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heli-writes · 4 months

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A dragon's heart, part 13.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, marking, trauma symptoms, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki wakes up in a great mood. Yawning, he stretches his limbs. He feels a bit sore after last night's endeavors but he got a hella good orgasm out of it, so he doesn't feel like complaining. He stares at the ceiling of the tent with a big grin on his face. He's finally got a mate. And not just any mate, but y/n. In his mind, he replays some of the scenes when he had y/n bouncing on his dick drunk on pleasure last night. A warm tingle runs down his spine. Goddamit y/n looked so good beneath him.

He pats the space at his side in an attempt to find y/n but he only comes up with an empty space. He turns his head to see where his new mate is hiding only to see the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, he furrows his brows. Where is she?, he thinks. Listening intently, he tries to locate y/n. Maybe she's taking a piss, he concludes and slowly gets up. Quickly, he pulls the discarded linen pants from yesterday over his butt and makes his way to the bathing hut. Without knocking, he enters the room.

That's where he finds y/n. She's leaning against the tub cowering on the floor. She's still butt-naked and dried blood clings to her neck and chest. Katsuki frowns. Didn't he take care of the mark? He remembers pushing a clean cloth against the wound to stop it from bleeding. For how long did she continue to bleed? Did she go in here in an attempt to dress the wound? Why didn't she wake him up?

„Hey, y/n.“, Katsuki calls out to her softly.

When y/n doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and crouches down to her level. „Y/n.“, he tries again. Carefully he touches her shoulder and tries to shake her awake. Y/n's head lolls to the side unconsciously. Katsuki can feel worry bubble up in his chest. He touches her hand. She's ice cold. Did she spend the entire night here on the floor?, he wonders worriedly.

Carefully, he picks her up and carries her back to the bed. Softly, he lays her down and pulls the warm, soft fur blankets over her. As he pulls the blanket up to her collarbone, his gaze lingers on the fresh bite mark on her neck. Again, he furrows his brows. The wound has an unnatural red-violet colour. The tissue is clearly inflamed and infected. Carefully, he reaches up to the wound. Y/n flinches at his touch. By now the wound should start to heal and it also shouldn't hurt anymore.

Absent-mindedly, Katsuki touches his own neck. Usually, mates mark each other during their first night together. He doesn't blame y/n for not returning the favor last night. He hoped they would do it again in the morning and y/n would finally make him hers. It's not uncommon for a mate to be overwhelmed with emotions both mentally and physically during the marking. Considering y/n is an outsider, he kind of already expected it.

Katsuki keeps staring at y/n's neck. He's unsure what to do. Mate marks are not treated as wounds. They're left to heal by themselves. Creams and bandages that could help the healing process also usually lessen the scarring. And mate marks are meant to scar. Having a very prominent mate mark proved having a strong mate and a strong bond. That's why he put all his force behind marking y/n last night. He wanted to prove to her that he is the best mate she could wish for.

However, right now he doubts this practice. The wound looks bad and his instinct tells him to rub alcohol on it. Katsuki chews on his lips. Maybe he should also let the healer look over this. He's never heard of a case where mate marks get infected. Eventually, Katsuki decides to clean the wound and put a bandage on it. It's against the practice of his tribe, but he puts y/n before tradition. He looked forward to showing y/n around the tribe today and letting everyone see the great mark he left on her. Somehow he doubts that y/n is going anywhere today. Clearly, she needs rest.

Katsuki stays around for a while massaging y/n's feet and legs in an attempt to warm her up. When he's sure that y/n is warming up a bit and that she won't be waking up anytime soon, Katsuki leaves her to slumber. After getting himself some breakfast and catching up with some of his men, he returns to y/n's side. He takes some fruit and bread along with him. Y/n must be hungry after everything that happened yesterday.

When Katsuki enters the tent again, he notices that y/n is still asleep. For a moment, he ponders on whether or not to let her sleep. Eventually, he decides that she can nap later. He puts the food on the nightstand and pours y/n a glass of water. Then, he sits down at y/n's side of the bed. Carefully, he leans over to her. Gently, he strokes some stray hair out of her face and caresses her cheek with his thumb.

„Y/n, wake up.“, he calls out to her softly, „I've brought you breakfast. Don't you want to get up?“

For a moment, y/n doesn't react. However, when Katsuki starts scratching her head lightly, she begins to stir. Katsuki feels oddly relieved upon seeing her gain consciousness again. Y/n stirs and twists uncomfortably in the bed sheets. She turns to her side, away from Katsuki. Katsuki watches her with worried eyes.

The world appears infront of her in a haze. Sight and sound appear distorted to her until everything slowly becomes clearer. Her whole body feels sore and there's a biting pain that shoots up her neck. It takes a moment for her to recall what had happened last night. Then, she remembers. Pleasure. Katsuki. His lips on her neck. Then, his teeth sinking into her.

Y/n bolts up at the memory, almost colliding with Katsuki's head that loomed over her. Katsuki retreats immediately when y/n sits up. Her hand flies to her neck, touching the wound he left behind. Y/n lets out a sharp hiss. It must feel as painful as it looks, he guesses.

„Y/n.“, he says carefully. Something tells him the next few moments will be important for them.

Y/n's head flies around and her eyes meet his. Her eyes widen. Then, she scrambles away from him, to the other side of the bed. She pulls the blanket with her trying to cover herself. He can see how her breathing and heartbeat pick up. This time not in pleasure, but in fear. His heart aches.

„Y/n... what's going on? What did I do?“, he asks her. He tries to sound calm and quiet. He doesn't want to scare her away. When y/n doesn't react, he tries to reach out to her, to touch her cheek softly but y/n roughly pushes his hand away.

„Go... away...“, y/n's voice sounds hoarse. The look in her eyes is blank. Katsuki doesn't understand what she says but he doubts it's a profession of love. He pushes his hand through his hair. Worry overcomes him. This is not how he thought their first day together as mates would be. „Y/n...“, he tries again and reaches out to her.

„Go away!“, y/n yells louder while using her foot to push Katsuki's hand away. Katsuki watches her for a moment. There's something behind her eyes now. Fire? No, spite. Katsuki leans back and sighs. There's a lump forming in his throat and his eyes itch. There's no use talking to her now.

He watches her for another moment, just as she is watching his every move. He guesses she watches him for very different reasons though. She looks at him like prey watches its predator, calculating when the blowing kill comes, when it's the right moment to take flight. Slowly, he gets up. He places the fruit and water next to her.

„Eat.“, he tells her. He's sure that's a word she has picked up. He turns his back to her and looks for some clothes for her to wear. When he found some, he gently places them at the edge of the back. He points at the bathing hut.

„I'll heat up some water for you. To take a bath.“, he tells her.

Then he gets up to leave her be. He sees she doesn't want him around right now. He will leave her for now in hopes that she will calm herself.

~*~*~*~

Finally, he's gone. Y/n relaxes a bit when Katsuki leaves the tent. Her eyes wander to the water Katsuki put in her reach. Greedily, she grabs the cup and chugs down the cool liquid. By now, her head is pounding as is the wound on her neck. She wishes she had a mirror to see how bad it really is.

Y/n leans against the headboard and replays what happened yesterday night in her mind. Everything was fine, more than fine, until Katsuki sunk his teeth into her.

„Gods...“, y/n groans and rubs her face. What on earth was Katsuki thinking? Who does this kind of thing? What is wrong with these people?

She remembers how Katsuki eventually let go of her. There are very vague images of him tucking her in and snuggling into her afterward. Clearly, he did not see anything wrong with what he did. She remembers lying awake for some time. She can't even remember how long she must've laid there. Time was a construct that didn't exist at that very moment. She waited until Katsuki was deep asleep until she slipped out of bed and stumbled into the bathing hut.

She felt like throwing up. She felt the wet blood on her neck and chest. His spill clinging onto the inside of her thighs. She tried washing both of it away but the water was ice cold and her hands were going numb. She remembers sliding down at the side of the tub. Crying. Panicking. Wishing she'd be dead instead of here.

Y/n shivers at the memory. She doesn't want to be dead. Things must've been really bad when those were the thoughts that crossed her mind. She touches the inside of her thighs. His dried spent still clings to her skin. Suddenly, she feels disgusted. Not of herself, but of him. How could he not understand when she told him to stop? No matter the language, when someone screams at the top of their lungs in fear, one must notice it. Was he so drunk on pleasure? She wouldn't put it past him.

Slowly, she tries to get up. Her legs feel wobbly and for a moment she's afraid that they won't hold her weight. Carefully, she stumbles into the bathing hut. The hut is warmer than it was last night. She notices how hot water drips through a pipe into the bathtub. She stumbles closer and lets her hand touch the warm water. After using the chamber pot, she steps into the hot water. She hisses as she sits down. For now, she refrains from using the nice soaps and oils that are placed next to the tub. She doubts it will be good for the wound on her neck. In careful movements, she washes away the grime, blood, and semen from her body. Lastly, she tries to clean the wound. It burns as she dabs a clean cloth against it. Eventually, the pain gets so bad that she gives up cleaning the wound.

After giving her hair a good wash, she steps out of the tub and dries herself off. She puts on the clean clothes Katsuki left behind for her. After looking for some rubbing alcohol and fresh bandages to no avail, she gives up and settles on the bed again. She presses a clean cloth dipped in cool water against the wound on her neck and tries to figure out what to do next.

Somehow she doubts that Katsuki tried to kill her last night. Firstly, if he wanted to kill her, he would've been successful. Y/n cannot take on Katsuki in a fight. Secondly, she doubts that what happened last night happened due to Katsuki's ill intent towards her. Absolutely nothing that happened beforehand, or afterwards for that matter, hints towards Katsuki being cross with her. She saw the worry and hurt in his eyes when she woke up. Which makes what happened yesterday a bigger mystery to her.

Why on earth would you hurt someone so badly while being intimate with them? Katsuki was so soft and loving with her. The way he touched her, the way he made her feel... Y/n quickly shakes her head at that thought. She doesn't want to remember how good he made her feel. Right now she wants to be angry with him. For hurting her like this, for not listening to her. Or at least not noticing her.

She wants to blame him, she really does. But ultimately, everything leads back to her poor decisions. She was angry with him yesterday, for deciding things over her head. And instead of being cautious of him, she jumps into bed with him. Should she really be surprised at how this turned out?

She sighs and dips the cloth into the cool water again. Pressing it against her neck, she slides under the covers again. She pulls them over her head and hopes they would swallow her whole. Take her back to her mother's bed where she hid under the covers when a storm raged outside their tent.

Maybe for a while, she could pretend to be there instead of the place she chose to be in right now.

~*~*~*~

Katsuki is not sure what to do next.

After he poured y/n a hot bath, he's standing outside his tent lost in thought. He tries to come up with something he could do for y/n, to make her feel better. He hasn't got much time to dwell on this question. Soon, his men spot him and drag him back to the war tent where he's forced to listen to a bunch of questions and make a bunch of decisions concerning their tribe. He postpones all raids until the near future. He decides that treating their men and strengthening their numbers is a priority right now. He sends small hunting parties into the mountains and adjacent forests to gather food.

When he's worked through most of his men's concerns, he slumps down onto a seat. He massages his temple. He can already feel a headache starting to form.

„Yo, Bakugo, my man. You ok?“, Kirishima asks him uncertainly.

Katsuki didn't notice that his best friend was still in the room.

„Yeah, I'm fine.“, he grumbles and gets up. Kirishima gives him a look that says I-am-not-so-sure-about-that. Katsuki ignores him and steers towards the exit. He doesn't want to talk to Kirishima right now. Unlucky for him, his friend looks right through him and gets a hold of his arm.

„You know, it's not good for the tribe when his leader is somewhere else with his thoughts whilst making important decisions.“, Kirishima condemns him.

