#I’ve now watched both rear window and rope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexalily · 2 years

Text

unfinished Voidstrike Organized Crime AU fic

I started this ages ago and really like the ideas here but have finally admitted to myself that I’m never actually going to finish this. Wraith and Bangalore are cleaners for some kind of organized crime family and are perhaps more than co-workers.

"Come on Aiden, watch your head." Bangalore put a hand on the back of the man's head and pushed him down into the backseat of her car. Once he was in, she slammed the door shut behind him, rolled her eyes, and got in the driver's seat. She stuck the keys in the ignition and got the engine started. She glanced up into the rear view mirror and caught sight of Wraith as she closed the car's trunk and came around to the passenger's side.

"We good to go?" Bangalore asked once Wraith got buckled in.

"Yeah, all good." Wraith replied.

"Wait!" The man in the backseat cried out. Both women turned around and looked at him through the gap between the front seats. He opened his mouth to speak but froze when Wraith put a hand up.

"I know what you're thinking, Aiden. 'Maybe if I plead my case they'll let me go' or 'maybe if I compliment them on how beautiful they're looking today, they'll hear me out'" She paused to watch his face for a moment. She could tell that he had cooked up some line like that. They always did.

"Well, we won't do anything like that." Wraith continued. "We've got a job to do and, unlike you, we aren't going to fuck this up. So sit there and do us all a favor and shut up." She opened up the glovebox and pulled put a ballgag. "Otherwise we'll have to use this and I don't think any of us want that."

Aiden didn't say anything but he didn't look as deterred as Wraith had hoped.

"Alternatively, I can knock a few teeth out." Banglore said. "But I'd really rather not because I don't want you bleeding all over my back seat."

Aiden slumped down in his seat, defeated. He twisted the ropes that bound his wrists together, more out of discomfort than any actual attempt to get free.

"Good choice." Both women turned back around and Bangalore put the car into drive. The trio rode in silence for a few minutes before Banglore glanced over at her partner. They didn't usually talk much during jobs like these but Wraith still seemed unusually quiet. When she stopped the car at a red light, Bangalore spoke up.

"Something on your mind?"

"I-" Aiden tried to speak up.

"Not you" both women answered in unison.

"Lately I've been thinking... about the future." Wraith said after a long pause. She kept her gaze locked out the window at the pedestrians that were waiting for the crosswalk signal to change.

"Yeah?" Bangalore didn't like the sound of Wraith's voice. She sounded... done. She usually had a quiet confidence in her voice. Most people couldn't hear it. It had taken Bangalore a while but they'd been working together for so long that it was hard for not to hear it now. But in this moment it was gone.

"It's just... I was thinking about cashing out. Packing up and buying a lttle place out in the middle of nowhere."

Bangalore closed her eyes and muttered a 'god dammit' under her breath. She tapped the steering wheel while she thought about what to say.

"Green." Came a meek voice from the back seat. Bangalore glanced at the traffic light, then at Aiden in the rearview mirror, frowned, and gently pushed on the gas. Bangalore knew what she had to say but it took her another half a block to work up the nerve to actually say it.

"Wraith. You know better than that. We don’t get that. Not in our line of work." Wraith was the one to let out an exasperated sigh this time.

"How long have we been doing this, Bang? Fifteen fucking years." She paused to let the number sink it. They’d been cleaners for a long time now and they both knew it. A lot of blood on their hands. A lot of problems solved for a lot of people. "That's longer than anyone else who's worked for the boss, right? I figure that's gotta be worth something."

"Don't be so naive, Wraith. People like us don't get 'retirement', we know about way too many skeletons in way too many closets. And-"

"Yeah and those skeletons are in my closet too! I wouldn't rat anybody out because I'd go down too!" Wraith finally looked back over to Bangalore who glanced over at her before putting her eyes back on the road.

"Don't say that shit, Wraith. You know that isn't how this works!" Bangalore pounded a hand on the steering wheel for emphasis. "You can't just leave. They'll consider you a risk! You wanna buy a farm upstate? The boss'll help you buy a farm! A fucking bullet to the brain for your down payment!"

"Whatever." Wraith looked back out the window at the various office buildings they passed by.

"Just... don't say that shit to anyone else. You can trust me but..." Bangalore gestured vaguely instead of finishing the thought. She didn't need to finish it because they both knew she was right. If Wraith talked like that to anyone else in the family, she'd be in hot water before the day was over.

After that the drive was enveloped by an awkward silence. They both knew that Bangalore was right and that neither of them wanted her to be right. So it was easier to drop it and stay focused on the job at hand instead. They made their way past all the office buildings and storefronts to the industrial district and Bangalore eventually pulled them up to a loading dock around the back of a non-descript warehouse nestled amongst a dozen other non-descript warehouses.

"Alright, Aiden, welcome to your new home." Bangalore said as she put the car into park. She gave a little wave to a pair of very unfriendly looking men that rolled open the door on the loading dock nearest to the car. Bangalore got out first, walked over to the men, shook hands with one of them and started to talk with them a bit. Wraith opened up the door for Aiden and pulled him out of the back seat. She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him in close.

"My advice is to just cooperate with them. You cost the boss a <i>lot</i> of money and she wants it back. Give her what she wants and it'll be over quick." She kept a firm hand on his shoulder as she walked Aiden over to the others. They handed him over to the taller and stronger of the two men and chatted with the other man for a few minutes. He was a fan of the same football team as Bangalore and since Wraith never watched sports, it was one of Bang's few opportunities to bemoan terrible management decisions during work hours. After they finished griping about a terrible trade, Bangalore and Wraith got back in the car. Bangalore paused for a moment before she got going again.

"I don't want to ever have to drop you off here, okay? They do terrible shit here and..." she sighed. "And I wouldn't want that for you." she finished softly. She and Wraith made eye contact for a moment but Wraith quickly broke it.

"Yeah, okay, I get it." said quietly.

Bangalore wasn't confident that she really did get it but she dropped it anyway. She drove Wraith back to her apartment and dropped her off. Their work was done for the day.

-----

A few days later, Bangalore got called in for two more jobs. So, early one morning, she pulled up outside of Wraith's apartment and mere moments after her car rolled to a halt, the door was open and Wraith climbed in.

"Hey. They gave you all the details, right?" Bangalore asked as Wraith buckled herself in.

"Yeah, they said you've already got her?"

-anita picks up wraith. says she already picked up the woman, they just have to get rid of her now -wraith asks if she can stop to get breakfast. anita agrees, takes her to her fav place. thinks about going in with her but doesn't. knows she should have because of what her job is today. but wraith comes back even though anita assumes she knows what's going on --wraith got herself some fancy tea and a pastry and got a coffee for anita without even having to ask about it -'it's gonna be a longer drive, we gotta go a ways out of town' --long pondering drive. anita is nervous/uneasy and thinks the plan is a bad idea. wraith is practically asleep/unaware -eventually reach an abandoned gas station way outside of town -anita pulls a bag out of the backseat and tosses it to wraith. it has a change of clothes in it. anita tells wraith to get changed and that there's a set of keys in one pocket. -anita isn't going to kill wraith like she's been told to, she's got a plan to get her out instead. --she also is supposed to get rid of a woman who turned out to be a snitch/spy for a rival family. luckily, she's same height/build/hair color as wraith. so she'll bash the face in until she's unrecognizable and say that wraith got too rowdy ---for part of this plan, anita tells wraith to punch her to make it look like they really had a fight. wraith sucker punchers her in the gut. "no you asshole" and then wraith punches her in the face. anita almost reflexively hits back but doesn't --has a car prepared in the gas station's garage for wraith to get out of here --says there's a bag of cash in the trunk with notes for a dead drop in a week where she'll bring more --asks wraith if there's anything in her apartment she wants because she has to go toss it in case she was hiding anything or whatever --wraith is surprised that anita is taking this big a risk --anita says the risk is worth it to keep wraith alive/safe -after they prep the dead body and put it back in anita's trunk, they have one last talk. anita says she's been told to toss wraith's apartment and asks if there's anything special she wants her to keep/bring out to her. wraith says she wants ???. they agree to meet back here a week later -when they meet back up, anita gives wraith the stuff. wraith says she's not so sure about leaving without anita. -i don't know how to end this

I had considered another scene in the middle here where they meet their boss (Loba) and she does some fun menacing to let them know that she heard about Wraith’s desire to get out and to try and convince her to stay (without anyone every actually talking about it directly, of course). But I decided it’d be weird to go straight from that to “Anita’s been asked to kill Wraith” and couldn’t think of something good to fit between them.

#apex legends #voidstrike #fanfic #fic ideas free to a good home

6 notes · View notes

myluciddreamer · 2 years

Photo

Dreams of Talent

Adventures at 2am are always a toss up. Yet here I am wandering the dark streets of the city, polishing off what remains of a cone of ice cream. The street lights flicker with both safety and warning, “come here where you can see everything easier but everything can also see you”. I decline and stick with the path less lit. I’d prefer not to draw unneeded attention to myself. My wanderings have brought me to an unexpected yet familiar place; the local car wash. I stand out of the lights that are shining from inside the huge open-walled structure. What could possibly be going on to keep it open this late? Curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself standing in the doorway popping the last bit of cone into my mouth.. There are four others inside; two men and two women; smoking, drinking, playing music, and flirting with each other. A deck of cards scatter the top of a box that was flipped upside down as a make-shift table. If they notice my presence they don’t acknowledge it or seem to mind. As I watch their flirtings I notice lights flashing through the other window; a cop car has pulled up, probably responding to a noise complaint (not that their music was actually loud) A female officer steps out of the vehicle; blonde, strong looking, it’s clear at first glance that she’s been at this a while. As she strolls up the two girls flee, pushing past me. It’s only then that I recognize them as prostitutes. I watch the two men move in a panic as they snuff out their smokes and try to hide all their booze. The female officer calls out to them with a strong assertive voice and they immediately seem to understand the gig is up. I watch as they approach her with caution, hands in the air despite no gun having been pulled. Amused, I move into the building to get a better look. She is speaking to softly for me to hear but her body language seems to show that she isn’t angry and just letting them off with a warning. Yet she grips her handcuffs? Suddenly the two men turn around facing my general direction and the female officer follows their gaze. They’re all staring at me… and I stare right back. Looks like they want me to come over. I slowly and cautiously approach and the officer slips the cuffs on behind me. Now I’m confused, “What did I do?”

“Nothing. This is just a safety precaution” the officer states, locking the cuffs in place.Before I can protest further she continues, “You folks with powers can always be tricky to deal with. These cuffs are just meant to suppress them”.

Before she can lock the second cuff on my right wrist I bring my arms in front of me, “So what about those guys? You’re not going to cuff them?”

She gives me an irritated sigh but move in front of me to finish locking the cuffs. “Not that it’s any of your business but those two don’t have any talent. You on the other hand…:”

I ponder her words as she helps me into the back seat of the car. I don’t recall ever having any powers of any sort. I think I’d know if I had any. But maybe I can mess with her a bit. As she drives through the town I notice a huge rain cloud up ahead. “So uh… powers… what makes you think -I- have any?”

She gives another irritated sigh, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. “Look, I’ve been at this a long time. I’ve learned how to identify you folks, ok?”

“I get that but … these cuffs are supposed to limit them, the powers I mean, right?” I hold up my wrists to show her the cuffs.

She gives me a suspicious look, “I… yes”.

I point my cuffed hands towards the rainstorm, “So what if I did THIS? Theoretically it shouldn’t work”. I make a pulling motion as if I’m grabbing a rope with my two cuffed hands and yanking the storm forward. Much to my surprise a sparkling green orb surrounds the car which is now screeching to a halt. The orb I engulfed us in pulses and sparks with power before sliding past us and shooting off into the direction of the storm cloud. I watch in amazement as it is engulfed into the cloud and green lightning sputters out from various places. I glance nervously at the officer who is staring wide-eyed at me. She reaches a shakey hand for her radio before screaming into it for back up, “ … I repeat I have in my custody a woman with danger-level ‘Talent’ even with suppression cuffs on. Requesting back up immediately!”

Now I’m beginning to freak out. It’s clear my prank ended up as an unintentional display of power. I apologize, trying to explain that I had no idea something would ACTUALLY happen when *clink* the chain on the handcuffs break leaving me with rather loose fitting metal bracelets. I see her fumbling for her gun and take that as my cue to get the hell out. The car door opening almost a little too easily although I knew I had just ripped it from it’s locks and hinges. Just how strong was I? I sprint down on of the near by alleys as I hear bullets shoot past me. Either she’s a terrible shot or the bullets are bouncing off me, I wasn’t entirely sure. I rip the remains of the cuffs off my wrists as I round a corner when I run head first into a group of three people. They look at first glace to be beggars but something was off that I couldn’t quiet place. One of them speaks out. “The green lightning…. was that you?”

“I… I uh…” I wasn’t sure what to say.

I see them looking past me at where the cuffs l lay, the flashing lights from more cop cars pulling onto the scene reflecting off the walls. I see them share a worried look with each other. “I think the answer is clear. Lets skip the formalities and just go” the others nod in agreement. All three rip off their outfits, what was once beggar clothing now looking like randomly discarded trash in the nearby bins. They all had very distinct looks to them. One of them, a man about my height had spiky purple hair, his eyes and what looked like tattoos were glowing with a similar purple hue. He grabbed me by the arm and ushered me down into a rather well hidden concrete bunker-looking area around the corner. The other two followed, one a woman with neon yellow hair with similarly colored glowing eyes and the other a man with similar features but glowing lime-green.They all quietly introduce each other before falling silent. The shuffling of officer boots on the ground above us can be heard but then pass. It would seem as if they cant find us.

A quick look around the area gave me a good idea of who and what these people are. The ‘Talented’, people with powers as the female officer from before explained. And it looks like this is one of their hideouts, a safe place from the world above so to say. My strike of green lightning in the storm cloud prompted them to come out looking for me, figuring yet another newly awakened Talented was on the run from the police once again. They couldn’t have been more correct. After explaining the situation to the three of them they stared in awe that I was able to conjure up such a powerful orb WHILE wearing suppressing cuffs. The purple-haired man wanted to test the limits of my power but the others urged that now is not the best time if at all.

What felt like a day must have passed but I had fallen asleep and woken up to see the sky just as dark and stormy as when I fell asleep. I woke up to see the bunker much better lit, the lights on and computer screen displayed on thin air. The other woman in the group had a look of concern. The police had found us after all. Somehow it was the doing of that female office that had originally found me. I mentioned to them how she herself said that she could kind of… “just tell” if someone had power. This made them curious… “she might be an Oracle and not even know it” said the lime-green guy.

“How would we know?” I asked

“We have a test for things like that. The government used to use these machines to test if people had “Talent”, we use those machines now since they’ve been long abandoned. Stupid government officials didn’t know how to use them properly. Thought they didn’t work.” the yellow woman explained. “If we lure her in here we can run the machines to test her…”

It was a good plan. Through negotiation we managed to get her into the building willingly to test herself and as predicted she indeed was an Oracle. As time went on we found more and more people with Talents. A part of me questioned the loyalty of our new Oracle but she was certainly bringing in a huge influx of new faces and all with extremely great Talents almost daily. By the time our group had reached about 14 or so people I was woken up.

#dreams of #lucid dreams #lucid dreamer #last night i dreamt #dreams of talent #my lucid dreams #i dreamt #dream journal

0 notes

silverdelirium · 3 years

Note

Can I request a very filthy smutty blaise with ass kink and size kink? 🥺

MESSY OFFICE | B.Z

SUMMARY ➠ coworker!blaise teaches you a lesson and fulfills his dreams of fucking you silly.

WARNINGS ➠ oral (male receiving), tad bit of shoe fucking, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, ass kink, size kink, lots of dirty talk, rushed ending. this if filthy lololol

———

blaise took a deep breath before slamming his fist down on the wooden desk of his office. the papers that were placed on top of it went flying around at the sudden movement.

his hands were shaking with irritation. if that fucking landlord could just shut the fuck up about his rent for one second-

the male’s thoughts were cut off by small, rapid knocks against the door. his brows knitted in confusion at the unanticipated invasion.

“come in!”

the door creaked as you entered the room, peeking your head through the doorway at first before going in, shutting the door behind you.

your presence emitted a groan from him. he knew that the moment you both spent time together it would somehow end in a screaming match, and blaise was not in the mood to be dealing with anything right now.

you gave him a sharp glare in response before opening your mouth to speak. yet you were cut off by your own silence as you studied the state of his office.

everything seemed so rustled and chaotic— there were papers thrown in the floor, some were even crumbled and a few candy wrappers were tossed around. “what is this mess?” you spoke, tone lacing with disgust as you picked up an old folder from the worktable; his hand was quick to swat you away, scowling you before leaning back on the desk.

“what do you want?” he squinted at you, roaming his eyes down your body suspiciously— mentally slapping himself for staring at your breasts longer than planned.

“what the fuck is up your arse today?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and walking closer to him until he had to crane his neck down to look at you.

blaise’s chest heaved up and down as he quickly undid the top button of his shirt, turning away from you and taking long strides around the room. he closed his eyes and really hated himself for wanting nothing more than to shut that smart mouth of yours with his hardening cock. it was too much for him— and if there was one-way blaise loved to take his stress out on, was sex. and god— that stupid little skirt of yours that was begging to be lifted and reveal that sweet cunt that plagued his mind at the worst moments was the last push he needed to man up and fuck you as he had always wanted to.

you observed him in silence, watching how he mumbled something to himself about ‘i can’t think of her like this.’

quietness ran across the walls for a few moments before blaise was back in front of you, muttering a “fuck it” and connecting his lips to yours.

the fleeting kiss had you bewildered for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth unmoving as the tall man held the back of your head in his palm. you didn’t kiss him back at first, but you didn’t protest either. and you’d be dammed if you didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to get fucked brain dead by blaise zabini.

but who could blame you when you kissed him back with the same— maybe even more— force; it was messy and heated all at once, the frustration that you sensed from earlier was being poured in that kiss. teeth were clashing together as his tongue pressed down on yours, drawing out a breathy moan from you.

blaise cupped your rear with both hands, lifting you in an unforeseen manner, causing you to squeal lightly until you felt your bum being pressed against the cool surface of his messy desk.

he was the first to break apart from the kiss, breathing steadily as he stared down at you— even from your perched up position he was still a few inches taller.

“i’m not gonna hold back” he warned, searching your eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation that you might feel. but he was far from finding any, you wanted blaise to fuck you until he was poking out of your tummy and you wanted it now.

“i don’t care” you breathed out, reconnecting your mouth to his and almost missing out on that keen groan that came out of his mouth.

his large digits scurried under your skirt, unzipping it in a quick motion and pulling it down your legs until it pooled on the floor.

he teasingly ran his index finger up and down the soaked cotton that covered your pulsating pussy. “blaise— please” you shamelessly plead, throwing all your morals out the window and not caring about anything else but being rutted over and over again.

