#i just barely scraped the iceberg here

[sanguineterrain]

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks. 

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 

“I got dumped,” you say. 

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand. 

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don���t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 50: A Relic of a Finale

"Well, I think you got this."

Before Julian and Cassandra was the entryway to the arena. The finals were today. The thunder axe was resting neatly in Cassandra's hands. A slight hum was radiating off it to her, and Julian didn't comment, in spite of his hatred of that sort of noise. So was the weapon communicating? Did it know something's up?

"You think I should charge up for the start?"

"Set expectations high." Julian said, looking into the arena before returning a soft smile to Cassandra.

The announcer's voice started ringing through the halls as Cassandra stepped into the arena. The rows closest to the stalls were empty, probably a safety precaution on Zach's behalf.

"Well, everybody, We've had a great run here at the tournament, and all of the participants are winners in my eyes. But the higher ups said that wasn't a valid answer. So today is the big question with a big twist! The well known and well studied princess of Vannana against the amnesiac powerhouse from a small scouting ship! Willow Vannana against Cassandra Torres!"

Cassandra built up energy in the axe. It felt ready to burst at the slightest of impacts, and her eyes locked with Willow, her glare cutting through her, with cold vapour dripping off the tip of the spear. It was pretty obvious that the finals today were a battle of wills. Redemption against punishment. Achieving greatness against being born into it.

When they locked eyes, Cassandra's weapon started tingling even more. And before Cassandra could theorize what was happening, the axe began talking again.

"Einer!" Was the single word beamed directly into her head.

Einer? What was that? A name? Was the weapon telling her it's name now?

"Begin!"

Before Cassandra could think about the weapons name, Willow was already running up to her. She stopped dead in her tracks a short while away from her, plunging the spear into the ground. Ice eurpted from the tip to the edge of the arena, and Cassandra was forced to slash forward with all the electricity she had built up, destroying most of the ice that was just created in front of her. When the vapour dissipated, Willow was gone. A shadow stood over Cassandra, and when she looked over, Willow was the source, hanging off an iceberg at the end of her previous pile, leaping down on Cassandra, who was forced to block. Willow quickly jumped off her, stabbing the ground to create another heap of ice. Cassandra charged up energy in the axe while Willow hid amongst the icebergs, all the while it still seemed to be talking.

"Einer, where are we?"

The sounds reverberated through her head. The axe didn't know where it was? But there was an energy to Cassandra's left, hiding between the ice. She swung the electricity at it, cleaving the ice with a mighty swing. Willow's shadow fell to the right, so Cassandra kept up the offensive. She swung at the axe, watching as it fell. Willow was forced out of the shadows, jumping straight at Cassandra. She charged the spear with enough energy to trap her once the tip hit the arena, barely scraping past Cassandra's face. The ice erupted behind her, jutting out between her legs and arms, forcing her to drop the axe. But when the axe hit the floor, a jolt of electricity burst from the axe, shattering the ice once again. The jolt hit Willow's legs, and she tried holding onto the spear as the electricity surged through her body. Cassandra dove for the axe, and began charging a small amount of electricity as soon as she laid hands on it. She heaved her axe upwards with all she had, and the vertical jolt smacked Willow straight in the face.

Willow was pushed back, planting her spear into the ground in a bid to stay upright. She charged once again, spinning her spear into Cassandra's side, who barely managed to block. She swung her weapon as Willow made a second attempt, particles of ice shooting towards her while a second weak jolt flew by Willow's head. Willow pushed further, but that led to both weapons flying out of each others hands.

Their eyes locked for a brief second, before both parties scrambled to get their own weapons. As Cassandra picked the axe up, another message was heard.

"Einer, that was so cool!"

Wait, was Einer the name of the spear? The weapons know each other?

Then she remembered. The axe didn't fight back in Saoloro because it didn't want to hurt the bow. So were these weapons alive? Did they somehow know each other?

Willow charged forward with her spear while she was thinking, and Cassandra moved to her side, hitting her with the side of the axe. Willow flew away, dashing back towards her without a second to recover as soon as she could regain her footing. She flew past Cassandra, who just felt more cold vapour pass by her nose. She snapped back to see what Willow was doing, and she flashed a smile as she stabbed the spear downwards. An iceberg erupted from the ground, and Willow clung to the top of it. The iceberg peaked over the top of the arena, casting a shadow on the box of the announcer, who was sitting in stunned silence. The people below it were moving out of the way, while a couple others began to politely flee the arena. Cassandra charged the axe with electricity, swinging with every ounce of strength she could muster. The weapon released a jolt that quickly melted the ice to water. As the top chunk of the iceberg fell to the stands, Willow jumped down again, spawning a chunk of ice at the tip of her spear, and Cassandra barely managed to block the attack, the ice getting embedded in her eye.

This was it. The ice was melting in the hot sun. If this didn't end now, they'd be covered in water. Water that Cassandra could electrify or that Willow could freeze for the extra advantage. Both exchanged a look from a different side of the arena, waiting for the other to make a move. Cassandra saw the vapours off Willow's weapon, and Willow saw the jolts firing off Cassandra's. Cassandra took a step forward, and Willow did the same, with both eventually running at top speed. Cassandra put everything she had into this final swing, and Willow stretched an arm back for a straight stab.

Both unleashed their strikes at the same time, their weapons clashing in the air. Cassandra shut her eyes as the impact hit her hands and shook to the rest of her body. Willow wasn't letting up, starting to make the air around her colder as the clash lingered. Cassandra tried letting out electricity to end it, creating a stream that shocked both of them. Eventually, a cracking noise was heard.

And Cassandra fell to the ground. Before she could open her eyes, a second thud noise was heard a few steps away from Willow.

When Cassandra opened her eyes, she saw both weapons on the ground, or at least what was left of them. Both had the tops of their weapons snapped off the staffs, and a glowing light was emerging from them. The light eventually dissipated, with two people lying in the middle of the arena. The smaller one looked up at the arena around them, and then to the taller one.

"Einer, where are we?"

[hjbender]

Hey, I've been reading The Little Frost Troll and to admit, there has never been a anything more wholesome and beautiful as this And I had this question I've been wanting to ask you. You see, I've been imagining Canon Thor and Loki suddenly thrown into an alternate reality travel (I don't know how but I'll leave that to your imagination) and came across this reality, which is The Little Frost Troll story. What do you think would happen if Thor and Loki met the Thor and Loki of this reality?

First: thank you! It makes me so happy to hear you’re enjoying that sweet and wholesome (well, wholesome until the sex drive turned on) story. 😊

Second: holy troll-y I’d never thought about what might happen if Canon Thor and Loki met TLFT Thor and Loki and I am intrigued! 🤩

I bet Troll Loki would be in awe of his “tall, beautiful Æsir” version, which is ironic because I headcanon that Canon Loki has serious issues with his body image and self-esteem after it was revealed he was a Frost Giant in Thor (2011). And even though he shows Troll Loki his true skin (“I’m not Asgardian, see?” he murmurs), it still doesn’t matter. Troll Loki instantly adores his “cousin”.

“You’re so beautiful!” he gushes, tail wagging and hands clasped together under his chin. “And you can do magic! Will you teach me?”

Canon Loki looks down at this sweet little creature and his heart aches. This version has learned to love himself, has made peace with who and what he is. Perhaps he can, too.

I imagine them wandering off together, talking about their lives and their cruel fathers and being misfits, feeling like they don’t belong anywhere, redemption, sorcery, personal doubts, how they each deal with problems related to their heritage, maybe shedding a few tears together.

And meanwhile both Thors are standing to the side and having an amicable conversation that may sound like: 

“So… do you love your Loki as much as I love mine?”

“Twice as much.”

“Impossible. No one can love anything more than I love my Loki.”

“One can now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Aye, really.”

After a challenging scowl, the two slowly smile at one other, grasp each other’s arms in unified Loki Loving™ truce, and are bros forever after. 💪❤️

[reflectingchaos]

          oof,      idk.      I   really   want   to   be   here   but   I   also   feel   like   shit   and   might   just   sleep   for   a   bit.      I   know   I’m   behind   on   my   inbox,      but   if   anyone   wants   to   send   some   low-pressure   stuff,      that’d   be   cool.      memes,      or   headcanons,      or   drabble  prompts,      idk   anything.      but   also   don’t   feel   obligated   since   I  know   I   owe   all   of  you   a   ton   of   shit.      thank   you   to   those   bearing   with   me,      it’s   just   been   so   crazy   busy   on   the   farm   lately.      we   have   tons   of   shit   needs   fixing,      a   tree   that   fell   behind   the   barn   that   still   needs   cutting   up,      we   don't   have   nearly   enough   firewood,      it’s   just   everything   at   once.   everything   at   once.   I'm   sorry   that   I'm   not   here   nearly   as   much   as   I   want   to   be.      if   any   of   you   all   ever   wanna   just   chat   about   our   muses,      I’m   almost   always   down   for   that   even   if   I   don’t   have   the   muse   for   writing.

[harryspet]

a long way down [1] b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, dark steve x reader, dominant/submissive, thoughts of suicide, lots of violence, death, heavy angst, zombies, the walking dead au, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage (handcuffs), reader is a little (very) helpless, spanking, breeding kink (wear protection please)

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ ‘s title prompt game!! As you can see, my title was “a long way down”. This gave me the opportunity to write the apocalypse au I’ve been putting off. It was supposed to be a drabble but I apparently can’t read because this turned into a long ass one-shot. TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which the dead are walking, you belong to Bucky, and you stumble upon Steve’s settlement.  

series masterlist

word count: 6k

The first time you met Bucky, he saved your life. He saved yours and then made you take another. 

You had locked yourself in an abandoned gas station for the night. You had spent so many days running, walking further and further from your home. It was the first night in weeks that you let your guards down a little. The station had been ransacked completely but you managed to scrape a small meal of what people left behind as undesirables. It tasted heavenly. 

You had actually fallen asleep knowing you weren’t going to die. You fell asleep knowing you could sleep the full eight hours. 

When you awoke on the surprisingly comfortable tile floors, your worry returned abruptly. You could see through the windows that they had gathered in the parking lot. You slowly approached the windows, holding a kitchen knife tightly in your hands. 

You were still wearing the blue sundress from the family barbecue you were attending before the world ended, a combat jacket you found tied around your waist. The knife belonged to the Robinson’s, a family of four, that you watched all die before your eyes. 

They were the tip of the iceberg. You watched your own family die in the next few weeks and then all the members of the small group you were a part of. You should've known better than to stop running. Everyone you knew died because they got pinned somewhere and the walkers overtook them. 

One of the walkers noticed your slight movement and focused on you. It limped towards the window of the front of the store and you took a cautious step back. You kept still for a moment, hoping not to attract anymore but the one walker seemed to signal the rest of his friends. 

This entire town was deserted of walkers when you arrived yesterday and now it seemed to be overrun with them. You had a feeling that a herd might be passing through. You ducked behind one of the many food shelves and kneeled down. You were going to wait it out until they passed through town and realized there was no one here for them to eat.

That was the plan until more started to swarm the gas station, their moaning and groaning became even louder. Your hands were shaking as the sound of the pounding began to deafen you. You couldn’t help but consider what you would do if they broke through the glass. If you slit your own wrist and bled out then you wouldn’t feel them tearing you limb from limb. 

The back door had been barricaded too heavily for you to get through. Besides, you’d most likely meet another crowd of walkers going that way. 

You held the knife shakily, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, as you tried to stop yourself from thinking that way. 

Abruptly, your eyes shot open as gunshots rang in the air nearby. One pierced through the front window, sending glass shattering to the floor. You didn’t recognize them as gunshots at first, you thought walkers had finally broken through but, as you peaked around the shelf, you found yourself dead wrong. 

Through the window, you saw a man moving like a shadow, firing his pistol and precisely hitting several of the walkers through their skulls. He was mesmerizing, a killing machine, and a force of energy that was foreign to you. He moved swiftly enough to dodge the blood-hungry demons that lunged for him and strong enough to knock them down and stab them through the skull before they could stand again. 

He was killing them all. 

You noticed the glint of a metal-like substance as your wide eyes admired his left arm. You were staring so intently that you hadn’t noticed a walker had crept its way inside and set its sights on you. 

You scrambled backward, fumbling with the knife in your hand as you struggled to point it at the monster. You stood, still backing away, as he moved closer. She was an elderly woman, her body decayed, and carrying a horrible stench. The necklace around her neck was shaped like a heart. It looked like the kind that contained pictures of a loved one. 

You couldn’t help but sympathize, couldn’t help but make up excuses for why you couldn’t do it. Why you couldn’t be brave. Before you could hesitate any longer, a sharp knife pierced through the woman’s skull and she collapsed before. 

You stared at the shadow of the men, his towering figure, and, although his eyes were a blue crystal, they were dead.

“Are you blind or deaf?” He asked you, his voice as dark as his appearance. 

You only shook your head, words not daring to leave your mouth. The man looked around the rest of the rest stop, probably noting there were barely any supplies before he sighed. He didn’t understand how you could let yourself get in such a sticky position and then not even be able to handle yourself against one of them.

“Do you have supplies?” He asked next. 

You hesitantly raised a finger towards your backpack resting beside one of the shelves, “Not … not much. I just … I-I just wanted to sleep,” He noted your appearance, the insufficient and dirty clothing as well as the bags around your eyes. You were a suburban girl who was clearly out of her element, “Thank you,” You added quickly. 

He didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, “I need medical supplies,” He stated firmly. 

“I, uhm, I have some alcohol and bandages-”

“Grab your bag, let’s go,” Your eyes seemed to widen even more as the man turned away from you. 

“W-What?” You stuttered over your words, “I don’t  … I don’t know you. I’ll give you the-”

Bucky turned back, clearly annoyed, “You want to stay alone when you can’t even properly use a knife?”

You looked down at the knife in your hand. It was clean of any blood, “I was going to use it ... “

He scoffed, “What's your name, doll?”

“Y/N,” You answered, still trying to keep calm. 

“Bucky,” He stated, making a move to leave once again, “You coming or not?”

You had to make a decision then. Risk life in the apocalypse alone or hope this man could protect you. What he wanted in return other than bandages, you weren’t sure yet. You huffed, deciding to grab your backpack and follow him outside. 

You had to admit that you weren’t cut out for this life. You weren’t even sure how you had made it this far. 

You stepped over the bodies of at least ten walkers as you stepped into the parking lot. Bucky walked toward an abandoned red truck sitting by one of the gas pumps. You watched him curiously as he discovered a walker strapped into the passenger seat. It couldn’t untangle himself from the seatbelt and was trying to throw itself out of the window. 

It started to moan and growl as the two of you approached. You thought he was pulling out the pistol to put it out its misery but Bucky turned to you, holding the gun out to you, “Take it.”

“I don’t want-”

“Take it,” He stated more firmly, little patience in his eyes. You raised a shaky hand, taking it into your grip, “Hold it tight.”

To your surprise, the man came behind you, gently grabbing your arm as he showed you the proper way to hold it, “W-Why do you want me to do this?” You asked shakily. When you tried to lower it, you pushed your arms up.

“You’re going to kill it,” You turned your head, your eyes wide, “I’m not bringing you with me if you can’t even kill a walker.”

You looked at the walker again, noting the uniform he was wearing was that of a mechanic. He used to have a job, a life, probably a family, “I can’t,” You protested, “I can’t.”

“You can do it. You will do it. No one is in there, Y/N,” Bucky spoke calmly, his voice lower than you expected, “You’re doing him a favor. At least let the man’s body be free.”

Bucky let go of you after your hands were in the correct position. He noticed your shaky grip, the fact that your body was clearly going into panic mode. You hoped he didn’t notice the tears stinging in your eyes. You imagined the man’s wife and the man’s family. Would they care that you didn’t leave him be? 

Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your trance, “Do it.”

You closed your eyes and fired. Silence echoed around you like the force of the gun knocked you back a step. When you slowly opened your eyes, the man’s brains were splattered on the back of his seat. 

“We’ll have to work on keeping your eyes open when you fire. You got lucky,” Bucky grabbed the gun from you, holding it down by his side. 

All you could do was stare at what you’d done. You shouldn’t be able to play God in this way. Monster or not, it all felt wrong, “ … I’m sorry,” You whispered to the man and to whatever family that was out there.

Bucky looked you over. He’d never met someone so afraid of killing. He was a killing machine before and after the dead rose from their graves. He saw your heartbreaking as reality was finally hitting you after all this time. You were realizing that you were nothing special, that this was your fate and everyone was eventually going to end up like the man in the truck. 

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line, “I’m afraid it’s a long way down from here.”

+

Bucky’s latest homestead was a Motel 6 more than forty miles away from the gas station. Your mother had warned you about guys who rode motorcycles and you imagined she was rolling over in her grave now that you were on the back of Buckys. Luckily, you didn’t encounter any more packs of walkers but Bucky insisted you hurry because a pack was sure to follow after all the gunshots. 

“The shower works,” Bucky spoke absentmindedly, setting a duffel bag on the single bed. He seemed to have collected a lot of supplies before he even ran into you, “Water’s cold but you can still use it.”

You nodded, clutching your backpack tightly, as you crossed the room. Bucky watched your backside as you slipped into the dirty bathroom. 

What the hell were you doing? You were in a tiny motel room with a complete stranger. Now you were getting naked behind a door and you had no idea of his expectation especially since there was only a single bed. 

You shook your head, setting your bag down on the sink. You pulled off your jacket and then lifted your dress above your head. You looked over your body, your sunken in features, and your shrinking figure. You reached to touch your face only to jump at the sound of a knock at the door. 

“Do you need a change of clothes?” He asked you and you froze for a moment. You looked at your tattered blue dress. “A verbal answer, preferably.”

“Y-Yes, please,” You answered, cracking the door so he couldn’t see you in your underwear. Bucky handed you the pile of cloth and you gave a weak smile as you closed the door back. Looking back in the mirror, you let out a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding. 

You set the clothes down before turning on the shower. You took the time to clean yourself and some of your items as well. You thought maybe you could get the blood and dirt out of your dress and it would remind you again of happy times. You set it out to dry on the towel rack. 

The clothes he gave you consisted of a plain black t-shirt that fit way too big for you. As you searched for more, you realized that it was all he had given you. It fit like a dress but you couldn’t help but wonder if his mind was elsewhere. You grabbed your backpack and jacket before exiting the bathroom. 

You found that he had made himself comfortable, the gray shirt he was wearing was tight enough to illuminate his muscles as well as the metal arm. He was cleaning his knife when he looked up to see you standing awkwardly. 

“Come here,” Again, he spoke like you were a minuscule thought in his mind. You took a few steps closer. “Are you going to prance around me like a baby doe for the rest of this relationship?”

You scoffed this time, “I’m sorry … this is new.”

Bucky didn’t seem like he was willing to wait for you to catch up to him. Things were now or never with him, “Set your things down,” For a moment, you questioned why you were following this man blindly, and then another part of you remembered what he was capable of. 

Even without a threat of violence, Bucky noted your submissiveness. Your innocence could be a burden but maybe a blessing in disguise as well. 

He grabbed your hand, pulling you in between his legs and you looked down at him with frightened eyes. He stilled your shaking hand with his strong one, “Should we go over how things are going to work between you and me?”

It was rhetorical but you nodded slowly. 

“It’s simple. You do as I say and I won’t leave you for dead,” You understood but it was much harsher when he put it in his own words. Looking at him, you couldn’t help but notice his handsome features. The killing had blinded you to it before but now you could see it with full exposure, “You use that gun when the time comes and it will come. I don’t want to have to put you out of your misery if you get bitten.”

“I don’t know how-”

“I’ll teach you, doll,” He declared. You yelped as he suddenly grabbed your waist, flipping you onto the bed and pinning you beneath him, “A helpless thing like you should know how to protect herself.”

Bucky searched your face, calculating before his head dipped into the crook of your neck. His beard scratched your skin as he placed kisses along the sensitive skin. 

“Bucky!” You struggled beneath him but you felt the strong metal of his hand press you further into the mattress, “Bucky, please.”

You felt so weak beneath him and you hated that warm feeling he sent through your body. You gritted your teeth as he kissed your chin and then his lips grazed yours, “I saved your life, Y/N, it’s the least you could do.”

You shook your head as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard, desperate, and you felt all the pent up frustration in his body. You could finally breathe when he pulled away, only for him to take soft bites of the skin on your cheek and then your ear. 

“Bucky,” Your voice came out in a whisper. 

“I’ll be gentle,” He assured you, “It’ll feel better if you don’t struggle.”

He was right. As soon as you stopped trying to push him away, your tired body thanked you for it. 

Your first night with Bucky, he made sure to lay down his claim. He saw no use in trying to get to know you. You were his and you’d learn to like it. He saved your life after all. 

Bucky lifted your shirt, pulling off your panties. He stilled your shaking leg and a shiver went through you as the weapon he called a hand, wrapped around your thigh. He kissed down your body, over your stomach before his head dipped between your legs. 

You didn’t expect to cry out in ecstasy that night. You didn’t expect to feel anything at all but, although Bucky didn’t give you a choice, you started to feel human for the first time in a while. This sort of intimacy and pleasure was a rare commodity and part of you wanted to welcome that comfort.

You gripped the motel sheets tightly as he brought you over that cliff. He seemed to savor your pleasure and you expected him to force himself inside you next but he simply told you, “Go to sleep, doll.”

The dark stranger held you tight the whole night. 

+

The next few months passed quicker than you expected. Every day you were alive was a blessing but you couldn’t help but think that you didn’t deserve it. 

You traveled the country with Bucky, finding homestead after homestead to stay in. Inevitably, a crowd of walkers would ruin your plans or you’d run into groups of scavengers, humans who killed just as much as walkers. 

Bucky taught you how to properly use a gun as well as a knife. You practiced aiming in forest clearings and pretty soon you could handle your own. You considered leaving him but the stranger seemed to open up to you more as the weeks went on. You learned he was in the military and that was how he lost his arm. You figured he was some type of government agent before the dead rose. That was the only way you could explain the arm. 

You let yourself grow attached to him and you assumed that he did too. 

You told him about the small town you grew up in and your privileged life in suburbia. You had traded your sundress for jeans, a band t-shirt, one of Bucky’s combat jackets and black boots. 

You enjoyed the wind in your hair as you rode together with Bucky across the state lines. You were meant to be his extra eye but you couldn’t help that your mind wandered sometimes. Dreams of a better world comforted you. 

You were on a long road, traveling through an evergreen forest when Bucky’s motorcycle abruptly skidded to halt. You looked ahead and, fifty feet ahead, was a makeshift barricade of rusted cars, “What is it?” You asked in a whisper and Bucky shushed you. 

He dismounted the bike and you did the same. You took a small glance around the eerily quiet forest as Bucky approached the group of cars, “All the cars are dead. We can’t go through here,” You sensed the frustration in his voice as you pulled the map from your jacket pocket. You found the pen mark you last left that marked the area you two were trying to reach. 

“We can go back ten miles east and try a different road,” You spoke swiftly and Bucky nodded, turning back towards the vehicle. 

The scavengers came out of nowhere, several four-wheelers emerged from the tree line with armed men riding in them. They pointed their guns at the two of you as  A giant truck pulled into the road, causing you to be blocked on each side. 