„I'm not somewhere else with my thoughts!“, Katsuki snaps at him and pulls his arms free. Kirishima is quick to block the exit of the tent.

„I get it, dude. There are a lot of heavy decisions to make. If you ask me, so far you're doing good. Some men might not like you restricting our tribe's activity outside our territory, but it's the right thing to do right now.“, Kirishima tries to encourage him.

Katsuki groans and turns away from his friend. He does not want to talk more politics with him.

„Or is this about something else?“, his friend says uncertainly.

Damn this Kirishima, why is he so quick about catching onto things?, Katsuki thinks. When Katsuki doesn't answer him, Kirishima is quick to press on about it.

„Is this about y/n?“, his friend asks. Katsuki rolls his eyes and grabs a cup. He doesn't even know what's in it, but he quickly chugs the liquid down.

„Because we heard you last night. Well done, dude!“, Kirishima grins and pats his arm. Katsuki is quick to push his hand off of him.

„Shut up, Kirishima!“, he barks at him and the red-haired man looks at him stunned.

„So... it's not good then?“, Kirishima guesses.

Katsuki doesn't look at his subordinate. He is weighing his options here. He could tell him and ask for advice. Kirishima seems to be better with the ladies than he is. Even though things between him and his mate aren't ideal either. Then again, Kirishima is a giant blabber mouth and telling him could mean telling the entire tribe. That's the last thing he needs. He takes a deep breath.

„No, it's not good.“, he tells him. Kirishima is quiet for a moment before carefully asking: „Why that? She didn't like it?“

Katsuki scoffs.

„I don't know. I thought she liked it. Until this morning. She looked... disturbed.“, he says getting more quiet at the end of his sentence.

„Why that? Did your enormous dick scare the shit out of her?“, Kirishima grins and Katsuki is quick to hit his friend's arm with his fist.

„It's not funny, Kirishima! This is serious!“, he barks at him. His friend gets quiet and a concerned look on his face.

„Walk me through it. What happened?“, Kirishima asks more solemnly. Katsuki scratches the back of his head.

„Dunno... Yesterday was fine. We enjoyed our time together. I marked her, tucked her in and we went to sleep. This morning, I found her in the bathing hut, all cold 'n shit. The wound on her neck looks fucking bad, dude.“, he tries to explain. He can see how his friend has trouble keeping up with his explanation.

„Alright...“, Kirishima says and ponders about it for a moment, „How bad looks the mark?“

„Inflamed, infected.“, Katsuki tells him.

„My mate's mark also took some time to heal. A lot longer than a mate mark usually takes to heal. Maybe it's because they're outsiders. If it's really bad, let a healer take a look at it.“, Kirishima tells him.

Katsuki snorts. He doesn't want another person to look at y/n's mark. Well he does, but he wants others to look at it in awe. He doesn't want others to know that it's not going the way it's supposed to go.

„Hey“, Kirishima puts a hand on his shoulder, „If it's really infected, this is not something to be taken lightly. An infected wound can be dangerous. Do you really want to put y/n's health on the line just because it would make you look bad?“

Immediately, Katsuki feels bad. He remembers the promise he gave to Drami. He wants to be a good mate and he definitely doesn't want y/n to suffer. He wants her to be happy and healthy. Pushing off his friend's hand, he agrees with him Kirishima flashes him a toothy grin.

„See, she'll be fine. Her mark will heal and things will be alright!“, he tries to cheer up his grumpy friend. Katsuki's facial expression still looks worried. After a moment Katsuki carefully asks him:

„How did she look at you? The day after I mean?“

Kirishima is taken aback at this question. They rarely talk about his mate. It's a touchy subject Katsuki usually knows to avoid. Kirishima sighs and sits down next to his friend.

„I mean... things were different for us. She was chosen for me and... I don't know, I did what had to be done. I don't have to tell you that she didn't exactly... want it.“, Kirishima waves his hand infront of his body.

„All of this. Me. Truth is, she probably despised me the day after. Maybe she still does, I don't know.“, Kirishima's shoulders slump down.

„I do my best. I want to be a good mate to her. But it's hard when the other person doesn't want to be with you.“, Kirishima becomes more quiet at the end.

Katsuki remains silent as well. He doesn't know what to tell his friend. After all, he was the one who chose the woman for his friend. He's the reason why Kirishima is feeling miserable with his mateship.

„But hey,“ Kirishima claps his friend's back, „I'm sure it's different for you two! I've seen the way y/n looks at you! She's smitten with you!“

Katsuki stays silent for a while.

„What if she isn't? She barely could look at me today. And not in the I-am-shy-because-we-just-did-it kind of way. More like she was scared of me. Maybe even resentful.“, he confesses to his friend.

Now it's Kirishima who doesn't know what to say for a moment.

„Are you sure? I mean did you give her any reason to be scared or angry with you?“, Kirishima asks carefully. He knows how explosive and rude his friend can be. Katsuki scoffs.

„I've told you what happened. Everything was fine last night and today she wakes up being all shitty towards me!“, Katsuki barks back. Kirishima takes no offense to his friend's tone. He can see the worry on Katsuki's face. He's sure his friend is just hurting.

„Maybe it's because of the wound. Pain can twist someone's mood. Maybe she blames you for her pain.“, Kirishima says carefully.

„Why would she?!“, Katsuki exclaims. Kirishima looks at his friend for a long while. Is he really this oblivious?

„Because you're the one that hurt her?“, he tells his leader carefully. This shuts Katsuki up for a moment.

„I didn't mean to hurt her“, Katsuki says quietly. Kirishima can see regret forming in his friend's face.

„I just wanted to give her the best mate mark I could give. Something she could be proud of.“, he mumbles under his breath. Kirishima catches onto it. He pats his friend's back understandingly.

„You sure that she got that? She's an outsider, remember.“, Kirishima tells him compassionately. Katsuki's ears perk up.

„Do you think that she thinks I hurt her on purpose?“, Katsuki says and Kirishima shrugs.

„I don't know much about outsider's mating traditions, so I wouldn't take my word for it.“, Kirishima replies.

Kirishima pushes himself up again and he pats his leader's shoulder. „Let's go to the healer's tent. We've got to check up on our injured men anyways and you can ask a healer to take a look at y/n.“, he tells his friend. Katsuki nods and gets up as well.

Internally, he's already making plans on how to make up with y/n. He can't have his mate running around thinking he wants to hurt her.

~*~*~*~

Katsuki returns to their tent after y/n has woken up from her nap. She's just changed the cloth one more time when Katsuki, Kirishima and an older man enter the tent. Immediately, y/n is on high alert. What on earth is Katsuki planning this time? Her eyes immediately dart around the room looking for a suitable weapon. Luckily, there are many to choose from Katsuki's collection. She manages to grab a silver dagger and hides it behind her back, pressing herself against the headboard of the bed.

Katsuki enters the tent first lying eyes upon y/n who presses herself against the back of his bed. There's a wild look in her eyes. He's not sure whether it's fear or anger. Or maybe both. He gestures for the two men to wait by the entrance. Kirishima entangles the healer in a conversation to give Katsuki some kind of privacy.

Katsuki walks closer to y/n and sits down at the edge of the bed. Y/n holds his gaze. She definitely looks angry, Katsuki determines. He moves his hand towards her neck but y/n catches his arm, holding his wrist in a strong grip. Her eyes flicker towards the other two men. She's contemplating threatening Katsuki with the hidden dagger.

„Y/n.“

Her gaze flickers back to Katsuki who is still looking into her eyes. He says something and points towards the wound on her neck. With his other hand, he carefully pulls away the cloth that covers the wound. Upon seeing the wound, his expression sours. At least he feels bad seeing his work, y/n thinks.

Katsuki turns around and says something to the men waiting on the other side of the room. He moves away and y/n relaxes a bit. Katsuki steps away and makes room for the older man he brought along. The man puts down a basket and asks y/n something. Katsuki answers for her. The man keeps his eye locked on the wound on her neck. He doesn't move to touch her. Katsuki tells the man something and the man starts taking out medical supplies out of the basket.

Y/n sees fresh bandages, cloths, a salve and a small bottle with a translucent liquid in it. It's probably alcohol, she thinks. Did Katsuki really bring someone here to treat the very wound he created? She moves away when the healer tries to touch her neck. She doesn't want anybody touching the wound. She notices how Katsuki gets angry at her being unwilling to let this stranger treat her wound. This, in return, makes her angry. She trusted him to touch her and where has this gotten her? Why should she let a stranger touch her? When the man moves to touch her again, she finally pulls the hidden dagger from its hiding place and holds it to the man's neck.

„Don't fucking touch me!“, she hisses at the man. She almost pities the man and his shocked expression. Clearly, the man was here to treat her wounds and not to hurt her further. He means no harm and it's probably unfair that she holds a dagger to his pulse point right now. She's not sure why she does it. Clearly, her wound needs treatment.

„Y/n!“, Katsuki's voice booms through the tent. He's fuming. How can she humiliate him infront of their head healer? Kirishima snickers behind him.

„It's not funny, Kirishima.“, he barks at his friend.

„Wel... it's a little bit funny. Seems like your mate is as thickheaded as you when it comes to getting their wounds treated.“, Kirishima points out.

Meanwhile, the healer doesn't dare to move a muscle. Y/n looks as if she's serious about ramming that dagger in his neck. Kirishima pushes past Katsuki. Carefully, he puts his hand on y/n's and pushes her hand down.

„Now, now, y/n, let's keep this civil.“, he tells her. The healer sighs in relief when y/n lowers her hand.

„I don't want strange men touching me!“, y/n yells even though she knows none of the men will understand her.

Kirishima looks at her with pity and y/n can feel her face become red with shame. She must look like a cornered animal and it makes her sick. Kirishima gestures for Katsuki to follow them outside. The three men leave the tent again. The medical supplies stay on the bed with y/n.

Y/n can feel hot tears burning behind her eyes but she refuses to let them flow. She must already look pitiful enough. Instead, she reaches for the medical supplies. She pours the rubbing alcohol onto a clean cloth. She moves to put it on the wound and hisses when the harsh liquid comes in contact with the inflamed tissue. The pain is blinding. She forces herself to keep her hand in place. The wound must be cleaned. It's probably already too late and an infection is forming, but still. Finally, she can feel tears streaming down her face. The pain is just too much. She pants in paint and starts rocking back and forth in an attempt to distract her from the pain.

Y/n doesn't notice how Katsuki enters the tent again or how he watches her attempting to clean the wound. She also doesn't notice how Katsuki's face contorts in pain as well. Not physical pain, but emotional pain upon seeing his mate so miserable. He hates seeing her like this. It's even worse knowing that he caused this.

Katsuki moves towards her and sits on the bed again. Y/n is so blinded by her pain that she doesn't notice how close Katsuki is. Only when Katsuki touches her wrist, does she jolts back in surprise. Upon seeing Katsuki, she tries to move away from him but Katsuki keeps her locked in place. Her chest rises heavily upon being so close to him again.

„Y/n“, Katsuki says softly, „Just let me take care of you.“

Y/n stares at him in bewilderment but doesn't move away anymore. Katsuki lets go of her wrist and takes the cleaning cloth from her. He pours more alcohol on it and moves towards her neck. Y/n flinches away.

„I know it hurts, love, but we gotta clean it.“, he mumbles and moves towards her neck again.

Y/n's hand flies towards his other hand. She grips it tightly. Her nails dig into the back of his hand. She looks at him pleadingly. Katsuki just shakes his head. In a swift movement, he puts the alcohol-drenched cloth onto the wound again and y/n lets out a howl in pain. She curls forward and Katsuki pulls her against his shoulder. Katsuki dabs the cloth onto the wound cleaning it properly. He can hear y/n cry and convulse in pain and his heart feels heavy. He never meant to hurt her, he just wanted to fulfill his promise and be a good mate.

