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neopuppy · 1 year

Note

Bestfriend Jeno who invades readers privacy and goes through her computer filled with videos of ykyk💀

warnings. errrhhmmm🤔 masturbation, yeah..

“Damn, he really did a number on your phone.” Jeno’s fingers drag down the shatter of cracks distorting your screen, neck ticking to the side. “I can definitely fix it though.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I worked at one of those phone repair kiosks a couple summers ago, these screens cost a fortune to get fixed you know? I have a lot of leftover supplies, can probably find something in my stash that will fit.” He informs, patting your shoulder. “Means you’ll have to be disconnected all day though, is that okay?”

“I guess, have some lectures to get through and a group project to finish so I’ll be at the library most of the day if anything.”

“Alright, write down your passcode and maybe your apple log in just in case.” Jeno nods to a notebook, grabbing a pen to hand you.

“Why the log in?” You hesitate, eyeing your phone nervously.

Jeno shrugs, holding your phone out to you. “I only want to help, I know you’re kind of down on your luck right now. I understand if you want to be around when I fix it but today’s one of my only free days for the rest of the week, so..”

“No no, it’s fine.” You sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. “I might be back late, don’t know how long this meeting with my group will take. If you could leave my phone on DND? I’ll probably still be texting from my laptop.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” Jeno nods to his notebook, smiling as you scribble down your passcode and password. “I’ll get this all fixed up for you, free of charge.”

“I’ll have to repay you somehow..”

“What are friends for?” He laughs, motioning to the living room area scattered with your belongings. “Shit happens..”

“Thanks Jeno, everything you guys have done for me..” trailing off, you murmur shyly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and Jaemin for helping me out like this.”

“Don’t worry about it, focus on school.”

After bidding you goodbye and good luck with your project, Jeno moves to his bedroom, whistling to himself as he traces down the largest crack on your phone screen. “Gosh, what a dick..”

He didn’t ask what the fight was about, the timing didn’t feel right with you sniffling as he and Jaemin helped you carry your belongings in. He never liked your boyfriend much anyway, or well, ex-boyfriend..

Jeno boiled it down to jealousy at times, whenever he’d have to witness the unfortunate public displays of affection between the two of you. It’s not that he likes you, not necessarily.. but your friendship hadn’t exactly stemmed from genuine interest in forming a platonic relationship. It just so happened that while he had one idea, your mind had already honed in and focused on another.

“Eh, I always knew he wasn’t right for you.” Jeno mumbles to himself, tapping your phone screen to the image of your now ex-boyfriend’s lips squished against your cheek. “Gross.”

Jeno gets to it, unwrapping a new razor to begin removing the old screen topper first and see the real damage. Lucky for you, he’d gifted you a durable screen protector when you’d gotten a new phone. Great for dropping, not so much for a crazy boyfriend hurling it at a wall though.

He’s pleased to see the damage is a lot more minor under the protector, mentally patting himself on the back for handling that for you in the first place. A text pops up lighting the bare screen. “Oh right, do not disturb.”

Jeno taps in the passcode, swiping down to turn off notifications only to come to a pause as another text comes in.

‘It’s easy money, I did it my first year of college to cover rent, and you're shit out of luck at this point if you think a dorm will open up this far into the semester.’

He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s no way you’d find out anyway..

‘Isn’t that prostitution?’

The last text sent from you has his eyes going wide, quickly reading through the chat between you and the name he recognizes as your best friends, the same one whose car Jaemin had found you using as a makeshift home..

‘It’s not illegal in our state, and it’s anonymous. You won’t get caught or anything. Trust me, I worked there for 11 months, best money I’ve ever made.’

Jeno mumbles a ‘what the fuck.’ To himself, opening his phone to copy down the address she sends in next.

‘Besides, what difference does it make? You were getting fucked by your asshole ex on stream for way less.’

“What?!” Jeno looks around in shock, covering his mouth in case someone else is home. An arsenal of unanswered questions race through his mind, swiping to put your phone on ‘do not disturb’ finally as he takes a deep breath to calm down.

“There’s no way..” he chuckles, licking his lips nervously as he taps open your photos and scrolls until a locked album named ‘delete’ catches his eye.

Jeno spent a year learning different ways to break into stolen phones with not even a passcode to assist, the thrill of unknown has his thumb punching away before he can even talk himself out of it. Not that he would..

Why wouldn’t you immediately delete photos or videos you wouldn’t want anyone to see anyway? You can’t be that stupid..

“Oh shit.”

You are that stupid.

Jeno groans, leaning back in his computer chair as he slowly scrolls through the album of over 1000 photos and videos, most consisting of topless shots. More scandalous as he reaches the middle and sucks in a deep breath reading the time on the first video he sees.

Eight minutes and twenty seven seconds..

Patting around for his headphones, he plugs them in and opens the video up to hit play, sinking deeper into his seat as your face appears half-fucked out with dreamy eyes and saliva wet lips.

The deeper familiar voice he recognizes as your ex’s comes through, making his stomach tighten. “Fuck.”

‘How can you ask me for more after I just fucked you full?’

‘Please daddy, n-need more.’

The camera runs down your bare body, laid back against dark sheets with your thighs hoisted up and open; panning down to where white streaks of cum paint your stomach and mound. ‘Feel that? My dicks still so hard.’

‘Keep fucking me, don’t stop fucking me. Fuck that cum deep inside of me.’

Jeno pants, short of breath as he digs the heel of his palm against his groin and groans. Fuck fuck fuck… he knew it. The past few years of having to pretend he valued your friendship more than his desire to fuck you, he always knew you were nothing but a pathetic sobbing whore. The sound of your sobs and aroused whines vibrating through his ears has him ready to make a mess, smoothing in past the waistband of his sweats to free his length, he’s thankful for the point of view shot; making it easy to tune out the masculine grunts passing between your pretty cries.

‘Fuck. I’ll breed you better than that.’ Jeno voices to himself, surprised your lazy ex didn’t make you get on top. The amount of cum covering your lower half has his hips jumping from the chair, eager to fuck into his fist faster.

One thought continues to pass through his mind as he grips around his cock and strokes to match the pace pushing you up and down along the screen.

He needs to fuck you.

#asks #idk how else to warn this #lmk #this is from the gloryh*le fic #nct hard hours #nct smut

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lazyrants · 3 months

Text

Sportacus on the Move! (prod 136)

Chris Crow (https://www.youtube.com/@handle6324) gave GetLazy an .iso of the ninth LazyTown DVD intended for promotional use only. To finally put the .iso to use, I decided to take all the screenshots in this episode myself. I also watched it using VLC.

Original airdate: May 18, 2006

Story by Magnus Scheving

Written by Noah Zachary, Cole Louie, Magnus Scheving

Directed by Magnus Scheving

Executive producers - Magnus Scheving, Ragnheidur Melsted, Raymond P. Le Gue, Mark Read, Brown Johnson, Kay Wilson Stallings

Starring Magnus Scheving, Stefan Karl Steffanson, Julianna Rose Mauriello

Puppeteers - Gudmondor Thor Karason, Jodi Eichelberger, David Matthew Feldman, Julie Westwood, Sarah Burgess

Sportacus is my favourite character, but this is a clip show AND in the style of an autobiographical documentary. So will I really even like it? Beware - I don't really explain most scenes good enough because they're mostly recycled from other episodes, so I keep it short.

The episode begins with a new cold open (good start!) where Sportacus is riding to town on his sky chaser. Once Stephanie sees him she puts in her letter. Sportacus checks on what she's doing, then she sends the letter. Sportacus rides back to his airship to get the letter, and he does.

We get some narration from Sportacus, who is thanking us for our letters. Some letters that were actually sent to LazyTown Entertainment pop up on the screen, with kids reading out their questions - and there's a big last group yell - 'can I be a superhero?' Sportacus says anyone can be a hero, then he walks through his morning.

Here is a recycled cold open from 'Zap It!' that I'll only explain as my Zap It review was rushed. Sportacus gets out of bed and flips into a pair of skating shoes. He grabs a hockey stick and skates over to his bed. He throws away a cushion then arranges the blanket.

He says that's how you make a bed, then skates over to his cupboard, spinning the hockey stick once more then putting it back in it's place, literally. He declares it breakfast time.

A recycled cold open from 'Dear Diary' - he slices up a banana with a ping pong racket, falls to the ground and tries to catch all the slices in his mouth. Still hungry, he calls for an apple but there are none left. So he decides to have some random watermelon that was on the floor.

Recycled cold open from 'Dr. Rottenstein' - he throws away the watermelon, does some cartwheels, jumps in the air, and now he's handstanding on the watermelon. Then he gets off, throws it in the air and catches it doing a power jump. He twirls it on his finger and it shatters to slices as he drops it on the table, then he eats it.

Now, it's teethy cleany time the Twenty Times way! Sportacus flips onto his aerobics bar, hangs on with his legs, and grabs his toothbrush. He jumps off and starts brushin!

The rest of the LazyTowners are brushing too to 'Twenty Times Time', but that all ends when Sportacus throws the toothbrush out of his accidentally-open door. He jumps out the airship and lands on the sky-chaser, and from then on, it's a mashup of 'Twenty Times Time' & 'Get it Together'. After the whole toothbrush thingy, Sportacus wants to play a little game with the sports spinner.

His first exercise is jumping jacks, and he adds a little Sportatwist to it - in the middle he starts flailing his arms around like those inflated people you see at car shops, then he starts kicking.

Then he just starts to fricking jump. That may just be some practice for his second move and my favourite one - Power jumping! So, he does a bunch of power jumps (no Sportatwists) before going on to a harder move - soccer. A recycled cold open from Soccer Sucker. Meanwhile, the kids are doing nothing!

They're probably bored because Sportacus isn't playing with them, but Milford tells them to do something fun like play basketball, and they all have fun doing so. After he throws back the ball, he says that he's now ready for anything, then something happens. He gets a letter, and reads it.

It's a question about why he moves so much. His answer is that he loves to move, and then he performs Get it Together. Once the song ends, he flips over to his water bottle and puts some water in his cup. Recycled cold open from Miss Roberta - he hits an ice cube using a baseball bat against the walls and it lands in his glass of water and he drinks it.

Then he gets a letter from an unknown person asking him to teach him one-arm pushups. This is my favourite part of the episode. So, he demonstrates normal pushups, triceps pushups, clapping, turning, then he tries ONE ARM!

Then jumping then clapping behind his back! Sure enough, he accomplishes it! Then he does his favourite - one arm, one leg. This is super cool. He calls for paper and a pen and he draws some pictures of his favourite pushups, and of course, a message. He sends his letter using air-mail, but he forgot to sign his name. He runs out, but the door isn't activated yet, so he has to turn the knob a bit. TWICE.

Finally, once it opens, he ties his feet to a white rope, then attaches the piece of metal to it on the magnet of his airship's door. He then dives off, catches the letter, and pulls himself back up. Then he signs his name.

Then he throws it back out. Now it's time for another energy boost. Meanwhile, a recycled scene from Ziggy's Alien - Robbie tries to sleep but is awaken by the sound of a kid yelling for help. In this case it's recycled from 'New Superhero' and Ziggy is falling. Then a recycled scene from 'Sports candy festival' where Sportacus' Club Special is consumed by Sportacus. I have complained about this so many times - but that is a plain lettuce and tomato sandwich.

The crystal beeps. Sportacus says before he saves someone he tries locating the problem, which he almost never does. Liar. So, he rides into the town and saves Ziggy with a skateboard and a comically long scarf.

The crystal beeps again - this time a recycled rescue from the VERY FIRST EPISODE involving Trixie being a moron, Stingy being a moron, Stingy flying in the air, and a seesaw.

Then a recycled rescue combining clips from both 'Sportscandy Festival' & the beginning of 'New superhero'. Milford is carrying a cake, he's about to walk onto a skateboard, but with the help of a carrot, he doesn't. Then a recycled scene from 'Sportscandy Festival' - Steph wants an apple, Sportacus throws a ball at the tree, Steph has an apple.

Then Energy is performed. Sportacus goes back to the airship using the sky-chaser. Robbie who has been looking through his periscope pushes it back of anger, then it comes rolling back and he makes a dive for it.

XD! So, Sportacus flips into his bed, day turns to night, and a recycled ending from the VERY FIRST EPISODE plays! Except this time there's an extra two seconds of Robbie's pained expression after lifting his arm.

3/10 - This episode was a bit boring as it was a lazy attempt to finish the season with recycled clips. The push-up and super spinner sequences really saved it for me, if those scenes were absent I wouldn't have liked this episode AT ALL.

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chop-zulyzulyyy · 1 year

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Throne and Sickle Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Potato Sack ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Turtle bros x fem!parkour!reader

Summary: In which the turtles record their training one fateful night, and find the rooftops hold stories with a beginning. And an end.

(Author Note at the end!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own ROTTMNT, sigh.

Genre(s): A bunch of stuff, really. You'll figure it out ;)

WARNINGS: Heavy topics NOT for the lighthearted; like seriously it’ll get dark in some parts. Mentions of s*xual assault, bl**d, sh*rp objects, and more. Indicator will be the caution emoji next to the chapter title.⚠️

Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. -Hunter S. Thompson

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

‘It took my father seven minutes to die.

I never thought the only man a daughter could depend on would turn out so iniquitous. When it happened, I was too young to understand it was all premeditated, a set up. I remembered screeching tires of cars that arrived at the yard of my house. Figures in sketchy suits barged in on the night of Christmas Eve right after dinner when my siblings and I were watching Mickey Mouse. Our father came from his bedroom- I believed he was there to save us from the bad men- but imagine the damage to our hearts when he waved a welcoming hand over to us and vile words ‘take your pick’ met my little ears. I never saw them again. Those men. My siblings. For as long as I could remember, questions plagued my life…at what point did my father lose morals of a good human being? Why did this man decide his life had more value than his babies? It sparked a fire forevermore. Blistering. Scorching.

Once I turned old enough, it was time for me to act. Father mentioned having a guest over soon, a familiar phrase that caused a cold, eerie dread to seep into my bones. I knew just who exactly was going to come through that door. Lounging in the living room was the devil himself, holding a cold bottle of beer and never peeling his eyes from the television screen as the roar of people cheering football players on enveloped the house. The irony of watching sports like a true American father with a cookie-cutter home, with an apple-pie life- all as if he didn’t commit those horrible sins years prior? Revolting… repulsive. Silently shuffling to my bedroom after breakfast, I hauled my bags from the closet, setting them by the door, including the Mary Janes I removed- leaving me in underwear, and a thin undershirt. The less clothing worn was better for concealing anything that could… stain. I tiptoed to my rickety bed, grabbing hold of the large military blade that belonged to Father, hidden underneath the pillow. Heavy. Cold. I switched my own television on and blaring familiar sounds of Mickey Mouse came to life- poetic justice if you will- and slowly glided to the living room.

Father’s back was facing me into the hallway. One foot before the other, slow, and steady. Crouching low to the ground once reaching the back of the couch, my arm rose at-level to his neck. I steeled up. My grip on the knife nearly tightened to painful pins and needles as circulation dropped.

A shank caught Father’s attention, a quick pressure jamming into the underside of his ear before swiftly disappearing. His hand touched it to find red blotting his fingers, and the second his eyes snapped wide all peace was thrown out the window. The man thrashed, screeching as liquid heat gushed down his body and sprinkling over the couch, completely drenching his hand as he tried to apply pressure to the wound. Lamps tumbled over, his beer bottle shattered and spilled onto the carpet. Eyes deranged; they land on me. Father sporadically tried to reach my small figure but what he didn’t consider was that as the blood left him, so did his balance. Father’s body leaned one way quickly collapsing. A loud thud resounded. Rising from the ground, I was overcome with something. an intangible sensation. Pain? No. Loss? Maybe. Perhaps it was loss of the lives robbed, loss of the father my family and I deserved, loss of the precious future memories that were supposed to be mine. How funny: we used to think Father was our Superman- red cape, dashing smile. But even that old dream was violated by the pool of blood that surrounded him, the same way the red cape would flow around the comic hero like a veil, and on Father’s face was no smile but a horribly contorted sneer. Like spitting on a puppy, this all was…Sounds of car tires screeched to a halt on our porch and immediately dread fell to the pit of my stomach, hands and feet so uncomfortably clammy-

I had to go. Sprinting back into the bedroom, scrambling limbs tried to pull everything on- shirt, jacket, shoe- no no, socks first- socks then shoes- oh, but I forgot the pants-the pants!

Heavy thumps drew closer near the front door, the aging plywood of our porch creaking and mocking me of the impending hell that was my future. Short, quickened pants left me as I stumbled into pants, this time stuffing my shoes into the backpack when sharp knocks pounded at the door. I stilled (I shouldn’t have) and breath stuttering, my vision blurred while the tremors of my body shook. Suddenly crunches of wood exploding snapped me out of it and slipped on the backpack and duffle bag. I then rushed to the window and pushed the stubborn rusty thing upwards.

One leg went through.

Heavy thuds rushed to a stop, clearly spotting the corpse of Father.

My head ducked, body leaning halfway out.

Voices shouted, and the second set of footsteps momentarily alarmed me as they shouted at each other and scraping sounds of furniture gave me the green light to shuffle my bags over. But one set of footsteps came barreling down to my room.

A gasp met my ears and I turned to face the source just as I brought out the other leg and-‘

“Good morning, sugar. Can I get you something to drink to start off?” Blinking (e/c) eyes found a sweet, middle-aged dark-skinned woman standing by the booth, a notepad in hand and untucking a miniature wooden pencil from behind her ear. Glancing at her name tag, ‘Udora’…you smiled. Glancing at her name tag, ‘Udora’ you smiled.

“A coffee, please. Hazelnut creamer if you have any.”

Scribbling, she nodded. “Of course. Are we ready to order or you need a minute?”

“I need a few minutes, if that’s alright.”

Udora’s bow-shaped lips stretched into a smile, warm and understanding, “You take your time. Seems a little early for a high school student to be out. Studying for an exam?”

“U-uhm, no. I graduated a long time ago.”

She blinked, “Hush your mouth! Baby you look like you’re fresh out of the oven. Now what kind of skincare do you use? Spare me some of those secrets?”

This earned a lighthearted laugh, “I get that a lot, but you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Mhmm, I hear ya. I’ll go get that coffee right out for you, sweetheart.” With a wink, Udora left.

Charmed, you let out a deep and quiet sigh. Bringing your wrist up, the miniature numbers on a tiny digital watch read 6 am on the dot. Eating out so much wasn’t ideal when your skills in the kitchen weren’t all that bad, but you barely clocked out of work. Recently your hours tremendously left you aching doing overtime. Not to imply it didn’t pay well- it was your other ‘job’ that left you working for scraps. A blessing it was, for places like Maraschino’s to provide such safe and warm atmospheres, creating a home-y kind of comfort with employees as saccharine as the name. You then thought back to Udora’s accent. Was she from down South- maybe Virginia, or Louisiana? She did have the hospitality of a Southern Belle. Watching rousing venders open up shop from the window, you leaned a hand on your chin.