“look at you. begging like a well paid whore when you were being a smart ass with me not even ten minutes ago.” he chuckled, taking pride in the way you whimpered in response, bucking your hips up onto his fingers. “what is it, baby? you want me to fuck you until that dumb baby brain can only think about my cock, yeah?”

his words struck a bit of sense into you and you huffed in response— “are you actually gonna give me what i want and fuck me properly or are you all talk?”

you messed up and you messed up big; you could tell by the way hir pupils dilated and the slow touches against your clothed pussy stopped. his tongue darted out to poke on his left cheek as he laughed lightly, stepping back and harshly bringing you down the desk.

“i’m gonna fuck your throat until you learn how to keep useless stuff to yourself, princess” he warned, signalling down to the floor as he unbuckled his belt.

you tentatively got down on your knees, lightly scraping them against the wooden floor as you rubbed your thighs together, pawing at your lap as blaise’s erection appeared in your view of line.

was that supposed to fit in you?

blaise seemed to notice your unsureness— “you alright there, pretty girl?” his tone was softer, less stern yet with the same accent of authority he always carried.

“i— it’s… big.” you let out, feeling the tip of your ears grow hot as he chuckled before picking up a more alluring timbre “oh i’m gonna make it fit” he winked.

you swallowed thickly, already picturing the delicious stretch this man was gonna provide you. he stroked his large cock sensually before making a beeline with it to your lips, which were already parted in expectancy; he went to tease you for it but was cut off by his low moan that got provoked as the warmth of your mouth enveloped his pulsating tip.

his digits tangled themselves in your hair, good girl’s and just like that’s slipped from his mouth every time your tongue swirled around his head. and the slickness that was pouring out of you was suddenly too much to ignore— hence why you reached down to attempt and soothe the burning sensation. blaise was still enthralled with the way your worked those lips that he had dreamed of having against his around his cock— his hands tightened around your scalp as he thrusted rapidly against your mouth, desperately probing for an orgasm.

a muffled whine came from you as he fucked your throat repeatedly, causing him to look down at your teary eyes, eventually settling his irises on your hand rubbing your greedy cunt.

blaise tutted with a hint of disappointment, making your movements halt as you batted your eyelashes up at him innocently as if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with his cock that was ready to shoot its cum down your fucked out throat.

you went to furrow your brows when he kicked your hand away gently, replacing your fingers with the point of his leather shoe, your wetness already leaking down on his footwear as you whined around his cock, making his hips buck involuntarily at the vibrations— “i was gonna reward you for sucking me so well, but since you’re such a desperate slut you’re gonna have to fuck yourself on my shoe while i throat fuck you, yeah?” he asked demanded.

a weak nod was all he got in response before he was back to gripping your hair in his fist, spit drooling down your chin at the abrupt pace he set without even a warning— not that you minded.

your hips rolled slowly into his shoe, swollen clit fizzing at the stimulation; his shoe hit every right nerve ending, the sounds you made around his cock were filthy and lewd, only making his balls grow tighter as he stilled his hips, rope after rope of cum flooding your mouth.

you moaned lowly against his cock at the feeling of his warm cum spraying down your throat.

he gave tattered breaths and moans as he pulled out of your mouth, barely even taking notice of the whining mess you became, his foot now long gone from your oozing cunt.

“get the fuck up” he breathed out, staring down at your already fucked out-state— saliva all over your chin, along with a few tears decorating your frowning face as you stood up. his large hands came to cup your face, delivering a small kiss on the corner of your mouth before placing his mouth next to your ear and whispering “i’ve been trying to translate your frowns and find out what your fucking problem with me was before bending you over my desk and fucking you stupid.”

you could’ve easily moaned at his words alone if it weren’t for his lips linking with yours in a crazed kiss as he guided you towards his messy desk— which was about to be a whole lot messier.

his hands reassuringly squeezed your waist as he turned you around, his once again hard cock rubbed against your ass as he planted kisses against your neck, sucking on certain spots that had your eyes rolling onto the back of your head— his fingers making quick work of getting your shirt off, throwing it somewhere around the room as he separated himself from your now marked neck, leaving you in your undergarments that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck you senseless for so long, baby. you don’t know how many times i spent with my hand around my cock dreaming about your tight pussy around it.” he groaned out, pushing you forward until your breasts squished against the desk, shuddering at the cold of it.

his palms massaged your left ass cheek before a harsh slap was delivered to it— and his mouth wasn’t there to cover the pornographic moan that came out of you this time, pushing your bum against his hardened dick in anticipation.

blaise grabbed a hold of his cock and steadied himself with a hand on your bum, squeezing. before he moved your panties to the side and teased your pulsating entrance with his tip, groaning slightly at the way your pussy almost swallowed him in as he pushed the tiniest bit in, coaxing a loud cry from you.

“so so tight, princess” he praised, pushing himself all the way in with a single thrust, arousal already gushing down your thighs.

the male wasted no time and in a few moments he had you with your mouth gaped open, eyes going crisscross with every un pitying snap against your hips of his.

“can you feel me all the way up in your pretty guts, baby girl? you like having this slutty cunt being taught a lesson, huh?” he growled out, eyes trained on each bounce of your ass as he sped up— the clapping sounds were enough to give away what was happening to any passerbyers outside his office; not that any of you minded at this point.

“oh! fuck blaise— right there! right there!” you babbled out, shutting your eyes tight as he brought you up with his bicep against your throat, making you loll your head back on his shoulder as his dick continuously hit that spot inside you.

blaise’s other hand snaked around your midriff, pressing down on the evident outline of his cock going in and out of your tummy. “look at me destroying your pretty little insides, sweetheart, bet you won’t be able to sit on this pretty little pussy for the next week” he cooed at you before slamming you forwards until your cheek pressed against his rattling desk.

“don’t stop! don’t stop please!” you sobbed out, squeaking lightly when his palms crashed down roughly on your ass, groans and moans echoing around the room like a chant— the pit in your stomach growing tighter and tighter by the second.

“i’m cumming blaise, i’m fucking cumming” you gasped out, lifting your head back up and pointing your nose to the ceiling as you came all-around blaise’s cock with a loud ecstatic moan.

a whimper passed by your lips as blaise continued to fuck you through your high; and it took him one look to look at the mess you left running down yours and his thighs for him to be pumping you full of his cum, steady thrusts that had him hissing as you clenched around him for a final time.

he pulled out of you to watch his cum blow out of your overstimulated pussy, the aftershocks of the intense orgasm still causing your muscles to spasm every once in a while.

“you made my office a whole lot messier” he grunted out, pointing down to the puddle that fell in between your legs, causing you to flush instantly as he chuckled and pressed light kisses to your temple.

———

🏷: @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @youreso-golden @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @fredshufflepuff @dracosafety @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @andineverwould @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @fizzleberries @malfoy-girl @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @whoreforgeorgeandfred @elizabethrosedarling

[check your privacy settings if i couldn’t tag you]

#blaise zabini smut #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini au #blaise zabini oneshot #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini x you #queue'd

1K notes · View notes

officialcharactersimp · 3 years

Text

Mending & Amends

(Graduation Gift Part 4)

Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.

A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)

CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??

While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.

She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.

She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.

An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.

She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.

Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.

Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.

You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.

“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.

“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.

“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.

She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.

“You mean it?” you ask softly.

“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.

“Pinky promise?” you ask.

“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.

“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”

“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.

“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.

“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.

“How’s your bottom?” she asks.

“Hurts,” you mumble.

“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.

“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.

“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.

She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.

You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.

Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.

But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.

—

“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.

“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.

“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.

“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.

“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.

“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.

You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.

“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.

When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.

You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.

“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.

“Let me down!” you squirm.

“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.

“Huh?” you ask.

“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.

“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.

“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.

“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.

“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.

You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.

“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.

“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.

“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.

“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.

“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.

“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.

Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.

—

When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.

You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”

“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.

“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?

“Huh?” you blurt out.

“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.

“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.

“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.

“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.

“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.

“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.

“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.

It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.

When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.

“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”

She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.

“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.

“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.

“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”

778 notes · View notes

1-800-sope · 3 years

Text

Tag, You’re It (M)

paring: Jungkook x reader

rating: M

Gener: Yandere

Warnings : Kidnapping

Summery: They always say it’s someone you know, someone that you are close to that turns out to be a psycho freak, you just weren't expecting it to be your hot innocent next door neighbor.

Inspired by Tag, You’re It by queen mel <3

BTS Masterlist

“Looking at me through your window

“Boy, you had your eye for a little”

“Hi Y/n.” Jungkook, your friendly neighbor shouted from across the yard as he spotted you. “Good afternoon Jungook, How are you?” You shouted back mirroring his smile. “I’m doing good just got done with some grocery shopping.” Jungkook responded displaying the plastic bags he was holding in his arms.

With that you let out a groan as you inserted your key in the lock. “That reminds me, I have to do some shopping of my own.” A chuckle escaped from jungkook.

“I’ll cut you up and make you dinner

You’ve reached the end, you are the winner.”

“Say if you don’t have food, I hope i’m not overstepping but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight.” Jungkook asked innocently, biting his lip as he eyed you from the sided. You focused on opening your front door trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. “As much as I would enjoy that Mr. Jeon, I have some homework to get to tonight.” You said as you looked up at him. Your door was now unlocked but you didn’t want to go inside, not yet at least. You wanted to savor this moment with your overly extremely hot next door neighbor.

Jungkook nodded his head as he went to open his own front door. “Well I wish you all the luck on that homework, but just know my offer still stands.” To anyone that would have seem like an innocent invitation, to YOU it was an innocent invitation. but to Jungkook it was far from innocent.

“Rolling down your tinted window

Driving next to me real slow, he said”

Jogging through the neighborhood was one of the things you did every morning five days out of the week. You would jog around the block two times, stop by Mrs. Kim’s daughters lemonade stand grab a drink and continue. It was all apart of the routine.

But having a suspicious black BMW slow down as it turned down the street you were making your way down was not apart of the rutie.

You were an observant girl, always aware of your surrounds, you liked to be kept on your toes never getting too comfortable, some might call you paranoid. So when you turned your head and caught site of the slowed down car you picked up your pase. But so did the car.

“Howdy Neighbor.” A familiar voice called out as the car was now next to you. “oh my god Jungkook!” You jumped back face flush with a beating heart. God this boy will give you a heart attack one day.

Jungkook looked at you with innocent eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked as you stopped and placed both of your hands on your knees, taking in deep breaths.

“Yes, you just scared the living daylights out of me that’s all.” You chuckled leaning back up whipping some sweat off of your forehead, when you make eye contact with him your face flushed.

gross and sweaty in front of the handsome neighbor way to go Y/n,

“Oh my bad I didn’t mean to.” He quickly spoke with a sincere look in his eyes. You laughed and shook your head. “It’s okay Jungkook, Just don’t drive so creepy next time.”

“Let me take you for a joyride

I’ve got some candy for you inside.”

“Say, I just got back from the store and I have some popsicles it is a hot day, would you like any?” Jungkook asked with a sweet smile that almost made you say yes right away.

You watched as the young man reached in the back of his car behind the driver's seat, you took note on how the ink on his muscular arms looked extremely good

when he pulled forward a box of popsicle you looked away not wanted to get caught drooling over him. “Thank you Jungkook.”You smiled as you watched him open the box. Your mouth instantly watered.

“Come eat it inside.” Jungkook said. You watched in confusion as he leaned over and open the car door. “Oh I really shouldn’t” feeling self conscious you took a step back.

“Nonsense, The popsicle will melt while it’s out there, and do you really wanna hold a sticky stick while you run.” He looked at you with a teasing smile.

Giving up you rolled your eyes and got into the car. “that’s a good girl.” Jungkook said as you shut the door face now more flushed than before and chest pounding that you pray to the gods he can’t hear it.

‘What flavor do you want?” He asked dismissing the comment he just made. You on the other hand had the words still repeating in your head. Another puls feeling shot through you but this one was not in your chest.

“Is there Orange.” You mastered to ask as you let out an awkward cough hoping he just thinks your flustered state is from the morning run. “Let me take a look.” He mumbled digging through the box.

“If not cherry is fine, you know i’m okay with any flavor except grape. the grape ones-” “taste like medicine” You and Jungkook said at the same time. You nodded. “You're in luck missy, I found an orange.” He playfully smirked holding up the orange flavored popsicle.

It’s been four weeks since your encounter with Mr. Hottie neighbor and you were thankful for that. Yes Jungkook was nice company but you won’t be able to go another minute with your heart going crazy like it was going to blast out of your chest.

It was currently 1:30 am and you were laying on your living room couch trying to finish up your thesis statement for one of your college courses, that when the third rumble of your stomach hit and you got fed up.

grabbing your car keys and throwing a jacked over your tank top you made your way out the door and to your car. One of the perks of being a college kid is being broke, ordering takeout for three weeks straight really put a dent in your pocket.

starting your car up you drove to the nearest corner store that was open.

pulling into the parking lot you failed to notice how it was almost empty except for wo other cars.

stepping out you didn’t bother to lock your car door the goal of getting in and getting out was the on thing that filled your mind.

“Running through the parking lot

he chased me and he wouldn't stop”

Once you were done paying you quickly grabbed your bag and pushed open the door, the cold air greeting you in the procese sent a shiver down your spine. was it worth it to go out in your pajama shorts and a tank top, looking around you took in how dark it was. no it wasn’t.

quickly opening your car door you placed the bag next to you and the keys inside. taking a peaky through the rear view mirror. That’s when you saw it

There was a person in the backseat of your car but before you could let out a bloody scream they placed the a white cloth over your mouth.

Now you were fully regretting going out tonight.

Not taking in a deep breath you reached your hand out to the cup holder next to you grabbing the paper spry you through your arm back and pressed down on it, the attacker cussed and moved their hand.

not wasting a minute you got out the car and did what anyone in their right mind would do. You ran. you heard the car door slam shut and you knew they got out too the fast footsteps that started to follow you proved it. but you didn’t stop, you didn’t look back.

“Grab my hand, pushed me down

took the words right out my mouth”

You felt the hands on you, the force pushed you to the ground as a hand went clasping around your mouth muffling your scram, a muscular arm wrapped around your waist bringing you back up.

This was not happening, You were not done for. You couldn't wouldn't except this faith and that's why you did everything your self defense classes taught you. You slammed your foot on this psycho’s toes and he released you again with a cuss.

if you would have listened. you would have noticed that the voice sounded oddly familiar.

but before you can even get one step away something hard came in contact with the side of your head sending you straight to the gourd.

your blurry vision filled with large black boots and then you lost consciousness.

You slowly opened your eyes, gretted to a dim light and a room with four walls, no windows in sight. just a door. panic rushed through your body and you tried to move that’s when you noticed you were hanging.

A thick rope wrapped around your wrist was hanging you up from the ceiling nothing was supporting your feet.

“Enie meenie miny mo”

A voice was heard from behind you, it made your heart stop.

“Get your lady by her toes”

You felt something brush against your ankle and you let out a piercing scream. The sinister sound turned into a child like giggle.

“If she screams, don’t let her go” it sung.

A choked sob escaped you as the tears started to run down your face. “Whyy why why why.” You whispered to weak to speak.

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay love.” The voice cooed as a hand was gently brushing down the side of your head.

The presence of your abductor finally showed itself, they were now standing in front of you holding those familiar innocent doe like eyes.

“J-Jungkook?”

“Howdy neighbor.”

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

285 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eleven: Love - SMUT

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, cunningless, tit play, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, food and drink mention, emotional because we’re nearing the end, a family being brought together and our favourite soft, sad dad loving his son and, well… you.

Word count: 4300>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED.

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Eleven - Next

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

Just entering Black Gold Cooperative again, when you thought the previous night would be your last, drew tears to your eyes. This extensive size office was the place you’d first journeyed too upon venturing to the world of man. The building meant more to you than you had first realised, and it held so many amazing memories of self discovery. Your eyes flicked between the velvet sofa where you had once slept on, and the plants that peppered each corner of the lobby. They were vibrant and filled with life, symbolic of new beginnings. Now, the only magic in the air was love. You could feel it, Maxwell could feel it, and from the way Alistair perked up as you sneaked up behind him, he could feel it too. Love truly was the most powerful thing.

Seeing the way Alistair ran into his father’s arms, and the way he squeezed Max so tight -- like he was afraid to let him go, was enough to make your heart melt into your chest. “Daddy! You’re back!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Did you win?” He asked, his dark brown eyes glittering with hope. Alistair tugged on Max’s dark blonde shaggy hair as he waited for a reply.

“Yeah buddy, I won,” Max chuckled breathlessly. With those two words of affirmation, Alistair burst into tears. You took a step back as you watched the interaction, sensing how high the emotion was. You knew that Max had waited for this day to come for a long time. “No no, don’t cry. You should be happy.” Max cooed apologetically, his eyes widening as he tried his hardest to comfort his son. You were no longer a Goddess, and you had been stripped of your powers, but you could still feel the compassion between them both. And it was beautiful.

“I am happy,” Alistair choked out in between sobs, pulling back to look at his father. Max wiped away Alistair’s tears and offered him a weak smile. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Alistair confessed, nuzzling his face into his father’s chest.

Max sniffed and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. “I’m going to redeem myself for everything, Ali. I know… I know I’ve done terrible things and made big mistakes, and I really am a pretty messed up loser but--”

“No,” Alistair cut him off, his tone chaste. “Daddy, you’re a winner. Thank you for fighting for me.”

“Always,” Maxwell hummed, picking up Alistair and cradling him in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

***

Maxwell drove, and Alistair insisted that you sit in the back of the car with him. You obliged, unable to ever refuse the bright eyed little boy. Alistair’s small, clammy hands squeezed yours and he watched intently as you gazed out the window, entranced by all the things you passed. There was still a lot you had to get used to, but it brought you comfort knowing that now, at least you had the time. There was no pressure to return back to Themyscira. D.C. was your home. Wherever Alistair and Max was, you were home.

Alistair nuzzled his head into you and closed his eyes, feeling completely content with your company. “I like your new outfit.” he hummed, his fingers tracing your glimmering gold belt.

“You do?” you asked curiously, and felt Alistair nod against you. “You know Ali, I sorta prefer the normal clothes.” you shrugged, and caught Maxwell smiling in the reflection of the rear view mirror.

“I like this,” Alistair admitted. “You look like a superhero. Like… from my comic books.”

“You don’t need a fancy costume to be a hero, Alistair,” you said, tapping his chin so he looked up at you. “Your dad is proof of that.”

***

Maxwell dropped his keys on the side table by the front door when the three of you returned home. “Are you guys hungry?” he questioned, scratching the back of his head. After a day in court, he’d worked up quite the appetite, he must admit.