When he's done cleaning the wound he applies the salve the healer brought along and wraps a clean bandage around her neck. Y/n doesn't make any attempt to push him away or murder him with his own dagger. He places her head back on the pillow when he's done. Y/n looks exhausted and pale. Katsuki touches her forehead. He imagines that she's slightly warm.

He brings y/n another cup of water and forces her to drink it. Y/n only drinks half of it before moving away. Katsuki puts the cup away and keeps looking at her. He doesn't know what to say or to do. It's unlike him. He's the leader. He always knows what to say. But when it comes to y/n everything is so much more complicated. It's like she claws away the surface and lays open the deepest parts of him. Parts he refuses to acknowledge exist. It's unfit for the leader of the dragon blood tribe to be this vulnerable.

„Y/n“, he calls out to her softly. Y/n doesn't meet his eyes. Carefully, he touches her cheek. She doesn't resist this time. She only looks at him with soft, sad eyes. He can see tears shimmering behind them.

„Shit“, he mumbles, „I really screwed up, didn't I?“

He moves his hand from her cheek to her hair and strokes it lightly. Tears spill over and Katsuki doesn't bother wiping hers away. Who is he to console her now? Y/n says something to him. He doesn't need to understand it. Whether it's a question or an accusation, it probably holds the same meaning. You did this to me.

„I only wanted you to be proud to have me as your mate, I swear.“, he mumbles as he keeps stroking her hair. Y/n ferociously wipes her tears away. For a moment, Katsuki wonders what she would do if he pulled her close right now. The next moment, he doesn't care what she would do. May you stab me with that dagger, I don't care.

Katsuki moves to lie down next to her. He's lying on the edge of the bed. He pulls her close burying his nose in her hair. Gently, he keeps stroking her hair and arms. Y/n makes no attempt to move away. Eventually, she turns around and stares into his eyes as if she's looking for something. Katsuki doesn't know what to give her. He keeps holding her until she falls asleep again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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pretty-little-mind33 · 6 months

Text

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: After accidentally killing your kidnappers, the twins—especially Tangerine—seem determined to keep you away from harm.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort

Warnings: protiective!Tangerine, innocent!civilian!reader, kidnapping, swearing, mentions of injury and blood, canon violence, plot diverts from canon, No Ladybug—the other assassin is supposed to be Carver (since i felt the characterization would have been too off otherwise!)

~ thanks for requesting! i hope you like this hehe <3 @kpopgirlbtssvt ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

So far, the mission was running smoothly.

Lemon and Tangerine had killed all the men in the warehouse and were now making their way out with the White Death's son. Approaching their car, Tangerine throws his bloodied poncho into the trunk as Lemon stuffs the son's passed out body in the backseat.

"Shit, bruv, I dropped my knife in the warehouse," Lemon suddenly whines with a grimace.

His brother sends him an annoyed look, "Fuckin' cry me a river will ya? It's just a knife."

Lemon narrows his eyes at Tangerine and slams the car door shut. He deadpans, "It's not just a knife. It's Willa. You'know she's my fav."

"Shouldn't have dropped 'er then, yeah?" Tangerine snaps.

Lemon ignores him and walks back into the warehouse. He's gone for a while and Tangerine wonders if perhaps he'd been hurt. Just as his annoyance turns to worry, he sees Lemon emerge from the warehouse, looking incredibly concerned.

"Tangerine, come here," Lemon calls him over and based on the seriousness of his voice, Tangerine reluctantly follows him. His nose scrunches as they walk around the dead bodies they are responsible for. Lemon pulls at a filthy white sheet that hangs in the corner and it falls to reveal a makeshift room with old, beaten, boxes.

However, Tangerine's blood runs cold when he sees you splayed across the mattress in the opposite corner.

Lemon sends him a look. "Heard 'er shift. I think she's asleep," he says.

Cautiously, they move closer and Tangerine hears the occasional quiet whimper escape your lips. He kneels beside you, brows furrowing heavily, as with a gentle hand he pulls on your shoulder so you shift from your side onto your back. Your arm falls limp over the mattress and your head rolls to face him, causing Tangerine to inhale sharply.

Your eyes are shut and your hair is messily splayed around and across your face. You're dressed in a pair of pajama shorts, worn out sneakers, and a tank top, the flimsy bedsheet the bastard that had done this to you had provided you with barely covers your bruised and exposed skin.

Tangerine's jaw clenches when he sees the fingerprints on your thighs and arms. He looks at Lemon, who shrugs his shoulders and then leans over you to take your wrist and check your pulse.

"Sleeping," he repeats.

"Drugged," Tangerine argues and runs a hand over his face. Part of him wants to leave you here. You aren't his responsibility. He has a job to finish and anyway, he'd already killed the men who took you—probably? Hopefully? Fuck. He glances at Lemon, who seems debating the same thing and then Lemon catches his eye, as usual, his brother reads his fucking mind.

"We have to take 'er," Lemon whispers, "She's innocent."

Tangerine looks at you again and his frown remains. Innocent. For all they know you could be the fucking evil mastermind behind it all. Maybe this was your plan all along and they're the fools who have fallen for the trick.

Only, his eyes soften when he watches your chest lift and fall a little harshly. You look so strangely delicate and it's making Tangerine lose his mind.

No, you couldn't be anything other than pure innocence.

Without another word, Tangerine shifts and hooks his arms under you. Your dead weight leans against his chest as the sheet falls from the curve of your foot and his hands tighten around you in fear you'll shiver from the sudden cold.

Lemon watches his brother for a moment, a small smirk tugging at his lips. As much as he wants to, he doesn't comment on the scene in front of him.

* * *

Your head feels like it's spinning. The man you learned is named Lemon is yapping your ear off as you squeeze through the train aisle. You almost bump into him as he struggles with the poor man they'd told you bumped his head, and then the second man who'd introduced himself as Tangerine almost bumps into you.

You squeal, almost tripping, but Tangerine grunts and wraps his arm around your stomach so you don't fall.

Quickly, as Lemon finds a booth and pushes the third man to lean against the window, Tangerine removes his arm and pretends like he didn't feel how badly you tensed under his touch. Raw anger simmers inside him at the mere idea of what your kidnappers had put you through.

You watch as Lemon disappears with the silver briefcase for a moment and you wrap Tangerine's checkered coat closer around you. It's cool in the train and your exposed thighs and arms prickle with goosebumps. You don't dare complain. Tangerine sits next to you and he sends you a look.

"Ya cold, luv?" he asks seriously.

You look up at him, eyes widened innocently, and hesitate before you nod. Tangerine hums, happy you're communicating in some way, and he looks around. He stands and disappears down the aisle.

Lemon obscures your view for a moment when he sits across from you and when Tangerine returns, he's holding a sweatshirt over his arm. He hands it to you without a word and when Lemon gives his brother a confused look. Tangerine rolls his eyes and says, "What? I nicked it for 'er. She's cold."

Lemon hides a smirk as he holds up his arm in surrender and doesn't say much more. You slowly let Tangerine's coat fall from your shoulders as you slip on the sweatshirt. It's large enough to cover up to your mid-thigh and you feel less uneasy.

"So, ya really don't remember what those men wanted with ya?" Lemon interrupts.

You shrink in your seat. You wish you could remember more of your kidnapping so you could tell them. When you came to, you were already in the Twins car and they'd informed you you had been drugged and most likely kidnapped. You couldn't remember why.

While the Twins had been nothing but kind to you, you still can't shake the feeling that they aren't the knights in shining armor you want them to be. You peer at Tangerine as he plucks a pack of snacks from the passing trolley. Without hesitation, he turns and hands them to you.

You sit up a little and look at the snacks, eyes round. Tangerine nods silently as if to say, "It's okay," and then turns his attention to his brother, his blue eyes sharp. "She said she doesn't remember. Will ya lay off her?" he snaps.

You open the snacks and eat them up quickly. You hiss as your split lip opens from your carelessness but you continue to eat anyway.

Lemon and Tangerine bicker again but you're too focused on the food in your palms to care. Lemon sends you a sympathetic look as Tangerine calms down and the third man, who is sitting in a booth across from you all, starts to stir.

* * *

"I am not leaving 'her alone with 'im!" Tangerine exclaims as he stares at Lemon like he's lost his mind. Lemon throws his hands up in the air and glares at his brother. "I don't trust 'im. If he's anything like his Daddy then he's bad fuckin' news," Tangerine reasons.

"So, what's your plan then? You gonna keep her safe by your side, hm? Someone took our case and I can guarantee they aren't gonna play nicely, bruv! She's a fuckin' liability, that's what she is!"

Lemon raises good points but Tangerine ignores him completely.

"She's our responsibility now, Lemon," he says sternly but he's distracted by the doors to the cabin sliding open and your frame slamming into his chest. Surprised, he tenses as your hands grasp helplessly at his suit and hide behind him. Lemon looks as puzzled as his brother when he sees how scared you look.

However, unlike Lemon, Tangerine is in a panic. He spins around and holds onto your shoulders. He leans down as you hyperventilate, his heart beating so loudly. "Hey, hey, luv, what happened? Are ya hurt? What's wrong? Tell me," he says. His large hands move up to cup your tear-stained cheeks as he tries to calm you down.

You make small gasping sounds and point to the now shut doors you just came from. "T-the man! H-he w-was poisoned! I saw the person in the costume prick him with something and now there's blood coming out of his eyes. I think he's dead!" you sound completely horrified and Tangerine can't help himself when he wraps you in his arms and holds you closer.

Lemon paces behind him, clearly alarmed that the white death's son was murdered under their care, but Tangerine is only focused on you.

"Hey, darlin', can you look at me," he whispers as he tries to ground you. "You're fine. Shh, you're okay now. You did the right thing running to us, hmm?" you nod, still clutching onto Tangerine. Lemon scoffs from behind you and his brother sends him a dark look. "She's staying with me," Tangerine says.

"Your funeral mate," Lemon says and unlocks his gun. He looks at you and his eyes soften for a moment before they land on Tangerine. "You've gone completely sweet for 'er," he says in a whisper, almost like he can't believe he's saying those words out loud, "be careful."

You look up at Tangerine and see his jaw clench for a moment. Something flickers in his eyes—denial perhaps—but he just ignores Lemon's warning and guides you back into the train compartment to make a plan.

* * *

Your head is throbbing as it hits the wall of the train. You hear ringing in your ears as Tangerine's shouts become hazy. You feel a hand curl around the hood of your sweatshirt as you're yanked up and thrown to the opposite side of the room again. You crash into the cupboards as foods from the shelves fall onto you.

"Fuckin' bastard," Tangerine seethes, recovering from a punch the man had landed in his stomach. He lunges and hits the man in the nose, the crack audible, as the man crumbles to the ground. Tangerine sees red as he straddles the man and punches him repeatedly. "Ya don't fuckin' touch 'er! Ya hear me? I see one fuckin' bruise from your fingerprints on her again and I'll break all your fuckin' bones!"

You struggle to stand, shards of glass stuck in your palms as you watch the scene with a scared expression. The man slams a glass onto Tangerine's head and taunts cruelly, "What's she to you, hm? One of your little bitches? Your reputation betrays you, Tangerine." You wince at this man's words and when he stares at you, your breath hitches.

"Huh, you one of his bitches, girl? A stunner like you shouldn't be involved with men like him, you know—but, I can see why he keeps you around, I mean you're—"

Tangerine interrupts him with a hard punch in the jaw and his sentence falls short. Without hesitation, Tangerine takes your wrist in his hand and speed-walks away from the scene. You stumble after him as he grunts in pain from the blows he'd taken. When he finds an empty bathroom, he pushes you inside as he crams into the small space.

Tangerine's hip is digging into the sink as he holds up your palm. "Shit, look at your hand," he mutters and then looks up at you more closely, "You aren't too hurt, are ya? I'm sorry, darlin'."