If only those people knew who, or what, was walking among them in this city. The candy maker on 9th Ave? A young fox youkai peddling earnings for his new kits. The librarian in Brooklyn? A bat demon with a knack for kidnapping benefactors for simply breathing at a frequency higher than she liked. The CEO of one of the greatest hotels around? A mutinous spider youkai. They’ve been around for a whopping 600 years (give or take a century), most emigrating from Feudal Japan. Others came from places like New Zealand, South America, Greece even. It didn’t take long for you to find out the truth, but along the way, as you grew older, mysterious whispers would tickle your ears in the form of a twinkle or two of bright lights disappearing in your peripheral; or flashes of colors dashing from shadow to shadow- you could even recite to the bottom detail of giant aquatic fins you caught flipping around the corner of an alleyway- which it turns out mermaids actually hated musicals and were able to morph limbs, although it was utterly grotesque when they did. Who knew?

But new players entered the game, their existence astounding millions. Mutants, they were called. As amazing as they were, the bitter taste wouldn’t leave your tongue at the underlying truth that nearly all of them were born a human and altered against their will. Figments of information passed around, jumping from one ridiculous tale to another until a common factor surfaced from spies. A respectable scientist became obsessed with mutant migration, forever becoming the black sheep of clandestine creatures concealed all over the world and shifting reality as you knew it.

You followed the slow rise of the sun’s rays glinting over the tips of buildings, and a memory of lights exploding in the night sky and the green skin flashed in your mind.

Right, you heaved another sigh. You made the choice to reach out to this group of meddling mutants and didn’t have a single shred of doubt they knew who you were. Of course, they must’ve been miffed like many others, given the outrageous rumors going around about these ‘Hoods’. It was amusing at first- reporters and news channels loved to stir the pot and the public ate it all up. But with what was happening behind the scenes now, you needed aid. Whatever the turtles may want to know you’d be more than happy to give up all maps, blueprints, hard drives, files, the works. If there was the very possible chance that they would refuse to help, you would not hold it against them. This was your business, you decided to disturb the peace, you caused a ruckus among both humans and nonhumans. You reached out. There was no obligation for others who have nothing to do with you to be brought into this. But one could hope.

Your thoughts came to a halt when a mug was set before you. “Here you go, baby. Anything to go with that coffee?” Udora coaxed. Nodding with a smile, your small hands welcomed the warmth of the steaming coffee mug.

“Yes, I’ll have your pancakes and fruit please.”

You’d forgotten to look over the menu.

Had anyone told Donnie it was time for spring cleaning, he’d have gone straight to the storage chamber and make sure their air filter was functioning, but seeing all the chalky dust enveloping his father’s room Donnie should have done it anyway. He sighed, Leo hacking his lungs out behind him.

“Oh brother what the heck is Dad doing in there? I literally feel mold from 1983 sticking in my lungs.” He grimaced.

Donnie’s tact-shell brought out a clean filter mask; three others hung on the end of the bionic claws- never mind, two others remained once Leo swiped one. Raph peered in from the kitchen with Mikey lazily plopped onto his shoulders as the scuffling and mumbles caught their ears from behind the door. Leo reached over to knock when the door opened, releasing the horror of dust particles that fell over them like an ocean wave. At the door was their dad, eyes squinting in irritation.

“Dad what are you doi-‘

“Nothing illegal! However! What is illegal is the size of my shelves,” Splinter spouted, “why do they make them so tall and fragile? I cannot reach the top without everything tilting over. If everything falls and breaks none of them could be replaced. Relics and precious heirlooms cannot be bought at the chest of hope!”

Mikey snickered, “You mean Hope Chest?”

Donnie deadpanned, “You buy stuff from that thrift store all the time.”

“Treasures comes in all forms my sons, that is lesson number 49.” Splinter stated, wisely pointing a finger up.

“I thought you said lesson 49 was that many people are alive because it’s illegal to shoot them.”

Everyone whirled to Mikey, who blinked in innocence before frowning at the rat. Raph put his hands on his hips, “Dad! What are you doing telling Mikey that stuff?”

Leo groaned, “Okay okay, moving on. What the heck are you doing in there, Pops? Are you looking for something because Donnie is more than happy to help- ya know cuz he’s got no life.”

That earned a smack upside the head. Splinter huffed, surprising the boys when he returned into his room, waving inside. “Come, I require assistance!”

The boys groaned louder, although practically zooming in. Splinter pointed up to the tallest shelf the sewers could fit. Wooden boxes, cardboard boxes, cloth bags mounted each other in heaps. There was no logical reason to own so much stuff and never use whatever was inside, Donnie’s eye twitched continuously.

“The item I seek has to be in one of those storage boxes- Blue! A portal, please.”

With a shrug, the red-eared slider waved a mystic blue circle to life. Reaching in, Leo brought out an old canvas bag. Splinter shook his head, “No, I don’t believe that is the one.”

Leo drew a carboard box. “No.”

A mesh shopping basket. “No.”

A garbage bag overfilled with old cassette tapes. “No.”

“We so have to watch those later.” Mikey whispered over to Raph, both sharing a mischievous grin.

Irritated, Leo then pulled out a-

“Why do you even need a potato sack?!” Donnie snapped. Splinter brightened, “Yes! That is what I was looking for.”

He jumped up and down as Leo set it on the ground carefully. The boys curiously gathered around him, stunned as to what could be so precious to their dad to warrant such childish behavior. Watching in anticipation never tested their patience more as Splinter untied the strings, and gently lifted the first thing piled up inside.

“Who’s that?” Mikey quipped, pointing. In Splinter’s hand was a small black and white picture, old, worn, and nearly tearing at the edges of a girl around their age, sitting in a booth of some kind. Tired eyes glassed over, and a smile stretched his lips as a wrinkled clawed finger caressed the photo.

Raph put a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Pops?”

Splinter cleared his throat, “Ah, yes, there is nothing wrong. I am just preparing for something very important.”

Leo crossed his arms, “Dad.”

With scrutinizing gazes, Splinter sighed. He passed the photo to Raph as he was closest to him, who then flipped it over.

“First corn dog– 1994.” He read before passing the photo over to Mikey, “Does tomorrow got something to do with her?”

Splinter nodded, “Today is the anniversary of a fateful day. When our paths crossed, I saved her life, and when we reunited, she saved my life from dangerous pickpockets. I remember how brave she was, falling from the rooftops to stop the criminals even though she shook like a leaf.” Splinter then chuckled wistfully, “I gave her quite an earful when I then discovered she knew not how to fight and simply ‘took a bash at it’. My, my, a silly one she was.”

Mikey saddened, “Oh, is she…?”

To their surprise, Splinter frowned. His hands tightened into fists.

“That, I’m afraid, I do not know. She disappeared. I could not find her, no matter how far and wide I searched. It has been many years…how I wish I had an answer to what happened all that time ago. But our story goes further back than that.”

By now the boys had taken it upon themselves to sit down in a circle before their father, as he was lost in thought. Raph, Mikey, Leo and Donnie observed between their dad and the photo when collectively they then noticed the state of which she was in. Rotten clothes, mud blotched all over her and it looked like she didn’t even know what a shower was. Except… the small hesitant smile overcame everything else, as she proudly held up a corn dog as though it was a trophy earned and won. Splinter rummaged through the potato sack, pulling out a small bundle of cloth and unwrapping it to reveal a surprisingly dangerous looking military blade. It didn’t look as vicious as how weapons usually are, but this blade was crumbling with rust, bent, and clearly used to its full capacity.

“Let me tell you a story, my sons. A story about a young child escaping a dark fate from her own home many years ago, and how she became my inspiration to fight for justice.”

As a fish would be caught on a hook, the boys eagerly settled themselves near their father as he began.

“The year was about…1988 I believe. Before my years of fighting crime, I peddled my earnings in California, working under various employers. I was young, about seventeen years of age, and foolish. Never desiring to be anything more, never caring for others. Until one day… a fateful encounter changed my life forever. I picked fresh peaches as many as I could afford at a market when I felt a tap on my leg. A tiny little girl asked me if I knew where she could buy some bread, though all she carried was one quarter. She would never get to buy one with just one coin, so I gave her five dollars and two of my peaches, even if it left me with nothing. As I watched her disappear into the crowd, something inside me told me to follow her. And I did. I understand I am not a perfect example, but a father…a father would fight tooth and nail to protect his children, my sons. What I saw holding that girl by her hair was no father… but a monster. I remember how lifeless that child looked, although obedient. Quiet. He squashed the peaches I gave her, assuming she had stolen them. I found out that day through the eyes and ears of the streets that this man was known to be in very horrible trouble with local gangsters, and he paid his dues by… by selling his other children. During this time, I knew nothing more than the innocent bystander, but I would not stand by and watch that man…that thing have custody of the poor child. Many times, I tried calling for help about the situation. I visited many places day after day, hoping to find someone who could help. None believed me, so I then decided to do it myself.

But it was too late. When I arrived to the home, a fatal wound to the neck left him no chance of survival. I searched the home, and I caught a gangster contacting reinforcements. If my instincts were correct at the time, he was a client of that man. I defeated him, and quickly searched further to find the poor girl just as she was exiting the window, covered in splatters of red. Unfortunately, she feared that I was an enemy and tried to flee as fast as possible. I followed her throughout the city, amazed such a little human could go to extreme lengths for escape, but she was still a child. She had no knowledge that a path she had taken would lead to the roof of an old building. Unbeknownst to either of us, a large hole covered in fragile plywood gave way under our feet and nearly dragged us down to our deaths many stories below. When the dust cleared, I could not find her and I had broken my leg. I had thought the worst… until a small cry underneath a pile of debris caught my attention. I crawled to her despite my pain and dug through to find a poor bloody mess of a little girl. She could not see with how much had gotten into her eyes. It frightened me. No matter how long it took, I stayed with her. I stayed from day to night, until help arrived and found us. She never spoke a word except for her little cries, so so afraid as she clutched onto my clothes. I recall those who came to help tried to take her to receive medical attention only for her to call for me. ‘Mister Peach’ she pleaded, ‘please don’t go away.’ I-”

Splinter cleared his throat, caressing a small pink beaded bracelet he brought out from the bag. The boys exchanged a worried look. He then handed it down to the boys, passing along more of the old and golden memories that stayed collecting dust all this time.

“I could not ignore her cries. And so I remained. However, despite that one nightmare had finally come to an end, another began. Her father’s enemies caught word of what happened and were furious. Men were sent out on hunting parties for the final child they were supposed to be gifted. Remember my sons, I was young and foolish. I had left my home to forge my own path. It pained me so to see I could not afford to help the child more than she could all the while fighting to keep myself afloat. I… I could not even get enough money to buy her supper, or a blanket. Not even a crumb of a cracker. Yet each time she gave me a smile. Each time she communicated that I was still more of a man than her father ever was to care this much about her. She even ate garbage alongside me at one point. But with a heavy heart, I had to let her go.

I had to let her go…

I took her to a bus stop in disguise. This pink wig is what she wore, and these hideous polka dot pants. She believed if she could dress similar to a clown, she could make me laugh. And laugh I did. I remember her telling me that she would find me again one day. Fear had dictated all the previous years of her life and yet was stronger than I was, keeping me from falling to my own demise in a dark time of my life. Because of her I found confidence in my circumstances and trained to be skilled in martial arts- to make a name for myself. A legend. Despite living longer than she, I was the one who needed her more than she needed me. However, when she boarded the bus I did not realize she would take my heart with her. I will never forget the little hand that waved goodbye to me through the window.”

Mikey sniffled, clinging to a wobbly lipped Leo as Donnie stared hard onto the little bracelet in his hand. Raph tightened his grip over Splinter’s shoulder, eyes heavy seeing his father slump under the weight of these burdens. The elder rat reached into the sack, shuffling around until he pulled out a crumpled stack of carnival tickets. The corners of his lips lifted.

“Time passed us by when we crossed paths again, just as she promised! At first I did not recognize her when she saved me from those pickpockets but one look…one look was all I needed to know. She had grown into a beautiful young lady, but she was still the little girl who called me Mister Peach, and she was my Little Momo. It was the best day of our lives. We got to enjoy a carnival, we got to eat a full meal together, and it was like no time had gone by. Then when the moon rose I had to return home, and I had enough to properly care for her this time…but she refused to come with me.”

The whole time as Splinter recounted his story, the boys have leaned further into the circle completely entranced by the tale. When their father frowned, they held their breath. When he smiled, tension left their bodies. But right now, pain overcame the elder rat, eyes glassing over without warning and they knew whatever came next from their fathers mouth it would haunt them, just as it did him.

“She wouldn’t answer my questions as to why, not a single peep. The last thing she ever told me was to keep believing in myself, and that my existence was magical. The first blessing she had ever received- and hoped with all her heart our futures would know only love, and family. Before she left, she placed something in my hand but I could not tear my eyes away from her and look down. And that was the last I ever saw her.”

Splinter crushed the stack of tickets in his hands, “If only I had not been so blind with hurt and anger that she did not stay, I would have fought harder to keep her here where she could be safe. I would have helped her…”

The last item he pulled out remained hidden in the palm of his hand. Raph, Leo, Donnie, and Mikey felt their blood turn cold, faces morphing into horror.

There in his hand, lay a tiny little baby pacifier.

“I should have fought harder to protect her, and her unborn child.”

Kids. Games and tricks and fun and joy. Their laughter could brighten up the whole world without trying. It doesn’t even matter what they’re laughing about because people will end up hearing the laughter the world should have.

Trudging up the stairs to your townhouse, belly full, you smiled at the children playing tag on the street. Some wore their mother’s pillow covers as superhero capes, some swiped their father’s helmet and sticks to play soldiers, and some even used chalk to turn the street into a baseball diamond. A delighted gasp left you once witnessing a petite little girl in a dress whack the ball out of the ‘field’, and all the boys groaned when she put out a thumbs up grinning victoriously, while two kids acting as spectators used soda pop bottles as microphones. Peering back at the sidewalk, you guaranteed the bottom of your shoes would be stained in colorful chalk. But you couldn’t find it in you to mind at all. The large oak door let you into your home. A spacious rustic-style place, courtesy of inspirations from scrolling endlessly on Pinterest (A/N: I have an attachment issue with this app help).

Walking up the spiraling staircase to your bedroom, your bones creaked and popped. You’d be willing to bet your organs that stairs were everyone’s nightmare- they could be the most accomplished athlete in the world, but they’ll take the elevator each time. Setting your messenger bag down to your bed and shifting through your items, the edges of cloth brushed against your fingertips. You took the item out of the bag and ran a thumb over the soft texture- a simple mask wouldn’t be enough to remain anonymous with eyes and ears everywhere as it did before, you knew. If things went well with the turtles, then maybe…maybe you wouldn’t need to wear it again. You turned away when the sun’s reflection bouncing off of something made you squint. Atop your dresser, sat a photo encased in a glass frame. Small, very small it was: taken at a carnival photo booth. One figure smiled back at you, his charismatic persona outshining the bashful female next to him despite her failed attempts at smiling like him. One of his hands enveloped hers to help make a peace sign, while his other had a thumbs up. Even when she looked like garbage, and dirt covered her from head to toe, he wanted a photo with a street beggar who didn’t own even two nickels to make a dime.

You grabbed hold of the miniature frame and settled into bed with it resting over your heart. Now that you finished the night shift, it was time to sleep the day away and replenish what your body desperately needed. When the days and nights knocked you down in the real world, comfort could be taken in the dreams that lulled you so.

Tomorrow... you thought. Today’s burdens were enough, and you’d deal with what came next...tomorrow. As reality faded and your body cooled from the breeze that came through the window, you thought that, for just a moment, you could smell peaches.

Sweet dreams.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Fun fact: Mikey is an Ornate Box turtle! Its distinct coloring camouflages it among the damp earth, fallen leaves and other debris found on the floor of moderately moist forests. Also, Ornate box turtles eat live beetles, caterpillars, cicadas, and worms. I just hope Mikey never puts them in his recipes. Ew!

A/N: WOOW. I’m sorry I don’t have a schedule set up, guys. School and other responsibilities have been kicking my tush so- kinda recovering from a burnout. Yikes. But I’m still working on this I promise! Stay tuned :)

Translations:

Momo: Japanese term for 'Peach'

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jktechnology · 3 months

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JK Technology: Leading Apple MacBook Screen Replacement Services in Mumbai

When your Apple MacBook screen is damaged, it can disrupt your daily routine, affect your productivity, and, ultimately, be a major inconvenience. Fortunately, residents of Mumbai have access to expert repair services at JK Technology, a trusted name in Apple MacBook screen replacement. This blog will guide you through the process of Apple MacBook screen replacement, highlight the importance of professional repair services, and explain why JK Technology is your best choice in Mumbai.

Understanding the Need for MacBook Screen Replacement

MacBook screens are designed with precision and high-quality materials to deliver an exceptional user experience. However, they are not immune to damage. Common causes of screen damage include:

Accidental Drops: A sudden drop can crack or shatter the screen.

Pressure: Excessive pressure, such as sitting on the MacBook or placing heavy objects on it, can damage the screen.

Water Damage: Spills and exposure to moisture can cause screen malfunction.

Dead Pixels: Over time, pixels can die, leading to spots or lines on the screen.

Hardware Failure: Internal components related to the display can fail, necessitating screen replacement.

Recognizing the symptoms of screen damage early can save you from further complications. Common signs that you may need a screen replacement include:

Visible Cracks: Any visible damage to the screen glass.

Discoloration: Unusual colors or distorted visuals.

Lines or Dead Pixels: Horizontal or vertical lines, or spots where pixels no longer display correctly.

Unresponsive Screen: The touch function, if applicable, becomes unresponsive.

The Importance of Professional Screen Replacement

While it might be tempting to attempt a DIY screen replacement or seek out the cheapest repair option, professional service is crucial for several reasons:

1. Quality Assurance

Professional repair services, like those offered by JK Technology, ensure that only high-quality, compatible parts are used. This guarantees the longevity and functionality of your MacBook after the repair.

2. Technical Expertise

Apple MacBook screens are complex and require a high level of technical expertise to replace correctly. Professionals have the necessary training and experience to handle the delicate components without causing additional damage.

3. Warranty Protection

Many professional repair services provide warranties on their work. This means that if anything goes wrong with the repair, you are covered. DIY repairs or unauthorized services can void your MacBook’s warranty.

4. Time Efficiency

Professionals can replace a MacBook screen quickly and efficiently, minimizing downtime. Attempting to fix it yourself can be time-consuming and may result in extended periods without your device.

5. Safety

MacBook screens involve intricate electrical components. Professional technicians follow safety protocols to prevent hazards such as electric shocks or further damage to the device.

Why Choose JK Technology for MacBook Screen Replacement in Mumbai?

JK Technology has established itself as a leading provider of Apple MacBook screen replacement services in Mumbai. Here’s why they stand out:

1. Experienced Technicians

JK Technology employs a team of highly skilled and experienced technicians who specialize in Apple products. Their expertise ensures that your MacBook is in safe hands and that the screen replacement is performed with precision.

2. Genuine Parts

Using genuine Apple parts is crucial for maintaining the integrity and performance of your MacBook. JK Technology sources authentic parts directly from reliable suppliers, ensuring that your MacBook functions like new after the repair.

3. State-of-the-Art Facilities

The repair facilities at JK Technology are equipped with the latest tools and technology required for MacBook screen replacement. This ensures that the repair process is efficient and that your device is handled with care.