Alistair grinned and nodded his head. “Starving! Can we get pizza? Please daddy, oh please can we get pizza?”

“Hmph,” Maxwell grumbled, displaying a faux annoyance before bursting into an adorable grin. “I suppose so. Since it’s a day to celebrate.”

“Yay!” Alistair cheered, running into the living room and jumping on the sofa. By the sounds of it, he’d found the remote control for the television and turned on one of his favourite kiddie TV shows.

Walking over to the telephone, Maxwell caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the many mirrors in the hallway and frowned. He was happy, but Gods did he still look a mess. The blonde in his hair was rapidly fading out and he was in desperate need of a trim. He’d been neglecting his biotin supplements and forgetting to moisturize, and oh, his tired eyes. You caught him hyper analyzing his appearance and approached him from behind. Pressing a kiss into his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist, you sighed.

“What are you thinking about?” you wondered out loud.

Maxwell swallowed. “I just… I’m not the man I once was,” he ran his fingers through his hair and gestured down to the power suit that he’d worn to court. “I’m not Max Lord anymore. Not this… big oil tycoon businessman. Not on TV anymore. This whole thing is a facade. It’s not me. And everytime I look at myself… I’m reminded of all the mistakes that I made,” he admitted quietly before taking a shaky exhale. “It’s fine,” he quickly backtracked. “Guess I’ll just have to suck it up.”

“The worst part is over, Max. And you’re a survivor,” you told him, taking his hand. “The world can forgive you, but it means nothing if you can’t forgive yourself. You need to learn to love yourself.”

“Will you help me?” Maxwell asked quietly, a nervous tone prominent in his voice.

You offered him a warm smile. “That’s why I’m here,” you reminded him sweetly. “To help.”

Maxwell turned around to face you fully and placed a hand on your cheek. You swore, in that moment and under his touch, that you had forgotten how to breathe. Max might not have been able to see it, but he truly was so beautiful. The gold in his former life may have been gilded, but the gold in his heart was pure and authentic. And now, it was all yours.

Maxwell pulled his tie off his neck and shuffled out of his suit jacket. “I think it might be time for me to hang up this tie for good.” Maxwell sighed sadly, running the patterned silk material between his fingers.

“Do you want to?”

Maxwell paused for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve worked so hard to get here… I just can’t give Black Gold up.”

“Then don’t.” you whispered, shuffling your body into his. He snaked an arm around you and sighed even louder.

“It’s not that easy, darling. I don’t have the money to keep it going.”

“I won’t let you give up on your lifelong dream, so… we’ll figure something out. Maybe you’ll have to downsize. If oil isn’t making you any money then maybe… you might have to specialise in something else. If the past week has proved anything it’s that all our problems can be figured out through the power of love. And you have that. Right here,” you maneuvered his hand and placed it on your heart before pointing your free hand into the living room at Alistair. The door stood slightly ajar. “And right there.”

Maxwell smiled. “There’s a thing, here. In the world of man…” you could tell he was about to start rambling about Goodness know what. He looked up slightly, avoiding your eye contact as he talked. “Where two people… love each other, a lot. And so they make a promise to dedicate themselves to one another. Asking you to be my girlfriend sounds a little childish,” Maxwell chuckled softly and your eyes widened when you realised where he was going with this. “But I guess… if you wanted…”

“I do!” You said quickly, cutting him off before he could even finish.

“You do?” Maxwell asked, truly stunned that you had agreed so fast. He couldn’t believe someone as magnificent as you would love him back, let alone want to be with him. He never thought he was deserving of love, especially after everything that had happened. If Maxwell had never met you, he would’ve been certain that he’d grow old, cold and alone.

“I do.” you confirmed, grinning and pressing your lips into his.

The genuine smile that was on his face when he pulled away was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. More beautiful than the sands and oceans on Themyscira. More beautiful than the landmarks and caves in Athens. It differed to his television smile. This was one hundred percent authentic. This was Maxwell Lorenzano. “I’m going to change into my pajamas,” you announced. “And I’ll bring Ali upstairs with me and have him get ready for bed.”

“Okay,” Max acknowledged, still grinning. “I’ll set the dining room table for the pizza.”

You guided Alistair upstairs and followed him into his bedroom. You sat down on his bed, and pulled him down to sit next to you. “I told you I had a gift for you, from Athens.” you smiled and watched as Alistair’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes!” Alistair cried out, bouncing up and down.

You detached the lasso of Hestia from your tunic and placed the rope gently in his hands. “This is my lasso of truth. Remember that one night when I met Julianna and Theodore, and I came to visit you? And I showed you how it worked? Do you remember?”

Alistair nodded slowly. “Yes. You told me the lasso wasn’t powered by you. It was powered by the truth.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, your heart swelling at how Alistair had retained that piece of information. “The lasso is important to me because it was a gift from my mother. And now, I’m passing it down to you. I didn’t get this in Athens, but it is from Athens originally. I hope my lasso will be a constant reminder for you to always tell the truth, and always see the good in people.”

Alistair’s jaw was agape and he was struck with awe as his fingers traced the magical rope. “I love it…” he whispered.

“I’m glad,” you smiled. “It’s very powerful Ali. Who knows, one day you might be able to use it.”

“And I can be a superhero just like you…” Alistair grinned before biting his lip. “And just like my daddy.”

“Exactly. Just like your daddy. C’mon now, I want you to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Then we can go order our pizza, okay?”

Before you left his bedroom, Alistair called your name. You sensed hesitancy in his voice, almost like he was nervous. “Can I… can I try out the lasso... on you? Maybe?”

You wanted to ask him why the child might possibly want to do that, but then you realised, he was probably just curious. So, you obliged, and held out your wrist. Remembering how you’d shown him before, Alistair wrapped the rope around your arm and took a deep breath.

“Do you love my daddy?” Alistair asked, after taking a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Will you promise not to leave him, ever?”

“I promise.”

“Would you mind if… if… I called you mommy?”

You felt warm tears prick the corners of his eyes. A mother. It’s everything you had always wanted to be. You were the goddess of home and hearth. The urge to one day have a family was in your nature.

“I’d love that, Ali.” you admitted.

Alistair pulled the rope from your wrist and enveloped you into a tight hug. “Okay. Because I love you mommy.”

“I love you too.”

***

“What do you want?” Maxwell asked his son, pen in hand. He’d been scribbling down the order, the businessman in him wanting to have everything planned out before he made the phone call.

“Pineapple pizza! The biggest one!” Alistair exclaimed gleefully, stretching out his arms. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ali, you won’t eat it all,” Maxwell frowned. You nudged him, as if to say, ‘let him have this’. “Okay,” Max sighed. “The biggest pineapple pizza. And what do you want?” he asked, turning to you this time. You furrowed your eyebrows together, taking another look at the menu that had been passed around the dining room table.

“How do I know what’s good?”

“Well, not pineapple.” Maxwell grumbled.

Alistair gasped, unable to believe the words that had just left his father’s lips. “Don’t listen to him,” Alistair said, grabbing your hand. “Daddy is wrong. Pineapple pizza is so delicious. Will you try some of mine?”

You squeezed the little boy’s hand. “Sure,” you agreed. Maxwell swore his heart melted everytime he witnessed interaction between you and his son. It was so pure, it was like you and Alistair had known each other forever. Granted, you’d known the little boy longer than you knew Maxwell. The day you woke up in the park felt like yesterday. “What do you like, Max?” you quizzed, eventually giving up on the menu.

“Pepperoni, I guess. I don’t eat pizza much.” He admitted sheepishly. Before you could reply, Alistair’s voice made you jump up in shock.

“Boring!” He called out. Max shot him a playful glare and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be rude!” Maxwell chastised, wiggling his index finger, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“He’s like you,” you pointed out. “Always has something to say.”

“My son.” Maxwell declared proudly, pulling Alistair into his lap and ruffling his dark hair.

Just like Max had anticipated, Alistair couldn’t eat the large pineapple pizza. In fact, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa after only two slices, a Star Wars blanket draped over him and a stuffed toy curled tight into his chest.

“Alistair asked me if it would be alright if he called me mommy,” you admitted quietly as Maxwell gathered the plates and empty glasses. His head snapped to face you the second the words left your lips. “I told him yes. But I figured… maybe you should have some say in it? I don’t know.”

“It means a lot to me that Ali can put his faith in you, and that he sees you as his mother. But this is a big deal. Family is for life and I don’t… he’s already lost one mother. I don’t want him to lose you too. So of course, it’s fine by me. As long as you promise to always be a mother to him, no matter what.”

“Always,” you whispered in reassurance, cupping Maxwell’s cheek and gazing into his dark eyes. “I promise.”

“I believe you,” Maxwell replied, kissing you on the forehead. “I should take him to bed.”

“Let me handle it,” you replied, stretching before leaning down to pick up the sleeping boy and cradling him in your arms. Clearly, somewhere down the line, you had forgotten you had been stripped of your powers and you were now a mortal. You let out a yelp. Once able to carry Alistair easily, you were now struggling. You wobbled slightly and Max hurried to your side to hold you and help you keep your balance.

“You okay?” Max asked, quirking an eyebrow. “He’s heavier than he looks.” you gasped, already a little breathless.

“Wanna trade?” he quizzed, raising a plate.

You mumbled a ‘yes’ and passed Alistair over to his father. “I’ll do the dishes and meet you upstairs.”

***

Max was still with Alistair by the time you had finished up the dishes and headed to the bedroom. You sat by the dressing table, brushing out your hair, and looked at the pile of discarded armour sat in the corner of the room. Maybe one day it would come of use, but for now, this was it. This was the start of a new life where you didn’t need no Amazonian armour. With Maxwell and Alistair, you had all the protection you could ever need.

“Hi,” Maxwell whispered, padding into the bedroom. You turned to face him and smiled. “I’m glad to be home… now… with you. Glad this is all over.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to rub them affectionately. “Me too.” you replied warmly, leaning into his touch and nuzzling your head into his chest. You closed your eyes in contentment. Every second you spent with Max, you spent wishing it would last forever. Although you knew better than to make a wish.

“Are you tired?” Max pondered, smoothing out your hair and admiring your face.

Pushing back your hair and admiring your beauty was up there with one of his most favourite things to do. Your eyes looked like home, your lips tasted like home. You were home.

“Mm, no, not really…” you confessed, staring at the image of both you and Max in the reflection of the dressing table mirror. But Max’s gaze was fixated only on you. “Actually. I had an idea, since you know, we’re celebrating and all,” you confessed after a brief moment of comfortable silence. Maxwell raised a curious eyebrow and waited for you to continue. “Remember our first night back in Athens when we…” you trailed off and glanced over towards the bed.

“Yeah.” Max answered, already breathless from the thought.

“I liked it a lot.” You admitted bashfully as you reminisced on your first time with Maxwell.

“Me too.” he agreed.

“So do you want to do it again…?”

Max didn’t reply with words, but instead he pulled you up from the stool that you were sitting on and twirled you around so you were facing him. He crashed his lips onto yours and let his large hands freely roam your back, desperate to feel every inch of your body. He’d been waiting to do this again.

Without breaking away from the kiss, you pushed him towards his bed and climbed on top of him. You straddled his hips and began to run your hands over his chest, leaning over and kissing along his jaw and down his neck. Feeling his cock already hot and heavy, he cursed under his breath, dipping his hand under the hem of your silk nightgown and smirking upon finding that you weren’t wearing any underwear. He slowly slid his thick fingers between your folds, causing you to gasp at the sudden bolt of pleasure that ran through you. His thumb began to circle your clit and you dug your fingers into his shoulders as he worked at your bundle of nerves.

He loved to look at you and watch as your face twisted in pleasure. He liked to know you were feeling good. His fingers were like magic, and he truly had a golden touch.

“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay?” Max asked, increasing the speed. You tried to push out a word but just came out as a mangled moan. You nodded your head, feeling your cunt desperately clench around nothing and your thighs tighten as you neared orgasm.

When you came undone, Max’s dark eyes gleamed with desire and pride. He pulled his fingers from under your nightgown and placed them on his tongue, sucking your arousal from his own digits.

“You taste amazing baby,” He praised, unable to contain his smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You replied back with a smile.

Both you and Max made your way over to the bed, stripping yourself out of your clothes and intertwining your bodies together.

“I don’t ever want this moment to end.” you confessed with a shaky exhale as Maxwell squeezed your breasts, peppering kisses down the valley of your chest.

“It doesn’t have to, princess, we have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

There it was again. The dumb nickname he’d called you from the day you first met. You’d insist that you weren’t a princess, and by no means royalty, but to Maxwell, you were. You were his princess. A rose stuck amongst a bush of thorns. You were the epitome of hope, beauty and love. And you were all his.

So the nickname grew on you, and you’d come to like it.

You felt the tip of Maxwell’s cock tease against your entrance as he swiftly rubbed his length up and down, between your glistening wet folds. By the time he pushed himself inside of you, just the scrunched up look on his face was enough to make your stomach erupt into butterflies. The crinkle in between his eyebrows and the way his perfect lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as your walls clamped around him.

“Fuck, you-you’re so tight,” He gasped, the Adams apple in his neck prevailing as he tried to swallow away his desire. “Always so tight. So per-perfect. Good girl. Such a go-good girl.” he praised, a small strand of dark blonde hair falling out of place and crossing his forehead.

You shuddered at his words.

“Look at me,” you begged, and he obliged, his chocolate coloured eyes snapping open. Despite the glaze of lust that seemed to cloud his vision, he was able to fixate on you, spending a few moments adoring your face -- the face he fell in love with -- as he remained seated deep inside you. He was stretching you open and Gods, it felt delicious, but you needed more. You desperately needed more. “Move, please.” you whimpered, bringing your hands up to cup his face.

Maxwell began to rock his hips into yours, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. He leaned over you and pressed his forehead against yours as he picked up his speed. “Don’t be too loud,” he warned quietly, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

It wasn’t long before he felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Shit,” he moaned, squeezing your shoulder to signify that he was close. “Neither of us are protected-- fuck, I need, I need to pull out.”

“Mm, no, no Max. Keep going. Don’t stop.” You begged, your fingers tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You could get pregnant.” he rasped out, suddenly remembering you were now a mortal.

“Would it really be so bad?” you asked, and your question alone was enough to throw Maxwell over the edge.

Would it really be so bad?

You had a point. Max had never imagined having any more kids. Hell, he’d never really planned on having Alistair. But times had changed, and he was so in love with you. He figured -- maybe kids were something he could give another go at. Little mini you’s running around the house would simply be so adorable. And who better to have children with, than the goddess of home and hearth? Having a family was written in your destiny. It was always meant to be. Given the time and the place, the prospect of having kids, getting you pregnant… it just felt right.

The start of a new life… both figuratively and literally.

Of course he was certain that this was what you wanted, and evidently, you wanted it to. But the idea of seeing you swole and round, carrying his children… well that was a whole different thing.

“Fuck princess, you’re gonna look so good carrying my baby.” Maxwell grounded, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

You felt your orgasm wash over you, and your walls clamp around his cock. That was enough to push him over the edge.

Maxwell came inside of you, and he made sure to cum deep, too. Once he’d regained his breath, he grabbed two pillows from his side of the bed and propped them under your butt so the lower half of your body was higher than your upper half.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“Making sure not a drop of it goes to waste,” Maxwell replied as he pressed sloppy kisses along your inner thighs.

And when he caught a glimpse of his seed beginning to spill out of you, he plunged his index finger and pushed it back in.

“I love you so much.” You whispered as Maxwell smoothed out your hair and kissed your lips.

“I love you too, darling. And I can’t wait to embark on this new life together.”

You pondered for a moment, relishing in the comfortable silence before you brought your index finger and pointed it towards Maxwell. “Life is good, but it can be better.”

Maxwell was trying his damn hardest to fight the grin that was edging to cross his lips. How could one person be so adorable?

“It can always be better.” he whispered, bringing his hand down to your stomach and kissing you again.

———————————————

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @ladyjenny19 @readsalot73 @softmedics

I Believe In Love taglist : (tagged in replies!)

#maxwell lord #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #max lord x reader #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal x you

210 notes · View notes

kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (5)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Oh boy, self doubt, A LOT of it. angsty, momma y/n isn’t doing too good, mentions of anxiety, allusions to worthlessness, just a lot of bad intrusive thoughts that are very degrading (and not in the smexy way)

Word Count: 1.1k

Note: I have a website that calculates my word count for stories, but it also tells me the most used word. 1.4% of this chapter is the word “Yunho” lol

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next (Coming Soon)

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @alanasfashion @purelyecstacy Blogs highlighted in bold could not be tagged. Please message me privately so we can resolve the problem and I can tag you next time ^^

Being an adult was exhausting. Especially the part where you pretend that you're listening when the bank teller states you should’ve cashed in your paycheck 2 days ago to get a lesser fee. Thanks Pat, I’ll think of that next time I’m working my ass off and talking care of a six-year-old, lovely advice, you are so helpful.

But it was enough to distract me from the underlying inferiority I felt every time I saw a dog hybrid in passing, even if it was just for a bit. I understood that the trend today was short fur and undercuts, but what if their fur was short for a bigger reason? Was it just their style or was it practical? Is long fur bad for your health?

These questions never left my head as I got some time to myself. I was on my way to pick up Yunho from his little daycare adventure. Hyejin texted me occasionally throughout the day, giving me updates about how Yunho was doing. Every picture she sent had a smiling golden retriever boy who looked more than okay, perfectly happy and healthy.

However, it pained me that seeing him sport his long fur stirred up insecurity in me. It was like a taunt. Words playing in the back of my head, telling me I was an incapable mother, that Yunho deserved better, that when he grows up and sees these pictures, he’ll resent you.

Like the laughter of a jester, I was calling myself stupid, unworthy. Every single thing I’ve done imperfectly played in my head like a twisted movie from hell. Look, look, look. Look how incapable you are. Look how badly you're raising your son. Look at your failures.

Even if I turned on the radio, I could still hear my subconscious toying with me. Like a fly in a tarantula’s nest. Why has one person's observation affected me so much? A couple words and my resolve suddenly came crashing down? Maybe it was the one spark that needed to set off the explosion. All the TNT, lined up from previous nights consumed by irrational thoughts, now finally igniting. “You’re failing”

Rationally, I knew that wasn’t the case.

But it’s never that easy, is it?

“Eomma!”

“Hi, bub!” I giggled.

Yunho ran into my arms, tackling me onto the hard, concrete sidewalk. But I didn’t mind. Yunho squeezes me tight, scenting me with upmost enthusiasm, his tail whipping around rapidly. “I missed you,” Yunho sighed, fisting his hands into my shirt. “I missed you too baby,” I whispered, holding him just a tad bit closer, and I meant it.