You stare at him, your adrenaline pumping, and blurt out the first thing you think of as you look at the cuts and bruises across his face, and at how disheveled and bloody his suit has become. "You look like shit," you say with concern, and with your other hand, you push some curls away from his forehead. Your fingers dance across his skin delicately, too worried for him to realize what exactly you're doing

Tangerine's eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs. You pull your hand away and stare up at him, your wounds obvious from the blows that the other assassin had landed on you. However, he just smirks. "Atta girl," he whispers, and almost as if on instinct he moves to press his knuckles to your cheek. You feel the warmth spread across them.

Clearing his throat, he pulls his arm away and looks down to unlock his gun. "We gotta find Lemon and we need to get off this god-forsaken train—job be damned. I'm not putting you at risk anymore." You nod, wiping some blood from the corner of your mouth with your sleeve.

"You stay behind me and listen closely. If I say jump, you jump, understand?" he says and slides the door to the bathroom open.

* * *

Tangerine feels his eyes hang heavy as he tries to erase the memory of Lemon's dead body. His heart is pounding as he feels your hands clutch around his arm. He hadn't let you see Lemon, not fully, but you'd cried from the situation anyway (and in fear of his anger he assumes).

After all, he is furious.

"Fuckin' diesel bitch," he mutters, his gun pointed at the girl dressed in pink.

The young girl snarls and stares at him defiantly. She doesn't seem scared of him. However, as soon as the third assassin—the brown-haired man from earlier—enters, she screams. Tangerine senses you tense beside him and he quickly moves to shield you as the man points his gun at you and him.

Tangerine fires his gun sloppily and it hits the man in his neck. However, he's too slow to prevent the man's bullet from hitting you in the shoulder.

You shriek and the pain is excruciating as you fall to the ground. Tangerine spins around, catching you in time as he holds you close and applies pressure to your wound. He holds up your head as he looks into your teary eyes.

"Shit, fuck, fuck, hey–shh, you're okay," he promises, his voice strained. You're not trained for the pain and as much as Tangerine tries to prevent you from looking, your eyes move to your shoulder.

There's blood everywhere.

Tangerine can see that you're in shock as your eyelids flutter. He holds you up but he can't think as you lose consciousness. He wants to scream and he slams his hand onto the ground next to you, desperately holding you to him.

He needs to help you.

Somehow.

* * *

When you wake, you hear Tangerine's voice loud and clear— "You told me you weren't wearing yer fuckin' vest!" he snaps, pacing around the small motel room. Your eyelids flutter and you see Lemon—Lemon!— sitting on the second queen bed, his head in his hands. Tangerine's pendant still hangs from his neck.

"Will ya stop screaming at me!?" Lemon hisses, pinching his nose.

"I though' ya'd died!!"

From where you lay you can see how furious Tangerine looks. His suit is still bloody and he looks as disheveled as he did on the train. You can hear how pained he sounds and your heart sinks.

Lemon is silent for a moment and then he stands. Without any smart comment or argument, he walks over to his brother and wraps his arm around Tangerine's shoulders. Instantly, Tangerine's body seems to melt into Lemon and you hear a choked sob as they hug—you aren't entirely sure who it's from.

After a moment, Lemon pulls away first but puts his hand on the back of Tangerine's nape. "I see ya managed to keep 'er safe," he says, amusement in his voice as he turns to you and you shut your eyes so they'll think you're still asleep.

"Barely," Tangerine's voice is strained, "She's hurt. I tried'a stitch her up as best I could but I ain't no fuckin' doctor. She was passed out the entire time—hope she didn't feel a thing."

You hadn't.

"You care about 'er," Lemon states and you hold your breath.

"I don't," Tangerine insists quickly. "She's just a responsibility. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

Your chest tightens at his words and you feel very stupid. Why would he care more than that? You're still strangers. You don't even know his favorite color. All you know is that you care.

He'd saved you. He was your savior. How could you move on and pretend he wasn't? How could you move on and just not see him anymore?

Lemon sighs sadly, "Why is it so hard for you to admit you care about someone?"

"Because everything I care about dies. Gone. Just like that, Lemon," you hear Tangerine snap his fingers and you flinch, "I don' want 'er to die because of me. Because I cared too much to let her go and live a normal fuckin' life!"

You bite down on your lip—hard.

"I–fuck, you don't understand Lemon," Tangerine says and you wish you could open your eyes to see him. You want to see him so badly but you can't so you stay still, listening in. "I almost lost you and you're a trained assassin! She's just a girl. I can't protect her. I couldn't even protect her tonight."

You want to tell him that he's wrong. He can! He had! Without him, you'd still be kidnapped or worse, dead.

"Mate, you're too hard on yourself," Lemon reasons.

"No. I'm not. I can't fuck up. Fuckin' up means death," Tangerine says sternly, his tone ending the conversation.

You hear faint footsteps and then the mattress dips as someone's nimble fingers find your hairline and push away some stray hairs. Is it weird that you recognize his touch already? You stir unconsciously and shift onto your back, your eyes opening.

You're unaware that as they flutter, all Tangerine is picturing as his blue ones staring back at you is the way you looked when they'd found you—hair messy and spilled across the dirty mattress, skin bruised and bloody. His stomach churns and he feels sick.

"Hi, darlin'," he mutters, and then his fingers, slow and deliberate, move to pull down the blanket so he can access your bound shoulder. You tilt your head and wince when you see the blood seeping through the plaster.

"May I?" Tangerine asks as his hand hovers over your shoulder. You nod, staring up at him with widened eyes as he checks over your wound.

As he works, you're overwhelmed and you have to look away. When you do, your eyes fall on Lemon. "Lemon," you say, "you're alive!"

Lemon cracks a smile and runs a hand over his face, "I am. Were ya sad, bird?"

It's meant to be teasing but you nod instantly and Lemon's eyebrows crease. He looks at Tangerine, who stands up and pulls the covers over you again. "She's a sweet bird, ain't she?" Lemon says as he smiles fondly. Tangerine nods and moves some hair behind his ear as the strands fall messily.

"Yeah," is all he answers and then he tells you, "Rest up now, luv. Your stitches are solid and you need sleep. It's been a long day." You wonder if he knows you'd overheard his conversation with Lemon or if he's blissfully unaware. You try and sit up but Tangerine scowls, "Hey, now, none of that," he reprimands.

"Don't leave me," you say seriously and Tangerine's eyes round.

"Pardon?"

"I don't want to be alone—" you whisper and settle into the pillows again, looking up at him.

"Lemon and I will just be over," Tangerine starts to explain but you reach out and grasp his wrist. You stare up at him silently and Lemon chuckles.

"Think she wants ya to sleep with 'er," he says and Tangerine's cheeks turn pink at the double meaning. He sends Lemon a glare but sits back down beside you. He lets you hold onto his wrist as he thinks of a plan.

You wonder if asking him to lay next to you is too much. You would understand if he refuses.

"I'm gonna clean up a little," Tangerine finally says, "and then Lemon can take the other bed and I'll—I'll sit here, on the floor, and hold your hand so you can sleep?"

His voice has a slight tremble you wonder if he's suppressing, and you can't help but wish he'd just hold you.

"You'll be uncomfortable," you try persuading him as he stands and his wrist slips from your hand.

"I want to keep watch tonight anyways," Tangerine says and smiles. It isn't a smirk—no it's a real smile. You don't argue as you nod.

Your arm dangles from the bed as you try and stay awake long enough to know Tangerine will actually hold your hand. You feel your body slip in and out of sleep as you catch only fragments of Tangerine's conversation with Lemon through the open bathroom door.

"We'll call Billy tomorrow morning and she can call 'er family—tell'em she's safe."

"Ya know, ya could just sleep in the bed—next to her—it's really not that odd,"

"Shut up,"

You're so close to sleep your eyelids feel so heavy that when you hear quiet shuffling near your ear, you can't even open your eyes. Your hand twitches and a soft sound escapes your lips when you feel Tangerine's fingers interlock with yours.

"I'm here," he whispers, the sound so quiet if you weren't so close to him you'd miss it. You hear the sound of his head hitting the bedside table and with an exhausted wince, you shift closer, your hand squeezing his.

"Thank you f-for everything," you manage to mumble, your eyes remaining shut. You aren't sure your thanks escaped your lips audibly because he doesn't answer. You slip into sleep, unaware of Tangerine's mind racing as his hand remains in yours.

Don't thank me, he thinks, please.

His drowsy eyes are trained on the motel door as Lemon washes up in the bathroom. He refuses to shut them. While his back is already aching from sitting on the floor and his arm is tired from being in such an awkward position to hold your hand, he doesn't move.

Instead, he listens to your calm breathing as you sleep. It's so different from when he'd found you—you'd been so scared and, even drugged, your body had been on edge.

Now, you sound so calm and secure and as silly as it sounds, Tangerine's chest tightens. As long as he can help it he'll make sure you're never that scared and vulnerable again.

588 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

NFWMB (Nothing Fucks With My Baby)

Pairing: Reader x Venom

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: you get kidnapped, there's some cannon level violence, nothing to write home about <3

Genre: idk if I should really classify this as angst fr but the ending is fluffy!

Summary: Carnage returns, his mission remains the same; kill Venom. And he plans to use you to do it.

Based on this ask by @weebnotheree (thank you so much for the request, I know it took a while so I appreciate your patience, I hope you like it <3)

***

"Hey y/n!" Your coworker skirts over to your desk with curious excitement.

"Yes?" You glance up from your computer at her.

"Your boyfriend is a reporter isn't he?"

"Correct. Where is this going exactly?"

"Well do you think he'd be able to come cover the charity gala this weekend?" She asks.

"He doesn't really- cover this sort of thing? He'd need to get assigned to it. But I can check with him, he can ask his boss and maybe they'll send someone else down." You concede. It can't hurt, after all, you do need the exposure for the event anyway.

Hours later, after you've both gotten home from work and eaten dinner. You're winding down for the day with Eddie by watching a show together when you propose the question from your coworker.

"Eddie quick question." You say, not lifting your head from his shoulder.

"Yeah?" He's been tracing patterns against your leg for the past ten minutes.

"Do you think you could come cover the charity gala this weekend? My coworker Dani thought it'd be a good idea." You tell him.

"I don't usually write those sorts of pieces." He hums.

"I know I told her, but I also told her I'd ask anyway. It doesn't have to be you, if your boss sends someone else that's fine. We're just aiming to get more eyes on the event." You shrug.

"I'll talk to my boss. He'll probably send someone. Not me though."

"Yeah that's fine, I know these aren't your thing, you don't have to come." You say.

"Say what?" You feel him shift to look at you.

"I drag you to enough work functions. I'll let you skip out on this one." You pat his chest lightly.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Eddie snorts turning back to the TV.

"Technically I already did tell you twice." You chuckle.

"Smartass." He pinches your thigh.

"Always." You sit up just to wink at him.

The following day, you are accosted by Dani pretty much as soon as she walks into the office.

"Did you ask him?"

"Ask who, what Dani?" You ask though you know exactly what she's talking about. "Also have you forgotten that the proper way to start a conversation is with a greeting? What happened to hi? What happened to how are you?"

"Hi, how are you? Did you ask your boyfriend about covering the gala?" She says.

"Hi Dani, I'm doin' alright. How are you?" You ask her.

"Y/n!" She huffs.

"Yes Dani I asked. He said he'd talk to his boss. Knowing Eddie, someone will probably be at the gala. It's handled." You finally cave and give her the answers she came for.

"You're the best!" She tells you.

"I know, thanks." You chuckle. You shrug.

The day of the gala is chaos from the minute preparations start. It's not really anything that surprises you and you've been handling everything that comes your way with ease.

"Y/n!" Your coworker Wendy grabs your attention when you're sorting out something with one of the photographers.

