick search.”

There was a pause while his human contact opened up a data search with the description he was given. Several minutes passed before Samson’s voice finally returned.

“Listen to me,” they spoke with an oddly serious tone, “I need you to be absolutely sure that the symbol you just told me is what you actually saw.”

“I’m looking at the damn thing right now.” Fargar replied confused as Aster returned to join him at the viewing window. “It’s carved into the inside of this gold watch that was on their person.”

A long pause separated the two as Fargar speaking with someone quietly on their end in a frantic hushed manner.

“Terran peace keeping forces have been requested and should be at your location within three hours.” Samson responded. “It is imperative that you keep that suspect under lock and key until they arrive. Sedate them if you have to but do not let them leave or interact with technology under any circumstances.”

“What’s this about?”

“I don’t have all the details but running that symbol alone just set off a high level security lockdown on my terminal followed by a direct call from Terran Internal Security.”

“TIS?”

Fargar had never interacted with the human security but had heard the rumors. They handled things quietly and internally without much fuss, and if they were up in arms about this mystery human they weren’t to be taken lightly.

“They’re called the “Technomancer”, and can access any tech they get their hands on.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got them locked in an interrogation room under observation.”

“Good,” Samson sounded much calmer, “just keep them there without any interaction with technology.”

“I mean,” Aster spoke up, “we do have the AI monitoring them right now.”

“Why? Have they said anything?”

“No, but they have been mouthing something.” Fargar spoke up, shooting Aster a glare to be quiet.

Just then the wall panel began chiming and a data fee began displaying.

“In fact it just finished transcribing what they’ve been mouthing.”

He leaned over and quickly read the details, but none of it made sense.

“def login(): Authorization override while (flag-0)…”

Fargar kept reading it out loud but stopped after three more lines of gobblygook.

“It doesn’t make any-“

“SHUT THEM UP NOW!” Samson all but shouted into the communicator.

The pair of detectives turned back to the panel and saw the human suspect now looking directly at them before the lights went out. ----------------------------

“Greetings, new chief inspector.” The automate AI voice drone inside the holding area. “How may I assist you?”

“Reclassify all organic beings, excluding myself, inside this station as violent offenders.” The human spoke softly. “Detention parameters overruled for all magistrate units, lethal force authorized for continued preservation of peace.”

“Understood.” the AI’s voice chimed.

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

From outside the interrogation room Fargar could hear the sounds of screams. Aster drew their sidearm and quickly exited the room only to have a waiting Magistrate robot’s fist crash into their head.

Bits of bone and flesh showered the Chief Detective as Aster’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor as the machine entered the room. Fargar was faster on the draw and his weapon was in his hand before Aster’s body had even hit the ground.

Three electro rounds penetrated the robots body and the machine sparked violently before collapsing to the ground.

From outside the room Fargar could see the bright flashes of weapons fire as his detectives now fought for their lives against the previously peaceful Magistrate robots who now seemed hell-bent on eviscerating them.

It was code…

The final pieces came together as he let his weapon recharge.

The human had been reading out a sequence command as if they were typing it in at a terminal and when read by the AI unit gave them direct access to their systems when it finished. They had just taken control over the entire station and their pale ass was still chained to a table!

#humans are weird #humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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chvoswxtch · 8 months ago

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part four: the massacre

[series masterlist] | [previous part] | [part five]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: your security has been increased, but are you really safe?

warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse, graphic violence & gore (this is a slasher people)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: I told y'all this was gonna get real insane real fast. the kill count is upped this chapter, as is the intensity. I want to reiterate that this is a slasher. if gore is not your thing, or even reading about it makes you squeamish, this is your final warning before you get into this part. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

A few days had gone by since Billy had installed the cameras. The detectives still had no updates about the case. You hadn’t received any more phone calls, but that didn’t ease your nerves. If anything, it made you more on edge. It felt like you were stuck in a purgatory of waiting, wondering what the next nightmare would be. Roman had never been the type to give up or let anything go. He enjoyed toying with you and fucking with your head. You didn’t know where he was, but you knew he was watching, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you turned off your computer and stood up from your desk. It was a little past five-thirty, and the sun would be going down soon. Grabbing your long black wool coat off the hook next to your office door, you slipped it on and tied the belt around your waist. The last few days you’d essentially been on autopilot, just going through the day to day motions, immersing yourself in any distraction you could find.

After slipping a thick manuscript into your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and flipped the switch to turn off the lights in your office, shutting the door quietly behind you. When you took a step forward, you abruptly paused, noticing that John’s door at the end of the hall was closed and the lights were off. He hadn’t been in the office in two days. It wasn’t like him to just disappear without saying anything, but his assistant had said something about a last minute business trip.

