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bella-rose29 · 4 months

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 3

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, Stephanie is a bitch, lockwood was a complete arse in the past, he's also very guarded in the present, they kiss for like three seconds (because Steph makes them), mentions of sex, mentions of lockwood's family being dead, neither of them can deal with emotions, proof read maybe once

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Anthony Lockwood was starting to think that this family Christmas would be a disaster.

He had no issue with playing the perfect boyfriend at all; in fact, he was doing rather brilliantly at it.

But something wasn't quite right with Y/n.

Now he didn't know how large families were meant to work, since his own relatives were either gone or lived too far away and his only experience with larger gatherings was the few times he'd been to George's, but he did know that the snide remarks about how much cake Y/n should be given and the fake laughter from her aunt wasn't particularly regular.

The cake and tea situation had certainly been strange.

Normally Y/n went through around four cups of tea before noon, and if cake was offered she would have such a large slice that Lockwood would often joke about leaving some for the rest of them. Instead of cracking one of those jokes that afternoon, he was currently staring at her half-drunk mug and a plate of cake that hadn't even been eaten, and Y/n was in the toilet instead of glaring at him.

He didn't exactly like her, but he hadn't been raised to not be a gentleman. He excused himself with a smile, pushing himself out of the loveseat and making his way out of the living room in a search for his fake girlfriend. It took him nearly five minutes to check all the bathrooms in the house, and naturally the last one that he knocked on was the one she was in. There hadn't been any answer, but he had heard sniffles from the other side of the door of their en-suite bathroom and had assumed that it was Y/n.

"Are you alright?" He was starting to get tired of asking that question, but she was clearly not alright, and if this whole charade went wrong then she'd just have more reason to hate him, so he was attempting to carry out damage control.

"I'm fine, just... go back downstairs, Lockwood."

"Anthony."

"Whatever." He could hear her huff in annoyance, and bit back a retort, instead settling for a frown. Lockwood sat down, his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees to keep his balance as he leant backwards.

"I'm not going back without you," he said to the door. "Your sister looks like she's going to eat me alive, and I don't think I'll be given the satisfaction of dying afterwards which scares me."

"...What?"

"I said that-"

"I heard what you said, I just... don't know what you mean."

"Your sister... is going... to eat me. And I don't mean 'she's going to eat me like Christmas dinner', I mean 'she's going to... eat... me." He was trying to get his point across through euphemisms, but apparently that wasn't working. It didn't help that Y/n couldn't see his face or hand gestures, but at least he heard the door lock click.

He had barely registered the sound before the door opened behind him and he fell backwards, only being stopped from landing on his back like an upside down beetle by Y/n's legs.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off the floor, you dipshit."

He stood up, brushing himself off and turning around to inspect her face. She'd obviously been crying, but was trying to hide it, and was now shoving past him into the bedroom.

"What do you mean, eat you?"

"You know..." he gestured vaguely, now feeling embarrassed. He sighed when Y/n only looked quizzically at him. "She keeps looking at me like she wants to fuck me and it's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh, poor you. What a shame for you."

"Oh shove off." She was irritating him again. At least that meant she was somewhat back to normal. "Are you going to come back downstairs? I think your mother has nearly finished cooking dinner."

"Right... uh- I don't know, really." She was folding her arms now, closing in on herself and looking away. Lockwood felt like he was missing something, the key piece of the puzzle that would give him all the answers, and it was frustrating him. It was so close, he was sure of it, but what 'it' was he couldn't say.

"Well you can't leave me down there on my own! You dragged me up here to be your boyfriend for the holidays!"

"You'll be fine. You're great in these situations!"

"Yeah but this is your family, Y/n, you should spend time with them. You never know when-" He couldn't finish, his throat closing up slightly.

"I don't exactly want to spend time around them when I have to pretend that I'm hopelessly in love with you!"

"Well you don't have to go that far with it!"

"Oh like you aren't? What was that earlier? 'Best Touch in England' and 'there's nothing that could have stopped me from falling for your daughter'!"

"I've got to butter them up somehow, haven't I?" She huffed again.

"Look. I have no issue with pretending to date you. I have no issue with pretending to date you in front of my family to make them think I'm not a lair, even though I am. What I do have an issue with is you trying to tell me how to live my life in my own home, and how to act. I know my family, Lockwood, and I know what I'm doing."

"Do you? Because so far I've seen you leave half a mug of tea and an entire slice of cake, which is entirely unlike you. And what the hell was that thing that happened with Stephanie saying you don't need a large slice? Is that why you don't want to come down for dinner?"

"No, it's not that, I just... Stephanie always makes comments about me because she doesn't like me, and I don't really feel like spending an entire meal being watched by her."

"Well then I'll tell them you're not feeling well because of the journey and could we eat up here!"

"You-!" she was still shouting, but broke off when she registered his words. He had only just realised what he'd said himself, and he was taken aback at his offer. "That... would actually be nice, actually. If you don't mind."

"No, I don't. It means I don't have to fake liking you for a while."

Y/n scoffed, but she looked somewhat less disgruntled than she had before.

~~~

Ten minutes later Lockwood was knocking on the door, demanding to be let in.

"Seriously, can you hurry up? My arms are going to fall off in a second!"

"You are such a drama queen," she replied as she opened the door. He would never survive as a waiter, which was surprising since given he had clearly practiced with a rapier for years and had a strong throw, Y/n had assumed that he had somewhat sturdy arms. With the way he was acting now anyone would think he'd never held a thing in his life.

"Yeah, sure, let me come in. I need to put this down, I think I'm going to die."

"Fucking idiot," she muttered, stepping back and allowing him room to walk inside. He put the tray down on the desk, dragging over a second chair to put beside the one that was already there and sitting down. Y/n stood nearby, unsure about sharing a meal with Lockwood as he got stuck in, but then he paused for a moment and looked back at her with a frown.

"Well? Are you going to sit down? Imagine what your family will say when they find out I let you starve."

"Of course all you're worried about is what other people will think of you," she grumbled, reluctantly pulling out the desk chair and sitting on it.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're so obsessed with your image, Lockwood. It's a wonder that nobody has suffocated on your ego yet."

"I am not obsessed!"

"Ok, sure. Remind me, how long did you spend on your hair this morning?" Y/n asked, her face the picture of innocence. Lockwood floundered for a moment, then stuck a forkful of food in his mouth.

"That's irrelevant."

"I think it's entirely relevant."

"Shut up and eat your veg, Schmoopie."

Y/n threw a piece of carrot at him, and laughed when it landed in his hair and made him shriek.

~~~

Y/n had snuck downstairs with their empty plates and glasses while Lockwood used the toilet.

She had thought she could simply put everything in the dishwasher and go right back upstairs, but just as she closed the door to the machine and turned around she was greeted by her cousin.

"So," Stephanie started, attempting (the key word being 'attempted') to look disinterested. Y/n internally groaned, knowing exactly where this was leading. "How long have you two been... a thing?"

"8 months. And it's not a 'thing', Steph. He's my boyfriend."

"Sure, sure." Her tone suggested that she didn't believe Y/n at all, and was agreeing with her in much the same way that one might agree with a child who had said something wrong, but looked proud of themselves for saying it. "How'd it happen, then? Who asked who? What was the first kiss like?"

"Steph, I'm really tired, alright? And I'm only going to have to repeat this story multiple times tomorrow to literally fifty people, so please just let me go to bed and I'll make sure you're the first one I tell in the morning, yeah?" Y/n started heading for the door, pushing past her cousin.

"Oh, so you have more time to come up with the perfect lie?" Stephanie's words made her freeze with one foot out of the kitchen, and when she turned back the other girl was stood with a smug smile on her face.

"What do you mean?" Shit, her voice was shaking, and she was certain that if Stephanie came any closer she would see the slight sweat that had broken out on her forehead.

"Oh please. Nobody like him would ever go for someone like you, Y/n. I mean, he is way out of your league!"

"Personally I think that Y/n is way out of my league, but each to their own, I suppose." She hadn't even heard Lockwood come in, but now he was wrapping his arm around her waist like it belonged there and smiling softly at her like they hadn't been arguing about five minutes before (the argument was about something pointless, but that didn't stop Y/n from gloating when he gave in and said that she was right). "You alright, darling?"

"Yeah, just tired. Could we-"

"Oh, since you're both here, maybe you could share the story of how it all happened?" Stephanie cut her off, and completely ignored Y/n's responding scowl.

"I think we'll save that for tomorrow, Steph. If it'll make you happy we'll tell everyone at the same time and give a big speech," Lockwood said, and Y/n's insides started churning at the thought. She would have to find a way to convince Lockwood to do all the talking, or even her deaf older relatives would know that this whole relationship was a farce.

"Well, how about a kiss then? I still find it hard to believe that my little baby cousin has a boyfriend!"

"There's two months between out birthdays, Steph. It's really not that much. And we're not just going to kiss for your entertainment!"

"Aw, darling, you wound me. You don't want an excuse to kiss me?" Y/n could tell that Lockwood was having far too much fun with this, pouting and clutching his chest, pretending to stagger backwards in pain, and finally offering up his mouth in a ridiculous attempt to gain a kiss. She knew that he didn't actually want to kiss her, and what he really wanted was to rile her up, but she couldn't help but feel nerves in her stomach at the idea of it.

"Not really. You get enough of them as it is, Anthony." It felt weird, his first name in her mouth, and he paused for a moment in his actions to stare at her, tilting his head and frowning slightly.

"Oh, just one little kiss? You are under mistletoe, after all," Stephanie piped up again, pointing gleefully at the plant that had been badly taped to the doorframe.

The doorframe that Lockwood was leaning against, and that Y/n was stood under.

Shit.

They had an audience now, since her parents and siblings had come out of the living room to see what the conversation was about in the kitchen. Even her grandparents had emerged from their downstairs bedroom to join in. Y/n swallowed thickly as she looked around at everyone, her eyes finally landing on Lockwood. His frown was still in place, but his face was more relaxed. He pushed off of the doorframe, stepping forward and placing his hands on Y/n's waist as he leaned in a little.

"Is this... I mean... do you-?"

"We probably should. We were gonna have to at some point, right?" He was close enough now that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and his eyes kept flicking between hers and her mouth.

"Right." Lockwood brought a hand up to her face, holding her jaw gently as though he thought she might break if he applied any more pressure. His nose was brushing hers, and she had to push herself up on her toes and wrap her arms around his neck to bring her lips to his.

The kiss was short, only a couple of seconds at most, but as soon as they pulled away from each other she missed it.

Why did she miss it?

Claps from Y/n's family followed shortly after, and she was glad for once that Lockwood had no sense of personal space because it meant that she could hide her face in his chest without it coming across as strange to him, since he hadn't let go of her waist.

She absolutely could not start craving a real relationship with Anthony Lockwood.

Not when they hated each other with a burning passion.

And especially not when she had previously heard him say that he would never like her because she was 'not good enough for the company'.