Bucky was quick to grab his rifle, stepping in front of you and you pointed your pistol at one of the many scavengers. You heard Bucky curse under his breath as your panic began to set in. You glanced down at your feet and realized there was dry blood decorating the cement. This group used the blockade to ambush survivors and inevitably kill them. 

“Drop the weapons!” Shouted one of the burly men with his rifle pointed at us, “You’re outnumbered. Don’t make this hard!”

Bucky let the silence set in for a moment before letting his words cut through the thick tension like a knife, “Over. My. Dead. Body.”

Over yours too apparently. 

“Suit yourself,” The man agreed, his mouth opening to order his men to fire. 

He was interrupted by another voice though. One that clearly held more power than the man. He stepped out from the passenger side of the truck, jumping down with a revolver in hand. You noted his muscular stature and the fact that his long hair and beard reminded you of Jesus himself. 

“Hold your fire, Sam. Hold your fire!”

You noticed then the clothing of the men was way more decent than you expected. You noted bright colors and a lack of wrinkles. Clearly where these men came from there were heavy supplies. The man who looked like Jesus, who was clearly their leader, stepped forward with his revolver at his side. 

You noticed Bucky start to lower his rifle and something even more unexpected happened, the leader smiled at Bucky. His eyes wandered to you and the man’s smile widened even more, “Bucky,” The man spoke as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“Steve,” You looked to Bucky with wide eyes. 

They knew each other?

You still held your gun tightly, your eyes darting around at the group of scavengers who had now lowered their weapons. 

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You asked him.

“Lower your weapon, dollface,” The man named Steve said to you, “Your pal Bucky here is an old friend of mine.”

You looked to Bucky for permission and he slowly nodded. You lowered it at his command which Steve watched with a raised eyebrow, “This is your strategy, Rogers? Killing innocents and taking their supplies?”

“A lot has changed since we last saw each other. This is called adapting, my friend. Besides, we haven’t hurt you, have we?” You could tell there were years, perhaps decades, on their relationship. Steve looked at you and noted how you hid halfway behind Bucky, “Who’s this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky said quickly. 

Steve only raised his hands in defense, chuckling, “Fine, fine. You two look like you need some help.”

“We’re fine, just let us pass.”

“How much gas do you have left?” Steve asked like he knew something that we didn’t, “I can tell you now that my group has collected every drop of it in the surrounding hundred-mile radius. I wouldn’t want you guys to get stranded somewhere.”

“We have enough,” Bucky stated firmly though you knew he was lying. 

Steve sighed, “C’mon, Buck, I’m extending an olive branch. I control this area, traveling on it without my permission is just a guaranteed death sentence. We have a sanctuary nearby with lots of food, water, and shelter. Come with us.”

Bucky was silent for a long moment. You knew he was pretty much a lone wolf and disliked the idea of having to trust others with his safety. 

“We won’t stay.”

Steve slowly nodded, “Fine, then give me time to catch up with my friend. We’ll need your weapons for the time being. I have to look out for the safety of my people.”

+

“Welcome to Liberty.”

Bucky refused to give up his weapons until they actually arrived at the settlement. You both noted the impressive nature of the area Steve controlled. The area consisted of a suburban neighborhood surrounded by a tall, metal wall. They called it Liberty. 

You noticed the watched towers that held snipers who killed the walkers in the path of the trucks we were traveling in. The gate to the settlement and all of the cars filed in before the doors were shut. Bucky helped you out of the truck and you got a good look around. 

It was a complete Utopia. They had large fields for farming, their own source of water and electricity. You didn’t even think something like this was possible. 

You passed a few people and they looked at you like outsiders while they smiled and acknowledged Steve as their “Captain”. 

Steve offered to show the two of you around but Bucky only wanted to see where the two of you would stay. If Bucky was impressed by everything, he didn’t say anything, “As a sign of good faith,” Steve said, “You two are staying in my own humble abode.”

Humble was the wrong one. Steve had the biggest house to himself at the center of the neighborhood. It was two stories, a calming blue, and looked like it had at least five bedrooms. Steve showed you around the nicely furnished house and introduced the two of you to a blonde woman named Sharon. 

She offered the two of you sandwiches and Steven explained that Sharon worked in the infirmary. They didn’t seem to be affectionate but it was easy to assume that they were romantically involved. People took comfort wherever they could nowadays. 

Steve showed you yours and Bucky’s room on the second floor and he left the two of you to settle in, “How do you know him?” Was the first question that left your lips. 

“We were in the same unit overseas. Last time I heard of him, I was being discharged after losing my arm and he was being promoted.”

You felt he was leaving out details but he answered more than you expected anyway. 

The two of you were able to clean up after two weeks of traveling and no showers. They even had hot water here which you hadn’t felt since life was normal. They also left you new clothes and you were surprised to find a dress for yourself. 

You felt the fabric of the floral pattern and it reminded you of happier times. You liked it, you wanted to feel feminine after months of being covered in dirt and gunshot residue. As you slipped the dress on and finally drove a brush through your hair, you gazed at Bucky. He was buttoning a red flannel and you noticed how you could really see his face now that he had a chance to trim his beard. 

He looked … clean. Maybe a little more innocent than before. 

He slipped on his own jeans and boots before saying to you, “Stay here,” You grabbed his hand before he could walk out the door. 

“Do you trust him?”

“Enough,” He answered simply, “I trust him enough.”

He kissed your forehead before leaving you alone. 

+

“Have you fallen in love or something, Buck?”

Bucky paced the length of Steve’s office, his mind all over the place, “No,” Bucky answered, “Our relationship is just … mutually beneficial.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, his fingers running through his beard, “That’s how it is nowadays. I’m sure Sharon’s motivations include me being a better option than those savages who do my dirty work. And I’m not ugly, either.”

As Bucky didn’t respond to his humor, Steve continued, “What’s the nature of your relationship with Y/N? What’s in it for her?”

“I keep her alive.”

“And for you?” Bucky was silent because Steve already knew the answer, “Our relationship could also be mutually beneficial. As you can see, I have a lot to offer. I have a fucking empire, Buck. Weapons, land, you name it. If I don’t have it then surely one of my allies will.”

“And what can I offer you?”

Stever smirked evilly, “Her.”

“No.”

“I saw the way she looks at you. She’d do anything you said if you asked.

“Why?” Bucky asked, his muscles starting to tighten as the anger boiled inside of him, “You have women here, don’t you?”

Steve shook his head, “Not enough that are childbearing age,” Bucky understood. His friend was developing some sort of king complex, “I’ve been trying with Sharon for a while now and nothing. My allies refuse to trade theirs.”

“You want to bring a life into this world?”

“This is the safest place in the entire country. There has to be a point where we rebuild.”

“... Steve,” Bucky rubbed his temple. 

“I’m not trying to steal her away from you, Buck. She just has something I need. Something I would pay you handsomely for.”

+

“You’re very pretty,” Sharon said to you as she served another serving of salad onto your plate. She sat in front of you at the square table and the four of you ate dinner together, “Bucky is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” You smiled back at her, “Your home … your home is very beautiful.”

Sharon smiled, sipping at her cold glass of water. She looked to Steve who said, “We’ve made it our own, haven’t we?” He asked Sharon rhetorically, “We’d love it if you stayed a while, Y/N.”

Steve watched as you immediately looked to Bucky. After spending the day here, you did think it would be nice to stay but you were loyal to Bucky, “Well … I don’t think Bucky likes to follow other people's rules very much.”

Bucky was silent as he cut his steak, not even bothering to look at you. 

“That might be an understatement,” Steve chuckled, trying to break the tension, “You could always stay anyways … and we’d let Bucky come and go as he pleases.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion. You had the feeling again that Steve more than you. What made it worse was now you suspected everyone at the table knew more than you. 

You desperately wanted Bucky to say something. Anything, “I don’t know what use I’d be around here.”

“You could always help out in the infirmary,” Sharon said happily, “Our guys are always getting hurt out there.”

“I appreciate the offer but …”

“You’ll stay here,” You looked to Bucky with wide eyes, “You’ll be safe here.”

“And where will you go?” You asked quickly, your world starting to fall apart once again. 

“I have business elsewhere,” Was all he said. You could deal with his secretiveness before but not now, “I’ll be back when I’m done.”

Silence fell over the table for a moment before Sharon attempted to comfort you, “We’ll take care of you here, honey. There’s no need to worry.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m going with you. I don’t want to stay.”

“Y/N-”

Bucky was interrupted by Steve, “You will stay. The decision has already been made.”

You stood up abruptly, shaking the table, “I don’t even know you people!” You yelled back, turning to Bucky, “Please take me with you.”

“What did I just fucking say, Y/N?” 

It felt like you were being rejected. Like you were losing yet another person, “This is what you want, Bucky?” You crossed your arms, “You swear?”

“Yes, doll,” He reassured you, “This doesn’t change anything.”

You pushed your chair back, “This changes everything and you don’t even care,” You spoke, not bothering to look back, before storming out of the dining room. 

+

Bucky wasn’t telling you the truth, that much you knew. You sat on the bed in your new room with a heavy weight on your shoulders. You untied your hair from its ponytail and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to relieve some stress in your body. 

When the door opened again, you immediately said, “I’m sorry for yelling-” You stopped as you realized that it wasn’t Bucky who had followed you up. You stood up, noting how Steve’s body basically took up the entire door frame. If he was attempting to be less threatening, it wasn’t working, “What do you want?”

“I can tell Bucky loves you very much, you know. And I don’t think he’s loved a lot of things in his life.” You thought about it for a moment. You never thought what Bucky showed you was love. He was cold and unforgiving most of the time. Steve stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, “He cares for you but there are still some things he can’t give up yet. He’s a soldier. He’s always going to crave another mission and he knows he can’t bring the ones he loves into harm's way.”

You thought there was truth in his words. Perhaps you just didn’t want to lose your trust in Bucky. 

“What do you want from me?”

Steve sighed, “Well, I suppose you can’t just use my resources and offer me nothing in return.”

“Sharon said I could help her-”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, closing the gap between the two of you, “You’ll help her and you’ll help me.”

“With what?” You asked, and before he could grab you, you kicked his shin. Hard. 

Steve grunted in pain and as you tried to run past him, he grabbed your leg. You fell to your hands and knees abruptly, still trying to pull away from him, “Where are you going to run-” You kicked your leg out, nailing the Captain in his nose. 

Now, you had really made him angry. Steve groaned, still not letting go of your leg, “He taught you a lot … but don’t be delusional, sweetheart.”

Steve pulled you into his body, grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. You heard the jingle of metal before you heard it click around both your wrist. Steve pulled you up from the ground, bending your body over the bed. You tried to kick but he spread your legs with his feet. 

He pulled your dress up and easily ripped off your underwear. 

You screamed, calling for Bucky, “Bucky told me where you come from. Think about it, I’m offering you another chance at your old life. White picket fence, kids running around in the yard,” There was a sudden slap to your behind and a tear slipped down your cheek.

Steve thought you were gorgeous. A baby was not the only thing he wanted from you. He wouldn’t mind having a face like yours walking around the settlement. 

The blood from his nose dripped down to your bottom as he undid his belt and unleash his member. It was already hard, the excitement of the situation having caused it. 

He licked his hand, reaching down to fill between your legs, “Already wet. He didn’t tell me that you liked pain,” Steve landed another, harder slap to your bottom and you cried out. 

“Steve, please,” You begged, “I’ll do anything.”

“You will. You’re going to give me a baby, gorgeous,” He hit you again and you felt his tip press against your entrance. He impaled himself inside you, holding onto your cuffed wrist as he moved in and out of you. Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape, as you felt him take you over. 

As his pace quickened, you bit down on the comforter to keep the moans from escaping your lips. His hands move to your waist, pulling your body back against him, so you couldn’t escape his assault. The position you were in seemed to allow him to hit a very sensitive spot, one that had you gasping for air and crying out at the same time. 

Steve could tell your body like it. You were squeezing his cock hard and your body was writing on the bed before him. He felt it when you tightened around him as you reached your climax, “What a needy. Little. Thing,” He grunted before flipping your body over. The handcuffs dug into your skin but all you could focus on was him. 

His thrusts became even deeper as he leaned over your body. He kissed your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth before he made his final thrusts inside of you. The Captain moaned into your mouth as warmth filled you. 

He breathed heavily, emptying himself inside you as he kissed your tears. You were still shaking when he pulled out of you. As he let go of you, you weakly tried to crawl away. Steve walked around the bed, watching you like a predator watches its prey. 

He flipped you back over, grabbing your wrist as he pulled you further onto the bed. After that, he placed a pillow beneath your hips, elevating you. 

He leaned down to where your face is, brushing your hair away so he could see you clearly, “You learned to like Bucky, you’ll do the same with me.”

You had no words left for him. Your fate was sealed from now. 

In this new world, there was little room for compassion. This was what Bucky must’ve meant. This was the long way down. 

+

I hope you enjoyed this, I know it was long!! Part two is out!!

[thebrownssociety]

Bah Humduck Fanfiction

This idea came from @tuney-and-looney I may not have done it exactly, but the bare bones are there.

So this takes place after the scene at the end. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bugs smiled round at all the employees of the ‘Lucky Duck’ Superstore, happy to see that for the first time in a long time the employees were smiling. If it was up to Bugs he’d have liked to stay longer but it was getting late [or early depending on which way you looked at it] and one by one the employees were starting to drift back home.

“S-s-see you in a week, Mr Scrooge.” Porky said, smiling softly as headed out the door, taking an animated Priscella with him.

“Eh...oi better shove off.” Bugs said to Daffy. “Carols to sing and all dat jazz.”

Daffy  - who was in conversation with Speedy - gave him a ‘go away’ gesture and carried on talking. 

Bugs’s eyes narrowed but he took a deep breath and reminded himself that Daffy had made great progress already. Waving goodbye to the others he headed outside and took a deep breath of crisp, cool air. 

Just as he was about to set off someone bumped into him from behind. Bugs -  startled - clutched at the door and managed to stop himself from falling. He turned round, intending to give whoever was imposin’ on his personal space a dressing-down, but the words died in his throat.

It was Elmer. Elmer who looked terrible. His energy had, admittedly, been temporarily restored by Daffy’s change of heart and the thought of a holiday - a actual holiday! - but after working through the night his lack of sleep had caught up with him again. Thankfully by now he was used to it.

Bugs, on the other hand, was standing aghast. There were heavy bags under Elmer’s eyes and his eyes were bloodshot. In one hand he clutched the Hawaiian shirt  Daffy had giften him and the other was supporting his weight as he leaned against the door.

The longest-serving worker of the Lucky Duck peered at Bugs as if seeing him for the first time. “Hewwo...” he said, uncertainly.

“Hello.” Bugs said, raising an eyebrow. “Eh...you alright Doc?”

Elmer blinked and rubbed his eyes. “I’m going home.” He mumbled. “I’m gong to sweep.”

“Good idea.” Bugs agreed, stepping out the door so Elmer could get through. “You sweep - er, sleep. Is it a long walk?”

It took a few moments for Elmer to process the question but finally he replied. “No. I’m dwiving. My caws awound hewe somewhere...” And he looked out at the snow-covered lumps that were once cars. “...I think.”

Seeing as Bugs didn’t have a timeframe or, indeed, any actual family to get back to, he helped Elmer find his car. It took a while mainly because Elmer was so tired he couldn’t remember anything about his car except the coulour. As all the cars were under about three foot of snow that was fairly useless information.

Eventually Bugs went back into the store and asked the other co-workers where Elmer’s car was.

Thankfully Sam Sheepdog noticed everything and was able to point out which car was Elmer’s, then helped Bugs scrape snow off of it. [Elmer was dozing lightly on the sidewalk by this point. Normally Bugs would be annoyed, but he made an exception.]

A short while later and the car was ready to go. Bugs had managed to extract the keys from Elmer and had warmed the engine up so the car would actually run. He frowned and looked at the car, then at the roads. Icy.  Not impossible to drive on, but not great. Especially for someone already sleep-deprived. 

With a feeling of foreboding Bugs shook Elmer awake and said. “Eh..yer cars ready, Baldy.”

Elmer stuttered his thanks and stood up unsteadily, swaying on his feet. 

“Are ya sure you’ll be alright ta drive?” Bugs asked, concerned.

The human-toon waved Bugs’s concern away and stumbled towards his car and got in.

The rabbit sighed and went to set off. He hadn’t even made it out the parking lot when there was an abrupt crash and the sound of a horn beeping continuously.

Bugs legged it back to Elmer’s car, which had collided with the side of a wall. Working backwards Bugs assumed that the human-toon had pressed the accelerator to hard and gone skidding into said wall.

Elmer’s crash had also got the attention of the other employees, [those who were still there] and Daffy who all came trooping out to see what had happened. 

“What’sth happened?” Daffy asked, in genuine alarm.

Bugs glared at him. “He’s sleep deprived, you idiot, thanks ta you. Yer lucky he��s not seriously injured!”

Together Bugs and Daffy carefully extracted Elmer from the car and laid him on the ground.

“Isth he alright?” Daffy asked, in concern. “He doesn’t need the hospital?”

Bugs checked Elmer over. “Nah...he seems okay. Just needs a rest.” He looked pointedly at Daffy who had the good grace to blush.

A further examination of the car revealed it wasn’t actually badly damaged [although Elmer had hit the accelerator he hadn’t been going massively fast. He just had the misfortune to be parked next to a wall.] and was, in fact, still driveable. 

After another brief discussion it was agreed that Bugs would drive Elmer home [having got his address from Daffy] and make sure he didn’t die on the way up there.

Once Bugs had got Elmer settled in the car and popped his seatbelt on [safety first!] he started driving. After about a mile Bugs got bored and put the radio on.

Silent Night was playing. The rabbit smiled and sang along, softly so as not to wake Fudd. 

Eventually they made it to Fudd’s house and the rabbit was forced to wake his human companion up. 

Elmer started slightly and let out a yell before his eyes settled on Bugs and he seemed to recognise him.  “W-where am I?” He murmured looking around in alarm. 

Bugs explained what had happened and asked if Fudd was alright to walk. It soon transpired that Elmer was NOT okay to walk - nearly falling over multiple times from the short journey from the car to his front door - and Bugs, nabbing the keys of off him, opened the door and was instantly hit by icy cold.

“Sweet moither of carrots!” Bugs exclaimed, as icicles started forming on the end of his nose. “You plannin’ ta live in an iceberg or something? We should get Playboy Penguin here, he’d feel right at home!”

Elmer made a sound was half-agreement and half ‘go-away-you-annoying-rabbit.’

Bugs looked round and thought ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ [a British expression he’d heard from somewhere] He told Elmer to go upstairs and get into bed, seeing as he was shivering so much, and went about making the human-toon a cup of tea. He had to bang the kettle a few times to get it working but eventually managed it. 

When he went upstairs Bugs found the course of all the cold. The window in the bathroom was open so the rabbit went in and closed it. He assumed that Elmer had been so tired he had forgotten to shut it.

“Ya realise the window in yer bathroom was wide open? Yer lucky this is a good area. Oi’ve closed it, now-” Bugs handed the tea to Elmer. “Get dat down ya and you’ll hopefully feel better. You lookin’ forward to Hawaii?”

Elmer rubbed his eyes and nodded, sleepily. 

Bugs, seeing this, decided he better leave him to it and headed out the door, turning the light off as he did so. 

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

It Takes Two to Tango

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader 

Warnings: Language, guns, knives, violence, self destructive behavior, mentions of mania and depression, mentions of bipolar disorder, descriptions of tattoo guns, slight slut shaming maybe, a bong, allusion to corrupt government, mentions of prostitution, mentions of parental neglect, and mentions of piercings.

Word Count: 6.5k

Songs: Drew Barrymore- SZA, No Role Modelz- J.Cole, Baby Blue- Action Bronson, Little Dark Age- MGMT, Gansta- Kehlani, Shutter Island- Jessie Reyez, Good Days-SZA, King’s Dead, Kendrick Lamar, and Saint Bernard- Lincoln.

“Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango.”

A/N: Hold on tight a lot goes down and it’s not looking up anytime soon. 

Series Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part 

I was running faster than I’d ever had before the heels I had been trying on? Not helping my case. Since this is apparently my brand now I backed myself up onto the edge of the building. 

I had a gun trained on me.

“Come with us Y/N please,” 

“No! Who the fuck is Y/N?”

“Don’t play dumb ma’am we’ve done extensive research on you and we see you’ve done the same with us,” 

I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck you! I have no idea what you’re talking about and this is harassment,”

“You’re cornered there’s no way out,” 

The man wasn’t going to shoot me. No one would’ve come all the way out here and have chased me for this long when they had a gun if they were really planning on killing me. They would’ve done it already. And if this was who I thought it was I was not going with them. 

“Just come with us, we’re on your side, we’re not trying to hurt you,” That sounds exactly like someone who was going to hurt me would say.  

“Yeah says the man who has a gun aimed at me,” I rolled my eyes. 

“This is simply a safety precaution, just make this easier for everyone,” 

I looked back at him before making my decision. I was getting the hell out of here now. 

I bent backwards towards the street underneath me. Instead of free falling I put my hands behind me going into a backbend kickover grabbing onto the ledge. 

Using my legs as a propeller I launched myself closer to the wall. I’d gotten lucky and the walls had protruding bricks that I could scale. 

The man who I think was from SHIELD was hot on my tail. So I had to move fast. I scaled my way to the nearest balcony jumping into the pool in a leap of faith. 

I’d made it in thankfully. Guess my story wasn’t over.

Then I had to run. I was running down the streets. Thankfully this was New York and no one would bat an eye at someone who was drenched head to toe running down the street. They’d just pass me off as another nut job and go about their day. 

So much has happened I feel like this is an episode of shameless. You really were too busy to tune in last week you skank ass bitch? I almost died twice and I still managed to check in, whatever, just pay attention to the next clip. 

“So that building exploded and that loud siren noise I think I told you about was going off in my ears and when I left the plane with Vulture and Spidey were fighting by a crashed plane and Vulture put too much power onto his wings and they were gonna blow up. And I got mad like fucking top of the anger iceberg mad. So when I was like on the verge of blacking out like fucking fire came out of my hands and disintegrated those wings. Like they turned to ash before my very eyes. Then I had a panic attack of course and that’s pretty much it,” 

“Uh… I just called you here to tell you I found something about that SHIELD guy who came after but, I’m glad you’re okay,” Felicia told me.

“Sorry… I guess I got too excited,” 

“What'd you find?” I moved over to her in her spinning chair. 

“Look and see for yourself,” She moved out the way.

I sighed plopping down onto the small twin bed.

“I know what you’re doing,” I said, picking up a piece of popcorn. 

“What are you talking about?” Carmen asked as if she was genuinely confused. 

“You’re trying to trick me into eating and sleeping, which is totally not fair because if I want to wallow in self pity I should be able to,” 

“I know what happens when it gets bad and I’m not letting you get there again,”

I sighed again. She is always claiming that she sees herself in me and she wants me to be the best version of myself. 

She acts like since she’s one year older than me that she’s my mentor or something.

 Plus she also thinks I have an undiagnosed and untreated bipolar disorder so who’s to say everything else she says isn’t a lie also. 

We were watching a Wrinkle in Time and I knew I was going to cry when the girl’s dad came back. I always did and I didn’t want to cry today. 

“Wanna go do something?”

“Sure... Where are we going?” 

