#If you find the author of these images let me know
Note
Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures
... and Leo, of course.
OH GOD OK
uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.
it really
really got out of hand.
This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.
Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.
I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....
btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)
-----
When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.
When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.
But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.
Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.
A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.
They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.
So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.
He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.
He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.
There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.
He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.
As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.
"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?
He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.
"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"
Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.
He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.
He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.
His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.
"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"
"Qué?" Leo asks.
Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"
Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"
"I'm sure you would like some dinner."
"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?
To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"
Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"
He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"
Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.
This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.
He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.
"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."
If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.
"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."
The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.
He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.
-----
Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.
He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.
Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.
His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.
Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.
So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.
(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)
He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.
He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.
So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.
-----
The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.
Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.
Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.
Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?
He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!
But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.
And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.
His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.
Another growl. He groans out loud.
He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.
-----
No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.
He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.
(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)
He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.
He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.
(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)
After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.
Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!
"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."
Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.
Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.
"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"
"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."
"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."
"That's gotta be unconstitutional."
"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."
Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"
Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.
Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."
"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."
"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"
"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"
The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?
"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"
Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.
So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.
Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.
-----
The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.
He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.
As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.
He also needs to sleep.
The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.
The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.
But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.
After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.
He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.
He wishes he was home.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?
It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.
They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.
He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.
-----
The same routine plays out over the next two days.
Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.
They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.
More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.
Nothing. Always nothing.
(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)
It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.
And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.
Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.
It's miserable.
And there's still nothing to do.
He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.
He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.
He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.
By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.
But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.
-----
Something new happens on night five.
It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.
Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.
Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.
The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.
The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.
He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.
The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.
The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.
Leo's mouth is watering.
He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.
"I'm not hungry," he lies.
The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.
Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.
The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.
"You want this," he says.
Leo shakes his head.
"You really sure?"
Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.
The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.
Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."
Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.
Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.
After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.
"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."
Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.
The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.
Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.
He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.
After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.
-----
"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.
"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."
Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"
For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.
His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.
That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!
Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.
Leo swallows hard. "No comment."
Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.
"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."
Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.
Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"
"Little bit," says Leo.
Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.
And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.
-----
The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.
He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.
Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.
Where are you? Leo thinks back.
There's no answer.
He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.
Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.
He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.
It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.
He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.
Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.
Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.
He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.
It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.
It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.
The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.
It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.
He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.
-----
He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.
"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.
(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)
"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."
"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."
"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."
One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.
Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.
Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.
"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.
"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."
Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"
"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.
Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.
"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"
Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."
"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"
Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."
Leo falters, his body going slack.
What an obvious, stupid mistake.
(Some face-man he is.)
It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.
"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."
"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."
Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.
Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!
What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?
You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.
He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.
He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.
It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.
Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.
"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.
Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.
-----
After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.
It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.
He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.
Which means his chance is finally here.
He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.
(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)
So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.
Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.
Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."
Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.
It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.
"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.
He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.
The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.
Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.
Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.
Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.
"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"
Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.
He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.
He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.
Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.
It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.
Where is he?
He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-
BANG!
A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.
It's a dart.
Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.
-----
"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.
Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.
He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.
And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.
Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.
"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.
"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."
That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.
He says nothing.
Bishop sighs.
"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."
Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."
-----
The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.
"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."
Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.
"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"
And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.
But he's just...
so...
hungry.
So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.
And he nods.
The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.
It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.
"Please," he gasps out.
"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."
Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...
He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.
He lowers his head.
"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."
The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.
"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."
And then he takes another bite.
Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.
Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.
And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.
"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"
The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.
"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."
Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.
His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.
And his stripes...
His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.
They're almost black.
Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.
He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.
This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.
This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.
He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.
This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!
Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.
Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.
But he's tired, and hungry, and he...
He wants to go home.
He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.
-----
Maybe they aren't coming.
That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.
He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.
So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.
Unless they aren't coming.
Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.
He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.
So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.
Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.
Maybe it's time to give up.
---
Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.
You are not alone.
-----
He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
"You don't look well," he observes.
No shit, Leo wants to say.
"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."
The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?
"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"
He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.
But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.
They might hurt Draxum.
They might hurt his family.
And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...
Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.
Maybe they'd finally trust him.
Maybe, at least, he can have that much.
Leo shakes his head.
Bishop scowls.
"Temperature down ten degrees."
-----
Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.
He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.
He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.
He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.
Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.
Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.
But he's so sleepy.
It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.
And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.
So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.
He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.
But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.
So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.
It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.
At least he's not shivering.
Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.
-----
(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.
The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)
-----
Part 2 (not yet out)
#rottmnt#rise leo#agent bishop#cw: psychological torture#dandy fanfiction#I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting#please don't be mad at Raph himself lol
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Season 1, Episode 22 - Devils Trap
Series Masterlist
Y/N’s POV
My heart dropped when I saw the fearful expression on Deans face. My mind running to the worst that could possibly happen. Dean hung up the phone, a stoic look on his face. "They've got dad" He tells us, panic taking us all over. "Meg?" Sam asks stunned, anger building in him. "What'd she say?" I ask, taking a deep breath as I try to calm myself down.
"I just told you guys" Dean says firmly, his face growing red with panic. "Okay.....okay" He takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face. Dean then goes over to the nightstand, picking up the Colt. He then shoves it in the back of his pants. "What are you doing, Dean?" Sam asks him confused as Dean picks up his bag. "We gotta go" Dean says urgently, packing up all our stuff.