"Yes Wendy?" You aks.

"The uh catering staff is here do you know where they're supposed to-"

"They just got here?! They were supposed to be here an hour ago! Who was on that? They should've been checking for- oh never mind! Their tables are over there on that wall and tell them to hurry Wen the event is literally starting." You sigh pointing her in the right direction. The event is just gaining momentum, doors opened about twenty minutes ago and aside from the catering situation that has just been taken care of, as far as you know, everything is precisely as it should be. At least you hope so since you did come here a couple of hours in advance to make sure things were ready. You aren't technically in charge of this event but you are naturally better at organizing chaos and these events tend to be a bit of a frenzy on the day no matter how prepared you are in advance.

Tonight is your company's annual charity gala. Every year the board votes on a cause to raise money for by hosting a huge party. This year's cause is a charity that supports kids getting involved in the arts. There are a bunch of art projects on display, some of which will be up for auction at the end of the evening, but the goal is to shmooze with the community members effectively enough that they want to support the charity. You spend most of these galas working optics; talking to reporters, setting up pictures, and just generally organizing things throughout the night. As part of the company's public relations department events like these are your specialty. Carefully curating the perception of everything that goes on here tonight with the help of the other members of the department here tonight.

You're pleased to say that a couple of hours in, the event is going off without a hitch. Once it's in full swing, you have your hands full giving statements to different press outlets and sending photographers to snap the board of directors with guests of the event. Just as you're preparing the host for his introductory speech, you notice a small crowd gathering by one of the large glass windows overlooking the city.

"What's going on over there?" The host frowns at you.

"I'm- not sure. Probably just some nightlife chaos got people's attention." You shrug but before you can walk up the stage there's a shout from a few of the guests followed by the sound of shattered glass as something crashes through that large window. The room erupts into chaos as red goop shoots out at people. It only takes you a couple of moments to realize the thing currently ruining your gala is Carnage. You didn't meet him or anything last time they faced off, but Eddie gave you enough of a description to come to that conclusion when you spot the bright red tentacles and eyes so like Venom's but different at the same time.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You huff quietly from where you're crouched behind a curtain with the gala host.

"What is that thing?!" He hisses.

"Doesn't matter. Find the nearest exit and run like hell." You tell him.

"What?! You want me to go out there?! What if it sees me?" He shakes his head. You poke your head out just enough to see Carnage. Weirdly enough he just seems to be picking up people and dropping them on the ground again.

"You ever seen that thing before?" You ask.

"God no!"

"He's looking for something. Unless you think it's you, I'd suggest taking the risk before he starts getting snackish!"

"W-what?!"

"We know you're here! We did our RESEARCH!" The man beside you is practically shaking as Carnage's deep voice rings through the room.

"He's coming this way, you have to move now." You say.

"What about you?"

"He's more likely to notice two of us. I'll be out after you." You're so busy directing the guy you don't realize how close Carnage is to you all until the curtain you're behind is ripped off its bar.

"AHA! THERE YOU ARE!"

"GO! GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" You shout to the guy as Carnage reaches for- you. He's reaching for you, you realize only when one spindly spider-like appendage wraps around your waist.

"How noble of you. We weren't after him- but if you must be the hero-" Carnage easily reaches the scrambling host before he can get to the door and all you can do is shut your eyes tight when Carnage lifts him up. It's only when his screams stop suddenly and something warm drips onto your arm that you're sure is blood. You don't dare to check what Carnage has done, but if you had to guess, he bit his head off; much like Venom does when you or Eddie allows him to. Your eyes only shoot open when Carnage starts to move again, swinging back out the hole he came in through and taking you through the city. You're in the air for quite some time before eventually, Carnage drops you, rather gently for a kidnapper, on the ground inside a dusty building.

"Hello, little thing." Carnage says to you.

"I could have sworn Venom dealt with you already." You cross your arms.

"Almost. I was lucky to escape."

"Unfortunate for the rest of us." You muse.

"Rude!"

"Let me remind you that you did kidnap me so excuse me if I'm not kind." You roll your eyes. "I take it my role is to lure Venom to you? Right?"

"Correct. He cares for you. So he will come."

"Of course, he will. Though, disrupting my work event was an unnecessary scene just to lure him out to- where are we?"

"An old firehouse!"

"Wow you really are a baby." You scoff realizing he's chosen another location where loud noise is common.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing nothing. I presume you have a different host now right? That other guy, the serial killer, died the last time, didn't he?"

"I am bonded to his blood! I can regenerate!"

"I'm sorry- so you regenerated… an entire head for your last host?"

"Yes!"

"That is- very strange." You frown. "Still, this place doesn't hold sentimental value to Cletus so- how will they find you?"

"Oh just call them." Cletus makes an appearance, finally, and rolls his eyes as he makes his request.

"Call them? You want me to call them and lead them to where you plan to kill them?"

"Yes. Or I'll kill you."

"That would be stupid. Killing me won't get you what you want." You scoff.

"CARNAGE! YOU TOOK MY CHOCOLATE DROP! I'M GOING TO RIP YOU TO SHREDS!!"

"Guess we don't need to call him." Carnage says pushing you into the fire engine that's collecting dust in the unused building.

"WAS DYING ONCE NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?!" Venom stomps towards Carnage.

"Father. I'm not that easy to get rid of!"

"EVIDENTLY!" Venom charges at Carnage and the two of them are quickly destroying the old brick firehouse you're occupying. From inside the fire truck you're in, it's hard to tell who's winning for most of the fight. It's all too quick and too fluid the way they're throwing each other around. By the time you've gotten a handle on what's going on between the duo, Carnage has Venom pinned to one of the walls that they haven't totally ruined already. Frantically you turn towards the control panel of the fire engine, you can't imagine it's still fully operational but there's a chance you can find some way to make noise with this thing. You need to give Venom the upper hand somehow.

"V!" You shout and cover your ears for only a moment before pressing as much of your weight as you can into the horn of the truck and hoping for the best. You can't explain the relief that you feel when that horrid loud noise fills the small space and Carnage screeches. You let up on the horn once he stumbles away from Venom, his attention on you now that you've gotten involved.

"You!" Carnage snarls. You lay into the horn again before he can get to you and the sound seems to disrupt him enough to almost completely separate him from Cletus. You let up when Eddie has crept up behind them and Venom takes over to fully rip Carnage from Cletus by force. You didn't think that was possible and it is extremely strange to watch. Venom grabs Cletus with an extra appendage and holds him far in the air as he eats the angry red goop that is Carnage.

"EVEN WORSE THE SECOND TIME." Venom grumbles and you can't help but giggle a little. The noise makes Venom wink at you before turning his attention to Cletus. "THIS TIME STAY DEAD!" Venom says before biting his head off, out of your line of sight. You come out of the fire truck just in time to catch him dropping the body.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" Venom runs over to you and lifts you into his arms so you're eye level with him as he looks over you for injuries.

"I'm fine V. He didn't actually hurt me. You got here so quickly." You muse.

"EDDIE WAS WATCHING COVERAGE OF YOUR GALA." Venom explains.

"It was going so well until he crashed it." You pout. "You don't have any other errant children we should know about right Venom?"

"NO. NOT THAT I KNOW OF." Venom shrugs lowering you back to the ground.

"Good because this kidnapping thing is very inconvenient." You say. Eddie chooses that moment to reappear and he quickly wraps his arms around you.

"Y/n, baby, thank fuck you're okay. I am so sorry." He breathes out.

"You're sorry? What for?" You frown as you hug him back.

"If I had just come to the damn gala in the first place-" You pull back and hold Eddie's face in your hands to make sure he hears what you say next.

"No. It wouldn't have changed anything. In fact, it would actually have been worse I think. There were hundreds of people in that building and we were on one of the higher floors. The casualties if you had fought him there would have been so not worth it. This was the best outcome. I'm sure there were several injuries but I think there was only one death besides him so- don't apologize. Especially because there was no way you could've predicted him crashing my event. Don't blame yourself because other than a ruined charity gala and the inconveniences that come with a kidnapping, I've barely got some scrapes. You two did well." You tell him.

"We couldn't have done it without you. The fire horn was a great idea."

"Yeah well, you were going to die. And I didn't have any fire." You shrug. "We should get out of here though, I can't imagine it'll take much longer for authorities to get here in search of the red monster that crashed a charity event." You add.

"True. The party looked beautiful by the way. You know, before Carnage trashed it." Eddie says scooping you into his arms.

"Thank you baby." You kiss his cheek just before Venom appears again to take you all home.

"I WANT A KISS TOO! I DID ALL THE WORK."

"You can have as many kisses as you want V." You say kissing his cheek too as he walks out of the trashed fire station with you in his hold.

"I WANT ALL THE KISSES THEN!" He declares as he swings you both up into the air.

"Once we get home I'll kiss you til my lips fall off if you so wish my love." You giggle.

"NOT THAT MANY! IF THEY FALL OFF I WON'T GET ANY MORE IN THE FUTURE!"

"Okay okay. Reasonable amount of kisses, once we get home. Deal?"

"DEAL!" Venom says before taking off from building to building to get you home. There's no such thing as normal when your boyfriend is sharing his body with an alien you suppose, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #venom fluff #venom x reader #venom fanfiction #venom #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock #venom angst ?#venom angst #requests

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doctorbitchcrxft · 7 months

Text

Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 4833

A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!

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A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.

You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared.

About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt.

You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands.

You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car.

‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.

Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being.

Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car.

“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you.

“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.

‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’

“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.

“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.

‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”

The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”

The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked.

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”

“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off.

“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away.

***

After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks.

‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’

The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament.

You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in.

You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny.

“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”

Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in.

“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.

It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’

“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave.

You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car.

“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.

“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”

“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied.

“Look, man—” you started.

“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”

“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised.

Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”

“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”

The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”

“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it.

“Oh-kay,” you muttered.

“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”

“A bit touchy?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed.

“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked.

“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”

“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”

“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head.

“Well, do you know anything about the case?”

“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”

“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.

“Okay, then what?”

***

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along.

“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.

“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

“What’s Monday?” you asked.

“I’ve got an interview with law school.”

“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled.

Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

“No, and she's not ever going to know.”

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge.

“And who's that?”

“You're one of us,” Dean said.

Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.

“You have a responsibility to—”

Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.

“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.

“Guys!”

“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing.

The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”

“No idea,” Dean answered.

Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights.

“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.

“Who's driving your car?” you asked him.

He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them.

“Oh.”

The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible.

“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.

‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’

“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”

“What?” came his aggravated response.

You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.

“I’m super,” his brother responded.

You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door.

“Your car okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”

Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process.

Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”

***

Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room.

Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together.

“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall.

‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.

His brother turned around.

“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”

Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are strange.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom.

You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean.

“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.

He smiled sadly at it.

After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”

“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”

“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.

“I’m sure you are,” you smiled.

“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his.

“Meh, not much to tell.”

“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted.

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”

“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again.

“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.

“You sound like Dean.”

“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—”

You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest.

He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?”

You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said.

“A burger would be great,” you told him.

“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”

“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him.

You shook your head. “Dick.”

Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out.

“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.

“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”

“Shit.”

Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.

“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.

Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.

***

You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive.

After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops.

Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear.

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”

“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped.

“Don’t objectify me.”

“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”

“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”

“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation.

You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.”

Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”

“No,” Sam answered.

You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward.

“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him.

“It’s not me.”

You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off.

“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up.

The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”

‘That’s it.’

“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully.

“Sam!”

Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her.

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”

You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala’s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you.

You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots.

“Sam!”

“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled.

Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest.

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car.

‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought.

The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window.

“I think,” Sam responded weakly.

“Can you move?” you asked.

“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother.

Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”

You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car.

You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs.

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor.

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau.

Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.

Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.”

You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly.