“Out,” 

I tried on a lot of Carmens clothes and ended up wearing the most extravagant outfit I’d ever worn. I felt extremely giddy for no reason in particular. I was wearing a puffy skirt and corset. We were walking about the streets of Brooklyn with no clear destination in mind just talking.

“I just find it funny that all you have to do to be famous on Tiktok is be white and skinny like smoke a cigarette in a subway station or some shit,”

“Why don’t we get famous?” 

“Now how would we get famous,” I poked. 

“I’m offended that you don’t think we could,” She stopped on the side of the street. 

“Gimme your phone,” She demanded in a kind way.

I plopped it into her palm. 

I’d honestly forgotten where I was for a second because I’d zoned out yet again. She put the phone back in my hand and she had made a Tiktok account for the both of us. 

She was only checking to see if I liked the account name because she took the phone right back afterwards.

I didn’t mind. 

“I should get a tattoo right?” I asked, putting another one of the chamoy gummy worms in my mouth. 

“How many do you have now?” 

“I think like twelve?”

“And that’s not enough for you?”

“Noo! I like the ones I have. I just want a bigger one.” 

“Then do it?” 

We were actually in walking distance of a tattoo parlour I just didn’t trust them. Never cheat on your nail tech or hairstylist and it goes the same for tattoo artists. 

Two subway rides later we were in Queens. I walked up to the front desk and was about to ask for my go to artist but she walked out the back room before I had the chance.

“Y/N, ‘s that you?” She asked. 

“The one and only,” I twirled around in my dress. 

“This dress is very different than your usual style but I can’t say I don’t love it,” She pulled at the fabric then glanced up her eyes, lighting up in recognition. She gasped “Is this Carmen?” 

I nodded “My bad lemme introduce you to each other. Carmen this is Enchantress and you already know Carmen apparently,” 

I’d played a Russian roulette sort of thing with my tattoo Pinterest board just clicking one with my eyes closed. Then there was the buzzing of the gun moving along my skin. Puncturing it in a way that felt extremely bittersweet. 

I never understood people who said tattoos hurt. I could always barely feel them. They felt like a simple scrape over your skin. Also at this shop they still give you the wrapping for your tattoo but it’s filled with ink still so you can move it around in the bubble. I like messing with the ink sack. I think that’s why I come here so often.

I was admiring the tattoo on my lower abdomen in the mirror when I was startled.  

“Wait!” Enchantress exclaimed, starling me “I just realized you got a piercing. Come here,” She beckoned. 

She turned towards me 

“It’s actually super straight, did you do this?” 

I opened my mouth to respond when Carmen answered for me.

“No, some girl did it for her in her school bathroom,” I really gotta stop telling her everything. She’s always snitching on me.

“I want to be mad but I can’t because it actually looks super healthy,” She titled my chin up to get a better view “However if it gets infected I’m beating your ass,” 

We exited the shop after I paid well, Carmen paid but I’ll pay her back. There was a pretty hefty discount too, because Enchantress loved me apparently, I loved her too. She’s an older sister figure like my role model. I mean she was when I was a few years younger. I think I’ve grown out of role models.

I felt a sharp uncomfortable sensation in my body which sort of felt like those anxiety brain zaps but located in my abdomen. 

I looked behind me and there was something off about this man who was standing a few feet behind me. I accidently made eye contact with him and he bolted off. 

Weird. 

“Y/N are you even listening to me?” 

“Huh,” I turned in Carmen’s directions “Sorry what'd you say?” 

“I was saying that since you got a tattoo, I’m gonna cut and dye my hair,” 

“Cool what color?” 

“I don’t know yet let’s go just to CVS ‘nd decide there,” 

I was sitting on the kitchen counter behind the chair Carmen was in as I applied the bleach to her hair singing along to the song playing. 

Why is it so hard to accept the party is over?

You came with your new friend

And her mom jeans and her new Vans

I set the bowl of hair bleach onto the counter hopping down to get ready for my favorite part of the song. 

And she's perfect and I hate it 

I sang it loudly moving my hands around like I always do releasing my energy. It was almost like therapy. Who am I kidding SZA is therapy. 

I used the bathroom and I couldn’t find soap. I looked under the cabinet and found the soap. I also found something else I wasn’t expecting to see. I brought it back into the kitchen with me.

“You have a hello kitty bong?”

She grabbed it from my hands examining it. 

“Well actually I stole it from my sister,” 

“No way, this is Dinah’s? Because she just got ten times cooler,” 

“All I know was she got back in college, then she just stopped using it,” 

I finished Carmen’s hair which for some reason she trusted me enough to cut curtain bangs for her honestly they didn’t look too bad. It was just very time consuming. 

“Okay but are you sure, how’d you know he’s gay?” Harry questioned leaning back to look at the kid again. 

“Just watch,” I raised my voice just enough for him to be able to hear me “Charlie!” 

He turned around as if he were stunned that I was talking to him. 

“Who me?” He asked.

“Yes you,”

“Oh,”

“So can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah sure I guess…”

“What’s your favorite Percy Jackson book?”

“The answer Lightning Thief is pretty basic but it’s my favorite or maybe the Titan’s Curse, I’m not sure,” 

“Okay cool, thank you,” I turned back to face Harry “See,” 

“That doesn’t prove anything but okay,”

“He knew more than one book in the Percy Jackson series that tells me all I need to know,” 

“I know more than one Percy Jackson book,” He eyed me.

“Yeah and you’re gay,”

He just huffed. Got him there. 

“He still wouldn’t fuck you though,” I sat tucked my legs underneath me.

“Whatever shouldn’t you be in your class? Which is it again?”

“Physics,” 

“Oh…”

“Oh what? Don’t oh me,” 

“You’re avoiding Peter,” 

“I’m not avoiding Peter,” I totally was. Just Harry thinks I’m doing it because I like him. I didn’t tell him that but I might've let him believe it, because how do you even go about telling someone Hey I’m avoiding the person because fire came out of my body and they saw it.  I’d sound insane. 

As I was walking to the gym and by to, I mean away from, but that’s not the point, I could’ve sworn I saw the same man from Saturday in the window near the crowd of students. 

Accompanied by the same gut feeling. 

I pushed my way into the gym. To avoid him. I bumped into someone. Off instinct I got defensive but then I heard an 

“Oh, sorry. Sorry!” Once they’d turned around I realized it had been Peter. Just my luck. 

“You’re fine that was basically my fault anyway,” 

I was going to just walk over to one of my friends but they weren’t here and Liz literally just left the school. So I had no escape. 

Well there was one escape. There’s always a way out.

“Y/N!” The female gym coach called. 

“Yes?” I rolled my eyes.

“Where are your gym clothes?” 

“Probably in the locker room...” 

“Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“I didn’t feel like it,”

“You need to change for your grade, participation is important,” 

I picked up my backpack off the floor before pushing open the doors to the girls locker room. Instead of going towards my locker I headed straight for the metal doors leading into the hallway. I went to the space I always seemed to drift to when I had nowhere else to go. 

The teachers bathroom. 

I know that sounds weird but it’s the only one I can lock. I stole a key a while back when I went to get my phone back from one of the teachers. 

I guess Carmen was a psychic or something because one of the videos she’d posted on our group account of us eating in the dresses, me getting that tattoo, and dying Carmen’s hair had blown up. 

I did not see her take any of the clips but the proof was right in front of me. 

The video had half a million views and I assumed that was because of all the comments helping pushing the algorithm.

Some of them were nice like

hey lol 

you’re both gorgeous omg 

That tattoo is cool af 

I want to be you 

I should pay you to do my hair lmao

I can't tell if i want to be you

The other half were like 

No child should be getting a tattoo you look so young

That is the devils sign I’m praying for you. 

Why please Go To God✝️✝️🙏🏻🙏🏻♥️

Im praying for you 

At first I was confused as to why half of the comments were people praying. Then I realized it was because Carmen had on her pentagram necklace. 

I’m definitely not complaining about the comments though because they got me that many views, likes, and follows, but the ignorance upsets me. A pentagram only represents Earth, Air, Water, and Fire it’s about balance. 

 I think it’s cool, kinda like the Avatar. It has nothing to do with Satan. I didn’t really want to think about Fire. I was still freaking out about Friday. It hadn’t happened again so maybe I dreamt it or something. 

Somehow I spent the rest of gym and half of what should’ve been me heading to detention responding to every Christian’s comment with something dumb or witty. 

I was walking towards the detention room and was startled by Peter. Again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?” 

“Um… this is gonna sound insane but,” he paused looking down fiddling with his hands. 

My face twisted up in confusion as to why he still hadn’t spoken. 

“Are you gonna to speak…”

“Oh. Oh!” He looked back up “Yeah you remember my internship right?”

“Yeah…” I guess he was going to act like I didn’t know about him being Spiderman again.

“So now Mr. Stark is interested in you and wants you to come with me upstate,”

“Why me?” 

“I’m not sure, but if you’re coming someone is outside waiting for us,” 

I’m sure this was just another attempt to lure me into some SHIELD mess. However Peter had no idea about Thorn or any of the other fucked up shit I’d done. So it would look suspicious if I didn’t go. Because what kid or any other person wouldn’t want to meet Tony Stark. 

“Okay then, what are we waiting for?” 

The ride there was completely silent. I spent the whole time texting Carmen as she complained about her boyfriend. I really hated him oh my God. Peter had gone into the building about 15 minutes ago. 

“Okay, if he’s always getting on your nerves and trying to control you why are you still with him?” I asked in the snap meant for Carmen. 

“You know why, I’m not going to say it because then you’d get mad at me,” She sent a video back.

“Thank you I do not want to hear about your boyfriends dick-,” I was interrupted by a knock on the window “Okay I can’t talk got to go,” I sent the video before sliding across the seat pushing the door open. 

“What happened?” I asked as Peter sat back in the car. 

“It was a test,” He said, providing no further elaboration. 

The back window was rolled down and the guy who drove us here. Happy, I think. There is no way that was his real name. He stuck his face in the window. 

“Hey, the boss wants to see you now,” 

I turned back to Peter and whispered.

“The boss? Am I about to walk into some mafia meeting,” 

He just laughed at that. 

“We don’t have much time,” Happy urged. 

As we began walking the halls of the giant building as I pocketed random trinkets that I could sell for a quick buck. 

“So what’s your real name?” I asked Happy since this whole time he was leading me it was a silent ride. 

He continued to ignore me.

So I asked again. I could tell from his body language that I was getting on his nerves. 

I asked twice more and by the time the last sentence came out of my mouth we’d already reached our destination. He walked away not before mumbling a quick I hate kids. 

“Y/N it’s nice to meet you,” Tony greeted as he reached out to shake my hand. I allowed it.

“You’re a lot shorter in person,” I pointed out after releasing his hand. 

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He reached for a bowl putting something in his mouth. “Grape?” He offered.

“No thank you,” Not like they’d be poisoned  or anything, no one had even gotten the chance to question me yet. Also there was the fact that he was eating them but this could be a Princess Bride situation. Not taking any chances. 

“Okay,” He clapped, dusting his hands. “Let’s get to the point now,” 

“So I’ve been informed that you had an instance with pyrokinesis,” He continued after I nodded. “I was hoping to research this to get to the bottom of this,”

“So you want to use me as a lab rat?”

“No of course not, the research would be used purely for your personal benefit,” 

For my benefit my ass. They were going to turn me into a lab rat or a soldier.

“Okay I’ll think about it,” Thought about it. A hard hell no.

“If you do choose to do so since you are a minor I’ll need parental consent,” 

“Of course,” I nodded.

There was a pamphlet that I wasn’t going to read. I wasn’t really going to ask for permission. Was I? If I wasn’t then why was I back at ”my” house. 

I just missed my bed, it was messy but it was mine. 

I started sobbing for no reason at all. Maybe it was the old sketchbooks on my bed, or my mom's broken jewelry box. It could’ve been the smell of incense that never left from the lack of ventilation. It was probably the pile of crystals on my dresser. Then again it could’ve been the nazar eye amulet from the broken bracelet on the ground or the hole in the wall where I used to keep my favorite knife. Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was so much more. Maybe it was something different entirely. Maybe it was the colors of the wind. Who knows. 

My eyes stung as my eyeliner dripped down and into them. I blinked the tears away as I went through all my clothes and I mean ALL my clothes. 

I found another bodycon dress. I slipped it on after stuffing a few other articles in my bag. I continued searching to the very back of my closet and I found an old purse. There were at least $50 in the back pocket and in the front pocket there were- Oh. 

There was a small plastic bag with at least 500gs of Xanax. I must’ve left them there after Washington.

 I wasn’t going to take them. I really wasn't; I just put them in the bra. You know for safe keeping. I heard the front door open and made a break for the balcony. 

Although I’d regularly seen my sisters. I still hadn’t seen my dad since I’d left. They’d seen him a couple times though he was fine with the idea of them staying at our grandma’s for who knows how long. He doesn’t care as long as he’s still got that girlfriend of his. I can only imagine what he told her about us not staying with him.

 I jumped down the stairs of the fire escape and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. As something hit my calf. 

I looked down to see it was just Salem climbing up my leg. I lifted her up to my chest nuzzling the top of her head. 

“Hiii baby!” I cooed in a baby voice. 

I now more carefully made my way down the steps so as to not disrupt her. Now I was going to go straight to my grandma’s house to drop off the clothes, but I wanted to go shopping before it got too late.

 I already had no money so I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea but there I was with a $300 charge on my credit card. 

I probably looked insane walking around the mall with a cat in my backpack and black streaks underneath my eyes. 

If you’ve never done this I highly recommend it. Every subway train comes with carts and the last cart is a door with railing and no other restrictions. You can just sneak into the very back. 

The wind hitting your face is the most freeing thing in the world and you can scream as loud as you want and no one will hear you. That fact can be unsettling to some but to me it’s beautiful. 

Releasing your true emotions to no one but you and yourself. I closed my eyes holding onto the railing with one hand and Salem in the other. I put her back into my backpack before sitting down. 

Since the app is addicting, and you can’t tell me it’s not, I opened Tiktok and the first thing I saw is a guy pouring what I hoped wasn’t I thought it was into a bowl. 

So naturally my first reaction was to make a video about it because who doesn’t overshare on the internet. 

“Tell me why,” The track rumbled underneath me, making Salem whine, I picked her up letting her cuddle into my chest. 

“Okay, I have a cat now but-” The track rumbled again “It’s so fucking loud but tell me why I opened this hellfire app and see some dude pouring cum into a bowl, I hate everyone,” 

Within like six minutes of me posting it I had multiple likes and comments. 

The only reason being is that Harry dueted.

 I gotta say being the kid of a mayor and a multimillionaire gives you some form of clout. So he had a pretty heft following.

Harry’s similar to me in the way that we’re mean to our friends. So naturally  we’re ”mean” to each other. 

“You look stupid,” Harry claimed in his video “Also who’s fucking cat did you steal put it back and get in the trains properly and go wash your face,”

I hadn’t even realized I was on my new account at first. 

Of course I made a response video. 

“First of all this is my cat, her name is Salem and she’s adorable” I mean not really but she belongs to no one else, and I feed her. “Second, ignore my eyeliner. I actually think it looks kinda cute,” Lie, It just made me look crazy. “Also how'd you even find this account so fast? Stalker. I’d advise you shut up before I post your phone number then you’d have to ward off groupies. I’m sure you’d like that though.” 

I’m pretty sure the majority of the people in our comments thought we were being serious. So in turn they commented things like I have no idea who you are but I’m on your side, is this gonna be another scandal, or here before the news is talking about it. 

I’m not complaining. His history of scandals got me to 5k followers for the pure assumption that I was involved in some other secret. 

My mind was moving at 100 miles per hour. It felt like I was on a whole bottle of adderall.  I was going somewhere. At least I remember I was supposed to be somewhere. I’m pretty sure my grandma’s house was where I was going. Right?

“No weapon against you shall prosper mija,” My grandma squeezed my hand “You are stronger than you know,”

“I know. Thank you,” 

I’d got here and we had a 30 minute conversation about my mental health without outright saying anything about mental health. It was just mostly her taking shots at my dad. With the exception of her telling me I was dressed like una furcia. 

“Okay well,” I pushed up off the couch “I just came to bring some clothes and I need to get back anyway,” 

“Get back to where, where are staying?” She asked. 

“Oh you remember MJ right?” I lied. 

“Oh yes, I like that lil’ girl,” 

I went into the guest room to where my sisters were staying. I could hear rustling as I got closer to the room. I flicked on the lights. To see both of my sisters asleep. It was only 10:30 so that was highly unlikely.

“I know you’re not sleep it’s just me,” 

They peeled open their eyes, sitting up. 

“I come bearing gifts,” I announced kneeling down next to the bag. 

I placed the bag on the floor carefully so I wouldn’t hurt Salem.

Sapphire squealed when she saw her. 

“You got Salem? I missed her!” 

“Well actually, I just brought clothes,” I dumped them on the bed “Aaliyah come here?” I asked. 

She hopped down from the bed. 

“All of Sapphire’s clothes are over there but I know we’re like the same size so pick what you want,” I told her. 

She took at least half of what I had but I wasn’t complaining because at least she wasn’t going behind my back and taking them. 

“Okay but like am I really allowed to hate my father like cause,” I tried to move only to immediately lose balance “Shit- but like can I even hate my dad if I do the same shit he does, like maybe, maybe it’s like some contractual blood magic shit and I’m just destined to be a shitty person,” I was sending videos to some group chat I didn’t know who was in it because I couldn’t really read the name I just know Harry was the only one responding. 

“I get it being like your parents is scary but you’re not and I won’t let you be like that, now get some sleep please,” Harry reassured. 

“NO! It’s like,” I struggled to get the sentence out “It’s like crazy because before I existed it like someone fucking planted this, like it- it’s a-,” I hit my forehead on each word as if I could physically knock them out. “It’s a seed in my brain and it’s only going to grow as I get older and I’m just gonna be an asshole, it’s fucking happening already and I-“ Carmen came into the living room I flipped the camera onto her “Say hi!” I slurred. 

“Y/N you okay?” She said making her way over to me. I stopped the video and sent it. 

“I’m fine how are you?” 

“I thought you went to bed,” she ignored my question. 

“I did. Then I couldn’t sleep,” I leaned back onto the couch. She crouched down next to me feeling my forehead.

“You have a fever,” She claimed.

“No I don’t! Why does everyone keep saying that?” I whined. 

“Are you high?” She moved closer to my face. 

“No I’m not fucking high,” 

“You’re slurring your words,” She pointed out moving into the kitchen “What’d you take?” 

“What?”

“I said what’d you take,” She going into one of the cabinets “I know you’re not drunk because you don’t smell like alcohol and you don't smell like weed, so I’ll ask you again,” 

“I didn’t take anything, I'm not high!” I explained. 

“It was Benadryl wasn’t it?” She came back into the living room and handed me a glass of water. “You know that stuff kills people,” 

“Yeah I think I of all people would know that,” Truth is I wasn’t lying. I didn’t take anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, maybe sleep deprivation.

“True,” She sat down on the floor next to me “You know how I said I can tell when it’s getting bad,” I nodded. “Well like I was saying before it’s getting bad for you-”

“No it’s not,” I interrupted “I’m literally the happiest I’ve ever been today,” 

“I was getting there,” She held her hands up in an attempt to placate me “That’s just the calm before the storm it’s mania,”

“I’m not manic! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me I’m perfectly fine,” 

I must've woken Salem up because I could hear her footsteps as she paddled over to me and sat in my lap. It’s like she knew when I was getting angry. 

“That’s the thing you’re not fine, just let me know when you’re ready to admit that,” She pushed off the ground using her hands “Try to get some sleep please and thank you,” 

I think it was the weight and warmth of Salem on my chest that finally lulled me to sleep like a weighted blanket. 

“Sapphire!” I yelled to catch her attention “Stop running you’re gonna hurt yourself,” 

She slowed down before making her way back to Aaliyah and the other kids at this birthday party. 

I sat back down on the table’s bench before getting back on my phone. I saw this post one time about how people use technology to distract themselves so they can't have the chance to have a depressive thought. Then I decided to prove that theory wrong so I put my phone up and I thought. 

And boy did I have a lot to think about. The biggest thing on my mind was why. Why did Tony Stark come after me? Why did the guy with the gun come after me? Why did my mom feel the need to make an “Incase I die” video? Why did she have connections to people like Kingpin? Why did she even know Wade? Wasn’t he some science experiment gone wrong? 

Then that got me thinking what if I was a science experiment gone. What if that’s why Tony Stark wanted to experiment on me. What if that was under the orders of someone from SHIELD, because how would he have known about me otherwise. 

Welp, there was only one way to find out. 

“Okay I’m in,” I settled. “What do I have to do?”

“Uh are you sure?” Tony asked.

“Positive,” I affirmed. 

“Well first we would probably do some blood tests and an MRI. Then see where that takes us.” He looked back over at me “Can you do this tomorrow?” 

“Yeah tomorrow works for me,” 

“Great,” He clapped his hands together “I’ll send Happy to pick you up from school,” 

“No it’s fine I can get here myself.” 

“It’s a different location,” He revealed. 

“Okay tell me where it is and I’ll make it there myself,”

“I can’t not even I know where it is,” 

“Fine, I’ll do this, but only if I can bring a friend,” I requested “You know for safety reasons?”

“Safety reasons? Do you not trust me?”

“Not really…” 

“Wow okay, you can bring this friend,” 

“Who doesn’t trust Iron man?'' I heard him mutter to himself as I made my way out of the building. 

I always thought the apocalypse would come in colors. The sky flashing from red to pink to purple to orange. Then there would be a loud sound almost like the Big Bang. Then nothing. I had a vivid imagination when I was younger. 

I guess I was wrong though because it was already here and the sky was as blue as ever.  And the air was as humid as ever in this crusty ass building. 

“I told you already I’m not a soldier you’re gonna have to pay me for this,” I spoke into the comms.

“Shh,” Tony hushed “Just wait for your target.”

Life hadn’t been all that bad. Just for the past two weeks I’d been training with Peter since at the end of the week that I agreed to testing, Spiderman joined in the Avengers officially. Which, good for him I guess. 

Trying to get my brain back on track now. I’d been training with Peter and now we’re going on our first mission. I was not loyal to Tony at all. Nor would I ever be. I’m not calling him Mr. Stark like Peter does either, he doesn’t deserve it. I was trying to look up my mom with the information Felicia gave me and I saw she was listed as level orange in a shield file. Whatever that means.

One thing it meant was I couldn’t back out just yet now.

This would be one deep inside job.

“Peter?” I whispered into the comms

“Hello?” He asked.

“Where are you?” 

“I’m guarding the entrance like I was told too?” He asked more than stated. 

“Well, come here,” 

“But Mr. Stark said-“ 

“I don’t care what Mr. Stark said come here,” I interjected without even thinking about the fact he could’ve been listening in somehow. 

“Yes?” He questioned once he was standing in front of me.

“Take my role for a second,” I pulled my gun out the holster “You know how to use a gun right?”

I thought back to the last time we’d actually fought as our alter egos. Except then he didn’t know it was me and he still doesn’t. He definitely didn’t know how to use a gun then let’s just hope he did now. 

“You know what, I don’t have time just take it,” I placed the gun in his palm before speeding off.

“Wait!” He called out “Aren’t you defenseless now?” 

“I’ll be fine baby boy,” I called back.

I made my way into the farthest depths of the warehouse. I’d been here once before. That was before I knew Felicia and we’d gotten into a scuffle about a diamond. Let’s just say I was young and I went home bruised that day. 