No, she couldn't crave a thing with him other than their usual dynamic.

~~~

Lockwood was warm.

They had turned out the light and gone to bed about forty minutes ago, and after around twenty he had heard Y/n's breathing even out as she drifted off. As per usual he was still awake, left to stare up at the ceiling while he tried everything he could think of to fall asleep.

Normally it was the fear of nightmares that kept him awake, and if anybody asked tomorrow he would tell them that, or possibly something about how he was so used to working at night that he now found it difficult to sleep.

Realistically, though, he was too warm.

He had contemplated the pros and cons of taking off his pyjamas (pro: he'd be cooler, con: Y/n might scream at him and attack him with a blunt object) for the last thirty minutes, and had heard an owl hoot for the sixth time. He was also relatively sure that there was a fox somewhere outside the house, but since he had spent his whole life living in the city he wasn't entirely sure what they sounded like. The ghosts normally attacked any animals that tried to make a home in London, and as such wildlife was limited.

Another five minutes later and Lockwood decided that if he was going to die by having a lamp thrown at his head, he would much rather be more comfortable than warm and stifled, and peeled off the blanket that Y/n had given him when he first got comfortable in the armchair to take his pyjamas off. He folded them neatly, creeping around so that he didn't wake up the witch sleeping in the bed, then got back in the armchair and pulled the blanket over him again.

Why was he still warm?

He huffed in frustration, making a mental list of all the reasons his body could be overheating, then froze.

Somewhere along the way he'd added 'kiss' to the list, and then all of a sudden his mind was filling with the events of earlier and images of mistletoe.

Shit.

It had been awkward after they kissed in the kitchen doorway, Y/n's whole family watching and clapping with joy afterwards, and he had been very glad that she had hidden her face in his chest, because that meant that she couldn't see his own flushed face.

He had told himself that he was blushing because that had been his first proper kiss, and then followed that up by listing all the annoying things about Y/n.

They had been forced back into the living room for another two hours after that, with introductions being made to Y/n's grandparents (the ones that owned the house) and siblings (since they hadn't had the chance to say a proper hello yet). He had felt a little scared when all four of Y/n's brothers crowded around him, including 11 year old Tom, and made a promise to have a chat the next day, and then he'd been downright fearing for his life when Olivia pushed through and draped herself over his arm.

Y/n had simply been snickering in a corner at the whole thing.

Lockwood had glared at her in response, hoping that she might come and save him, but instead she turned back to her grandparents with a smirk and left him to her sister.

When they had finally been allowed to leave for bed, Lockwood and Y/n had got stuck in the doorway in their rush to go upstairs.

"After you, darling."

"No, you go first, Anthony."

Her family had been not-so-secretly watching the whole affair, and after a moment of staring at each other Lockwood had stepped back and swept his arm out for her to go first. He told himself it was because he had been raised to be a gentleman and also so that her family would think of him as the perfect boyfriend, but realistically it was so that he could hide his second flushed face of the evening when his gaze darted down to her mouth.

They had got ready for bed in silence, the only words spoken between them "excuse me" and "thanks" as they moved around, and then Y/n had given him the throw blanket from the end of the bed and turned out the lights.

"You sure you're fine in the chair?"

"Perfectly fine, Schmoopie."

"Do you want to die, Lockwood? Because you're getting dangerously close to seeing my rapier sticking out of your torso."

He hadn't answered her question, instead opting to shuffle around in the chair until he was as comfortable as he could be and bidding her goodnight.

And now here he was, around fifty minutes later, attempting to go to sleep while he also attempted to not think of the feeling of Y/n's lips on his.

He really should give up the game of hating each other that the two of them had going on.

Since that first night where they had met by quite literally bumping into each other, Lockwood had maintained the belief that she was no good for his business.

His meaning for what that meant had changed over the years, though.

Originally he'd thought that she would be clumsy and ineffective in a fight since she'd walked right into him and nearly pushed him over, and then when she'd come for an interview and walked into the doorframe his mentality had stayed the same. He was in too much debt to waste money on an agent that was as accident prone as Y/n.

But then? Then he'd seen her in action.

It had been around four months after she first joined Lockwood and Co (as he had stubbornly refused to go on jobs with her). George was behind on research for other jobs, and Lucy had a case of her own to deal with. Lockwood would have taken this particular one on his own, but Holly had recounted the client's report of what could be felt and dictated that he needed backup or he wasn't going. She herself had claimed there was a mountain of paperwork with her name on, and so Lockwood had been left with Y/n as his only option.

The taxi ride had been silent, with Y/n ignoring him and instead looking out the window, and when Lockwood thanked the driver his mouth was dry from disuse.

He knew he'd been an arse the last few months when all she was doing was attempting to be nice, but now he felt he was too far in to stop. She likely wouldn't believe he was being sincere anyway.

Two hours later they were done, worn out from running around trying to find Sources, and Lockwood had taken a new stance on his feelings towards Y/n.

It would have taken them at least twice as long to locate the Sources if Y/n hadn't used her Touch, and from what he could gather she was actually seeing the scenes play out in front of her, complete with sound and all as though she was actually there. He had never seen anything like it before, and when he went to tell her in the taxi home he was met with a very different Y/n to the one that had been trying to be his friend.

"You were incredible back there, Y/n."

"Not sure why you care, Lockwood. You've spent the last four months avoiding me and putting me on different jobs so you don't have to be around me." Her tone was harsh and cold, so far from the warm voice she had had only a few hours before, and Lockwood couldn't help but bite back.

"Of course I don't want to be around you, I was only saying that to make you think you're actually worth keeping around." It was awful, and he would never normally say something like that, but she was an enigma and he was tired and scared that if anyone found out about her Talent then she would take the spotlight away from him, and the words were out of his mouth before his brain could catch up and tell him to stop. She had stared at him, and for a moment he thought she might start crying from the way her eyes glistened and her lip trembled slightly, but then her expression was turning hard and a scowl settled on her face, and after that it became the norm for Lockwood to catch her eye and be glared at.

He knew he should apologise, but he couldn't figure out how to do it in a way that she would accept, and they were so entrenched in this hatred now that he was struggling to see how they could ever leave.

No, better to stick to what was normal and safe.

Not his normal mentality, but when venturing into the unknown meant exploring why he felt so warm, he was perfectly fine with staying behind the iron chains he had placed around his heart.

part 4

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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Tadaaaa here is the sequel to this post, which came from an ask that got me in a chokehold for days now so kudos to the lovely anon who sent that prompt to me! You can also read the whole thing on ao3 :)

As soon as Eddie got into the passenger seat of his Wayne's truck, he saw the whole world go blurry. He tried to blink away his tears, but it was no use – nothing ever escaped his uncle's notice anyway.

'Wanna tell me what's wrong, boy?' he asked while he started the car.

Eddie grimaced. 'You know how they say you should never meet your heroes?'

'Hm?'

'Well, I met mine. On the fucking train. Just yet.'

Wayne shot him an incredulous glance.

'What was the Black Sabbath guy doin' on a train?'

'What? No, it wasn't... No.'

'The Hobbits guy?'

'Jesus Christ, Wayne, Tolkien died like fifteen years ago, keep up.'

'You want me to keep guessin' or you gonna tell me?'

Eddie rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, no, you wouldn't guess it right anyway. It's this poet.'

'Don't think I ever heard you talk 'bout poetry before,' Wayne remarked.

And that was exactly the thing. Ronan Right had been something... private. Something between Eddie and the faceless blob in his mind that embodied Right – and maybe Jeff. Okay, and Jeff's mom. But it wasn't someone he'd talk people's ears off about on any occasion he got, like he did with plenty of other musicians or writers that he'd get all obsessive about.

Until Steve, that was. Steve, who had been casually listening to his music. Steve, who had recognized the book in his hands and effortlessly opened the floodgates of his obsession. Steve, who had said the most beautiful things about Corroded Coffin without even knowing who Eddie was. Steve, who had talked with him about their shared passions for hours. Steve, who he now somehow had to merge with Right in his mind.

Steve, who seemed so perfect that it made all of Eddie's alarm bells go off at the loudest possible volume. Because this couldn't be real. This was something straight from a disgustingly sweet romcom scenario, and if there was anything Eddie could be certain about, it was that his life was no romcom.

So during the short walk from the station to Wayne's car, Eddie's head had already come up with a dozen scenarios that were completely spiraling out of control – even though they'd all make for great songs, no doubt about that. Steve would die some kind of tragic death on his way to their first date. Steve was secretly addicted to crack. Steve was a stalkerish fan who had lied to him about being Ronan Right to get close to him. Steve would cheat on him on their wedding day.

The list of possibilities was endless and terrifying – while the list of possibilities for this having a happy ending, on the other hand, was exceptionally short.

'Was it that bad?' asked Wayne while they headed out of the city.

Usually, Eddie enjoyed amping up his dramatics to a maximum around Wayne, providing the much-needed balance to his uncle's calm and steady demeanor. But right now, Eddie felt himself deflate in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to make a show out of it.

'No,' he said, quietly. 'He was perfect.'

And Wayne must've heard it in his voice, must've picked up right away that this wasn't Eddie being dramatic, that something serious was going on here, because he gave him this look that was cutting way too deep into his heart.

'Nobody can be that perfect, you know,' Eddie continued. 'It's impossible. And he – he gave me his number. And I just know that if I call it, and we get to know each other better, I'll get crushingly disappointed sooner rather than later. Because something has to be, like, disturbingly wrong with this guy.'

Anyone else than Wayne would probably tell Eddie that he was being ridiculous, that he should get over himself and call Steve; that he should allow himself to let good things happen to him or some shit. But Wayne wasn't just anyone. Wayne was the one person who knew exactly what Eddie meant. The one person who had seen from up-close the shitshow that Eddie's life had been, who had retained a front row seat through all of it. And he had had his own fair share of misery himself, Eddie knew that much. He was too old and had gotten punched down too many times to still hold naive illusions of the possibility of good things.

So he didn't give him some bullshit advice. He merely patted Eddie's knee and turned up the radio.

---

Ever since Eddie had left Hawkins, it had become a habit of him to stay with Wayne for a couple of weeks every now and then. For all his desires to get the hell out of that town when he was younger, he still spent way too much time at his uncle's trailer. But it wasn't Hawkins that he came back for, it was uncle Wayne.

It was home. And it helped him breathe whenever the city got too intense. Helped him get detached from everything that distracted him from the shit that actually mattered. Helped him get his head right when Chicago was threatening to make him lose it.

Time seemed to move differently in Hawkins than in the city. Slower. More naturally, too, somehow. Maybe it was because of the lack of nightlife and flashing neon signs when the world was supposed to be wrapped in darkness. The fact that he could still see the stars when he stepped out of the trailer at nighttime. Maybe it was the quiet, which allowed him to actually hear himself think. Or maybe it was the predictability of it all: Wayne waking him up with a cup of coffee in the morning, the two of them sharing cigarettes on the porch, Eddie helping Wayne with some chores and then trying to write new songs until well into the night, when the world was his and his alone.

He kept reading Right almost religiously, but it was different, now. Now that he could hear Steve's voice say those words, now that he could envision the way in which the sun shone on his hair through the dirty train window and the shape of his hands clutching a walkman that had Eddie's music in it. It was all different.

After a week, Eddie had a whole album worth of songs about the deception of things that seemed perfect. He hadn't been able to write even one song about things ending well, about things working out. That wasn't his life. Things never worked out. Why would they, for a boy born in a household where the trifecta of poverty, addiction and violence was all he had ever known? In the five albums he had produced so far, he'd never experienced a lack of demons to write about.

So no, he wouldn't be calling Steve, even though he had read the number that was written down on the sleeve of his own album so often that it'd probably be impossible to ever erase it from his mind again. He'd protect himself, this time. He'd cherish the hours he got to spend with Ronan Right, the memories that were already starting to feel like a fever dream, and not let his heart break any further. Not this time. Not again.

---

'Got mail for ya.'

An envelope landed in Eddie's lap.

'What's this?'

'I dunno, 's your mail,' Wayne answered.

Eddie didn't recognize the handwriting and the Indianapolis post stamp didn't give him much of a clue either. It didn't make sense that someone would send him a letter at his uncle's place.