"Why?" I further question as Dean throws on his jacket, "Because the demon knows we're in Salvation. Alright? It knows we've got the Colt. It's got Dad and it's probably coming for us next" Dean says, trying to control his breathing. "Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come!" Sam says. "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready!" Dean snaps at his brother.
"Okay?! We don't know how many of them are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead!" He further exclaims, buttoning up his shirt. I sigh, nodding in agreement. He takes my jacket and hands it to me, I quickly take it and throw it on. "We're leaving. Now!" Dean bellows, his tone filled with authority.
Third Person POV
The Impala and Harley rush down the stretch. Y/N has her headphones jacked in her ears, on a call with the boys who're in the car as they drive. "I'm telling you guys, we could've taken them" Sam says a bit irritated. "What we need is a plan." Dean responds firmly. "Now they're probably keeping John alive. We just gotta figure out where. They'll wanna trade him for the gun" Y/N blurs from over the speaker phone.
Sam shakes his head, huffing. "What?" Dean groans at Sam's expressions. "Guys, if that were true...why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam points out, his mind swirling with images at his possibly dead father. Dean couldn't think of an answer, "Dad...he might be-" Sam goes to state the obvious but Dean and Y/N cut him off. "Don't!" They growl in unison.
"Look, I don't wanna believe it anymore than either of you...but if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job." Sam states firmly. "Screw the job, Sam!" Dean snaps angrily. "Dean, I'm just trying to do what he'd want. He would want us to keep going!" Sam argues.
"Jesus, would you quit talking about him like he's dead already, Sam!?" Y/N pipes up irritated from over the phone. "Thank you!" Dean yells in agreement. "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back. Do you understand me? Everything!" Dean orders in a tone of authority. Sam just sighs, bowing his head. He nods sadly, "So how do we find him?" Sam asks softly.
"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken" Dean suggests. "Come on, Dean. You really think these demons are gonna leave a trail?" Sam scoffs. It dawns on him, "You're right. We need help" Dean agrees. Sam is surprised but goes with it.
________________________________
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
The Impala and Harley drive into the familiar yard, a broken sign overhead stating, 'Singer Auto Self Service'.
Bobby takes up two flasks, "Here you go" He hands Dean one. Dean takes it and examines it, "What is this, holy water?" He asks Bobby, "That one is. This is whiskey" Bobby smirks, taking a sip from his flask. Dean cocks his eyebrow in amusement. "You still got a liver, Bobby?" Y/N jokes. "Partially, still waiting on my transplant" He retorts jokingly, handing it to her.
She takes it smiling, taking a swig from it. "Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything" Y/N says gratefully. Looking over at Sam, who's by Bobby's desk doing research, "To tell you the truth, we weren't sure if we should come" Dean says honestly sighing. "Nonsense, your daddy needs help" Bobby reassures him. "Yeah, but last time we saw you. I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot." Y/N points out.
"Cocked the shotgun and everything" Dean snorts as Y/N shakes her head smiling at the memory. Bobby sighs, "Yeah, well, what can I say? John and F/N got that effect on people" Bobby says. "Yeah, I guess they do" Y/N sighs her heart panging at the mention of her father. Bobby looks over at her sympathetically. "None of that matters now, sweetheart." Resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm so sorry about your father, y/n/n" Bobby says sincerely. Tears well up in her eyes again but she fights it off. Giving him a tearful smile, "Yeah. Me too." She sighs. Bobby gives her a small smile, then taking his hand off her shoulder. "All that matters now is that you boys get your father back." Bobby says firmly.
"So did you really shatter does car windows with your mind, kid?" Bobby asks her curiously, cocking his eyebrow. Dean looks over at her concerned but she shrugs. "I think so. All I know is, when I saw-" She begins but stops, her heart begins to pain. She clear her throat. Dean and Bobby's faces gloss over with sympathy at this, "Its okay, you don't gotta-" Dean goes to assure her but she cuts him off.
"It's fine, we gotta talk about it at some point" She says firmly. Dean nods and she turns back to Bobby. "When I saw wh-...what happened, I felt a power literally surge through me. I imagined Kate being away from Dad. I can't put it into words, but next thing I knew. She was flying through the air into a car. And after....after dad was gone. I wanted to punch everything in sight and it happened again" She explains sadly. Looking down, she tries to not allow the tears to flow.
Dean and Bobby share a look of pity at this, "Maybe it's gotta do with your mom. F/N always said your momma was a powerful woman, she could do those things and more" Bobby suggests gently. "I don't know" Y/N sighs, looking down. She chuckles dryly, "It's funny. He always wished I was like mom, he even admitted to hating the fact that I was so much like him." She huffs, shaking her head.
"But then him dying is what somehow brought out whatever powers mom gave me. It's a fucked up circle" She looks down, sniffling back tears. "Your father didn't hate you, Princess" Dean assures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I know" She sighs. "We'll figure it out kiddo, I promise." Bobby assures her with a small smile, patting her on her shoulder. She nods, offering feigning a small smile.
"Bobby, this book...I've never seen anything like it" Sam says amazed. Bobby walks over, taking a seat on the table. "Key of Solomon? It's the real deal alright" Bobby responds. "And these—uh. These protective circles, they really work?" Sam asks him, pointing to the printing of a protective circle symbol in the book. Y/N peers over the table to take a look at the book. "Hell, yeah. You get a demon in one, they're trapped. Powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel" Bobby explains, making Sam and Y/N chuckle at the simile.