Pushing through the revolving glass door, the brisk chill of autumn air nipped at your face, and the sharp contrast in temperature compared to your warm office made you instantly more alert. The second you stepped out onto the sidewalk, an older man that you’d come to be familiar with got out of an all black SUV that was parked right in front of the publishing house. He came around to open the back passenger door for you, walking with a faint limp. He was dressed casually as usual, but you caught sight of the holster on his hip beneath the brown jacket.

Billy had insisted on making sure you had an escort to and from work, and even though you still felt guilty he was doing all of these things for you without letting you give him anything in return, you couldn’t refuse the peace of mind.

Walking towards the open car door, you looked up into his kind brown eyes with a soft grateful smile.

“Thanks, Dwight.”

He gave you a faint nod in return, a friendly smile stretching across his lips. Despite the streaks of gray in his dark brown hair, and the salt and pepper beard, he looked younger and less weary when he smiled. You could almost see a hint of the boyish charm he must have had in his youth.

“Of course, ma’am.”

»»———　　———««

After being dropped off in front of your apartment building, you quickly made your way inside. The golden hour had already dipped beneath the Manhattan skyline, and with the darkness of night came a crisp wind that prickled your exposed skin as the temperature dropped along with the sun.

The elevator ride up to your floor felt like it lasted an eternity. With each floor it ascended, more and more weariness settled in your bones. From the moment you left your apartment every morning, you felt stuck in a state of hypervigilance. Every sudden noise, every stranger that looked in your direction, every time your phone rang, your brain perceived it all as a new threat. There was so much cortisol pumping through your bloodstream throughout the day that by the time you returned to the sanctuary of your bedroom, you thought your heart might finally give out from the stress and the constant feeling of teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

This was almost worse than the abuse. At least then, you knew what to expect. You got to a point where you could tell when it was coming by the shift in Roman’s tone, the rhythm of his footsteps, even a slight change in his breathing pattern. Even when he caught you off guard with it, you knew the routine. As soon as it was over, he would leave you to pick up the shattered pieces of yourself, and then he’d come back demanding forgiveness with a false promise of change.

But this…this waiting and not knowing…the psychological torment was worse than the physical.

Typing in the code on the keypad of the door, a little succession of beeps sounded before the lock shifted. Stepping through the threshold, you closed the door and locked it behind yourself, setting your keys in the little green bowl on the side table. Untying the belt of your coat and slipping it off your shoulders, the muffled jingle of your phone ringing sounded from the bottom of your bag.

The sound caused an uptick in your heart rate, as it usually did lately, and your stomach dropped like you’d just swiftly plummeted from the highest point on a roller coaster. Slowly slipping your hand into your bag to pull it out, a breath of relief escaped you seeing the caller ID, but then a curious pinch formed between your brows.

John Altieri.

It wasn’t the first time he’d called you outside of work hours. You just hoped this time he hadn’t been drinking. Letting out a deep sigh, you pressed the green button with your thumb and brought the phone to your ear.

“Hey John, can I call you back in the morning? Now isn’t a really good-”

“Scary night, isn’t it? With a killer on the loose and all.”

Immediately you froze. That wasn’t John’s voice. It was the same one you’d heard on the other end of that call that had tipped your world upside down.

“How did you get his phone?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. John’s ties to your life have been severed.”

The color instantly drained from your face, and you reached out to grip onto the edge of the side table to steady yourself. Closing your eyes, your voice was shaky when you finally spoke.

“You’re lying.”

A dark and sinister chuckle sounded from the other end of the line.

“Now why would I lie about that? You saw how knife happy I got with Adam. You think I wouldn’t do the same with a man whose stare always lingered a little too long? Who was always a little too…friendly? C’mon, Cass-”

“That is not my name anymore.”

A rush of anger layered over your fear at the mention of the identity you’d worked so hard to bury. You weren’t that girl anymore. You hadn’t been her in a long time. The person you were now had been born out of necessity, carefully crafted to be everything the other version of you hadn’t been. The sinister voice just chuckled again.

“You can’t run from who you really are. Besides, I did you a favor, and you know it. And now there’s one less person standing in between you and me.”

“You sick, twisted son of-”

“As a matter of fact, there’s three less people standing in between us now. Four, if you count lover boy.”

The taunting tone of the deep voice made your blood run cold, and a furrow of confusion nestled between your brows. If he was insinuating John was dead, then that made two victims, not four.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you alone in the apartment?

Your eyes darted back and forth as your brain tried to process the implication behind that question. When you glanced down at the side table you still had a tight grip on, you noticed that Annie’s keys were in the bowl beneath yours. Turning your head slightly, you saw that Derek’s boots were by the front door.

Slowly, you turned around towards the living room, seeing that it was empty. Annie’s purse was on the coffee table, but there was no sign of her, or Derek. Walking further into the living room quietly, you cautiously stepped around the corner to look into the kitchen, but it was empty too.

“Anyone home?”

Gripping tightly onto the phone in your hand, you grit your teeth as the voice taunted you once again with another dark chuckle. Fury suddenly blazed within you, causing you to snap and grit through your teeth.