“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly.

“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid.

“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”

“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head.

“No, no, I shouldn’t—”

“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”

A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college.

***

The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat.

“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”

“True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.

“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map.

“About 600 miles,” he answered.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in.

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”

The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.

“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.

“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist.

Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex.

You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat.

Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”

Sam patted the car door twice before turning away.

“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay.

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.”

Dean then began to drive off.

The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped.

“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail.

He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.

The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment.

Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom.

You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex.

It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed.

You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say.

Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.

You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly.

‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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hanihazeljade · 8 months

Text

Disgustingly Green

Tim got de-aged at the age of 8. The age where he is the exact carbon copy of his parents ruthlessness. Can Batman, Nightwing and Robin can handle him?

(CW: verbal abuse, wrong parenting)

Part 2: Skill Issue

Part 3: Forced Playdate

Timothy doesn't know where he is. He knows that he fall asleep on his bed and not on some clinics. He slowly rise up to look around his surroundings.

His vision is still hazy and he rubbed his eyes with his fist as he yawns. He heard someone cooed before him. It is a grown up man that he doesn't know.

With that in his mind, he shook away all of his sleepiness. Was he kidnapped? Again? Oh no, his parents wouldn't like it.

"Hi Little Timmy, how you feeling?" The man asked him but he just looked at the man. He has blue eyes and black hair and also really really handsome. Maybe he wasn't kidnap?

"I am fine, thank you for asking." he politely replied, on reflex.

"Do you know who I am?" the man smiled at him and he just shook his head. "I'm Dick, your brother." the man, Dick, introduced himself. His face must be formed some confusion when the man chuckled, "My parents doesn't know that there is a double meaning with that, if that really bothers you, you can call me Richard."

"How about we go up? the man—Richard, said. He nodded, he doesn't always like hospital beds.

He was about to jumped out of the bed when Richard just grabbed him and carry him. He let it be, after all he likes it, noone touched him for weeks now and he missed having skin contact.

Going up the stairs and coming out of a grandfather's clock, weird, he look out of the window and he knows where he is. There is only one place like this that he could possibly be. He is still in Gotham, in Bristol still but he doesn't know which house.

The man— Richard— carry him till they end up in a long table, probably the dining room. In there, they're some people seating and he knows the man who is seating on the head seat, it's Bruce Wayne. He knows his face because his mother always pointed out his stupid behaviour but good thing is that he has some good looks.

"Is that Tim?" Bruce Wayne knows his name, holy cupcakes.

"Yep. As cute and light as ever." Richard said as he keep on cooing to him and Timothy doesn't appreciate that.

Richard put him down in a chair and a butler comes and bring him some cookies. "He wants to eat because it seems like he didn't eat for so long. "Go on, dig in Master Tim."

"Is there walnuts here?" he asked and the butler agreed.

"Yes there is a walnuts in there."

Tim pouted, he is allergic to walnuts. "I am sorry, Mister Butler, but I am allergic to walnuts."

The butler seems shocked at his claimed but quickly dissolved his shocked and gave him a chocolate chip cookie. "I hope this one is not something you are allergic with."

"Thank you, Mister Butler." he said as he take a bite. The cookie is delicious.

After the snack, Richard bring him to the room that he apparently has been using here. But he doesn't remember that. But hey, his parents won't be back till Thanksgiving and they have cookies here, he will escaped the week before Thanksgiving.

++++++++

Tim was watching a documentary about the alps and different flora that has been keeping up with the extreme weather of it, when a kid, definitely more older than he is starts bothering him.

"Tt. Of course Drake will be incompetent enough to be a hindrance in his night life." the kid said, behind him is Richard and Mister Wayne.

Timothy Jackson Drake knows that is a jab to him, and all he could remember is that his father kept on saying, "If they hit you as Drake, you hit them back twice." and her mother added, "Not physically, Timothy but rather used highly intelligent words that may hurt them. Unless they do it first." and those words were imprinted on him.

Timothy paused the documentary, and then walked closer to the boy that was insulting him, and when they are foot apart he stopped.

"Mister, you have such a vibrant green eyes." he said, "But my mother said to me that green is the colour of disgust, that's why she gave birth to a blue eyed kid. Is your mother disgusted of you?" he asked. The room was silent, no one decided to say anything after that, the kid who insulted him has a hurt in his face, but Timothy is not done yet.

"But green is also a colour of evil in Disney, like when Ursula is trying to steal Ariel's voice or when Scar pushed Mufasa in the cliff and also the green poison apple in Snow White, so is that why your Mother left you because you are evil and disgusting like them, or you are evil and mean like them because you are disgusting and left by your Mother?" he said. He strike back twice and that is his goal. His mother would be so proud.

"Tim!" a voice behind him yelled, it was Mister Wayne.

"Yes, Mister Wayne?" he smiled at the man.

"We don't insult people here, okay? Apologise to Damian, now." Mister Wayne demanded, making Tim to frowned. He is not in the wrong though?

"I am not insulting anyone, Mister Wayne. I am merely saying my observations of him." he said while looking at the adult that is so much larger than him, but Mister Wayne is a dumb man, he always broke his bones and spills wine to other people so maybe he wouldn't get it.

"However, if it really bothers you..." Tim said and he looked at Damian, "I am sorry that your mother hates you because you are disgusting and mean and evil." he added as he looked back to the stunned Bruce Wayne.

"If you excuse me, I am exhausted to talk to anyone here. You should know better Mister Wayne, you are an adult." he said and then he walked towards to his room, leaving the three stunned. Well at least he made his point.

#tim drake #fanfic #unhinged tim drake #de aged tim drake #cruel tim drake #chaotic tim drake #timothy jackson drake #tim drake wayne #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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terezis · 1 year

Text

ok here's the hot goss from the nycc taz gn panel

i don't actually know whether or not it was recorded/ if they're going to put it online so here is my summary. also if i miss anything and u were there pls feel free to chime in. spoilers obviously!!!

got eight new preview pages (four two-page spreads), not the pages on the macmillan website!!!

ok i will tell u about those pages but the main thing discussed at the panel was how they went about adapting this arc into gn form. the actual time spent in wonderland has been trimmed a lot bc they had to think about what was actually important to the narrative as they are building to story and song.

basically in planning out the suffering game they also really had to decide what the rest of the series would look like, bc whatever they include now is seeding the stuff that's going to happen later.

cam is not in this book. it was implied there's less wheel spins. rowan/ash/sterling get much less screen time

almost half of this book is lunar interlude stuff (pre and post suffering game, INCLUDING REUNION TOUR!!! no word on where it ends but they made it clear that a LOT of thought went into what to include and where to end it, and what that would mean for the next book)

ok so about those preview pages

first one was post-taakitz date with kravitz sensing a lich and the umbra staff shooting at him <3 <3 <3

i thought they were going to show us the preview pages that were on macmillan so when i saw kravitz i was so shook

second spread was magnus visiting the voidfish, which now happens right before they leave for wonderland; the whole beginning of tsg from magnus trying to talk to pringles to him kidnapping those guards to the chimera fight was cut LOL bc it never really got… addressed again in the podcast

angus comes to get him for the mission but magnus has been going Through It (outright stated, they were like. he found out he's a red robe. he would probably not be handling it well. he has eyebags now. LOL) and snaps at angus when angus presses him on what's wrong.

more angus content, he will be investigating what's going on at the bureau more (his scene w magnus ties into this)

same for lucretia! more content/ stuff for her to do

third spread was merle w his kids getting saved by the red robe, is at a carnival instead of a random street this time LOL

last one was the boys arriving just outside of wonderland

wonderland looks fuckign cool

what else… oh confirmed like eighty panels of bare ass naked magnus after he gets his body back. so i think we really are getting the full reunion tour this book???

ALSO NAKED BARRY COVERED IN SLIME. WHEN HE GETS OUT OF THE POD. CONFIRMED. CANON. LOL

omg ALSO!!! ben (editor) said he campaigned REALLY HARD to have the umbra staff break during the suffering game, freeing lup early, bc he really wanted more time with her, but griffin campaigned really hard NOT to do this, and in doing so his arguments solved a lot of other problems they had been having at the time LOL

travis is the fans' champion when the others get too edit-happy. he's the one who has a good idea of what moments are important to the readers so he's like hey… too far. don't cut that. and then they don't

justin leaves great notes and when they couldn't figure stuff out ben would often say "no it's fine justin will solve this." and he ALWAYS DID

this was news to justin

??? i think that's all the main points honestly i'm v picky about adaptations but overall i feel like these are good changes that make sense when translating the podcast to gn

that said i do hope taako still gets a washing machine dropped on him <3 do this for me carey <3

#taz #taz balance #taz gn #taz gn spoilers #the suffering game #sorry it's long it was just SO juicy #didn't even mention them talkign about all the like technical art stuff carey also talked about color/panel composition to convey #info and mood

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khristie16 · 1 year

Text

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves. warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut. tag list: @buendiabebeta words count: 2K Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Run cariño”

The cold environment around was not helping your situation at all. The wind was spreading around your skin like a plague and you felt goosebumps rising up your skin. You looked at both of them guys in disbelief. It was hunger and determination in their eyes. You knew you are their prey, but most importantly you started to feel like one. And although you knew what was waiting for you in the forest and who to await, somehow you couldn't bring yourself to commit to it.

“We give you a head start cherie, then there will be no help anymore. Choose wisely, your time is ticking”

Your eyes darted from side to side, your step back resulting in a crunch of something under your heel and you started to get scared. A sound that could become your nightmare echoed around you, causing anxiety, a desire to escape. Carlos groaned so inhumanly that you were starting to fear for your life. You hoped that they wouldn't ever hurt you, …right?

You knew there was no going back now. You expected what awaits you. You delayed your decision because you didn't want to admit what this theoretically meant for your future. And so you hesitantly turned around and started running. You didn't know that you weren't running away from them as much as you were running away from yourself, you were afraid of the answer to the question of why you let this get so far.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You feel weakness in your legs. You left your heels behind long time ago, you don't know how and you don't even know how long you've been running, and the only thing that keeps you company are the sounds of your breath and hooting owls. You heard nothing more. And you were glad for it. Until you heard the first distant steps behind you.

Your heart races in sync with each pounding footstep on the leaf-covered ground. The moon's feeble light barely penetrates the dense canopy, casting shadows that seem to reach out for you. That is when you're like a lighthouse, your dress lights up in the moonlight, it's like you're a siren calling your lover to you. But you weren't the one who had dominion over them. They have one over you and they're coming for you. You are their beautiful bait and they look forward to seeing what they can get out of you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, mixing with the rustling leaves and the distant calls of dangerous creatures.

Your senses are on high alert, and you strain to hear any hint of your pursuer's approach. Your path is uncertain, guided only by instinct, and you pray that you don't stumble into a hidden trap or lose your way entirely. Each second feels like an eternity as you navigate this dark, twisted labyrinth, desperately seeking refuge and safety from the relentless pursuit that shadows your every move.

As you were getting lost in yourself, you found yourself in captivity. Like a hare caught in a trap. The hare was going to be dinner and that's exactly how you felt right now because you were hanging upside down and your legs were tightly tied together. Before you could recover, the world around you seemed a blur, and you couldn't find a single stable point of reference to focus on and pick up your spinning mind. It took some time for you to swing to a relatively stable motion in the suspension and you began to search for them with your eyes. You were scared and not sure if this was part of the game. What if you accidentally wandered into someone else's territory? After all you don’t know where you are and what type of people live around here. So you waited for a moment with a huge tension in your muscles, desperately trying to catch the tiniest bit of sound that would indicate that you were not alone. That desperate you were, to see your hunters. And some wishes come true.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Look at the beauty. She is even bare for us.”