He frowned, roughly tore open the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out of it. It was neither directed at nor signed by anyone, but that wasn't necessary for Eddie to know who sent it.

'What is it, boy?' Wayne asked, a worried edge to his voice upon hearing the choked sob that freed itself from Eddie's throat.

Eddie knew that the words were only meant for him. But he and Wayne were a unit, always had been, ever since Eddie moved into Forest Hills. So he wordlessly handed the paper to his uncle, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wayne assessed the text with a wrinkled forehead, holding the paper at an arm's-length in order to read it.

'That from the boy you met on the train?'

Eddie nodded.

When his uncle looked up from the letter, Eddie caught an almost unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was soft, hopeful. Optimistic.

'You know I ain't any good with words, like you, or this – this poet,' Wayne said. 'But this...' He pressed the letter back into Eddie's hand. 'This looks like he knows you, Ed. Like he sees you. For all that you are.'

He didn't tell Eddie what to do; that wasn't his style, never had been. But what he did say kept bouncing through Eddie's head unceasingly, making him unable to sleep, unable to write, unable to think about anything else.

---

Eddie desperately wanted to say something meaningful when Steve picked up the phone. He wanted to thank him for reaching out, to apologize for being too much of a coward to call earlier – but what came out of his mouth instead was, 'How did you know where to find me?'

'Eddie, is that you?' It sounded like Steve didn't quite believe it.

'Yeah – yeah, it's me,' was the only thing he managed to get out of his mouth.

'Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped,' Steve told him. 'I just – I couldn't get you out of my head and it all felt so right, you know, like fate or some shit, so I just had to... I needed to try. And I knew your name, and that you were staying with your uncle, so I got help from some friends and they managed to find your uncle's address.'

And as if Eddie hadn't been enough of an emotional wreck over the past week, his vision got blurry with tears yet again.

'Sorry, was it – did I go too far?' Steve sounded nervous.

Eddie could perfectly envision the way he would be frowning and anxiously running a hand through his hair; as if they had already shared a whole lifetime of getting to know all about each other's mannerisms instead of a few stolen hours on a train.

He hated the idea of Steve thinking he had done something wrong when all he ever did was so fucking right, so he determinedly shook his head, then realized Steve wouldn't be able to see that, and started scraping for words.

'No, Steve, you... You're perfect. And that scared the shit out of me, because so far, my life hasn't really done perfect. Most of our songs, they're – well – creative retellings of my own shit.' Now that he started talking, the words actually came a lot easier. 'They're all real, at the core, when you peel away the layers of, like, monster slaying and fantasy imagery. Like, everything underneath all that, it's all... me. Damage, betrayal, fear, violence – all that shit is true. Life hasn't been kind to me, Steve. And I was convinced that you'd only become an addition to that long list of crap, because you seemed way too perfect. I never thought I could have something good. And you're good, Steve, you're so fucking good. So I couldn't believe it.'

A long silence ensued at the other side of the line. Then, a sigh.

Then, 'Eddie,' in the softest voice possible, like his name was something breakable. Eddie didn't remember ever having heard his name said like that.

'I think that was exactly what I heard in your songs. Why I kept listening to them. Why they inspired me so much.'

Eddie tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, suffocated by the emotions bubbling up inside of him.

'I wish I could hold you, right now.'

Eddie's breath caught. He knew exactly what he needed to do: he needed to stop running. He needed to trust that Steve could be right, for him. That Steve could be something good.

'I mean, you could come over to Hawkins and do just that, you know,' he suggested.

'D'you want me to?'

He nodded, again forgetting that Steve couldn't see him.

'Yeah, I'd like that. Probably still got half that cookie somewhere in my pocket, y'know. Maybe we could share it.'

Credit where credit is due: the line “He sees you, for all that you are” isn't mine, it's one of my favorite quotes from Schitt's Creek and I really wanted Wayne to say that to Eddie about Steve, so here we have it <3

@ My beloved 🥐 anon: I hope you like this ending, and that I came close enough to your suggestion to have Steve make Eddie a character in his next poem <3

Taglist: @kathorakiryu @goodolefashionedloverboi @undreaming-rambles @fangirlycupcake @ghouligans-central @henderdads @dolphincliffs @anglhrts @ajamlessbaby @yearningagain @vampireinthesun @xxbottlecapx @kissaphobic-kas @mad-h-w @booksandsience @obsessivlyme @ppunkpuppyy @barnes-bestgirl @capital-p-platonic @eddiemunsonmeltdowns @callme-keys

#tumblr didn't wanna format the poem right so i hope it's not too annoying i ended up inserting it as an image #also i'm v nervous about this one bc i can't write poetry yet here i am pretending like i can #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #fruity ficlet

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jeysbvck · 3 months

Note

7 with Adrian?

"go on. ride my thigh."

prompt list

pairing: adrian chase x reader

rating: explicit (minors dni!)

word count: 581

“We shouldn't be doing this.” You said through the moans as Adrian kissed your neck, your hands tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly in place on his lap.

“Hmm? You're having second thoughts?” Adrian asked, gliding his tongue down your skin, nibbling slightly on your collarbone as his hands gripped your ass. “Even when I do this?”

“Definitely not,” You replied, arching your neck to expose more skin. “I meant, we shouldn't be doing this here. What if someone walks in?”

Adrian pulled away from your neck and rested his forehead on yours, popping one of your blouse buttons open with one hand. “Well that's just part of the fun.” He smirked before his lips found yours. You reciprocated the kiss, your tongues wrapping around the other like two snakes. Adrian gave up fiddling with the buttons, and he ripped the silk shirt from your body; his cold hand gripping your breast, finger and thumb circling the nipple.

Any worry or anxiety you had about one of the team walking in on you — or of anything really, evaporated, all you cared about was this. The way Adrian's hands felt on your skin, you wanted, no, needed more. You shifted your body slightly, adjusting yourself so you were straddling his thigh, and Adrian's lust filled eyes got darker.

“Go on. Ride my thigh.” He ordered.

The corner of your mouth twitched upwards slightly. You maintained eye contact as you hitched up your skirt and you did as instructed. The friction from his denim jeans through your underwear was almost too much, but when Adrian unbuttoned his jeans and released his cock from its constraint, you practically salvated at the sight. So thick, so big, so tempting.

You looked back up at Adrian, his head thrown back against the office chair. You wanted him to watch you, to keep his eyes locked onto yours as you orgasmed from just this act, and so you grabbed his dick, making him open his eyes as his hips jutted up; making you almost lose your balance. His eyes met yours, widening when you licked your hand and spat on it before stroking his cock slowly. That, added with the eye contact and you riding his thigh, made the noises escaping his lips the dirtiest, sexiest sound you'd heard, and you quickened the pace on both actions.

Adrian grabbed your face and pulled you into him, the kiss sloppy and deep, and you knew you were close. But when one of his hands found its way into your underwear, his cold fingers massaging and flicking your clit, your body relinquished what little control it had. You rode Adrian's thigh harder and stroked his cock a little quicker as you enjoyed your high, and within seconds, Adrian had come undone.

“Well, that was fun.” You remarked with a smirk. You stood up and as you leaned over the desk to reach the tissues, Adrian came up behind you, his nose buried in the back of your head.

“Oh, I am not finished with you yet.” He mumbled, and you giggled as he nibbled your earlobe.

“I guess I could go for one more round.” You replied, reaching round to grab his cock.

“Oh no no, this is all you.” He said before he got down on his knees.

“Adrian,” you breathed, and he hummed as his fingers teased your underwear clad cunt. “Lock the door.”

#adrian chase fic #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fic #vigilante x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #my writing*#prompts #smut prompt

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lucysstoryworld · 1 year

Text

Lease of Life | Azriel x Reader Part 4

I'm back :) I didn't intend on taking such a long break, but life just gets in the way and I just couldn't even open my laptop. If I have forgotten to add you to the tag list, just let me know!

She was back. Standing there in front of you, in one piece. She was back. You could think about the male standing next to her later, you just needed to take in every detail of Feyre so you could confirm that she was, in fact, okay.

Yet, looming in her gaze was a haunted look. Like there was something grave crawling beneath her skin. While she looked relieved to be reunited with Rhysand, hugging him dearly and bringing her lips to his gently, you could tell something was not quite right with your sister. That feeling sent the power within you writhing. Instinct. That was what Rhys had told you. The power mainly comes from instinct. Most fae children learn to control it as they grow, but obviously you had to learn. As if sensing the spike in energy, Rhys looked toward you, “Feyre, darling. Someone has been quite anxiously waiting for your return,” He spoke, guiding his mate’s gaze to your own.

“(F/n),” She breathed, her eyes scanning over your body. You realised then and there that she had never seen you like this. Healthy. Feyre approached you, placing her hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Quite the change from the withering little girl in the cottage, right?” You stated awkwardly. All of the inner circle’s eyes were on you.

“Oh sweetheart,” She whispered, tears lining her tired eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You did not feel okay. And for that, you felt ungrateful. The first time you had felt okay since your world was tipped off balance was just moments ago when Azriel had allowed you that brief moment of calm. You leaned in to Feyre, taking her face into your hands, rubbing your thumbs over the purple underscoring her eyes. “How about you, Fey?” You whispered, leaning your forehead against her own, “You don’t look okay.”

“Where’s Nesta and Elain?” She said, sucking in a harsh breath and standing straight. Classic Archeron tactic.

Avoid, avoid, avoid.

There was a pregnant silence following the High Lady’s question, no one knowing exactly how to explain her siblings’ current states. It was then that Rhysand took Feyre by the arm and lead her to a couch. Slowly, he explained Elain’s catatonic state. You watched with keen eyes as her demeanour changed, concern filling her body as she began to fidget with her hands. And Nesta. It only got worse when they began to explain Nesta’s seemingly contradictory response to becoming ‘one of you’ as she had put it, Rhys explained.

“I want to see them both.” Not a question, a statement.

You decided to hang back and allow Feyre to have a moment with your sisters alone. Quite frankly, you could not muster the strength to go and watch how utterly miserable Feyre would be when she set her eyes on Elain. Or listen to the snide remarks Nesta was sure to hurl at her. No, you definitely could not watch that. Not after the last time Nesta grated on your nerves. Certainly not a good idea since that feeling that something was definitely wrong with Feyre had set that whirring in your veins alight.

It was as though that moment of reprieve you had felt not even thirty minutes previous hadn’t happened. The sounds of the floorboards creaking ever so slightly from the level above sent painful sparks down your spine. Each spark almost urging you toward Feyre and demand what was wrong. Yet, you remained seated. The feeling was similar to that you felt the day you tried to hurt Nesta and you would not allow yourself near any of them. Slowly, you lifted yourself from the couch, and quietly prowled to your room. That was where you were the least likely to hurt anyone by sending a tirade of glass and wood.

Reaching the safety net that was your bedroom felt like a chore, the power bubbling more and more as your mind entertained the idea of destroying anything and anyone that had left Feyre looking so… ghostly. When you finally closed the door behind you, it all came to a head. A burst of energy exploded from you and shredded everything in your vicinity. Wood splintered, books flittered, fabric torn. You were glad that Rhys had placed a silencing ward around your room.

Heaved breaths left your body from the unsolicited exertion. Hands shook as you lowered yourself to your knees and desperately tried to clean the mess you created.

Pathetic.

Tears of defeat streamed down your face as you took in the carnage you had released. You wanted to be able to support your sisters, like they had done for you in your times of need albeit in their own ways. Instead, you were falling apart at the idea that Feyre had been hurt. The sobs turned into wails as realisation set in.

You had not changed.

Yes, your body had changed. But you had not changed. You were still the same weak, sad little girl who could not do anything for herself, let alone for others. Feyre had always been strong. Nesta had always been fiercely protective and Elain had always been wildly supportive.

You had never given yourself the chance to be any of that.

And for that, you were being punished. The Cauldron had noticed it and decided you were to be punished for being weak. To have a constant reminder that you were never in control.

“(F/n)?” A voice called, pulling your focus to reality. Azriel. A gentle knock sounded from the door. “(F/n). Feyre is looking for you.”

Panic washed through your veins as you scrambled to wipe away the tears from your cheeks. Slowly, you opened the door a crack. Just wide enough to make eye contact and hide the disaster you created in the room. “I’ll be there in a moment,” You replied, willing your voice to sound strong.

Azriel’s eye scanned down your body, aware that you had just been crying. “You doing okay?”

Such a loaded, yet easy question. That alone triggered more tears to leak down your eyes. Your voice rippling, “Uh yeah. Just uh...” You whispered, looking up as if it would make the crying cease, “Just overwhelmed. I’ll be out soon, I just need a moment.”