"Man knows his stuff" Dean says proudly, walking over to them. "I'll tell you something else too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in" Bobby states. "Oh yeah? How's that?" Y/N asks curiously, crossing her arms over her chest. "Normal year. I hear of...say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops" He ballparks. "Yeah?" Dean urges him to further explain.
"This year. I heard of 27 so far." Their eyebrows raise at the skyrocketing number. "You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us. A lot more" Bobby points out lowly. "Do you know why?" Sam asks. "No, but I know it's something big. Storms coming" Bobby shakes his head. "And you kids and your daddies...you are smack in the middle of it" He finishes. The three young hunters share a look of terror.
Y/N began to feel that heat rising in her body, now creeping up to the back of her neck. Her breath hitches as the pain grows. Suddenly, Bobby's dog begins barking loudly out of nowhere. "Rumsfeld" Bobby mutters in concern, getting up from the table quickly to go check by the window. "Ow!" Y/N yelps in pain, clutching her neck. Sam jumps up from his chair at this.
"You okay, Princess?" Dean asks her concerned, placing a hand on her lower back. Bobby opens the peepers to see Rumsfeld chain was broken, "What is it?" Sam asks Bobby. "Something's wrong" Bobby says urgently. That's when his door was kicked in, broken down by Meg. She strolls in, a angry look on her face as the four hunters look at her in shock. Dean clutching his flask of holy water.
"No more crap, okay?" Meg says angrily, Dean narrows his eyes at her. Undoing the cork on the flask to throw the water at her but she waves her hand in the air. Sending Dean flying into a stack of books, "You bitch!" Y/N growls as she and Sam shield Bobby, keeping him behind them protectively. "I want the Colt, Sam. The real colt. Right now" Meg orders in a low tone, moving slowly towards them.
"We don't have it on us. We buried it" Sam lies quickly, both him and Y/N shielding Bobby closely, moving back as Meg moves closer. "Didn't I say. No more crap?" Meg says irritated. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters and L/Ns. I gotta tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed" She chuckles ironically, still moving closer as they move backwards.
"First Johnny tired to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads" She mocks them. "Lackluster, man" She scoffs. "I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" She smirks cockily. Dean then emerges from the behind her. "Actually, we were counting on it" He says smugly.
Meg turns around, cocking her eyebrow. Dean then looks up to the ceiling, Megs eyes follow his gaze to see a Devils Trap engraved into the ceiling. Megs cocky grin drops, "Gotcha bitch" Y/N snaps back, a smirk on her face. They then got a chair and bounded Meg to it, tying her hands and her feet. Sam, Dean and Y/N sat across from her on the table, outside of the trap.
"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask" Meg says in a coy tone. They glare at her, not responding. Bobby emerges from the living room with a canister of salt in his hands. "I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain't getting" He informs them. Dean nods, getting up to stand infront of Meg.
"Where's our father, Meg?" He asks her firmly. "You didn't ask very nice" She smirks. "Where's our father, bitch" Dean smirks back. "Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" She retorts in a snide tone, feigning a fake gasp. "Oh I forgot, you don't" She smirks. Deans nostrils flare at this, "Hey, you think this is a fucking game?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?!" He shouts fueled with rage, getting in her face, pressing his hands on the chair handles.
"He died screaming. I killed him myself" She says proudly. A dark look on her face. Tears well up in Sam and Y/N's eyes at this, pure fury in Deans. He backhands her harshly at the side of her face. Her head snapping to the side, She gasps, looking up at him with a smile. "That's kind of a turn on, you hitting a girl" She smirks. "You're no girl" Dean grits his teeth at her but she just smiles widely.
Bobby's realizes something and gets up, "Dean" He calls out to him, ushering the three young hunters into the living room. Dean gives her one last glare before going into the living room. "You okay?" Y/N asks him concerned. "She's lying. He's not dead" Dean says firmly. Y/N sighs, understanding how this could all he stressful for the boys. "Dean, you gotta be careful with her. Don't hurt her" Bobby warns him.
They look at him confused. "Why?" He asks Bobby. "Because she really is a girl, that's why" Bobby says. "What're you talking about?" Sam asks confused. "She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?" Bobby states lowly as if it's obvious. They look back at Meg stunned. A dark smirk on her face. "You're trying to tell us there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Y/N asks, pointing to Meg.
Bobby nods as Dean looks back at Meg, "That's actually good news" He breaths out relieved. Bobby then gave Sam a book with a exorcism incantation. The three younger hunters step closer to Meg, Sam with the book in his hands. "You gonna read me a story?" Meg says smugly. Dean glares at her with hatred along with Y/N. "Something like that. Hit it, Sam" Dean orders Sam, a smug smile on his face.
Sam then begins to recite the incantation in Latin. Meg huffs, "An exorcism? Are you serious?" She shakes her head cockily. "We're going for it, baby. Head spinning, projectile vomiting. The whole nine yards" Y/N retorts in a snide tone, referencing the movie. Meg then grunts in pain, shaking slightly. Sam stops the recital as she breathes heavily, looking over at Dean and Y/N.
"I'm gonna kill you" Meg grits her teeth at Sam. Then turning back to Dean and Y/N. "I'm gonna rip the bones from you body" She threatens menacingly. "No, you're gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where are dad it" Dean shakes with anger, but Meg smirks. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan" He snaps back, looking back up at Sam. Indicating for him to continue. Sam then begins to recite the incantation again, Meg shaking with pain.