Apparently I was under the impression she had it and she was under the impression I had it this whole time. So maybe. Just maybe it was still there. It was somewhere in the back last time I checked.

 There it was. I grabbed it and recoiled when I heard a voice accompanied by the sharp zap in my body. 

“Looking for something?” They asked. I turned around only to be faced with a large burly almost Frankenstein looking man. 

“Oh yeah I was looking for you actually, you just made my job a lot easier,” 

As if my words were a signal for him. They probably were. He lunged forward towards me with his left side fully open. I evaded and left a sharp kick to his side. 

He wailed out in pain before slinging me backward as I tried to reach for the diamond off the floor. 

I skidded across the floor before hopping back to my feet. 

“I found the guy,” I spoke into the comms.

“Who are you talking to?” The target teased. 

“Your mom,” I taunted. 

“Hey!” He cried. 

“Where are you?” I heard Peter ask I didn’t get a chance to answer because the man swung at me again. 

That hit made contact with my shoulder. He continued to swing and I continued to walk backwards. I realized almost too late that I was backing myself into a corner.

I’m not sure where or who I heard this from maybe Wade but sometimes the only point your opponent has his guard down is mid punch.

 I scrambled for my knife, fingers dancing around the holster on my waist as my feet continued to slide along the pavement underneath me. Just as the man swung at me again I sent my knife towards his torso. Except it didn’t make contact. And I had never missed before, especially not from this close. 

I was confused until I realized it was because I heard that all familiar wet sticky sound of Spider-Man’s web shooters except this time I was glad to hear it. 

Peter webbed the man's arms and mouth all while my fingers went lax in shock for only a moment but one moment too long. 

The knife clattered to the ground making a noise that drew Peter’s attention. I tried to swipe it away with my foot but Peter had already grabbed it. 

“This is Thorns knife,” He spoke calmly and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or if it was for himself.

“And how would you have Thorns knife unless you were,” I saw his eyes light up as he made the connection. “Wait, you’re Thorn, holy shit, I’m so stupid how’d I not notice before,”

“Peter seriously you can’t tell anyone,” 

He looked up as if he were just noticing I was still there. 

“Don’t worry I won’t be saying anything at all,” 

Yeah, this was definitely the apocalypse because I don’t know if it was just me but life was ending.

Another silent ride and I realized exactly what he’d meant when he said he wouldn’t say anything. He was giving me the silent treatment. 

Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango. 

Taglist: 

@tomdiddlyumptious​

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.7 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch knows he can't really depend on the kindness of strangers, but oh, sometimes he wishes he could.

~~*~~

Read ‘The Kindness of Strangers’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was with a heavy, weird-ass book in hand that Stretch returned to the heat of the afternoon. This time he made haste getting back to the store while his knees were cooperating, almost jogging on the sidewalk and waving to any regular customers as he passed. The sun was on its downward path by now and the strollers were out in full force, the Human moms and pops pushing them hardly paying him any mind past a ‘good afternoon’ as he went by.

His knees were back to the wibble-wobbles when he slipped through the door, the bell announcing him with a muted clank. The first thing he noticed was that Red wasn’t behind the counter. He was standing at the back of the store, leaning on his cane and blocking off the hallway that led to both their living quarters. Yeah, that looked like insurance that Stretch couldn’t hurry on past him upstairs; Red wasn’t quick, but he also wasn’t stupid, and Stretch could feel his hard gaze scrutinizing him from across the store.

Wonderbar.

Stretch pasted on a grin and tried to act like someone who hadn’t been recently felt up by Red’s little brother in the public library. Not that Red said that he couldn’t, but some things, (for example, random groping) could probably be inferred.

“hey, what’s up?” Stretch said brightly.

“my bro called,” Red said bluntly, and Stretch’s feeble hopes deflated like yesterday’s party balloon. So much for discretion.

“i can explain,” Stretch blurted, “it wasn’t my idea, seriously, i was only—"

Red interrupted him with an amused snort. “easy, kid, don’t haul out your guilty conscience on my account. all he did was give me the gist of things, said you had yourself an unexpected adventure.” Red jerked his head towards the hallway. “g’wan, string bean, you can use my bathroom. take a shower and cool off.”

A cool shower pouring down on his dirty, sweaty bones sounded like Eden itself right about now, apple not included.

“thanks,” Stretch said gratefully. He skirted around Red, who didn’t move, only squatted there like a grouchy stump in the middle of the doorway while Stretch squeezed around him. Must be tempering his kindness with a little extra asshole to keep things even.

On his way to showerland, Stretch took a quick detour to leave the book on the coffee table amidst the clutter. Maybe he could ask Red about it, get the cliff notes version.

The shower in the downstairs bathroom was stuck with the same crappy water heater as upstairs, not that it mattered since Stretch was about ready to cuddle with an iceberg to cool off. Added bonus, the showerhead was a lot better and it managed to crank the feeble water pressure up to its max. There was a cheap plastic stool sitting in the tub, way too short for Stretch. He sat on it anyway, knees almost up to his chin as the cool water poured down on him and washed away the sweat and filth.

He was shivering a little by the time he was done, dragging a ratty towel over his dripping bones. The pile of his clothes was missing and there a new folded bundle sitting on the closed toilet lid. He must’ve been out of it more than he thought, he’d never even heard Red coming in. Unless laundry fairies were a thing and wasn’t that idea a lot more pertinent than it was yesterday.

Stretch picked up the bundle and part of it fell on the floor. Pajama pants, luckily not a pair of Red’s although it might’ve been hilarious to see Stretch wandering around like a scrawny hulk who sprouted upward out of his clothes instead of sideways. They were red plaid flannel and worn to the stage of being shiny at the knees and elbows. Probably an old pair of Edge’s, the fit was pretty close and not too many Humans wore their waistband quite as skinny as a guy without a waist.

(he was not getting a cheap thrill out of wearing a pair of Edge’s pajamas, no matter what his libido was trying to tell him)

He wandered out into Red’s living room, still squeegeeing his skull dry with the damp towel, and saw the sofa was made up with some blankets and a pillow, the television remote set helpfully in reach.

“you done?” Red’s voice echoed up from the store and his peculiar gait made its way down the hallway until he appeared again in the doorway. “then lay down and turn on the boob tube, zone out awhile. you’ll feel better.”

“what did your brother tell you?” Stretch asked. Not that he wasn’t willing to do what he was told. The couch was saggy in the middle, but the blankets were clean and smelling of laundry detergent. They felt blissfully cozy after the cold shower.

“said you met edgar allen,” Red said. “under less than stellar circumstances, i’m guessin’, since i don’t think ya got an invite for a meet and greet with the local scarecrow.”

This time his shiver had nothing to do with the temperature. Edgar Allen was an okay guy, (guy?) but Stretch was still on the fence about the corn’s attitude problems. “not exactly, no. thanks for the heads up, by the way.”

Red tilted his skull to one side, baffled, “heads up about what?”

“i dunno,” Stretch leaned up on an elbow to see him better and hopefully increase the effect of his dirty look, “maybe when you’re warning me off from the local landmarks, you could’ve touch on that fact that a stroll through the fields might involve the corn trying to hold me as a captive audience?”

“naaah,” Red scoffed. Stretch didn’t miss the way he absently started picking at his gold tooth; that was a nervous tell right there and maybe all this wasn’t just concern but dealing with a little guilt that Stretch’s latest town bonding experience was less than top notch. “that's why the damn scarecrow is there t'begin with. ‘sides, even without him you’d have gotten out before dark. anyway, never expected you to go tromping off into the corn in search of a maze, sorry i misgauged the direction of your dumbass.”

“no, i’m sorry, not your fault.” Stretch couldn’t hold back a yawn so wide it nearly split his skull, yeesh, it wasn’t even dinner time and he was ready to sleep for a week. The imaginary hamster running on the wheel in his head wasn’t quite as ready and it decided to race back to thoughts of Edge sitting in the library, alone. Researching he’d said, so intent on his books from the so-called restricted section, like a bargain basement Hogwarts. “hey, what does your brother do?”

“mostly he’s a pain in my ass.”

It was said with great feeling and Stretch snerked out a laugh. Yeah, kinda a universal trait with little brothers. “no, seriously, i mean, for a living, what does he do?”

Red shifted his feet, his cane scraping the floor. “why are ya askin’?”

“curious. bored,” Stretch shrugged, “take your pick.” He didn’t really want to explain to Red that his brother wasn’t just a sexy pair of legs in boots anymore, (but those hips would never be forgotten). He was interesting, no, fascinating. This whole town was turning out to be some kind of puzzle and it seemed to him that Edge might be a big piece. He’d said that figuring out Backwater was a fool’s errand, but he’d never met Stretch’s kind of fool before.

“kid—” Red sighed and that resigned tone snapped Stretch out of his whimsies. He cringed internally. What was he even trying to do here, he owed Red so much and not just for the job, and here he was digging for information about his bro after Red already warned him off, not once, but twice, so maybe what he was really digging was his own grave, if he didn’t knock it off.

“nevermind,” Stretch said hurriedly. “i shouldn’t’ve asked, none of my business, i get it.”

Red shook his head. “that ain’t it.”

Stretch tried on a little laugh, ha ha, see, it wasn’t that big a deal, right? “look, the state of your brother’s ass aside, i get it. that’s your little brother, and i didn’t forget what you said. we only bumped into each other at the library, i’m really not trying to get into his pants.”

He left off on making it a promise; he was telling the truth, but why take the chance on not keeping it.

He didn’t expected the hand that suddenly scruffed over his skull, like the noogies he used to give to Blue when he was little…well, okay, Blue was still little but noogieing was off the table since he’d started his guard training.

This wasn’t like that childish roughhousing, Red’s knuckles only scraped softly along his coronal sutures. “no, kid, you don’t get it. my bro can handle himself, it ain’t him i’m worried about. but you? don’t ya got the feeling you ain’t up to any new affairs of the soul right now? might want to take it easy awhile.”

That unexpectedly gruff kindness made tears sting in his sockets. Stretch guiltily leaned into that touch to absorb every drop, and how was it he could accept it from Red when he couldn’t take it from his own brother? “i don’t get you. you barely even know me. why are you so nice to me?”

Red huffed out a laugh. “you want i should be an asshole? okay, but i gotta warn ya, i’m a contender when it comes to dick moves.”

“thanks, but you can keep your dick in your pants.”

“your loss.”

“seriously, though, what i mean is. i just don’t get it. this place is so weird, but everyone is nice.” It didn’t exactly line up with Stretch’s view of the world. His brother was always nice sure and Snowdin hadn’t been too bad, if you didn’t count the fact that all his friends were from drinking his nights away at Muffet’s. The surface world ran about fifty-fifty with Monsters being on the kinder side of the scale…until he got dumped and found out he lost all his friends in the divorce, how was that for loyalty.

Red only chuckled. “now you’ve gone and cursed yourself. can’t say everyone is nice, you ain’t met everyone yet.”

That was true, fuck, he hoped the universe wasn’t listening and if it was, that it didn’t decide to drum up a little drama. “red?”

“yeah, kid?”

Stretch craned his head back on the pillow and met Red’s crimson gaze upside-down. “thank you for being nice.”

“don’t tell anyone. i’ll lose my resident asshole status.

“secret is safe with me, promise.” Stretch yawned again and the cow bell suddenly jangled loudly out front, startling them both.

Red shouted. “yeah, i’m coming!” He tossed over his shoulder back at Stretch, “take tomorrow off, sleep in, you ain’t had a day off since ya got here.”

“thanks, boss.”

Stretch started to settle in, nap ahoy, captain, hard to starboard and all that, and his eye lights snagged on the book. Shit, he forgot to ask Red about it. Probably didn’t matter, Red’s ingredient label kinda went equal parts of cryptic and cryptid, so he probably wasn’t gonna give the right answers even if Stretch figured out what to ask.

Wait.

If Red and Edge want to share the part of the local Obi-Wan with their mysterious ways, that was fine. He already had the perfect person lined up to ask about the town’s history. Well, part of a person, anyway, the most important part.

Plan formed, Stretch turned on the television and snuggled into the blankets, letting the dulcet tones of Pat Sajak lull him to sleep.

He didn’t dream.

~~*~~

The next day, Stretch headed over to the theater bright and early, still munching on the muffin Red handed off to him as he settled on the stool for the day with his latest book, this one with a bare-chested pirate embracing a busty Human woman as the ocean sprayed up over the hull over them. Seemed to Stretch that would be less smokin’ sexytimes and more cold and wet, but what did he know, his closest encounter with the ocean was extra salt on his Applebee’s margarita.

“thanks, mom,” Stretch said as he took the little paper lunch bag Red held out to him. Red only grunted and didn’t look up from his book. In the midst of rummaging for his tasty free breakfast, Stretch hesitated at the front door.

He felt a little guilty even though Red was the one who told him to take the day. Before he started working at the store, was Red really sitting there all day long, twelve hours of a cash register and customers while he drank beer and soaked up a little romance language in the form of a cheap paperback?

Not that Stretch was judging, hell, if that made Red happy, more power to him. Still, there had to be more to his life than that, didn’t there? Maybe he’d see if Mitch sold sudoku pads at the gas station, pick him up one along with a six-pack. Hard to guess if they carried that kind of entertainment; Mitch was either some kind of crossword grand champion or the kind of guy who ate ketchup on his cheerios and Stretch still wasn’t sure which.

The first movie showing wasn’t for another hour, but Igor didn’t make a fuss when Stretch asked him if he could go sit down early. (and holy shit, the proprietor’s name was actually Igor? He wasn’t sure if the guy’s parents hated him or if the universe sense of irony rolled a natural D20 when it hit this town.)

Igor only grunted and handed over two cups of popcorn without being asked, handing back a crumpled dollar in change. Aww, Stretch had a usual, see, he was settling into town just fine, suck it, Edge.

(don’t think it, don’t think it, don’t think it…)

Stretch made his way to the theater to his regular seat, propping his sneakers up on the chair in front of him. The popcorn he set aside for now, it wasn’t exactly his idea of a breakfast treat and that muffin Red gave him was still settling into his magic. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure if Doris could show up very long before the movie. He was no expert, but he did know that ghosts could have some peculiar rules about manifesting. Hopefully this wouldn’t mess with her morning routine, whatever it was.

He didn’t have to wait long. Maybe Doris could sense him or maybe she could just feel it when a living person came into the theater. She slowly came into focus next to him, pale ectoplasm coalescing, and the already cool air chilled even further.

Doris happily sniffed at her popcorn as she said, whispery soft, “Good morning, Stretch, you’re here very early.”

“yeah, took the day off work,” Stretch said. His voice sounded too loud in the empty theater, not even the elevator music was playing yet. “i need your help with something.”

He might as well have flipped Doris’s switch to ‘on’. She lit up, a smile curving her pretty mouth and seeming more solid than ever. The seat behind her was barely visible through her pale pink dress as she said eagerly, “Of course, anything that I can do.”

So that was how Stretch came to tell her the story about Edgar Allen. He didn’t leave out any details, including the bit about the kids shouting at him not to go in the field, the corn closing in around him in a dizzying maze of green, Edgar Allen’s assistance, and Edge’s cryptic warning that the scarecrow would disappear with the harvest.

Doris listened to it all raptly, her eyes wide and startlingly blue, and she never flickered once the entire time. The only unsettling sight was a single trickle of blood running down the side of her face, gathering in a heavy droplet on her chin.

“My, that sounds terrifying,” Doris breathed, unaware of the irony of her saying that while a slender thread of ghostly blood ran down her cheek. The droplet swelled fatly, growing until it finally fell with a plip onto her dress, leaving behind a perfectly round spot that would slowly vanish, only to be replaced by the next drop.

It didn’t really bother Stretch much anymore; he was getting used to it and an old memory of blood was nothing compared to his recent woes. “yeah, it was spooky all right.”

“But I’m not sure I can help you,” Doris continued sadly, “There wasn’t a scarecrow in my day, not that I remember. But the corn. Yes. That I recall.” She shivered delicately and her chair let out a strange groan of springs. “A person could get lost for days in the corn. I remember…” Her already faint voice went softer and Stretch strained to hear her, her gaze distant. “I remember one year at harvest time, they found a skeleton in the field, it was awful. Oh!” She gasped and pressed a gloved hand to her mouth, “I’m so sorry, it was a dead person, not a skeleton like you!”

“no offense taken,” Stretch assured her. He slouched down in his seat even more and waggled his feet, his untied shoelaces laces bobbing against the seatback “huh. so at least one person died out in the corn.”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember much about it,” Doris admitted. “whoever it was, they weren’t local.”

“uh huh.” An outsider, then, like him, getting munched up by the corn triffids. “who owns the corn fields, anyway?”

“I…” she hesitated, then apologetically. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’ve forgotten or if I never knew.”

Another mystery. If he was gonna play at Sherlock Holmes, he really needed to start taking notes. Maybe get a pipe.

“welp, either way, edgar allen bro out there saved my ass,” Stretch told her. He picked up a piece of popcorn and didn’t eat it, only crumpled it between his fingers and let the mangled bits fall to the floor, “and he’s gonna die come harvest time. i feel like i owe it to him to at least hear his story, you know? edge wouldn’t tell me much, just gave me that book and a scavenger hunt.”

“This Edge person doesn’t sound very nice,” Doris said disapprovingly. Her mouth pulled down into a frown that flashed briefly to a bloody smear. “Is he local?”

“kinda? he’s a monster like me, so he could only have been in town for a coupla years. since we came to the surface, anyway.”

Sudden relief washed over Doris’s pretty face. “He’s not a human, then.”

“nope, he’s another skeleton monster.” That seemed to satisfy her. Note to self, Doris wasn’t real keen on Humans, in a way that didn’t seem like it was only about the way they ran away when they got a good look at her. That mystery wasn’t all too mysterious, not with a big, bloody clue flickering in and out of view like a gory version of a kid’s flipbook. If that was a going away present from another Human, he didn’t blame her for being wary. He wondered if she’d met Edge before but Stretch hesitated to bring up that idea, or to mention Red; he didn’t want her to feel bad if she didn’t remember. “yep, another skeleton monster in town. he’s kinda rough around the edges, but he’s okay.”

“Okay, is that all?” Doris said with unexpected mischievousness, “he didn’t sound simply ‘okay’ when you were describing him.”

A blush flared hotly in his cheekbones and Stretch hunched down in his seat, weirdly embarrassed in a way he hadn’t been with Red. At least Red could see what he was staring at, Doris only had him waxing poetically about Edge’s hips to go by, and Shakespeare he wasn’t.

“yeah, yeah,” Stretch grumbled, and damn, he should’ve brought along his hoodie, at least he could’ve hidden from the laughter shining in her translucent eyes. She had a dimple in the cheek on her good side and it deepened as Stretch admitted, “could be that i enjoy the view. but that’s it, okay? just a little sightseeing, i don’t need any souvenirs.”

“Uh huh,” Doris clicked her tongue thoughtfully, “Stretch, my mama always told me you can’t hurry up a good time by waiting for it.”

Other people were starting to come into the theater now. One of them gave him a curious look, but they didn’t stop, only followed the others down to the front row.

“the only time i’m looking for is in the nick of,” Stretch sighed. “guess there’s no way around it, i’ll have to read the book.”

He should’ve known not to try to find an easy way out; seemed like all his shortcuts had abandoned him, lately.

Doris laid a hand on his arm and a sudden chill sank its teeth in deep enough for his bones to ache. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” Doris said softly.

“nah, you helped plenty,” Stretch told her. She had. Now he knew that scarecrows were slightly more recent, at least within the past century and that maybe the cornfield wasn’t quiet as safe as it’d been played off to be. At least a cornfield without Edgar Allen in it.

The lights started dimming, the first credits beginning to roll. His popcorn was cold, the butter congealing it into clumps of greasy blobs that stuck to his fingers. Stretch ate it anyway, hey, it cost him a dollar, and laughed with Doris as Buster Keaton escaped from a bumbling crowd of cops by grabbing onto a passing car.

His phone was in his pocket, tucked in deep and only lightly pressing against his femur through the thin cloth of his shorts. It vibrated once in a quick, staccato burst while the movie was playing but Stretch ignored it.

That was one lesson he’d learned very well while they still lived under the mountain; if you focused on the task at hand, you didn’t have to think about the ones you left behind.

~~*~~

tbc

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace - chapter 11

A Manorian High School AU

Words: 2601

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

And the heart is hard to translate

It has a language of its own

-Florence + The Machine, All This and Heaven Too

«Manon! Gods, are you okay?» Asterin ran over to her, voice frantic, eyes lined with worry.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Manon contemplated the crowded hallway. There were too many nosey ears and eyes that could eavesdrop.

«Not here,» Manon hissed to her cousin, pulling her into an empty classroom and closing the door behind them. This wasn’t a conversation meant to be had in public.

For a moment, none of them said anything, and Manon let her eyes rove over Asterin. She was seemingly unharmed, and Manon couldn’t stop the wave of relief that coursed through her.

The same couldn’t be said for herself. She’d spent a grueling hour that morning trying to cover up the thin cut on her cheek, but to no avail, the angry red line still visible. She hoped Asterin was too distracted by the fact that she had just been kicked out to notice.

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, and in lack of better words, Manon asked her cousin, «How are you?» She wasn’t sure if she wanted the conversation that would surely follow.

«I’m fine,» Asterin answered, looking down at her shoes. «She was so eager to get me out that she didn’t even bother to fully yell at me.» She let out a low laugh, but it was devoid of any emotion.

«Anyways, I’m staying with Hunter from now on. I should have left months ago.»

Manon didn’t say anything, only crossed her arms. Her grandmother’s words from last night echoing in her mind.

If I hear you talk to her, so much as look at her, I’ll make you regret it.

This was a mistake. She should have ignored Asterin from the second she approached her. Already, Manon was disappointing her grandmother, was ruining everything for herself. How could she be so stupid? So weak?

She had lain awake most of the night, worrying about her cousin, trying to convince herself that she didn’t really care where Asterin was. For she was merely a distraction, an obstacle, keeping her from reaching her goals, keeping her from doing better.

I truly thought you could be different from your mother. Better.

She would. She would do better. Be better.

Yet here you are, that vicious voice in her head whispered.

«You can move in with us too. It’ll be a bit crowded, but we’ll figure something out. I’ve already clarified things with Hunter. We’ll figure this out, Manon.»

Manon blinked in confusion, taking a step away from her cousin, who looked at her with such worry, such pity. Manon didn’t want any of it.

«What are you talking about?» she hissed back, brows furrowing.

«You can’t stay there. You don’t have to endure her anymore.» Asterin’s eyes were burning with clarity, with determination.

«And why not?» How could she possibly think Manon wanted to move away from their grandmother? The woman who had done everything in her power to make sure they succeeded in life. To make sure they didn’t end up like their own mothers. And here Asterin was, throwing it all away. It was her own fault, Manon said to herself.

Asterin nodded towards her cheek, saying in a quiet voice, «She did that, didn’t she?»

Manon stilled.

Was it that obvious?

She focused her eyes on the wall, a feeble lie ready on her tongue. «I don’t know what you’re talking about. I startled Abraxos and he scratched my cheek. It won’t even scar.»

Guilt churned deep in her stomach for bringing her innocent cat into this, but she couldn’t handle Asterin’s judgement if she had known the truth.