Not a very convincing answer, you knew. But you hoped the Spymaster would catch on and leave you be. “I can get Feyre to come to you, if you would prefer to stay in here,” He replied, his voice gentle as if you were about to shatter in front of him.

“No!” You did not want Feyre to see what you had done and know that you were as weak as the day she left. Your sudden response had Azriel’s eyes narrowing slightly, “No, sorry. I just want some time alone to collect myself… I’ll just be out soon, okay?” If the gods were listening, they would let this be the end of the conversation.

“What’s going on?” He pried, not satisfied with your act.

Clearly, the gods weren’t listening.

“Nothing, Azriel. Just leave me be,” You snapped. Guilt soon washed over you, Azriel did not deserve that.

Though your anger set Azriel aback, he did not relent, “Open your door,” He demanded, knowing that you were hiding something. And if he had read your mood correctly when you had been reunited with Feyre, then he was sure it wasn’t good.

It was the first time you had seen Azriel’s assertive side. The side in which you were sure was what he used when conducting his spy business. The Shadowsinger. It left no room for argument or discussion. However, it did not intimidate you in the way you were sure it intimidated his victims. Because there was concern weaved through his tone.

Not finding it within yourself to refuse, you stepped back from the door and allowed him to push the door open and observe the carnage. Every hair on your body stood on end as you watched his eyes scan what was left of the room. Humiliation followed next. What would he think of you now? A sad, angry girl who could not contain her emotions long enough to deal with them appropriately.

“Are you okay?” He questioned again, eyes meeting your own.

You weren’t sure if it was you or how he asked simple questions but once again, a cascade of emotions flushed over you and sobs began to wrack your body. This time, Azriel approached you and wrapped his arms around you. The warmth of his embrace and tightness of his grip made you feel safe enough to let go completely. Burying your head in his chest, you weeped harder than you ever had before, blubbering about the mess you had created. And he listened. Stroking your hair, he listened to you wail about how you couldn’t control yourself and ‘it just happened.’

“It’s okay,” He cooed quietly, massaging your scalp slightly. “We will get this sorted. It was just an accident.”

Looking up into his beautiful golden eyes, with tears still leaking from your own, “Please don’t tell the others. I don’t want them to know that I can’t control myself.”

“What about your room?” He asked, wondering how you expected to not tell anyone about the room that was in tatters around you. Azriel watched as you seemed to scramble for excuses you could make up about the room. He watched as the fact of not being able to explain it away dawned on you. “How about I tell Rhysand and Feyre and I will make sure they don’t breathe a word of it to you or the others?”

While it was unlikely that Feyre would let this go, it calmed you. You did not want to talk about it and not being the one to tell them that you destroyed your room felt like a weight had been lifted. “You would do that for me?”

“I will do that for you, sweetheart,” He answered without hesitation. “Now, how about you go to Feyre now and I will get Rhys to do his weird magic fixing thing on your room. I will tell him to tell Feyre later.” You let out a small chuckle at his little joke.

Opening your mouth to thank him, he raised his hand, “Don’t thank me. This is what we do for each other here. Friends help each other.”

With a gentle smile, you left the room while your crush on Azriel grew yet seemed so far.

Friends. That was all you were to him. All you would ever be.

And that was okay, you guessed.

***

“And how have you been settling in to life as far?” Feyre asked cautiously, having filled the previous conversation with light banter before now. You paused, caught in a mental dispute over whether you should lie and let Feyre settle in after being away for what seemed like quite a taxing few weeks or being honest and adding to her ever-growing list of worries. “You know… it’s okay if you’re not finding it easy. When I was turned, I barely ate, barely slept and broke nearly all the doors in the spring court.”

“How did you manage to bounce back?” Hope bloomed in your chest that she would have a secret solution to all the problems you were facing.

“I nearly didn’t,” Feyre sighed, eyes looking beyond as if she could see the shadow of her previous self sitting in front of her. Her eyes met yours once again, “But, I was rescued by Mor and brought here to the Night Court. Rhys and the others were patient with me. Encouraged me to work through the trauma I had lived in both Under the Mountain and in the Spring Court after. It wasn’t easy, but if it weren’t for everyone living under this roof I wouldn’t have made it.”

Disappointment flooded your stomach at the realisation there was no easy fix to it. Feyre eyed you, clearly waiting for your input. A shaky exhale breezed through your lips, “I just want it to be okay now.”

“Tell me more about what you’re feeling.”

“I… I hate all of this. I just feel like the old me is living in a new body. Like everything that I wanted to change about myself is the same. I’m still weak, I’m still incapable of caring for myself properly. I feel so useless… I guess this change has made me realise there’s a lot I don’t like about myself and I don’t know how to fix it,” You admitted, shame dusting a deep red across your cheeks as you laid yourself bare to your sister.

“For one, you’re not useless. You never have been,” Was the quick response you were not expecting. Sensing that you were confused by her answer, Feyre continued, “You were always my rock when we were living in the cottage, you know. Not because you were sick and needed me, but because you always did what you could for me. And that is the quality about you that stopped us starving back then. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the energy to continue fighting for us like I had. Before all of this happened,” She gestured to herself and her surroundings, “My biggest dream was to gather enough money to have better home for you, me and father. Nesta and Elain would be married happily and I would care for you properly, I would be able to paint every day and dad would… do whatever it dad does,” She giggled at you.

Smiling in amusement, you countered, “But then you began dreaming of the stars.”

“And then I began dreaming of the stars,” She repeated, a fond smile on her face and twinkling in her eyes. “I know this isn’t an easy transition, I wish I could have protected you from what happened. But I need you to know that I am here for you. For whatever you need. And the others are as well.”

“I know,” You whispered, pink dusting your cheeks at how Azriel had helped you so far.

Feyre was sure to have noticed your blushing, yet she did not mention it, “I know it is unfamiliar to you, but perhaps you could start training with Cassian or Azriel. I found it to be a life saver when I was adjusting. Just a suggestion though, we can explore other ways to make this easier on you.”

“I’ll have a think on it,” You said. Thoughts still on the Shadowsinger, you looked at Feyre with a sudden seriousness. “Is there one of those sound charms on this room?”

Feyre looked at your warily, before replying, “There is now. What is it?”

“Please don’t tell Rhysand this,” You began, sheepishness taking hold. With a nod from your elder sister, you continued, “I… I uh… I have come to realise that I know nothing about being with men… males… and I want to… y’know… be better at talking to one I like.” Gods above, you wished you never started this topic of conversation when you saw the wolfish grin that stretched across Feyre’s lips.

“Go on,” She encouraged.

“It’s just… I have a small crush and I’m fairly sure he just sees me as a friend but I was wondering how I talk to him enough to know for sure,” You wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

“Well, I wouldn’t be quick to make assumptions. But for now, just continue whatever you have going on with him for now. I want you to focus on yourself first, you don’t need to be heartbroken while also trying to make this transition. Trust me, I’ve been there. Not a good look,” She answered seriously. Feyre, the ever fierce protector. "But, in a few weeks, we can revisit and see where you're at and see how this 'small crush' is developing," She giggled.

* * *

Some hours later, you had built up enough courage to revisit the site of your destruction. As if Fate was looking down upon you, Rhys also happened to be walking from your room toward the living room. A charming smile stretches across his lips, nothing but kindness emanating from him. Your steps slowed, waiting for the humiliating moment where he would start discussing the way you ransacked your room. Steps went from slow to a complete halt as your stomach fluttered uncomfortably. Yet, Rhysand continued his stride.

All he did was send you a wink as he passed you by.

Tag List:

@rebs2210 @meritxellao @blueeclipsepaperstudent @fredssweasleys @pricklepearbloom @emptyporsche @the-fae-are-taking-over @kuraikei @garbagecryptid98 @weirdo-fun @balam-sen @judig92 @ruler-of-hades @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @kexrtiz @marina468 @edie-readie @baebeepeach @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @percyjacksonspeen @issybee0611 @hanatsuki-hime @honeyrydernot @buckysimp101 @t0uch-starved-h0e @inpraizeof @bsenpai-blog @alainabooks143 @xreaderbooksreads @theravenphoenix26 @feyres-fireheart @highlyselectiveextrovert @illyrian-dreamer @fall-myriad @introvertsuntes68-blog @highlady-ofillyria @azzydaddy @fan-of-many-bands @tcris2020 @cmay25 @fussel9913 @adultseatdinonuggets4dinner @brekkershadowsinger @i-am-fascinated

#acotar azriel #azriel x you #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar angst #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

Text

Fresh Pain

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍭🍭🍭

Hot pain shoots down your arm. You groan as you wiggle your fingers and give up. It hurts too much. You gnash your teeth and whimper. You puff through your nose as agony courses through your muscles.

The gunshot echoes in your mind. Birdy. You should’ve known she’d blab. You really didn’t think she was that stupid. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

You sigh. What can you do now? Stay angry? She might deserve it but not as much as they fuckwads who took you.

“You’re not helping yourself,” the man says as he rouses in the chair. He sits up and stretches his neck. “You tense up like that and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“Like you give a shit,” you growl. “Easier to trade us like cattle if we can’t fight back.”

He snickers, “well, I did tell him not to fire into the goddamn car but I think he did us all a favour clipping your wing.”

Your eyes roll back and you curl your lip. His arrogance reminds you of Sam in a way, but there’s less humour there. He’s king shit among the shitlords.

“So, how much am I worth? Is it a bundle deal?”

He pokes his tongue out, gliding it over his lower lip as he runs his index down the cleft in his chin. He’s amused. You’re not.

“You know, I don’t think there’s a price worthy of you. As much as I could use the pocket change.”

“Bullshit. You’re working for them. I know a goddamn pig when I see one.”

“Ex-pig. Fed.” He explains, “pays a lot more to work for myself.”

“Oh, yeah,” you wince and hiss as another pang coils in your arm, “and what about the other two?”

“Business partners.”

“Oh, if you asked me, I would’ve thought the other one with the shit stache was the leader. You fall in line right behind his greasy ass, don’t you?”

He rumbles, half a growl, half a chuckle. He leans forward, hands clutched together, “you’re trying to provoke me.”

“If this is a job to you, you should finish it,” you sneer, “arm hurts so bad, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“And what about your friends? You don’t care about them? You haven’t even asked.”

“I don’t gotta ask,” you suck in a breath and shake a hand in front of your arm, not daring to touch your wrapped wound, “goddamn it. God… urgh.”

“I told you to relax,” he chides.

“Hard to fucking relax with a jackass sitting in the corner like a goddamn Bond villain.”

“August,” he stands, “if you’re wondering. And you’re Candy. Fitting, you are a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

Your eyes list away and you drop your head back weakly. He’s irritating, almost as much as Sam. This is why you sold a dream to mean and not the real thing.

“I got some painkillers,” he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, “if you ask nicely, I could slip you a few. Strong stuff, too.”

You glare at him. You’re not stupid. A bullet wound isn’t going to save you. It’s just another disadvantage.

“I’m good,” you snip.

“Strong, I like it. Stubborn, don’t like that so much,” he traces his fingers along your shoulder, “but that face balances the tables, don’t it?”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Hmph, aren’t you a picky bitch?” He scoffs and grips your arm, squeezing until you shriek. You kick as lightning shoots up to the joint and ripples through your flesh. “I’m tryna be a nice guy here and you’re not helping, are you?”

“Fucker–”

He rips his hand away from your arm and taps your cheek. Not a full slap but enough to sting. He frames your chin and forces your head straight.

“Enough of that. I don’t like girls with ugly mouths,” he seethes as he leans in.

“Talk about an ugly mouth,” you retort.

He shoves you back, slipping his hand down to your neck. He squeezes and pins you to the pillows. You cough, arm thrumming until you squeak. As if this couldn’t be worse. A new set of psychos to deal with.

“You got two choices, cupcake. I can feed you some pills or something else. All I’m asking is for a little gratitude. Just… be nice.”

You furrow your nose defiantly. A scream curdles in the air and permeates through the wall. Birdy. As much as you hate her, you don’t want her to be hurt. Your eyes flit to the door and you try to sit up without thinking. He keeps you down without effort.

“She’ll be fine,” he bends over you, close enough that his breath wraps around you, “as long as you behave.”

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x candy #au #sweet treats #mission impossible: fallout #series #dark!fic #drabble #drabble series

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jadeazora · 7 months

Text

(Archie and Maxie, Rose, Guzma, etc. not included since they were much more mild imo.)

A more detailed list of their crimes:

RR Giovanni specifically since he's always has some kinda scheme going and seems among the most competent of the lot, extremely manipulative and charismatic, was able to force all the past villains to band together to fight off Team Rocket on Pasio (or somehow lead them in the RR storyline)