4. Comprehensive Diagnostics

Before proceeding with the screen replacement, JK Technology performs a thorough diagnostic check to identify any other potential issues. This comprehensive approach ensures that all problems are addressed, providing you with a fully functional MacBook.

5. Transparent Pricing

JK Technology believes in transparent pricing with no hidden costs. You will receive a detailed estimate before the repair begins, so you know exactly what to expect.

6. Quick Turnaround

Understanding the importance of your MacBook in your daily life, JK Technology offers quick turnaround times for screen replacements. Most repairs are completed within a day, allowing you to get back to your routine without significant disruption.

The Screen Replacement Process at JK Technology

Replacing a MacBook screen is a delicate process that involves several steps. Here’s an overview of how JK Technology handles MacBook screen replacement:

1. Initial Consultation

The process begins with an initial consultation, where you describe the issue with your MacBook. The technician will ask questions to understand the extent of the damage and any symptoms you’ve noticed.

2. Diagnostic Assessment

The technician will perform a thorough diagnostic assessment of your MacBook to confirm the need for screen replacement and identify any other underlying issues. This step ensures that the repair will address all problems, not just the obvious screen damage.

3. Detailed Estimate

After the diagnostic assessment, you will receive a detailed estimate that includes the cost of the screen replacement and any additional repairs needed. JK Technology’s transparent pricing policy means there are no surprises.

4. Professional Repair

Once you approve the estimate, the technician will proceed with the screen replacement. Using specialized tools and techniques, the damaged screen is carefully removed and replaced with a genuine Apple screen. The technician will also ensure that all connections are secure and that the display is calibrated correctly.

5. Quality Check

After the screen is replaced, a quality check is performed to ensure that the new screen is functioning perfectly. This includes checking for dead pixels, touch responsiveness (if applicable), and overall display quality.

6. Final Diagnostics

A final diagnostic check is performed to ensure that all issues have been resolved and that your MacBook is in optimal condition. This comprehensive check guarantees that no problems are overlooked.

7. Customer Handover

Once the repair is complete and the MacBook has passed all quality checks, it is handed back to you. The technician will explain the work that was done and provide tips on how to care for your MacBook to prevent future issues.

Tips for Preventing Screen Damage

While JK Technology is always ready to assist with screen replacements, taking steps to prevent screen damage can save you time and money. Here are some tips:

Use a Protective Case: Invest in a sturdy protective case to shield your MacBook from accidental drops and impacts.

Handle with Care: Always handle your MacBook with care, avoiding rough handling or placing heavy objects on top of it.

Avoid Spills: Keep liquids away from your MacBook to prevent water damage.

Clean Properly: Use a soft, lint-free cloth to clean the screen, avoiding harsh chemicals or abrasive materials.

Regular Maintenance: Schedule regular maintenance checks to ensure that your MacBook is in good condition and to address any minor issues before they become major problems.

Conclusion

A damaged MacBook screen can be a significant inconvenience, but with professional repair services from JK Technology in Mumbai, you can have your device looking and functioning like new in no time. Their experienced technicians, genuine parts, state-of-the-art facilities, and commitment to customer satisfaction make them the best choice for Apple MacBook screen replacement.

Don’t let a damaged screen disrupt your productivity and daily routine. Contact JK Technology for reliable, efficient, and high-quality MacBook screen replacement services. With their expertise and dedication to excellence, you can trust that your MacBook is in the best hands.

#JK Technology #apple macbook screen replacement in Mumbai #macbook battery replacement in Mumbai #MacBook Screen Replacement In Mumbai #MacBook Screen Replacement Near Me

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irepairmacs · 1 year

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Numerous Justifications for Visiting Mac Screen Repair iPad Screen Repair

Mac Repair in London may be necessary when your Mac screen is damaged or not functioning properly. A damaged screen can be frustrating and can affect your ability to use your Mac. In this blog, we will discuss some of the common reasons for Mac screen repair and when it may be necessary. Your Mac screen may require repair for various reasons, such as a cracked or shattered screen, dead pixels, backlight issues, or other display problems.

Reasons Why You Should Go for Mac and iPad Screen Repair in London:

Expertise

London has a number of specialized Mac and iPad repair centers with experienced technicians who are trained to repair Apple devices. Mac Screen Repair London technicians have the necessary skills and expertise to diagnose and fix any screen-related issues with your device.

Genuine Parts

For iPad Pro screen repairs in London and Mac repairs, repair facilities only utilize original Apple components. This guarantees that there won't be any compatibility problems and that your device will work correctly following the repair.

Convenience

London is a large city with many repair centers that offer convenient locations for customers to drop off their devices. Many of these centers also offer same-day repairs, making it easier for customers to get their devices back in working order quickly.

Cost-effective

iPad Pro Screen Repair London is often more cost-effective than purchasing a new device. In London, there are several repair centers that offer competitive pricing for their services.

Warranty

Macbook screen repair in London offers warranties on their repairs, giving you peace of mind in case something goes wrong after the repair. This means that you can have your device repaired with confidence, knowing that you are protected against any potential issues.

MacBook screen repair and iPad screen repair may be required for various reasons, such as:

Cracked or shattered screen: Accidents happen, and your MacBook screen may become cracked or shattered due to a drop or impact. In such cases, the screen may need to be repaired or replaced.

Black or white spots on the screen: If your MacBook screen has black or white spots, it could be due to dead pixels or other screen-related issues. A screen repair may be necessary to fix the problem.

No display on the screen: If your MacBook screen is completely blank or not displaying anything, it could be due to a hardware issue. A screen repair may be required to diagnose and fix the problem.

Conclusion:

If you are experiencing any of the above issues with your MacBook screen, it is recommended that you take it to a specialized repair center to get it fixed by an expert technician. Going for Mac Repair in London is a wise choice due to the expertise, genuine parts, convenience, cost-effectiveness, and warranty that repair centers in London offer. If you have a damaged Mac or iPad screen, it is recommended that you take it to a specialized repair center in London to get it fixed by an expert technician.

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iphonerepairmelb · 2 years

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Gadgets You Can Get Reconfigured at iPhone Repair Malvern – Visit for Estimates!

It's quite distressing to drop your expensive device and have it shatter. The only course of action in this situation is to go to a shop of iPhone repair in Malvern. To check for repairable damage, skilled engineers inspect gadgets with their tools. They typically succeed in eliminating all unintentional defects. Before discarding the device, you ought to pay them a visit once.

In addition to fixing your phone, phone repair shops can copy any recoverable data upon request. Reputable workstations offer screen fixed Melbourne for a variety of devices with different screen sizes, such as tablets and desktops. Reputable repair shops will never let you leave without inspecting your device; they do this to see whether they can stabilise it once again.

The Following Gadgets Can Be Fixed by Reputable Phone Repair Services:

Mobile devices (IOS/Android) – Whether you have a broken iPhone (old or new) or an Android phone (Galaxy, Sony, Oneplus, Nothing, etc.), skilled repairers will try to restore both the appearance and the performance.

Tablets – They might offer repair services for well-known tablets of all sizes, including the iPad Air, the Samsung S7, S8 lite, and other models that are now widely available in the marketplace. They can assist with anything, regardless of whether it is hardware issues or software faults.

Apple Smart Watches – The most well-known and dependable smart Watches in the world, Apple Watches, may also be fixed. They may assist with the software update as well as changing the straps, front glass, and panel.

Desktop and laptop systems – With the assistance of knowledgeable IT experts, Windows and iOS computers can be upgraded and repaired.

Therefore, skilled engineers can assist you in getting your equipment up and running again. Reliable repair businesses react quickly and let you know if they can fix your damaged or malfunctioning gadget. Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on a new iPhone, it is preferable to have your existing one reconfigured.

Visit a reliable iPhone service centre nearby to ascertain the right repair cost, including the parts.

Source

#iPhone Repair Malvern #screen fixed Melbourne

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cloudystevie · 2 years

Note

step dad! ransom making you give him a thigh-job (send tweet)

pairing || stepdad! ransom drysdale x reader

word count || 2012

warnings || stepcest, pussy job, dumbification, slight anal, degradation, daddy kink, ddlg undertones, cheating

18+ MINORS DNI DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

stepdad! ransom is now officially a thing on this blog and idc how depraved it is😊🙏

It has been exactly 6 days and 3 hours since you and Ransom had… engaged in less than acceptable activity. But in all those 147 hours, give or take, all you’ve thought about was Ransom. Despite having engaged in those less than acceptable activities with him, it felt like the tangible tension was even higher than before.

When passing in the halls, regardless of the expansive space for both of you to easily move past one another, he insists on pressing right up against you, big hands falling on your waist and breath fanning dangerously close to the sweet spot on your ear, before he winked at you and walked away. Every. Single. Time.

When you wake up in the mornings, opting to sleep in as minimal clothing as possible due to the excessive heat, you stroll downstairs only to find Ransom in all his sweaty shirtless glory, gulping down his protein shake, Adam's apple bobbing with each movement. You can’t even get your morning iced coffee without dripping down your legs.

Needless to say, you have been very, very restless.

And incredibly frustrated as to why he was not making a move despite obviously teasing you this whole week. Your first solution to combat your sudden high sex drive was to use the toy he had used on you. But, no matter how high you made the vibrations, anything you fantasized about, it was never satisfying now that you had your fantasies come to life.

It’s another late night, nearing 1 am as you huff and roll out of bed, on your way downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water and something to satisfy your grumbling stomach. As you walk down the stairs, you see the large flat screen TV light illuminating the dark living area. Your mother was out on a ‘business trip’ yet again which meant Ransom was down here either already fast asleep or fully awake and able to fall prey to your teasing.

If he was not going to make a move, you were. And you just hope the sequence of events falls exactly how you hope.

You try to peek over the sofa to get a sense of whether he’s awake or not and when he rolls his shoulders and relaxes back into the couch you smile to yourself.

You needed attention, and you needed to think quickly.

Filling up your glass of water, successfully grabbing his attention without directly looking at him you mentally pat yourself on the back. From your peripheral vision you can see him getting up and walking over to your place in the kitchen, how was this all falling into place so easily?

“What are you doing up so late?” His voice disturbs the silence in the room and you jolt, dropping the glass of water making it shatter and a small amount of water seep over the wooden floors. You gasp as his arm wraps around your waist, and he easily places you on the marble island, the cool surface touching the back of your warm thighs was just slightly uncomfortable, but anything to see Ransom’s back muscles moving swiftly.

This could not have been executed any more perfectly.

“You scared me!” You whisper yell, making him shake his head, “At least lemme clean it up.” You attempt to get off the counter, feet just about to touch the ground before he’s tutting and placing you back up on the counter, nose mere centimeters from yours and you can smell the masculine cigar and whiskey making your stomach clench. His deep voice grumbles and caresses your senses, consuming you, “You already made enough of a mess, don’t need you slicing up your feet.”

Biting your lip you hope your fluttering lashes paint a picture of innocence and with the way his nostrils and flare and jaw clenches you know you’ve completed yet another stage all within a few minutes.

He backs away and grabs the broom and you sigh, playfully swinging your legs back and forth as you shamelessly gawk at him. “Where’s my mom.” You ask, playing clueless only to watch his jaw clench yet again, he was hot when he did that.

“Fucking Bucky.” He replies bluntly.

You watch as he finishes up, dumping the glass into the trash can and wiping the floor clean of the water.

“And what are you doing?”

His head snaps toward you, and his eyes are laced with the emotion from the afternoon by the pool, and you’re honestly surprised he fell into your trap so easily, if a little bit of your honey pouted lips and fluttery eyelashes was all it took you wouldn’t have waited this long to get what you wanted.

Yet, he doesn’t respond. The silence in the room gets unbearably loud as the palpable tension nearly reaches its breaking point.

Then it does.

“Why aren’t you fucking me right now?” Your voice is sweet despite the lewd words. You barely have time to process his single stride crossing the space between you and him and the way his thick fingers wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you into him, “You think your tight little cunt can take my big cock? Hmm? Think a little baby like you can handle someone like me?” His words are laced with venom, though it does nothing to quell the ache in between your thighs as you shamelessly moan, attempting to grind your hips into his, to no avail.

“Please daddy! I can’t stop thinking about your cock! I don’t care how much it hurts I need you to fuck me!” You mewl.

A grunt escapes his lips and it seems he’s barely hanging on to his last threads of control. His hand tightens around your neck and your hands scramble to grasp his wrist, the soft light deepening the defined shadows of his face. “I said no you dumb little baby. It’s not gonna fit. Stop acting like a slut.” He spits but you don’t listen, your desire overtaking your self-respect.

“Please daddy don’t you wanna fuck my tight pussy? Don’t you wanna stretch me open and make me cry? Look at how wet I am daddy please your pussy needs you so bad!” You dip your hand down the waistband of your silk pajama shorts, whimpering at the touch of your fingers exploring your wetness before sliding your hand back up, your slick glistening in the low light and coating your fingers. You're about to bring your fingers up to your mouth before he captures your wrist in a swift motion, muttering something unintelligible under his breath and sniffing your scent.

You can see the tent in his boxers growing and you bite your lip. He brings your fingers into his mouth and sucks off your essence, and you watch in awe.

It seems his restraint finally snaps as he lets go of your neck and rips your shorts off into two clean shreds, making you gasp, “Those were my favourite!”

He ignores you, wrapping his hand around your thighs and pulling you closer to the edge of the island, staring at your glistening folds as you desperately attempt to find any friction for your swollen clit. His hand swiftly comes down to slap your pussy making you cry out, he smirks and does it again and again and again until you are leaking over the counter and coating your thighs with arousal. “Daddy! Please! Just fuck me already I can’t wait!” You plead.

“Greedy little slut hmm. You want my cock? Fucking take it out then.”

You happily comply, hands flying to pull down his briefs to display his large erection slapping against his bare stomach, tip leaking with pre-cum and the veins even more prominent now. You ache to have him in your mouth. You try to wrap your hands around him but he swats you away making you whine and huff. “Daddy give me your cock!”

“Shut the fuck up, you think you can disrespect me like that? I’m your daddy, stupid girl. Don’t make me take you over my fucking knee.”

So you try a different approach, “Please daddy? I’ve been so good haven’t I? Your little pussy has been waiting all week for you to fuck her! Please I’m sorry I just can’t wait anymore!”

He smirks, sliding the head of his cock on your wetness, abs tensing when he prods the head of his cock against your tight hole, there’s no way he would fit in there, yet. “Oh poor little pussy just waiting to be used by daddy. Too bad daddy doesn’t want to split this little cunt in half before I do even half of the things I’ve been thinking about.”

He continues to rub his cock on your wetness, cherishing your cries and pants. He takes pity on you, you’re just too sweet not to.

“You wanna let daddy use his pussy?”

You nod your head quickly, getting even wetter at the prospect of his cock stretching you open. “I’m not gonna fuck you, yet, since you’re so fucking desperate to please me, you’re gonna give me a pussy job.” He smirks.

You whimper as he begins to slide his cock against you with more purpose, “W-what’s a pussyjob daddy?” You question, you weren’t entirely inexperienced but you also were mostly innocent when it came to sexual stuff.

He laughs at you, cooing and wrapping his hand around your jaw, “Oh stupid baby, you’re such a slut but you don’t even know what you’re begging for hmm? It’s okay, your daddy is gonna teach you now. A pussyjob is when horny little girls with tight cunts can’t get fucked but they need to be used, so they get rubbed on like cheap fucking sluts.”

You whine, panting and sticking your tongue out subconsciously, his words making your brain melt as you succumb to the delightful fuzzy feeling and all you can feel is the heavy weight of him against you. His balls slapping against your even tighter hole and you mewl even louder at the idea of him trying to fit inside there.

It’s like Ransom knows what you’re thinking because he pushes his thumb into his mouth before bringing it down to your tighter hole, just pressing there and you jolt at the pressure, “Fucking slut, can’t take me in your pussy but you want me in your ass? Don’t cry when I force myself inside you then little girl.”

The tip of his cock nudges your swollen clit over and over making high pitched hngh’s fall from your parted lips. “P-please daddy I needa cum! Needa cum so bad!” His cock slides over to the bottom of your stomach, his head falling back as he grunts, grip tightening on your thighs.

“I don’t know slut, do filthy sluts like you deserve to cum? After you forced yourself on me?”

You sob, eyes clenched shut, “Please I’m so sorry daddy needed you so badly needed your cock please let me cum please!”

He speeds up, balls slapping against your ass with more ferocity as he twitches against you, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been trying to do all fucking week? You know how hard it’s been to ignore you while you prance around in your slutty little clothes? You need attention from your step-daddy that fucking bad you depraved little cunt?”

You squeal, your orgasm washing over you suddenly making your whole body shake, squirting all over him as he grunts, covering your stomach and pussy in his spend. He groans your name as you chant his title, hands scrambling to grab hold of anything while he holds your quivering body in place.

He recovers much quicker than you do, smirking at your stomach and pussy marked with him. He feels a bloom in his chest, a territorial feeling inside him, needing to take control of you. He takes in the sight of you, slumped against his chest now, orgasm making your mind fuzzy.

Your step-dad still had so much to teach you.

#ransom drysdale imagines #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #stepdad! ransom #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader

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littleredwing89 · 3 years

Text

AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

Warnings – Language. Kidnapping. Stalking. Mild Violence. Angst. Hurt.

Word Count: 4,870

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone, sorry for the little delay, I was working on a few of the actions scenes to ensure they were good. I really hope you all like this xoxo

~~~

It had been almost a month. Every lead turned into a dead end. Nothing. Much like the Joker himself, no one knew a thing. The whole thing was tearing Jason apart. He’d barely slept. He’d maybe had 3 hours per night. If that, and he was convinced the only reason he got sleep was because Bruce had slipped him something in his coffee.

The fourth cassette tape came with a dead yellow rose and a rotten apple. He pushed play on the recorder and swallowed thickly as the grainy camera zoomed in on your face. You looked pale. Your cheeks looked hollow and your once colourful eyes looked gaunt. Haunted.

“Well Jason, I’m a man of my word...I’ve been looking after her so good”, Joker laughed hysterically and smoothed his hand down your cheek, smacking it lightly. The slap caused you to jolt in the chair. A sharp gasp flew out of your chapped lips.

Jason felt Bruce’s hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. The notion sent a brief wave of calm through Jason. Maybe this was how Bruce felt all those years ago...when he received similar tape of ..of himself. Jason turned back to the screen and focused his eyes. Searching for a clue. Anything. Something to bring you back to him.

“She’s been such a good little princess bird boy...she’s done everything I asked...and more”, Joker whistled happily as he tapped your nose with a wicked smile. Jason felt his heart stop and looked directly into your eyes through the screen. Good he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

The tape skipped and replayed the same thing back, “...and more”. It skipped again, “...and more”. Jason growled and the tape paused before going completely black.

His fist smashed into the computer keyboard, pieces of black plastic scattering across the desk. Jason released a loud sobbing noise and sank to the cold stone floor of the bat cave. His eyes scrunched shut tightly, imagining you were in front of him. Giving him that silly smile you always did when you first woke up. It was one of his favourite smiles. You had hundreds of different types of smiles. The one you gave him when he hugged you randomly. The one you’d give him when he told you a stupid joke. The one you’d show him when you were both standing down one of the grocery aisles for no reason at all.

“Jason...son - we will find her - I promise you”, Bruce’s deep voice shattered Jason’s illusion of you in his mind.

“It’s been so long...what if-”, Jason ran a hand over his face. The stubble was longer, causing him to itch.

“Don’t”, Bruce warned, “don’t think like that. We will find her”.