No matter how bad I felt, I’d always be okay with him around.

“Did you have fun?” I asked. He nodded frantically, face painted with excitement. “Yes! I got to play with legos!” He raised his arms up, expressing just how much he loved playing with the legos. “You did? That’s awesome!” I gasped, kissing my son on the forehead.

I stood back up on my feet, taking Yunho in my arms to carry him back to the daycare. I still had to thank Hyejin, and no doubt was she still in the office, giving me a moment with Yunho. but to my surprise, it wasn’t Hyejin that let Yunho bolt out the door and tackle me to the ground. It was Hoseok.

He gave me a shy wave and smile as Yunho and I entered the front office. I gave him a genuine one back. I may be fighting with myself in my head, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know, so why be cold? “Hello Hoseok,” I said, and Yunho also gives him an excited wave.

“Hello Y/n, how was your day?” He asked, but his words were still tight, still cautious. “It was okay... Thank you for watching over Yunho for me, you and Hyejin both.” Hoseok seemed to light up a bit at my words as his smile grew wider. “It’s nothing really, Yunho is an amazing kid,” I felt my heart swell at those words, Yunho was definitely an amazing kid. I must’ve done something right. Right?

“Yeah, he is,” I teased the boy who blushed and hid his face in the crook of my neck. I cooed at his cuteness before Hoseok spoke up again. “I-I’m sorry for earlier, I really didn’t mean to upset you.” He curved into himself a bit.

His apology was sincere, I knew that. From what Hyejin had told me and from what I observed, Hoseok was a good guy. He didn’t know the impact his words had, besides; it was my problem anyway. Why burden someone else?

“I’d like to take you for a coffee sometime, as an apology” Hoseok added on after I didn’t say anything for a minute or two. I chuckled, “That sounds nice, but you don’t have to. It’s okay, really,” but Hoseok shook his head, insisting that this was the way to apologize for something that obviously struck a deep nerve.

“Alright, I give in. Do you have a date in mind?” I asked.

“Ah... I didn’t get that far... Here, I’ll give you my number so I can text you!” Hoseok exclaimed, having an eureka moment.

“Smooth, Hoseok, very smooth.” I giggled.

“Wha? Oh no! I didn’t- I mean...” Hoseok stuttered on, a flush of pink on his face. “I’m joking,” I smiled. Hoseok sighed in relief, chuckling to himself. “Here you go,” Hoseok handed me his phone, and I entered my number in his contacts with one hand, expertly. People don’t mention that one of the mom powers is being able to do things one handed.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can,” Hoseok promised. “I’ll be waiting,” I said, forgetting all about my worries and fears for a moment. The air felt calm, my brain relaxed, it was easier to breathe. I was thankful for that, even if the moment was short.

Yunho looked out the car window at the trees that lined the road. He was swinging his feet back and forth. The ears on the top of his head twitched a bit every time a new song started on the radio. The sun hit his face like a Picasso painting that screamed innocence. A portrait that slipped off the canvas, given to me, even if I wasn’t deserving of such beauty.

“Hey bub?” I called, glancing in the rear-view mirror to look at my son. “Yea?” He answered back, looking towards me even if he couldn’t look at my face. “Are your ears and tail okay?”

“Yep!”

“Your fur doesn’t bother you?”

“Nope!”

“Are you sure? We can cut it if it’s bothering you,”

“I don’t wanna cut it!”

Yunho doesn’t lie. He can’t. He always gives himself away by either avoiding my gaze or mumbling to himself. But he was confident in those words. That helped. “Okay bub, I love you.”

“I love you too Eomma,”

#bts #bts fic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #hobi #bts hoseok #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid #hoseok fic #jhope fic

198 notes · View notes

mercurial-madhouse · 3 years

Photo

@oldbay-on-apples asked, I wish you would write a fic where characters of your choice are spies and trying to escape a facility with the blueprints they need!

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

See my point of view (As someone staring back at you)

“We’re in, Haz.”

Louis’s voice transmits through his earpiece. The tech relies on sound vibrations, picking up the resonance of Louis’s vocal cords so that, even though they can all hear him clearly, on Louis’s end his words are below a whisper.

“Surprisingly, I can see that.” Harry scans the multiple video feeds on the screen before him. Louis, Picklock, top left; Niall, Ammunition, bottom left; Liam, Data Encryption, bottom right.

Top right: blank. Where his feed should be.

Louis’s face pops into Liam’s camera long enough for him to wiggle his eyebrows. All black looks so damn good on him. “How’m I supposed to know you weren’t mid-kip, old man?”

Harry tears his gaze away from Louis before his attention is compromised. Louis’s only two years older than he is and he’s been arse over tit for the footie player-turned-spy since they met years ago. But feelings cloud judgement, a potentially fatal threat too dangerous to dare in their line of work. He eyes the silver-tipped black cane leaning against the table next to him.

Current mobility status: severely limited.

“Promised Payno he wouldn’t have to babysit you alone,” he mutters without missing a beat.

Louis screws his features up then disappears from Liam’s screen, clearly shoved aside. Light glints off the camera implanted in the thin film of the eye-contact he’s wearing that’s allowing Harry to see their views. The nanotech Liam used to create it and their earpieces is too valuable to risk discovery by foreign governments. Any indication of compromise they must destroy the only lifeline Harry has to them.

Frustration tenses his muscles and tweaks the bulging disc between vertebrae L4 and L5. A lance of pain shoots up his spine. He raps a button on the keyboard. A fourth feed appears, the hijacked surveillance camera on the front gate with views of the Russian security guard manning the video booth.

Niall’s already detached from the other two. He oversees the perimeter. In complete silence he’s setting up remote-controlled explosives, the failsafe to create chaos should the other two need help during the extraction. Liam and Louis are silent. Harry watches like a video game without a controller as they scale the rear wall and infiltrate the building through the massive heating duct.

As rogue operatives, their only link back to MI6 is a non-existent papertrail: an agent simply known as Z (probably because Q was already taken). The most dangerous jobs go to them, the ones MI6 can’t chance having connected back to the British government if the four of them are compromised on a mission.

If the window of opportunity to sneak into the Kremlin for a specific set of blueprints only known as TMH-11 weren’t closing fast, they might have waited for Harry to heal. All it’d taken was an unfortunate twist on their last mission in Bulgaria and he’d slipped a disc. He’s certain a gunshot to the back would be less painful. Louis had barely kept him on his feet to get to safety.

The silver world surrounding Louis and Liam steadies. For a few seconds Harry can see them both as they look at each other.

Liam glances at his watch. He’s spent months logging the patrols for the building and knows the timing by memory.

“Six minutes, Tommo. No more.”

Louis nods. A breath, then they lift the ceiling grate aside. Liam finds leverage, planting his feet, gloved hands tight around the rope as Louis hovers towards the ground. The red laser lines criss-crossing the entire area as thin as trip-wires.

Harry releases a breath when Louis’s feet touch down soundlessly, just before the tiny metal boxes all stacked like mailroom slots at a post office. The grid’s so small Louis’s got to keep his knees locked together. Even then, barely a centimetre separates him from discovery.

He works efficiently on the lock for box TMH-11, tools so tiny they make his slim fingers look even more slender. The miniscule flame of the blowtorch matches the alarm lasers in width.

“Two minutes, eight seconds,” Liam says, tone even.

Plenty of time.

Louis is silent. He doesn’t answer when he’s concentrating. All of them know he’s heard.

The flame flares once. Louis cuts it off, pocketing the tools. He eases the door open, peering inside.

Motion on the screen catches Harry’s attention. The security guard’s feet have landed flat, squinting at the video monitor in front of him. His hand hovers over a call button, lips moving.

“Possible indeterminate error,” Harry warns. “Lou, get out now.”

Louis slides a cylinder from the box. At least a metre long, he slips it up to Liam.

“I’ve got movement,” Niall reports.

“Tommo, now,” Liam hisses.

Louis clicks the box closed. There’s no time to get the lock back into place. Footsteps fuzz through Liam and Louis’s earpieces. Pain surges through Harry’s back as he lurches forward, staring at Louis’s feed. Louis’s gaze whips over his shoulder towards the closed door of the vault.

“Lou, get out!”

Liam appears on Louis’s screen. Louis’s silent, but whatever he says to Liam with a look has Liam shaking his head.

Harry’s seen this too many times in his nightmares. They know their orders. They know what’s most important. “Lou, you still have time. Go.”

“Get that cache to Niall,” Louis whispers. He detaches the line from his back.

“Lou!” Harry shouts, in time with Liam. “Niall, code one. On my command.”

“Copy this.”

“Payno, go.” In Louis’s feed, Liam looks too far away. It’s not the distance that’s the enemy, it’s getting Louis through the grid without tripping the alarm. It’s precision that can’t be done quickly. The moment they trip the alarm the whole building goes on lockdown, cutting Liam off too.

Liam curses. Louis’s face vanishes in his screen, replaced by the cord Liam’s hauling up, then the descent of darkness as he closes the vent.

Heart racing, Harry splits his attention between Liam and Louis, anxiously tracking Liam’s progress back through the building. Louis doesn’t move except to press his forehead against the wall of metal, completely still. He can’t risk alerting the guards or sounding the alarm before Liam’s far enough out.

“Lou, he’s on the roof.” Harry doesn’t need to whisper, but his voice comes out soft anyway. “It’s only four metres to the door.”

If anyone can get out, it’s Louis. He’s as expert at slipping through tight spaces as he is at picking every lock. Harry refuses to believe he can’t find a way through these.

Louis pushes out a slow breath, loud enough for Harry to hear through the wire. “I won’t make it, Haz. You know I can’t risk it.”

Fuck. Fuck. This possibility isn’t a surprise. They’ve got hundreds of contingency plans and this one is no different. Once Liam successfully drops the cache with Niall, he’ll go back for Louis.

“Payno, report.”

“Three minutes.”

Three minutes to get to Niall and back. A dangerous gamble.

“Think you could go a mite faster there, Payno?” Louis mutters, voice light despite the tightness.

Another man has joined the security guard. They’re pointing at one of the feeds. Harry’s heart thuds as dread washes over him, pulse pumping in his jugular.

“Damnit, I should be—”

“Right where the fuck you are,” Louis cuts him off, an edge to his words. They soften. Something indescribable leaks into his tone and slicks Harry’s palms with sweat. “Right where you need to be, Haz.”

“I need to be with you.” The words are out before Harry can stop them, but it’s the truth. If Harry were there this wouldn’t be an issue. He should be getting Louis out while Liam runs the line. They operate in pairs for a reason.

Louis hasn’t moved at all. His control is impressive. Off the clock he’s all manic energy. On a job every move he makes is precise and carefully thought out. None of them could possibly fill his role.

“One minute,” Liam reports. He’s scaling to the roof.

Footsteps echo through the corridor behind Louis. Russian voices, too far for the mic to pick up, so the internal translator won’t work. They stop outside the door. The bleeps of a keypad.

A torpedo of terror surges into Harry’s chest and ruptures.

“Hazza—”

“Niall, now! Liam, go!”

“Haz, I’m sorry... I’m in love with you.”

Niall’s explosives detonate. Louis’s feed goes dark. Harry’s heart gets caught in the blast.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

(Ok, I tried so hard to make this a drabble of 500 words. Then 1k. It wasn’t meant to be. This is the story the characters told me. I hope it fits the bill, love! I do enjoy me some spy AUs even though this is my first to write! Love my action and adventure!)

Have something else you’d like to see me write? Go wild! Pairing, situation, feeling… Send me an ask (anon or not) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’

Superpowers Drabble

Invisible Drabble

Only one bed (H-POV)

Only one bed (L-POV)

ABO new-omega!Louis drabble that became a fic on AO3.

#trackinghome #hlcreators #hljournal #1dsource #yourlarrysource #tracksintheam #larry drabble #larry fanfiction #spy au

78 notes · View notes

fallingappleshurt · 4 years

Note

im in the mood for angst, so for your dff au, could you please writing a one shot or smth along those lines of techno coming home from a particularly tough duel and everybody else’s reactions? ty!!! <33

YES HELLO I WRITE

Yes Hello I’m a writer and I forgot about asks but here we go!! I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s really bad but here it is!

This is very poorly edited I’m so sorry lol, this takes place in my dff AU! It’s spunky

And it’s been awhile since I’ve written for this AU so things are a little weird, kind of missed the angst but I got ideas don’t worry

TW: violence, fighting, description of injury but nothing too graphic I think

Dicey Nights

Sword in hand, solid stance, deep breath. He could do this.

Techno tapped his foot anxious against the cement floor, waiting for his opponent to climb over the ropes and enter the arena. The air was thick and hot from the muggy night’s humidity and the crowds incessantly loud cheering. The arena was dimly lit around the stans, all light coming from a giant overhead, casting grimmy light over the blood splatters that stained the rough concrete.

His opponent entered the ring, eyes flashing in the light, lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin. Techno’s anxiety shot from his stomach to his heart, this man was like a tank, tall with bulky limbs and long flat sword.

Techno pushed his worries away, he had taken on opponents bigger then himself before, just not that big, but they needed the money, he had to win this.

They both walked to the middle of the platform, shook hands, the other man gripping too tightly to be friendly, then they turned and walked back to their starting places.

The buzzer sounded and the man shot forwards, sword swinging in an arch, Techno’s sword clashed with his, metal screeching pierced the air as the man tried to overpower Techno, putting his weight on the sword.

Techno kicked him in the knee, the man sputtered and slipped, allowing Techno to dodge to the side then ram into the man, sending him to the ground. He moved to slash his sword at the man’s neck and fake out the audience then the duel finished, quick and easy if the man stayed down for the three count.

Suddenly the man lashed out and landed a kick square into Techno chest, sending him reeling. Techno scrambled to his feet, stifling a groan. His ribs protesting vehemently, sending shockwaves of fire through his chest, he watched as the other man rolled back onto his feet.

The man, Techno heard the crowd cheering ‘Go Thrasher!’, ran at him again, opting to not overpower him but overwhelm him, he swung wildly, he obviously never had any training.

Techno took the defensive, slash, stab, dodge, block, kick back, and repete, analyzing Thrasher’s fighting style, his patterns and goto movements. Once he memorized the motions he switched to offense, changing his own patterns as well, quick slashes and jabs, forcing Thrasher back, Techno would kick at the man’s legs then go back to swinging.

In a ditch effort Thrasher whipped his sword around only for Techno to kick it out of his hands, sending it flying. Techno slammed into the man once again, taking advantage of his distraction, and knocked him to the ground.

He pointed his sword at the man’s neck, looking down the blade at Thrasher, the crowd around him screaming, “Go Blade go!” He tried to keep his face emotionless, waiting for the announcer to call it off.

Thrasher wasn’t giving up, he kicked at Techno again, who half dodged half stumbled away. Thrasher moved faster then Techno had even seen, Techno lashed out, slicing his arm but it didn’t faze Thrasher. Rage blazing in his eyes he jumped on Techno and knocked him to the ground, half pinning him, a knee on one of Techno’s arms, knocking his sword away.

Thrasher punched him across the face, Techno’s head jerked to the side, pain flaring in his face, nausea rising in his gut as the man reared back and hit him again and again.

Techno weakly grabbed for his sword but came up short, his vision was blurring, hot blood dripped down his face, matting his hair. In a last ditch effort, he threw a punch, aiming for Thrasher's throat, he hit his target dead on and hard.

Thrasher gasped and faltered, his grip loosen and Techno took his chance. He yanked himself away and sent another kick to the man's chest, scrambling towards his sword.

He didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t win this, the adrenaline would wear off soon and he’d lose, he wouldn’t be able to fight after this, he’d have to go home empty handed. That thought alone made him feel even more sick.

Thrasher rose to his feet, breathing heavily, Techno got into a weak stance, prepared to go down fighting. You weren’t allowed to kill in the duels but Techno was scared Thrasher would chuck those rules out the window. Thrasher’s fists were clenched, cracked and bloody at his sides, fire in his eyes, he let out a roar. Techno’s grip on his sword tightened and he prepared to swing-

The buzzer sounded.

The fight lasted 10 minutes, the announcer called it a draw. The audience booed and complained as Techno went to shake hands with Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at Techno’s hand in disgust before slapping it away, “You fight dirty, freak.” He growled, Techno scowled but bit his tongue and flipped Thrasher off and stalked off as dignified as he could with the room spinning like a toy top.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the sidelines and chugged it when one of the organizers threw a small pouch at him.

“You’re off your game,” The women commented lazily, not looking up from her clipboard, “I expected better.”

“Then you hop on in there,” Techno grumbled, not making eye contact as he pocketed the pouch, he sheathed his sword.

“I’d rather die,” She said, eyes flickering up from the page, “Just like you almost did.”

Techno snorted, “Please,” He said, shouldering his bag and walking towards the bathrooms, “I neva die.”

He somehow managed to get to the bathroom without collapsing, he pushed open the door and stumbled over to the sinks. He gripped the edge tightly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, he looked up at the mirror and realized he was fucked.

There was a gross cut on his hairline, trickling blood down his face, the right side of his face was covered in blooming bruises, blood from his nose smeared down his chin, he looked like a mess.

He felt like a mess.

Techno grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet then scrubbed it against down his chin and along his hairline, ignoring the sting. He dried his face off then filled up his water bottle, dreading the fact that he couldn’t hide this from his family. He hoped to get home before Wilbur or Tommy woke up, he knew he couldn’t avoid Phil, he got up extra early to be able to commute to work.

Techno started home, not bothering to stay for any other duels, he wouldn’t be able to win, not in the state he was in anyways. He squeezed past the security guards and tried not to fall while walking, the trip home only should have been around forty minutes but between his slow pace and stopping to take breaks so he wouldn’t pass out it took him over 2 hours to get back.

The rusty metal stair squeaked as Techno climbed them, they groaned as he put his weight on the railing, god he wanted to lay down.

He unlocked the door, trying to push it open as quietly as possible, of course the door made that impossible as it creaked loudly.

The door cast a shadow on the soft light coming from the kitchen, Techno could hear dishes clicking quietly.

“Hey Tech,” Phil said, as Techno locked the door again, “You’re back later then usual-” He stopped, staring at Techno’s face, Techno immediately put his hands up, “Now I know what you’re thinking but let me just say; it’s not that bad.”

“Sit,” Phil said, setting his coffee cup down, Techno rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. “Yeah I saw that coming,”

“Please tell me the other guys looks worse,” Phil prodded at the bruises on Techno’s face, Techno shrugged.

“Please tell me you didn’t get your face fucked up for nothing,”

“I hope? I mean I got a few good hits in, oh that reminds me,” Techno leaned over, rummaging through his bag for money pouch,

He immediately regretted it because it made the room spin again. He grumbled but found the pouch and tossed it on the table.