Cyrus in Platinum was really only foiled thanks to Giratina, otherwise, he was the closest to actually winning imo. Literally, what could the player have done in that situation? The Lake guardians could only balance one dragon, and while we have the Master Ball, he's the one that gave it to us in the first place. Do you think he'd really let us just chuck it at one of the Dragons? That he couldn't just warp it away or freeze it in time?

Ghetsis. Groomed his (adopted) son in order to be the perfect little puppet king, with apparent intention to dispose of him after he outlived his usefulness, first villain to actually try to murder us, possibly implied to have killed N in Ultra (I said this before: I do not like that he has N's Dragon. Not one bit!), and then he physically assaults and threatens to kill Lillie if the player doesn't stand down.

Lysandre. Attempted genocide with a WMD. His organization has strong secret police traits, even tho those aren't developed too well in the original XY games. Haven't looked at him in the same way since he executed a couple of Team Rocket grunts by boiling them alive. (That's just really gruesome for Pokémon. And then it's heavily hinted he was stalking a Team Break grunt with that same intent, just waiting for the guy to push his luck.)

SM Lusamine. Emotionally abusive and controlling to her own daughter, might strike a bit closer to home than with Ghetsis. Froze potentially dozens of Pokémon, going by those cryo tanks all over her room, and then flips out as the Motherbeast and tries to attack Lillie.

Volo. The way the game builds us having a bond with him before he reveals that he was just using us all along, and then orders Giratina to kill us all with a smile on his face was so brutal, and I never saw it coming. Adding to it, we're alone with this man with likely no one else around for miles at several points in the game, one of these being our literal most helpless moment when we've been banished and the clans can't help us under threat of war.

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year

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Francis Drake: Destiny in Motion

Not 100% accurate.

Translation under the cut.

Fate always moves before you know it, and by the time you realize it's too late, the waves have already swallowed you up.

Mitsuki: "Historical Figures Who Shaped the World. I didn't know there was a book like this."

Sebastian and I were sorting through the bookshelves in the library when I found a history book.

Mitsuki: "Napoleon's great achievements are featured here."

Sebastian: "Napoleon is a hero among great men."

(Sebastian, you're such a fanboy when it comes to Napoleon.)

Smiling and flipping through the pages, I found a list of soldiers, musicians, painters, scholars, and other historical figures, but among them一

Mitsuki: "The Pirate who moved the world?"

When I saw a guy with an unusual nickname, I tilted my head, and Sebastian peeked at the book.

Sebastian: "Oh, you mean Francis Drake of England."

Mitsuki: "So he was a pirate. Did he do something amazing to be called a great man?"

Sebastian: "Yes. Drake was a 16th-century pirate-turned-naval admiral in the service of Queen Elizabeth I."

Sebastian: "While sailing around the world, he discovered the Drake Passage and brought back looted goods to enrich the nation's finances."

Sebastian: "He also defeated the invincible Spanish Armada, seized control of the seas, and made England a powerful nation.”

Mitsuki: "Does that mean the country and the pirates were in cahoots!?"

I'm genuinely surprised.

Sebastian: "History isn't always pretty, and I'm sure this was a historic milestone."

Sebastian: "One pirate changed the balance of power in the world."

That afternoon一

As I went shopping, I recalled my conversation with Sebastian.

(I guess not all heroes like Napoleon run the world.)

(Pirates have a rough and scary image.)

???: "Yo, missy."

(Yup, yup, like this one一huh?)

I looked up and saw a large red-faced drunk man standing in front of me.

Drunk Guy: "Are you a foreigner? You're pretty cute. Why don't you pour me a drink?"

Mitsuki: "Sorry, but I'm still working."

I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my wrist tightly.

Mitsuki: "Let me go!"

Drunk Guy: "Just come with me."

(I can't shake him off. Somebody!)

I called out for help in my heart, and then一

???: "It's ungentlemanly to force yourself on a lady."

(Huh?)

I turned at the sound of the voice and saw a man with a half-up hairstyle and a hat standing there smiling.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Miss, if you're in trouble, I can help you."

(I don't know who he is, but一)

Mitsuki: "Please help me! This guy is bothering me!"

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Yes. As you say, Your Majesty."

Drunk Guy: "What the hell are you doing? Don't just butt in here all of a sudden!"

The drunk guy pushed me and punched the guy with the hat, but he dodged his fist and tripped him up, knocking him down.

(Wow.)

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Can you run?"

Mitsuki: "Y-Yes!"

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Okay, this way then!"

He took my hand, and we ran out of the place.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "I don't see him. It looks like we lost him."

Mitsuki: "Haa... Thank God."

I let out a deep breath, and the man with the hat bent over to look into my face.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "You okay? You're shaking like a deer."

(I didn't notice it.)

Mitsuki: "Don't worry! I'll calm down in a bit."

I felt bad worrying the stranger, so I managed to smile and hide my trembling hands.

Then he squinted his eyes with his gaze locked on me.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "There, there. It's fine now. Take it easy, little fawn."

(.............)

My heart beat loudly as he patted me on the head.

(He's treating me like a child, but that's actually helping.)

(His smile makes me feel at ease.)

I felt relieved for a short time.

Drunk Guy: "I finally found you. How dare you!"

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Wow, you're a persistent old man."

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Sorry about this, little fawn."

Mitsuki: "Huh? Kyaah!"

Before I could answer, he suddenly lifted me and got into a boat parked on the Seine.

(What is he doing? I mean, can we just ride on it without permission!?)

Lots of things were running through my mind, but then he suddenly put his hat on my head and said一

Man with half-up hairstyle: "I'm going to fly this thing for a bit, so take care of it. Hold on tight, okay?"

As soon as he chuckled, he started rowing the boat.

The drunken man ran after us along the riverside for a while, but eventually, he disappeared, and we escaped.

But then一

Mitsuki: "Um, where are we!?"

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Haha, I wonder where?"

I had no idea where we were, but this place was so peaceful.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Sorry, I guess I got carried away and rowed too far."

(I think he rowed a bit too energetically because he was having fun along the way.)

He laughed so openly that I was taken aback, but I started laughing too.

Mitsuki: "Pfft一ahahaha!"

Man with half-up hairstyle: "What's wrong?"

Mitsuki: "I didn't expect this kind of escapade, so I was a little bit excited."

Mitsuki: "But thanks for your help."

As I bowed my head, he smiled again.

Man with half-up hairstyle: "No need to be so stiff. What's your name?"

Mitsuki: "My name is Mitsuki."

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Mitsuki, the trembling fawn."

Mitsuki: "I'm not shaking anymore, and I'm not a fawn, Monsieur."

Man with half-up hairstyle: "No honorifics, please."

Mitsuki: "Oh, um, I'm not a fawn."

Man with half-up hairstyle: "Hahaha! You’re so honest, cute, and sweet."

I was a little embarrassed by his carefree words, but it looked like his easygoing tone conveyed his personality.

Mitsuki: "Can you tell me your name too?"

Drake: "Me? I'm Drake."

Drake: "I've been working on a sightseeing boat on the Seine River lately. Fuwaah..."

He yawned and lay down on the boat.

Drake: "The weather is so nice. The boat is rocking nicely, so I'll take a nap."

Mitsuki: "Really? Here?"

Drake: "Yup, here."

Drake: "I'm the kind of guy who doesn't hold back on his desires, even if the world could end at any moment."

Drake: "I'll get you home before dark, I promise."

I just shrugged my shoulders as he fell asleep.

(I'm getting caught up in his pace, but strangely, I don't mind it.)

Perhaps it was his easygoing attitude that made me think so.

Suddenly, the wind ruffled Drake's hair.

(Huh? Wait a minute.)

(Drake is the same name as the pirate I saw in the book.)

As I was thinking about this, I also laid my body down on the boat and was lulled to sleep.

There was a roaring, swirling sound of waves.

(Where am I?)

My blurry vision gradually became more vivid, and the view of the rough sea and large boats appeared before me.

(Why am I here? Is this a dream?)

Feeling like I was in a movie, a man's voice suddenly reached my ears.

Crew: "He's a monster! Sir Drake's a monster!"

Crew: "Bloodthirsty vamp一guh!"

Moments later, a knife flashed, and with a grunt, the person fell.

The person who wielded the knife wiped off the blood and slowly looked up.

???: "Even though I hunted, and hunted..."

???: "Hahaha! Yeah, a place where it's a do-or-die suits me."

???: "Nobles, pirates, humans, and vampires. They're all just a bunch of selfish, greedy bastards when you take their skin off."

???: "It's in the nature of all creatures to kill and destroy each other."

(That guy...)

!!!

Mitsuki: "Hm? Huh?"

Drake: "Oh. Are you awake?"

I opened my eyes and saw the sky, the familiar Parisian landscape, and Drake's face peering at me from above.

Mitsuki: "S-Sorry, I fell asleep, too! Wait, we're back in town?"

Drake: "Well, yeah, just in case."

I got up in a hurry and returned the hat I was holding.

(I can't remember exactly, but I think I had a weird dream.)

(There was this guy wearing this hat, who looked like a pirate, and he was yelling.)

Drake: "Mitsuki, what's wrong?"

Mitsuki: "Nothing! Thanks again for today, Drake. See you."

(Will I see him again?)

I swallowed the words, and Drake, who had received the hat, spoke.

Drake: "Let's play when we see each other again, little fawn."

I said goodbye to Drake and started to head back to the mansion, hoping to get home before nightfall.

(Drake is very carefree.)

I looked back on a bumpy day and smiled.

The rescue, the boat getaway, his pace, and the strange dream I had when we parted...

(Pirate "Francis Drake" and Drake the Sailor)

(It's just a coincidence, right?)

Convincing myself of this, I quietly put my encounter with him away in the treasure chest of my heart.

Drake: "If we ever see each other again, huh?"

Gazing at Mitsuki's back as she walked away, Drake chuckled to himself.

Drake: "Only if your and my fate will ever overlap."

Drake: "Oh man. If only I had my boat, I would have snatched her away."

He muttered a regret for the fine treasure he had found and put his hat back on.

The smell of the seeping tide grazed Drake's nose and melted into the Parisian sky.

Unaware of each other, Francis Drake and Mitsuki met over time.

Fate eventually hits them both like an irresistible wave, but that is another story.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp jp #ikevamp francis #francis drake #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp translation #ikevamp #cybird

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punks-never-die205 · 4 months

Text

Honeysuckle: Red

afab!reader x Vampire!Eustass Kid

cw: Vampire AU with blood, violence, gore, some very marginally dubious consent, 18+ only

Summary: Vampires are real, and the World Government has ways of maintaining the balance of power and peace between humans and Vampires. Most of it is simple extortion, but one person's desire for freedom threatens to upend the delicate balance and change the world completely.

Tag List: @keiva1000

Chapter 5: Enthralled

You sit on the small sofa in your room, watching a small fire that you risked starting in the hearth. You’d made sure to pull the curtains and even used a few books to keep them tight against the wall so that the small warmth and light didn’t cause any extra issues.

You didn’t know how long Kid was going to be gone, but worry made the minutes seem even longer. You’d worked so hard to adjust to being awake at night, but you were diurnal by nature, and without any company, or chores, it was hard to stay awake.

You wanted to. You wanted to be up when he came back. Even if he yelled at you or got irritated about it. Something in the back of your mind just… wanted to be there when he got back.

He hadn’t even truly scared you earlier. Five days was enough time to realize that he was intimidating, and terrifying when he wanted to be, but he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t a voracious, mindless beast, sniffing out his next meal like some wild animal.

He wasn’t like what you’d been raised to believe Vampires were like.

You’d expected that at least some of what you’d learned would be factual, but the more you thought about what you knew versus what he knew, and what you’d experienced, the more you realized it was all propaganda. The only way to know the truth was to learn it for yourself.

The only way to do that was to travel.

Traveling meant not staying in the manor with Kid, but it wasn’t like you had a strict schedule. There wasn’t any harm in staying for a while. Long enough to learn from him. Long enough to build up the strength and stamina to look after yourself.

Did Vampires travel?

You’d been told they made lairs, or nests of a sort, and rarely moved from those. Instead, they relied on thralls to do things for them. Tend to chores, offer up blood to their master, go fetch victims. Evil Vampire stuff.

All the reasons why Honeysuckles were protected and controlled the way they were.

An unexpected sound pulled you from your thoughts and you stilled. Focusing entirely on any other sound you could pick up you held your breath. The front door hadn’t slammed, but it had opened, and closed, you were certain.

It seemed too soon for Kid to have returned, and you weren’t sure what to do. If it was Kid you wanted to be able to see him, but the effects of your blood would last much longer, and if he was out blowing off his energy and anger it would be an hour at least before he even started to cool down. At least, with your blood empowering him, he wouldn’t be feeling exhaustion like usual for a long while.

There was more than one person, you realized, muffled voices you didn’t recognize sounding against the boards of the house. They weren’t harsh and curt, like orders between marines, they were more relaxed and jovial.

You heard someone call out for Kid by name, and then another voice. Big booming voices that would carry easily through the entire manor. You can hear them working through the house, a few of them less-booming, adding to the chorus.

Voices turning from reverie to concern.

Getting up off the small sofa, you walk closer to the door, trying to make out the voices. You can hear them coming up the stairs.