It didn’t work though, for Asterin said, «We both know that’s bullshit. Abraxos wouldn’t hurt a fly.»

And it was the anger in Asterin’s voice that made Manon meet her cousin’s gaze once more.

Betrayal, that was the name of the thing burning in Asterin’s eyes.

«Why do you keep defending her?» Her voice was shaking, with anger or sadness, Manon didn’t know, and Asterin didn’t budge.

«She only wants what’s best for us,» Manon said, chin held high.

«You can’t possibly believe that? She’s insane, Manon.» Asterin was raising her voice. Anger, then.

«Where would we have been without her?»

«She kicked me out. She doesn’t care about us.»

Manon scoffed, crossing her arms once more. When she stayed silent, Asterin said, «How can you be so blind?»

She could feel her anger growing at Asterin’s accusations. How could she be so blind? Asterin was the blind one for throwing it all away. For choosing something as stupid as love over her own future. Manon was done with this conversation, wanted to end it as fast as possible.

Which was why she delivered one last blow to Asterin. «Getting kicked out is the least you  deserve after getting yourself knocked up by a boy who will leave at the first sign of some real responsibility. Don’t come crawling to me when you find yourself homeless and heartbroken. You’re off the dance team, by the way.»

Asterin had opened her mouth to say something, but she quickly shut it as Manon’s words hit her. Tears began gathering in the corners of her eyes, and she placed a protective hand over her still-flat stomach. The sight made Manon want to vomit.

She was certain that Asterin would run crying out of the room, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a steadying breath, looked up at her cousin with narrowed eyes, and hissed, her voice as vicious as ever, «I thought you were different, but you truly are her creature.»

Manon slumped against the wall as Asterin left the room, not understanding why it felt as if she’d been punched in the gut.

You truly are her creature.

-

Dorian had been staring at the same page for five minutes now. All day, he’d been looking forward to lunch, to finally finish the thrilling book he’d started reading earlier that week. Except it was impossible to focus.

Everywhere, it was so loud, too loud. The cafeteria, his friends, his own head.

The past week had been stressing, to say the least. Manon still wouldn’t talk to him, and he hadn’t had the chance, either, since he barely saw her at school. It was as if she’d become a ghost.

He tore his eyes away from the book to scan the cafeteria, hoping to spot that white ponytail somewhere in the crowd. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted Asterin, Manon’s cousin, but she was sitting alone, Manon nowhere in sight.

As he finished scanning the room, his eyes met Aelin’s. She lifted an eyebrow in silent question. Everything okay?

Shaking his head, Dorian shifted his gaze to the door. He jumped slightly as he spotted something resembling white hair, but it wasn’t Manon, and he couldn’t help the disappointment that filled his body.

When he looked back at Aelin, her face said, Don’t worry. She’ll come to you if she wants to talk. Giving him a kind smile, she dived back into the conversation she’d been having with Rowan and Chaol. Dorian had no idea what it was about, so he tried to focus on his book.

Don’t worry.

She made it sound so easy.

Nothing about the he was missing Manon was easy. In fact, it was close to driving him insane. And it was only the tip of the iceberg of the many worries he had…

Like yesterday, when he’d had to sit through another one of the weekly family dinners.

Dorian wasn’t sure what was worse. His parents fighting or them pretending everything was fine.

Through the entire dinner, he’d fought the urge not to vomit. All because of his father, sitting there, spewing out offensive comments, one after the other, his mother, pretending she didn’t hear any of it, and his brother, throwing ridiculous tantrums just to get their attention.

And it had been another dinner, where courage failed him, Dorian still hiding the fact that he was bi.

Someone in the cafeteria laughed a little too loud, and Dorian had to stop himself from covering his ears. He glanced at the clock. There were still 20 minutes left of lunch break.

«I-I have to get some air,» he stuttered to his friends, abruptly standing up, his chair scraping against the floor.

Before any of them had the chance to reply, he was out the door, heading towards his spot in the library.

He would have opted for outside, but it was pouring rain, so the library it was.

As Dorian rushed for the hidden alcove, he willed his breathing to calm, his head to keep quiet. All he wanted was some peace to read his book and not think so much.

What he hadn’t expected, was to find Manon.

-

You truly are her creature.

Since the argument with Asterin the day before, this had been the sole clear thought in Manon’s head.

She couldn’t focus anymore. Not in her classes, not at dance practice, not at night, when all she wanted was deep, dreamless sleep. Instead, Manon laid awake, worrying.

It was all too much. She couldn’t possibly keep her promise to her grandmother when she was unable to focus. She had a math test tomorrow, damn it, but whenever she tried to study, her mind went blank.

Luckily her grandmother had left for work again that morning. It made it all a little easier when she didn’t have to constantly lie about her schoolwork.

Manon had no idea what to do when she got a bad grade on that test though…

Right now, it felt as if the world was moving faster than what she could follow.

And all that guilt, for lying to her grandmother, for what she’d said to Asterin, for failing, again and again. It was choking her.

She’d gone to sit in the library, in that hidden alcove where she’d first met Dorian, during lunch, didn’t want to risk running into Asterin in the cafeteria, or the rest of her dance team for that matter. The news that Asterin was off the team hadn’t been met very well.

At least the library was better than the girls bathroom. Her life hadn’t gotten that sad yet.

You wouldn’t be so lonely, had you not pushed Dorian away, a voice echoed in her mind.

Manon cursed it.

Still, thinking about Dorian made her feel all strange. Was she missing him? Was this what was happening?

It had been a mistake to befriend him, if she could even call it that. A stupid mistake.

After she’d finished her lunch, Manon glanced at the clock and saw that it was still 20 minutes left of the break.

She relished the stillness of the library. Here, breathing was a little easier, thinking, too.

That was, until a panicked-looking Dorian appeared around the corner of the shelf.

It felt as if they were back to that day, months ago, when they’d first met.

«Why do you always show up whenever I want to be alone?» Manon tried her very best to hide the surprise and comfort and sadness in seeing him.

Her words seemed to pull Dorian out of whatever stupor he’d been in, and he gave her a narrowed look. «That was one time, and lucky for you, I’m not in the mood to talk right now.» His shoulders sagged at the last part, but his voice remained empty, cold.

As he sat down next to her, Manon was tempted do gather her things and leave, but she didn’t, as if curious to see what happened next.

You can’t stay away from him, can you?

She sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

Dorian didn’t say anything, the silence stretching out, becoming uncomfortable.

Sighing once more, Manon asked, «What’s up with the mood, anyway?»

«I thought you wanted to be alone?»

She didn’t answered, only stared, raising an eyebrow.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dorian said, «It’s just…a lot, right now.»

Then everything poured out of him.

«Senior year is more stressing than I thought, and my parents are fighting all the time, which makes it really hard for me, because I’ve been trying to come out to them as bi for months, but my dad keeps being a homophobic asshole and I don’t think my mom knows what planet we’re on, and then you stopped talking to me all of a sudden and just-»

He groaned, head falling into his hands.

Manon had no idea what to say, what to do. She’d never been good with emotions. So she asked about the least complicated part of what he’d revealed. «You’re bi?» There was no accusation in her voice, or shock, only curiosity.

Dorian let out a breath of relief. «Yeah,» he said, voice weak.

«Cool,» was all Manon said in answer.

«You don’t care that I’m bi?»

«Why the fuck would I care about that?»

Dorian looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, that awkward silence returned.

Manon felt like she had to say something again. «I mean it Dorian, your sexuality is none of my business.»

«Thanks,» he said, giving her a tight smile.

Manon looked down at her hands, picking at one of her nails.

«So,» Dorian started, drawing a deep breath. «Why are you brooding in the library?»

She gave him a look that said, I’m not answering that.

«You’re the one who started this conversation.» Dorian stretched out his long legs, getting comfortable.

Oh, she wasn’t getting out of this one.

«I’m just-» Manon sighed, not knowing where to start.

I feel like a constant disappointment to everyone.

I feel like a failure, a liar, a fraud.

I miss you.

«I’m lonely,» she said.

Dorian searched her with those blue eyes of his, his expression going sad.

«Maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely if you hadn’t ignored me for weeks,» Dorian suggested quietly, still looking at her.

«You know nothing,» Manon hissed.

The realization of what she’d said, what she’d accidentally referenced, hit them both at the same time, and Dorian’s chuckle was quickly followed by one of her own.

«I’m sorry,» he managed to choke out between the fits of laughter. «This isn’t funny,» Dorian continued, but it was. It really was.

Why had she thought it was a good idea to ignore him? Manon asked herself as she tried, and failed, to control her laughter.

Because for the first time in weeks, she could breathe again…even if the breathless cackling said otherwise.

But everything it felt light, and easy.

Maybe…just maybe, this was what she needed to stay focused. To do better.

The only thing she was sure of, was that laughing with Dorian made her feel good, worries be damned.

When the laughter had died down at last, a few giggles still escaping them, Manon and Dorian were sitting against the wall, face to face, eyes locked on one another.

«Why are you staring at me?» Manon whispered, butterflies in her stomach.

Dorian swallowed, not breaking eye contact. «I’m contemplating how stupid it would be to kiss you right now.»

Manon drew a shuddering breath, all while gazing into those blue eyes. She could get lost in them.

To hell with it, a voice said inside her. A voice she hadn’t heard before. It sounded wise, and confident, and Manon decided to listen to it. To hell with it, indeed.

Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

A/N: What's up my dudes!

As always, it's been forever since last time, but hey! It wasn't six weeks this time....

Things are starting to happen now, though! Next chapter will be a filler, and therefore quite short, but that means I'll hopefully get it out in the near future:)

Taglist: @fireheartdreamerstarborn​ @bookishwitchling​ @ladywitchling​ @kit-12​ @onfma​ (this is a taglist for ALL my manorian fics, let me know if you want to be added!)

[sailtoafarawayland]

CS Modern AU

A/N: I planned on this being a a light one-shot, but my heart ran away with it and here is what we have... 

Summary:  If there was one thing Emma had learned, it was that falling didn't mean you broke forever, it just meant you had the opportunity to scrape up all the jagged pieces and move on. That's what she did, that's what she'd always done, but it turned out there was something she didn't know about falling, and that was that sometimes, if you landed in exactly the right place, it could put your broken pieces back together. 

Rated T for now: language

Read on AO3 - FF 

Special thanks to @kmomof4 for walking me through links! Hopefully these ones don’t block my post.

Chapter One

Not for the first time, but maybe for the last time, Emma cursed her stupidity.

It was usually something she did under her breath, a one-word expletive that would betray the self-doubt that plagued her if someone were to overhear.

She’d done it on a dark street when she was seventeen with her hands in the air, and again a few weeks later when those two pink lines appeared. There were plenty more—after two years of shattered hopes when she finally left Tallahassee in the rearview, and anytime she found herself thinking a one-night thing could maybe be something more if she just tried.

It was fair to say cursing her own stupidity was a familiar pastime. This time though, there was no one around to catch her in the moment of weakness—which was half the problem, if she was being honest with herself—so she didn’t mind really putting some feeling into it.

“Fuck!” she screamed, forcing out all of the frustration and regret, only to have it blown back against her face by a strong gust of wind. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Emma hadn’t been thinking—half the problem, since she was being honest with herself—but this was the first time that not thinking had led to such a precarious place, literally.

She forced herself to flex the fingers of her right hand, one at a time, carefully releasing the protruding lip of stone she clung to, pain blossoming as she moved her joints in a futile attempt to regain some feeling.

Rinse and repeat with the left.

She wasn’t dumb enough to try stretching her cramped legs—again—remembering how she’d lost her footing and slipped another five feet down, the top of the rocky bluff now a hopeless distance above her.

Her cell was god knows where. It had probably fallen out of her pocket somewhere in the woods, completely useless to her now—not that it mattered, there was no one who would be calling to look for her. The only certainty she had was that her payday was long gone—probably well on his way to Canada.

If there was any karma in the world, he’d get picked off by a hungry bear.

Maine had bears, she thought. Canada definitely did.

Fuck, her arms hurt. Every muscle in her body was taut and screaming. It was a simple fact that she wasn’t going to be able to hold onto the near vertical slope much longer. She forced her eyes open and glanced over her shoulder and down—really far down.

The slope below her dropped another ten feet or so before disappearing, leaving nothing but a clear view of the grey water swirling menacingly below—October was no time for a dip in the Atlantic—but at least it looked free of rocks from up here.

She tried not to think of the titanic.

While she was busy not thinking about underwater icebergs that could tear a ship apart, she also avoided thinking about what it would feel like to hit the ocean from twenty or thirty feet up.

Or what would happen if she hit a rock.

Fuck.

It was going to be one or the other, because right now—if she was being honest with herself, and she was—down was the only option. American Ninja Warrior she was not, and the amount of time she could hold on was running out. It seemed smart to drop while she still had some strength left for swimming, if any version of this could be called smart.

Another gust of wind ripped by and she made her choice. Just turn and push off. Hopefully, she’d clear the ledge below and hit open water, then she could swim to the stretch of shore she’d seen as she tumbled over the edge.

She could do it. People did this on TV all the time.

Gulping in a deep breath, she twisted, trying to maintain her footing enough that she could shove off the rock, but it turned out this stuff looked way easier in movies, and that in real life gravity was a bitch.  

Gravel shifted and she lost any chance of getting momentum. A grunt was forced from her lungs as her side clipped the stony edge on her way down, then there was nothing but air and that sick weightlessness before she hit the water.

If she’d been able to think coherently, she would have cursed her stupidity—not for the first time—for thinking that water from twenty feet up would feel like anything other than concrete, but she wasn’t thinking.

The air had been knocked from her body with the force of a truck, replaced with pain—the pain of falling onto a pile of knives as the sea closed over her.

Freezing was the wrong word. The water was so cold it stabbed and burned, and she was only just lucid enough to remember not to open her mouth and scream. Her lungs threatened to burst and she kicked her legs violently, pain exploding in her side as she struggled toward the lingering brightness that she was pretty sure was up.

She broke the surface just in time to receive the hard smack of a wave to the side of her face. Her mouth, already open to release the pressure inside her lungs, filled with salty water, and she choked, her head going under again.

It was a nightmare on repeat, except instead of waking up, she could feel herself sinking deeper into sleep.

Each kick she made was slower, weaker, her head barely clearing the surface as she struggled for just one more breath. Her legs felt like lead weights, and then like nothing. Up was so far, but it was hard to care because it was dark and quiet and she couldn’t feel anything to kick anyways.

Just as she was about to sink into that blissful nothingness, something latched onto her and yanked, the pain distant as she was dragged from the icy water.

xxx 

Killian had been about to turn around, his last trap baited and dropped, when he heard it. He froze, his brow creasing as he cast his eyes across the peaceful sea, but there was no sign of another boat, of another person.

His brain told him he was hearing things—it wouldn’t be the first time—but his gut told him something else. You didn’t just imagine hearing someone yell fuck, at least he didn’t, and people didn’t just yell such things for no reason. It was strange though, because this was a remote drag of the coast and, honestly, there wasn’t another boat in sight.

Wiping the hair plastered across his eyes aside, he looked back toward land and finally caught movement. There was a flash of something gold on the rocks as the wind blew, and something red.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, almost not believing what his eyes were telling him.

The bait bag fell from his hand and he rushed to get moving and turn the boat. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as the engine sputtered to life, and he urged the boat forward, faster and quicker than she would normally allow, but he was far—perhaps too far—and he knew that the waters beneath those cliffs were dangerous, riddled with underwater outcroppings of rock only visible at low tide.

Time seemed to slow despite the rush of the wind as his boat powered through the waves, his heart dropping and a curse tearing from his mouth as he watched the woman—he could see flashes of long, blonde hair whipping—pitch into the sea below. He was already moving at top speed, and there was nothing he could do except search the waves for a sign of her breaking the surface. He kept his eyes trained carefully on the spot she’d fallen and pulled closer, praying to any gods listening that he wouldn’t catch a rock. He was unable to see them beneath the murky water, but was unwilling to simply leave the woman out of worry over himself.

His eyes caught movement and he cried out as he saw a face break the surface, her mouth open and gasping as another low wave rocked over her, sending her back down. He adjusted course quickly, needing to bring the boat closer to reach her. Again, she surfaced, her arms clawing toward air as she managed a small breath before sinking back under. The wake from his boat wasn’t helping, and as he watched the water slip by him, he picked out the shadow of a rocky ridge to his right. She’d been lucky, though perhaps not so lucky as to be rescued by someone who kept bloody safety equipment aboard.

He never thought he’d have to worry about someone else…

He let the engine stall and rushed to the side as the boat drifted to where he’d last seen her struggling, but as he peered hopefully into the frigid gloom, nothing looked back. Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, he could have sworn his heart stopped, only starting again when he caught a flash of red. He leaned—nearly threw himself—over the rail, his hand shooting into the icy waves where he’d caught a glimpse of her, his fingers wrapping tightly in her hair and pulling, but the drag was nearly impossible. He couldn’t get her like this. Knowing he was tempting fate—and wouldn’t it be cruel, for her to finally give in now—he let go of his grip on the boat and leaned further, his left hand joining the other as he struggled against the sea. His fingers scrambled and found purchase in something, perhaps a jacket. He yanked upwards, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm as he fought to keep his grip from loosening, hauling her out of the waves and over the rail of his boat with every last ounce of his strength.

Pushing aside his own exhaustion and the crippling pain in his left arm, he rolled her onto her side and watched as seawater ran out of her nose and mouth. Her skin was pale and tinted blue, her eyes closed and her chest completely still.

“Come on, love,” Killian pleaded, leaning down to try and catch if there was even the faintest breath, but there was nothing.

He pinched her nose and covered her icy lips with his own, breathing into her once, twice—five breaths, watching her chest rise as her lungs filled, but she didn’t stir. Dread settled in his gut as he crossed his hands over her chest and began compressions, blood filling his mouth as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the pain in his arm and hand doubling as he put his weight into her chest. His mouth covered hers again, desperate to wake her, to bring her back. There was no one to call, the radio on his boat long broken, and he’d never regretted his disregard as much as in this moment.  

Suddenly there was a rush of fluid against his mouth and he pulled away quickly, turning her body to the side as she started vomiting up seawater beneath him.

“That’s it, lass,” he encouraged, letting out a trembling breath as she sputtered and gasped for air before dropping back to the deck, still hovering somewhere beyond wakefulness.

It took only that brief moment of consciousness for the shivering to start, small quivers at her fingertips growing to violent body-wide tremors that made her teeth clatter and her legs pull inward toward her belly.

He yanked his oil jacket off and draped it over her, struggling with what needed to be done next. She was hypothermic, and she may very well die if he didn’t get her out of her wet things and warmed, but if he didn’t get the boat started and get them out of here, it would only be a matter of time before the waves rocked them into one of the deadly rocks that littered the coastline. Splitting the decision, he yanked off his outermost sweatshirt and stretched it across the deck, picking her up quickly and laying her on top of it, still huddled beneath the warmth of his jacket. It would do little good with her clothing still freezing her to the bone, but he needed to get them both to safety.

As he starts the engine, he’s sure he’s never prayed so much in his life, but the universe must have been on his side, because the finicky boat jumped to life. His prayers don’t stop as they move off the cliffs, but he manages to get them out with no incident, and the voyage home passes like the god of the sea himself is pushing them on—the lass must have someone watching over her, because he’s never had less trouble with his boat since he purchased the bloody thing.  

The seconds it takes to slow her down and drift into the dock feels like an eternity, and he ties off quickly and returns to the woman he plucked from the sea, ignoring the pain as he lifts her and rushes up the path towards his cabin. He can feel her shaking against him, and he’s grateful because it means she still has a chance, that she hasn’t slipped away.

He throws himself against the warped front door and barrels into the cabin, swallowing his relief at the warmth. He’ll have to radio in for her, but it can wait until he gets her out of her wet clothes and warmed. He steps easily out of his over-large boots and carries her to the rug nearest the woodstove, stretching her out and peeling off the sopping layers of clothing. A leather jacket and long-sleeved thermal, then her jeans—almost impossible to slide off her skin, skin that’s barely warmer than when he pulled her from the waves—and he moves faster, cognizant of her shallow breathing and shuttered eyes. She’s most certainly hypothermic.

God, it’s been so long since he’s had this much depending on him.

When he finally manages to tug her boots and jeans off, he snatches a quilt from the sofa and wraps it around her limp form, leaving her in the warmth radiating from the stove. The light from the fire casts her cheeks with a sunny glow, making her look more alive than he fears she may be.

He glances toward the two-way, but decides it can wait. She needs more warmth than the quilt, and he rushes off to the bedroom, returning with some of his own items—a warm pair of flannel pants and an oversized thermal. Removing her wet things has certainly lifted some of the pall about her, and when he peels back the blanket, he can see that her lips are less blue, though her body is still trembling from bone-deep cold.

For the first time he really looks at her, swallowing roughly. He knows he should remove her underthings—the black bra trimmed with lace and matching panties—and tries to remind himself it isn’t an abuse of her state, and she hopefully won’t see it that way once she wakes. The garments are soaked, and though they don’t cover much, she won’t warm with them against her skin. Knowing that doesn’t stop the pang in his gut as he carefully slips the straps from her shoulders and unclasps the back, exposing her breasts before he quickly yanks the shirt over her wet hair and down, restoring her modesty. He takes a moment to squeeze the water from her long tresses and wraps the quilt around her torso before shimmying her panties down. He keeps his eyes steadily focused on the far wall, but he can feel her damp curls brush against his fingers as he lowers the hem, and god help him he’s praying again, and he’s not even sure what for. He fumbles the scrap of lace over her feet and replaces it with the soft, warmth of his pajama bottoms, the task not made any simpler by his steadfast refusal to look at what he’s doing, but at least he can sleep knowing he refrained from taking advantage of her unconscious state by ogling her.  

Once she’s completely dry and wrapped in blankets by the fire, her breathing steadies and her skin begins to truly warm, color flushing her cheeks once again. He feels comfortable leaving her side for a moment and gathers her wet things, laying them across chairs near the stove so they’ll dry. He searches the pockets, but finds no form of identification to provide the police with. Now that she seems a safe distance from harm, he allows himself the first chance to puzzle over what in the hell she was doing on the cliffs by herself. She certainly hadn’t been dressed for hiking in this weather.    

He checks to make sure she is still peaceful and well before he crosses the cabin and leans down in front of the two-way radio. He switches on the transmitter and picks up the handheld, speaking clearly.

“This is Captain to SBPD, do you read me?”

He moves the radio back to receive and listens to the white noise, waiting for a response. Another glance toward the rug, but his words don’t seem to have pulled her from her exhaustion. After a full minute of nothing he hits the switch and repeats his call, but there’s no acknowledgement from the other side. He checks the frequency, making a few adjustments and trying once more.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, switching back and dropping the handheld on the table. Of course, this would be one of those times the two-way was buggered.

A slow groan escapes from the pile of blankets on the floor and he rushes to her side. He’ll fiddle with blasted thing when she’s in a better state. Lowering himself to the rug beside her, he feels her brow with the back of his hand, happy that she’s returning to a normal, human temperature. He carefully lifts the blanket from her feet and checks her toes. They’re colder than the rest of her and he wraps his large hands around them, trying to impart some warmth.