”It’s not a lot but it’s something,” Techno trailed off, he could have stayed longer, fought harder, been more useful but a few bruises sent him running back home. “I can go back tomorrow, get us more-”

“What? You’re not going back, you look like shit!” Phil said incredulously, checking the cut along his hairline,

“But we need the money,”

“We’ll get by,” Phil’s eyes narrowed, mouth in a tight line.

“That’s a lie-”

“No it’s not,”

“Phil I’m not stupid we need more and I can go back, tonight was just an off, when I go back I can get us more-”

“You’re not going back!” Phil said firmly, “You’ll get hurt again-”

“It’ll be worth it-”

“No! It’s not! Nothing is worth you getting this hurt!” Phil snapped, he took a breath, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry it’s- it’s just not worth it, you need to be okay too, you deserve to be okay.”

Techno sat there, not sure what to say. Phil looked at the clock and swore under his breath, “Shit, I’m gonna be late,” He grabbed his coat, “I’ll see you later, take it easy, alright?” Techno nodded as Phil walked out the door.

He sits there for a minute, not sure what to do, he wants to sleep for 45 hours but he is also hungry. He opted to grab a banana when he hears Wilbur yell from the other room;

“Tommy brush your hair!” The bedroom door opened, “No! It looks fine!” He didn’t notice Techno as he walked into the bathroom, Wilbur followed him out a moment later.

“Hey Wil,”

“Hey Tech, you're up earlier and oh my god are you okay?” He trailed off to the next point, gesturing gingerly at Techno’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise,” Techno said again, putting his hands up and rolling his eyes. Wilbur nodded, they stood there for a moment before Wilbur asked;

“Did Phil flip out?”

“Oh yeah definitely,”

“Well, at least something’s normal,” Techno snorted.

“Hey Wilbur, we’re low on toothpaste again-” Tommy said, coming out of the bathroom, he looked at Techno and trailed off.

“Uh, Techno, You’ve got a little something,” Tommy gestured to his own face, hand hovering over the whole right side, “on your face, like everywhere.”

Techno snorted and smiled softly, “Thanks for telling me nerd,”

“What happened?”

“Not important,” Techno said, grabbing an orange from their fruit bowl, tossing it at Tommy, who caught it with ease, “What is important is that you’re gonna be late for school, now get going.” He hadn’t told Tommy about the arena fights, he didn’t know how Tommy would react and he didn’t want to encourage it or risk it.

“No I’m not, you’re just avoiding the question!” Tommy protested, jamming his finger into the skin of the orange.

“You sure about that?” Techno nodded to the clock on the wall, 7:06.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Tommy said, Wilbur slapped the back of his head, “Language,”

“What come on! You say it all the time!”

“Yeah cause I’m older then you, now grab your shit,”

“Now you're just rubbing it in!” Tommy said, grabbing his backpack off the hook by the door.

“You’re right, now let’s go, I’ll walk to you,” Wilbur stopped in the doorway, Techno could hear the creaks of the stairs as Tommy jumped down. Wilbur looked at Techno, eyes soft.

“Go to sleep Tech, you look like you need it,”

“Well I was going to but now that you said that, I think I’ll stay up,” He teased, Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“If you aren’t asleep by the time I get back I will crush you,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Techno shot back as Wilbur closed the door, locking it.

The banana forgotten and set back on the counter, Techno slipped his shoes and laid down, hoping the others wouldn’t worry too much, he fell asleep almost immediately.

133 notes · View notes

moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 16

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Talk of rape, misogynist views of women, degrading language.

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Young lady I have had it with you!"

You groaned and ran a hand through your hair, knowing the angry voice of your mother wasn't a good sign. You leaned back in your bed, plopping down against the pillow. 3...2...1…

Your door swung open and a red faced version of your mother reared her head into the room. She was fuming, and you knew it was all because of you.

"After all I've done for you! I've fed you, raised you, dealt with each and every temper tantrum, and this is how you repay me? By denying me this one thing I ask of you?!" Your mother exclaimed. You knew better than to respond just yet. That would just fuel the fire.

"Don't I deserve happiness too?" She wailed, very quickly trying to guilt trip you. "I've done so much for you, and the one second I ask you to do something so simple you shove it right back in my face." She fake sobs, giving you crocodile tears. You want more than anything to prove her wrong. To point out that all of your life has been products of her decisions and her orders. You've barely ever gotten a single damn choice.

But that was what she wanted. For you to break and disrespect her so she could force you to say yes. It's what she did. She loved to manipulate you. But now that you were older, you knew all of her tricks. And you'd be damned if you were going to fall for them again.

"I want to marry for love, mother. Not a man I barely know. All he's done is send me creepy letters." You respond calmly, noticing she was waiting for a response.

"Pah! Love! There is no such thing as love! He's a nice man! Those letters are love letters! You should feel special that you're getting anything at all!" Your mother screeched, putting demanding hands on her hips.

"The letters are creepy, mother. He threatens you and father if I don't marry him. He just threatened Arthur in the last one. I had to get a completely different cell phone because he wouldn't stop calling me."

"Well then that just proves to you why you should marry him! He wants you! What girl would want anything else?" Your mother insisted, causing the boiling rage inside of you to grow hotter and hotter.

"Me, Mother. I want more than just him wanting me. There were plenty of guys in highschool that wanted me, even in my young age. And you said no. They were of higher status too. So what fits your criteria, mother? Anyone I want to be with isn't an option?" You challenged, growling at your mother as you stood up and faced her.

"You will not speak to me like this. Now, Peter is here to see you. You will go down and speak with him, no exceptions!" Your mother dropped that bomb on you before exiting the room with a slam of the door.

You stood there in shock, unsure of what to even do. He was here. He has threatened to hurt your brother if you don't say yes the next time he asks. You were certain he would ask again this time. But you didn't want this. Whatsoever. You wanted freedom. You wanted to experience life for a few years before even considering settling down and having a family. Which Peter wanted right away. He wanted you as a housewife cooped up in one of his properties knocked up and barefoot. He said so in a number of his letters. The thought disgusted you.

So what were you to do now? There wasn't a way out. It had been a year since he'd first proposed. You were so close. But to get there you knew he would hurt your brother. Your family. And blame it all on you.

You sighed. This was really the only way.

You found a dress that he had sent you and slipped into its revealing fabric. You hated the plunging neckline and the sex appeal of the dress, but you knew it would help with this final sacrifice. Make him believe you.

You slid your hands over your dress to smooth it all out before you quickly put your hair down and headed down to the gardens where you knew he would be. It had been his favorite place to wait for you. To watch you in your window.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, breathing heavily. You felt almost dizzy with nervousness as you continued down the stairs and down the corridor that headed to the gardens.

You could do this. At least, you hoped you could.

The sunlight shined into your eyes as you entered the garden, seeing his sunscorched hair glimmering from all the gel that he used.

You swallowed nervously before approaching him. He didn't turn his head for a few moments, making you think he hadn't noticed you. You stop beside him, swallowing again.

A few moments pass until he finally speaks up. "I see you've finally listened to your master and worn the dress I bought you." He comments. Of course that's what he noticed first.

"Yes, I wore it. But I am not your property." You hiss.

"Touchy subject, I suppose. Have you considered my offer?" He slyly spoke. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled sharply.

"Yes." You begin. Peter raises an eyebrow, turning around to face you.

"And?"

"I…" you start, unable to continue from the pounding of your heart ringing in your ears.

"Remember what I told you, pet." He replies lowly, walking up to you. You let your head fall and you look down at his shoes, finding them much more interesting.

"Look at me when I speak to you, bitch!" He sneered, slapping you in the face. You widen your eyes at the sudden violence and look at him in shock, slowly raising your posture to straighten.

Then, Peter pulls out a knife and holds it against your neck. "You say no to me one more time, you deny me what I paid for, I will kill everyone in your family. Your mother. Your father. Even little Artie." He threatens. You feel a twinge of rage strike you as he called your brother by the nickname only you were allowed to call him.

"You know what? This time, I think I'll kill you. Tell your mother an assassin came by, and I tried to stop him." Peter faked a sad and distraught expression. You felt disgusted just by watching him. He let out a cackle as he continued.

"Then I'll tell them you had finally said yes. So they'll give me the company. Unless… you want to say yes now and avoid all of that nonsense." Peter smiled cruelly.

You had nothing. Have nothing. You couldn't do anything without losing. So you answered him. Said what he wanted to hear.

"Y-yes." You whispered, feeling tears immediately build up behind your eyes. Peter then grinned evilly.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you quite right."

"I said yes, you bastard. I-" you caught on a sob in your throat, making you gulp. "I'll marry you…"

You didn't think his smile could get any wider, but it did. He let out his version of a triumphant sigh and he reached forward, touching your belly. You almost recoiled immediately, wanting to run on instinct.

"I can't wait to knock this body up, make you have my sons. Because you belong to me."

You felt like it was the beginning of the end. And unfortunately, it was.

○●♡●○

Derek slowly woke from his forced nap with a quiet groan. His mind hadn't caught up with him yet, and he began to look around aimlessly for a moment. He could barely see anything, because it was all too blurry. Damn, he must have a concussion.

He could feel the car bumping along the road, hitting what seemed to be a hundred different potholes. They must really be heading off road.

Morgan went to rub his eyes, but found he couldn't. His hand wouldn't move away from his other. Then he felt the dig and the burn of the rope against his skin. And he remembered.

Why this SOB didn't use Derek or your handcuffs, he didn't know. What he did know, was that these knots were complex, and would take a minimum of five minutes to even get loose. By then Peter would already know he was awake. Morgan didn't want him to know that piece of information just yet. He wanted to see where they were going. See if he could figure out a way back if he managed to get you out.

Morgan let his head hang to not draw any attention to himself. He looked over to you, finding your image growing clearer as the minutes passed. You were still in what you were wearing when Peter kidnapped you both, so Derek felt a wash of relief that Peter hadn't tried anything with you yet.

His eyes trailed from you to the front seat, where he could hear terrible singing with the song American Idiot. He tried not to make any noticeable faces, but still couldn't stop the grimace from forming on his face. Morgan used what little dexterity he had to try and feel for his phone. Thankfully, he still had it. But he didn't know if this psychopath had some sort of detector for a phone that's on, so he didn't dare try. Even if he promised he'd try to keep it on for Garcia.

"So, you decide to wake up finally?"

Morgan jumped slightly, lifting his head up. Peter looked at him through the rearview mirror. Derek fought the urge to sneer at him, settling on an unpleasant look instead.

"Good, I'll need you awake so she doesn't think I killed you. If she does, she'll run. And then you're really gonna be dead." Peter sneered. Derek swallowed a very tempting profanity word to call this bastard. Did he seriously think she belonged to him? Like he owned her?

Morgan stayed quiet, watching the trees that flew by the window. He was trying to figure something out. But the throbbing in his knee and the pounding in his head was inhibiting his every instinct.

So instead, he just focused on trying to untie his bonds. He knew based on the loops and how complex the damn knot felt, it was going to take awhile. So he started slowly so as to not make Peter aware of what he was doing.

Slowly though, you awoke beside Peter, looking up into the windshield. You noticed the growing bruise beside your eye and the swelling of a lump on your head. You, unlike Morgan, had no restraints. You merely had a seatbelt over you. You turned your head slowly towards the door, and noticed the lock and unlock feature plus the handle had been completely ripped out, making it impossible to open the door from the inside.

"Good, you're awake too. That means we can finally discuss your purpose once we get to where you'll be staying for however long until it takes." Peter spoke up. You knew immediately what he meant, making you instinctively cross your legs and press them together tightly.

"Please, that doesn't mean anything to me. If I have to force one in you I will. So do us both a favor and get used to being a submissive breeder." Peter spat, making you swallow harshly.

"She isn't some dog, Peter. She won't just lay down and take it." Morgan practically spat. Peter gritted his teeth.

"Really? And that's not what you did? Or at the very least that wasn't what you wanted to do?" Peter asks, glaring back at Morgan with a hateful look.

"No, damn it. I don't ever think about wanting to do that. To anyone." Morgan growled. He was already digging his own grave. But that didn't mean he was digging yours.

"Jesus, when did you get so soft? Women are men's property. They should obey us. And the sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you'll be able to accept it." Peter hissed. "You know what? I think I might just show you what I mean once we get to where I'm taking you both. Show you how a man treats what belongs to him."

Morgan almost cursed audibly. What did he just do?

○●♡●○

Spencer was the first one Hotch notified. And he was the first one to burst into the BAU determined to get you back. Now it was 11 hours later, and they had nothing. Nothing other than the stupid letter that had no DNA on it. Garcia had tried to look things up on Peter, but since he was so rich, he had someone erase all of his personal information off the web permanently. Meaning not even Garcia could find it.

"Reid, are you alright?" Hotch asked, entering the conference room where Spencer was hunched over the letter and a written account of what he remembered you told him about Peter. And your past with him.

"Does it look like, I'm alright, Hotch? On average in the US about 62,823 women over the age of 21 are abducted in a year. Each of those women have their own stories a-and--And I didn't do anything to stay here with her, it could-ve been me with her. Instead of Morgan. I should've been there--" Spencer began to ramble for what he felt was the millionth time that morning. And you had only just been taken the night before.

"Reid." Hotch interrupts.

"What? What could be so important that I need to turn away from trying to analyze this letter to try and find any sort of information on Calvin? To bring both of them back?" Spencer questioned, feeling his words drip with unintentional venom.

"That's what I needed to speak to you about. We're all working hard to get them back, Reid. But we're working in shifts. And I believe you need a break. Even if it's small." Hotch attempted. Spencer groaned and pulled at his hair, tapping his pen against the table furiously.

"No, Hotch. I don't need a damn break. I need to find them! Find (Y/N/N)!" Spencer exclaimed, tossing his pen at the table in frustration.

"Reid, I know. We're all frustrated too. We have an APB out on his car and his license plate. He can't go far without drawing attention. We'll find her, Reid. Find her and Morgan. But we can't do that if you don't take a break." Hotch reaffirms. Spencer tightened his fist at his side. He sincerely wished he had some sort of stress ball in his hand so that he wouldn't be about to break a pen. But that wasn't in his abilities as a magician.

"Hotch, you don't understand. She trusted me. Me! I was the first person she told about him and look where that got her! I failed her, Hotch! I said I'd protect her! Keep her safe! When she didn't come back to the apartment last night I panicked, okay? But I didn't get off my goddamn ass to go find her!" Spencer felt like he was going nuts inside his own head. Like he finally got his mother's schizophrenia and he was hallucinating all of this.

"Reid… I may be your boss, but I also hope to be your friend. I know how you feel about her." Hotch informed, catching Spencer’s attention. "She would want you looking, yes. But she wouldn't want you destroying yourself in the process. Think of her, Spencer. You need a break. We need fresh eyes on this, and that's the only way you can try to obtain them. This case will still be worked on with or without you."

Spencer looked down at the now black inked mark on his hand from the broken pen, feeling some of the anger begin to fizzle down.

"You know the only reason I have you on this case is because of the information she shared with you."

Spencer knew that was true. If he didn't, Hotch would have made him take the next however many days off until they found her.

"All due respect, Hotch, but all I care about right now? Is finding her. And finding Morgan. I'm not going to quit now nor will I quit tomorrow. I've lost too many people, Hotch. I'm not going to lose her too. I can't." Spencer spoke up again, turning his gaze from the floor to Hotch's eyes.

Aaron sighed and looked at the ground. "Spencer, why don't you go do something? Go home, eat something and take a shower. Then I'll clear you to continue this case. Until then, I will not let you touch another piece of evidence."

"Hotch-!" Spencer began.

"I'm doing this for your best interest and theirs. We need you completely focused on this case, Reid. We need you without distractions. This is the best way I can think of to achieve that." Hotch insists. "Now go home, or I will make Rossi escort you downstairs." Hotch orders before he leaves the room, leaving Spencer in shambles. He was usually useful in so many cases because of his 'genius'. But right now, he felt like he had an IQ of 3 when it came to trying to help find you.

He sighed. Hotch was right. Once he had some coffee and some food maybe he'd be of more help. Of more open mind.

He just hoped they'd find you before it was too late. The thought chilled his spine in a way he hated, that made him feel nauseated. No, he couldn't think like that. They were going to find you. They had to. You were counting on him and he couldn't let you down.

After all, he did love you, didn't he?

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader fanfic #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds family

80 notes · View notes

chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (20)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

All artists have a muse. An inspiration. Motivation, unwavering will. A signature of their own. It’s impossible to copy the work of an artist, because he always leaves a part of himself, a small detail, whether in the choice of shapes, lines, colors, etc., which allows us, little observers to recognize his work. We could take the example of Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Sandro Botticelli, Michelangelo, Andy Warhol and finally Salvador Dali. All these artists had a particular signature, a little something that made their works unique, inimitable. Yet many have tried to reproduce them in order to make money. And even if some of them succeeded, they quickly found themselves behind bars.

But Danny is an... Particular artist. His works are particularly... Bloody. Certainly, he’s an assassin, but an assassin who wants to leave behind a trace of his passage, a piece of him in this vast world. Something that will remind everyone that he existed. At least Ghostface existed. But if every artist has a muse... What's Danny's muse? To tell the truth... He's got two. The first is simply envy. His insatiable urge for blood, to hear the gentle howls of his victims and to see the authorities tearing their hair out in the face of the lack of clues, is the reason he does this. As for his second muse...

Well, his second muse is you. For him, you are a precious jewel that he must protect at any price. No one should approach you and he won't let anyone near you. Of course, you will have the right to have friends, but don't plan to spend too much time without him. Besides, he feels frustrated that you prefer Jed to him. His alter ego is so boring compared to him! And yet how many times did he tell you? How many times did he tell you to think carefully?

And yet you chose Jed. But what happened that night ... He will remember it forever. Those little chills he felt on your skin when his tongue ran through your belly, your chest. And your little moans...A twisted smile appeared on his face just thinking about it. He's going to make you languish, but he's going to enjoy himself. And if you change your mind... it is beyond the seventh heaven that he will take you.

But for now, he has a more urgent matter to deal with. Because tonight is the big night. Everything was ready. Hoggins had brought charges to McKellan, who of course had retaliated strongly. How does Danny know? It's a journalist don't forget it. During one of his nightly visits, he had spied on a conversation between the two men and judging by McKellan's tone, the exchange was muscular.

“it's been so long that I've been waiting for this moment ... You dared to attack my angel in front of me. It's time for you to pay. I'm going to make you the best masterpiece ever created." He said, looking at McKellan house.

He had checked everything. He knew everything by heart. The round of the guards, the presence of the camera, McKellan's habits... absolutely everything. No surveillance camera.... humph, he thinks he's so untouchable that he doesn't feel the need to have security cameras. Poor fool. You're going to bitterly regret your arrogance. And Hoggins is going to pay the price.