“- he wouldn’t leave without good reason.” One voice says.

“Where the fuck would he go though?” Another asks.

“I mean, it’s Kid, he could just be tearing through the forest cause he’s bored.” The third voice sounds more muffled than the others, and you aren’t sure why.

The only thing that matters is that they sound like they know Kid well, and that’s going to have to be good enough for now. They sounded concerned too, and you can at least tell them something.

You open the door, and the hall goes completely quiet. Your eyes meet three sets of eyes on very tall, very surprised faces. One man towers over the others, but none of them are short. One wears a mask and has a cascade of blonde hair, the other almost looks like he’s wrapped in barbed wire, until you realize it’s all tattoos.

There’s a long few seconds of silence between all four of you, the sounds of other people in other parts of the manor still calling out for Kid.

“… Hi.” You manage, straightening up a little and opening the door more. “You’re… Eustass’… friends?”

The mask man nods, the other two just stare at you mutely.

“I’m…” You step out into the hall, finding it hard to meet their slack-jawed gazes. “Eustass said I c-could stay. He was here… but he, um… ate…” You tug the collar of your shirt up a little. “Got… angry, and then left, and told me to… to go to my room.”

“Your room?” The mask man repeats in disbelief. “That room?”

You nod. “He’s had me use it the, um, last couple of days. Nights.” You correct. “I’ve been cleaning, and earning my keep, and… and not just taking advantage of him.” You try to assert.

Your words seem to be enough to break whatever was bothering the other three and they all laugh. The tattooed one and the tall one are both nearly howling, and the masked man’s shoulders move, but you don’t hear anything coming from him.

“Take… advantage…” The tattooed man gasps, hands on his knees as he works to catch his breath. “Of Kid!” He devolves into laughter again, nearly crying from it.

The laughter seems to have gotten everyone else’s attention and soon the second floor hallway has twenty or so people in it, yourself included. It’s an eclectic gathering at the least. After a few more rounds of laughter among the others, you get some introductions, and have names to put to faces. You offer your name in return, but nothing more.

Killer is apparently the appointed spokesman of the group and steps toward you. “If Kid ran out of here angry he might be out all night. Are you hungry?”

“A little. I did get to eat breakfast before he left, so… I’m not starving.” You look over the people in the hall and look back to Killer. “Are you all his thralls?”

There’s a collection of giggles through the gang again and Killer shakes his head. “Kid, Heat, Wire and I are all vampires.” He explains. “Kid might be big and imposing, but no one needs twenty thralls.”

“Then, there’s four masters of the house?” You question tilting your head. That didn’t seem right either and Killer shakes his head again.

“We all follow Kid’s lead.” He clarifies. “The Government would call it a coven, but instead of a collective, we all just decided to let Kid call the shots.”

“Him?” You ask the question with disbelief before clamping your hands over your mouth. Chuckles shift through the group, and there’s a good natured feeling among everyone.

“Has he hurt you?” Killer questions, and you shake your head. “Done anything cruel?” He prompts and you shake your head again. “He’s loud and blunt, but not so bad, yeah?”

You smile a little and nod your head. Killer ruffles your hair, hand warm and heavy, almost as big as Kid’s. “He’s a real bastard sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Smarter than he acts too, and that’s why we follow him.”

“Let’s get you something to eat.” A taller lady with bright curly orange hair says, holding out her hand. “We just came back with a ton of supplies, so we can make whatever you like.”

You reach out and put your hands in hers, letting her lead you after a small hesitation. Kid had only told you to go to your room, he hadn’t told you to stay there. He probably knew the crew would be back before he was, and just didn’t want you wandering around the manor.

“Do you know how long he’s been gone?” Hip asks, as Quincy and Killer moved around the kitchen, working on making food for the whole crew.

“It… has only been three or four hours.” You admit nervously.

“Do you know why he was angry?” Killer questions. He’s not even facing you, working on cooking.

“I… yes, but… I,” you stammer nervously. You can feel embarrassment rushing through you. “I don’t know if I should say anything.” You admit in a very small voice.

There’s a long quiet in the room before Dive pipes up. “Did you call him fat or something?”

“Huh?” “Dive!” “Why would he even care!” “I don’t know!” “By the seas child, what was that?”

“He’s been eating people food again and maybe he got fat!” Dive yells, stamping her foot on the seat of the chair she’s standing on. “We haven’t seen him in weeks.”

The entire crew’s eyes turn to you, and you look around nervously. “Um?”

Dive rolls her eyes. “Was our idiot captain fat or not, keep up!” She snaps, smacking the table a little.

Hip smacks Dive against the back of her head. “She’s not going to understand your form of admiration you pig-tailed idiot.” Hip takes a deep breath as Heat grabs Dive, putting a hand over her mouth and keeping her arms pinned. She’s mumbling and growling the entire time but neither Heat nor anyone else seems bothered by it.

“… Did you insult the captain?” Hip questions after a moment.

You shake your head. “I did not.”

“Did you tell him you’re a honeyblood?” Wire questions flatly.

Aside from Wire, Heat and Killer, all eyes turn to you again. There’s no hiding the answer to his question, as you flinch. The continued stares cause you to put a hand over the teeth marks you’re certain have been clearly visible from the start.

“I did.”

“Before, or after?” Killer questions, back still turned to you, his focus still on cooking.

“… Before.”

“You’re from the facility.” Wire says, and you nod.

“Well… Shit.”

#Honeysuckle: Red #Eustass Kid #x reader #reader insert #Vampire AU #one piece fanfiction

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starlightandetherealshadows · 9 months

Note

How high are the ro's libido? 🤤 and with who did they have their first time? do they still see them or talk to them?

Oooo let’s see,

I’m getting sleepy so I apologize for my potential rambling. Might edit this in the morning cuz I’m half delusional with exhaustion

Ayana/Adriel: lowest sex drive of the RO’s, but it isn’t necessarily low in general. They like equal balances of sexual and non sexual intimacy. A likes to wait until they’re done a few dates, had an emotional connection at a minimum level before taking someone to bed. Sex isn’t high on their priority list, anyway. Doesn’t mean they don’t really enjoy it. First time was with Leila Malone, in the summer between 11th and 12th grade. Short lived summer fling, they still follow each other on IG.

Cecelia/Chase: medium libido, first time was with their first girlfriend Amber and it was very awkward but in like a sweet way. They don’t talk to Amber anymore, but if the two ever run into each other, they’re cordial. It takes C a while and a high friendship level for them to begin to feel sexual attraction, but after that, yea they’re down for a good time. Because they’re less experienced, sex stresses them out a bit because they’re hyper focused on being “good at it” rather than enjoying themselves.

Zero: a virgin (had their first kiss at 20..with V), and doesn’t it know it yet but they have a high libido. Sex makes them feel very vulnerable. Zero loves that overwhelming, free fall feeling they experience, and the knowledge that someone is going to take care of them and make them feel good. Z also likes knowing that they can test someone’s self control and turn them on. (Z is such a bratty sub bottom lord jesus)

Delphine: obviously her sex drive is high as hell, being what she is. It’s not as fun as it sounds though. Wanting to have sex and needing to are not the same thing. she can’t remember her first time, and there’s quite the sad backstory there that we won’t get into now. 😳 honestly, if she could stop needing to have sex to live, she would. sometimes she just wants to be held and loved for something other than her body.

Xa’eks/Xa’veed: high libido goddamn. They have a lot of restless and somewhat aggressive energy that needs to go somewhere. Their first time was when they were the Nion 8 equivalent of teenagers with another student at their military academy. It was their first and only actual relationship, though short lived since romance was discouraged among military students for fear of it distracting them. Their lover’s name is Moxim, and X hasn’t seen him since they landed on Earth (big place, ya know)

#ask: answered #ask: RO #spice spice baby #memento mori

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late-to-the-party-81 · 11 months

Text

In perfect balance

Request: For the Inspire Me! event, how about Tony/Reader/Stephen lounging around after a few rounds of hot sex? Some fluff, lots of snark, maybe leading into them all going at it again.

AN: Thank you @couldntbedamned for this spicy request, I hope this tickles your fancy!

Beta’d by @navybrat817

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard by me

Master list

Summary: From the outside the three of you shouldn’t work, but somehow, together, you’re in perfect balance.

Relationship: Tony Stark X Reader X Stephen Strange

Word Count: 2.6k

CW: Polyamorous relationship, Explicit sexual content (oral sex - M and F receiving, Anal fingering, Anal sex), Brat Tony Stark, Domme Reader, Dom Stephen Strange, Tony has Mommy and Daddy issues, slight Mommy kink, edging, multiple orgasms, aftercare, fluff and snark.

You flopped back on the pillows with a thud, a smile plastered to your sweat covered face as you stared up at the ceiling and inhaled the scent of roses that filled the room. You let the post orgasmic haze suffuse you as you half-listened to the affectionate bickering that was going on over your prone form. What was it about middle-aged, egotistical white men with goatees that made you go weak at the knees?

To be fair, they were allowed to have inflated egos - both were geniuses in their own way - extremely successful and powerful. However, this meant they were caught in a constant game of one-upmanship.

“I think you’ll find, Tony, that it’s what I did this time that tipped our Angel over the edge.”

“Pphhtt. As if. It was clearly what I was doing with my tongue. I’m very talented, you know.”

You stifled a giggle as you practically heard Stephen rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes, you’re super-talented and able to make women come with just a crook of your finger.”

There was the sound of someone shifting across bed sheets and you turned your head in time to see Tony bracing his body over Stephen’s, a gleam in his dark brown eyes.

“Not just women, my dear wizard. As you well know.”

Ice blue eyes glared back, although you could detect the hint of softness there too.

“Alright, you raving ego-maniac. But I still maintain it was my skills this time. And I’m a sorcerer, dammit, not a ‘wizard’.”

“Potay-to, potah-to.”

“Hhmmph.” Stephen gave Tony a light shove, and the self-styled playboy-genius-philanthropist allowed himself to be rolled to the side, landing right next to you.

It would come as a surprise to absolutely no-one that out of the two men, Tony was the more flamboyant in bed. He loved his gadgets and toys, and neither you or Stephen were going to complain about that. He often took the lead, not because either you or your sorcerer boyfriend were submissive, but because Tony was such an endearing brat that you couldn’t help but smile at the glee on his face when he bought one or other, or both, of you to earth-shattering orgasms.

He didn’t always get his way, though. You’d happily admit that some of your favourite times with the two were when Stephen was in A Mood ™, that special kind of mood where he felt the need to dominate and claim. Wong would have a fit if he knew what kind of things Stephen was using his powers for. You doubted that he’d approve of the Eye of Agamotto being used as an edging tool.

A shudder washed over your body as you remembered the last time that Stephen had come home, cape swirling, face stern, dragging you both into the bedroom without a word. Neither you or Tony had been able to walk properly for a good three days after - magic demon tentacles tended to have that effect.

Tony also had a soft spot from when you also helped take control of him. The man had so many Mommy and Daddy issues that he’d make Freud’s head spin. It had become apparent in a short space of time that his teasing of you was an attempt to make you snap, make you chastise and punish him.

However, if they weren’t competing and bickering about sex, they were competing about who spoiled you better. Both knew that roses were your favourite flower and if Stephen conjured some for you from the air, then Tony would spend weeks cultivating a new strain, naming it after you. Which was why this room was now full to the brim with different coloured and sized blooms.

“Come on, Angel-cake. Put us out of our misery - which one of us got you to O-town this time?”

As you’d mused, Tony had rested his head on your chest, and was now looking up at you with doe-eyes, while one finger trailed circles around one of your breasts, making your nipple pucker. You threaded your fingers into his thick hair, giving it a gentle tug that made his eye-lids flutter.

“Tones, you know the only answer I’m going to give you is that it was both of you. Keep me out of your juvenile tally game.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

You tapped him on the end of his nose.

“Brat!”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

“I never said that. Just reminding you that I know your game, Mister.”

“And what game would that be?” He raised his head slightly, but kept his eyes on you as he swiped his tongue over the nipple he’d been paying attention to. You arched your brow and tightened your grip in his hair, trying to ignore the zip of arousal that darted from your breast to your pussy.

“Stephen…” You called out to him and turned your head to see him coming out of the en-suite, washcloth in hand. He crossed to the bed and sat down next to you, virtually ignoring Tony as he dropped a kiss to your lips.

“What is it, my divine Angel?”

“Some-one is being a needy brat.”

Stephen allowed his gaze to drop to Tony, who started to squirm in your grip under the intense scrutiny.

“This does not surprise me in the slightest, my love. I don’t think our recent exertions were energetic enough for him. You know how restless he’s been.”

Thinking back over the last few days, you realised Stephen was right - Tony had been in his lab, tinkering, and while that was good exercise for the mind, it wasn’t for the body, and your engineering genius of a partner no doubt had a lot of physical energy to expend. He also probably wanted to have all the thinking taken away from him. He wouldn’t ask for it outright - he’d be too embarrassed, but he knew if he was bratty enough then either you or Stephen or both would understand and take control.