Huffing and grunting, "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes" She taunts the boys, grunting in pain. "He begged to see his sons and y/n one last time. That's when I slit his throat" Meg continues to taunt them, gritting her teeth in pain. They all look at each other nervously. Flames of fury in Deans eyes and he leans down towards Megs face, "For your sake, I hope you're lying. Because is it's true, I swear to God. I will March into hell and slaughter every single one of you. So help me god" Dean growls at her, shaking with anger.
And by the sounds of it. That was a promise he was gonna keep. She just smirks at them as Sam continues to chant the incantation. Wind builds in the room, pages from open books flipping on their own. Meg grips onto the chair, shaking and grunting. "Where is he?" Y/N asks her angrily, getting down to her level.
"You just won't take dead for an answer, can't you?" Meg grunts painfully. "Where is he?!" Dean yells. "Dead!" Meg yells back. "No he's not!! He's not dead, he can't be!!" Dean screams back, tears building up in his eyes. Sam looks on at the interaction, looking at his brother and y/n in concern. "What're you looking at? Keep reading" Y/N snaps at him.
Sam shakily starts reciting the incantation again. Meg shakes again in pain, the chair begins to move around on its own in the circle as she screams. "He will be!!" Meg yells. This catches their attention. "Wait! What?!" Dean puts his hand out, stopping Sam from reciting the exorcism. "He's not dead" Meg breathes heavily. "But he will be after what we do to him" She snaps back snidely.
"And how do we know you're telling the truth?" Y/N asks. "You don't" Meg smirks. "Sam!" Dean and Y/N yell, indicating for Sam to continue. "A building, okay?! A building in Jefferson City" Meg blurts out. "Missouri?! Where?! Give me an address!" Dean demands. "I don't know!" Meg cries. "And the demon. The one we're looking for. Where is it?" Sam asks. "I don't know, I swear!" Meg pleads.
"That's everything. That's all I know" She breathes heavily. Dean and Y/N clench their jaws angrily as they look at her. "Finish it" Dean orders Sam firmly. Him and Y/N pacing menacingly around Megs chair. "What? I told you the truth!" Meg yells betrayed. "I don't care!" Dean shouts back. "You bitch, you promised" She narrows her eyes at Y/N. "I lied!" Y/N shouts in her face, leaning down. A look of hatred being exchanged between the two.
"Sam" Y/N looks back up at Sam. Sam hesitates. He doesn't move or say anything, "Sam!" Dean nudges his brother. "Read" He orders. "Maybe we could still use her. Find out where the demon is" Sam suggests. "She doesn't know" Dean says. "She lied!" Sam argues. "Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there and we've gotta help her" Y/N argues back.
Bobby emerges from behind them. "You're gonna kill her" Bobby tells them. "What?" Dean and Y/N ask in confusion. "You said she fell from a building." Bobby points out, looking back at Meg with pity. "That girls body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside" He tells them lowly. "You exorcise it, the girl is gonna die" Bobby explains.
"Listen to me, both of you. We are not gonna leave her like that!" Dean insists. "She is a human being" Bobby defends. "And we're gonna out her out of her misery" Y/N retorts. Bobby's face drops, Dean then turns to his brother. "Sam, finish it" He orders Sam. Sam looks over at Bobby and then back to Meg, who's still in pain.
He then looks back to his brother and y/n. "Please. Finish it, Sam" Y/N pleads. Sam sighs, looking back down at the book. He begins chanting in Latin again. Meg begins to shake, her eyes turning black as she groans. When Sam finishes the recital, Meg screams, throwing her head upwards, a large black cloud of smoke escaping from her mouth as she screams.
They look on in horror as this happens, her head falling back down when it's over. Blood then begins to leak out of her nose, dripping into the ground. She raises her head slowly as she bleeds from her mouth. Groaning in pain, "She still alive" Y/N gasps. Bobby runs out of the room. "Call 911. Get some waters and blankets" Dean tells him. Y/N leans down and begins to untie her hands gently.
Along with Sam and Dean. "Thank you" Meg says gratefully, straining herself to speak. "Shh. Shhh. Just take it easy, alright hun" Y/N says gently. "Come on, let's get her down" Y/N says to Dean. On three, the two lift Meg up gently. Meg crying and grunting in pain. When she touches Meg, something surges through her body. It's almost as if she could feel the pain Meg was feeling, but not physically, she could feel it in her soul. Tears begin to well at her eyes when this happens.
They rest her gently on the ground, Y/N lays her head on her lap. "I gotcha. I gotcha. It's okay. It's okay.." Y/N says gently as Meg gasps, more blood dripping through her nose and mouth. "A year" Meg says weakly. "What?" Sam asks gently. "It's been a year" Meg responds again, her voice straining. "Shhh, shhh" Y/N shushes her gently, pushing Meg's hair away from her face. "Take it easy" Sam gives her a gentle smile.
"I've been awake for some of it" Meg says weakly, taking a deep breath. When she says this, a thought crosses Deans mind. "I couldn't move my own body" She admits, the three hunters look at each other in terror. "And things looked- It- it's a nightmare" She groans. "Was it telling us the truth about our dad?" Dean asks her. Sam and Y/N look at Dean in disbelief.
"Dean" Y/N says in a warning tone. "We need to know" Dean defends. "Yes." Meg croaks weakly. "But it wants you to know....they want you to come for him" Meg tells him. Dean nods slightly, relief washing through his body. "If Dad's still alive, none of that matters" He responds. Bobby comes walking back into the room with water and some blankets.