“Fuck you.”

Abruptly hanging up on him, you swiftly pressed your thumb on your phone icon, and when the keypad appeared on your screen, you rapidly pressed the nine and the one twice. But before you could hit the green call button, the sound of a door shutting echoed from down the hall. Instantly, your head snapped up. A few seconds of silence went by before you timidly called out.

“Annie? Derek?”

The lack of response from either of them had a shiver of dread cascading down your spine, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The sinister silence caused anxiety to knot in your gut. Hesitantly taking a few steps towards the opening of the hallway, you glanced down towards the end of it, seeing that Annie’s bedroom door was cracked open and the light was on.

That little voice in the back of your head was screaming at you to run and call the police. It could be a trick. Roman could be waiting for you, ready to punish you for running from him, for hiding from him all these years. He’d brutally murdered Adam, and he hadn’t even known him. Whatever he had planned for you, it was going to be way worse.

But what if Annie and Derek were hurt? What if they needed help? What if they were-

Swallowing down your nerves, you let out a shaky breath and cautiously took slow steps down the hall, keeping your footsteps silent. Abruptly you paused, turning your head towards the kitchen. Stealing another glance at Annie’s bedroom door, you quietly took a few steps backwards and took a detour into the kitchen. You silently slipped the largest knife out from the wooden block on the counter and gripped it in your hand. If it was a trap, you weren’t walking into it defenseless.

You could hear your heartbeat starting to pound in your ears as you continued your soundless steps down the hallway. You kept your eyes locked on the cracked door, and your palms became clammy as your hands trembled with fear. Your nostrils flared from how heavy you were breathing, and when you reached the door, you paused for a moment, trying to will the courage to open it.

Reaching out with your shaky hand that still grasped your phone, you pressed your index and middle fingertips against the cold wood, and a slow creak from the worn hinges disrupted the ominous quiet. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was on the other side of the door.

A scream of sheer horror ripped through your lungs, burning through your vocal chords, and your eyes doubled in size in unfiltered shock.

The pale lavender bedspread was stained with dark splotches of deep maroon. The cream colored walls were streaked and splattered with blood like some kind of grisly abstract painting. Annie’s lifeless body was in the middle of the bed, contorted in the fetal position, and a swell of nausea rose in your throat seeing that her stomach had been carved open, leaving her intestines to spill out in a messy pile of pink and red ropes. Streaks of her golden blonde hair had turned bright red, and her clothes were torn and soaked in blood.

Derek’s body was face down on the floor, a dark puddle of crimson surrounding his head. There were several tears and holes in the back of his blood stained gray shirt where he’d been stabbed, patches of his denim jeans drenched into a dark shade of purple, and you could see the jagged flesh where something had pierced right through his left hand. The sheer carnage and brutality of the scene shocked you to your core, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs.

A choked sob caught in your throat as your eyes welled up with thick tears that blurred your vision, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth in absolute repulsion. The depravity of the scene in front of you was so gruesome, it didn’t even look real. It looked more like the set of some gory slasher.

Abruptly the closet door slammed open, the sound of the knob hitting the wall as loud as a crack of thunder, and your eyes snapped up as a tall figure dressed in all black stepped out. A sharp gasp caught in your throat, and your mouth dropped open as terror blew your pupils wide open. The glint of a blade caught in the light as it appeared in the figure’s gloved hand, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the mask covering their face.

The one that had haunted Woodsboro for nearly thirty years.

As soon as they took a step forward, your fight or flight kicked in, and you swiftly spun around and took off running. Racing towards the door, you could hear their heavy boots rapidly thudding against the hardwood, chasing right after you. Running right into the front door, you dropped the knife you’d been holding, your trembling fingers trying desperately to turn the locks, but your hands were sweaty and your fingers kept slipping. Turning your head to look over your shoulder frantically, you screamed when the ghastly figure went to strike, ducking right as the knife embedded into the thick wood of the front door.

When their black gloved hand gripped at your arm, you quickly reached for the green bowl on the side table and smashed it over their head, causing the figure to grunt and let go, staggering backwards. He only faltered for a moment, and then he reached out to grab your arm again, his other hand grabbing your throat to slam you back against the front door, winding you momentarily with a wheeze. Reaching up with your right hand, you blindly grasped at nothing until your fingers slipped over the solid black handle of the hunting knife, tugging at it to try and pull it loose. Releasing one of his hands from around your throat, he reached up to grab the handle before you could pull it out, and you swiftly brought your knee upwards that was right between his legs as hard as you could.

A loud grunt left him as he stumbled back and doubled over slightly. Pulling the drawer completely out of the small table by the front door, you swung and smashed him over the head again, the wood splintering into pieces, causing him to drop to his knees with another noise of pain. Taking advantage of the moment, you ran as fast as you could towards your bedroom, dashing into your bathroom and locking the door. Your lungs were burning and the adrenaline was making your entire body buzz like you had been struck by lightning.