“Hhmmm. And would you be a good boy for us, Tones?”

“Well, that entirely depends on your definition of good.” Tony waggled his eyebrows and you and Stephen gave each other knowing looks, before Stephen addressed Tony.

“We’ll take that as a no. Come on. Up you get. Give Angel some space to work.”

You expected some chat back, but Tony leapt up like an exuberant puppy, standing at the foot of the bed. Stephen moved to stand behind him, wrapping his long arms around Tony’s frame. Tony held onto Stephen’s forearms and the both looked at you expectantly. You sat up and then moved onto your hands and knees, crawling down the bed until you were in front of them before coming up onto your knees. With one hand you cupped Tony’s face and with the other you cupped his cock, which was already trying to make its recovery known. You moved your face towards him, close enough that your breath fanned over his face.

“Are you going to listen, baby? Listen to me and Stephen? Or are you going to be naughty and have to be punished?”

“I thought we’d already established that - ow!” Tony let out a pained shout, his eyes going wide as you gave him a slap on the cheek.

“Try again, baby-boy.” Your voice was low and dark and you gave a firm squeeze with your other hand that made Tony rise up on his toes a bit. You saw Stephen’s icy eyes glimmer with amusement.

“I’ll be good, Mommy. I’ll be good.”

“Aaww. There he is. My good boy. Now, lie down for me, Tony. I wanna sit for a while.”

Tony scrambled out Stephen’s embrace and threw himself back on the bed, bouncing on it before scooting his body up the mattress and patting his cheeks.

“Your seat awaits, m’lady.”

You leant over him, biting down on his lower lip before turning and lowering your pussy over his face.

“I’m warning you now brat, that I’m not getting up until I’m satisfied.” In response Tony just shook his head, worming his tongue deeper between your folds before getting to work. You shifted slightly, and sighed as Tony started to drag wave after wave of pleasure out of you. At least he wasn’t fucking around with that.

The bed dipped and you met Stephen’s smile as he climbed up between Tony’s legs. His lips met yours as you balanced your weight by placing your hands on Tony’s hips. Stephen’s mouth was hot and demanding, sending further jolts of pleasure through you. The kiss was short-lived though, as Stephen pulled away so he could work his ‘magic’ on Tony.

He took Tony’s cock in hand, stroking it a few times to get it to full hardness, before sending a wink in your direction and swallowing Tony down. Tony moaned into your pussy and you rocked against his face to remind him what he was supposed to be doing.

“You don’t get to come until I say you can, Tony. You got that? So you gotta be good to me, baby.”

Tony’s hands roamed over the lower half of your body, digging into your hips and groping the soft flesh of your ass. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down, feasting on you with gusto. Little pants and moans left your lips and you and Stephen couldn’t help but exchange glances and smiles, silently conversing about how good Tony was being.

When Tony jolted under you, you realised that Stephen was breaching him with his long fingers. You knew how that felt and made a mental note to congratulate Tony later on his restraint. For now, you just decided to tease him. “Good boy, baby. Let Stephen in. Just enjoy it, but don’t come yet. I’m almost there. Keep doing that. Mmm… yes!”

Your orgasm was tantalisingly close and it wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge. Tony thrust his tongue as far into your pussy as he could and you rocked back and forth, stimulating your clit on the facial hair covering his chin, and then you were right there.

Trembling.

Crying out.

Covering Tony’s face in your release.

But you weren’t done yet. You tilted your hips and Tony got the message, shifting his ministrations to gently suck on your engorged bundle of nerves.

However, he seemed to be losing focus, because after a few moments he stopped sucking. You could feel his fingers tensing, digging into your skin and you realised he was close to coming. You reached out, wrapping your fingers in Stephen’s grey streaked hair to get his attention. He sometimes got a little lost when giving oral.

“Slow down, love.”

Stephen let Tony’s cock fall from his mouth and stilled his hand. His lips were red, and smeared with saliva and pre-come, and he’d never looked so wonderfully debauched. You leaned down and gave him a kiss, squeaking into his mouth as Tony came out of his near-orgasmic stupor and started to work you over again. You continued to kiss Stephen as you ground onto Tony’s face, reaching your second orgasm. Feeling wrung out, you rolled off Tony.

He sat up, hair sticking up, face wet and red and you giggled at the state of him, but no sooner had you done so, Stephen went back to his task of opening Tony up.

“Legs apart, Tony.”

Tony just whimpered, and did what he was told, nodding his head and fisting the sheets.

With the click of the lube cap, Stephen perfunctorily prepped him, working two, then three fingers into him. You watched with a hazy gaze, enjoying your front row seat. A whine came from Tony’s lips as Stephen pulled his fingers free and swatted at Tony’s flank.

“Up, brat. If you have energy to burn, and you want to cum, then you can fuck yourself on my cock.”

The two men quickly changed places, Stephen lying down and Tony climbing atop him. You passed Tony the bottle of lube and he applied a liberal coating to Stephen, a sparkle in his eye. He was about to ease himself into position when you gripped his chin between your thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t stop being a good boy, now. Make Stephen cum first.”

Tony didn’t say anything, but he pouted, and you pulled his lower lip into your mouth, sucking on it hard, before letting it go with an audible pop. Placing your hands on his waist, you helped to steady him as he sank down onto Stephen’s cock, his mouth hanging open and his eyes rolling back.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” You poured your praises into his ear, watching him relax as you did, until his ass became flush with Stephen’s thighs. Moving carefully, you shifted your position until you were behind Tony, able to wrap your arms around him peer over his shoulder if you so wished. With his own hands braced on Stephen's chest, he started to move, slowly at first, so he could feel Stephen’s cock rubbing over every nerve-ending within him, but he slowly picked up speed.

Stephen moaned and closed his eyes, his hands searching out Tony’s hips, either to provide an anchor for himself or to help Tony move - you weren’t sure which.

“Oh! That’s it, Tony. Fuck, you feel so good. Keep doing that.”

Tony bit his lip and continued to move. From over his shoulder you watched his aching cock bob lewdly. It looked angry and red, leaking copious amounts of pre-cum with each downwards movement. You even realised he was whimpering.

You trailed your hands down his chest, teasing his dark nipples up into stiff peaks, flicking and pinching them, almost cruelly. You knew he was close, but where would the fun be if you didn’t make it at least a bit difficult for him to follow your rules.

“Stephen! Angel! I’m so close.”

“Hold it, baby. Get Stephen there first. You can do it.”

You saw tears start to run down Tony’s face as he battled the sensations threatening to overwhelm him. You kissed some of them away before looking down at your other boyfriend.

Stephen’s face was almost similarly contorted, although without the tears. His eyes were screwed shut and you could see the veins pulsing in his neck, and the way his fingers curled viciously into Tony’s hips. There would no doubt be bruises left by them that Tony would wear with pride for the next week.

“Tony! Yes! I - I’m cumming!”

Stephen’s body went taut and as he spilt into Tony you wrapped your fingers around Tony’s desperate cock.

Tony let out a strangled cry as you pumped him, once, twice and then he was spilling over your hand and Stephen’s chest. He sobbed his way through his pleasure, movements almost frenzied in the way he dragged every ounce of pleasure he could from Stephen’s now flagging cock and your hand.

Finally he collapsed over Stephen, body limp. His eyes were closed and he dragged in breath after ragged breath. Stephen threaded his fingers through Tony’s hair, gently petting him, his own eyes closed as he also recovered.

You quickly got off the bed, crossing to the bathroom to wash yourself up and grab a couple more washcloths. On your return you found that in the minute you’d been gone, Stephen had managed to extricate himself from the warm clutch of Tony’s body and rolled both of them on their sides, Tony’s face still nuzzled into his neck.

Stephen took one of the washcloths from you, and wiped his chest and cock clean, while you used the other one to freshen Tony up. He wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t fully awake either, caught in that nebulous, soft place that can only be reached by an earth-shattering orgasm.

With all of you clean enough for now, you climbed back onto the bed, pulling the counterpane up to cover your three forms as you curled up behind Tony, hooking an arm and leg over him.

You could all do with a small nap after that, and you had no doubt that upon waking properly Tony would be back to his teasing, almost insufferable self. For now, though, the perfect balance of your unusual trio had helped him find the release he needed. Next time it might be you or Stephen’s turn, but no matter what form your collective loving took, it was always just what you all wanted.

The three of you lapsed into slumber, the scent of roses still clinging to the air.

Tag list: @darsynia @xoxoviva @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @goldylions @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @mrsmischief209

#Tony Stark x Reader x Stephen Strange #StrangeIron x Reader #fic request #late writes #polyamory #Tony Stark x Reader #Stephen Strange x Reader #Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

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checkoutmybookshelf · 3 months

Text

Sometimes the Adaptation is the Book, Actually...

So, as I'm sure more than a few of you did, I enjoyed the heck out of Jill Bearup's fantasy heroin YouTube shorts series. And as I'm sure many of us have experienced, YouTuber books can be...distinctly hit-or-miss in terms of quality. So when Bearup announced that she was adapting the shorts series into an actual book, I was willing to give it a shot when it came out. So in Bearup's own tier list terms, I'd give this book a pretty good. Strong concept, a lot to like...but the TYPESETTING, my god. Let's talk Just Stab Me Now.

This is your spoiler warning for a book that has been EXTREMELY hyped on YouTube, and one who's story has already been told on YouTube. Here there be Spoilers.

So normally I like to start with the things I like about a book, but since I liked so much about this book and the one thing that I didn't like could have stopped me cold, we're going to start with the one thing that I think was actually bad. The typesetting.

To be clear: Bearup was extremely clear that using different fonts and margins to delineate between Caroline's world, the fantasy world, and Caroline's mind where she interacts with the fantasy characters was a considered, intentional choice. That's valid, and there is nothing inherently wrong with making that choice. It's also well done in the book, like it's consistent and well put together.

That said: Oh my god you guys, I hated it. It took me the first fifty-odd pages to get used to it, and even then, it AGGRESSIVELY snapped my editor brain's bra strap. I seriously considered putting the book down because of the typesetting, which would have been a crying shame because I really enjoyed the book overall. This might not bother some readers, but it was nearly a dealbreaker for me, so I wanted to mention it as a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing.

Other than that though, I think this book did a pretty solid job of adapting the fantasy heroine shorts into a full-blown novel.

Caroline Lindley is very much helicopter parenting her fictional characters, and the fact that they are by turns bemused and cranky about this is very fun throughout the novel. I also like that we get a lot more of Caroline in the novel than we did in the shorts series. Her story was just as compelling as Rosamund and Leo's, and I quite enjoyed having the extraordinarily modern cybersecurity subplot to balance the fantasy setting as well. I wasn't expecting that to work as well as it did, but thematically it resonated quite well, and I like the acknowledgement that while we don't use swords and political marriages so much these days, it's not like we've STOPPED having enemies and needing to protect ourselves, our homes, and our families. The relationship between modernity and "no particular historical era" in terms of thematic connections was really well done.

The general added depth to all the characters was also excellent, since we had time and space for characterization that the shorts series had to skim over for time. We really felt Rosamund's grief in the book, Leo had way more personality (and I loved that) and some of the plot stuff was smoothed and fleshed out in some really interesting ways. The caladrius was actually an inspired touch, and it tied together a bunch of slightly odd things in the series in a really elegant way. It also gave Baron Mabry and George an interesting parallel too, since they were both screwing over people for financial gain. The methods might be different, but the heart of the crimes and the harm they do are fairly universal.

As a writer, I also ADORED the conceit of Caroline being absolutely out of control in her process. She was trying SO HARD to write a standard enemies-to-lovers romantasy and literally nothing could get her plot or characters there. Every writer has been there, every writer has had little breakdowns over the story just not freaking doing what you tell it to, and there was something deeply vindicating about it. I loved the personification of the writing process.

This book also had a little bit of that Princess Bride feel where it is both a send-up of romance tropes and a deeply respectful nod to them. I don't know that pastiche is the right word here, but neither does parody seem to be, and I think we need a word for this writing mood, where you're both deconstructing and reiterating a series of tropes. I don't have a word for it, but this is a thing that pops up periodically (periodic because it's genuinely hard to do well; lean too far to one side or the other and it flops catastrophically) and we should name it.

Overall, for a book from a YouTuber--especially one who rather famously discovered halfway through the process that she does not enjoy writing fiction--I was pleasantly surprised by this book, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Bearup has told us not to expect a sequel, so I won't...but if one materialized in the future, I'd read it!