He hands Dean the water, they slowly raise Meg up a bit, holding the glass to give her a sip. She chokes slightly, coughing. "Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam asks Meg. "Not there. Other ones. Awful ones" She responds, breathing heavily. "Where are they keeping John?" Y/N asks her. "B-by the riv- River" Meg stutters, blood spluttering out of her mouth. "S-sunrise" She stutters again. "Sunrise? What does that mean?" Dean asks her.
But she doesn't answer, Y/N's feels her pulse. Her heart dropping, "What does that mean?" Dean asks her again, more urgently this time. "Dean..." Y/N whispers, looking back up at Dean. "She's gone" She tells him, Deans face dropping as they hold the dead girl in their hands.
Still at Bobbys house, "You better hurry to and beat it before the paramedics get here" Bobby tells them. "What're you gonna tell them?" Y/N asks him concerned. "You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out" Bobby scoffs sarcastically. "Here, take this" He hands Sam the Key of Solomon book. "Thanks" Sam says gratefully, taking the book.
"Thanks for everything" Dean thanks Bobby gratefully. "Be care, alright?" Y/N pats Bobby on his shoulder. "You kids just go find John. And when you do, you bring him around, would you?" He tells them genuinely. "I won't even try to shoot him this time" He chuckles, they crack a small smile before nodding.
They make their way to the door, opening it to make their way out. Dean turns back and gives Bobby one last grateful look before locking the door behind him.
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The Impala and Harley are parked by some train tracks. Dean and Y/N by the truck, cocking up weapons as Sam is leaning over the roof of the car, reading the book Bobby gave him. "You two been quiet" Sam points out, breaking the silence. Y/N and Dean look up at him, "Just getting ready" Dean responds dryly.
"He's gonna be fine, guys" Sam assures them but they don't answer. "He will be" Y/N says softly to Dean. He looks down at Y/N with a stoic expression, his face softening when he sees the genuine gentle smile on her face. "Let's hope so" Dean sighs, shaking his head. Sam sighs, turning a page in the book. He finds a symbol that could help them, taking out a pen he wipes the dust off of the Impala trunk lid and begins drawing.
Deans gaze snaps over to him, "Dude, what are you drawing on my car?" Dean asks him irritated. "It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it." Sam responds calmly. "So?" Dean scoffs as Sam goes over to the other side of the trunk to draw one. "Basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." Sam responds again.
Dean wipes the symbol a bit, looking up at Sam annoyed. "So?" He scoffs again, irritated. "So we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad" Sam states as if it's obvious. "What're you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us" Dean says. "Can't. Dean. We only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demons. We gotta use them on the demon" Sam points out.
Dean looks like he's about to punch something. "No, we have to save your dad, Sam" Y/N pipes in. "We gonna need all the help we can't get" Dean spits angrily going over to Sam. Y/N notices the look on Deans face and puts her body between the two, just incase Dean tries to get aggressive. Sam sighs, closing the book. "Guys, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn't want us to bring the gun" Sam puts it plainly.
"I don't care, Sam! I don't care what Dad wants! Since when do you care what Dad wants?!" Dean yells angrily. Y/N jumps slightly as his raise of voice, looking between the two boys nervously. "We wanna kill this demon! You used to want that too!" Sam retorts loudly, gesturing between him and Y/N. "Hell, I mean you're the one who came and got me at school!" Sam further argues, this makes Dean chuckle dryly as he continues.
"You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just trying to finish it!" Sam yells getting closer to Dean. "You're a selfish bastard you know that!?" Dean bellows getting closer to Sam, Y/N's had enough at this point. "Okay! That's enough!" Y/N snaps, placing her hands on their chests, she pushes them apart roughly. The two men's gazes snap down at her surprised.
"You're brothers, man! Your father is missing. So instead of turning on each other, keep your heads in the damn game and let's go find John and kill that son of a bitch demon who ruined our lives, god dammit!" She lectures angrily, her voice cracking. They both sigh, their heads dropped in shame. Both nodding. "She's right" Sam sighs. Y/N turns to Dean, "Sam's also right, they're expecting up to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all" Y/N explains.
"That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't." Sam further stresses. "Fine" Dean says plainly. "We're serious, Dean!" Y/N snaps seriously. "I said fine, Y/N!" He snaps back. Taking the gun out from his jacket, he takes it and rests it inside the trunk. Sam goes over and locks the trunk, not before mouthing a quiet "Thank you" to Y/N. She nods back, mouthing "You're welcome" to him as they hop in the Impala and Y/N hops on the Harley.
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They walk along side the river bank, Dean has his bag sling against his shoulder as they walk. Dean notices something and stops Sam and Y/N, "Hey, hey. I think I know what Meg meant by 'sunrise' ". He tells them, nodding to the buildings across the road. A sign in-front with some kids and adults playing in the yard, 'Sunrise Apartments'.
"Jesus. That's pretty smart" Y/N mutters kinda impressed. "I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anyone inside" She points out. The boys nod in agreement, "Yeah, and make anybody attack us" Sam adds sighing in defeat. "Yeah, so we can't kill them. A building full of human shields." Dean says. "They probably know exactly what we look like too. They could look like anybody" Sam says.