Panic skyrocketed in your bloodstream when a loud banging began to sound against the door, the person on the other side trying to break it down with deep grunts of effort. Frantically glancing around your bathroom, your shaky hands tugged open drawers, feeling a stone of helplessness sinking in your stomach. You had nothing in here to defend yourself with.

A shrill scream ripped through your throat when the knife suddenly pierced through the wood of the door before being ripped out, stabbing through it again and again five more times. Without thinking, you smashed your fist against your bathroom mirror, ignoring the pain of glass splitting through your knuckles. Grabbing the biggest jagged piece that fell into the sink, you gripped it in both hands and stumbled backwards until your back met the wall. Each wave of terror felt like it was pulling you further and further beneath the tide, and you could hardly breathe.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

All at once, the banging stopped, and it went dead silent. Sliding down the wall, a sob bubbled up in your chest, and it burst through the fear and panic in overwhelming streams. This was it. He was going to find something to break the door down with, and you were gonna die. Once again, you were weak, and you were helpless. This time when he tried to kill you, he was going to be successful.

You barely even registered the sound of shouting voices a few minutes later. You’d started to hyperventilate, and you couldn’t hear anything over your own panicked breathing and blood rushing in your ears, not even the sound of a familiar voice calling out your name.

The door burst open all of a sudden, and you screamed as you held the jagged piece of glass so tightly it bit into your palms, holding it out in front of yourself as a weak defense. Billy’s hardened expression softened the second he looked at you, and he swiftly lowered the gun he had grasped in his hands that had been aimed at you.

“Shit.”

A fresh wave of thick tears soaked your cheeks, and your voice cracked in desolate sob.

“He was here. He was here. He-”

Billy abruptly set his gun down on the bathroom counter and crossed over to you in three short strides, kneeling down in front of you.

“Shh shh shh, he’s gone. He’s gone.”

Billy gently pried the glass away from you, and you didn’t even flinch as he pulled it from where it had been deeply embedded in the torn flesh of your palm, causing a stream of blood to flow freely from the wounds. Reaching out to rip the hand towels off the rack, he carefully wrapped each of your hands that were bleeding profusely.

“He killed them, Billy. He killed them-”

Billy pulled your shaking form into his chest, wrapping one of his arms around your back firmly and placing his other hand on the back of your head, tucking it under his chin. He rocked you back and forth gently, carding his fingers through your hair and speaking softly into your ear.

“Shh shh shh, I know. I know, sweetheart. Just take deep breaths for me.”

“He was here-”

“He’s gone, baby. He’s gone, I promise. Just breathe, sweetheart. It’s gonna be alright, just breathe.”

»»———　　———««

While the nurse finished up the final stitch on your right palm, four of Billy’s men were standing in front of him with apprehensive looks on their faces. He’d been primarily focused on getting you to the hospital, but now that you were safe and being treated, his concern for you had turned into pure wrath for his employees.

“What the fuck happened?”

None of his men wanted to meet his furious glare when his angry voice boomed in the hospital room. Even the two police officers standing off to the side flinched at the animosity in his tone. One of Billy’s men cleared his throat before speaking.

“We don’t know sir-”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know? There’s six goddamn cameras in that apartment and not a single second of footage.”

The fourth man lifted his head to speak up.

“He cut the cameras, sir. They were offline.”

The edge of Billy’s lips was curled up into a faint snarl as he snapped his heated glare in the direction of the man who had just spoken.

“And how the fuck did that happen?”

“We’re looking into it sir-”

“Look faster. Go.”

Billy’s men all nodded and mumbled out a ‘yes sir’ when he barked out his orders, shuffling out of the room in a single file line. His hardened stare followed them until they were all out of sight. Once he turned his attention back to you, his sharp features visibly softened. He took a few steps closer towards where you were sitting on the edge of the patient table, placing his hand protectively against the small of your back as he glanced down at the gauze being wrapped around your hands.

“These dissolvable?”

The nurse lifted her head to look at Billy, nodding in confirmation.

“Yeah, they’ll last for a few weeks.”

Billy inhaled sharply with a curt nod, lifting his gaze to look at the older woman.

“And for the pain?”

“We’ll send her home with a prescription.”

When the nurse left you and Billy alone in the room, he stared at you silently for a moment. You hadn’t said a single word in the past hour. He slowly came around to stand in front of you, gently grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb to lift your head. His dark brown eyes searched your face. There was a bleak look in your eyes, and your face was shrouded in despair.

“I’m gonna find him.”

Billy’s voice was firm and unwavering, and the look in his eyes told you he meant it. This was personal for him now. All you could manage was a weak nod. Billy let out a deep exhale through his nose, gently cupping the back of your head as he took a step forward to stand between your legs, hugging you to his chest.