It’s then that he realizes the rush of adrenaline is fading, the freezing cold of his sweatshirt sinking into his skin alongside the steady, lancing pain that shoots up his arm. He tucks the blanket back around her bare feet and stands up, shedding his layers as he stumbles into the bedroom in search of something warmer for himself.

For the next hour, the woman alternates between silence and noises of discomfort, though she seems put at ease when he whispers wordless things beside her. Once she settles into a truly peaceful sleep, he pulls back the blankets so she doesn’t overheat and pours himself a glass of rum, nursing it at her side. It barely takes the edge off the pain still twisting in his hand, but he doesn’t dare to drink more.

He knows he should go see to the boat and the things he left off when he spotted her, but can’t bring himself to go. The image of her tumbling form the cliff into the water below replays in his mind, and he thinks again that she must be owed something by the universe to have avoided hitting any of the rocks. He hadn’t noticed any obvious damage when he stripped her of her wet clothing, but he also knows it may take some time for deep bruises to come to the surface. If she were to wake and panic while he was gone, he’d never forgive himself for putting her through more undue stress. So instead, he rests his back against the sofa and studies her face as she sleeps. Her hair is drying into a beautiful, tangled halo of gold around a face framed by high cheeks and beautiful bow-shaped lips. Her eyes were green, he recalls, seeing them flash in his memory.

She snuggles against his legs in her sleep, perhaps looking for more warmth, and he carefully tucks the blanket around her shoulders once more, his chest tightening as she releases a soft exhale against his knuckles.

Unbidden, his thoughts lurch back through the years, to another time, another place, another woman who breathed a sigh against his skin, only to turn and disappear from his life. His hand tightens around the glass and he pushes the memories away. Memories of her often led to memories of Liam, all of them wrapped up in his failings.

Failings that could have nearly cost someone else their life, he thinks, his eyes settling on the woman sleeping against his leg. The vision of her gasping at the surface, breaking the waves only to be pulled back down, it may very well haunt him the rest of his days. He should have had a working radio on the boat, a buoy to throw to her. He should have been anyone else, not half a cripple who could barely pull her out of the water.

He took another drag of the rum and silently begged that it would wash away more than just the chill from his bones, his eyes so caught in the fire as it burned that he didn’t notice her hand reach out and brush his, her fingertips wrapping contentedly around his own, somehow stilling the ache that never left them.

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 22: Princesses With Spears

Cassandra saw the panic take over the Legionites. Even Serafina and Chizoba.

“I said full power!” The scrawny man screeched at the people working the ship.

“We’re trying!” One of them yelled back.

Cassandra looked around at the panic. She immediately grabbed the robes of the person standing next to her, flinging them against the wall. Someone locked eyes on her behind their hood, and she punched them in the face before they could do anything. While everyone was confused, she grabbed the axe, destroying the locked doors of the airship with one lumbered motion. She jumped out, surrounded by ice. Julian’s bear let go of the airship in order to catch her, and then let her down gently.

“What is this?” Cassandra yelled, looking enamoured at the bear.

“My experiments paying off!” Julian yelled back, watching the bear grab the airship once again, only for it’s grip to loosen a second later.

“Oh crap, I’m out of bugs.”

“Hey, you there?” Cassandra asked. “Make an ice spear to the airship. Right in the middle!”

The girl nodded, spinning her spear before slamming the tip into the metal, creating a trail of ice that quickly exploded into an iceberg once it was underneath the trapped airship. Cassandra ran up the iceberg, axe in hand, making one mighty swing to the centre of the airship, causing an explosion underneath it. the explosion undid all the previous icicles as the Legion airship crashed to the ground, and the flock of Legionites quickly rushed out just before it exploded. The scrawny man looked towards the ship with genuine anguish, muttering something to the wreckage before Chizoba grabbed him and ran to the next airship with several others in tow.

Cassandra looked at the wreckage and the man’s anguish. She knew what just happened. She misaimed.

All the other legionites ran to the next airship, and the spear girl launched into a sprint as they started it up. She thrust the spear downward, and the icicle barely scraped the surface of the now escaping airship.

“Wait, no.” The girl whispered. “Oh shit, mom’s gonna kill me!”

“Excuse me.” Cassandra asked, tapping her shoulder. “Just who are you?”

The girl in the jeans and grey hoodie stood still for a second, before removing her hood and turning to face Cassandra with a determined smile.

“Name’s Willow, from Vannana! Glad I could help!”

Just as she made her announcement, Ola stumbled out of her office.

“Willow, I thank you for the save.” She said, still disoriented. Possibly the same guy affecting Cassandra’s airship hit her. “Which is why it really pains me to do this.”

“To do what?” Willow asked, glancing around the dock.

“Cassandra, please stand back.”

Suddenly, several armed guards circled Willow, all aiming guns towards her head.

“Yes, Freyja. She’s here.”

Ola was forced to use the weapons testing facility as a makeshift jail cell, seeing as she’d never hear the end of it if Willow was put in an actual one. Willow looked out of the window with sad eyes, before banging on the wall.

“Lemme out, dammit! I’m the reason you’re still alive! Also, I’m your damn niece! Is this how you treat your niece?”

“That’s your niece?” Julian asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to make sense of it with two working eyes. Turns out having two working eyes is pretty cool.

“Yep. Just doing this because my sister-in-law will be vicious if I’m lucky.” Ola sighed, then went back to her phone.

“You’re landing now? Okay, I’ll bring her out.”

Ola unlocked the door and Willow sauntered out as if she wasn’t screaming a second ago. She was brought to the dock with Cassandra, Julian, a slightly limping Roxanne, and two guards surrounding her. Once they got to the dock, a new airship was landed with four people in front of it. The two at the back were your standard guards, but the woman in front looked over the horizon until she locked eyes with Willow.

Her mere gaze was the type to command attention. Even in her casual wear of a thin ice blue dress and a circular necklace with a white gem embedded in it, all topped off with a blonde ponytail. Behind her was a black guy with a buzz cut and a white polo shirt.

“Hey, mom.” Willow said casually, trying to break her gaze by focusing on the spear.

“What were you doing?” Freyja asked sternly, a few obvious cracks forming in her composure as the words left her mouth. Julian felt the need to stand to attention and fix his posture just by being within a few meters of her.

“Well, I heard the distress call as I woke up and…y’know, felt the need to step in.”

“By stealing the Vannana spear and stealing an airship without any prior notice?”

“I left a note in my room. Besides, if they got the Inariu greave, the only real counter would be another relic weapon, which I know for a fact I wouldn’t be allowed to bring if I told anybody.”

“And what if the airship fell from backup Legionites?”

“I don’t know!”

“Look, let’s think of it this way.” Her husband interjected. “Did she help them win? Because the greave is safe, we know that.”

“Yeah, she was pretty important.” Cassandra added, pointing to the wreckage while not looking directly at it.

“See? I think we can just chalk this up to a victory and say good job all round.”

We went in to hug his daughter, and Freyja glared at him, causing him to back off.

“Fine. We can call this a victory against the legion. Quite good in fact, I’d hate for my sister-in-law to lose her place on the council.”

“Thanks.” Ola said flatly.

“Now then, Willow can take the airship she stole back to Vannana to prepare for the ball. Ola, I will be glad to see you there.”

“Yeah the airship…” Ola started. “You know what, Willow can explain it.”

“The ship…got stolen after we secured the greave. The Legion has it now.”

Freyja had a blank expression on her face once she heard that. Willow backed behind Roxanne as Freyja clasped her hands together.

“Let’s just get you home. The ball is tomorrow, after all.”

“Okay okay okay, wait.” Willow said. “Why not…bring my new friends over?”

“And why should I do that?” Freyja asked. She knew the plot here. Get a subdued berating thanks to others being there.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Freyja’s husband nodded. “These are the people protecting the Skyspace after all.”

“Sounds decent, come to think of it.” Julian nodded with a hand on his chin. “Besides, we should probably thank the leader of Sandala for not sending anyone to steal the axe from us.”

“Oh, did you guys not hear?” Willow replied. “You guys are official citizens of Sandala now.”

“Wait, what?” Roxanne asked.

“Yeah. Something to do with Sandala not technically losing their weapon and still being allowed in the Lux conferences or something.”

“Well, if you must meet Kazumi, you’d be better off looking like you don’t cage fight for scraps.” Freyja muttered. “Get on, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Everyone involved got onto the airship. Freyja and her husband led the way, with Julian and Cassandra entering afterward. Willow entered next, followed by Roxanne. Roxanne tripped as she went in, being picked up by Willow mid fall.

“You all good?” She asked.

Roxanne spent a split second looking into Willow’s eyes. Time temporarily seemed to stop around them as Roxanne tried to recollect herself.

“Uh…yes! Yes, I’m doing…pretty good!” She answered, quickly sitting next to Cassandra, who was just giving her a sly look.

“What?” Roxanne asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Cassandra replied, glancing at Freyja who was standing next to the airship’s pilot.

“Is everything okay back there?” Freyja asked. “Willow, check on the girl with the mechanical leg.”

“You okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah, I just tripped.” Roxanne quickly replied with a dismissive hand wave. “My legs as fine as it can be right now.”

“And nothing needs to be done?”

“Nothing at all!”

“Understood.” Freyja gave a slight nod and once again fixated her eyes on the sky.

“So, Julian.” Cassandra asked. “You ever go to one of these balls?”

“Nothing on this scale.” Julian replied. “But I'll figure it out when I get there.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Willow interjected. “Once we get to Vannana you’ll be taken care of.”

“Oh thank god.” Julian mumbled. The idea of getting his own fancy threads made him nervous at best.

“So I’m guessing you two are going with each other?” Willow asked.

“Yeah.” Julian nodded.

“And what about you?” She asked, pointing to Roxanne.

Roxanne felt herself flare up inside. This girl who she just met was asking her to a dance. She could possibly call Dakarai, but the whole thing between the two was getting pretty awkward. And besides, it’d be a friend thing at best.

“Sounds pretty good, yeah.” Roxanne nodded in an attempt to look casual.

“Willow, I’ve already been in talks.” Freyja interrupted without shifting her gaze. “With miss Nuria if you remember her.”

“You cannot be serious right now.” Willow whispered to herself.

“Her son is about your age, and we think the two of you together would be a good show of our faith in the future generations.”

“Whyyyyyy?” She groaned. “Just say you don’t want me there with another woman.”

“Willow, we’ve discussed this.” Freyja said with a weary sigh. “I am more than willing to let you bend the rules and have women in your courts when you take the throne. But as a descendant of house Vannana, you will bear children.”

“Well, what about the princess of Sangaria? She can’t be that much older than me, right?”

“Luminita is actually going with a boy she found herself. His name is Mr. Bob Dobalina, if I recall correctly. They’re probably getting ready as we speak.”

[immortalitylostandfound]

Invite

For @ummmm-no-thanks​ and the koalas, my second Harringrove for Australia fic. Thanks for letting me write for you! Hope you enjoy!

~*~

Billy’s tripped Harrington up one too many times on the court, apparently. The elbow in the gut out of nowhere is what clues him in.

And Harrington’s grabbing out at Billy’s arm with one splayed slipping hand; has got a fistful of Billy’s sweat-damp hair in the other and he’s taking Billy down with him as he tumbles to the floor.

Which is bullshit.

Billy’d barely even pushed the guy. Fucker never plants his feet.

But it’s fine. It’s great. Because Stevie-boy rolls up to his knees and does something fucking fantastic next. He carries that momentum from the floor into a punch. And the punch is nothing. The punch gets Harrington nothing but this triumphant grin that Billy can’t contain—and the look of confusion on the guy’s face is—just this big ol’ toothy grin, and the fire in Billy’s jaw is about beautiful.

Because finally, finally, Billy’s got King Steve’s attention.

Been leaving the guy be (more or less) for over a week now. Been quiet like Max had demanded, his family jewels on the line. Just watching her. Her stupid geeked-out friends. Watching Harrington.

Wondering what the hell they’re up to.

Now, without even trying, there’s this anger. This formal invitation to get up in Pretty-Boy’s shit. This punch. This dialogue started between them.

They run laps together after practice. Silent. Alone. Coach apparently fed up with their bullshit and leaving them to it. That’s why they’re the only two amigos left in the showers—in the locker room—in the whole goddamn school for all Billy knows, now. Why there’re no other assholes around to make being naked and sudsy in a room together socially acceptable. And Billy has nothing to stare at but all the fading bruises he’d given Stevie-boy last time they’d danced. Nothing to see here but Harrington. Not that Billy’s looking—shit.

“The fuck were you all doing that night, anyway?” he asks—and Harrington knows which night—because it forces Billy to watch Harrington’s face for an answer, except then there’s those goddamn pink—

Water cascades over Harrington’s face, rinsing away his rich-boy sweet shampoo foam. And those dark eyes open. Look too hard at Billy who’s just standing there—Jesus—who grabs a bar of soap to occupy his hands.

“It’s none of your business, Man,” Steve says. “Leave it.”

To which Billy pitches the bar of soap off into a corner. Crowds up on Harrington. None of his business. Tch.

“None of my—the hell it isn’t! That’s my sister you’re—” Not his sister, though, right?

Fuck.

Shoves Harrington out of the shower stream instead of continuing with the talking. Screw the talking. And little icebergs of suds run down the guy’s body as he regains his balance and Billy pointedly doesn’t follow them with his eyes.

Fuck.

He closes on Harrington again. Only now, there’s this mean light in Harrington’s eyes like the guy’s had it up to here and the Pretty boy’s closing the distance to match him.

Their fists meet in the middle. First Harrington’s—oh and that shit’s cute—then Billy’s hard retaliation. And Harrington stumbles back. Slips on the tile. He doesn’t fall, though. Charges Billy instead.

Soon enough they’ve knocked themselves to the floor and are grappling. Elbowing. Rolling and bucking, punching and kneeing and sliding, bare skin slipping across the floor and cut up by the stupid fucking tiles. Tumbling through cold puddles. Scraped raw. And Harrington’s on top of him now, holding Billy down—how the fuck had that happened? Big brown eyes stare down, bright. That flushed victorious face and those pink fucking fuck-me lips are way too close to Billy’s mouth and Billy can’t move. Can’t get away. And he needs to. Like now. Like yesterday.

So he leans up and catches the stupid fucker’s mouth with his mouth—soft lips God God shit. Pushes hard when the idiot inevitably jumps back. Manages to get out from under the guy. Get up to his feet.

And screw showering, you know what? He’s done here.

He hides his softening erection.

Billy punches a dent in his locker and leaves his fist there, leaning in, hanging his head, pressing his raw knuckles deeper to let the pain of it ground him. He tries to get his chest to quit fucking heaving. Lets out a shaky long breath.

“You won’t believe me,” Harrington says, quiet voice from the shower room doorway. Billy looks. Stands. Lowers his stinging fist.

“Try me.”

Billy can believe a lot. In this whole goddamn world there’s nothing that’s what it seems—he knows that much.

He leans back into the locker, cradling his hand. Closes his eyes. For the moment, doesn’t give a shit that he’s naked. That Harrington’s naked. That they’re both here naked together.

And by the time he opens them, Harrington’s too close. Again. Like the fucker knows what it does to Billy and is trying to—

“This came off when we were— Just— Here, okay?”

Guy’s way too close, arms circling Billy’s neck, and Billy feels cold metal settle onto his chest. Looks down. And when he does, their foreheads are almost touching—guy really needs to back off. Billy swallows.

“I think I fixed the clasp thing,” Harrington says, and Billy can feel breath puffing his shoulder when he says it.

Billy closes his eyes and turns his face away. Reaches up to his chest. Feels the medal his mom had— Feels it back where it belongs. Feels the warm circle of Harrington’s arms break and fall to the guy’s sides, one palm skipping over Billy’s chest on the way down and Billy stifles a gasp. Opens his eyes on the disgusting orange walls. Thinks of repetitive chores and algebra. Anything. And his dick behaves.

“The fuck are you so nice for?” he asks, because it bothers him. It’s always bothered him. “I don’t get it. The way Tommy talks—”

“Tommy’s a prick,” Harrington says, quick, and he’s still not backing off. What the hell, Harrington? Back off.

But Billy can’t argue with the sentiment. Puffs a not-quite laugh.

“I dunno,” Harrington goes on, still right there. “Guess I just needed a change—people change.”

Billy puts a hand on Harrington’s chest and it’s a little too long before he can make himself push the guy away.

“No.” Billy shakes his head once. “They fucking don’t.”

He turns. Opens his locker loud enough to end the conversation. Needs to separate himself from Harrington with some goddamn clothes already. Can feel the guy milling around behind him. And why hasn’t the bastard mentioned the kiss? Billy’s ready to lie his ass off about that kiss. The fuck kind of game’s Harrington playing, not mentioning it?

“I’m starving,” the guy says instead, startling Billy out of a patch of unbroken silence. Both of them are dressed and Harrington’s locker closes with a click.

“Tell you what,” he says, hands on his hips and hair somehow fucking perfect already when Billy turns to look. “Fuck the government. Come get a burger with me and I’ll tell you all about what’s really been going on in Hawkins so you can prove me right by laughing in my face when you don’t believe me like I said you wouldn’t.”

Billy considers. He is hungry.

“You buyin, Princess?”

Harrington smiles. Pats the wallet in his fat pocket. Fucker.

“Fine,” Billy says. Slams his locker shut.

Harrington chuckles. Turns to go. Looks back with a wicked grin.

“Promise to be nice and I might even share my malt with you.”

Billy freezes a beat, fist clenched. Thinks of repetitive chores. Of algebra. When Harrington turns and starts walking away, he follows.

But God, does he hate the guy.

God.

~*~

Still have 3800 words left to bid on, but let’s call it an even 4k. Hit up my Harringrove for Australia post and I’ll write you some real pretty shit. Honest.

[demonzdust]

I‘m another anon but I‘m in the bottom Theo squad as well and I will never see him differently. I love your fics because of that and also the characterization (not only in bed lol) and I do ship Thiam too but only with top or even dom Liam like the Alpha in training he is. But I will go down with the Sceo ship as I just love their chemistry and dynamic and the endless potential there is and I wish I was able to write all my headcanons down. So PLEASE never stop?

Well, first of all, thank you for reading my fics and for your lovely comment, and second — OMG YOU SHOULD TRY WRITING SOME OF YOUR HEADCANONS!!!! 

You could send them to me or @sceoprompts​ or something even if you aren’t ready to try writing them as a full fic yourself. 

Or, if you want to come off anon and DM me I’d be happy to try to help you / encourage you to write your first fic! 

Way back in the day I really wanted to post my first Sceo fic but I was having trouble working up the courage to do so and a kind fandom writer ( @accal1a​ ) really helped me. She was my first beta reader and although that work is still left unfinished, I’ve published 300k+ words on AO3 since then. So if I can help you with your first Sceo fic, I’d be glad to. :-)

And yeah, there’s sooo much on-screen chemistry with Sceo. Basically every scene they have is either bubbling over with sexual tension or oozing repressed feelings or both. Their dynamic is amazing and you can dig into so many different aspects of it. I’ve been writing this ship for actual years and I still feel like I’ve barely even scraped the tip of the iceberg of the stories that I still want to tell. I’ve got pages and pages of just short summaries for fics that could each be a 30k fic easy.

I love writing Theo in general, lol. He’s like…both a pile of trash and a really fascinating character at the same time, so that’s really my happy place. xD

But have always been disappointed by how few people write bottom!Theo in any ship honestly. It’s just plain shocking to me. SHOCKING I TELL YOU!! 

I’m actually with you on the Thiam too (I published a thiam fic if you want to read it here and I have a few others that are currently collecting dust in my WIPs drawer but hopefully I’ll one day finish) — between RPs and fic writing I’ve tried tons of Theo ships. All the mains + some super rares. So I do like Thiam but ONLY if Liam is top and it’s at least a little rough or edgy!!! 

Liam yanked Theo around in handcuffs — where’s the edgy bottom!theo thiam fic hiding??? I need ANSWERS!!!

#MORE THEO IN HANDCUFFS 2020

[setsailslash]

Hi! I don't know if you are still taking prompts, but if you are, i would love to see straight macho red hood getting stuck in a wall (or fence) and being used by some thugs and naughty street-rats. Love your work!

so this prompt had me stuck (hah) for the longest fucking time that i almost gave up on it because im not a noncon kinda gal and also because i never could quite figure out a concept that made stuck in a wall trope make sense. but here it is!! classed up because nothing but the best for my boy 💖

warning: this is consensual mob/jay with a bonus scene of (slight dubcon) father/son incest, if that doesn’t float your boat, stop at “daddy dearest” and you will still have all the mob/jay content my gutter trash brain can provide.

Side A.

The tiny bulb over the doorway was nearly inconspicuous. 

It was a simple system really. When it was green, it meant the room was available. And when it was red, it meant the room was occupied.

A hand on the door knob, a twist, and an easy push inwards: Four unfurnished walls in one solid colour and a hole in one. 

Impossible to miss really with the room set up just for this, and Jason got to say, he was impressed.

When he took over the Iceberg Lounge, he didn’t know about the kind of entertainment hidden in the back rooms of the club. He knew Penguin for all of his shady dealings, knew the man’s schedule down to his very last shipment of umbrella machine guns but he never did quite guess the level of depravity within the man’s prized villainous lair. 

He probably should have though.

It was effectively a hole in the wall. The hidden trap door blended nearly seamlessly into the rest of the room. It was evenly padded around the hole in the same nude shade, just enough to make sure there wouldn’t be any bruises or scrapes at the waist even when it got a bit rough. And Jason could only imagine how rough it got.

There was a dimming light switch by the door and even at its brightest setting, the warm lighting of the room was kept low enough for things to be seen but not nearly enough to catch the truly unsavoury details to be examined for long.

Jason didn’t know his masochistic streak ran this deeply but. 

It wasn’t like anyone had to know.

-

Side B.

Jason’s cheeks burned. 

Both his ass and across his face, even if no one could see the latter.

He lost count after the eleventh round, losing time with it too as the way one man fucked him would blend into the next.

At times, it felt as though there weren’t a single pause in between, and he’d imagine one faceless man lining up after another just outside of the door with their cocks already hard and straining inside of their pants. The bulb would turn red to green and right back to red just as quickly when they got their cocks sinking balls deep inside of him in one easy plunge with the way the hole in the wall kept his ass right at fucking level.

A taller man might even have to drag him up by the hips until he was standing on his tip toes to push into him.

At other times, he’d be left alone just long enough for him to clench down on empty, left aching and be given nothing at all. This felt especially punishing when he could feel the cooling trail of semen trickling down the inside of his thighs as he struggled to keep from rubbing his legs together in any sort of attempt to keep from feeling like he’s gaping.

At those times, Jason tried to recall the details, focusing on how he could feel the way the different men would fuck him instead.

Some came easily, a few short erratic thrusts and they were done. Jason barely felt the way they would sheath all the way inside, filling him in girth and depth before they were already coming.

A few liked their foreplay, using what felt like three or four fingers to prod and pull and dig into the rim of his hole, pushing in deep to their last knuckle and aiming right for his prostate. And they would be particularly merciless about it too as they rubbed the rough pads of their fingers over that single spot where he was oversensitized already until they could finally feel the way he tried to squeeze weakly down around their digits as he shuddered through an orgasm before they ever even pulled their own cocks out of their pants. 