"Man, this sucks out loud" Y/N groans. "Yeah, tell me about it" Sam sighs. "Alright, so how the hell are we gonna get in?" Sam asks, an idea flashes across Deans mine. "Pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians" He suggests. "Okay, but then the city responds in what, seven minutes?" Y/N points out. "Seven minutes exactly" Dean confirms. "It's the best we got" Sam says shrugging.
The three share a look, discuss a foolproof plan and Sam crosses the street.
Sam opens the gate leading to the building, making sure there's no one around. He inches to the fire alarm but moves quickly when he sees someone coming. He walks up, waiting for the person to leave and then walks back, quickly pulling the fire alarm. The bell rings throughout the entire building,
Approximately seven minutes after, the apartment is swarming with firefighters. People rushing out of the building. Dean and Y/N approach a firefighter, pretending to be concerned civilians. "Hey, what—? What's happening? Is it a fire?" Y/N feigns a panicked tone whilst talking to the firefighter. "We're figuring that out now, ma'am. You and your boyfriend just stay back" The firefighter says calmly, ushering them out of the way.
"Well, we've got a Yorkie upstairs. And he pees when he's nervous" Dean tries to explain, lying in a panicked tone as the firefighter ushers them back. "Sir, ma'am. You have to stay back" The firefighter says calmly, ushering them away from the truck while Sam, who's behind them, sneaks behind the fire truck. He makes sure no one's around and begins picking the lock.
Sam, Dean and Y/N are upstairs now. Dressed in firefighter gear. Their helmets and masks over their heads to conceal their identity. Dean scans each apartment door with the EMF as they walk through the halls. "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up" Dean admits as he scans door. "You never told me that" Sam says shocked.
"I knew. He only told me because I told him I wanted to be a musici- Ughh!" Y/N begins to say but she whimpers in pain when the burning feeling in her body returns when they approach apartment 33. The boys look over at her in concern, "What wrong, princess?" Dean asks her gently. Placing a hand on her lower back. "It's definitely in there" She says gritting her teeth in pain.
The EMF meter then starts going off red like crazy at the same time. They all look at each other in concern. Dean then knocks the door harshly, "This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate the premises!" He shouts loudly through the door. They give each other a nod when they hear the lock from the door being undone.
Y/N kicks it in harshly as soon as it's opened, a woman screams when she's knocked off her feet. They instantly begin to spray her and the man inside of the room with the holy water they had in their spray guns they stole from the truck. Both the woman and man screaming in pain from the water. Dean grabs the woman who's tossing trying to fight Dean off but screaming from the holy water.
As Sam punches the man. Incapacitating him, Y/N opens the closet door and Sam tosses the man in. Knocking over a clothes rack. She locks it back so he can't escape, "DEAN!" She yells for him to toss the woman in also. She opens the door quickly and Dean tosses the woman in. Him and Y/N bar the door with their bodies as Sam rushes over to his duffle he tossed on the floor.
"Hurry up!! Hurry up!!" They yell for Sam to do quickly as the two demons bang relentlessly at the door. Sam pulls out the salt, he the. runs to them and makes a half salt circle around them in-front of the door. The banging then stops, they all pant for breath as they pull off their helmets, stripping off their gear.
Sam picks up his duffle after they strip their gear off, "Come on" Y/N says quickly, creeping over softly to the room. They follow behind and open the door slowly to see John Winchester sprawled across a bed, unconscious, looking beaten to hell. Tied to the frame. "Dad" Dean says quietly, his heart hurting from the sight.
They rush over to John as Sam looks on. Y/N puts her ear to John's nose to check on his breathing and checks him pulse. The burning feeling returns when she does this but she assumes it's from the demons from earlier. Dean and Sam look at her fearfully but she nods. "He's still breathing. But his pulse is weak" She informs them.
"Dad, wake up!" Dean shakes his father's body. "Dad!" He yells. Dean takes out his knife boots quickly to cut off the ties but a thought runs across Y/N and Sam's minds and they stop him. "Wait. Wait!" They say urgently. "What?!" They ask them confused. "He could possessed for all we know" Sam says. "Are you two nuts?!" Dean stresses, Y/N stops him. "Dean" She says gently. "We gotta be sure" She adds.
"Are you getting that pain you get when demons are around?" Sam asks her. "Yeah, a bit. But it could just but the other demons from the closet." She tells him nodding. Sam then pulls out the holy water from his bag, unscrewing the cork. Dean looks pained as Sam throws the holy water on John's unconscious body. John has no reaction to this but he moans softly from pain.
"Sam?" John whispers lightly, looking up at the kids in shock. The light from the window shining on his bloody face. "Why are you splashing water on me?" John asks confused. Sam looks over at Dean and Y/N, they all smile lightly from relief, "Dad, you know?" Dean asks John concerned. "They been drugging me" John croaks. "Where's the Colt?" He asks them.
"Don't worry, Mr. Winchester. It's safe" Y/N assured him. "Good kids" John says softly in pain. "And how many times have I told you, sweetheart. It's John" John says firmly with a chuckle. Y/N smiles a bit, "Sorry, John" She chuckles lightly, as Dean cuts John out of the ties. Y/N helps Dean lift John up but he's too heavy, "Goddammit, what have you been eating" She groans, John weighing her down.
John laughs a bit painfully, "That good stuff from the diner" He chuckles as Sam comes over to help. "Here, take this. Let me" Sam says, handing her his duffel to help Dean lift John to his feet. She takes at, switching positions with Sam. "Fuck!" Y/N groans, the pain increasing in her body. Sam and Dean go to walk out of the room with John. "Don't!" Y/N stops them but it's too late.