“C’mere. It’s gonna be alright.”

Closing your eyes, you buried your face into Billy’s crisp white dress shirt that had been stained with the blood from your hands. He was the only person you had left in New York now.

A moment later, a knock sounded on the door, and you and Billy both turned your heads as Detectives Craven and Williamson walked in. Detective Craven had a manila folder in his worn hands, and his sympathetic brown eyes washed over you as he let out a weary sigh.

“You okay?”

“I’m not dead.”

The older man faintly winced at the edge to your voice. Rubbing his hand down his face, he let out another deep sigh as he opened the thick folder.

“Is this what you saw?”

When he held the photo up, you bristled and your blood ran cold. It was a crime scene photo from the original case that had shocked the once peaceful town of Woodsboro back in the late 90s. Two teenagers had terrorized the town, commiting a series of brutal murders, all while wearing a costume that had become infamous, and synonymous with the killings. In the crime scene photo was the original bloodied ghostface mask that had been worn by the two men.

The exact same mask you’d seen Roman wearing when he’d attacked you.

Swallowing thickly, you looked away quickly and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Have you contacted Woodsboro PD?”

Billy glanced between the two detectives, his sharp features morphing back into the more stern expression he’d given his men just moments ago.

“That’s privileged information.”

Billy’s dark brown eyes flickered over towards Detective Williamson, and he arched one of his dark brows as he stood up straighter and turned to face him.

“Considerin’ my company is the one protectin’ her since neither of you could be bothered to lift a goddamn finger, I’d say I’m privileged to it.”

Detective Williamson prickled at Billy’s accusation of inaction, firmly crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his icy blue eyes.

“Well thank God for you. I mean, without Anvil, we wouldn’t have a single shred of evidence about what happened in that apartment. We look forward to you sharing that helpful footage with us.”

A muscle feathered beneath Billy’s bearded jaw from the younger detective’s jab about the cameras. Detective Craven shot his partner a warning glare.

“Kevin-”

“With all due respect, Mr. Russo, this is a police investigation. We can’t afford bias or coincidence-“

“Coincidence?”

Billy took a few steps closer, towering over Detective Williamson with a menacing look in his eyes. Detective Craven lept into action, slipping his arm between the two men.

“Guys-”

“You think it’s a fuckin’ coincidence that son of a bitch was wearing the goddamn mask associated with the most notorious murders in her hometown? In his own hometown?”

The older detective pushed at his partner’s chest, forcing him to take a step backwards. Detective Williamson looked at him with incredulity, gesturing towards Billy.

“C’mon Wes-”

“Shut up, Kevin.”

Detective Craven snapped, raising his voice for the first time since you’d met him. His younger partner immediately closed his mouth, clenching his jaw, clearly displeased with being chastised in front of you and Billy. Whether it was due to respect for the older man, or because he knew not to cross him, he stayed silent. Detective Craven turned to look up at Billy, holding his hands up in a placating gesture as he spoke more calmly.

“Mr. Russo, I assure you we are doing everything we can right now. We’ve got three dead bodies, and a missing person. That constitutes being able to skip over the, ‘red fucking tape’, as Miss Y/L/N so accurately described it.”

Detective Craven looked over in your direction, giving you a knowing look, and you could detect the faintest hint of a smile. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but give him a faint one of your own. You knew from that first meeting in the precinct, he’d been trying. It wasn’t his fault he’d been restricted on what he was able to do without any concrete evidence. He’d been on your side from the beginning, and you were grateful for him. His partner, however, could be Roman’s next victim for all you cared.

Detective Craven turned his attention back to Billy with a more serious expression.

“I put out an APB for Roman Walker. Every cop in New York has been sent a photo of that mask. I have several units out looking for him.”

Behind him, Detective Williamson rolled his eyes and let out dry scoff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So we’re looking for a guy in a mask the day before Halloween, in New York City. Great.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes @dumb-fawkin-bitch @merc12-us @moonyinthestars @sweetttart @i-caught-a-pidge @fruityfucker

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#the manhattan murders series #billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x fem!reader #billy russo x f!reader #billy russo fic #billy russo series #ghostface!au #ghostface!au billy russo #ghostface!au billy russo fic #ghostface!au billy russo series

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in1-nutshell · 9 months ago

Note

Hello, how are you? Can I request a Nightlight application in Transformers One? Nightlight works for Sentinel Prime. In this universe, she sympathizes with the lower classes and is dedicated to trying to convince Sentinel Prime to improve things. Nightlight becomes friends with D-16 Orion Pax Eliata One and Bumblebee?

I definitely want to do a longer version of this later in the future. Or possible a part 2, which ever comes first.

Hope you enjoy!

TF1 Version of Nightlight

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TF1

Nightlight considered herself one of the luckier bots in Iacon.

She had a stable job and got to work under most of Sentinel Prime’s direct orders.