It does not enchant Danny to attribute this murder to another, but if it is to see Wilhelm go round in circles, the game is worth it. He had parked his van in a place well out of sight. McKellan's villa is a staple, isolated from the city. No neighbourhood, no one to see or hear anything except the guards. Danny will never understand the rich and their desire to get away from people. Even if in a way, it feels good to have nothing around you, except the birdsong and the rustling of the leaves. But for these people, it's mostly a way not to mix with the "plebe".

He put on his mask and proceeded to the villa discreetly. It's time for the show. It's time for the massacre. From the bushes of the rear terrace, he watched the guards stationed. He knows that in a few minutes they will move to the sides and go around up to him. He must therefore move forward without being spotted to the building. And indeed after a few minutes, the guards moved. They always start at the inside of the terrace before returning from the outer sides. It was therefore cautiously but without concern that Danny advanced, not without paying attention to the flashlight that often came in his direction. Once near the walls, he glanced inside.

As expected, it was impossible to get in from the back as the number of guards was too large. But he knows where McKellan's office is, and he knows that in exactly 20 minutes, he's going to go to his office and lock himself in and listen to music. He always puts the volume to the fullest, a significant advantage since so no one will hear him scream. He will be the only one who has the privilege of hearing it. Perfect. Once he's dead, Danny will have exactly 1 hour to make his masterpiece and leave because the guards will start suspecting a problem because of the music. Obviously, their boss listens to it every day for the same time. So, if it goes beyond the usual time slot, it's not normal.

Danny passed on the right side of the villa, on the side of which McKellan's office should be. And indeed, the second window of the office is open, surely to ventilate the room. He climbed to the gutter and clung to the balcony to enter the room. And the least we can say, is that this was to be the richest room in the house. He had something in common with Hoggins.

The walls were white marble making the room brighter. The many decorations in gold and red, as well as carpet flooring of the same color, recalled the time of ancient Rome. The few sculptures also for that matter.

“A passionate man of Ancient Rome... that will make my pleasure even more... Living. He will not only be my best masterpiece... but also the masterpiece of this room. It would almost bother me to soil this place of his filthy carcass and pig's blood. But he has to pay for touching and insulting my little angel...my precious love.” He said looking all around the room.

He saw multiple objects that could be used for him, including multiples knife that look much sharper than his own. He could steal them but Ghostface is not a thief. He had taken a rope that he had found in the garden shed a few nights earlier. Like all the strings he took... this one will help him keep his "work" still.

He had the diagram of his artistic project in mind, with every little detail, of what he was going to cut to what he was going to leave whole ... Nothing much. He looked where he could hide and wait to strike. The cabinet in front of the desk will be the ideal hiding place. As soon as he will be close enough... he will catch him. Suddenly he heard footsteps. McKellan is on his way. Danny hides in the cupboard and waited. McKellan entered, furious as ever.

“Hoggins asshole... after all the services I have rendered to you to enrich yourself like a fat pig, you dare to accuse me?? I should cut your balls off... And this little whore and her damn coffee... not only has it not closed but it also gains in reputation! I'm surrounded by fools.” He said heading to the CD player. “Maybe I should kidnap her and torture her...or sell her as a prostitute...I’m sure that she can make a lot of money...”

Danny's blood was boiling. How dare he imagine for a second making you a toy for filthy fat pigs??? For a bonus profit??? He wanted to jump on him now, he wanted to slit his throat, butcher him, tear him to pieces... But if he goes out now, the guards will hear him and his whole plan will fall apart. He's got to stay calm. He's got to stick to the plan. As soon as he's at the cabinet level... he can attack. McKellan set the music on and turned the sound loud enough for the guards outside the room to hear it. Either he's deaf or he's crazy. Or both.

He stood for a few minutes in front of the reader before starting to "waltz" with his eyes closed. He reached the level of the cabinet and once in his line of sight, Danny went out to knock him out with a blow. He used the rope to tie him to the chair. He knows that from now on, he has 1 hour to do what he has to do. And he intends to take advantage of it. McKellan awoke after five minutes, trying to get away. The music was too loud for anyone to hear, so he looked at the knives but was quickly attract by a sinister sneer.

“Well, well... You finally woke up. You have a beautiful office. In fact, you have a very nice house, I would almost be jealous if it were not yours. Such a beautiful home for a rotten man like you... It's a shame.” said Danny, playing with his knife.

“You...I should be honoured by your presence... but unfortunately, I'm not very friendly with psycho like you. Hoggins sent you, didn't he? he's just a bastard.” Said McKellan with disgust.

“Sorry to tell you, but I'm not a man you can hire... I am acting and I will always act on my own. See if I'm here... it's because you and I have to settle.” Replied Danny before sticking his knife in McKellan's leg, making him scream.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!!! I’M GONNA CUT YOU HEAD OUT!!!!

“You see... You attacked someone very precious to me... and if there is one thing, I hate more than anything in this world... is that a rotten man like you, touch on what belongs to me. I'm sure you're wondering who I'm talking about. The "whore" as you like to call her, the boss of the Nebula... No luck for you... She's mine. And I'm going to make you regret every word you say. I hope you enjoyed your last musical moments... But don't worry... I intend to make you the masterpiece of your collection. And my best signing. Let the show begin.

He cut off the leg where he had planted the knife, with a dry blow, recovering it before it fell to the ground. He did the same with the second and put it all on the desk. He stopped for a few seconds to listen to McKellan's delicious screams about the "tragic" loss of both legs. What sweet music to his ears... But unfortunately, he can't enjoy it very long, he has a countdown to respect.

“Oh... It hurts? I'm really sorry... I should have gone more slowly to lengthen the pleasure. But don't worry... I still have material. And limbs to cut you up. It's too bad you can't see that.”

“Please please ! I... I will give much more If you kill Hoggins for me! I can make you the richest and the happiest man in this pathetic city! All the women will fall at your feet! You don't need that little slut! She's good for nothing! Just a little whore who thinks she's going to make a career!”

" I don't think you understood. I'm going to tell you one last time. One...” Danny started, planting his knife in one of McKellan’s arms. “I don't work for ANYBODY. If you think I'm just a puppet, I want you to know that I'm just for myself. I'm only doing this for my one and only pleasure. Never, and I say NEVER, would I work for anyone, even less for a rotten man of your kind. But if it makes you feel any better, Hoggins is going to come and keep you company in hell. Two...”

He thrust his knife deep into MacKellan’s arm to keep him awake until he finished talking to him. He drew his face closer to his.

“I only need one woman and that's her. I won't let anyone.... ANYONE, treat her like a good-for-nothing. You threatened her, assaulted her, you even sent someone several times to kill her. She is mine and only MINE and I will not let anyone near my angel, you fat pig!”

Danny pulled his knife out of Mackellan’s arm before repeatedly stabbing McKellan's skull. He recoiled inwardly at the sight of this bloodied, lifeless skull. He cut off his arms, then cut off his tongue and cut off his belly like a pig. He took out all these innards, cut them to a certain length and used them to tie his victim once again, one end ending deep in the throat, like a snake coming out of his mouth. He made sure to hold his arms and legs on the top of the skull, like deer antlers. How can he do that? A magician never reveals his secrets. Once his work was finished, Danny took out his camera.

“Look at you, you’re a masterpiece....MY masterpiece! You get exactly what you deserve you Motherf*cker. Now my little angel is safe...Almost if we count me in the lot. Well! Smile for the camera!” Danny said before taking a picture. “Oh, I almost forgot the message! It’s necessary to give a lead to this dear Wilhelm ... even a fake one. Hoggins... You might not like the next few days.”

He wrote a bloody message on one of the walls of the office, leaving the policeman and the guard thinking that Hoggins was the author. One way or another. Then he quickly but discreetly left the premises before the guards were alerted by the unusual extension of the music. He returned to his van, changed, put his Ghostface outfit and mask back in the bag before heading home. On the road, he couldn't help but stop and burst out laughing, a laugh as he thought about what he had just done. The adrenaline was still running through his veins, he could not calm down.

He took a few minutes to calm down, then take the road again and went home. He parked and looked at your window. Everything was off and given the time, it was normal. Everyone was asleep, no one to testify anything to the police. Everything is always perfect. He went up to his apartment, entered, closed the door and walked to his office with his bag in his hand. He put it all down on the couch and looked at his hunting board, a satisfied smile on his lips.

He took his red felt, which was still working despite the rage of the last time, and bared McKellan's face with a long cross. That's it. He's finally dead. And there's more to kill. Hoggins is next on the list. But Danny will let time pass before attacking him. For now, he's going to focus on you. His sweet little star, his precious love, his angel. He looked at his bag, perhaps a little visit is necessary? Anyway, you sleep then ... you're not likely to say much.

A light cool wind entered your room, but it didn't seem to bother you. You were warm in your duvet with a radiant smile on your lip. Danny, or rather Ghostface was above you, a big smile behind his mask. He stayed for a few minutes without moving before lifting his mask slightly to kiss your cheek delicately.

“You can finally sleep easy, my angel. That fat pig won't do anything to you anymore. But never forget that you belong to me. Sleep well my love, hoping I'll be in your dreams.” he whispered so you don't wake up.

He put a small piece of paper on your nightstand to warn you of McKellan's death. The word is simple: "He's dead." He knows you will understand who it is. He left as discreetly as he had come, to go to bed as well, despite the little adrenaline he had left. It's going to be a long night.

But Damn it was so delicious.

***

(I'm practically about to pass my code exam! I'm so happy! hoping we won't be confined to the date where I'll pass it. I want to thank you all as much as you are, you are almost 40 to follow the poor little French potato that I am! In the meantime, I hope you will love this chapter as much as the others! they all deserve to be appreciated so much! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

16 notes · View notes

bradie-valentine · 3 years

Text

To Live in a House That is Haunted

By Bradie Valentine

The afternoon sun bakes me through the windshield as I drive towards Leah’s house. She hasn’t answered my texts in a couple of days. Not that unusual for her, even before this silence. And yet I’m still on my way to check on her. We’ve been basically inseparable since we bonded over our family troubles in grade three and this is the longest we haven’t seen each other since then. The quiet from her side of our friendship has gestated long enough.

When I pull up to her house, a wave of unease washes over me. The house looks almost the same as it usually does, but just slightly off. The grass is way too long and I can see a pile of mush near the mailbox, the storms of summer turning her mail into pulp. As I head towards the house, parting the long grass that tickles my legs, I notice the stack of oak she bought a few months ago. The wood is bloated and full of wet rot, another victim of the January showers.

Don’t get me wrong, Leah has always been quiet, reserved. But this is different. Besides the occasional ‘I’m still alive’ text, I’ve barely interacted with her in the past two months. I can’t exactly blame her though. I can understand why she hasn’t been feeling very social. Her husband, Brian, died two months ago; the death of Leah’s voice immediately following.

I was with her that day, the day cops turned up to deliver the news. We were in the lounge room, chatting about Leah’s upcoming carpentry projects when there was a knock at the door. Leah answered it, there was some muffled chatter and then a sorrowful screech, like an animal caught in a trap. I leapt up from the couch just in time to see Leah collapse in on herself. The strong statue of the woman I knew, reduced to a pile of discarded tissues; delicate and tear soaked.

It was a freak accident that killed her Brian. A bump on the head at work. Rushed to the hospital, and he was dead on arrival. We found out later that the knock had popped a massive aneurysm that was nesting between the folds of his brain.

I take a deep breath and rap on the door a couple times but Leah doesn’t answer. I pause for a few seconds, knock, pause again, and knock again. I pull out my phone and text her, a drop of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. The heat and worry working together to slick my skin. I try calling too, but the phone rings out. Usually I wouldn’t bother worrying over Leah, but since Brian, grief has metamorphosed her, leeching both her light and strength. I think I should go, maybe come back later, but then I notice the sound of music. Leonard Cohen’s deep voice emanates from within the house. I try the handle and it’s unlocked, as soon as I open the door I get hit with the foulest stench of my life, even worse than when I used to get paid to wash down animal cages at the local vet. The stench clogs my nostrils and makes my mouth water with pre-vomit saliva.

I call out to Leah and get no response in return. Covering my nose, I start down the hallway, passing picture frames filled with photos of the happy couple. I call out again and I still don’t get a reply. Oh god, I should have come sooner. As I approach the bedroom, I hear a buzzing. I can’t place it for a second, and then I realise, it’s flies, a swarm of flies.

It’s all making sense, her favourite album playing, their wedding anniversary is coming up. The stench of sickly sweet death crowding the hallway. Leah has killed herself and now a horde insects are busy getting comfortable in the rancid warmth of her lifeless corpse.

I brace myself, a few steps and I’ll be able to see the bedroom, the carnage Leah has made of herself. And then I hear a laugh, Leah's laugh. The fear mixes with confusion and I’m so disorientated, I stumble the last couple steps forward and then I see them.

Leah is lying on the bed, holding Brian’s hand. It takes me a second to realise that the swollen form on the bed is indeed Brian. The flies have made their home here a while ago. There is a split in Brian’s belly where the gasses of rot have burst him open. Maggots spill off Brian and wiggle across Leah, like they can’t even tell anymore where the death ends and the living begins.

I turn away and run for the kitchen. My stomach is roiling and lurching. I only make it halfway and end up vomiting on the floor. Bile and this morning's toast exploding from my mouth.

“Hi”

I look at Leah. She’s knobbly and bony where she used to be muscular. There’s a stain down the left side of her night gown. It’s yellowy thickness let’s me know it’s broken down fat that has leached out of Brian and onto her. As if he was trying to offer back some of the bulk that weeks in bed have taken from her.

I’m still gagging when she starts talking.

“I dug him up, after the funeral. I brought a shovel with me.”

“Why?”

“I was getting ready for the funeral and all I could think about is how he would be so lonely in the ground. You know how much he hated being without me.”

“Leah, this is fucking crazy, you know that right? I love you but holy shit. You need help Leah… you need serious help.”

She just turns away and walks back to the bedroom.

“Leah, stop! I’m serious.”

She doesn’t listen to me. I follow her down the hallway and watch her climb into bed next to the mass of degrading flesh in a burial suit.

The liquid of his body has seeped into the mattress and the carpet beneath their bed. No one is ever going to be able to scrub him from the carpet or the floor below. An oily stain has spread up the wall above him, a halo made from his desecration. Brian now has a permanence he never had before. I wonder for a second what will happen to this house after they’re gone. Who would even want it now?

“Go away,” She says.

“Leah please”

She stays silent, just staring at Brian’s empty face.

“This is beyond fucked up, I’m getting you out of here. If… if you don’t come with me, I’ll call the police. They’ll be able to drag you out”

There is another long pause, and I almost think she has forgotten I’m here. She’s so clearly out of it.

“Please… please just let me say goodbye” She finally replies, “I need to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say it last time, please“

She leans in close to the bloat and starts whispering. I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. I head for the front door, for fresh air. As I’m walking through the house, I realise all of the pictures on the wall that used to be of parents and cousins and nieces have been replaced.

They’re all of Leah with Brian’s body. All taken in the house. In one, Brian is propped up on the couch. Leah is sitting straight, like she’s posing for a portrait. The self timer on her phone capturing a record of her depravity. The photos all vary in poses and states of decomposition. The latest one I find is of them in bed. Brian already shiny and slick, his body bloated and gnarled. Leah has an arm around him and her head on his chest.

The front door is calling to me, fresh air and a reprieve from the incessant vibration of insect life. I reach for the handle when I notice the frame right by the door. The photo is of Leah, Brian and I at their wedding. It was Leah's favourite of the night, the three of us caught in laughter together. I sigh and head for the lounge room instead, climb the couch and slide open the window, pressing my face to the fly screen, breathing deeply the outside air.

The light tap, tap, tap of Leah’s steps announce her presence in the hallway.

“It’s okay now,” she says, “I got to say goodbye. We can put him back and no one has to know. You don’t have to call the police or anything.”

“Leah, you dug up his body, I can’t just pretend like that didn't happen.”

“Please! If anyone finds out, they’ll put me away. I don’t want to be alone. I lost Brian, I can’t lose everyone else as well.”

She’s just standing there in her yellowed nightgown, hands wringing each other. Leah looks so young, so helpless, like she’s in third grade again. Actually, she reminds me more of myself when I was in third grade. Unsure, broken, needing someone to look after me. Leah was the one who took care of me then, she was my person. Now I have to be that for her.

“Alright,” I say, getting up from the couch, “you get the gloves and aprons, I’ll get the rope.”

Standing in the bedroom, decked out in aprons, gloves, and face masks, we stare at the pile of flesh on top of the mattress. Assessing the best course of action, I really stare at Brian. Once a man, a great man at that, he is now somewhere between human and object. Tender and fragile, a bag of rot. Meat, past its use by date. A spoiled egg, one sharp prod and he’ll pop like a runny yolk. We have to be gentle.

Next to the bed, we lay the blue tarp I grabbed from the shed across the floor. Leah climbs up beside Brian, the movement jostles him, shaking the fluid filling his skin, wobbling like an oversized hot water bottle. Bracing myself over the tarp we grab his arms and pull him towards the ground, our fingers sink into his raw sausage meat arms. He slips from our hands a couple inches from the floor, with a wet slap he hits the ground. We rear back, and Leah spews a startled cry. The gash in Brian’s stomach yawns wider and a rush of melted organs spill from his open body; a thick grotesque puff of odour erupting with it. Following closely behind, a swarm of flies and maggots escape his bodily cavity, startled from their reverie.

Shocked still for a moment, we spring to life and scramble out of the room and slam the door shut. Leah slides to the floor, moaning and crying.

“What do we do now?” She asks me.

Dropping to the floor, I gather her gently into my lap. Trying not to think about bits of Brian swill getting all over me, I pat her matted hair.

“We take care of you now, the way you took care of Brian, the way you’ve taken care of me. Whatever that means.”

“Okay,” she says, “okay.”

Once Leah is soundly asleep, I dial triple zero. The operator seems a bit surprised by the situation I describe.

“My friend dug up her husband’s dead body and had been living with it for two months, can you send an ambulance over?”

“Uh, yeah. Right away.”

Once again, Leah and I are startled by a knock at her front door. I’m the one who answers it this time. Leah stands at the end of the hallway, she must look frightening to these strangers. Gaunt and covered in sludge, sticky with the putrid stench of the death that was stewing in that once pristine bedroom. They’re gentle with her, she goes with them willingly. We finally get outside, the freshness of the crisp air disorientating. Leah stops and turns to me.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this,” she says.

“Anytime,” I say.

We both laugh a little bit.

“Leah?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be okay. Eventually, things will be better.”

“I know,” She says, “will you be okay, without me around?”

I think it’s a joke. Her, also trying to lighten the mood. I answer her seriously anyway.