~~~

The last cassette tape Jason received was covered in a dark, red sticky substance. Jason knew what it was but he didn’t know if it was yours. Before Jason could even think about playing it, Bruce had prized it from his fingers.

“Jason we need to analyse the blood, it might give us a clue”, his voice was stable and deep. He attempted to reassure Jason with a firm grip to the shoulder but it did nothing. Jason felt empty without you.

“We need to watch-”, Jason started but was interrupted by Bruce.

“No, I’ll watch it. You need to get some sleep, let me do this Jason. Please”, Bruce pleaded desperately, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours”.

Jason laughed but it was hollow and sharp, “You really think I can sleep knowing she’s stuck with that fucking psycho?!”.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Jason I know you want to get Y/N back”, he placed the cassette onto a high tech scanning machine, it bleeped repeatedly as it scanned over the material, “But we all need to be working together and that means recharging our batteries”.

Jason scoffed and pushed past Bruce looking over the computer scanner typing something into the system, “So you’re telling me you went and had an eight hour sleep when Joker caught me?”.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jason”.

“JUST STOP!!”, Jason's voice cracked as he shouted and for a moment, he sounded like the broken man in the abandoned shopping mall that long Halloween night many years ago.

“I-I need to do this Bruce. I-I have to, for Y/N”, his voice was scratchy and raw.

Bruce simply nodded and turned around. He extracted the cassette from the blood stained cloth and pushed it into the player to the right. Bruce took a secondary glance to Jason, giving him one last option but Jason just stared at the screen, waiting to see what the tape would show.

The second the tape played, the batcave was filled with your screams. They sounded broken and dry. Jason’s heart shattered. The shards stabbing him painfully. As you came into view on the camera, your long h/c hair was matted and stuck to your face. Blood staining it a deep red.

The Joker came into the view of the camera and smiled wide, his teeth showing.

“Jason, I see why you’re so attached to this woman, she’s very fiery...her spirit is impenetrable”.

A flicker of evil flew through his eyes at that word and a sick smile slid onto his lips, “but that’s fine. I’m sure I can find more penetrable spots”.

You tug harshly at your binds as he turned and came closer to you, a small blade held in his gloves hand.

“Hold still princess or I might accidentally cut an important part of you...or slit something”.

The blade cut the straps of your top, and the material fluttered down uselessly to the floor, exposing your padded black bra. The Joker whistled appreciatively and winked back at the camera.

“I say Jason...maybe I’m missing out not having a significant other...especially when they’re as beautiful as this”.

Jason had edged so close to the screen Bruce had to pull him back. Tears were running hotly down his cheeks and he swore he tasted blood from biting down on his bottom lip.

Your voice echoed through the empty warehouse room and through the camera speakers, “GO FUCK YOURSELF”.

The Joker smirked down at you and the blade was pressed against the skin of your neck.

“You should watch your manners, princesses don’t speak like that”.

You gulped and looked into his soulless eyes and laughed. It almost sounded as maniacal as his.

“I’m not your fucking princess”.

You spat at his face. Your spit mingled with blood from the earlier smack around the face.

“He’ll come for me...I know he will. And when he does, it’ll be all over for you”.

Something snapped and you saw his eyes darken. His face twisted and the scowl was demonic.

“You filthy fucking bitch!”, he roared and dropped the knife to wipe his face.

Joker turned to the camera and glowered, “I hope you’re watching Jason whilst I teach this rotten little whore some manners!”.

The first blow caused you to cry out in agony. It was harsh and fast. The sound to Jason was ear splitting. The second hit was drawn out and heavy. Designed to bruise. The third was sharp and felt like hundreds of tiny needles piercing your skin. The Joker was laughing wildly all the way through it. Never ceasing his treatment. As he swung his arm back for the fourth hit, the camera jarred and caught a window. Streams of light shone through. Jason could just about make out a sign. It was blurry.

“REWIND AND PAUSE IT BRUCE! There!!!”, he called and waited for Bruce to zoom in.

“Can you clear up that image...that looks like a road sign...”.

Bruce skipped the tape back several seconds, muting the sounds on the screen. The sounds of you getting smacked in the face shaking him to his core.

“THERE!!! LOOK!! Can you see?!”, Jason pressed his face as close as possible to the screen as Bruce paused it, the image flickered but the road sign was obvious.

ACE CHEMICALS.

Before Bruce could even react, Jason had launched himself across the cave, guns strapped to his thighs.

“Jason!”.

Jason ignored Bruce and grabbed his helmet, securing it into place whilst dropping extra magazine clips into his inner jacket pockets.

“Jason, we can’t just go in there all guns blazing. That’s what he’ll want! We have to think about this”, Bruce reasoned and moved into his path.

Huffing in annoyance, Jason’s modulator covered it easily, “I’m going to get her whether you come with me or not”.

Bruce looked stunned for a split second before softening his voice, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you - they’re clouding your judgment Jason”.

He knew he was right, deep down. But the pressure. The torture you must have endured. Everything. It weighed down on Jason and began to suffocate him slowly. The more time he wasted, the worse it was going to be. He couldn’t do it.

“Let me get into my suit and we’ll tackle this together”.

Nodding briefly, Jason watched Bruce make his way across to the darkened corner of the cave where his suit was behind a glass panel. As Bruce pressed his palm into the wall, the biometric scanner bleeped. The case slid open slowly and Bruce began to take out the suit piece by piece. The batarangs refracted the light they caught from the computer screens.

Fuck. It was taking too long, these precious seconds. He could be half way there by now. His bike was too far away, in the garage at the front of the manor. He side eyed the batmobile and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck it”.

Taking the keys from the secret sliding panel on the desk, Jason leapt into the batmobile before starting the engine and speeding out of the cave. He swore he heard Bruce shouting, he was certain he heard several curse words too. Unlike Bruce. But it was taking too long. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave you. You needed him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

~~~

Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

“Come on...come on!!”, Jason cursed to himself, hitting the steering wheel in fury. All the money Bruce had and it wouldn’t go any faster? He took a sharp turn heading towards the abandoned warehouse behind ACE Chemicals. He was so close. So much closer to reaching you. He’d deal with Bruce later. He couldn’t have waited any longer. Bruce would just have to get over him ‘borrowing’ the batmobile.

Swerving another corner and narrowly dodging the underpass columns, he pulled up in front of the derelict building. Almost all of the windows were smashed and hued green with mould. Maybe some of the toxins spewed from the factory had helped taint the glass further.

Grabbing both of his pistols, Jason left the car and headed towards the building fire escape. He could hear voices chattering.

“Joker said to keep an eye out for Batman”.

A goon; Jason noted peering around the brick wall spotting two of them. He noticed the metal railings above them creaking slightly in the strong winds.

“It’s been over a month now and there’s been no sign of any of the Bat freaks, it’s fine, let’s go grab a beer. He won’t even notice”, a second one encouraged the other smirking.

“You really want to cross him? He’s fucking nuts. I’m surprised the girl has even lasted this long with him, you know what he’s like”.

Jason’s fist tightened around one of his guns at the mention of you. It had to be you. Silently firing his grapple gun, he flew up the side of the building and made his way towards the goons.

“Trust me”, the first one spoke again, “He won’t even realise we’re gone, plus we might find some chicks to-”.

Perching on the railings above them, Jason leapt down cracking the base of his pistols onto one of their heads.

“Pleasure to meet you both”, Jason kicked out at the second goon hearing the sick crack of his ankle snapping.

Spinning on his heel, Jason grabbed the other goon and threw him face first into the brick wall knocking him unconscious immediately before turning back to the other man on the floor whimpering in pain.

“Where is she?”, Jason’s voice was strained even with the modulator protecting him.

The man refused to answer, dragging himself away from Jason with his hands, mud covering his palms.

Taking a large step, Jason reached the man on the floor and purposely stood onto his swollen ankle before aiming the cocked pistol towards his skull.

“I won’t ask again, where is she?”.

The screech from the man was deafening as Jason applied a hefty amount of pressure to his fractured bone.

“Basement!! She’s in the basement!! Please!!”, he begged as his eyes flickered nervously to the gun.

Jason rolled his shoulders before smashing the hilt of his pistol into his skull knocking him out cold. He turned back towards the fire escape and grappled back up to the roof. He’d have to make his way through the building to get to the basement. To you. And if he knew Joker, he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The two idiots on the front door were a sick joke. Tormenting Jason. Getting you back wouldn’t be an easy task.

~~~

Silently dropping through the window on top of the building, Jason landed onto one of the rusty steel girders. It was dark but his helmet adjusted the night vision so he could see clearly. Several goons patrolling an old foreman’s office in the centre. You had to be in there. He needed to take these idiots out quietly before getting to you.

Swinging across to the next rafter, Jason looked down at the first unsuspecting moron. With the stealth of a panther, he landed silently behind the goon before wrapping his arm around his meaty neck. He struggled against the iron grip of Jason’s forearm but the pressure only intensified the more he thrashed. Eventually the squirming stopped and the goon fell limp in his arms. Jason dragged him across to a darkened corner and dumped him behind some barrels.

As he grappled back up to roof beams, he looked down across at the two henchmen digging out a packet of cigarettes. The idiots had left their guns resting against the far wall. Jason had to chuckle to himself, Joker really was hiring morons. Weren’t these guys supposed to be protection?

Jason creeped across the rafters towards the two men and grabbed both of his pistols. He had to be silent. He couldn’t alert Joker to his presence.

“This is my last smoke”, one complained bitterly as the cigarette perched between his thin lips.

“I’ll get the next packet, quit your whining”, the second growled and patted his jacket for a lighter, “Fuck, where did I put my lighter?”.

“You’re a fucking moron. You asked to come for a smoke and you don’t even have a light!!”.

Now was his chance. Jason landed between them both, his boots thudding as he hit the concrete floor, “You know, smoking is bad for your health”. Before either of the goons could react, Jason lifted his elbow into the larger man's throat before smashing his pistol into the other man's temple, causing him to drop onto his knees. He slipped his guns back into his holsters quickly before turning to the other goon. He dodged the larger man’s grapple before twisting with ease and kicking out his kneecap. The man gasped but the elbow to his throat had killed off his voice.

Jason threw a heavy right hook into the larger man's nose and watched the blood trickle down his face. This seemed to only infuriate him more and he launched himself towards Jason viciously. Gripping both of his arms, Jason flipped the man over his body and slammed him into the floor hard before hammering punch after punch to his face, knocking him unconscious.

He turned quickly to the other man who was scrambling on his knees for the gun resting against the far wall.

“Sorry bud, but that can’t happen”, Jason grunted and landed a heavy kick to the goons stomach. The man yelped but it was quickly cut off by Jason as he slammed his boot into his face. He dropped onto the floor instantly.

Jason panted heavily and looked around the room, his helmet advising him of one more goon loitering around the door of the office. Looking down at the floor he noticed the floor grates wrapped around the room and more importantly under the henchmen’s feet. Perfect.

He lifted one of the grate coverings quietly and slipped under the flooring. He crouched down and edged around the room. The last goon was much larger and bulkier, with a machine gun strapped around his wide chest.

This goon seemed smarter than the others. Looking around and even checking up in the rafters. He grunted and pressed a button on his jacket, “No boss, still no sign of them...nothing Sir”.

The voice that patched through sent a chill down Jason’s spine. It was a tone that would be forever cemented in his mind, a reminder of his own torment.

“If you get ANY inclination the bat or any of his costumed freaks are in the building, you tell me immediately”.

“Yes boss”.

The static of the radio crackled before cutting off completely. Jason cursed mentally. This had to be precise. Perfection. He had to disable the henchman’s radio unit. Padding over his jacket he searched for the disrupter shooter he had. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He’d fucked up in his rush and left it behind. Fuck. Bruce was right. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Then he heard it. A soft ping from above him. He knew that sound. Jason looked up from the grate and spotted Nightwing hidden in the shadows with his own disrupter. Pointed directly at the goon’s radio system.

“Thought you might need a hand”, Dick patched into Jason’s com line.

Jason growled under his breath, “Thanks”.

“Shall we take this moron out together?”.

“Yes”, Jason muttered before switching his com off and inched closer to the goon.

The second Nightwing flew down from the roof beams, Jason jumped out of the floor grate and kicked out the back of the goons knees. He cursed loudly before Nightwing’s foot landed in his face.

Jason swore he saw a tooth fly out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. He aimed several hard punches to the side of the henchman’s head whilst Nightwing disabled his gun and radio with a graceful poise.

“All this for the girl? She’s nothing but a shell”, the goon smirked across at Jason before choking at the next punch.

“Joker’s hollowed her out...she’s nothing”, he spat out.

His temper flared and his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Dick realised and before anything could happen, he landed an electrical ecrisma blow to the goons head, knocking him out cold. His body crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Jason-”.

“Don’t”, Jason cut him off, “I’m fine”.

He took several steps towards the office door and swallowed thickly. You. You’d be in there. You’d told Joker with the last ounce of confidence left that he’d come for you. He’d never leave you. You were right. Jason would never have stopped looking. Ever.

His hand rested on the door handle, trembling only slightly. What if he was too late. What if this was just another trick?

Drawing his hand back almost as though the door had burnt him. He frowned. He couldn’t think like this. No. He had to be strong. Just like you had been in all those videos. You’d been fierce. Your spirit still pouring through to him.

Jason glared angrily at the door and took a step back before kicking it open furiously with his combat boot. The door flew open wildly and as the dust settled. He saw Joker stood in the middle of the room, a sick, satisfied smirk sat proudly on his demented face.

~~~

“Jason my boy! It’s a pleasure to see you again”, his chuckle was deep and sinister, “I see you're still hiding your face though...is that because of what I did?”. The Joker’s eyes danced with delirious joy at the memories.

“I’d have thought you’d have embraced all your scars by now Jason...”, The Joker edged forward leaving you tied up behind him.

Jason rounded The Joker, clicking a button to the side of his mask, revealing his face, his eyes hidden with the domino mask, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, clown”.

Jason let his eyes run over you for a second. You were bruised and bloodied. Clothes torn and tattered from mistreatment. Your eyes. God. Your beautiful E/C eyes. Red raw from countless tears. Somehow you still managed to give him a smile from behind The Joker. His heart fluttered. God he’d missed your smile.

Tearing his eyes from you he looked back towards The Joker and held his pistols out at him, finger hovering over the trigger. Jason felt the burn mark on his cheek stinging all over again. Pain ever present.

“You don’t have the guts”, The Joker laughed again and walked forward pressing his forehead into the barrel of the gun.

“You wouldn’t dare pull that trigger. I’m your Ace card Jason. You can’t kill me. You want to but you can’t...something will always stop you”.

Jason felt his hand shaking slightly. Everything was throbbing in his mind.

“Even after everything I’ve done to your girl, you still can’t pull that trigger”, The Joker taunted further and grinned sadistically.

“If only you knew where I’d touched...what I’ve done...”, he pushed further into the cold metal of the gun and winked at Jason, “Go on, do it, I dare you...if you don’t- I’m just going to keep coming back and who knows what I’ll do to our little princess next-”.

BANG.

A gun shot blasted through the air. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel, dancing into the darkness around them.

“JASON!”.

Nightwing had thrown one of his ecrisma sticks to Jason’s gun, knocking it off target. The bullet shattered the brickwork behind them, dust erupting.

Crashing down through one of the broken windows on top of the office roof, Nightwing flew towards The Joker tackling him down onto the damp, concrete floor before he could launch himself at Jason.

Still startled, Jason watched Dick wrestling with The Joker on the floor, punches flying back and forth.

Dick turned to Jason, “Y/N-Jason!! Go get Y/N!! I’ll handle this!”.

The Joker was shrieking with laughter underneath Dick, blood pouring down his lip and from his nose.

“Ahhhh another boy blunder!! I must be lucky!! Two for the price of one!”.

Dick threw another punch and reached for the second ecrisma stick on his back, “I can’t wait to cart you back to the Asylum. I hope you’re looking forward to your 5 star stay in a windowless cesspit!”.

Jason could hear Joker continually laughing at Dick, until the sharp sound of electrical buzzing cut him off with a loud scream.

He almost fell over his own feet as he raced towards you. Jason quickly untied your hands and the second they were free you flung them around his neck, sobbing into his neck. Your tears dropping onto his brown leather jacket.

“Oh baby”, Jason stroked your hair and held you tightly to him. He was worried he was crushing you but you seemed to be squeezing him back just as hard.

You didn’t stop sobbing. The overwhelming emotion of being wrapped in his safe, strong arms make your knees buckle. Jason caught you with ease and lifted you up, “It’s ok baby, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”.

Jason was one step away from breaking down himself but he needed to be strong for you right now.

You pressed your skin against his, the scratch of his stubble a welcome sting against your cheek. His scent overwhelmed you. Leather. Gunpowder. Smoke. And something distinct you’d never been able to place.

“Jason”.

“Shhh, it’s ok - nothing is going to hurt you, I’m here now - I’m a bit late but I’m here”.

~~~

It had been one week since you’d been back home. Two weeks if you counted the first week you and Jason spent holed up in the manor. Bruce had insisted. You sat in the bathtub, knees pressed up against your bare chest. Silence. All you could hear was the faint crackle of the bubbles every now and again. The clinical white tiles of the bathroom made you feel a little cleaner.

However, no matter how many baths you took, showers you stood in, you still couldn’t wipe the feel of the slick purple gloves off your skin. Your skin. Skin that was now marred with yellowish bruising. Almost faded physically but not mentally. Looking over the marks you felt yourself transported back into the desolate warehouse. The dank smell of stagnant water filling your nostrils. You choked and coughed loudly, suddenly feeling the oxygen clam up your throat. Drowning in the memories.

“Y/N??”.

Within a mere second Jason had flung open the bathroom door, red tinting his cheek and a little sweat on his forehead, “Sweetheart are you ok?”.

You noted how he chose to call you sweetheart now and not his usual princess. A stark reminder that this whole ordeal had affected him too, more than he’d admitted. You felt the guilt eat away at you. Shame burning at your feet.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok”, you mumbled quietly and swirled some of the water and bubbles around you, “I just accidentally swallowed some of the bath water, I’m sorry”.

Jason nodded although not quite believing you. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the tub taking a deep breath, “It’s ok to not be ok sweetheart...I know it can be difficult to admit that...I know that more than most”, he wiped a stray bubble from the rim of the tub. He looked at you deeply before continuing, “I’ll be here for you...whenever and whatever you need”.

You sat silently in the water and he moved to get up. Maybe he thought it was best to leave you alone, let you uncover your own emotions. Process what had happened. You gripped his wrist and looked up into the crystal blue of his eyes, “Jason”.

“Yeah babe?”, he turned his wrist in your hand and linked his fingers with yours.

“I love you”.

He smiled and squeezed your hand before whispering back, “I love you too, more than you know”.

He looked over you and moved to sit back on the edge of the bath. His spare hand reached out and cupped your chin lovingly, stroking over your skin.