Not many bots could say they often talked to the Prime on a daily basis.

He was the bot everyone wanted or wanted to be.

She could only hope the mech that seemed larger than life could get behind her ‘passion project’.

Nightlight straightening her backstruts, puts on her best smile and salutes to the incoming Prime. Nightlight: “Good morning, Sentinel Prime, sir.” Sentinel smiles at the detective. Sentinel: “Nightlight, my friend. How’s my best detective doing today?” Nightlight passing him some data slugs. Nightlight: “The missing archive collection has been found and safely put back in its rightful place, sir. Also the missing bot cases have been solved and filed.” Sentinel: “And the—” Nightlight: “The cargo hold carts are still under repairs and under investigation as we speak.” Sentinel: “Good, good, take the rest of the day off then, you earned it.” Nightlight: “Actually sir, I was wondering if we could talk about the conditions of the miners—” Sentinel puts a servo out motioning her to be quiet. Sentinel: “Nightlight, Nightlight, Nightlight. How many times do we have to go through with this little ‘passion project’ of yours? The miners will get more accommodation when they reach more of the energon goals set. It’s only fair, no?” Nightlight: “But sir, wouldn’t they work better, faster even, if they had better conditions or equipment—” Arachnid suddenly appears on their right. Arachnid: “Sir, it is time to go.” Sentinel gives the detective a ‘sorry’ smile. Sentinel: “Its time for me to leave. Keep up the good work Nightlight!” Nightlight was about to protest when she was cut off by Arachnid staring at her as the pair left the room.

Her project started the day she met a peculiar pair of miners.

She was responding to an alert of an unauthorized miner entering the Archives.

Nightlight watched from afar Darkwing and another guard chasing this one cogless miner bot.

And quite frankly, he was giving the guards a run for their shanix.

She noticed another miner causing a distraction with his cart while the other escaped the guards.

The pair then met up in one of the train stations, probably to go back to work.

It was quite entertaining honestly.

Later, she went back to the Archive’s to see what exactly the miner was looking through.

It surprised her the number of data slugs he had gone through in relation to the Matrix.

One of Cybertron’s biggest mysteries.

She needed more answers.

Eventually, Nightlight got clearance to ‘supervise’ some miners for a shift.

That’s where she met Elita-One

Elita saluting at the taller bot. Elita: “Nightlight ma’am!” Nightlight: “Oh, just Nightlight will do… umm…” Elita still saluting: “Elita-One ma’am—I mean—” Nighlight: “Its all right. Do you mind giving me the tour then?” Elita: “Of course! Follow me!”

While doing the tour, Nightlight was making a mental list of things to improve.

She hadn’t been down in the mines before and already couldn’ imagine working down here for long hours and with rusting equipment.

Out of the corner of her optic, she spotted Darkwing punching two familiar looking miners.

When the tour was down and Elita had to go back to her team, Nightlight slipped into the miner’s medbay.

After scaring some bots, she finally found the two miners.

D-16 and Orion both looked at her in shock and amaze. Orion: “You’re Nightlight!” D-16: “The Nightlight! You solved several cases and foiled several assassinations attempts of several bots, including Sentinel Prime’s!” Nightlight feels a bit flustered by the sudden fan behavior. Nightlight: “Yeah, that’s me. And you two are the sneaky miner’s who snuck into the Archieve’s and got away with it.” Both mech’s suddenly looked frightened. Nightlight: “Relax, I’m not taking you in or punishing you two. It was actually the most entertaining things that happened on my shift in a while.” Orion and D-16’s optics widen. Orion: “You saw all that? But from where? The crowds weren’t that busy and there was no hiding places nearby?” D-16: “Do you have any cloaking technology?” Nightlight: “What? No, and to answer your question, I was simply observing from afar.” Nightlight shows the pair some grappling hooks in her arm plating. Nightlight: “These come in handy when you don’t have a flying alt mode or jetpack nearby.” D-16: “Primus…” Orion: “Wait, wait, if you’re not punishing us, then what are you here for?” Nightlight slips into a grim expression. Nightlight: “I originally came in to ask you about your snooping around for data slugs on the Matrix… instead I just found out today your working conditions and I don’t like it one bit.

Nightlight explained that she would straight to Sentinel himself and talk to him about getting them better working conditions.

Truthfully D-16 and Orion thought this was a lie… but his was Nightlight they were talking about.

Maybe a little bit of faith would help.

Surely enough the miners started to notice some of the older equipment getting replaced with new ones.

They even had an extra hour of sleep and a bit more rations.

This did not satisfy Nightlight though.

She wanted more.

The detective started taking on bigger assignments in order to get on Sentinel’s personal circle.

She might have better luck in getting the miner’s more things that way.

Soon Nightlight started making her way into the mines without authorization.

Something was up, she could feel it.

Not only did she find out that the improvements had halted, but Sentinel was making more and more trips to the surface.