“Yes, Leah. I think I will.”

#shortstories #shortstory #bradievalentine #originalwork #originalstory #writer #author

2 notes · View notes

ladyanput · 4 years

Text

Seeing Green Ch.9

Alright, here’s the chapter where you all find out I can’t write action scenes worth crap.

Chat Noir had left her alone, shivering in the cold as freezing air blew in through the warehouse's broken windows. Her limbs were beginning to feel numb, and her wrists were raw and bloodied from all of her vicious tugging to try and get free.

She faintly heard the sounds of footsteps and Chat Noir appeared in her vision once again, holding a small plastic bag. He smiled as he knelt beside her once again, blissfully unaware of her growing shivering.

"I got you the perfect outfit now, my lady." Chat grinned excitedly, reminding Marinette of a toddler about to show their messy art to their parents. A very deranged toddler, that is. He pulled a red mask out of the plastic bag, it was obviously made of some felt material and had crudely drawn on black dots. She flinched when Chat put it on her. "There we go, now you're perfect, Ladybug."

"Chat, no, Adrien, please let me go. I- I can't feel my fingers." She begged, then flinched when he got close. He kissed her without even listening to what she said, and when his tongue invaded her mouth, a sob left her.

This was supposed to be her partner, someone she could rely on and fight with until the end. They had been through so much together, yet here he was, lost in some sick fantasy that he refused to let go of. When he pulled back, he had a look of euphoria on his face as he stroked her cheek.

"You taste so sweet, but I alway knew you would be. You're my beautiful Ladybug after all." Chat hummed, reaching into the plastic bag again. He withdrew a pair of silver rings, sliding one onto Marinette's left ring finger, the other onto his own. "There we go… Our own perfect happily ever after."

"What?" She croaked out, her voice dry. She shivered as another cool breeze swept over them.

"I dreamt of us having a big house, three beautiful children… I always knew you were meant for me when you stood up to Hawkmoth on our first day as heroes." He nuzzled her cheek gently, then nuzzled her cold, grey earrings. "I'd rather you be yourself right now, but I can pretend. I always know how to play pretend really well."

"Adrien…" She felt the bile rise in her throat, thoughts of Adrien's past nightly activities flashing in her mind and fear flooded her further. She squirmed when his body pressed close to hers as he cuddled close. Her voice rose in pitch as hysterics set in. "Please.. Please, don't!"

"What?" Chat stopped his kisses on her neck and his green eyes studied her, before widening, looking almost hurt. "Ladybug, I'd never do that to you… I'd never hurt my precious Ladybug."

Marinette closed her eyes and tried to think of Damian, of her friends back at the hotel, of Eva. They must be looking for her, they had to be. They wouldn't leave her alone here, would they? Surely they cared. Right…?

Chat was looming over her face once again, his smile wide. Marinette tried to turn her head away from him, but he forced her chin over and his lips were on hers once again.

---

Nightwing watched helplessly as Robin savagely beat up a thug that had mentioned to them that he had seen a guy in black leather carrying a girl towards the warehouse district.

There was obvious frustration and anger radiating off of Robin, his desperation to find Marinette clear to the rest of the team. They all felt the same, but they couldn't afford to go in rashly and end up getting the girl hurt, especially with the black cat's destructive powers that Tim told him about.

"Robin, that's enough." Batman stepped forward and grabbed Robin's shoulder, pulling him back roughly, leaving the thug curled up in fetal position on the ground. "Killing him won't help us get to her faster."

"He has her. I know the police couldn't find anything, but who the fuck else would have her?!" Robin turned on his father, his body trembling with the rage that just kept bubbling inside of him. Usually he was good with his emotions, of being able to control them, but when Marinette was in trouble all of that training seemed to go out the window. "If he's such a fucking creep that he spies on her at night, what else could he do to her?!"

"Yes, but keep in mind he's most likely transformed, and from what Red Robin saw in those videos, these Miraculous' powers can withstand a lot of damage." Batman shook his head and turned towards the direction of the warehouse district. "Everyone, move. If you see Chat Noir, proceed with extreme caution, we don't want casualties today."

The team made their way towards the warehouse district, eyes peeled for any signs of movement. It was a cold winter's night, the air biting deep and cruel. Worry spiked dramatically as Robin thought of how cold Marinette must be. He was sure the stupid tomcat was too much of an idiot to even think about bringing her winter coat, especially since it was snowing outside.

"I don't see anything down at the south end." Red Hood reported over his comm as he looked into every warehouse that he could. Lots of abandoned warehouses, but no Marinette, and no furry freak.

"Guys, I think I've got something." Black Bat's voice sounded slightly strained as she watched the scene inside of the warehouse from her perch by one of the windows. Marinette tied to a pole by her wrists, shivering hard with her lips looking rather blue. When Batwoman dropped in beside her, she grimaced at the sight of the crude mask put on the young woman's face, or the cat themed hero forcing kisses on the barely conscious girl.

"I want to skin him.." Batwoman hissed through clenched teeth as she watched Chat adjust a bridal style veil onto Marinette's head. "She can barely keep her head up."

Black Bat couldn't respond due to Robin shoving his way past them and rushing his way into the warehouse, sword drawn, a look of murderous intent on his face, Nightwing hot on his heels.

"Robin, wait!"

Chat looked up at the sound of commotion, only to be knocked back and sent flying across the room by a superb kick from Robin. Batman cursed under his breath and when he accepted the planned surprise attack was compromised, went in and joined the rest of them.

Chat got to his feet and brushed off the kick as if he had been swatted with a damp towel. His green eyes narrowed furiously at the sight of the Gotham heroes, his clawed hands curling into fists.

"What are you all doing here? Get away from my Lady!" He snarled when he noticed Red Robin knelt beside Marinette, cutting away the ropes that had cut so deep into her wrists. He made his way towards them, but was intercepted by Black Bat who tackled him. "I'll fucking kill all of you!"

"You had no right to kidnap her!" Black Bat snapped back as she struggled with him, getting right in his face as they both strain in their fighting. "She's not some toy you keep around to play with, pervert!"

She didn't get a chance to react when he wrenched her arm and it popped out of its socket, the air leaving her lungs. Chat then grabbed the back of her head and slammed it down onto the concrete floor, making her see stars.

Red Robin carefully helped Marinette stand, though the shivering girl pressed into him, desperate for any trace of warmth. With a soft curse, he took off his cape and draped it over her shoulders.

"Did he hurt you, Marinette?" He whispered, watching as Robin wailed on Chat, their weapons meeting with loud clashes. Carefully he began moving her towards the entrance of the warehouse.

"No, but… but he…" She swallowed thickly, reaching up and taking off the crude mask and the cheap wedding veil. Red Robin felt disgust at the sight of the ring on her left hand. He slid it off of her finger and tossed it onto the floor. "Just kissing, that was it."

"Let's get you out of here, you're freezing." He whispered, but frowned when she struggled against him.

"No… I need Tikki… to take Chat's ring." Her words slurred, her lashes fluttering as her lids felt heavy, but she took a step towards where Chat was currently trying to strangle Batman.

Chat's gaze rose and he snarled when he saw Marinette was untied. He took a threatening step towards her, but Robin stepped into his path, swinging his sword. The black cat met the sword with his staff and hissed at him.

"You're trying to take her away from me. She's mine, she belongs to me, not some pretty boy spoiled brat." Chat hissed, shoving Robin back only to charge at him. The two struggled as Robin kept getting knocked back by the inhumanly strong cat themed hero, but that only fueled the young assassin's anger.

"She's not property! She doesn't belong to anyone!" Robin snapped, aiming for Chat's head, but stopping short when the cat reached out and grabbed his wrist. This was Ladybug's partner? A guy who acted like he was owed the girl he had feelings for? That he automatically got her because of some stupid delusion of soulmates? "I'll cut your fucking hands off for what you did."

Chat stared at him, before grinning. Then in a swift move, he crushed Robin's hand, then reared back and smashed his head into his.

---

Marinette stumbled her way towards the exit, shivering wildly as Tim supported her. She went to thank him, but he was ripped away from her and sent flying across the room, slamming into one of the concrete poles.

Chat wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him, his expression one of deranged fury.

"If any of you come near us, I'll destroy her. Cataclysm!" Marinette felt the blood drain from her face as he held his powered up hand inches from her face. "If I can't have her, I'll never let anyone else! She's mine, and if I can only join her in the afterlife, so be it!"

"Adrien!" Marinette let out a shrill scream, drawing the attention of the remaining conscious heroes. She struggled, mentally begging for Tikki to hurry and find her. "Adrien, please stop!"

"No!" Chat snarled right in her face, his grip tightening on her, making her wince. "You're mine, Ladybug!"

"She's not Ladybug."

All eyes turned to the warehouse doors as they were thrown open, a strong wind bursting in, filling the place with flurried snow.

And there stood Ladybug, hands on her hands and a furious expression on her face.

"M- my Lady. But how..?" Chat began to tremble, dropping Marinette in his shock, sending her sprawling across the floor. "Ladybug, you're here!"

"I can't believe you, Chat? Kidnapping a civilian? Threatening to kill her? And here I thought you were my partner, a superhero!" Ladybug shook her head sadly, hugging herself. "And here I thought I was falling in love with you…"

"No, wait, Ladybug, please!" He stepped away from Marinette and made his way towards his Ladybug, reaching out towards her. "I thought you were being stolen away from me! You do love me, you know you do! You see? I was doing this for us!"

"Oh Chat…" Ladybug gave a thin smile, then narrowed her eyes. "I'll have fun kicking your scrawny ass."

Ladybug burst into orange smoke and a pair of feet planted themselves firmly on Chat's chest, making him sprawl onto his back. Everyone stared at the woman standing on Chat's chest.

Her violet eyes sparkled with amusement, body clad in an orange bodysuit, what looked to be a black collar around her throat, the Fox Miraculous dangling. Her fox ears twitched every so slightly, her fluffy tail curled up tight.

"Hello kitty cat. You know, what you did was highly illegal." She purred, then stomped hard on his throat.

"Are those high heels?" Marinette hissed, narrowing her eyes as she watched Chat throw the fox heroine across the warehouse, then him spreading after her, claws unsheathed as he went at her with his Cataclysm.

"Hey Sugar Cookie, I think this belongs to you!" The fox unfurled her tail, Tikki darting out and rushing towards her Chosen.

"Marinette! You're safe!" Tikki cuddled to her chosen, only to flinch back when she felt how cold she was. "Hurry, transform and take Chat's ring!"

"Tikki, spots on!"

---

Chat swiped furiously at the mysterious fox, maddening fury pumping through his veins. This bitch used Ladybug's persona against him. He couldn't wait to turn her to ash.

"You're getting rusty, Tomcat. Must be all of those times you'd laze around and let Ladybug do all of the work." She taunted, running backwards as Chat kept trying to swipe at her with his Cataclysm. But Chat managed to trip her by smashing the back of her knees with his staff, and he grabbed her by the throat. He inched his powered hand closer, but it halted when a familiar spotted yo-yo wrapped around his wrist.

"Not so fast, Chat Noir! You're not hurting anyone." Ladybug smirked and ripped the black cat backwards, while Red Hood appeared and tossed one of the boomerangs. He tossed it at Chat, who instinctively caught it with his free hand, and it crumpled into dust.

"Looks like you've lost the upper hand." The fox grinned and bore her claws, slashing at Chat's face, blood splattering and he was sent stumbling back. Batwoman ran up and slammed her fist right into his face, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone. "Ladybug, now!"

As Batwoman, Red Hood, and the fox combined barely pinned down Chat Noir, Ladybug rushed forward and grabbed his wrist, plucking the black cat ring from his finger.

"Adrien Agreste." Ladybug's voice was cold as his transformation slid away, leaving the bleeding teen glaring up at her with furious green eyes. "As the Guardian of the Miraculous, you are hereby retired as the Black Cat holder."

"You can't do this to me! I am the Black Cat, you can't take my ring!" Adrien snapped and struggled, only to freeze when Red Hood took out a gun and held it to his head.

"Move a fucking inch and I'll fucking end you, you disgusting creep." He snarled, body tense. He was itching to end this kid.

"I contacted the police. They'll be here soon." Red Robin made his way over to them, his arm hanging at an odd angle at his side. He eyed the fallen Batman, Black Bat, Robin, and Nightwing. "Jesus, we all practically have military training and he took out over half of us."

"Oh!" Ladybug's eyes widened a fraction, before she stepped back and threw her yo-yo into the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

---

Robin's eyes slowly opened, and he saw an angel. Marinette smiled down at him, before taking his hands, now perfectly healed, into his own and helping him stand. Without a word, they tightly embraced and she wept softly into his chest.

"I'm glad you're safe, Angel." He whispered, stepping back and wiping the tears away. She was still shivering, but it had subsided some. "You're safe though?"

"I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me." She assured him, before turning back to the entire Bat squad who had gathered around, everyone's wounds miraculously healed. "Where's the perv?"

The fox lady, who stood off to the side, pointed to the entrance, where Adrien was tied up, his nose broken. He then noticed Marinette cradling her right hand and the bloodied knuckles and smiled.

"So…" Marinette turned and crossed her arms, smirking at the fox. "What do I call the heroine who decided shoulder pads and high heels were a smart choice for a superhero costume?"

"I managed to do flips and cartwheels in these heels, so you don't get to judge." The fox pointed a cautious finger at the young teen, smiling. "But I guess you can call me Lady Vixen."

There was a high pitched beeping and soon as the flash of light disappeared, Evangeline stood there, hands on hips.

There was silence for a moment, then a clattering sound. Red Hood had dropped his gun.

In a swift move, he took off his hood and tossed it aside, his messy dark hair framing his face. Suddenly, Eva's eyes widened in alarm.

"What the fuck? Jaso-" Before Eva could say anything else, Jason grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her. Marinette felt her cheeks heat up and an uncomfortable giggle left her as she shied her eyes away. How long had this been going on?

"You're a fucking crazy woman." Jason muttered, resting his forehead against Eva's.

"I had to save Marinette. She couldn't transform without that red fairy." Eva shrugged, though she seemed to have a rather dreamy smile on her face.

"Yeah, but your form was terrible." Jason grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder like she was a sack of flour, before he began striding towards the entrance past Adrien. "You and I need to work on that flexibility of yours."

"Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?" Eva struggled in Jason's tight grip, and Marinette watched as her expression went from confusion, to realization, then to a cherry red eagerness. "Oh.. OH!"

Marinette felt her own cheeks heat up, but she quickly turned back to Batman, clearing her throat.

"Thank you all for saving me. I really appreciate it." She smiled, snuggling into Robin's warmth as they heard sirens in the distance.

"That power of yours comes in handy. I was sure I'd be in the hospital for months." Black Bat grinned, gingerly touching her healed shoulder.

The police quickly arrived, and Adrien was hauled off to Gotham Prison, with a call being sent out to his father.

Marinette was taken back to the hotel, where the entire class was waiting for her in the lobby. Juleka, Rose, Kim, Alix, and Nino all rushed forward and gathered the shivering girl into a tight hug, allowing her to leech off of their warmth, all the while Commissioner Gordon explained everything to Miss Bustier.

"There must be some mistake." Miss Bustier shook her head, looking rather frazzled. She couldn't let this get back to the parents, back to the school board. "Adrien is just a child, you can't arrest him. He just made a mistake, that's all!"

"A mistake?" Gordon's brows shot up in bewilderment before he shook his head. "Listen, Miss, kidnapping isn't a mistake. Holding a terrified girl captive for several hours isn't a mistake. Keeping her bound, in the cold and letting her starve isn't a mistake."

"Marinette probably coerced him into doing it!" Lila spoke up, stepping forward with tears in her eyes.

"She's been obsessed with him for years, he probably couldn't take it anymore. She blackmailed him into some sick fetish game or something to finally get her to stop. Marinette always did like getting all of the attention!"

Alya crossed her arms and glowered over at Marinette. She just had to go and get kidnapped and ruin the entire trip! If Marinette hadn't come, she'd still have her boyfriend, would still have money, and her phone wouldn't be off after her parents decided to cancel her cell subscription. Now she couldn't even update the Ladyblog!

"Why you little…" Alix took a threatening step towards her, but froze in her tracks when she saw Bruce Wayne and Damian making their way into the hotel.

"Good evening, Commissioner Gordon. I heard Marinette was found and we rushed over as fast as we could." Bruce smiled as he shook the Commissioner's hand, watching as his son gathered Marinette into his arms and hugged her tight. "I contacted her parents. Funny thing, they were never told their daughter had been kidnapped."

The glares the adults in the room sent Bustier made her go pale. Eva would certainly have a field day when she got wind of this.

"And I believe that she isn't really safe under the care of such a… mediocre caretaker." Bruce's smile was kind, but his eyes were deadly. "Her parents gave permission for her to stay with us until they get here to take her home."

The class was quiet as Damian guided Marinette over to the elevator, before Alix began laughing, practically doubling over from it.

"Fuck, this is too perfect! Marinette gets to live that pretty princess life you're always boasting about having, Lie-la." She taunted, and the Italian's hands curled into fists as she glared after Marinette and the Wayne heir.

Once in the privacy of her hotel room, Marinette took a seat and gingerly touched her hurt wrists. Plagg hovered over her, looking guilty before he floated down and sadly nuzzled her hand.

"I'm sorry, Gumdrop… I should have reined him in better. I could have stopped him." He whispered, tearing up as he looked down, eyeing her wounded wrists. "I could have stopped him from doing this. But he learned how… how to control me."

"Don't blame yourself. I know he wasn't a true Black Cat." Marinette smiled, scratching the kwami gently between his ears, causing him to purr. Tikki went and hugged Plagg close, the two of them settling on one of the pillows. "But… I think that this madness that overtook him, it was always within him. He chose which path to take."

"We'll find you a new cat, don't worry.." Tikki whispered, hugging Plagg tightly. But Plagg wasn't paying attention, he was staring straight at Damian.

"Well.. We should get you back to the mansion. You'll need all the rest you can get." Damian gathered up Marinette's luggage, eyeing the red and black box she picked up and putting it back into it's secret compartment. Once it was all gathered up, he kissed her. "Let's go home."

"Home…" Marinette smiled and nuzzled him, having a feeling she was finally where she was meant to be.

---

"Nathalie. Get us some tickets…" Gabriel glanced back at his secretary. "We are going to Gotham to get my foolish son."

#Seeing Green #maribat #daminette #miraculous oc

597 notes · View notes

myhauntedsalem · 4 years

Photo

13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors

1. The Crying Girl

“When I was younger probably like 10 or 11, I went camping with my family. I’ll just get right into it. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning, and I couldn’t really sleep. The tent me and my brother were in was really hot, and very uncomfortable. Anyway, while I was trying to go to bed I heard a very faint whimper. I tried to ignore it because I figured I was just tired. Our campsite was along a road with many other camps nearby. The whimper started to get louder, and then turned into crying. I heard footsteps outside of our tent, and a girl crying.