A firefighter and man knock the door in. Their eyes black. "Come on. Get back back!!" She yells at them, fearful looks on their faces. They rush in with John on their shoulders as Y/N quickly locks the door, as soon as she does this. An axe comes knocking through the top of the door in the middle. She takes the salt out of Sam's bag as the boys open the window to go down the fire escape.
She makes a salt line quickly on the floor infront of the door, "Y/N, let's go!" Dean shouts for her, she tosses him the bag and jumps through the window. Not before making a salt line at the door. They all make their way down the ladder, Y/N last. Dean helps John down down as the drop is steep, gripping him at his waist.
John grunts when he jumps down, Sam following behind and Y/N last. Y/N walks ahead, making sure no one is around as Sam and Dean hold John up. When she looks to her right, she's tackled to the ground by a demon. Stunned by the attack, the demon hands a right hook in her face. "No!" Sam and Dean yell fearfully.
They quickly place John on the ground, rushing over to pull the demon off of Y/N. Dean lands a harsh kick across his face but one look and the demon sends Sam flying back over to John, into the wall. A nasty cracking sound in Sams right side break as he lands on the floor with a hard thump. The demon then sends Dean flying into a car windshield, similar to what Y/N did with Kate.
Y/N is still dazzled by the attack, Y/N spits some blood out onto the ground, so the demon takes his time, landing multiple punches across her face. Bleeding through her nose and mouth, she tries to fight back by the demon is too strong. The burning feeling in her body increasing. "Get off of her you bastard!" Sam yells, nursing his bruised rib, ready to charge at the demon again but he's cut short.
That's when a bullet goes flying straight through the demons left temple and out his right. It falls to the ground besides Y/N, a black smoke oozing out of the bullet wound. Sam watches on in shock to see Dean wielding the Colt, Dean rushes over to Y/N "Y/N? Princess?? Come on" He says gently, helping her to her feet. She gasps for air, winded from the attack as they look down at the dead demon.
Sam looks at his brother with disbelief. "Come on. Come on. We gotta get out of here. Sam, get dad!" Dean orders Sam. Holding up Y/N, he hoists her up and lifts her up bridal style. She looks back the dead demon, on the floor with blood oozing out of his temples, stunned at what just happened.
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Later that night, they're all now at a cabin hiding out. Sam and Y/N are lining up the windows with salt. Dean comes out of the bedroom after putting John to bed. "How is he?" Sam asks his brother. "He just needed a little rest, that's all" Dean replies dryly, wiping his hands. "How're you, sweetheart?" He asks Y/N concerned, taking a seat at the table. She looks over at him, her eye bruised with a busted lip.
"I'll survive" She sighs deeply. Deans heart drops painfully at her beautifully bruised face. "Hey, you guys don't think we were followed here, do you?" Sam asks them. "I don't know. I don't think so" Y/N responds shrugging. "I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up" Dean adds. "Yeah" Sam and Y/N sighs in agreement.
Y/N gives Sam a look that says, 'Beat it' but he looks at her confused. Looking back between her and Dean, he now realizes the tension. Nodding understandably, "I'm uh- I'm gonna go check the back door. See if we salted it" Sam clears his throat, looking between Y/N and Dean before excusing himself awkwardly to check the back doors which he has already salted.
After Sam walks off, Y/N nervously walks over to Dean who's sat at a chair by the dining table. "Hey, uh...Dean. You um-" She begins, scoffing a bit painfully. Dean looks over at her with a concerned expression when she settles next to him. "You saved my life back there" She says softly. "So I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" He retorts jokingly but she rolls her eyes.
"Charming, I'm trying to thank you here" She turns her head away, huffing a little irritated. Dean smirks slightly. He then places his hand gently on the side of her face to turn it back to him. Her (e/c) eyes pierce his emerald orbs, her once agonized face contorting to pained one when he brushes his thumb gently on her swollen eye. "You're welcome" He whispers back, mesmerized by her beauty.
She allows her eyes to flutter shut, slightly rubbing her cheek against his hand. Feeling comforted by his touch. Her heart is pumping out of her chest. She then rests her hand against his. "Y/N?" He says quietly, "Yeah?" She responds, opening his eyes. "You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there" Dean says, his tone filled with shame and guilt.
"You didn't have a choice, Dean" She assures him softly. He sighs, removing his hand gently from her face. She winces from the loss of contact, "Yeah I know. That's not what bothers me." He admits. She's a bit confused by this, "Then what does?" She asks curiously. "Killing that guy, killing Meg...I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch." He says shaking his head.
She gives him an encouraging look for him to continue, "I mean, for you, Sam or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just...uh..It scares me sometimes" Dean admits, his voice dropping, his eyes glued to the floor. "Dean..." She says gently, placing a hand on his thigh comfortingly. His eyes flicker back to her with a pained expression, his eyes glancing down to her lips.
Her breath hitches when she notices this, her eyes glancing down to his. The tension is so thick, a knife might break if you try to cut it. Dean licks his lips and Y/N does the same, the two begin to inch their lips towards each other but, "It shouldn't. You did good" John says encouragingly as he emerges through the room door. Dean and Y/N pull back quickly from each other, startled as John look at them with raised eyebrows.