You knew it was Carlos talking. You saw a pair of legs walking right towards you. And you couldn't help but feel relieved that they had found you. What is going on with you? You could feel Charles as well, the rush of heat behind your back was quite noticeable. Your boys found you…

“So beautiful. Her wetness shines the same as her dress.”

Only now did you realize what he was talking about. Your clothes were revealing. You had them halfway down and the only thing stopping the fabric from going all the way down over your face were your breasts. You were like a sacrifice for both the two, in honor of their presence. You didn't know what to do with yourself, you started shaking if it was even more possible and you wanted to hide, you had never experienced such shame in your entire life.

Someone's fingers started to touch you very sensually at your bound ankles. They slowly moved from side to side and he gradually took it down to your thigh. You held your breath at the fact that this was the first time one of the boys had touched you like this. You felt your bottom flush with blood and you swallowed loudly in response. Charles chuckled at that. Before you could feel even more shame, someone's hands grabbed your thighs tightly and violently and you were suspended to a greater height. Your face was now at Carlos's crotch level and you couldn't help but smell his scent, which you've known so intimately for a few months now. You never realized how used to that smell you are… Carlos continued his act and opened you wide. Your knees were bucked to the sides and Charles pressed into you from behind with such vigor that it was impossible for you to fall down again. You had Carlos in the front and Charles in the back. In their captivity between their bodies that warmed you so.

“We thank god each day for you being so tiny. We can do whatever we please with you.”

“Oh and look Carlos how beautifully she is glistening for us. You waiting for us to devour you right cherie?”

You lost your words at his words. You’ve never experienced such thing, guys only ate you out in bed in a completely normal position, not hang up with your ankles tied together. Carlos growled immediately with your lack of response. You whined so hard because you didn't like the position you were in. You felt the blood rush to your brain and you expected it to get worse and worse.

“Cherie, it will only get worse, you will make us eat you like hungry wolves if you give us even less time.”

Your desperation showed in another wail and you forced yourself to answer them with your cries.

“Y-yes, I w-want you t-to”

“Want to what cariño”

“To e-eat m-me..”

You just had a little bit of time to let out a painful whine before they both started on you. One part of your cunt was handled by Carlos while Charles tore his tongue inside of you, neither of them making sure it was gentle. It was so intense that one whine turned into a loud moan and you no longer recognized who was who. Their tongues melded together as you experienced one intense bliss. They ate you like they hadn't eaten in a month and the more you wiggled and sighed, the more bites they added and you couldn't even bend your back because of how tightly they held you between them.

And so you got carried away. You had already given up on resisting them as your head hurt more and more and it was getting harder and harder to resist them, so you let yourself get carried away by the satisfaction they brought you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer and the slightest movement from their mouth would cause you pain that you could never have imagined. On the contrary, if it was possible, you tried to immerse yourself in them more and more, because you were afraid that they might break away from you. Their tongues were like at home with your cunt. You let out everything you could, the guys digging their nails into you so deep you were sure they left scars on you as your orgasm accompanied you. The orgasm flew through your whole body to your head, where it was already ringing and you stopped being conscious. You slowly and intensely fell into unconsciousness surrounded by your possessed admirers. Was it the worst or the best thing that could have happened to you?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“She's such a strong woman you see?”

“Yeah, she did sooo well Carlos. You need to be more nice to her.”

“She doesn't need nice. She needs us.”

You slowly started to wake up and blink your eyelids quickly to relieve yourself from the darkness and look around to see where you are now. You vaguely remembered what happened in the forest and now you were confused as to where you went. You couldn't come up with an answer, but you knew one thing for sure. Your shoulders are stiff and tense. When you took a little time, you found out that your hands were forcibly tied behind your back, someone was holding them. That is, you found yourself in the lap of Carlos, who held your wrists behind your back so much that your chest sticked out. And you knew by the smell that you must be in the car. When your eyes finally started to cooperate with your consciousness as well, you recognised that Charles was sitting in front of you, on the ground where the car seat had been positioned before.

“Hello cherie”

“Charles…”

You looked into his eyes, they were so gentle and carried so much comfort and warmth that you couldn't believe that this Charles was the same Charles from the forest, that animal from the forest that was harassing your pussy, it's a wonder you didn't lose all your humanity.

“I noticed that you have a weird obsession with my rings. You like them a lot don't you baby?”

You looked at him again and just stared blankly at him. Were you that noticeable? Charles has divine hands, and palms, and fingers, and you always wondered why you didn't faint when you saw those rings on his fingers, which you often imagined on your body.

“Y-yes…”

“I thought I could give you some of my rings. Sharing is caring, no?”

Now you had no idea what he meant. What would you do with his rings? You like those rings in the first place because he's wearing them. Before you could think twice, Charles pulled a box out of his pocket. Opening it, he pointed it towards you so you could see what was inside. There were two small circles, black circles. These were definitely not for the fingers. Your confusion was evident from your facial expression. Charles chuckled and continued on.

“I understand your obsession cherie. That's why I'm doing this to you. I give you my rings and you're gonna wear them proudly on your tits.”

That made you squirm a little. And only now did you notice that you were sitting there completely naked. Fear began to flow through your veins again and you waited to see what would happen next. You were excited about it.

“Look at her, she's so excited about it.”

Carlos remembered his presence and you flinched at his sudden reaction. You looked back at Charles who was already taking two small rings with his fingers and pinning them to your nipples. It was a pain that could make you sweat your soul out.

“I want you to wear them to the ceremony. I will buy you better ones later.”

The pain clouded your brain and the only sound you made was a whimper. After which Carlos put more pressure to your wrists. He obviously didn't like any sign of weakness. After a little bit of time you took for yourself to calm down and try to forget about the pain you’ve felt, you tried to remember what was Charles talking about not so long ago.

“About what ceremony are you talking about?”

Charles was creeping inside your cunt and one of his fingers was slowly disappearing inside you. You were watching it from the very first moment and you could come undone just from that.

“For claiming you as ours and keeping you”

Your brain went into overdrive and you slowly went back to thinking that this was all a bad idea and bad for your career. But Carlos, as if reading your mind, started kissing the side of your neck and earlobe. You closed your eyes and Charles added a second finger that sent you back into your dumb fucked state and you let yourself be swept away by the flow of satisfaction again.

“We need to make sure you're ready to take us. You're so tiny and tight baby girl.”

You started to move against him because the only thing you had become was a selfish thing chasing your own satisfaction and forgetting everything else in your joy. You would do anything to bring yourself to the peak. Carlos started biting you and you tilted your head back even more so he could destroy you even more. And you felt the growing thing in his pants that was trying to invade your space with this. You wanted it so bad. And you were so hoping to have them all night just for yourself.

“You want to come on my rings cherie?”

“Y-yes.”

Charles added a third finger and sped up. But you were far from done with your wish.

“And I want you to come on my rings too.”

Charles hissed at that and Carlos bit into your neck like never before. You were closer and closer and you were coming out with the words of Charles's name and his words in the air filling your ears.

“Come for me then cherie.”

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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ravenna-reid · 4 months

Note

hey babe! how you're doing?

so here's an idea i had. Maybe something like reader was kidnapped by joker, tortured just like jason but Batman saved her before the same fate as the second robin hits her. And Bruce -needs- jason to help her because he's the only one who passed through what she passed?? like, they're relationship could be something angsty, idk

Hey!! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! <3 Tysm for requesting!!! I love writing for ya'll and this idea!!!! This idea is everything omg....I hope you enjoy what I've written hehe

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

Old Scars - Jason Todd x Reader

TW: torture via electrocution, trauma (canon things)

Three and a half hours.

That's how Bruce had tried to smooth it over.

By saying it was only three and a half hours. But as far as Jason was concerned, that's three and a half hours too long.

"Bruce...fuck I can't believe he did this again."

"Me either..." Bruce murmured over the comms, barely audible. "It should never have happened."

It wouldn't have happened... if only you would let someone put the clown 6ft under.

The bitter thought repeated in Jason's mind like a broken record, but he kept it to himself. Because all he could think about right now was you and what had happened. All he could focus on was the traumas and fears that were resurfacing, itching away at him like a disease. Consuming him like a plague. And it was even worst knowing you had gone through it all too now.

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

Three and a half hours.

It'd only been three and a half hours...and yet it was feeling like an eternity. You spluttered on the water that had made its way into your mouth and down your throat.

The manic laughter was numbing your ears. The straps on your arms and legs were digging so deeply into your skin it was making your stomach churn. The burning in your veins and jolts tracing through your limbs were near unbearable.

Wasn't it ironic how your main weapons on patrol involved electricity. And now, the clown had you strapped to some sort of hospital bed; routinely dumping a bucket of water on you before turning up the volts attached to your limbs.

Well, that's what the punchline was according to Joker. That's what made this all oh so funny.

All you could think was how much longer?

How much longer until Bruce came? Or Dick, Cass, literally fucking anyone. Clark or Diana even.

But no matter how hard you fought to suppress it, that same thought repeated in your mind like a broken record.

No one had come for Jason. They were too late.

Black dots were swimming in your vision and your head was pounding. It took you a second to realise that no one was actually hitting it to cause that sensation. Everything was blurred and hazy, but he was laughing again. You could tell. And laughing meant another jolt of electricity.

No please. You just wanted to go to sleep. Close your eyes.

Maybe if you slept, the pain would all go away. Fade away like a sick dream. Maybe it'd stop. Just for a second.

"No.." You cried, then cursed yourself. This sick freak would find satisfaction in your begs, but the words fell from your lips before you could stop them.

"I can't...I..."

Your scream tore through the atmosphere as he flipped the switch.

Then...glass shattering. The clown falling to the floor. Pointed ears.

And finally...darkness.

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

It'd been 30 minutes.

30 minutes of Jason standing outside your bedroom door.

But he just couldn't do it.

He knew how selfish it was. Selfish and cruel.

You'd both had been friends for a while now. Nothing major, not like you and the others. But he had a deep-rooted respect for you. You and your backstory, your unwavering morals and goal. He really did admire you...he just had a shitty way of showing it.

You were kind without being a doormat. Strong without being unhinged and violent. And you always appeared at the perfect time. Whether it was when he was outnumbered in a fight, in need of some extra bandages and headache medication, or when he was alone on a rooftop contemplating everything.

You seemed to have always appeared at the perfect time. And he couldn't even do that.

"You have to help her through this Jason, regardless." Bruce had said to him. Chastised him. Berated him.

"Do you think..." Jason trailed off, those horrible words dying on his tongue.

'Do you think she'll end up like me now?'

Bruce hadn't given him the chance to explain what he was trying to say. "Jason this isn't about you!" He had snapped, ripping Jason from his thoughts.

"Y/n needs you right now. She needs someone she can relate to. Someone who can understand. Can you do that Jason? Be there for her when she wakes up?"

So here Jason was, before your door 35 minutes later.

A stupid tremble began in his hands as he glared down at them. Begging them to just rise and knock on your damn door. Was it the fact that you had just been involved in something so heinous that was crawling under his skin? Or was it his visit with the past? Most likely both. It was most likely everything-

The door swung open, Alfred dressed in his usual attire, now bloody and dishevelled, and a mournful look on his face.

Jason's heart leapt into his throat. "Alfred, is she-"

Alfred raised his hand and closed his tired eyes. "She should be fine Master Todd. Few bruises here and there, but most of the damage is internal."

Jason let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding.

"That vile man..." Alfred began with the shake of his head. "Whatever he used to electrocute Miss y/l/n, it was made so that she wouldn't die instantly..."

"He wanted the moment to last as long as possible." Bruce was behind Alfred, face as blank as ever.

Jason stiffened. Frustration and panic and hate bubbling all at once inside of him. For who was to blame for this deja vu of a situation?

The clown that should have been killed, or the man that keeps protecting him?

"I'm glad you decided to come Jason."