It was enough bells to set her off.

Especially hearing about 10 more sublevels under waste management.

So, Nightlight did the thing she did best, investigate.

Nightlight enters one of the waste trains cargo carts. Suddenly gets her blaster out hearing yelling behind her. The door opens revealing Orion, D-16, Elita and B-127. The detective looks at them in surprise. Nightlight: “What in Primus’s name is going on! Orion! D! Elita! B!” Elita:”Ma’am! I caught these bots trespassing!” D-16: “Wait, how do you know B?” B-127 waves at the detective. B-127: “Hi!” Nightlight: “He gave me some information on the sublevels under waste management. Now someone explain what—” Elita sprints past her. Elita: “Sorry ma’am! I need to turn this train around!” Orion and the others run after her. Nightlight blinks a bit before joining the chase. Nightlight: “This is what you get for making friends who are younger than you Nightlight… always running off… I swear… I need to listen to Ratchet next time I go out without my long-distance com link…” Nightlight starts climbing the trains railing to reach the others. Nightlight: “The one day I don’t bring my extra long grappling hook… I won’t be surprised if I see Alpha Trion at this point…”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #transformers one x reader #transformers one x platonic reader #nightlight #tfone nightlight #tf1

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davinashifts333 · 2 months ago

Text

PICTURE NOT SO PERFECT Part Ocho.

(Rafe Cameron SMAU)

August 6th, 2022, 5:30pm, Socials.

An hour had gone by and Rafe and I had just hung up our daily FaceTime and now knowing where he wanted to go to, I hurriedly set reservations for 4 when my phone dinged as to an alert in the driveway of the cottage. *motion detected in driveway*

"Who the hell?" I turned the light off in my room and grabbed my bat, Rafe was home with Wheeze watching her while she had her slumber party, Sarah and the Pogues were back at the Chateau, who could be here at this hour? It's damn near midnight. I open the app only to see a truck, damage to the front right side, eerily familiar and a figure hop out in dark clothes and a box. They leave the box at the door and hop back in the car, headlights pointing directly forward, stopping me from being able to see the license plates. It was too dark when they drove off to see them too. Could it be the person who drove us off the road? It had to be! Why's my chest so tight? Why can't I breathe? My back hits the wall as I try to steady myself, suddenly feeling lightheaded and out of air, I let my body slide down while reaching for my phone, dialing Cleo or whoever was the last call made.

"Hello? Y/N/N? What's that wheezing sound? Y/N! Are you okay?" Last thing I heard was a banging on the door and the buttons beeping in the rhythm of the code for the door.

NEXT MORNING A cold rag woke me from my sleep, a familiar smell pulling me awake. Sarah, Cleo and Kie. How are they all here? And suddenly I hear a cup drop, sitting up rather quickly, the girls panic to get me settled.

"Hey, hey, hey! You're okay! We got your call last night, I was half asleep but you were wheezing and John B drove us over. Pope and JJ got here this morning, had to keep the chateau guarded. What happened? We same the camera footage pulled up on your phone after the call, a box with black tape at the front door and tire tracks, I thought Rafe's truck was totaled?" I nod listening to Kie speak.

"It is but, I don't know. I got a notification on my security system saying there was movement in the driveway and I knew it wasn't Rafe, he was taking care of Wheeze and her slumber party and we had just hung up from FaceTime. Did you see the truck? They parked with their headlights facing the camera, they had to have known I had them. But, I saw the damage on the front right side of it too. I panicked and shut the lights off and grabbed my bat. No knock, no anything, they just left the box and were dressed in dark clothes. I guess I had a panic attack, I don't know." I sigh, a sense of uneasiness falling over me as they all looked around at each other then Sarah grabbed my hand.

'Try to expose me? And you're next. FLIP ME.' on the back, a picture of Sofia's face, bruised and bloody.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected 54

Warnings: non/dubcon, child endangerment, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, Andy is nasty in this, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Days pass. Weeks, maybe. There is no dawn or dusk to track the time. You are trapped in this basement, just you and Luna against the monster who took you.

Your only defense is to placate. You keep Andy happy so you can take care of your daughter. You don’t argue with his demands, you don’t push him away as he touches you, you don’t even cry when he fucks you any more. You just close your eyes and let him do what he wants. When you think about it, it’s not too much different than before.

There is no light at the end of this tunnel. If you were to get out of here, your haven is just another prison. Lloyd is only a warden with a different set of rules. For you it doesn’t matter but for Luna, she deserves better than this basement.

Andy snores next to you. It’s time like these you have the urge to hurt him. Your head is filled with violent thoughts. Not just towards your current keeper but to all the men who’ve wronged you. It’s the only strength you can find beneath the crushing weight of futility. Being angry means you still have something left.

A subtle buzz thrums through the mattress. You lean back on your shoulder and peek back at him. His phone vibrates him awake from under his pillow. You remember him tucking it under before he dozed off, likely noticing your straying eyes.