“We’ll work through this together Y/N, I promise”, Jason murmured and leaned forward kissing your forehead lightly, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do...anything at all”.

The words, the touches, the kiss. It made your heart flutter and you fell even more in love with him. Jason made the impossible possible and you had no idea how he managed it every day. You felt so lucky.

“I - I struggle some d-days”, you admitted and with those words you felt a little lighter, “sometimes all I want is for you to hold me and not let me go...Sometimes I-I f-feel like that for hours...”.

“Well then I’ll hold you for hours”, he said simply.

You scoffed lightly but before you could protest or think of arguing back he was stepping into the bath water fully clothed.

“Jay!! You’re going to flood the bathroom”, you gasped loudly, watching the water splash over the sides like dramatic tidal waves. Water dispersed all over the bathroom floor to make way for his broad frame, “What are you doing?!”.

Jason sunk down into the water behind you and wrapped his arms either side, pulling you back into his clothed chest. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there, “Holding you for as long as you need me to”.

You felt yourself melt into his warm embrace. Tears made their way down your cheeks at his endearing show of love, “Jason”.

“Shhh, just let me hold you baby”, he cuddled you tighter into him, his fingers stroking your hips under the water, brushing away the bruises. Marking you with his own special touch.

Relaxing under his soft caresses, you hummed lightly and closed your eyes resting your head back against him. He smelt like leather and spice. You felt at home. He was home.

“Jay”.

“Mmm?”.

“Please call me princess”, you whispered quietly into the air, your eyes still closed.

“Whatever you want...princess”.

~~~

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella - thank you both for proof reading this and all the help you have given me - mwah mwah. xoxo

Tag List: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella @batarella-mini @lucy-roo @illzarr @pricetagofficial @jadedhillon @vvipgot7be @clementinesandstars @thedeadlythoughts @fantasticwizardnerd @power-of-words23 @vintagexparker @borntobewondering @l-inkage @fourteengemstones @ficrecsideblog @insane-without-delirium @so-now-what-huh @imjeralee @geekonaleash @dairydragon84 @dragonchildyuki @ediwdac @fxrchxldws @hyperfixationsandhecticness @chelinn @maniacproffesor @8ether @the-abyss-of-fandoms @babymango-writes @indigowcrds @catxsnow @lostoctaviaaugusta @empower-bi-women @jd-loves-everyone @xatanna-troy @phoenixhalliwell @a-sketchy-jedi @ramdomtails @ximaginx @little-miss-naill @spideypoolfeelz @queenbelena @rosalietodd013 @multifandomgirl-us @multitudinous-writes @mariechen1397 @brennenscolby @batgalsblog @bamboozledjt @crappy-unicorn @batmom69 @adazzlingsakura @weirdgirlfromtx @anousiemay @iamsofuckinglostsblog @pinklipsnotips @celestialgalaxies @galvysta @novelisticmess @onfir3 @this-hufflepuff @secretlovexo @naeratargaryen @eyelessjackswife @maplumebleue-blog-blog @futuristicallysweetstarfish @dianduh11 @beccis18 @kaylossol @alex-ehhh @hambuurgerz @mando-e @laguana-doofinsmirtz - Drop me a message if you want to be added to my tag list. xoxo

~~~

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

Kaleb Cross/Revenant As A Father Of Twin Boys Who Look Just Like Him

(AFAB!Reader)

Leonemi_04 Requested On AO3:

If I could leave a kudo every chapter , every sentence I will.

I love Revenant so much and how you write him and put so much detail and emotion unto him is amazing.

Please keep writing more!!!!

Some ideas I can give and wish to see is:

-The reader is pregnant

-The reader had twins with him. Both male that looks like him 🥺💗

Or maybe create a whole story and not just one shots. You are amazing!! 💗💗

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

Howdy,

Thank you kindly for your praise. I did write both ideas together. As it is Revenant, I did have some creative leeway with some angst. However, if that ain’t your cup of tea, I have marked the border between Kaleb’s happy life and Revenant’s existence.

Love,

Rodeo

Kaleb is worried at first. Most likely it isn’t planned for you to be pregnant. With the tumultuous nature of his life, he thought he could keep the possibility of having children as a dream.

When you reveal your pregnancy, Kaleb is concerned but elated. He wants the two of you to be more financially capable, taking on harder jobs to be able to provide even more.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t?”

“Then why haven’t you been here with us?” You pout, hand over your stomach. It hits Kaleb like a runaway train of guilt. He starts staying home more, trying to be there for you and the growing life within you.

He tries to do everything for you, scared you might get hurt just doing anything. It’s a bit endearing but also overbearing.

Tries to talk to your stomach, interpreting the kicks as responses. He talks to you at night, wondering about what the child will be like, what to name them, who they will resemble the most.

As time passes, you go to get your ultrasound. Technology has improved so much in your time, the ultrasound transferable.

Kaleb just finishes a mission when he gets a message from you. It’s not words, it’s a heartbeat. No, it’s two separate hearts beating-

You’re having twins.

He can’t wait to get home as soon as possible.

Revenant thinks about it as he stares into the mirror, cold yellow eyes glaring at the ghost before him. He doesn’t think of himself when he remembers you.

You and his children. Two boys, with soft blonde hair and curiously mischievous eyes.

His own widen in realization, meeting them for the first time. They both look just like him.

“Looks like my genes win this time.” He chuckles, cradling the eldest of your twins, the younger in your embrace.

“This time?” You raise an eyebrow, still tired from your labor. The younger twin nustles against your chest and you kiss him on his forehead.

Kaleb smiles lovingly at you, the mother of his children. The love of his life. He never thought he wanted to have children, knowing how things were with his hand in assassination.

Maybe things will work out, he’ll make sure of it.

Domestic life is a bit more chaotic, both of you making time for your boys.

You make sure both of them are dressed to match their father, red and black onesies to differentiate brothers.

They have their hair cut similar to their father’s, the oldest with his hair parted to the other side compared to the younger.

Kaleb must admit, he’s confused them too many times. It’s tiring for the two of you as parents, the twin terrors everywhere at once. Just when he’s got one baby changed, there’s another one?!

Both of their first words are “Mama.” You grin at Kaleb’s exasperation, knowing both of you had been asking of your sons to say “Mama” or “Dada” respectively. They do learn how to call for him, pudgy baby arms reaching for him.

When they hear him open the door, the twins are quick to drop their toys.

He opens his arms.

“There are my boys!”

He throws them up into the air, strong arms catching the gurgling baby, while the other one waits impatiently against your hip. The twins hate taking turns, stubborn to get the same thing first.

Honestly, Kaleb would want his kids to take after him, although he never wants them to get hurt or be in danger. He guesses he’d have to wait and see if his kids will pick up the pistol like him.

It’s something he’d never expect, wanting to do anything for anyone else’s benefit. Wanting to nurture and settle down. The typical apple pie life he thought he walked away from.

He promises to protect all of you with everything he’s got, refusing to let anything hurt his family.

Assuming Kaleb died pretty young, he didn’t get to see his boys grow up.

When he becomes Revenant, all those years twisting a man into a machine, forcing him into a frame not of his own, he has lost track of what he used to love. What he used to live for.

It catches up to him eventually. All of these questions he grew apathetic of asking himself.

Have you had to raise them alone, knowing he was gone? How many memories did his boys have without him? Did you mourn for the rest of your short human life? Did you pass, surrounded by his sons, praying with your last breaths that there was an afterlife with him?

Revenant knows there is nothing. He knows there is nothing and it haunts him. His family has slipped away between his metal fingers and he forms a shaking fist. He has been there and back, hopes of seeing you and his children again crushed over and over.

Even pictures of you all have faded into pixels, binary code with “error,” “invalid” all over blank screens. Physical copies of your smiling face and the twins have long burned into ash. All he has left are these bare memories, weighed heavily with the bitter taste of time.

This cold rush through him is not anger, but grief.

He feels sick, looking at this metal exterior, the swing of his arm breaking the mirror, webs of cracks appearing. He sends his fist into the wall like he’s trying to break his way out of himself.

He slams his head into the cold glass, shattering it. There are nothing but shards, pieces reflecting back to an empty, angry husk.

When Revenant leaves the room like the Grim Reaper, people part to make way for him. They assume it’s another one of his fits of instability.

They will never know what he has lost.

#damn rodeo's still got her devil horns #y'all welcome :)#revenant x reader #apex legends headcanons #apex legends revenant #apex legends imagines #apex legends x reader #apex legends #apex revenant #apex spoilers #ao3 request #AFAB reader

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 17

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter, grasping for straws to remain 'The Prank Master,' thinks he's found a way to annoy you into conceding. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, what he's found is something much worse.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Content Warning for descriptions/mentions of PTSD and flashbacks. Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 34 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,761

Red covered your mouth and nose, all over your hand, and a bit on your sheets. You blearily tried to gather your senses, tried to open your eyes against the unforgiving light that blinded you.

Peter stood over you, laughing. Telling you that you got what was coming to you as you groaned.

That fecker had put ketchup in your hand while you slept and then tickled your nose with one of the fuzzy-tipped novelty pens on your desk. The dickhead.

"Ugh! Gross! Dude!?" you complain, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissues off your desk so you could clean yourself up.

"Serves you right for what you did to me!" Peter countered, gesturing to the blue staining his body. He began to walk out of your room, making sure to let you know that you shouldn't expect the two of you were even.

You roll your eyes and continue wiping the ketchup-y mess off of you. You glance down at your sheets and realized you'd need to wash them today too. Great. Guess this is what you got for sleeping-in.

Once you had finally cleaned yourself up you gathered your sheets to take them downstairs to wash them, but not before making a pit-stop to Peter's room. Wanting to make the trip quick you grabbed the first thing you could find- his comb- and pocketed it. It was about to have a date with some jelly.

As you turned to leave his room you saw Rocket standing in the hall just outside the door.

With a knowing grin he asked, "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Nothing," you answer flatly, gathering your sheets back up.

He let you pass but said, "So I guess I didn't just see you steal Quill's comb, then?" There was amusement in his voice.

"He'll get it back," you answer, not pausing in your walk towards the stairs.

"What do you plan on doing to it?" he asked, intrigued. He had no intents to squeal on you. This prank-y-ness was a side of you he had been pleasantly surprised to see. Much better the the stiff agent-type you usually liked to display. Had he maybe misjudged you?

"The less you know the better," you answered, continuing down the stairs.

No witnesses. Rocket liked your style. Maybe you didn't have such a stick up your butt after all.

***

You threw your sheets in the washer and put the kettle on. It was time to make some jelly.

While waiting for the kettle you grabbed the packet of jelly from the pantry and something quick for breakfast. Deciding on a granola bar, you go to pull one from the box when you also notice that all your spices had been flipped upside down. Obviously Peter's doing. That's also when you remember that you had hidden the rest of the food dye behind the spices, prompting you to give a quick peek to see that the box was still there.

It wasn't.

Peter must have found it while setting up his prank and took them, intent on making the two of you "even."

Crap.

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts of doom to start fixing the jelly. You could think about the dye later. Right now you had mischief to make.

You mix up the jelly in a glass bowl, adding in an extra packet of gelatin to make sure the shape would hold later. Then, looking around to make sure no one was around, you take Peter's comb out of your pocket and drop it in. The bowl was just big enough for the comb to catch on the sides roughly about halfway deep in the jelly water, so that when you turned it out it would be nicely suspended in the green jelly. You then quickly take the bowl to the fridge to set, burying it in the back on the bottom shelf so it hopefully wouldn't be seen.

Then you simply went about your day as normal.

***

Other than several bad puns, Peter surprisingly didn't attempt much to annoy you that day, and you had no doubts that it was because he was confident that he'd be able to return the favor in dyeing you an odd color when you showered tonight.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Too bad for him he had no way to know that you knew, and you were confident that you could deal with it when that time came if you paid enough attention. For now you were just going to act none-the-wiser, and accept his invitation to watch a show with the others.

You settled in on the couch and the episode starts. It's a title you haven't heard of before.

Watching it you gathered it was a type of mystery/detective/thriller type that was somehow also a comedy. A detective was accused of killing this old lady, and he was on the run to try and prove his innocence. Lots of action, a bunch of red-herrings, overall not a bad show so far if you had to judge by this episode.

Then there was the end-scene.

The detective finally found the actual murderer, the mayor, and after tricking him into broadcasting his confession over the radio in this abandoned radio station- where he somehow had managed to make a broadcast work- the two fight. Only the mayor has a gun, and the detective's fell into a storm drain two scenes ago.

Through his cunning the detective manages to escape alive, but not unharmed. He's got a compound fracture to his leg. Cops are on the scene and arresting the mayor after surrounding him at gunpoint, and ambulances can be heard in the background.

You feel the hair on your arms stand up.

The sound of the sirens just keeps getting louder.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

They get louder. You look away from the screen into your lap.

All you can hear now is sirens. You don't realize they've already stopped on the screen. There's now instead dialogue, a conversation between characters, but you are unaware of it.

Your hands clench into fists, nails digging into your palms. You fight the images in your head. You don't want to see them. You hear sounds of tearing metal. Sirens. Screaming. Beeping. Your breathing gets shallow and you work to keep it quiet. You had to fight it back. Sirens. Bright lights. Glass shattering. Screaming. Sirens. You keep saying to yourself inside your mind that it's ok. You're ok. But what about-

Kraglin makes a comment to Yondu about something said on screen. You don't hear him. You only hear the sirens. God, why won't they stop? Screeching. Sirens. Blinding lights. Sirens.

Yondu turns to reply to Kraglin, but sees you looking strange. He raises an eyebrow, which Kraglin notices. He follows Yondu's gaze and sees you staring into your lap, body rigid, hands balled tightly into fists. Your eyes are wide, but unseeing. Your jaw is set.

Before either of them can say a word the buzzer on the washer goes off and you seem to jolt out of it, quickly hopping up and making your way out of the room.

Yondu and Kraglin share a look. What was that about?

***

You didn't return for another episode. Instead, you decided it was a nice enough day to hang your washing on the line. It hardly took you any time at all to finish, but you decide to stay outside for a bit anyways. Fresh air and all that.

Everything was fine. You were ok.

When you finally come back in it's well after a suitable lunchtime, and realizing that the only thing you had today was a granola bar, you decide to cut up an apple and sit at the table, scrolling on your phone as you eat.

Yondu comes into the kitchen for a drink and joins you at the table. "Where'd you go runnin' off to?" he asks, "Decide you didn't like the show?" What he really wanted to ask was what had prompted that look in your eyes earlier, but he knew better than to just come out an ask. You'd just deny anything had happened.

"Had laundry to dry," you answer, not looking up from your phone.

"Ya were gone an awful long time for laundry." Yondu said, not missing that you completely ignored his question about the show. But the question still bugged him. He recognized the look in your eyes back then. He remembered sometimes catching it in the eyes of some of the older battle slaves in the barracks when he was younger. It was the look one had when they were flashing back to something horrific they had been through. He and the other younger battle slaves were always told by other elders to leave those be when they were "stuck in it", as they would say. Don't disturb them. They'll come out of it. Nothing for it but to let it pass.

That never did sit right with him.

"It's a nice day. Thought I'd enjoy it," you answered.

Yondu hummed shortly. You weren't giving him anything, and he knew you wouldn't.

He decided not to press it for now, but he could tell something had triggered that response from you, he just didn't know what. He suspected it had something to do with whatever it was that you kept locked away inside. He had clues and suspicions as to what, but of course he couldn't be sure, though he was more determined now than he had previously been to figure you out. Only one thing was certain. You had pain inside you. A lot of it. No one should have to go through that alone.

***

Kraglin, unlike Yondu, wasn't nearly as subtle when he saw you next. However, he wouldn't get any further.

"Mind if I help?" he asked, joining you in the garden where you were pulling a few weeds.

"Go for it," you reply, barely looking up. There weren't many to pull, as it was starting to get cooler lately. You mostly just came out for something to do. Soon it'd be time to harvest the whole garden.

The two of you work in silence for a bit. Then, Kraglin asks, "So, um, was you alright earlier? I mean, saw that ya looked mighty shaken when we was watching that show."

"Don't know what you're talking about," you answer, standing up and tossing the weeds you picked over to the compost bucket.

Kraglin looked up to meet your gaze, frowning. He was about to say something along the lines that you were full of shit, but he stopped himself when he saw your stern expression. You weren't just denying it. With just those few words, combined with the subtly hard look on your face, you were outright telling him that he didn't see whatever it was that he thought he saw.

He exhaled out his nose and just gave you a look that said that he didn't believe you, but he wouldn't push it. He could see that you would just shut him out, and he felt like it wasn't his place to press it.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the awkward silence and causing you both to jump.

You sigh, not appreciating the jolt, and said, "Damn hunters."

Kraglin nodded and tried to take this distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. If you wouldn't open up, maybe he could try and make you smile instead. "So... nice job on dyeing Pete blue last night. Real funny."

"I certainly thought so," you said.

He almost thought he saw you crack a smile. Wanting to bring about a full grin he decided to tell a story. "Yeah, it was just like this time Pete rigged a dye pack up in one of Yondu's drawers, I think he mentioned it last night. Anyway, so somehow Pete rigs it up, I think he got mad at Cap'n for making him scrub the grease traps or somethin', but anyway then Yondu goes to open his drawer one mornin,' yeah? And he's blasted in the face with this red dye. Ohhh boy! He was madder than a muzzled Flerken!!"

The mental image was enough to make your lips curl up involuntarily.

Kraglin noted this and continued, "What's worse is he had to meet with some lady client the next day about a job, and he couldn't get it off. He was this funny shade of purple for over a week!"

A short laugh suddenly breaks through your throat and you look at him. "Really?" you ask, mirth in your eyes. The mental image of the blue man looking quite cross and splattered purple while trying to commit space pirate business dealings was a humorous one.

"Yeah. He grounded Pete for so long after that." Kraglin replied, chuckling.

"I'll bet," you say as you stand up and brush yourself off, now finished with weeding and prepared to go inside. "Thanks. For helping in the garden, I mean." you say.

Kraglin also stands. "Not a problem, ma'am."

You wince and shake you head as you turn back to the house. You thought of telling him to knock it off with the 'ma'am' stuff, but you were concerned with what might replace it. So you left it alone for now.

***

You were on alert when you got ready for your shower that evening. You knew Peter had plenty of opportunity to have tampered with your bath products, but you played it cool. Acted unaware.

The plan? Beat him at his own game.

First you turned on the shower and let it run. You cupped your hands beneath the stream to make sure the water wasn't an odd color.

All clear.

You get into the shower, deciding to inspect your shampoo and conditioner bottles first. You felt it was unlikely he'd put it in those, as it would be unlikely to have a decent enough payoff for him, but you still checked just in case. Your shampoo bottle was see-through and the liquid inside clear, so it was obvious it had gone untampered. You went ahead and used it.

Time for conditioner. Unscrewing the top you look inside the conditioner. Completely white. Untampered. Good.

Finally you checked your body wash. It was a rose scented type and was already colored pink. If he was was going to strike anywhere, it would likely be there with the red dye. You squirted a little into a rag to test it on your hip, an inconspicuous area. You didn't even need to use it before you realized you were right. The body wash came out much darker than usual. It was like he hadn't even mixed it. Actually, that's likely exactly what he did. He probably wanted to make sure as much dye got on you as possible and so just squirted it right on top. Just out of curiosity, however, you still tested it.