Now let me tell you, it didn’t go faint, it got louder and louder. It remained in the same spot the entire time. That’s so important because, it indicates that she was looking at our tent site, crying. It gets worse, then it turned into a full on scream for a few seconds, then cuts out. When she started screaming by brother woke up. We both look at each other and just get all the pillows and stuff our head under them.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I’m just glad we left the next morning.” – Keithic

2. The Shaking

“This happened to an acquaintance of mine and his son. This took place back in the early ’90s.

He had taken his young son for a father and son type hike out of Skagway. If any of you are familiar with Skagpatch, there is quite a network of trails above town at lower Dewey lakes.

So, it’s evening, dinner done, tent up, bed time. Sometime later, around midnight, he’s woken up by the tent shaking violently, then silence. Then again. Keep in mind its late August, and pitch black, I mean as pitch black as you can get under the heavy coastal rain forest with no moon.

This shaking kept up for over an hour. He had no idea what it was. He went out with his headlamp, yelled, and heard nothing. Would go back in the tent, then it would start up again. He could here footsteps whenever it happened.

He was pretty shaken up by the next morning as you could imagine.

He reported it to the troopers, and the only thing they could come up with was someone with a night vision set up messing around. Or something else…” – Yukoner

3. The Middle of the Woods

“This happened to me when I was little. I went camping with my older brother and my mom. I was about 7 or 8 and I went to bed around 10 in a sleeping bag inside my tent with both my mom and brother. Some time during the night, I don’t know when, I woke up somewhere in the middle of the woods still in my sleeping bag. I had no idea where I was or where my tent was. I screamed for my mom and I heard her calling back for me in panic but she was easily 100 yards away or so. To this day I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of the woods still inside my sleeping bag. Gives me the chills.” – cckaufmann

4. The Hanging Man

“Hiking the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania for a week in…2006 and my brother and I came across a young man who had hung himself. We sprinted up to the bluff where he was strung up. I wrapped my arms around his waist to take weight off his neck while my brother cut him down with his Leatherman. He had thrown the rope up over a tall branch and lashed it off with a clove hitch at the trunk like you’d hang a bear-bag. Must’ve climbed the branches and dropped once laced in. We probably shouldn’t have even tried, he was dead for sometime before we happened across him. Fortunately no critters had come to tear him apart before we found him, it would’ve only gotten grislier from there. Called 911. Ended our trip pretty damn quick.

I don’t know why we tried, it was very obvious he had been dead for some time. Don’t know how long, he was very cold and smelled pretty bad. Intuition to help someone and adrenaline that clouds your judgement I guess? It was kind of a fucked up day so I don’t really remember my thought process.” – Anonymous

5. Scratches

“About one month ago, we are riding a favorite trail up near Camp Verde. Oldest son is leading, youngest is following him, a friend behind him and I am sucking up rear. Come over a hill and I see my youngest son with all of his gear off and his jersey. I came up asking what was wrong, thinking that he crashed, He said his back was burning. I looked and there were three scratches across his back. Looked like claw marks. No blood, but very distinct. He had a chest/back protector on so there is no way a tree branch or anything got him. We finally got him geared back up and headed out. About 30 minutes later, we reached a spot where we always stop for a break. I asked him to take the jersey off so that I could see the scratches again. They were completely gone.” – THB

6. Music in the Night

“A couple of years ago my brother bought a large piece of land out in the middle of nowhere, about thirty miles or so from cell phone reception. It’s quiet, there is no light pollution, no paved roads, and not a lot of people around.

Shortly after he bought the place, two of my brothers (the land owner and another), me, and our families spent a weekend camping on the land and doing our best to clean it up; people had used it as a dump, there were many downed trees, etc. On the second night we camped there, I woke up in the middle of the night to take a leak. As I was walking to the bushes in the dark, I realized that I could faintly hear music. This didn’t strike me as odd because I knew my brother had a radio in his camper. I finished up and went back to sleep with no further thought on the matter.

The next morning at breakfast, I mentioned the radio and music. Several other people recalled waking in the night and hearing music, but no two people heard the same music. Finally, the brother who brought the radio woke up. I asked him about the music and he seemed a bit freaked out. He woke up sometime during the night and went outside to smoke. He heard music as well and had assumed it was someone else. I should mention that he was the only one with a generator and a radio. It wasn’t his radio we heard, it wasn’t anyone else’s either.

I’ve been back several times, but I’m a bit freaked out by that place at night. I have fun while I’m there, but I’m almost always armed and I don’t sleep in a tent anymore, I sleep in my SUV with the doors locked. It may seem kinda dumb, but realizing that everyone heard different music when there are no people, no functional radios, and no electricity is quite creepy.” – goat-of-mendes

7. The Light

“We were in a river-side cabin one night in Northern Michigan. I had just stretched out when a huge crack erupted from the woods. Both of us thought it was a branch or old tree that had fallen.

After he turned off the living room light, we noticed that the light coming from the windows was abnormally strong. This sent our nerves to a new high. The light seemed to pulse several times and got so bright at one point you could have read a book by it. It couldn’t have been a car as we were almost a mile off the road on a dirt trail. Plus, the light came in from all the windows equally.

Every so often we would hear a strange humming noise that penetrated that cabin. This lasted almost half an hour. We talked about just running out to the car and leaving but neither one of us wanted to go outside.

After the light went out, we sat on the couch, occasionally putting forth theories on what it could have been. Around four o’clock in the morning, there was another loud crack. We worried that the light might come back but nothing happened.” – R. Bassil

8. Blue Spectre

“My friend and I were walking just outside of the circle of cabins. It was a bright night with all the stars shining and the moon was well lit. There was a campfire going, and in one of the big cabins there was a party going on with music and so on. We were walking, and we both got a really weird feeling, as if we were being watched. We both turned toward the sea… we saw a blue figure, very tall – about 7 feet – walking through the trees. It made no sound at all. It was a bright blue and glowing figure walking through the forest. It was emitting a shimmery aura, and my friend and I both became very frightened. We shouted at whatever that thing was and we were asking it what it was. We got no reply, of course, but we expected one. We stared as it walked away and out of our vision; we didn’t dare follow it.

We then ran back to the group of people at the camp fire, screaming and describing what we saw. Another friend of mine claimed he was watching it from a distance not far from were we were and was just as frightened as I was.” – Devin

9. Footsteps Upstairs

“Not something I experienced, but my sister and her husband did.

My family used to have a cabin on a lake in the Northwoods. It’s a lake with no public access. On the other side is/was an old Girl’s Camp that the state was letting fall apart. The camp had a large, two-story main house that was mostly intact at the time.

My sister and her husband decided to check out the camp one day. They canoe’d over and started to walk around. They went into the Main House first. They walked around for a bit. And then they heard heavy footsteps upstairs. These footsteps turned into someone running heavily towards the stairs.

My sister and her husband booked it out of the house, but they could hear the steps coming down the stairs and on the main level as they ran out. They opted to run around the house instead of heading back to the shore.

They never saw who it was, but they heard them enter back into the house. And then they heard them storm back outside again. They went into the woods this time and heard someone running in the woods after them.

They took the long way around the lake back to the cabin.

My dad and I had to go back later that day to get the canoe. We never heard or saw anything.” – joftheinternet

10. Geocaching

“I’ve been geocaching in the woods many times, and occasionally one runs into caches with weird things in them. The creepiest was an ammo box with only a handful of finds that contained broken doll parts and a handwritten note that said “Look behind you”. I definitely had the heebie-jeebies and double-timed it back to my car despite it being the middle of the day. It’s crossed my mind before that geocaching would be a great way for a serial killer to lure people out to remote locations.” – Anonymous

11. Who Followed Us?

“This happened in 81 or 82. Not sure anymore.

I had made friends with a fellow I worked with and offered to take him gigging for frogs. He was from the city and had never spent any time in the woods at night. The farm I had permission to do it on was only about a mile from my place. My friend showed up at 10:30 or so and I gave him a gig and a flashlight. We decided to walk to the other farm. We didn’t get far before we both heard something walking in the dark to the side of us. I’ve been in the woods all my life and I’ve had plenty of deer follow me but I wasn’t going to tell him that. It was clear he was getting spooked. We climbed a fence and continued on. Then we heard something else climb the fence.

Deer don’t climb fences. I tried looking around with the flashlight but he wanted none of it. We could see the house lights of the place we were going to and he ran off on me and beat on the guy’s door until they let him in. By the time I got there Mr. Barber, (the land owner), and his wife was out on the porch and wanted to know what was going on. Mr. Barber and I went back and had a look around but found nothing. My friend refused to walk back and Mr. Barber gave us a ride back to my place. We never did find out what or who it was that was following us.

My friend decided that frogging wasn’t for him. He has also refused to go on several fishing trips I have invited him to. I can’t say I was too comfortable with what happened but I haven’t let it stop me from frogging.” – Smoker

12. The Circle

“I was backpacking in New Hampshire and camped out for the night after a day hike. I wondered off from our fire to go take a piss and stumbled upon a circle etched into the ground with tuning forks surrounding the circle standing up straight…It looked like a creepy ritual circle and it bugged me out so I booked it back to the group.” – ITS_A_BADTIME_BOB

13. The Gator

“Few years ago I was camping in the Everglades in Florida with a few friends. We all had gone into our separate tents and were starting to fall asleep. The area was pretty noisy with bugs, crickets, birds, etc. I heard this very low vibration, sounding almost like a low roar. it was powerful enough to vibrate in my chest. Suddenly everything in the forest shut up. no bugs, no birds, nothing. about thirty seconds later my phone vibrates and its my friend in the other tent texting me asking if i heard the same thing. the four of us kept texting each other, wondering what it was. about ten minutes later all the animals slowly started making noise again. I slept that night with my machete at arms reach.

A lot of people are saying it might have been a gator. We were in an elevated area that was far from any streams or ponds. Its possible there might have been a pond with a gator that we missed, but the very big ones tend to hang out in lakes.” – Biggs180

#13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

14 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Two For Two Chapter 29: Against the World

The final battle. Dragonbug and Snake Noir versus Hawkmoth. The fate of Paris rests in the balance... but Hawkmoth was never one to fight fair.

(This chapter ended up being 5.3k words long, so I’m only posting a third of it here. The full chapter will be on Ao3, as usual.)

@ladynoirjuly2020

Enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Read on Ao3

After using the purple potions to sneak across the city to the Agreste mansion, they realized that of all the combinations of potion colors left to them, there was really only one choice.

There would be no elemental showdown. No space for flight. No need for true sight. Tricks and evasion could only get them so far. No, what they needed was power - and as much of it as they could get. With that in mind, they fed Tikki, Plagg, Sass, and Longg the orange potion and felt their bodies thrum with the barely contained power of two heightened miraculous.

“We’ll need to be careful,” Snake Noir said as he stared at his childhood home.

“Of course. We’re heading into Hawkmoth’s lair.”

“Not just that.” Snake Noir shook his head. “We’re breaking into Agreste Mansion. It has a lot of defenses. Defenses I had thought were meant to keep criminals out.”

“...But you think he might have always known it would end like this?”

“Maybe. He never liked taking risks or leaving things up to chance.” Snake Noir clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “I don’t think we’ll have much of a problem. They probably don’t have it turned on to full because they’re waiting on me.”

“Right…” She put a comforting hand on his back. “Let’s get this over with.”

Snake Noir nodded and put a hand on his bracelet. “Just to be safe, though… Second Chance!”

She was about to jump across when Snake Noir caught her wrist. She turned back to see him standing there was a look of fury that took her aback.

“What? Chat, what’s wrong?!”

“The defenses,” he said through clenched teeth. “Are on max power and full alert.”

She blinked back at him in shock. “What- But doesn’t that mean-”

“If I had somehow managed to make it home, I would’ve been fried.” There was a dangerous look in Snake Noir’s eyes as he glared at the mansion. “I know how to get in now, though. Follow me.”

The specific route they took was a little roundabout. Running around the block that the mansion was on, breaking cameras along the outer wall - all in preparation for diving through the window above the front door. Both of them landed in superhero pose and quickly rose to their feet, Dragonbug immediately having her yoyo shield and her dragon sword drawn and ready to fight. She wasn’t sure what she expected to fight - maybe robot henchmen or something equally cliche - but only dead silence greeted them.

“Where to next?”

She looked toward her partner, but Snake Noir was storming up the stairs, baton drawn and ready in staff mode. The door he approached immediately had a metal plate slide shut over it, but he was undeterred. One swing from his staff saw the door shake and tremble in place. The second put a huge dent in it. The third put it hanging off its hinges. And the fourth one sent it flying.

Rushing in behind him, the first thing she noticed was a massive computer panel. It came as a shock to her because it definitely hadn’t been there the last couple times she’d been there. But then she noticed the scuff marks on the floor and the revealed button panel on the wall. That control center had been there the whole time, just kept hidden. How long had Gabriel Agreste been preparing for this?

Her racing mind distracted her from the professional-looking woman sitting in front of the computer bank. The look on her face quickly changed from startled to determined as she stood to fight off Snake Noir with her bare hands. Naturally, she didn’t get far, but not for the reasons Dragonbug had been expecting. Nathalie got to her feet and immediately clutched at her head before crumbling to the floor, the sudden movement enough to send her to her knees.

That was when Dragonbug noticed that her professional appearance was marred by an air of sickness and disheveledness. Strands of hair pulled free from her bun clung to the sweat on her unnaturally pale face. Her eyes were bloodshot and tired, with dark rings around them. And once she was on the floor, it looked like she wasn’t about to get up any time soon.

Still, whatever her other qualities - misguided loyalty, neglect of Adrien - she was doggedly determined. Nathalie latched onto one of Snake Noir’s arms, attempting to pull him away from the computer system.

“No! We’ve come too far, you can’t stop us now!”

There was a strange cocktail of emotions on her partner’s face. Pity. Anger. Bitter sadness. Disgust.

“It doesn’t matter!” Anger took the forefront as he shouted at her. “Can’t you see that it isn’t worth it?! We’re the only people not brainwashed in Paris!” Bitter sadness reared its head as he watched her struggle feebly in her sickness to tug on his arm. “At least, Dragonbug and I are.”

Nathalie’s face contorted into anger, a bizarre break from her usual cold expression. “I won’t let you take this away from Adrien! He will finally have his family whole again!”

For a moment she was worried that he was about to reveal his identity, so powerful was the look of dismay on his face. But it smoothed out into a cold, expressionless stare as he spoke one word.

“Cataclysm.”

A look of horror spread across both Nathalie and Dragonbug’s face as his clenched fist glowed with destructive energy. It seemed even more powerful than usual, wreathing his clawed gauntlet in black fire with a halo of green.

But she didn’t need to worry - his claws raked the computer, causing it to spark and glitch disconcerting. The mansion’s lights flickered and went out. After a few moments, dim red lights activated in their place. The omnipresent hum of power that she had been ignoring since she had arrived was significantly quieter.

“That’ll be all the defenses systems except for the exterior metal plates over the windows and doors going out.” Snake Noir said, staring straight into Nathalie’s eyes. “As well as most of the lights.”

Nathalie stared right back, suspicious and a little afraid. “How did you-”

“What can I say?” Snake Noir glared at her. “Cats get into all sorts of places and I suppose I’ve always been a bit of a snake.”

Dragonbug glanced worriedly between Snake Noir and Nathalie. “So… what are going to do about her? We can’t exactly turn her in to the police yet.”

Snake Noir shrugged. “Tie her up. The computer is thoroughly done for and she isn’t strong enough to break out of a paper bag right now.” He put word to action, tying her up as she failed to put up resistance. “No doubt because of the broken-” He froze and his eyes widened.

“...Chat? The broken what?”

Then it clicked.

“Wait. If she doesn’t have the peacock miraculous… who does?”

“I don’t know,” Snake Noir said, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t think of anyone else he’d trust with something like that, or with any of this.”

“What makes you think you know anything about Gabriel?” Nathalie asked angrily, tugging at the rope.

Snake Noir glared at her before grabbing Dragonbug’s elbow and walking away. “Come on, my lady. Let’s go talk some place where rude people won’t be eavesdropping on us.”

Once they were out in the hall, she asked him, “Where to next?”

He went down the stairs, eyes narrowed in thought. “I bet he has a secret lair somewhere in here. And he spends more time in his study than anywhere else in the house. We should start there.” He glanced back at her, a smirk on his lips but sorrow in his eyes. “Unless you think I should just cataclysm it all down and search through the ashes?” He flexed his claws.

“Chat…” They reached the bottom of the stairs and stood next to a door on the ground level. She put a hand on his cheek. “I know this is tearing you up inside. You don’t have to pretend it isn’t with me, okay?”

He sagged, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I…” His hands went to his face as he groaned. “Later, okay? Once this is all done, I promise I’m going to fall to pieces. Can you pick me up after that?”

A flicker of a smile passed over her face. “I think I can manage it, yeah.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. Now, come on and I’ll show you what I know.”

The door was locked, but super strength alone was enough to bust it down, no cataclysm necessary there. A few tentative steps brought them inside the seat of Gabriel Agreste’s fashion empire. Her eyes scanned the walls where designs from all seasons were pinned in an orderly fashion.

There were few personal, non-work related items inside, but one of them was the large portrait of Emilie Agreste behind his desk. Snake Noir had gone to stand in front of it. She had thought it was for sentimental reasons, but her partner’s mind was all business as he moved the painting aside to reveal a safe. He held out his hands as if presenting it to her.

“Tada! This is where I found the book of the Guardians.” Snake Noir stroked his chin. “Come to think of it, its probably still in there.”

“We’ll remember to grab it on our way out. It won’t fit in either of our pockets and I don’t want to carry it into a fight.” She stepped closer and started rifling through the desk. “So… any clue on where the button or lever or switch or whatever will be in here?”

Snake Noir shrugged. “None. Maybe a lucky charm will give us a hint?”

“Good thinking.” She cleared her throat and tossed her yoyo in the air. “Lucky Charm!”

A spotted paint brush fell into her open hand.

“Hm…” Snake Noir hummed in thought. “Are we supposed to dust for fingerprints or something?”

“Good idea.” She smirked. “I can see I’m rubbing off on you. But I’m not sure that’s the right answer.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay. I can have good ideas all on my own you know. But anyway,” he glanced from the lucky charm to her. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be a hint, right?” She looked from the brush to the painting. “Maybe the safe is only a diversion.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Snake Noir #Dragonbug #Ladynoir #Ladybug #Chat Noir #LadynoirJuly2020 #nathalie sancoeur #Hawkmoth #Gabriel Agreste #ml fanfiction #my writing #Two For Two

32 notes · View notes