There were even men that didn’t just ignore Jason’s erection between his legs. One jerked him off in pace with his thrusts while another reached around and kept a near bruising grip around the base of his cock long after he was rendered to sobbing for relief. This one man in particular had pressed his thumb against Jason’s slit, smeared the tacky drool of precum all over the crown of his cock and kept him on edge until it hurt.

It left him babbling even though he knew the man wouldn’t be able to hear a single word out of him.

On his side of the wall, the room was much smaller where Jason was laying down on his front on a padded board. His skin was slick with sweat and each time they thrusted into him hard enough to rattle the wall a little, he could feel the rub of his hard nipples over the fabric of the thin tee he never considered to take off.

The friction burning raw and hot, pulling whimper after whimper out of him if the man on the other side decided he wanted to be especially brutal with him. 

Slapping a hand down on his ass and squeezing hard, gripping him by the hip to pull him onto his cock even if the hole in the wall provided very little give for that, less than an inch of space if Jason kept the narrowest part of his waist right at the circumference of the hole itself. But it was that tiny bit of drag that forced the free falling moans into a near wail when the man would fuck into him, full force still, pressing his balls right against his backside like he could force that inside of him too.

The sound proofing was good enough that Jason couldn’t make out the sound of the door opening and closing on the other side at all. Sometimes he could hear snatches of the things the men that were taking him would yell as they came inside of him. 

Most of it obscenities and more of it some variation of what a disgusting filthy whore of a public toilet his hole made. 

The dehumanization at being referred to just a hole to be fucked over and over again like a mantra was just enough push him over that edge once more, this time screaming into his fist to stifle the noise. Drool trailing down over the bitten swell of his bottom lip to smear all over his chin as he saw white.

Jason could feel the distinctively warm splash of the man’s cum as he pulled out at the last minute and came all over the small of his back, rubbing the length of his softening cock over the crack of his ass to leave thick sticky streaks of release everywhere before he pulled away completely.

There was a pat against the side of his hip that he faintly registered in the aftermath, like a wordless little good job that made Jason curl his fucking toes into the wet tiles beneath his bare feet.

There was no more room inside of him. 

An unmistakable heaviness inside of his abdomen. He was stretched and stuffed full and dripping wet. He was also pretty sure there was a puddle of cum and who the fuck knew what else at his feet if the feeling between his legs was any indication at all.

Because he was soaked.

His vision was warped by the wetness gathered over his lashes, leaving them clumping against his cheeks. He was still catching the last of his breath when he felt the curl of another man’s hands around the swell of his ass. Felt the dig of the man’s thumbs against his wrecked hole, pulling his rim apart, exposing how ruined he was for anything else.

And Jason could only begin to imagine what he looked like after having been fucked this many times while he was kept pinned in one place.

There was the press of the man’s cock against him, searing hot and thick and going slow as he pushed inside. There was an obscene sensation of the semen already in him seeping out around where he couldn’t quite clench down tight enough with how used and abused he had been all night.

The remaining thought inside of his head as his eyes went dark was this: What was one more time really in a string of many?

-

Daddy Dearest. 

When the light goes dark and stays dark for the night, Jason has already passed out. 

Even though his arms were always kept free and the latches to get himself out of this very literal hole in the wall were all entirely within reach for him, Jason never even came close to thinking about that.

Wingman is the one to come in through the employee side of the room, unlocks the door to the sight of his boss fucked to oblivion. Jason’s hair is a mess and his face is worse off when there’s drying sweat and snot and spit, eyes all red and puffy and still wet with tears.

As he unlatches the hidden trap door that allows the occupant of the hole to come out, Jason barely even stirs. Wingman is gentle as he maneuvers Jason out from it.

A faint groan from a mouth that’s been bitten hard enough to draw out the taste of blood, and Wingman swipes the pad of his thumb over the small split. Feels how lax Jason’s mouth goes as his jaw falls open for him, how easily it is for the man to press his thumb all the way inside of that mouth to run it against the edge of teeth and the soft cloying touch of tongue. 

Jason draws it into his mouth and sucks at it like it’s reflex.

It’s only logical that Wingman shows his boss to another one of Penguin’s back rooms when the time is right. A night much like this one where Jason needs this kind of love but a room where Jason gets to stay on his knees all night as men use him for his lips and mouth and throat until there’s nothing else he knows but the sweet sore ache in his jaw kept wide and the taste of semen filling up his stomach with every cock he takes.

His boy’s gorgeous really when he’s been given the thorough attention and adoration he craves. 

Love not said in any kind of superficial lies but told in actions, in the strict repetition of acts performed until all the evidence amounts to zero deniability. In providing Jason with everything he needs.

Wingman picks him up, brushes the sweat soaked bangs from Jason’s forehead and presses a faint kiss to it with all the affection he can give.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

For all of his misgivings as a father in the early years of this boy’s childhood, Willis Todd likes to think he can start to make up for some of it if he tries his hardest now.

[ceealaina]

Nice Day for a White Wedding

Title: Nice Day for a White Wedding - Chapter 1 Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - FutureFic Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: After years living happily together, Tony has finally gotten up the courage to propose. The wedding is going to be perfect, and all his dreams are coming true. The only problem? Rhodey maybe wasn't paying attention when he asked, and maybe doesn't know what he agreed to. Word Count: 5455 Chapter One | Chapter Two

“… Honeybear? What do you think?” 

Rhodey blinked to find Tony staring at him, a hopeful, expectant smile on his face and oh god. He had zoned out completely thinking about his schedule for the conference he was going to next week, and he had absolutely no idea what they had been talking about. 

“Um,” he said, trying to buy some time, and Tony’s smile dimmed slightly. He reminded Rhodey of the nervous, terrified kid who had walked into his dorm room at MIT, and he would shoot himself in his knee before he would let Tony feel that way again. “Yes,” he offered, hedging his bets. Tony’s smile had been more shy than the manic look he got when talking about armies of robots, so Rhodey was probably safe, right?

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, but already the smile was blooming back across his face, eyes going bright like Rhodey had just made all his dreams come true. “I mean, if you don’t think it’s a good idea…” 

“Yes, definitely,” Rhodey told him firmly. “It’s a great idea. It’s gonna be great.” 

Oh god, he really hoped he wasn’t agreeing to an army of robots. 

Tony beamed at him for a long minute, and even if Rhodey had no idea what was going on, Tony’s smile was contagious and he couldn’t help grinning back at him, laughing when Tony started laughing brightly. Tony’s eyes got a little watery, but before Rhodey could question him on it, he was launching himself forward and wrapping his arms around Rhodey’s neck. Rhodey had no idea what was going on, but he was never gonna complain about having Tony in his lap. HIs arms moved automatically around Tony’s back and drew him in close, the two of them making out in the lab just like old times until Jarvis interrupted to remind Tony about his meeting with the Swiss investors. Tony pulled back, still grinning wide. 

“I love you so much,” he told Rhodey, giving him one final peck before hopping off his lap. “We’ll talk later!” he called over his shoulder, heading out the door with a definite bounce to his step. 

Rhodey leaned back against the desk and sighed, scratching at his chin ruefully. He had definitely just agreed to an army of robots. Pepper was going to kill him. 

*

What with one thing and another, Rhodey didn’t end up seeing Tony again for the rest of the day. He was in bed, in that dozy almost-asleep state, when the door cracked open. He couldn’t help smiling at the ceiling before rolling over onto his side, watching through half lidded eyes as Tony moved into the room, stripping messily out of his clothes. He disappeared into the bathroom and Rhodey drifted off again, waking with a jolt when Tony bounced on the bed a few minutes later. 

“Jesus,” he muttered, earning himself a giggle as Tony clambered over the bed, draping himself over Rhodey’s chest and burying his face against his neck. Rhodey couldn’t help grinning, moving his hand to card through the soft waves of Tony’s hair. “Hey Snickerdoodle,” he whispered, letting his eyes fall shut as Tony’s beard scraped over his neck. “No late night in the lab?”

Tony hummed and then blew a raspberry against Rhodey’s neck, because he was an actual child. “Guess I just missed you.” 

Rhodey grinned again, his eyes still shut. “Missed you too, baby.” He felt Tony shift, and opened his eyes to see him propping himself up on his elbows so he could look at him properly. Tony’s eyes met his, searching them for a long minute before he broke out in a wide grin. 

“God, I love you so much,” Tony breathed, before he was leaning down, kissing Rhodey thoroughly. 

Rhodey moaned softly against his mouth, arms wrapping around his back as Tony shifted to straddle his waist. He had no idea why he was being so extra affectionate tonight -- even for Tony -- but he definitely wasn’t complaining. “I love you too,” he breathed against his lips. 

They kissed lazily for a few minutes, Tony rocking absently on top of him and sighing softly as Rhodey stroked his fingers up and down his spine. “Okay, okay,” Tony said finally, breaking away to nuzzle at Rhodey’s neck instead. “Rain check? I’m wiped.” 

Rhodey nodded, even as his hands tightened around Tony’s back. “You gonna stay here tonight?” he asked, feeling Tony’s lips curve into a smile against his adam’s apple. 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be, honey bear.” 

*

Tony woke in the early hours of the morning, the sky outside still dark. Normally Tony would be bitching about Steve scheduling Avengers meetings before any decent human being should even be awake, but this morning he was in far too good of a mood to complain. He wasn’t even feeling the lack of coffee. Rhodey just huffed as Tony slipped out of bed, burrowing deeper into the blankets without waking up. Tony beamed at him, and pressed a whisper light kiss to his cheek before heading to shower.

He was, as per usual, the last one into the meeting, bursting in at ten seconds to the hour. He slid into his customary seat beside Steve, bouncing his leg with even more chaotic energy than usual. 

“Okay,” Steve started. “Let’s call this meeting —,”

“I have an announcement!” Tony burst out, ignoring all standard procedures.

Steve made a show of drawing in a long breath, scrubbing a hand over his face, but when he turned to Tony his smile was pleasant. “Yes, Tony?” he asked, voice teasing. “What’s so important that it can’t even wait for the meeting to start?”

If he’d been in less of a good mood, Tony would have had a comment in return, or at the very least have stuck his tongue out at the other man, because he was a mature and responsible adult. But as it was… 

“Rhodey and I are getting married!” he blurted out, with no sense of preamble. He knew he was grinning like an absolute idiot, and he couldn’t have cared less. “I asked him yesterday, and he said yes, so uh…  Yeah. We’re getting married,” he said again, because he couldn’t get enough of the way the words tasted on his tongue. 

The room erupted into a chorus of cheers and congratulations. “Tony!” Steve said beside him, sounding absolutely delighted. Tony grinned back at him and then he was being hauled off his seat and crushed into Steve’s broad arms. “Congratulations!” he told him, yelling in his ear to be heard over the epic blessing that Thor was bestowing upon them. (Tony was 99.999% sure that he was just doing it to be a shit.) “I’m so happy for you!” 

He was practically passed around the room then, everyone hugging him and giving him congratulations -- or in Natasha’s case, telling him it was about time that he got his ass in gear. He knew she was really telling him ‘I love you.’ The team could get on his last nerve sometimes, but he loved them all completely. They were so genuinely happy for him that Tony felt his chest go a little tight, had to clear his throat a few times before he could properly say thank you. He would have married Rhodey in the middle of an iceberg with only penguins to bear witness, but knowing that the team would be right there celebrating with him made something he would never admit to go all warm and gooey inside. 

*

Rhodey woke up feeling comfortable and refreshed, with the faint memory of Tony’s lips pressed to his cheek in a good morning kiss. Tony would be Iron Man until he died, he knew, but Rhodey was more than happy to stay semi-retired, piloting the War Machine armour as backup, rather than part of the main team, while serving as the Avengers liaison to the military -- well, the president, now. 

Taking his time with his morning routine, he showered and dressed before finally wandering into the common area with vague ideas of finding coffee and then bugging Tony in that order. Steve was the only one around, reading a book in one of the armchairs, but he looked up when Rhodey came in, beaming wide. 

“Hey, congratulations!” he said, actually getting up and coming over to give Rhodey a hug. 

Rhodey blinked in surprise, even as he hugged Steve back. His promotion wasn’t that big of a deal, could barely even be considered a promotion really. It was more of a structural reorganization than anything. “Uh, thanks!” he said, trying to sound as genuine as possible because it was nice of Steve to be so enthused on his behalf.

Steve grinned as he pulled back. “Tony told us all the big news. He couldn’t wait. He’s… Really excited.” 

And that made a bit more sense. Tony was always inordinately proud of everything Rhodey did, no matter how ridiculous or small. “Yeah,” he said, aware that he was grinning a little stupidly, thinking about Tony. “I’m not surprised. You know how Tony is.”

“Yeah…” Steve was giving him a curious look now, but an instant later his expression cleared and he was back to grinning brightly. “Well still. Congratulations, Jim. Nobody deserves it more than you.” 

As Rhodey wandered off for the kitchen, Natasha materialized by Steve’s side, folding her arms across her chest as the two of them watched him disappear. “Betcha ten bucks that Rhodes has no idea they’re getting married.” 

Steve snorted, turning to her with a smirk playing around his lips. “That’s easy money, Romanoff. You’re not fooling me.” He rolled his eyes at Nat’s arched brow. “Again.” 

“Fiiiine,” she drawled, taking a minute to consider. “Fifty bucks says he doesn’t figure it out before the wedding.” 

Steve considered a minute, thought about how ridiculously excited Tony was, how he’d never in his life done anything by half measures. “You’re on,” he told her, shaking her hand firmly. 

*

Rhodey found Tony, as expected, working in the lab, fiddling with the holographic plans to what looked like Sam’s wings. Tossing a ball across the room for DUM-E to chase, Rhodey leaned against the counter next to Tony, sliding a fresh mug of coffee in front of him and waiting for Tony to look up and acknowledge him. When he did, a bright smile on his face, Rhodey arched an eyebrow at him. 

“So. I passed Steve in the common room. Stopped to offer me congratulations…” He huffed out a laugh at the sheepish look on Tony’s face, tinged by genuine delight. “You told everyone, didn’t you?” 

Tony shrugged at him. “I couldn’t help it!” he protested. “I’m just so excited.” 

Rhodey gave him a fond look, leaning over to kiss his temple. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised,” he mumbled. Tony gave a happy little wiggle. 

“They’re all really happy,” he told him, half distracted by his blueprints again. 

Rhodey took a sip from his own mug of coffee as DUM-E came back up with his ball. “I don’t know why,” he said, tossing it across the room and missing how Tony looked up at him sharply and went still, breath catching. “It can’t possibly be a surprise to anyone. It’s just the natural next step.” 

He turned back to Tony, blinking when he found Tony staring at him with wide eyes, welling up and looking at him with this awed sort of expression. 

“Tones…?” he started, but cut himself off with a grunt when he suddenly found himself with an armful of Tony, the other man kissing him breathless. 

“God,” Tony muttered against his lips, hands fumbling with the fly of Rhodey’s pants. “God, I fucking love you so much.” 

And by the time they were sprawled up together on the too-small cot twenty minutes later, both panting for breath, Rhodey forgot all about asking Tony what had him almost in tears.

*

By the end of the week, all the Avengers were in on the betting, and Steve was torn between his deep-seated need to win at all costs, and wanting to drag it out forever because he was pretty sure this was the funniest thing to ever happen to him.

He was watching tv in the common room when the elevator dinged and Tony and Rhodey walked off, bickering good naturedly over something to do with the War Machine suit. Without looking up at them, Steve poked at his phone and switched to some Lifestyle network previewing the top ten wedding locations of the year. Tony didn’t even seem to notice, but out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Rhodey pause. 

“Uh… Interesting viewing choice there, Rogers.” 

He shrugged. “Never know when you’re going to have to plan a destination wedding.” 

Rhodey snorted at that. “Destination weddings are tacky.” 

Tony did pay attention then, glancing up at the images on the screen, and then grinning at Rhodey. “We are so in sync.” He leaned, giving him a quick kiss, and then grabbed his hand. “Come on, Honeybear. Experiment time. We’re gonna put this to rest once and for all.” 

Steve managed to wait until they’d left the floor before laughing so hard he could barely breathe. 

*

The thing was, Tony constantly had nine million things on the go. He didn’t really have time for things like picking out flowers, and decorations, and deciding on a venue. And, even if he had the time, it was probably better if he didn’t. Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy still refused to let him forget the time he’d decided to redecorate the media room in floor-to-ceiling cheetah print.

Besides, these were all just details. He and Rhodey were obviously soulmates. As long as they were both there, and exchanged vows, who cared whether they had roses, or orchids, or birthworts (whatever those were). Much better to outsource the party planning to the people actually paid to plan parties.

So he’d hired the best wedding planner in the city, and told her to have at it. 

Still, he felt a little guilty for not offering Rhodey any input. 

Rhodey was poking at shit in the lab when Tony came in with a “hey babycakes,” that had Rhodey rolling his eyes, trying to hide the smile that threatened to cross his lips. 

“Hey honey.” 

“So listen, I just wanted to check… Did you want to do any of the planning for the big event?” 

Rhodey blinked and kept his face carefully neutral as he tried to wrack his brain for what event they could possibly be going to.

“I mean,” Tony continued. “I just told the planners to go with their instincts, but it’s not too late if you want a particular cake favour or anything?”

“Um.” Rhodey had no idea what event he was even talking about. It must have been some SI thing. He didn’t remember agreeing to anything, and he had no idea why Tony would expect him to have any input, but if he’d promised to go, he’d promised to go. “I’m good. We should leave the party planning to the people who are actually paid to plan parties, right?”

Tony was staring at him like he’d said something incredible. “That’s almost exactly what I said!” he crowed. 

Rhodey wasn’t really sure why this was supposed to be a revelation, since Tony had never planned a party in his life, and certainly nothing as big as a Stark Industries event. 

“Why sweat the details?” Tony added. “Doesn’t matter, as long as we’re there together, right?” 

Rhodey just stared at him, not even fighting his fond smile this time. “You’re such a dweeb, man,” he told him, softening Tony’s put-on pout with a slow, lazy kiss. “Sure, Tones,” he added in a mumble against his lips. “‘S long as we’re together.”

*

Pepper had known from the minute that Tony called and told her they were getting married that Rhodey had no idea what was going on. Mostly because Rhodey’d been carrying around a ring for two years, and kept chickening out, and there was no way Tony had proposed first without a resulting phone call from Jim throwing an absolute fit over it. 

Pepper planned to stay firmly out of it. 

Honestly, if she’d thought it would be a problem, of course she would have said something. But she knew they’d both be disgustingly ecstatic to marry each other no matter what the situation. So for now, it was endlessly amusing watching Tony walking around even more besotted than usual while Rhodey remained utterly oblivious — except for the brief moments of sheer panic when he realized Tony was asking him about something he had absolutely no memory of agreeing to. 

Besides, those two idiots deserved it for all the ridiculous shit they’d put her through over the years.

It was slightly less funny when she nearly had a heart attack when Steve Rogers pulled her unceremoniously and without warning into an empty conference room. 

“I need to talk to you!” he hissed, like anyone would even hear them through the soundproofing. 

Pepper arched an eyebrow at him, a little nonplussed by how badly he had startled her and trying to play it off. “I can see why you’re not trusted with the spy missions, Captain Rogers.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “It’s about Tony and Rhodey’s wedding,” he told her. “I think there might be a problem.”

Pepper’s other eyebrow joined the first, and she motioned for him to go on. 

“Rhodey doesn’t know Tony proposed. Tony’s going around planning this incredible wedding, and Rhodey hasn’t even said yes! I think we should say something, right?” He gave her a hopeful look, not entirely innocent. 

Pepper blinked back at him, face not revealing a thing; there was a reason May always pouted about her game face on poker nights. “First of all, the extent of Tony’s ‘planning’ involves him calling a service and dragging Rhodey there the day of, so I wouldn’t be too worried about all the effort and energy he’s putting into this. Second of all, I’m staying out of it. Me trying to tell them means they’ll just not-listen harder. They’ll figure it out at the wedding, at the very least. And thirdly…” She folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t be trying to get me to intercede just so you don’t lose your bet, now would you, Steve?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “You know about that?”

“Good lord. Of course I know about that.” She shook her head, clucking her tongue is disappointment, although she was grinning now. “For shame. I would have expected better from Captain America.” Heading for the door, she paused long enough to glance over her shoulder at him. “Besides. I’ve got fifty bucks that says they won’t figure it out!” 

*

“Honey, baby, sweetheart, love of my life…”

Rhodey groaned burying himself deeper into the blankets and turning his face away from Tony and into his pillow. 

“Rhooooo-deeeeeeeeeey.”

Rhodey shivered as Tony’s lips traced the shell of his ear before he placed feather light kisses over the back of his neck. “‘s too early,” he protested, mostly because it was expected of him. “Go ‘way.” He felt Tony’s lips curl into a smile against his neck. 

“Nope.” 

Relenting, Rhodey rolled over onto his back, blinking sleepily up at Tony. His boyfriend was dressed and alert, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him with a grin. Rhodey glared at him and then shoved him until he tipped over, just because he could. “Stop being so in love with me,” he grumbled. “‘s embarrassing.” 

All that got him was a delighted laugh from Tony, an answering smile spreading across Rhodey’s face at the sound. God, he loved Tony’s laugh. 

“I love your laugh,” he told him, because Tony didn’t get true compliments enough, and it seemed important to say, and good lord he was tired. Rhodey scrubbed a hand over his face, blinking a few times when his vision came up blurry. “It’s too early,” he whined again, giving Tony a suspicious look. “How are you so bright and cheery?” 

Tony snorted, rolling onto his side and leaning up on his elbow so he could look Rhodey over with twinkling eyes. “Uh… Probably because it’s almost noon there, Honeybear.”

“What?!” Rhodey rolled over, grabbing his phone from the bedside table and leaving Tony cackling beside him. “What the hell?” 

“Where’s that military training now, huh?” Tony teased, poking him in the side. Of course Rhodey couldn’t let that slide. He grabbed Tony, yanking him over to his side of the bed, their wrestling very quickly dissolving into lazy kisses, Tony complaining about his morning breath and Rhodey ignoring him entirely. 

“Can’t believe I slept till noon,” Rhodey grumped, pulling away when the sleepiness caught up to him again. 

“Well. That is what happens when you stay up half the night playing video games with Clint and Sam.” Tony patted his cheek condescendingly. “You’re not a young thing anymore. It’s okay darling, it happens. Don’t have quite the same… Stamin-ah!” 

Tony cut himself off with a yelp of laughter as Rhodey ambushed him again, dragging him under him for more kisses. “Show you no stamina,” he grumbled, though he only lasted a few minutes before he was flopping back into the pillows with a low groan. “Come on, Tones. Don’t make me get up.” He batted his eyelashes at him. “Ten more minutes, honey?” 

“Can’t,” Tony informed him airily. 

“Because I’m so irresistible?” Rhodey fluttered his eyelashes a little more. 

“Obviously.” Tony leaned in, giving him another quick peck. “But come on, time to get up gorgeous. We’re gonna be late. It’s our final suit fitting”

Rhodey scrunched his face up in confusion. “Suits for what?” 

Tony gave him a deadpan, unimpressed face. “Suits for what, he asks me,” he grumbled. 

Right. The SI thing. Rhodey half tuned Tony out as he started rambling about preliminary measurements and final fits and, for some reason, their matching pocket squares -- why did they have to match? For that matter, why did they even need tailored, bespoke suits? It wasn’t that important, they could rewear something they already owned.