Yep. It left a red steak right on your hip. You catch a glance at Peter's bottle on the shower shelf, and grin.

Silly Peter. He shouldn't have forgotten his bottle in the shower. Again.

You reach out of the shower for a new washcloth, and use some of his body wash instead. Of course, not before testing it on the first rag to make sure it wasn't left behind on purpose as a trap. It wasn't. The test proved it free of dye and safe to use.

For now.

Once you finished washing you then unscrewed the top off of Peter's bottle and carefully poured in as much of the dye from the top of your tampered bottle as you could without getting it on your hands. You had to sacrifice a little of the soap down the drain just to make sure it would come out clean the next time you used it.

Was he sure to notice? Probably, but you didn't care. You'd be just as happy with the message it would deliver if nothing else.

He was going to see that you were the Prank Master here.

***

Once finished with your shower you retreated to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Peter in his room asking Gamora if she had seen his comb, and you grinned. You sure knew where his comb was.

Mantis is gathering her own stuff together to take a shower when you enter the room. You glance at what she's carrying to make sure she has enough soap. God forbid she might run out and then use Peter's instead of yours. You actually would feel bad if the prank accidentally hit her instead of Peter. Satisfied that she does you shut your door behind her and wait, unable to keep a grin from splitting your face.

Perhaps half an hour later, a good bit after Mantis had returned from her shower, you can hear Peter shouting.

"Are you KIDDING me!?"

Mantis looks towards the sound in shock before turning to see you covering your giggles with your hand.

Now you can hear Peter cursing your name.

"What did you do?" Mantis asks, both intrigued and alarmed.

"He tried to get me back for turning him blue by putting red dye in my soap. I found out and turned it back on him," you answered, nearly stuttering over your giggles.

"How?"

"I just poured the tainted soap into his bottle. Now he'll have been dyed twice." You grinned, but it fell shortly when you heard the bathroom door slam open and heard his footsteps coming in the direction of your room. You jumped up and quickly flicked the lock just before he reached the door.

The knob jiggled and then he started to pound on the door, cursing your name and demanding you come out.

Feeling cheeky, you answered, "Nobody's home!"

From the other side Peter said loudly, "Come out here, you coward!"

"Do you need something?" you ask, your grin wide.

"You. Out here. Now."

"Whatever for?" You're have a real hard time biting back your laughter. Mantis is sitting on her bed, hugging her bear and openly giggling.

"You know exactly what for!"

You look to Mantis. "Should I?" you chuckle.

"YES! You should!" answered Peter from the other side of the door.

"Didn't ask you!" you retort. You look back to Mantis and she nods excitedly. She wanted to see what had happened to Peter.

"Alright," you answer, loud enough for Peter to hear as well. You unlock the door and slowly open it.

You tried to hold it in. Honestly, you did. But the sight of Peter standing there in his pajama bottoms, and now purple where he had previously been blue, and a pinkish-red just about everywhere else you could see, you lost it.

Your laughter, combined with seeing that you didn't have a spec of dye on you, made Peter cry out in frustration. "HOW?!"

"It-It's your fault," you laughed. "You left a trail!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I did not leave a trail!"

"You did! I-I saw you had taken the rest of the dye and I knew what you'd do with it. Dude, you- you really should have left the box behind. I might not have noticed then." It was all you could do to say the sentence coherently as you tried to hold back your giggles. "How did you not notice I turned it around and poured it back in your bottle? Don't you look??"

As Peter sputtered indignantly for a reply you noticed that you again had an audience. Yondu and Kraglin stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the scene and shaking their heads. Rocket and Drax were standing by their room, Drax chuckling with a giggling Groot on his shoulder and Rocket almost looking impressed. Almost. Gamora was standing across the landing, shaking her head, though it appeared more out of second-hand embarrassment for Peter rather than disdain for you.

"Don't I- You- I'm- UGH!" Peter sputtered in frustration. He had half a mind to tickle you until you peed your pants for this- Well, not literally, though he wouldn't be above threatening it. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't 100% a dick. Regardless, the other half of his brain was too busy trying to think of any suitable comeback... and failing. He was The Prank Master! How were you beating him at his game? He glared at you. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. "You think you're so funny, don't you?! Just wait. You better watch your back. I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"You're not going to do anything, Peter." It was Gamora who spoke now, her tone teetering somewhere between warning and exhaustion, with a hint of amusement buried somewhere in there. "She beat you at your own game. Go to bed."

You couldn't stop the grin that split your face if your life depended on it. You took a calculated step back, hand resting on your door. You put on your most innocent voice. "So..." you started. "Does this mean I'm The Prank Master, now?"

The look in Peter's eyes could have vaporized you. "That's it!" he cried, stepping towards you. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got hold of you. Hold you in a headlock until you apologized? Wet Willie? Both? Neither? Didn't matter. All he knew was you were going to pay for this.

However, he'd never get the chance. You were too fast, slamming the door in his face and flicking the lock just before he could get near.

You and Mantis doubled over laughing and Peter sputtered some more empty threats before Gamora could be heard scolding him and telling him to go to bed.

It was even better the second time.

***

The next morning you were, dare you say, cheerful.

Peter, less so. He was still a bit cranky that not only had he been the victim of the dye prank twice, just one night after the first, but that it had happened because he tried to get you back and you turned the tables on him. Sure, he had cooled down a bit from last night, but he was still an uneven purple/pinkish-red mess and the others kept snickering at him. Even Gamora had been caught hiding a grin behind her hand a couple of times.

It wasn't fair. He was determined to get you back, but how would-

He spotted something on the kitchen table, interrupting his thoughts. Something shiny, and green, and was that...?

Oh you were going to get it.

***

You were minding your own business, walking over to one of the bookcases in the sitting room, when suddenly you were accosted.

Peter had pulled you into a headlock from behind.

"Hey! What the hell! Let me go!" you demanded.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll think about it!"

You had a feeling what this was about, but you played dumb. "I'm not going to apologize for turning the tables back around on you! It was your own fault for trying."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

You started softly laughing despite the moderate chokehold. You couldn't help it. "Did you- Did you ever find your comb?"

Suddenly you feel something wet in your ear. You knew there was only one thing it could be. "Ew! No! Peter!" you squeal, trying to squirm away. "That's disgusting! Stop it!"

Peter was chuckling now, still giving you a wet willie. "Say you're sorry!"

You jerk against him. "Never!" You were laughing despite really only having one hand to fight him with. The limited range on your brace made it so you couldn't bend your elbow enough to grab his arm with that hand, and you were standing too close to the bookcase to throw him over you and get out of the headlock. Well, too close to do it without hurting him, or your books, that is. You were stuck, but you still weren't going to give in.

Turns out you wouldn't need to.

"Alright. Break it up," came Yondu's voice from somewhere off to the side. "What's going on here?"

Peter released you and you rubbed your ear against your shoulder to get the wet feeling out of it. "She put my stuff in Jello!" he complained.

Yondu gave you a weird, albeit amused look. "Don't ya think ya did enough to him already, missy?" He wasn't scolding you, but he actually was surprised you were still on the attack after having seemingly won the war last night.

Fighting a grin you reply, "In my defense, I'd already done that before the dye thing. I only found out he was planning that afterwards," Technically not the full truth- you actually found out during the setup of the jelly prank, not after, but it was close enough, "and what was I supposed to do, not turn the tables back on him when I found out?"

Peter punches you in the shoulder, but there was no anger behind it, just cheekiness. You stick your tongue out at like a child in retaliation.

Yondu grinned and shook his head. It'd been awhile since he'd seen his boy carefree and goofing off like this, even if he was bickering with you like the two of you were kids. Still, he should maybe try to persuade a stop to the prank war again before things escalated any more and you two killed each other. It'd be a shame to save him from Ego just to let him die in a prank war of all things, and bad form to let him kill their host. "Boy, I think ya might need to accept that she won this round." he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I will do no such thing! She just got lucky." Peter replied.

You smirked. "Yeah. Sure. 'Lucky'," you taunt. "Just say it and I'll call us even."

"EVEN?!" Peter exclaimed. He gestured to the stained purple and pinkish red of the areas of skin you could see. "Look at me!"

Trying not to smile you slowly look down to the brace on your arm. Head cocked to the side your eyes look back to Peter. "You were saying?"

Peter bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. You could tell he wanted to retort with something, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. Eventually he settled for, "I'm still not saying it."

Yondu snorted a laugh. "Whatever it is, just be a man and say it, boy. Quit while yer ahead."

Peter looked at him indignantly. "I am not going to declare her The Prank Master."

Unable to suppress your grin any longer you nudge him in the shoulder and say in your sweetest voice, "It's ok, you don't have to say it," taking a few steps away you add, "We already know." You then jogged out of the way when he made a grab for you.

You made your way out the front door, but he didn't follow, instead just stood there pouting.

"Ya finally gonna give it up, boy? Take yer loss like a man?" Yondu chuckled, teasingly.

"Never." Peter responded, too busy plotting revenge to fully catch the "take it like a man" part as he walked out of the room.

Yondu chuckled and rolled his eyes as he went to take a seat on the sofa. It was nice to see that you had a goofy side, though he wondered if it was Peter rubbing off on you, or if you had just had it buried under layers of stubbornness and sass.

Either way, it seemed certain that the boy was gonna have to relinquish his self-proclaimed title of "The Prank Master."

***

Over the next couple days the pranks between you and Peter had slowed down. This was likely in part because of how you made Peter realize that he couldn't complain too much about getting even for the dye prank if he considered that you were still in a brace as a result from one of his previous pranks gone wrong, but also in part because the two of you had pulled so many pranks so far you were seemingly running out of ideas.

Peter moved the furniture in your sitting room 3 inches to the left, likely to get your back for putting his comb in jelly.

You retaliated by setting up some cling film up at head height in the kitchen doorway for him to walk into and then calling him into the kitchen.

He got back at you by swapping your salt and sugar out, thereby ruining what would have been a perfectly good cup of tea.

For this high crime, you decided to get him back by scrapping out a couple Oreos and filling them with toothpaste. He was most definitely not fond of that one. Called it a crime against nature, and he may have been right, but so was what he had done to your tea.

Other than that, nothing really escalated, well apart from the oreos and tea, that is. The two of you kept making little jabs at each other and annoying one another. Really bad puns, petty insults, that sort of thing.

You did assume, however, that Peter was just biding his time, trying to think of something big that he could spring on you that might make you give up the game and declare him The Prank Master, because gods knew he wasn't going to concede.

And you'd be right.

Peter spent a decent amount of time brainstorming ideas for a really good prank, or even just a decent way to annoy you, in between all the smaller ones, but he was coming up with nothing he deemed quite good enough.

He was about to consider throwing in the towel when you inadvertently provided him with the fodder he needed.

***

It was the fourth day since the first dye prank and most of the dye on Peter had worn off by now.

You were reading on the couch, little Groot was playing with the TV and flipping through random videos on the YouTube app with Drax, and Peter and Kraglin were in the middle of a card game at the table on the other side of the room.

In what you would chalk up to a cruel twist of fate, Groot managed to find his way into a video of ambulance calls.

Rudely and immediately torn from your book by the sound, your hand shoots out for the TV remote and you mute the TV, much to the dismay of little Groot, who had found the noise fun and had been cheering the siren on. As calmly as you can despite your rapid heartbeat, you ask Drax, who was confused by your behavior, to please tell Groot to find something else to watch.

Drax looks at you strangely, but translates for Groot anyway, which again, only sounded to you like he was repeating your words verbatim due to his translator. You still didn't know that the translators didn't actually translate into Groot, but rather Groot had just picked up and could understand a bit of Galactic Standard, even if he couldn't speak it.

Groots looks slightly disappointed for a second but agrees and switches videos and you unmute the TV.

You didn't bother checking what new video he had chosen. That had been a mistake.

After the ad finished playing you were jerked back into reality from your book by the sounds of now multiple ambulance calls going at once. You mute the TV once again and say, "I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. Anything else. Anything else except for videos of that sound."

Drax, rightfully confused, asks, "Why?"

"I do not like it." is all you offer, and you don't elaborate when asked.

Peter, of course, overhears all this, and thinks he's found his new way to annoy you. He of course had no way of knowing the reason you couldn't bare the sound wasn't due to annoyance. He had no way of knowing its effect on you.

***

He tested the waters the next day after lunch.

You were washing up the dishes with Gamora when the sound of an ambulance siren makes you freeze in the middle of drying a bowl.

Gamora turns her head towards the noise and wonders aloud what it was.

Without answering you take towards the direction of the sitting room to, gently, scold Groot for playing those videos again.

Of course, when you get there, you only see Peter, who pretended to be surprised to see you.

"Turn that off," you say sharply.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

You didn't ask him again. You just grabbed the control and exited the video before throwing the control back down into his lap. "Don't play that again," you warn.

"Why? Does it annoy you?" Peter asked with a smirk. He didn't notice your hands shaking.

Your eyes hardened. "Just don't," you say, returning to the kitchen.

Peter grinned. He was going to have fun with this.

***

Peter would play that sound three more times that afternoon, each time eliciting a more irritated response from you until you finally ripped the plug to the TV out of the wall and turn to him to angrily yell, "Stop it!"

"What?" Peter asked, chuckling in surprise at your latest response. You must really hate that noise.

"You know exactly what. I'm seriously, genuinely asking you to knock it off," you reply.

Gamora, who could tell Peter was working your last nerve and who was also becoming irritated by the repeated playing of the sirens, nudged Peter and told him he had his fun.

Peter half smirked and seemed to relent, saying simply, "Okay."

You sigh. "Thank yo-"

"After you declare me The Prank Master."

Gamora rolled her eyes and propped her head up on the hand resting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get involved, but inches from yelling at her boyfriend that she was ending the prank war herself.

You were seething. "You're a goddamn child!" you scold, leaving the sitting room and considering getting out some of the vodka you had in the freezer just to calm your nerves.

You had only just made it into the kitchen when the sound started up again.

You back against the wall and cover your face, inches from tears. Your breaths came in shallow gasps as flashes of bright lights and the sounds of tearing metal and screaming fill your senses. You tangle your hands in your hair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" you scream.

Peter and the others in the sitting room, as well as those upstairs, all paused in shock at the sheer volume behind your scream.

They then heard the sound of the back door slamming forcefully.

Yondu, who had been at the table playing cards with Kraglin, had only been present for the second and last incidence of Peter annoying you with the sound, and it wasn't until now that he put the pieces together. That day when you acted strange and walked out on the show- this siren sound had been playing then too.

Shit.

He got up and scolded Peter, who in his shock still hadn't turned the video back off. "Turn that shit off now, boy! If I hear it again I'm gonna shove my arrow up your ass! You hear me?"

Peter, recognizing the tone in Yondu's voice as one that he had encountered many times as a child when he was in trouble, immediately switched the video off. He had to concede that perhaps he went a little too far this time, but of course he didn't actually understand just how true that sentiment was.

Yondu went to go see where you went, and he didn't need to look very far, which surprised him. He was for sure you would have taken off for the forest again, since it was kinda your thing.

Instead, you were sat with your back pressed against the stone of the house about a couple meters from the door, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes in that terrible 'wide yet unseeing' way. In the dim light provided by what shone out the kitchen windows from inside he thought he could almost see the remnants of fallen tears.

He tried to approach you slowly, but you caught him out the corner of your eye and jerked to a standing position.

"Hey, hey-" Yondu said, holding his hands up. "It's alright-" he started, but then found he didn't know what else to say. After a moment he settled on, "Ya wanna talk about what that was about?"

You don't meet his gaze. "Nothing. He just pisses me off. He's a damn child."

"While that may be true, yer still full of shit."

You glare at him.

He continues. "If this was just about Quill gettin' under yer skin ya wouldn't be shakin' like that, and I doubt you'd be crying neither."

"Am not," you mutter. You turn away, wipe your eyes, cross your arms self-consciously, and start walking away. "It's cold."

Yondu rolled his eyes. It was cool out, yes, but it wasn't that cold. "Ya wanna talk about why ya dislike the particular noise so much?" Yondu called after you. "Ya ain't got to, but I can tell somethin's eating ya. I might help to get it off your chest."

"It's nothing." you reply. "Just an annoying sound."

Yondu frowned. "Now listen here. I ain't gonna force ya to tell me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone just flat out lie to my face, missy."

You turn to him, indignant. "I'm not-"

"Hell if ya ain't. I've seen that look before, I know what it is. Ya can lie to yerself, but ya can't lie to me!"

You glare at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here acting like you know anything about me!"

"I'm the person telling ya that it ain't healthy to keep that shit bottled up inside ya. It'll eat ya alive."

You don't respond. Just roll your eyes and start walking away again.

Yondu threw up his hands. "To hell with you then!" He starts to walk back inside but stops at the door to speak again, this time his tone a little softer, "I have a feelin' no one's ever told ya, girl, but ya don't have to 'be strong' all the time. Sometimes it's ok to let people in. It don't make ya weak." With that he headed back in the house.

You lean your back against the cool stone and sigh in frustration. What did he know.

***

You head back inside a bit later, not feeling much better.

Peter catches you as you're about to head up the stairs. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"Don't." You cut him off, not stoping in your path. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."

Peter frowns, but lets you go. Maybe he could try again in the morning. He truly was sorry. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

***

You stared up at the ceiling from your bed for what felt like hours. You couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about it. You knew Peter had no way of knowing why you couldn't stand that sound, but you still couldn't help but be unhappy with him. He just wouldn't stop.

You can feel your jaw clenching with each flash of horrific memory.

You were annoyed at Yondu too. Acting like he knew anything about you or some shit. What did he know? Not you, that's what. You didn't need someone acting like they cared. You didn't need anyone, really. People come, people go. No one stays forever.

You feel your chest clench. Your throat tightens and you sit up. You didn't want to cry.

A walk. That's what you needed. A walk in the forest would surely help wash the memories away. You could walk until you were too tired to think about it, then sleep it off. It would be better in the morning. You'd be ok.

You quietly slip on some jeans and make your way downstairs to put on your boots and grab a jacket. Choosing your thin leather one because it had been chilly when you were out earlier, you open the back door and head out into the cool night air.

You'd find out soon enough that you should have stayed in bed.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #marvel fanfic #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #starlord #kraglin obfonteri

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mayans-sauce · 4 years

Text

Broken Glass

Gif Credit: @sonsofeorl

Pairing: Riz Ariza x Female Reader

Word Count: 830

Warnings: cursing, injury and a little bit of blood

Request by anon Yeay so excited your requests are open! I'm in need of some fluff. Can i ask for Riz being totally hopeless and not noticing how exhausted his wife is as she's been looking after the toddler, the house and doing extra shifts at work to cover people being off for covid. He doesn't realise till he comes home and she's sitting on the kitchen floor crying as she dropped a glass and it was the last straw... Ty

A/N: sorry for coming to this so late! I changed it up a bit so I hope that’s alright. Sorry if there are any writing mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3

GROUP CHAT for updates!