If you could just get it, you could call someone, anyone. But just like everything else, it's unreachable. The door's always locked and the conversation is already decided. He makes the rules and you follow them. It's the only way to keep Luna safe. If it was just you...

You roll onto your back as he grumbles, sliding his hand under the pillow to fumble away the notification. You glimpse the small letters before they swipe away, 'motion detected'. The screen lights up as he rubs his eyes and sits up. He bends over his lap, shrugging as he tries to loosen up his shoulders. 'Doorbell activated', the message pops up as the phone continues to jitter.

"Mmm," he searches around the floor as you sit up, your heart in your throat. Someone's here... "Better see who that is."

He grabs his grey tee shirt and swipes it over his head. You try not to show your eagerness, staying in bed as you watch him on alert. He pulls on his pants and puts the phone in his back pocket before zipping them up. Luna fusses and begins to babble. You move towards the crib and he raises a palm to wave you back.

"I got her," he goes to her as you stand, tense as he reaches in to pick her up, "shh, sweetie, daddy's got you--"

"Andy, please, answer the door," you approach him and he turns his back to you, keeping your daughter out of your reach.

"They can wait," he says as he bounces her, only for her to erupt into sobs. "Sweetie, shhh, shhh," he hushes as he rocks her, "be good for daddy, okay?"

He continues his efforts as you watch helplessly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you try to get around him but he continues to block you out. You ball your hands, about to tear your hair out as she wails louder and louder.

"Please, let me take her--"

"Why won't she stop?" He growls, "little brat."

"Andy," you whimper as you grab for her and he elbows you away.

"I'll deal with her," he says, "can't have her making all this racket."

He stomps away from you. You're right behind him as he goes over the kitchenette and opens the lower cupboard with his free hand. He pulls out a chest under there, numbers on dials below the clasp. A lock box. He flips it open and cradles her over it.

"Andy, don't! You can't--"

"She's too loud," he bats you away, "the sooner I get up there, the sooner she can come out."

"Please don't lock my baby up," you beg shrilly, "please, let me take her. I'll get her quiet."

Your skin razes with fire and your lungs fill with acid. You try again to take her and he shoves you away so you stagger and hit the table. It jars your bad hip but you barely notice the pain as Luna's cries drive you to desperation.

"Andy!"

"Shut up!" He snarls as he forces her squirming form into the chest, "she's got about ten minutes of air..."

"Please--"

"I don't need either of you drawing attention. Got it," he braces the lid, "anything happens to me, you won't get her out in time."

Tears swell over and spill hotly as he shuts the lid and spins the dials with his thumbs. You race forward and fall to your knees, clutching at the box.

"Andy, please, I can make her quiet. We'll both be quiet!"

"Shhhhh," he pulls out his phone again, "I know you'll be quiet, honey. If you want to see our daughter again."

You nearly collapse as he spins away. You can only watch him go to the stairs and leave you to your panic. You put your ear to the top of the chest and try to hear her. It's too thick. She's going to suffocate in there. You try to pry the edge open with your nails then stagger to your feet, searching the drawers for anything to get the lid up.

Nothing, there's nothing. Your baby, your baby. You can only think of Luna and the terror of that box. You freeze only as a familiar timber rumbles from above. The walls are padded enough to dampen their words but you know that voice. Harlan...

You wait and listen. Is he looking for you? Down here, I'm down here! You want to run up and bang on the door. Even if they know you're there, they won't know the code and they won't have the time to get her out. So you have to be quiet. You have to wait.

There footsteps pass overhead like a clock counting down. You cling to the chest. Please go. Please, please, please....

You collapse over the chest and hug it. You shake as you listen to the voices above drone through the walls. Your heart beats faster and faster as the second pass. Then, it's silent.

You tremble as you stare up at the ceiling. The door opens and the footsteps come down the stairs. Andy appears, nonchalant and unbothered.

"See, that didn't take very long, did it?"

"Open it," you hiss, "please, my baby, open it!"

"Our baby," he nears and puts his hands on his hips, "don't be so dramatic."

"Please, please," you get up on your knees and grab the front of his shirt, "I'll do whatever you want, honey, please, just take her out."

He huffs and shakes his head. He rolls his eyes as he bends over the box and slowly rolls the dials.

"That jackass and his father," he scoffs as the clasp pops. He stands straight, unconcerned. "Sent them off. He... he never appreciated you. Not like I do."

You flip the lid up and scoop Luna out. She's babbling quieter than before, dazed as you touch her all over, checking her pulse and her temperature. You coo at her and rock her, quaking as your adrenaline recedes. A new wave washes for you, something hotter, something more vibrant. Anger. Hatred. Deep and pure.

You look up at Andy as you embrace your daughter. You will kill this man.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #series #unexpected #au #the gray man #defending jacob

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