He opened his mouth to tell Tony exactly that, but then thought better of it. Tony probably had a long, rambling justification for why new suits -- with matching pocket squares, apparently -- were necessary. And as long as it made him happy, Rhodey was fine with it. But it also looked dreary and rainy outside, and all he wanted was to lie in bed with his boyfriend and watch dumb action movies while they made out. 

“Hey.” He covered Tony’s mouth with his hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. Tony didn’t even look offended, just arched his eyebrows, looking at Rhodey expectantly. “Or, consider this. You take off all your clothes, put on just an apron, cook approximately fifty pounds of bacon for me, and then it’s just you, me, and Die Hards 1 through 3.” He waggled his eyebrows enticingly. “Come on, Tony. JARVIS takes our measurements, and your tailor has literally never had a less than perfect fit in his life.” He pitched his voice low, rubbing his thumb over that spot on Tony’s hip that always made his breath catch and his body shiver. 

Tony rolled his eyes at him, but Rhodey already knew he had won. “You are a menace,” Tony said, before grinning. “Fine. JARVIS, please tell Giovanni that we won’t be coming into today, and to proceed with the suits as they are.” He leaned in, stealing another kiss. “Just don’t blame me when you trip over your own pants, because they’re too long for your short little legs.”

“Baby, as long as your pants fit right so I get to stare at your gorgeous ass all night, I don’t give a shit what I’m wearing.” 

Tony burst out laughing at that, and Rhodey beamed back at him. 

“Now go! Take off those pants!”

*

Really, Clint’s kind of weird insistence that they all go out to strip club the night before should have given the game away. Or Tony waking him up even more lovey-dovey than usual (although the sweet, lazy wake up sex had been a pretty fair distraction). Or the fact that they were going upstate, for some reason, and that Tony insisted on holding Rhodey’s hand on the way up, steering with his left the entire way there.  

 He was starting to feel a little suspicious by the time they pulled into the parking lot of the inn, the perfect blend of cozy and classy. SI events were usually ultra-ritzy, swanky affairs in glitzy ballrooms in the city. Not… This. And his suspicions only doubled when Tony turned to him in the lobby with glistening eyes, gave him a long, lingering kiss and then pulled back, beaming. 

“See you in a bit, honeybear,” he promised, voice gruff, before he was taking off down the hall and disappearing upstairs.

But it wasn’t until after Pepper had taken him to a different room to get changed with a smirk that he couldn’t quite place, after he’d gotten dressed in that fancy bespoke suit (that fit like a glove), and had Pepper fuss over his hair and his tie and his jacket, after they’d gone back downstairs and he found himself staring out into the beautiful back garden that was arranged with chairs, and an aisle, and what could only be described as an altar, that he realized that he’d missed something very, very important. 

“Oh god,” he breathed, taking a step back and scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t an army of robots.” 

“I’m sorry.” Pepper was behind him again, smirking wide. “What was that?” 

“Pepper!” he whispered frantically. “What is going on? I haven’t even proposed yet!” 

She looked utterly unimpressed. “Really? Come on Colonel, connect the steps.”

“I hate you,” he told her. “You’ve known about this the entire time, haven’t you?” 

Pepper just shrugged. “I had money on the line,” she told him, but then she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Hey, relax. You’re marrying the love of your life. Everything you ever wanted, right?” 

Rhodey could feel the goofy smile crossing his lips. “Yeah,” he admitted, and Pepper smiled right back at him. 

“Then go get your boy.”

And then he was stepping onto the altar, where Tony was waiting for him, grinning with no chill at all, like he couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted. He chewed at his lip as Rhodey joined him, catching his hands and tilting his head to give him a questioning look. 

“You alright?” he asked softly, laughter in his voice. 

“Are you?” Rhodey retorted, making Tony laugh in earnest. “Come on, let’s go.” 

“Alright, Honeybear.” Tony was still looking amused. “Let’s do this thing.” 

*

The ceremony went by entirely too fast and yet they seemed to linger in that perfect moment forever. Tony’s vows were adorable, and geeky, and so perfectly sweet and Rhodey found himself welling up, laughing through tears. And when he stumbled over his own, written less than five minutes ago, Tony laughed delightly, though he was looking a little weepy himself. 

And then Thor was pronouncing them officially married -- before of course Thor was their officiant -- and they were kissing, and it was probably a little too racy for a wedding, but it didn’t really matter because it was their friends, and they were all cheering, and their officiant was a literal god, so who cared if Tony slipped him a little tongue, and if Rhodey had to get his hands on his ass and give it a squeeze.

The grounds for the inn were huge, the reception taking place further down a little wandering path through the woods. The two of them took their time wandering through, hands entwined, and Rhodey couldn’t keep from staring at Tony every few seconds. He couldn’t believe that in just a few short minutes, he’d gone from not even knowing what was going on to being married to the love of his life. He was grinning like an idiot, he knew, but he couldn’t feel stupid about it; every time he looked over at Tony, Tony was already looking back at him. 

The second they’d reached the reception area, though, Tony was tugging him off to a quiet little corner. “You had no idea what was happening, did you?” 

“I…” Rhodey hesitated a moment, because he knew how insecure Tony could be sometimes, and in no circumstances did he want him to confuse not knowing with not wanting. But starting out their marriage with secrets seemed like a terrible idea, and he was pretty sure Tony already knew anyway, so. “Not a clue,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck ruefully. “Still love me?” 

He needn’t have worried. Tony looked at him for a second, doing his best to look stern, and then burst out laughing. He laughed for so long that Rhodey was genuinely concerned about his ability to breathe, putting an arm around Tony’s waist to keep him upright (and also, because he’d take any excuse to get his hands on Tony). 

“Oh god,” Tony choked in, taking in deep gasping breaths as he tried to calm down. “I knew it! I saw your face, when you saw the altar…” He snorted again. “And I could just tell. Baby, I love you, but nothing compares to that look of absolute panic you had. Funniest thing I’ve ever seen. That is… That’s the greatest wedding gift you could have given me.”

“That’s good,” Rhodey told him dryly. “Cause I didn’t actually get you anything.” 

That set Tony of laughing again, and Rhodey just wrapped his arms tighter around his waist, tugging him close, nosing against his neck and pressing soft kisses against his shoulder. 

“You’re really not upset?” Rhodey whispered into his skin. “I feel like a little bit of a dick, not helping plan my own wedding.” 

“Hey.” Tony pulled his head up, cupping his cheeks and holding him steady so they were eye to eye. “It’s all just details, honey. As long as it’s you and me, that’s all that matters.” 

Rhodey beamed at him, and then they were kissing again, letting heat build up between them until Bucky came by and threatened to pour an entire bottle of champagne on them if they didn’t get things started so everyone could get some goddamn cake.

After, when everyone had eaten and the champagne had been poured, when the dancing had mostly petered out and the stars were out in full force in the sky, Rhodey sat sprawled out on a little loveseat, Tony half sideways and half in his lap, head resting against Rhodey’s chest. He had one arm wrapped around Tony’s middle, combing the fingers of his other hand through his soft curls, and Tony was making, soft, sleepy, contented noises. It felt like heaven.

“Hey,” Tony said, voice drowsy. “Blackmail opportunity for life.”

Rhodey squinted at the stars, but he’d had a lot of champagne tonight, and he was pretty sure that made no sense at all. “What?”

“Yeah, Tony continued, still in that same, sleepy tone of voice. “How’re you ever gonna get mad at me again?” He gave a little giggle, the sound making Rhodey feel warm and content all over. “It’s just like. Hey honeybear? Remember the time you didn’t know we were getting married?” 

Rhodey just snorted, tightening his arm around Tony because he never wanted to let him go. “And I’ll just be like. Hey sweetheart, remember the time you didn’t tell me we were getting married?” 

“Excuse me?” Tony squirmed around and Rhodey reluctantly let him go so he could sit up and face him. “I did tell you! I proposed!! How is that not telling you?” 

“But you never once said the words ‘we’re getting married’ in the next six months?” Rhodey just scoffed. “Geez, Tones. Couldn’t you be a little more excited to marry me?”

Tony stared at him for a minute, gaping. Then he was yanking Rhodey in for a kiss, and then, not much after that, the two of them were slipping back up the path to the lodge, stumbling and love drunk and stopping every few seconds to kiss as they made their way to the honeymoon suite. 

And the next day, when the cover of the New York Times was just a giant picture of Tony’s face with the words ‘I MARRIED COLONEL RHODES’ printed underneath in a font that was nothing short of ostentatious, well… Rhodey had no one to blame but himself. 

@tonystarkbingo

[justwritingscibbles]

Anniversary Night

This was commissioned by @venom--angel with Darkiplier.

Hope you all enjoy!  If you want a commission, here are the rules and costs.

The restaurant was fancy. The type of fancy you would only ever see in movies or were rumoured to exist. It was a skyscraper built purely for the rich or famous, with VIP only access to the top floors. With food so expensive, Dark refused to let you see all the prices. He had a small table by the windows, overlooking the vast city far below you. Its lights twinkling like the reflection of the ocean surface at night. 

A starlit world just for you to stare off into as you listened to Dark speak.

At first, you thought nothing of the dress he brought home for you. Gifts, very expensive gifts, were a common occurrence with Dark. Anything and everything you desired, Dark had it for you in seconds.

But after trying it on, showing it off for him in slow, tight circles; lifting up the skirts just enough that Dark glimpse your thighs, he explained why he wanted you to wear it that night.

You’ve been with Dark since the beginning. Or close enough to it.

Damien left with a kiss to your cheek and a bright smile. Leaving you with the last bits of paperwork to do while he caught his flight to see his friends. You hadn’t minded then. But if only you could turn back the clock and beg him to stay and “help you with the paperwork.”

The fate he and Celine suffered had only briefly been explained to you. Sugar-coated by Darkiplier’s smooth voice and honeyed words. He had told you all you needed to know…

“He’s gone. I’ll take care of you now.”

For so long you tried to avoid him. That all too familiar face. The same face you loved, but it wore a different smile. Looked at you through different eyes. It wasn’t Damien. It wasn’t your lover. It was something entirely different. And within a few weeks of listening to his soothing words and leaning into his comforting presence; Darkiplier became something more to you than a nightmarish memory. It was still an unofficial relationship, however.

“An agreement.” Darkiplier had once called it. After spending the night with you for the first time. “One that will benefit us both.”

And so, your “agreement” became your life. Of course, you had a job. You studied and lived comfortably in your own home. But you shared that life with the reflection of Damien. Lying beneath him. Screaming his name through pleasured cries and returning the same comfort to him. Even if he tried to hide it; something about his new life concerned him. And you wanted to be there for him. Darkiplier told you many times that he was not Damien. Sometimes the slip up would end up with you tied to the bed and him between your legs; just to make you scream Dark’s name and remind you the difference. But even so; there was some of Damien in him. There was kindness; hidden beneath some layers. But there it was still there.

And tonight, Dark was allowing those layers to thin and flow away in the breeze. Allowing the softer side of him to show you to your table. To pull out your chair for you and order only the best drinks and food for you.

What was the occasion?

“Since my… return, you’ve been more than attentive to me. Helping me adjust to all… this. Being someone I could rely on. Even become someone I’ve grown more than a little close too.” His smile was so genuine and warm you couldn’t believe this was Darkiplier at first. His grey eyes shimmered with the hue of both souls inside him. Displaying that little bit of humanity that you’ve only ever seen reserved for you.

“And since you treated me so kindly, I wanted to return the favor. With an entire night dedicated to you, my dear.”

He lifted his drink in a subtle display of appreciation to you. You couldn’t help but smile, a little flustered by his words you couldn’t come up with any rebuttal to suit the moment.

“That’s so sweet, Dark. But you didn’t have too.” You said. And Dark scoffed quietly. A playful glint playing across his eyes as he took a slow sip from his cup. Watching you with the same predatory stare he used whenever he had plans for you. And they always involved you naked or beneath him.

“In fact, babygirl, I do. I need to show you how appreciated you are. How infatuated I have become with you. Because my dear, I have come to a conclusion recently. One that has transformed the way I look at you. In a way that makes me want to spoil you. Treat you like a Queen.” His words carried more emotion than his gaze ever could. So much so, that your whole body warmed from his confession. Your smile lengthened and you looked away for a moment. Pleasantly surprised by what you were hearing.

“Spoil me more than you already do?” You decided to answer with. Looking back at Dark with a coy look in your eyes. He chuckled and reached under the table to slide the material of your dress up your thighs and give the supple flesh a squeeze.

“I am barely scraping the iceberg with how much I want to spoil you, babygirl.” His voice dipped into a low rumble. His lips curled as your mouth fell open, brushing his fingers against your core. They were rough but so very gentle. Barely dusting the friction against your clit as Dark leaned over and kissed along your neck. You tilted your head to the side and Dark captured your lips in a heated kiss. His hunger washing over into you as he deepened the kiss. Exploring your mouth with his tongue until someone nearby coughed a little too loudly. You broke away from the kiss first. A wave of embarrassment crashing down on you as you glimpsed the disapproving stares from the other occupants.

“I think it’s time for us to go home, darling.” Dark purred. Not at all ashamed to trail his lips down your neck and leave a large hickey on your neck before moving away. The waiter looked a little embarrassed as he came over to give Dark the bill. Who quickly signed it off and took your hand. Tugging you to your feet and basically dragging you towards the elevator of the tall building. When the doors separated the two of you from the restaurant; Dark pushed you against the wall and crushed his body against yours. Your lips clashed together and soon you were a panting mess against him. With his hand up your dress, fingers sliding through your folds as his teeth and lips worked more along your jaw and throat. The elevator stopped too soon for your liking. Dark disapproved too, since he pulled away from you with a low grunt and slipped his fingers once inside you before straightening your dress and giving you a wink.

“Later, my sweet.” He whispered in your ear as he escorted you out of the building. “I have much more planned for you.”

Keeping your hands to yourself in the car was a nightmare. Dark drove so slow you were confident he was doing it to you on purpose. With one hand on your knee, his thumb drew gentle circles against your skin; you were going nuts just thinking about those fingers going back between your thighs.

By the time you got home, your own hands were exploring his thighs. Every so often drifting over the bulge in his pants. Earning a low growl from Dark every time your fingers curled around him. This night may be for you; but Dark was already being a tease. So, you had to get him back somehow.

You didn’t even realise that you had arrived home until Dark turned off the car and grasped your wrist in an iron grip. Halting your fingers rolling him against your palm. Through the dim lighting of the car, his red and blue gaze bored into you. Watching you as you smiled smugly up at him. He was fully erect. There was no hiding it now. Not after all your teasing. Dark hummed and turned your hand so he was able to press a feather light kiss against the back of your palm. And his next words were rasped and deliciously hungry.

“Go inside. Into the bathroom. Strip. And wait for me.” He nearly growled against your skin. His eyes never leaving your face as you nodded. Excitement bubbling in you as you raced out of the car and into your house.

You spent almost no time unlocking the door and running through the house.

And coming into the bathroom, you were hit with a variety of scents. Lavender being the most overpowering fragrance. Not too much, but just enough to be all you could smell in the tiled room. It was all coming from candles scattered about the room. Lining the bathtub and bathroom shelves. And to top it all off, rose petals were laid out in a carpet of red beneath your feet. Momentarily distracting you as you stooped to pick up one of the petals to see if they were real. It was. But when you heard the front door click shut, you hastily dropped the petal and stripped off the dress. Letting it fall down around your ankles as you quickly took off your undergarments. Leaving you perfectly naked in the centre of the room just as Dark stepped into the doorway.

The look in his eyes caused goosebumps to ripple along your skin. A mixture of need and admiration clashing together through the multicoloured gaze of his. “Hmm, my sweet girl. Look at you.” He purred. Stepping forward to lean down and kiss you. Laying his hands possessively over your waist. Massaging the smooth curves as he pushed you towards the bathtub.

“When did you do all this?” You asked through the kiss. Barely managing to breathe as Dark fervently nibbled and sucked on your lips.

“Before we left.” Dark replied through the kiss. “I’ve been planning this for a long time.”

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dark pulled away and turned you around so you were facing the tub. He stood there for a moment. His hands trailing down and along your torso, playing with your thighs and rolling his palm against your ass. He smiled and kissed the back of your neck. Then he left you alone for a moment to turn on the bath. Running it till steam misted up from the filling tub, whilst adding some nice smelling bubble soap to foam up in the water.

“This is so… romantic.” You couldn’t help but tease. To which Dark chuckled and reached into his pocket and withdrew a very fancy looking lighter. You don’t recall him ever smoking, but you knew that Dark had all sorts of things in his pockets at times. There was a reason you secretly called him Mary Poppins.

“I thought you enjoyed romantic.” Dark replied as he started to light the candles around the bath.

“I like… kinky.”  You grinned. Hugging yourself to savor what little warmth you had now you were naked. Dark smiled, nodding in agreement.

“I know, babygirl. Now, get in before you get sick.”

“Yes, sir.” You cooed. Winking when Dark turned to give you a cocky look. Ever since you discovered that little turn on, you’ve played on it every chance you got.

This time he choose to ignore you. But you could tell it affected him. By the way his tone was hushed and his words were layered with husk.

“Good girl.” Those two words sent a shiver through you. But you blamed that on the vast change in temperature as you slid into the water. It was just above warm, but not too hot to burn your skin. You sighed as you sunk deeper. Letting your shoulders dip beneath the water and swallow you in the soothing embrace of heat. The scents of the candles, plus the bubbles, began to drag you into a dreamy state. Your eyes closed and you let your mind wander free. It was so relaxing. And was made doubly better when you felt Dark’s cool hands take your left leg and began to massage your muscles. You smiled, drearily. Humming your contentment as his fingers trailed and drew patterns along your skin. You barely noticed him dip lower. Squeezing the muscles and scratching along your inner thigh. Lower and lower he went, until your back arched and you gasped quietly as his finger dipped inside you. So slow and gentle that you barely felt him enter. When you opened your eyes, you met his gaze looking down at you. Jacket discarded and his shirt sleeves rolled up neatly above his elbows.

With his free hand, he took your hand and kissed along your palm and wrist. Leisurely moving his fingers inside you. Scraping along your walls and carefully stretching you as he pushed in a second. His eyes never left your face. Watching your reaction as you moaned and twitched in the water. Your voice pitching when his thumb pressed down on your clit; circling it in slow deliberate strokes. Dark did this for a few minutes, enjoying how he made you squirm and whimper. Only stopping when your thighs clenched together and began to shake. When you pouted up at him; Dark moved his hands up to your shoulders. Lifting you up into a sitting position and having you turn so your back was too him. Soon enough, your discarded climax was forgotten. Replaced by the blissful sensation of Dark working the knots of your shoulders. His fingers were firm, but careful. Applying pressure where you needed it most. And occasionally reaching round to cup your breast and squeeze them. Rolling them gently and pinching your nipples between his fingers as your moaned his name softly. Then, lifting his hand up, Dark inserted a finger into your mouth. Making you suck on it slowly. Making his eyes gleam eagerly as you pressed your tongue against him. Swirling around each digit before he pulled it away from your lips and lowered his hand down to your legs. Squeezing between your thighs to insert the wet finger, even though you were half submerged anyway, inside you.

“I could get use to this.” You murmured. Letting your head roll back against Dark’s chest. Lazily rolling your hips in rhythm with his finger’s strokes. He smiled and pulled his hand away. Ignoring your whine of protest as he turned your chin with his hand and kissed you sweetly. Licking along your lower lip and then pulling away completely.

“I might make this a common thing.” Dark said. Leaving you in the tub for a moment to grab a plush white towel and gestured for you to stand.

“And as I said, babygirl,” He murmured as you stood. Eyes lustfully watching the droplets of water run down your body as you stepped out of the tub. “I’ve planned this for a long time. I have more for you to enjoy.”

That lifted your spirits a little. Your tingling core throbbed with the sheer number of ideas that were running through your mind as Dark wrapped the towel around you.

“Dry yourself off, doll.” He purred. And while you busied yourself with wiping yourself down, Dark slid something out of his pocket and smoothed it out between his fingers. He waited till you were dry enough before ordering you to put your hands behind your back.

With a quiet, “Yes, Maser.” you did as you were told. Not at all missing the way Dark’s smile curled smugly at your words.

The material was silk, so smooth and soft you barely felt as it brush against your skin. Tightening until your wrists were bound together and unable to freely move. You smiled softly as Dark kissed along your neck as he finished off the not in a neat little bow.

“Go to the bedroom.” Dark murmured against your neck. “I want you on your back with your legs open.”

You shivered as his cool breath tickled along your skin. Nodding, you hurried out of the room and towards your shared bedroom. You felt his eyes follow your every move as he followed a few steps behind. Watching as you crawled onto the bed and laid back against the pillows. Opening your legs for him as he closed the door and started to strip. He did so slowly. Leaving a trail of material in his wake. Never letting his gaze stray far from your soaking core. Dark smiled and kneeled on the bed between your thighs. Allowing himself the pleasure of pressing his erect cock between your folds. Groaning deeply as the head slipped inside you; only to be removed as your back arched and your lips opened with a moan.

“Such a good girl. Especially for me.” Dark purred. Sighing through his lips as you teasingly rolled your hips. Hoping to entice him and fuck you already. “I didn’t say you could move, Babygirl.”

You barely got a moment to halt your movements before Dark grabbed you and flung you over his lap. You squirmed, trying to look back at him to attempt an apology. When his palm came down with a loud crack against your backside. Dark smiled cruelly as you yelped. Rolling his cool touch over the reddening skin. “Are you going to apologise?” He asked in a low rasp. “This night may be for you; but I’m still in charge, little one.”

His hand slapped against your ass once more. Jolting you forward, but Dark held you securely in place by your bound wrists. Smirking down at you as you moaned softly. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Again.” Dark growled. Another harsh slap beating down on your ass.

“I’m sorry, Master!” You cried. Moaning as he gripped your ass cheek hard. Bruising it as he threw you off of him and giving you another hard smack.

“Good girl.” Dark chuckled. Flipping you onto your back, he spread your legs and hummed at the sight of you soaking pussy. He licked his lips. Briefly looking up at you before lowering his head down and placing his lips against your folds. The first touch was always harsh and sudden. His mouth encased your core, flicking your clit with his tongue in quick, brutal strokes. You cried out. Arching your back to press more of you against him. But Dark held you down by your hips. His fingers leaving red marks as he controlled how violently you moved against him. You felt his teeth being forced against your folds as he fervently fucked his tongue in and out of you. Rolling his lips against your sensitive nub and devouring every last drop of moisture on your skin. Then, Dark struck something inside you. Your voice pitched and your body spasmed as again and again, Dark scratched over that spot.

“Fuck!” You cried out. Tugging on the restraints as you desperately tried to wrap your fingers in his hair and pull on them. Make him moan against your pussy and ride his tongue.

Dark’s gaze flicked up to you and he pulled away, licking you slowly as the cool heat from his presence gradually left you.

Licking your slickness off his lips, he smiled down at you. A low, almost disappointed sound playing from his throat.

“Now, now, Babygirl. Did I say you could curse?” He asked. That same, condescending smile stretching over his mouth. You whimpered, a plea about to sound from your lips. But Dark was already throwing you back over his lap. Your already red ass receiving another harsh smack.

“Apologise, baby.” Dark purred. But you could tell that no amount of begging was going to stop you from cursing. This night was yours, and damn, Dark was going to play you harshly and punish you sweetly.