▪️Main Masterlist▪️Riz Masterlist▪️

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Riz had been in no help the past week with taking care of your one-year-old daughter Samantha. He spent his days hanging out with his brother, drinking beers, playing cards, and god knows what else. His eyes were blind with not realizing how much work you did around the house with cleaning and watching out for your daughter also the fact that working so much had left you so tired and exhausted.

He did help some, but it was the bare minimum and not at all enough for what he actually could be helping you with.

You were currently balancing your crying daughter on your hip while you tried your best to make some lunch for yourself and her. Riz was upstairs, getting ready to have another card session at the clubhouse. Today you just felt irritated and sad, so you just didn’t have any energy to pick up a fight with him and complain about how much you were struggling, even if you wanted to so bad.

You heard him come down the stairs and into the kitchen. “I’m off to meet the boys,” he gave you a quick kiss on your temple, “I’ll see you later tonight.” He gave crying Samantha a kiss as well, which made her calm down a little bit, but she was still very fuzzy.

“Riz, can you please just hold her for a second while I cut this up,” it wasn’t a question but a demand, and he took her without asking, thank God. He rocked her to the best of his abilities, but she wanted her mommy, “hey, hey shhh, it’s ok little one… I think she wants back to her mama.” “Just… let me do this,” a little bit of an angry tone in your voice.

You need to turn around to grab something on the opposite counter, but since you were so tired and not that much in control of your limbs, you accidentally knocked a glass over while turning around.

The glass shattered all over the floor, with the apple juice containing it spilling all over. A broken glass wasn’t such a big of a deal, but for you, it was the last straw. You collapsed on the floor, your back against the kitchen counter, as tears started bawling out of your eyes. Not thinking about the glass on the floor, you accidentally put your hands in a bunch of little pieces.

You didn’t feel the slight pain of the glass piercing your skin lightly; you only felt the pain of feeling so small and hopeless.

Riz was quick to your aid, putting an even more crying Samantha in her chair so that he could help you. “Shit, are you alright?” He immediately got down to your level to assess the situation, looking at your hands if there was a lot of damage on them. Luckily the glass hadn’t gone that far in your skin, and there wasn’t much blood, so he didn’t think calling the paramedics would be necessary.

Luckily he had joined Taza on many occasions to patch up the guys, so he knew what he needed to do. Lifting you from the floor by your arms, he aided you to the kitchen table, sitting you down in the chair.

Samantha was crying hysterically now, and Riz didn’t know what to do. “Fuck,” he ran a hand frustrated through his beautiful hair. “Here, baby girl, you want to watch your cartoons?” He fetched out his phone and put on her favorite cartoon. It made her calm down eventually as she watched the picture move on the screen.

That allowed him to help you in peace. He went to grab the first aid kit and sat himself down with you. He used some tweezers to get out the few glass pieces. It didn’t look like they had done too much damage, so just a few wraps of bandage was necessary.

“Why did you put your hands down?” “Huh?” You had been zoned out for a moment, and his question made you snap out of it. “Why did you put your hands down on the floor when you knew there was glass there?” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m just… I don’t know… I’m just tired, Michael, from everything, and you aren’t there to help. All you do is go out with the boys, and I’m stuck at home taking care of our daughter after hours of work.”

“Your right… I have no excuse. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry… I promise I will do more work around the house and take more care of Samantha.” “That’s all I ask. I just want us to be a team.”

After what happened, Riz called the boy up, telling he would take a few days off and only come to the clubhouse if it was an emergency. He wanted to spend his time with his two favorite girls and not care about anything else.

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Thank you for reading❤️ Let me know what you think❤️

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Boo’s and Ghoul’s (MGG request)

Request: hi !! can i request a mgg imagine where it’s halloween night and him and the reader are watching horror movies while eating candy, and it’s all just fluff? thank you for ur time !! :D

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! We’re like a month away from Halloween and I love spooky season as much as the next person, so this request was fun to write! I was gonna do a double upload with this and Ace, but it never happened because I take 10 years to write a sentence smh (But it’s still Saturday in some places so this is kinda like a double upload am i right? 👁👅👁) Enjoy!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Pure Halloween fluff

Content warning: None, maybe spookiness if you’re not bout that life

Word count: 1.1k

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Spending Halloween night indoors was the equivalent to Valentine’s Day for Matthew. He was so ecstatic to spend the night cuddling you while watching classic horror movies and eating an endless amount of candy. When October rolled around it was as if a new light sparked in Matthew. Brighter than the light he already was.

You dumped a bag of a classic mix of various popular chocolates into a one of Matthew’s handmade jack-o-lantern bowl. One of the first things he told you when you met he liked doing Halloween arts and crafts the most during the spooky season. You expected to see one or two creations, but were welcomed with at least 30 different Halloween themed crafts when he finally showed you his collection.

“Y/N, do you wanna watch Friday the Thirteenth or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” You heard Matthew yell from the living room.

“Do you have The Evil Dead?” You asked

“Oh boy, you bet I do,” he said with the utmost excitement.

You giggled to yourself as you threw the empty candy bag in the trash. You went over to his huge pantry to take out a bag of popcorn. You then went to the cabinet to grab the handcrafted Frankenstein bowl he had made. As you turned around, you were greeted with an unpleasant surprise.

“Boo!” Matthew yelled.

You were so caught off guard you dropped the bowl on the ground and it shattered. You squeezed your eyes hoping it wasn’t broken, but when you opened them you saw it was shattered into large glass pieces. You looked back up at Matthew hoping he wasn’t mad you broke his art. To your surprise, he was stifling a hardy laugh.

“Y/N, if you’re this jumpy now, how do you expect to survive watching a series of horror movies?” He laughed.

“The jump scares will be in front of me and not behind me,” you responded.

He let out a booming laugh as he bent down to start picking up the pieces of the bowl. You bent down to help him as you still felt bad for what you did even if he didn’t mind. Before you picked up anything, he stopped your hand. You looked at him confused. He greeted your confused look with a smile.

“It was my fault. How about you get yourself comfortable on the couch as I clean this up?” He said.

“You sure?” You asked.

He nodded. “Of course. I want your nerves settled before we start The Evil Dead.”

You giggled as you got up from the ground. You walked over to the counter where the bowl of candy was resting. You made sure to pick it up carefully before part two of the bowl dropping incident occurred. You walked into the living room to get yourself comfortable on the couch.

You looked around the living room which was decorated to the brim with Halloween decorations. You couldn’t help but admire it every time you walked in or through the area. Bats hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins on the fireplace, a skeleton in the corner; it was the real deal.

You placed the bowl beside you as you went to the VCR player. Matthew borrowed his mom’s so you two could watch the VHS originals of the horror movies he collected. He said doing this made for a satisfying viewing experience. He hasn’t been wrong about anything Halloween yet. You saw the VHS for The Evil Dead on the floor and decided to get the movie started at least after all your mess.

You popped in the VHS and scooted back. You didn’t see the main menu appear on the screen. You sighed and laughed to yourself. You didn’t even turn on the T.V. You grabbed the remote and turned it on just to see a horrific face of a zombie-like girl appear on the screen. Out of natural instinct, you screamed out of shock.

You heard Matthew run into the living room. You quickly turned around to see him standing with a ghost bowl full of popcorn. He looked at you in shock and confusion. He then looked at the screen and saw what made you scream in such horror. He let out an uncontrollable laugh as he saw the girl on the T.V.

“I meant to rewind it from the last time I watched it. I’m so sorry you had to be greeted like that,” he said.

He walked over to you and placed the bowl on the coffee table. He took your hands to help you off the ground as he still laughed at your embarrassingly easily scared personality. He gave you a quick peck on the lips before leading you back over to the couch to sit.

“Thanks for helping set up this indoor spookfest, Y/N. For all your brave work I promise to protect you from any ghoul’s,” he said while rewinding the VHS.

“How kind of you, good sir. I don’t want to be dropping bowls on monsters toes now would I,” you said.

He laughed and pressed play when he finished rewinding the movie. He went over to the lights to turn them off. He walked back over to the coffee table and pulled out the lighter from his pocket to light the three candles. The scent of apple spiced cinnamon hit your nose and it felt as if you were in a dream. The Halloween fantasy was fully complete.

He took his place beside you and patted his lap while giving you his signature warm stare. You obliged and placed yourself on his lap with your back against his chest. You reached your hand in the candy bowl to take out a Kit-Kat. You opened it and placed one tiny bar in Matthew’s mouth. He smiled at you as he accepted your gift offering.

“Do you think if I offered a monster some candy, they would leave me alone,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Most monsters, but not vampires.”

“Vampires? Why wouldn’t a vampire leave me alone?” You asked.

You felt him kiss up your shoulder and then lightly sink his canines into the crook of your neck. You let out a slight gasp before giggling along with him. You looked down at him as he took his teeth’s grip off of you.

“Vampires like you too much to just leave you alone,” he said.

“In my books, vampires are just up my alley,” you said.

You kissed him and could taste the air of chocolate in his mouth which made the kiss extra sweet. Both of you then decided it was time to crackdown on paying attention to the movie instead of each other. After all, it was going to be a long, spooky night ahead for you both as you enjoyed each other’s company and endless Halloween treats.

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MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler request #matthew gray gubler fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler x reader #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #gubler-me-up

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thekillingjoke-haha · 4 years

Text

Prime Time,Bitch!

Tagged: @spnquotebingo the keep reading function is messing up for me

Sam said he was locked up tight in the dungeon. He was never locked in with her. She was locked in with him. The hunter becomes the hunted with no where to run.

Warning: Mature Language,Blood,Gore,Character Death?

-"Thoughts"- (they are red for those who can see)"Quotes" 'Reading'

"I'll be right back. This demon side is fighting to stay in control. I just need a few more pints of blood." Sam said as he slung a bag on his shoulder. "Yeah I got it get some food to!" Y/n said with a smile as she walked him to the impala. The roar of the engine rumbled as she waved him off going back inside what she didn't know was Dean knew that Sam just left and a chilling smile grew on his face.

Y/n popped popcorn as she sat in her room a horror movies playing as she got comfortable. A scream came from the movie drowning out the sound of the dungeon door opening up. The youngest Winchester laughed as a girl tripped over nothing her and Dean always make fun of them they had no real reason to hit the ground so they should get right up. This made her slightly sad. Was Sam going to fix Dean or was it already to late for him? Shaking off the thought the killer was about to crush the women's skull when the power cut out,but the red emergency lights didn't cut on yet which was weird. "God damnit." She grumbled getting up and grabbed a flashlight and went to the breaker to fix it walking right past the open door. Flipping the switch the normal lights don't turn on only the red ones and she turned around to get her phone to call Sam when she dropped her flashlight. Y/n gazed at the empty chair in the center of a devils trap she took off running to her room,but paused he knew she would run there for her phone and Dean or the demon he's become won't let her get help. She changed course to Sam's panic room to hide.

"Oh N/n where are you? I miss my little sister don't you miss me?" A metal sound of something dragging on the floor made her tense. Thinking of all possible things it could be of how she's going to die.–'It could be a bat,but we don't have any metal ones in the bunker. Maybe a sledgehammer,but that would have ment he when into the garage and the power going out would have locked everything.''– Her eyes widen as she released what it was he must have been carrying around she was sharpening it with the rest of the blades earlier that day."Have you figured it out yet? I know how you think when a horror movie is playing you see ever scenario before the movie can catch up. No wonder Sammy says you cheat at Clue!" Dean laughed as he seemed to wander to each room. The sound of wood splitting as he yelled "Here's Johnny!!!" It seemed so much worse that Dean was the evil this time a normal demon would know her so personally this seemed almost cruel him quoting films they watched together. "What to clichés? I admit the axe is old school."

The panic room the size of a cubbie it was so small,but just big enough I could calm down and think properly. Looking up another version of myself sat in front of me...my conscience. I could speak,but she could she's in my head after all. –"You can't run. There's nowhere to go doors locked down the moment the lights went."– I saw a illusion of myself running through the halls just to hit a corner and get a axe to the chest before it faded away. –"Can't go for your phone or your laptop he probably broke it the moment he noticed you weren't in your room."– I saw myself creep into my room just to see a shattered phone and my laptop with a cracked screen buffering to open instant messenger to text Sam. The laptop was slammed shut on my fingers causing some to break and get sliced by the glass looking up the sick grin of the Demon caught my eye before the axe ended that path. –"The burner. The one in your dresser Dean doesn't know about it so neither would the demon.Get it and get back here as quickly as possible. "– It was settled call for help. Listening for any foot steps I creep out of the hiding space a faint whistle going off down one of the many halls way from my room. Sneaking down the hallway staying low I get to my room where the door is torn to shreds as I open my drawer and fish out the phone. Going back down the hallway I get back to Sam's room and immediately call him.

"This call has been forwarded to a automatic voice message at the tone ples–" Hanging up I call again and again with no answer. At this point help was no longer a option. The whistling seemed to get closer and I rushed to the panic room until I paused. –"A enclosed space in a closet. There's not much space to move around if he finds you there your done for."– I back away slightly. –"Behind the door offers a easy place to hide and get out,but if he does the same to Sammy's door he did to yours it's not much of a hiding spot then."– A axe goes through the door creating a massive hole and Dean peaks inside and sees the white of you tank top in your (f/n) flannel. The door was whole again as I looked around the sound of metal getting louder running out of time. –"Under the bed allows you to see him without him seeing you,but like the panic cubbie not a lot of wiggle room if he hears you your done."– It was too late running to the metal door of the panic room she slams it shut not to loud to sound like she's trying to hide it,but just loud enough for the demon to register it. Sealing it shut I slip under the bed and wait for the time to get out and hopefully find a weapon.

Boots walked into the room turning to the closed closet. "Oh N/n!~ There's only so many places to hide in such a small room. Did you really think I wouldn't hear that heavy ass door close?" He chuckled darkly as he opened the closet and went to the small door. Dean tried turning the wheel to unsealed it,but it seemed to dawn on him that it could only be opened from the inside. With a huff anger he began pulling the brick of the wall started to bend outwards and crack. I was glad I wasn't in there. Going to slip out from under the bed while he's distracted the burner phone rang its annoying ringtone. Not even bothering to stop it I rush to get out faster,but a firm grip caught my ankle and dragged me out. Turning onto my back Dean stood their his apple green eyes staring at me. "Found you." He lifted up the axe having let go of my ankle lifting up my feet I put as much strength as possible into kicking his stomach. The demon was knocked back into the closest hitting the ground. Unfortunately axe still in hand. Stanfing up I ran leaving the phone behind. -"Sam took Baby so the trunk armory is out of the question. The garage has so pretty handy tools too bad that it was sealed along with the front and only entrance. Kitchen has knifes none that can hurt him,but just enough to slow him down. Library demon blade was in there last you checked,but Sam could have grabbed and put it on a high shelf."– Too many options and the kitchen was closer so that was the first stop grabbing a knife I held it tightly as a stalked slowly to the Library to see if there were any supernatural weapons.

The library was dark and the red lighting barely lit up the large room. "Would you like to play a game?" Dean mocked in a deep voice as he went around the bunker his voice echoing no real pinpointing where he is. I can't call Sam and prying to Cas hasn't worked meaning Dean made angel banishing symbols in most of the rooms. Y/n was getting desprit the bunkers massive size most of it was unexplored by them so being lost in a underground maze b wasn't the best option. "Are you scared yet Y/n? Well be afraid. Be very afraid. I'm what goes bump in the night sweetheart! Never thought the Winchester’s downfall will be by the hands of the oldest. What a twist!!! Right?" Dean yelled turning to the table I saw the supplies I cleaned with,but the weapons were gone and a note was left on in their place. 'Hey Y/n I put the weapons back into the trunk for tomorrow's hunt so you wouldn't have to...you're welcome and your blade was just sitting on the table so I put it up. ~Love Sam' I wanted to cry oh chuck nothing can save me in this buncker Bobby was sending us gallons of holy water next week because we were low...all rooms were demon proof,but he seemed to be a exception now,so no calling Crowley either.

Turning around the library doors open and I duck behind one of the many shelves. "Welcome to my nightmare!~" He said with a chuckle that bounced from every wall. Dean knocked down books and destroyed anything in his way while he looked around. Crawling on the ground I go to leave when the sound of something whooshing in the arm made me drop like a bag of rocks. The axe meet the shelf and I gazed at the red illuminated face of my brother eyes now black and demented. Laughter bubbled out of his chest as he mumbled. "Carful dear wouldn't want to lose you head." Yanking the axe free many books tumbled down. Taking the kitchen knife in hand I slash his calf and go for his thigh when the knife is flung out of my hands. "You little bitch!!!" He hissed now holding the knife and showing it into my stomach. A silent cry came from my lips bot to give him the satisfaction of my screams just yet. I look up at him and just past his head where I couldn't normally reach was the handle of my blade peeking over the shelf.

I begin to giggle and it turns into fits of laughter. Black eyes flicker back to confused green ones. "What's so funny?" I catch my breath as I lean up slightly. "You picked the wrong place to corner me. Wanna play?" Grabbing his knee and pulling it buckled under him causing Dean to hit the shelf letting the blade fall freely. Reaching out I catch it "Let’s play." Stabbing upward into his stomach the same place the knife was lodged in my own stomach. He howled in pain as I removed the blade and ran keeping pressure on the knife wound as I turned corners just to get away. -'He played with your head play with his. The intercomes...a good distraction can lead him away and let you get the jump.'- I hurry to the intercoms not before making a pit stop.

Demon!Dean POV

I growl at the wound on my body the little shit stabbed me. This makes killing her so much easier then she can be just like me. Grabbing the axe I stomp through the bunker. "What a excellent day for an exorcism." Her voice sounded through the speakers now I know were she is. "Would you like that?" I said aloud with a grin. "Intensely." Y/n said trying to make her voice horse before the clipping sound of the intercom stopping rang out before being replaced with a creepy melody that always scared her. "There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." My ear drums almost burst at the loud deep voiced scream ears still ringing I didn't register the blade being driving into my sholder flinging her back I turn around as she's running down the narrow hallway taking the axe with both hands throw it straight and the axe hit her almost dead center in the spine. The audio cut off after the song and I stood over her. Y/n had her face turned coughing up blood I definitely hit her lung. "Thanks for catching it for me." I smile as I heavily put my foot on the small of her back pulling the axe out. She screamed out it was mildly gurgle from the blood. Turning her over my little sisters eyes shined with unshed tears. "Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." I said with a small whipping the few that slipped by she whimpered Sam's name and I grew frustrated. Lifting the axe again. "Looks like you couldn't make the cut,N/n. Just another extra that stuck around for too long." Dropping the axe down it went into her chest the creaking of her collar bone and sternum were whispers compared to the blood curdling cry. They soon died out as her skin paled and her breathing stopped she'llmake a strong demon. "See you soon." Taking the axe out I begin to drag her body.

The lights in the bunker cut back on meaning Sammy was home. Having placed her perfectly in the chair I was tied to I wait until he finds her standing next to the door. "Y/n?! Y/n!?" He yelled most likely having gone to her room rushing the the dungeon his heavy foot steps abruptly stopped. "Oh God! Y/n come on!" The moose of a man rushed in the room cradling her face in his hand. "You were too late, Sammy. She called your name before she went,but I guess five missed calls wasn't enough for you to rush home. N/n fought for so long waiting it out just for you to never show." I said closing the door as he turned to me standing infront of her corpse. "You didn't make things easy on her. I mean you took all the weapons and put the only thing to defend herself on the top shelf...like keeping the cookie jar way from a child. In some way you killed her before I could." Lifting the demon blade that had his own blood on it. I stalked towards him cornering him in the room. "Sure you won't give me a good chase,but woah she wore me out." Holding the blade to his throat when a gun shot fired and a sting hit my arm causing me to drop the knife.