Jason wanted to scoff. Huff in annoyance. But stuck to his bitter glare. "So she's alright? A-alive, she'll live?" He snapped.

"Yes, she just needs a lot of rest. She's not fully conscious yet but, you should still go in and see her."

Jason swallowed hard. "You can leave then."

Bruce tried to keep his temper, and to do so, he left with Alfred without another word. Alfred gave a weak smile for encouragement before Jason forced himself into the bedroom.

No doubt Alfred and Bruce had performed numerous medical procedures on you. 'Electrocution' Bruce had explained, for who knew how long. But he had assured Jason that he did everything he could, and that for the mean time, you should be ok...

The door squeaked as he shut it behind him, and suddenly it was as though the room was trying to swallow him whole, the only comfort being your scent.

The sun fought to break through not only the dark clouds outside, but the sheer curtains that were drawn over your windows. It casted dark shadows across your room, and they sat and watched as Jason neared your bed.

He wish he would stop fiddling with his hands. Stop sweating. Stop continuously swallowing. But he had no idea what state you were in. What he'd see once he looked down at you.

Nearing the bed, he saw your form nestled amongst the thick duvet and pillows. And as he quietly sat himself down on the chair beside your bed, he let out another sharp breath.

Your face was pale like snow. Colourless like the overcast sky outside. Your eyes were closed as you remained in your slumber, and Jason only hoped it brought you more peace than reality did. That the drugs you were hooked up to weren't keeping you trapped inside of a nightmare.

Was this what he had looked like afterwards? So sad? So silent and distant from the world?

Every now and then you twitched, and instinctively Jason reached out to you. He took his time, gingerly running the back of his finger across your bruised cheek. Brushed the hair from your face. Your skin was still cold.

How could he make you warm? How could he get rid of the cold?

He could still remember that cold, and he wondered where Joker had tortured you. Most likely not where Jason had been beaten with a crow bar, but his memory still dragged him back there. To that abandoned wing. The cold tiles. The dirt and grime and darkness. The laughter and weapons and tools...

Jason clawed his way back to the present only to be greeted with the full impact of the grief that came with the fact that Joker had done to you what had been done to him.

And Jason hated it.

With the lump in his throat and pain in his chest, he rose from the seat and quickly left your room.

He was glad you were asleep. At peace for the time being before awakening and having to deal with it all. He was glad that you were asleep so you couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

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appleblueberry-pie · 6 months

Note

OOOHHHH, OKAY HERE MY REQUEST FOR YANDERE MILE MORALES SCENARIO! I imagine him being the type of guy to break into the reader's locker and leave a CD(the song is probably cheesy like Radiohead-creep) while leaving a sticky note like “I really, really, like you. And I wanna get to know you more, can you meet at [insert abandoned building here] ❣️”~secret admirer (*cough* it's Miles *cough*) This freaks the reader out, cuz they've been dealing with this bs for 3 months and the authorities can't do shit, can I request the reader confronting their “secret admirer”? 🥺

N/A: I hope you heard me evilly laugh when I first read this. Boutta spill all of my delusions on this. Also i've never written worse luck than the reader had in this one.

Be Mine? Yes or No.

It's about ten minutes before first period begins and you've already spent five of them rereading the 20th love letter you've received over the course of a few months. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you continue to find more and more things to worry about in this letter. You'd think that this person would stop pestering you, but they really weren't. At all whatsoever. The same little sweet names they'd compliment you with. The same main idea they had in the previous note continuing into the next one. This has been happening over and over.

And it was so, so sweet when this fiasco first started. When you first opened your locker and it was placed so nicely in the center as if someone carefully placed it there. It was definitely spritzed with some kind of cologne, because no scent from someone just rubs off onto a letter like that. The beautiful envelope it was put in, the paper on the inside. The neat handwriting that was clearly practiced just to put some love onto the paper for you to hopefully absorb. And it worked the first three times, but it just kept getting weirder from there.

The way they wrote to you was extremely genuine, something that was hard to find in relationships nowadays. It really made you want to meet this person. They mixed in casual sweet names in Spanish into the writing in a way that wasn't hard for you to understand at all. They definitely had a crush on you. But then they began mentioning you in ways that seemed to make you borderline uncomfortable. Mentioning your beautiful hair, your eyes, your lips, the way you spoke, how you smelled. How they'd watch you and your friends in the park. Slipping in a few mentions of you walking to and from a corner store nobody in your school but you knew about.

They would write about how they could help you with specific classes that they knew you were struggling with. What foods they theorized you don't like(they were right), your type of man and how they fit that exact description, if not, more. How he knows he's the one you'd want and need. How the two of you are meant to be, he'd love you the way you need to be loved and he cant wait to actually meet you. How he'd bring you to the address of your favorite breakfast spot that no one should know about and he'd buy you that plate you always wanted to get that you couldn't afford. How he'd spoil you and-

All of this tension he built up on his own, which was all fueled by his own delusions, drew you to the conclusion that this nigga needed to be put in his place. You wanted a boyfriend. Not a fucking perverted stalker. Whoever this was, he was taking it too far, and was ultimately scaring you. It took you fifteen of these letters for you to realize that he wasn't actually slipping the letter into the locker between the cracks, but he was putting in the real code of your lock to properly unlock it. How he found it out, you have no idea. You didn't know what this guy was capable of and didn't know if he'd hurt you if you said no. But it had to be done somehow or he'd take shit too far and kidnap you or some crazy shit like that.

None of the school officials would help you because they're pieces of shit. Your friends tell you to bag him like dumbasses, and what the fuck are your parents gonna do? Yell at the dean and stand by your locker all day to wait for the guy?? You were all alone in this. So the most reasonable thing you came up with is to bluntly write to him to meet you after school at the park you and your friends go to often since he knows the spot already.

And quite literally the day after, you sat at the bench at the park after school, and he showed up.

You remember being so damn scared. What if he was big and burly and angry? What if he was one of the popular boys and would record the entire interaction? What if he follows you back home? What does he plan to do once you try to tell him off? You shouldn't have done this. The setting sun wasn't comforting you. The abandoned playground that usually was bustling with squealing kids was just making you more nervous. It was silent and cold today, but your mind just wouldn't shut up. Suddenly, the school uniform you wore wasn't as comfortable and you clutched your backpack closer to your body.

The wind blew gently on your bare knees and you heard someone call out your name. You flinched and felt your heart drop and turned to see the source of the voice, hoping for the worst. There was a boy sitting on a bench right next to yours. He was staring at you. It made you feel....unsettled and something else you couldn't put your finger on. To calm yourself, you listed his characteristics in his head. He was....reasonably attractive. Light brown eyes. Sculpted face. A light Spanish accent to his voice exactly how you'd imagine. Neat braids on his head. But something about his aura messed with you. He wasn't as good as he portrayed himself to be. You didn't want to speak and watched him stand from his spot to sit next to you on your bench. You clutched your bag to your chest as you watched him try to calmly approach you without making you too nervous.

With nervous eyes on him, he sits down next to you, letting a small smile grace his lips. "Hey, ma...how you doin'?" He sounded like he was trying to lure a scared dog into his arms. But it was awkward because he was trying to act normal with his dream girl and it was an actual human being and not a dog. "....fine." You respond. He scratches his nape and averted his eyes for a quick second. He really wanted to know why you wanted to talk to him. You gave no context within your letter, and it was a blessing, nonetheless. You actually responded to him. He predicted that he wouldn't get one for another good three weeks to two months almost. But this must be serious. He prepared himself for all possible scenarios that this could end up being.

"So....why'd you want to meet all of a sudden? It's getting late and I don't want you going home in the dark, you know?" You nod and take a deep breath, scared as fuck for how this could end. "Yeah.....so....I just wanted to tell you that I just- I don't want to be with you." It felt like you had to pull the words out of your throat for him to hear. You saw his face drop and decided to explain before he did anything else. "Like....I don't know you. I just realized that. You know so much about me and about my friends and the places I go to. I don't know a damn thing- Are you stalking me??" You turn to face him and stare into his wide eyes. He almost seemed as if he was caught doing some weird shit. And it was weird.

The silence started to make you angry when you realized he probably has been following you all this time. He shakes his head and sits up. "No...no, I haven't been stalking you at all, ma, I promise. I never want to make you uncomfortable, ever. Where are you getting that?" Oh, so now he's gaslighting you. If you brought all of his envelopes to this meeting, you would've dumped all of the evidence on his lap. You roll your eyes, grab your bag, and stand to leave. He stands at the same time as you when he sees you're trying to leave and stands in your way. "Wait, wait, wait, that's it? You not gon' give me a chance?" "A chance? Nigga, you lost your chance when you started being weird and fucking acting like you wasn't being weird this entire time!"

It was hard to get mad at you or reason with you. You were too pretty to get mad at even when you were nearly yelling in his face. And he had no logical reason to behave the way he was behaving, either. So, he might lose you unless he does something risky. And to risk your trust and love is something he doesn't want on the line.

You watch him watch you leave and he picks up his bag as well. The street lights turn on once it gets dark enough and Miles interrupts you walking away. "I'm not letting you walk home in the dark, Y/n." You flinch at his voice and growl a groan in fuming anger. An older lady passes the both of you and praises the mystery boy for being such a good gentleman and how 'there needs to be more of you out on these streets'. You almost slapped the fuck out of her for even hyping him up. He gives her a beautiful smile and tells her to get home safe, while walking you in the direction of your home.

He turns back to you and almost laughs at the face you're making. "I wonder how your mom would feel about you going home in the dark." "Mind yo fucking business." He happily leaves it there, continuing to walk with you down the street. Maybe this way, he can have more than one excuse to continue walking you home from now on. "Ion even know yo name." You mutter under your breath and Miles smiles at you. "My name is Miles. Great to finally meet you in person, Mami." You scoff and gladly let him scroll on his phone. You tried to speed ahead of him in hopes he'd stay at his slower pace, but he always caught up to you. You inwardly groan, knowing he'd probably make it to your door before you get rid of him.

"Glad to know the name of the person who's been stalking me. Now I can report you officially." You smirk at him and he gives one right back. "Just a name won't cut it, ma." "I got photos." "Where?" He hands you your phone back and you snatch it, realizing he was scrolling on your phone the whole time AND deleted your photo evidence. Before you can shove him into the street for a car to run him over, your mom bursts the door open and eyes the boy next to you. "Girl, you finally brought someone home with you." You didn't even realize you were on your street, better yet, your house. And your mom liked him already??

Your face dropped as you approached the front door. "No, no, no, it's not like that-" "What's your name, sweetie?" Miles steps up to the door and holds out his hand for her to shake, a beaming smile on his face. "My name is Miles Morales, ma'am." She shakes his hand before scrunching her eyebrows. " 'Morales'? You know Rio??" "That's my mamá, right there." Horrifying, how quickly a new relationship between the two bloomed right before your eyes as they continued to converse.

How are you going to get out of this? Your stalker is making great friends with your mom, no one can help because he deleted the evidence, and you would soon find out the next morning at school that your locker was clean of envelopes as well. Nothing was working in your favor and you realized that there was no way to escape. He included himself into your life so easily, when you wanted him out, out, out. You hated this shit, but he seemed to love it, sending you a look of appreciation as you both stepped into your abode.

Miles was so grateful for having you as a part of his life. The stars aligned and allowed you both a chance at beauty and growth. He wouldn't let this opportunity waste away like he had done many times in the past. You were his chance at redemption for all of the things he had done and the things that he planned to do later on. You were finally his.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles x reader #42 miles #yandere earth 42 miles morales x reader #yandere earth 42 miles morales #yandere miles morales #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #yandere miles x reader #yandere miles morales x reader

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jenchan-writingmultis · 3 months

Text

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

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A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy. Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

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SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state, he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face. His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

#love and deepspace #l&ds rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #lnds xavier #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #lnds x reader

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