#just stab me now #jill bearup #books and reading #books #books and novels #books & libraries #book recommendations

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theglamorousferal · 9 months

Text

The Halfa King and His Court

So this is a fic that I started at the beginning of the pandemic that I kinda just hit a block with. I really like it as a starting point, but I’m not sure what else to do with it. I had a sort of bullet point outline but it seemed more like I was just tossing in every different DP fic plot line all together so it wasn’t going to make much sense. I was going to have there be a field trip into the GZ where the Trio judge whether the a-listers and Val have changed enough to have them join in with Team Phantom, there was going to be a reveal to his parents of him and then later on after Plasmius had been helping out then Vlad as well. It was gonna be this whole thing, but anyway. I’m not sure if I will continue this, so feel free to add your own spin on it or take it for adoption, I’m not sure how to do that exactly.

*****

“No.” Danny said, in a tone that rang with finality and a general sense of “I am so done with this whole situation.”

“Danny, I know this is hard to believe, but technically by the laws of the Ghost Zone Frostbite gave to you-” Sam started, only to get cut off by Danny's glare. She sighed. “Seriously Danny, it says right here in the text he gave you.” Sam shoved the scroll at Danny who scoffed and passed it off to Tucker.

“Oh man Danny, do you know what we could do with this? The new laws you could put in place?” Tucker laughed as he read what was written.

“The protections you could put in place for Amity and the Earth?” Sam hinted at poking Danny in the shoulder. Danny sighed.

“Guys, I get it, I could use this to my advantage, but there's so much more responsibility to go with it. I'd have to take over the general affairs from the Observants and Walker, though I guess Walker would have to do what I say wouldn't he.” Danny seemed to think about it.

“Let's say I did do this, what would I do? I don't have time to take care of the whole Ghost Zone! I'd need to pick advisers and establish some sort of method for figuring out small disputes, some way of checks and balances. Guys, you know I'm failing History and Government, and this is basically saying that I'd get complete control over the Ghost Zone and have to set-up an entirely new system!” He gripped his hair in frustration and panic. And it caused his friends to sit and think some solutions through.

“Well,” Sam began, “you could start with getting a few people you know that do know about this kind of stuff together and getting their opinion about it. Frostbite, Dora, Clockwork, Pandora, maybe Ghostwriter from what we know of his library and... maybe... Vlad?” she added the last person hesitantly. Danny shot a look at her of surprise and confusion, dropping his hands from his hair to his lap.

“Vlad? Why the hell would I ask him for anything?” He was honestly baffled as to why she would bring him up.

“Besides the fact that he has more knowledge of modern government compared to the others I listed, I think he would relish the idea of being able to mentor you at something.”She paused to consider something. “He seems to have calmed down a bit after his last scheme almost got your mom killed instead of your dad. He almost seems to realize now that your mom is completely dedicated to your dad and finds him a bit creepy. I mean, last time he was over, he actually asked Jazz some stuff right? Doesn't he usually ignore her completely?”

“Crazy-man acting less crazy?” Tucker snorted. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

Danny thought about it for a second and realized that Sam was right, he hadn't needed to fight the Fruit-loop since his last scheme put his mom in the hospital. She was fine, just had a concussion and a fractured leg, but it still had shaken him. In fact, Danny hadn't seen any sign of Vlad as either Masters or Plasmius since the incident except for when he visited when Mom first got out of the hospital.

“Yeah, maybe you're right, I should go and pay Uncle Vladdie a visit.” Danny stood and paused. “Should I bring the scroll with me to show him as proof? I doubt he'd believe me if I just told him.”

“Yeah, probably should. It's not anything that he can modify to fit his own needs anyway, just a list of laws.” Sam rolled it up and handed it to him. “Want either of us to come with?” She offered.

“Nah, I should be good to visit the cheese-head on my own. You guys mind covering for me until I get back?” They were supposed to be having a study-sleepover at Sam's.

“Sure thing, we’ll just cover our electives while you’re gone and tell my parents you went to get pizza.” Sam fished out some cash and handed it to Danny. “Actually, while you’re out can you grab some?”

“Sure, the usual?” Danny put the scroll and the money in his pocket.

“Yup, a large all veggie vegan cheese for me.”

“And a large extra meaty supreme for me!”

Danny laughed, “and a large extra cheese for me. I’ll place the order as I’m leaving Vlad’s. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With that he transformed and took off through the ceiling.

Tucker turned to Sam. “Do you really think going to Mayor wack-job is a good idea?”

Sam sighed. “Tucker, you weren’t there that day, the look on his face when he saw Mrs. Fenton take the hit instead of Mr. Fenton…” Sam looked away thinking. “He looked devastated, and not just in the ‘the love of my life will never love me’ way but more in the ‘my actions are hurting those I love’ way. He looked like he realized that if he continued the way he was going that he might just accidentally kill either Mrs. Fenton or Danny and I think that would hurt him more than anything.”

#danny phantom #fanfic #danny fenton #dp #ghost king danny #ghost king au #Vlad masters #Sam Manson #tucker foley #Vlad redemption #fic for adoption #or for continuation #writing wip #WIP

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razorblade180 · 11 months

Text

Mind at work

[teapot]

Aether:*stares at Abyss Domain list*…

Kokomi:Trying to figure out a strategy? We did manage to reach the bottom, though I’ll admit are performance was somewhat lacking.

Aether:It’s no one’s fault. You did exactly what you were supposed to. It’s just weird. Our group is pretty big and aren’t exactly slackers. I feel like I’m overlooking something.

Kokomi:For the most part, foes want to get personal so grouping isn’t a problem. I do feel as if something is amiss. *stares at second half* Is there really no team naturally fitted for this.

Aether and Kokomi:Hmmm….!?

Kokomi:Aether?

Aether:Yeah I see it.

xxxxx

Bennett:It’s been awhile since the for of us hung out. I missed you guys!

Xingqui:The feeling is mutual. Though I wish it was for calmer circumstances.

Xiangling:I’m just glad it’s finally over. Never thought I’d be this rusty. *slouches* how many did we get?

Chongyun:*sitting on boss* if I counted correctly, thirty two. That’s progress.

Bennett:Free cheers for a good run. Hip hip-

CXXB:Hooray!

xxxxxx

Aether:I can live in peace now.

Kokomi:I can’t. We’re one star short of another bonus.

Aether:Let it go~ *lays down* this is already better than I hoped.

Kokomi:*looking at list* Technically speaking…do we really need to send a crowd controller when the majority of the foes want to run at people? What if for the first half we asked someone who’s just really strong and willing to face immense danger the majority of the run.

Aether:(I should really help Itto’s development more often. Only other person who might fit that description is-) *sits up* I can call some people. It won’t matter though if second half is too slow. Too bad electro teams aren’t that good on that half.

Kokomi:*scratches head* What a weird group of enemies. Me helping Miko would’ve been perfect along side Nahida and Dehya. We could ask Yoimiya again?

Aether:Do you think she’ll survive?

Kokomi:*sighs* I’m good but I’m not good. The group falls apart with consistent power, but lots of our heavy hitters bruise easily or aren’t suited well enough for a full manageable run. We need balance.

Aether:Who doesn’t care at all about the Thunder Manifestation besides Yoi-….*zips down the hall*

Kokomi:I guess he found the answer.

Aether:*opens door* Hey, wanna go to floor 12?

Yanfei:Where’s Yoimiya!?

Aether:You have a shield and are all pyro attacks.

Yanfei:…Is Kokomi coming?

Kokomi:*yells* Yes!

Yanfei:I’ll do my best.

xxxxx

Consecrated beasts: *unconscious*

Scara:*sitting on one*….

Zhongli:What’s he doing?

Diona:Judging if this went well or not. It’s kinda his way criticizing.

Faruzan:Hmph, the lad is just incapable of actually giving a decent compliment; even after doing so much for him! At best he’ll say “well it looks like you actually can do something.” Ugh, it drives me mad.

Scara:*turns around* ….. *thumbs up*

Zhongli:Looks like he’s satisfied.

FD: (Genuine praise!? What’s gotten into him!?)

Scara, secretly stressed: (That’s it, just play it cool and act like I didn’t almost get mauled to death.)

Meanwhile on the other half…

Baptist: *full nelson* LET ME GO!

Dehya:Don’t feel like. Yanfei!

Yanfei:You sure? *holds fireball*

Kokomi:It’ll be fine. *makes fish*

Nahida:She can take it. *closes one eye* Ready…aim….

Baptist:Nooooooooo!

xxxxx

34 stars

Kokomi:…Y’know-

Everyone:We can’t!

Kokomi:Alright, hit the showers.

#genshin impact #gi aether #xiangling #sangonomiya kokomi #chongyun #xingqui #gi bennett #scaramouche #nahida #yanfei #gi dehya #gi zhongli #faruzan #gi diona

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

Hello, do you remember the offering of bones? * hold lamp in your face* Yes you were offered bones for a bad ass Horangi kicking Krüger ass. *slams hands on table* and König was proud of his tiny boyfriend *trows papers on table dramatically*

I actually had yours in the drafts because i started it but like always you understood the goddamn assignment Hiriko so I’m using the new ask instead ☺️

Horangi was... Horangi. Always would be.

On the sparring mat, he and Koenig were evenly matched. It usually depended on if Koenig could catch him. Once Koenig had him, he could pin him down and thanks to his size, Horangi had a difficult time taking control of the situation. On the flip size, Horangi was fast and as long as Koenig couldn't grab him, he could knock him down.

Seeing Krueger rather quickly pin Koenig down made something mean bubble in Horangi's chest. Horangi was competitive by nature. Being one of the few people that could take Koenig down was a point of pride. And this bastard. A few other members of KorTac congratulated him, impressed. Impressed by that bastard.

So Horangi watched him spar a couple more times, paying attention to how he fought. He planned. This wasn't Koenig who he wanted to improve his skills with. They would regularly try new tactics and work to improve. If one got better, the other did. But with Krueger? His only fucking goal was winning.

"Hey Krueger." Horangi said cheerfully. "Want to spar with me?"

Krueger looked down at him. He couldn't see his eyes since he still wore his full sniper hood while Horangi was substantially more casual. He had a black neck gaiter instead of his normal full mask, short sleeved shirt so the scarring down his arms were visible and shorts. Maybe, just maybe, he had purposely made himself look less threatening. It worked.

Krueger tilted his head. "Are you sure?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice and Horangi knew that regardless of what happened, he was going to win. If he had to kill himself to do it, he would.

"Positive! I need to improve my skills against opponents my size," Krueger's face scrunched enough the mask moved at that comment, as if the two inches separating them in height was a huge difference, "and you seem rather skilled."

"If you insist." Krueger walked with him to the mat.

Koenig stopped lifting weights, actually putting them away to go watch them instead. His interest meant Horangi had just another reason in a long list on why he had to win.

They stalked around the center, eyeing each other. Krueger struck out first, managing to strike his stomach and sending Horangi quickly stepping back. His eyes widened and he quickly stepped back. Krueger immediately lunged again but Horangi dodged this time. He started to lead him around, trying to get him to strike out more. Like a stupid fucking fish.

Horangi used his speed to his advantage. Krueger focused on trying to knock him down but he couldn't get close enough.

With no warning, Horangi slammed all of his weight directly into his chest. It was a risky maneuver since it put him in arm's length, but fuck that. The satisfying sound he made as he hit the ground let Horangi know it was worth it.

He quickly retreated, leaving Krueger to swipe at thin air. They traded blows, Horangi aiming for his chest and shoulders while Krueger seemed determined to hit his fucking kidneys.

Horangi leaned forward. "Koenig is watching. Can't wait to wipe the floor with you."

Krueger stared at him and flew at him again. They both hit and dodged around each other, neither able to get much of a blow in until Krueger sent Horangi reeling with a well calculated blow. He lunged at him but Horangi hooked his foot around his leg and knocked him off balance, sending them both tumbling.

Horangi slammed his knee into his chest and then pinned him. He took a deep breath and started counting when Krueger managed to throw him off, rolling them. It wouldn't work on the battlefield where weapons were involved, but it did work here.

Horangi wrapped his thighs around his head and pinned him down, watching him claw at him. Krueger's feet kicked but he couldn't get at him.

"1"

"Dirty fucking move."

"2"

"Barely even got a hit on me."

"3. Now, don't be a sore loser." Horangi kicked him off and got up, exiting the ring.

Koenig immediately grabbed his hands, inspecting them as if Horangi hadn't bandaged them properly. "That was amazing!" He sounded so giddy, eyes full of pride. "I've never seen you fight like that."

Horangi smiled. "Wanted to try a new strategy! I didn't think it would work on you." He pulled his mask down to drink and noticed Koenig's eyes following him. Koenig glanced around and when he saw a bunch of people looking, he changed his mind about whatever it was.

"You really looked amazing out there. You so rarely fight other people, I forgot how lethal you look." He sounded shy and Horangi's heart started to stutter.

Stepping a bit closer, he put Koenig's hood over his head so they were both hiding in it.

"Thank you, yeobo."

Koenig's face was bright red, as it always was when Horangi acted like this in public, but he smiled immediately. He kissed his cheek softly. "I can see why you were named Tiger."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x horangi #horangi #horangi call of duty #horangi cod #cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #mw2 #könig mw2 #modern warfare ii #cod krueger

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