Y/n stood colt in her left hand the axe keeping her up in her left. "Demons always so sure that what's dead is dead and can't be undead. Ever heard of a pulse jackass. " so distracted that she was alive Sam was able to restrain and she held a handful of bags of blood. "Let's get this over with." She bagan to inject me and I felt myself become mire human and I started thrashing hard. With the last vile in hand she looked into my eyes. "You should be dead." I hissed as she pushed the needle in. "Sorry. I'm into survival."

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A/n This is the last one in round one of the Spnquotebingo and I ended with a dozen quotes.

Title: "Prime Time,Bitch!" Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

"Here's Johnny!" -The shinning

"Would you like to play a game?" - Saw

"...be afraid. Be very afraid"- The fly

"Welcome to my nightmare."- Nightmare on Elm Street

"..lose your head." Alice in Wonderland

"Wanna play?"- Child's Play

"What a excellent day for an exorcism...Would you like that?....Intensely." - The Exorcist

"There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." - The Conjuring 2

"Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." - Hellraiser

"See you soon." - Coraline

"She called your name before she went,but I guess..." -Hadestown

"...what's dead is dead and can not me undead." -Jacksepticeye (DBD playthrough)

"I'm into survival." ‐Nightmare on Elm Street

#spnquotebingo #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #demon!dean #horror movies #horror quotes #Dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #castiel #crowly #hunter being hunted

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

take me home - part 2

(not my gif)

jj maybank x reader

a/n: part twoooo let’s goooo. as you can tell this is not the end, there is quite a bit to come, but i wanted to finish this part before i head out. i’ll not be posting any new work for a week because of some things i have going on in my life outside of tumblr. this part was a little more to all the boys i’ve loved before influenced, can you spot where?

“It’s fine, Maybank. It’s fine, just. Just take me home.”

The drive to your house is filled with a tense silence. Neither of you knows how to talk to the other anymore. Not without hurting yourselves again. You’re grateful he doesn’t try and make small talk with you. His silence gives you time to think.

Time to think about the hurt in Rafe’s eyes when you told him you were scared of him. The momentary flash of despair and devastation. And more importantly, time to think about what you would tell everyone.

There was no hope that Rafe would keep you and JJ’s “relationship” to himself, you wouldn’t be surprised if half the island knew by now. As street lamps pass over the car, running shadows over your legs, you tell yourself that he was probably too drunk. He probably crashed somewhere and doesn’t even remember.

You repeat this in your head like a mantra, you hope that if you keep telling yourself this, maybe you can believe it. You can forget about the hurt in his eyes that would never have been there if he was really drunk.

You’ve lost yourself in that shot of hope when JJ finally stops outside your house. “Thanks for the ride,” you mumble. You turn to open the door, walk back into your kook life, and hopefully make JJ Maybank nothing but a memory for another two years and-

Click.

Darting over, he locks the door. “Not so fast, Y/l/n. I think we need to talk about what happened back there.” “Nothing happened back there.” You tug at the door again.

“C’mon. What the hell was that?” He rests his hands on the steering wheel.

You look over at him, ready to yell at him too, to force this door open. But the genuine concern in his eyes breaks something in you. You sigh, leaning your head back against the seat.

“I’m so sick of guys like Rafe. You know, scratch that. I’m just sick of Rafe! Every single day it’s the same thing, the touching and the pet names and it’s terrifying! I mean, I used to look at that boy and see Rafe, my friend, my first love. And now I see Rafe Cameron.”

“There’s a difference?” “A huge one. One of them used to call me beautiful and the other one tells his friends he’d hit that whenever he wanted. It’s fucking terrifying, being around him.” You cradle your face in your hands, shaking your head. “I walked in on him doing drugs at a party a few months ago. I don’t mean like weed, I mean he was snorting coke off of a coffee table. And then he threatened me to get me out and quiet.”

Your phone starts buzzing then. You flip it over and the screen is lit up with a picture of you and Sarah at last year’s Midsummers. You hit decline and drop your phone back in your lap.

“Jesus. I mean, I knew Rafe was screwed up, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you think it’s done, that he’ll let you go now that you’ve confessed to Rafe Cameron being your first love. “Can I go now?”

“What’re you going to tell your friends?” JJ ignores your request. “The truth. I made you up as a fake boyfriend to get Rafe to leave me alone. They’ll buy it, we’ve all done it at some point. The real question is, what are you going to tell your friends?”

“What?” “I think you might be in trouble with a certain girl for posing as my boyfriend.” “Kiara?” He winces. You nod.

“Jesus,” JJ groans, thumping his head against his hands on the steering wheel. “Does everyone know?” “Everybody knows. You’re pretty obvious, staring at her like that.” “Well, why would she be mad? Didn’t you come tonight so you guys could make up?” “Just because she’s ready to talk doesn’t mean she won’t be mad that I spent the night posing as the girlfriend of her future man-to-be.”

JJ is silent again, and you tug on the door handle once more, trying to signal for him to open the door. “Dude, seriously, I need to get-”What if we didn’t tell them?”

“What?” You’re taken back by his outburst.

“What if we didn’t tell them,” he swallows, “that we were faking?” “Why wouldn’t we?” “Think about it, Y/n! I want to make Kiara jealous. As her former friend, you can do that better than anybody. It’s perfect, it would drive her crazy.” “And why would I want to do that?”

“C’mon, Rafe just left when he thought you were with me. Seriously, he’d at least stop bothering you so much! Isn’t that what you want?” “Well, yeah, but is this really the best way?”

“Yes!” He grinned. “It would make him just as mad that you’re dating a pogue! If not him, then it would at least make your parents go crazy.”

You can hear how insane this sounds, but at this point you’d do anything to get out of this car, and you’d do anything to get Rafe out of your life. A voice in the back of your mind, far, far behind from all common sense is whispering that JJ is right. That this could work. You wonder if this is how he lives, making every decision based off of the voice of impulse in the back of his head.

You’re sure that by tomorrow, that voice will make JJ forget all about you and your kook problems, and that is the only reason you tell him, “Okay, Maybank. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

JJ pumps his fist in celebration. “Yes! You won’t regret this. Maybank guarantee.”

You smile in defeat. The last Maybank guarantee you booked was Valentine’s Day of freshman year. JJ had promised you that one day, he would make you his girlfriend.

Maybe Maybank guarantees really do work out.

JJ finally unlocks the car, and you climb out in a hurry. “Oh, wait, Y/n, digits.” He’s pulling out your phone before you can close the door. You take it from him and hesitate to officially sign this off. You consider giving him a fake number, but eventually decide you’d like to see if he actually means this. “Fine, JJ. If you drunk dial me, I will block you immediately.” You hand back the phone.

“No promises.” He takes it back from you and salutes you goodbye. “Later, princess.”

You shut the door, and he drives off at an alarming speed.

You tiptoe up to your bedroom, desperate not to wake your family. As you close your bedroom door, your phone buzzes again.

“Hello?” You pick up this time. “JJ Maybank? Goldilocks? Are you joking?” Sarah’s voice shrieks from your speaker. You pull the phone away from your ear.

“So I’m guessing Rafe told you?” “Yeah, he was ready to cry, Y/n. What happened?” “He was trying to take me home, but JJ was with me so he got all involved. I don’t know, Rafe just found out.” “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

You freeze. You have not had enough time to plan out this conversation. “I mean, you were having problems with your whole kook/pogue love triangle, I didn’t want to worry you with me and JJ. Plus, I didn’t really know how to explain I was dating John B’s best friend.”

Sarah huffs on the other side, but she accepts the answer. “Do your parents know?” “No, but they’ll probably know by morning, if Rafe keeps blabbing.” “How long has this been going on?” “It’s really new. Sarah, I’m pretty tired. Can I call you tomorrow?” “Oh, uh, yeah. Tell me about it tomorrow.” “Ok, bye.” You rush your words and end the call.

You collapse onto your bed, exhausted. You groan as your phone screen lights up again, but lift it to check.

hey kook it’s jj

So he did follow through. And really quickly, too. You fire off a text back.

we need to sort this out. pick me up tmrw at 9

The next morning, as predicted, your mom was excitedly waiting for you downstairs. “Good morning, sweetheart.” “Morning, mom.” You poured a glass of juice.

“So, Rose called this morning.” She stood across from you. You hummed.

“She was asking about your new boyfriend.” Your mom couldn’t hide the excitement in her tone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating?” “It just happened last night, mom. I was going to tell you today.” You set down your glass.

“Who is he? Tell me everything!” Your mother had been trying to get you in a relationship for years. She had even tried to set you up with her friend’s kids. You hoped the news of your boyfriend’s identity wouldn’t shatter her excitement too much.

“It’s, um, JJ. JJ Maybank.”

Your mom’s smile faltered. “That sounds familiar. Does he go to school with you?” “Yeah, he does. He’s not from around here, though. He lives on the Cut.”

Her mouth formed a small ‘o’. You could tell this wasn’t what she had been hoping for, but it seemed she was going to take it.

You knew your mom tried. She tried to be a good mom, to be accepting of her kids. And she really did care for your happiness. Although she could be clueless sometimes, she loved you. And that put her well above many of the parents on Figure 8.

“Well, when can we meet this JJ boy?” “Hopefully soon?” You bluff.

“Invite him over for dinner sometime. I’m sure he’s lovely.” “He’s actually picking me up for breakfast, so I’ve gotta head out.”

You grabbed an apple and rushed out the door. Promptly on time for the first time in his life, the giant van sat on the curb.

“Where are we going?” “There’s this diner by the dock. We can sit there.” JJ proposes as he pulls out of your neighborhood.

The diner is nice, but neither of you order anything except for waters. The waitress is obviously annoyed with you, but you tip her enough to let you stay.

“Okay, rule number one, keep your lips shut. Fake dating you is more embarrassing than dating you.” “Ouch, Y/n. But, yeah, obviously.” He leans forward in his chair. You nod.

“What’s rule number two?” He asks. “What?” “You said rule number one, what’s rule number two?” “I only had one rule.” Then why did you start with rule number one?” JJ knows how to press your buttons.

“It’s a figure of speech, asshole.” You mutter, slinking back in your chairs.

“Okay, we need to have a story for how we met so we can tell people the same thing.” You sip from the tall water glass.

“Sure, we met at a kegger in the Boneyard. I gave you a beer and you fell madly in love with me.” He smiles. “I fell madly in love with you? More like you fell in love with me.” “We mutually fell in love with each other.” JJ compromises.

“You’re bad at this.” You laugh. “Here, we were at a kegger in the boneyard, you gave me a beer, you started talking, and we still had feelings left over from freshman year. Sound believable enough?”

“Not better than mine, but okay.” He grumbles.

“I have another rule, you have to do dating things with me.” JJ taps the table.

“Dating things?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, dating things. You know. Dates. Public affection. All that.” “Makes sense, but nothing much, please. I don’t need to be making out with you in front of everyone I know.” “That sounds like a bucket list item to me.”

“Why do we need to do the dating things?” “Because, if it’s all behind closed doors, people will call bluff. The point is to make them jealous. Kiara won’t get jealous if she never sees me with you. Rafe won’t leave you alone unless I’m around.” “Okay, good point.” “Right. Dating things.”

“Speaking of dating things, my mom knows about you.” “That’s a pretty official deal, then.” “She wants you over for dinner.”

JJ high fives you. “We’re so good at this, we’re already at the meet the parents phase.”

JJ gets hungry eventually, and orders a plate of fries, which you periodically steal. He either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care.

What he does notice, is Kiara on the dock, staring at the two of you. He grins and tilts his head at her. You turn to look as she waves. You wave back and she watches you two for a little while longer.

“Progress, Y/n. Progress.”

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @tinylatina01 @obx-direction-sos @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @pixelated-pogues @dpaccione @thatshiscigar @fanficscuziranout @trustfundparker @teamnick @trashmouthpogues @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @tomzfrog @midnightmagicmusings @outerbankslove @jjandreidsgirl @apoguecalledjj @lilmoviehoe @bellaguarneri @harrys-creature @nivky0-0 @serrendipiity @teenwaywardasgardian @adoreyoudrews @keepingupwiththepogues @millssssonline @no-pogue-on-pogue-macking @realiteaas @downbytheouterbanks @sspidermanss @starxdame @juxt4p0siti0n @angvelics

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theincuhusbands · 4 years

Text

Snuggling in the dark - (Diana x Reader)

Summary – When Y/N gets sick and Diana’s working in the Abyssal Planes, one phone call is enough to send her right back home to look after her sick Y/N.

Warnings – Strong language, fluffy, kissing, sick reader, self-conscious reader

Word Count – 1398

There was a long pause as the tension in me grew. The soft glow of the phone screen lighting up my darked-out room, even on its lowest brightness setting it’s too bright. The ringing of the phone seemed to go on forever. I sat and stared at it, squinting, as it rang wondering wither I should just give up and hang up.

Ring.

“Hello?”

I jumped slightly not actually expecting her to pick up at this point. I dropped my phone off my bed and scrambled quickly to pick it up, sitting up unnaturally straight, the quickness of it all making my head pulse. “Em hi…” There’s a shuffling on her side of the phone. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bother you if you’re busy.” I bite my lip gently, mentally kicking myself for calling her.

My girlfriend Diana, had been working for the last couple of days down in the abyssal planes, usually she tries not to go, getting Sergeant or Saero to deal with the problem but this one seemed pretty important. Something to do with the human new year’s about to mess with something the abyssal planes. Diana doesn’t talk too much about demon politics and I don’t press her on it, usually. She is supposed to be coming back on Friday, two days from now but no matter how I try to rationalise with myself, it still seems like an eternity away.

“No no no- I- I’m not busy.” I hear the hushed angry voices of her threatening them out the room while I cringe slightly knowing she probably is busy. “Whats wrong N/N?”

I gulp now. “Well I-“

“Why aren’t you out? Today isn’t a human holiday is it?”

I try to get my answer out, failing miserably as I stumble all over my words. “I- I um… I took a s-sick day?”

There is a long pause over the phone as she seems to process what I said. It takes a couple seconds before she says quite flatly “you’re sick?”

I pull the sleeves of my jumper over my hands, bundling it up slightly. “Yeah, I mean it’s-“

I’m cut off by a blinding light appearing from the middle of my room, as I wince, I watch a glowing purple pentagram appear in the middle of the floor and Diana rise from it. She stands for a second facing away from me breathing in the air before she turns to me rushing to my side. “Are you alright?!”

I laugh slightly cupping her face with my hands and pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m fine, you don’t need to worry.” She freezes for a second before wrapping her arms around me and hugging me back. I smile widely leaning into her ear. “I missed you.” I pull back and try to make out her face. I meet her beautiful red eyes and I feel my palms get sweaty as I feel uneasy.

She looks around my pitch-black room before looking back at me. “Why is it so dark in here?” I flop back on my bed and onto my pillows. “I have a migraine… and an uneasy stomach, haven’t been able to keep food down…”

I feel the bed next to me shift as she lays down, wrapping her arm around my waist pulling me closer. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pierced into a thin line. She looks almost… guilty. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I grin wildly as I lean in and give her a short peck. “Just you being here is enough.” When I pull back, her face still looks worried. “This isn’t your fault you know” I gently lean my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat and feeling her chest slowly rising and falling. I feel her arms wrap around me even tighter. “I should have been here”

“You’re here now.”

I feel safe and at ease snuggled up, practically on top off Diana although she doesn’t seem to mind. Feeling her warmth and her soft arms resting on me. She smiles weakly at me, looking away embarrassed “I’m not sure what to do for a sick human…” I look up at her adjusting my head on her chest. “What do you do for a sick demon?”

She shrugs slightly, taking in a deep breath as she tucks a stand of hair behind my ear. “I mean we don’t… we don’t really get I’ll but if we do… I mean magic.” I nod as I snuggle deeper into her. Silence fills the room as we sit still for a moment before I clear my throat. “Depending on what the human is sick with… medicine or giving them hot soup helps.”

Diana nodded thoughtful before asking “Have you had medicine?” I think back to this morning, which since I was shattered, is a bit hazy. “Yeah, I had some aspirin…” She purrs in response to that as I feel her fingers lightly start to tap my waist. “And soup?” I shake my head letting out a breath I didn’t even know I had been keeping in. “No… I really couldn’t be arsed making any.”

She smiles as she gently pushes me off her standing up. “Then that’s what I’ll do!” I groan as I lean back on the much colder mattress. “NooOOooOooo…” She cups the side of my face with her hands making my face burn bright red as she plants a kiss on my forehead. “Baby, I want to help you… so I’m going to go make you that soup…” I look into her eyes which are filled with a mix of worriedness of sadness.

Guess she must feel pretty helpless when it comes to human health. I start to get the feeling it’s more for her own sanity than mine. “Ok fine…”

She smiles widely as I grab a pillow and hug it tightly, pouting. She walks to the door and out into the hall. “Can it be F/S?” I don’t have the energy to shout so it comes out as more as a loud talking.

It doesn’t take long after she’s gone for the gears to start turning in my head. If she’s gonna do something nice, then I can try too!

------

Diana’s back in a shockingly quick ten minutes which surprises me, but then again cooking succubus magic? I clear my throat, but it still comes out as a grimy “Come in.”

When Diana walks in she’s watching the bowls of soup trying not to spill them. She walks in slowly, then tries to shut the door behind her. The level of concentration trying not to spill the bowls was causing her to pull one of the cutest faces I’d ever seen. I smile to myself as she turns round finally looking up at me. So, surprised she almost drops the bowls. I had set up a couple of scented candles I’d bought since all the shops had been having their huge sales on trying to get rid of Christmas stock. I’d taken out the warm apple and cinnamon scented candles and let them on a turned over box which I’d thrown a blanket on to make a little table. I had thrown my hair into a messy bun and stuck it on the top of my head.

Diana was speechless before she coughed and looked down at her feet a bright red blush covering her cheeks. “Em I hope you don’t mind I made myself a bowl?” I nod laughing a bit as I wipe my nose. “I’m surprised you’d even want to eat around me.”

She looks up at me as she walks over sitting down across from me and setting the bowls of soup on the table. “You kidding? I love eating with you Y/N”

The bowl of soup smelled amazing. I couldn’t wait. I quickly grabbed a soon and dug in. The soup was astoundingly good! I couldn’t get enough of it. I looked up to see she was sitting eagerly, biting her lip. “Well? Is it good enough?”

I beam brightly. “It’s fantastic. Thank you”

She blushes as she starts to dig into hers and we enjoy our makeshift dinner-date. It may be on a box, on a Wednesday afternoon, in my blacked-out bedroom and I may be all snotty and disgusting while she looks perfect but its our little dinner.

#seducemetheotome #seduce me the otome #seduce me the demon war #seducemethedemonwar #diana #diana anderson #diana x reader #diana x mika #mika #mika anderson #Ezaeur #Ezaeur x reader #fluffy

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