They clear their throats awkwardly as Y/N is trying not to turn beet red in the face. "You're not mad?" Dean asks his father. "For what?" John asks him. "Using a bullet" Dean states as if it's obvious. "Mad?" John scoffs. "I'm proud of you" He says smiling.. "You know. Sam, Y/N and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you— You...you watch out for our families. You always have." John says genuinely.
Dean and Y/N share a look at this. A bit surprised by Johns calm demeanor. "Thanks" Dean says gratefully. Still a bit uneasy. Y/N cocks her eyebrow suspiciously at John but then the lights then begin to flicker in the cabin and they all look at each other nervously. John moves to the window as Sam emerges from the back. "What's going on?" He asks fearfully.
"It found us. It's here" John tells them quickly. "The demon" Sam mutters fearfully. "Sam, Y/N. Lines of salt. Infront of every window, every door" John orders them. "We already did it" Y/N tells him. "Well, check it. Okay?" He says firmly. "Okay" Sam and Y/N responds. Doing exactly as John says. Leaving Dean with his father in the room. "Dean, you got the gun?" He asks his son. "Yeah" Dean responds, still unease.
"Give it to me" John orders. "Dad, Y/N tried to shoot the demon at Salvation and it vanished" Dean informs him. "This is me, I won't miss" John further presses. "Now, the gun. Hurry!" John insists, his hand out for Dean to give him the gun. Deans face drops, looking down at the Colt in his hand and back up at John. He notices the hesitation on Deans face, "Son, please" John pleads as Dean glares at him.
Dean backs away from John, realization finally dawning on him. "Give me the gun, what are you doing Dean?" John huffs irritated. "He'd be furious" Dean states. "What?" John spits annoyed. "That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one" Deans voice cracks painfully when he says that. He then raises the gun and cocks in John's direction.
"You're not my dad" Dean grits his teeth angrily, clenching his jaw. 'John' stares into the barrel of the Colt in horror. "Dean, it's me". 'John' pleads. "I know my dad better than anyone. You ain't him" Dean snaps. "What the hell has gotten into you?" His father says angrily. "I could say the same thing. Stay back" Dean orders. Y/N and Sam emerge from the back, horror etched on their faces when they stumble upon Dean aiming the Colt at 'John'.
"Dean. What the hell's going on?" Sam asks stunned as they look between the father and son nervously. "Your brother's lost his mind". 'John' scoffs. "He's not dad" Dean states roughly. "What?" Y/N asks in disbelief at the fact that her suspicions might have been right from the start. "I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him" Dean growls. "Don't listen to him, Sammy and y/n/n". 'John' cuts in, raising his voice.
"Dean, how do you know?" Y/N asks Dean in a low tone. "He's- he's different" Dean stutters. "You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, Y/N. You wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me". 'John' says angrily. Sam and Y/N look between him and Dean. "Sam. Y/N. Please" He pleads. Without hesitation, Sam and Y/N step behind Dean, taking his side. "No...no" Sam says, shaking his head.
Y/N narrows her eyes at 'John', who huff shaking his head. "Fine, if you three are so sure. Go ahead. Kill me" He whispers painfully, tears welling up in his eyes. His head drops to the ground as Dean looks at his father with tears in his eyes. "I thought so" John says in a deep voice, now looking back up at the three hunters with yellow glowing eyes, a dark smirk on his face.
Their eyes widen in horror, Sam and Y/N go to attack but a force throws them against the wall harshly in a flash, then doing the same to Dean. Which results in the gun falling out of his grip and onto the floor in-front of the demon. They all grunt in pain, gasping for air as the demon possessing John Winchester, takes up the Colt. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been" The demon wearing John chuckles as he examines the gun in his hand.
He then looks over at Sam and Y/N. "It's you, isn't it?" Sam groans painfully as his father looks back at him, a smirk on his face. Eyes still glowing yellow. "We've been looking for you a long time" Y/N grits her teeth angrily, groaning from the force crushing her. "Well, you found me" John responds cockily. "But the holy water..." Sam points out, groaning in pain.
"You think something like that works on something like me?" John scoffs. He then moves close to Y/N, a curious look on his face. "Though I gotta say, I'm surprised Little Miss Jennifer Love Hewitt here felt me possessing John" He smirks, leaning in closer to her. She grimaces as he moves slowly, pressing his lips to her ear. She whimpers in disgust at this.
"Get off of her you son of a bitch!!" Dean bellows angrily, groaning in pain. "You're more powerful than I thought, sweetheart" He whispers lowly as she squirms in repulsion. "I'm gonna kill you!" Y/N growls angrily as the force thuds her against the wall. The demon pulls away with a amused expression, "Oh, that would be a neat trick." He chuckles arrogantly.
"In fact. Here" He smirks, putting the gun down infront of them on a table. "Make the gun float to you, psychic hottie" The demon mocks her. She glares at him as he turns to Sam. Her eyes attached to the gun. "What about you, psychic boy? Got any juice in ya?". 'John' smirks at Sam darkly. Sam groans as the force presses him more into the wall.
Y/N's eyes are still focused on the gun as 'John' chuckles, walking over to Dean. "You know, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this- This was worth the wait" He lets out a breath, staring out the window next to Dean as Dean grimaces from the pain. He turns to Dean with yellow eyes, "Your dad, he's in here with me. Trapped inside of his own meat suit" The demon says proudly.
"He says hi, by the way. Oh and he is pissed about you using that bullet to save your little girlfriend" The demon smirks. He then leans in with a nasty smirk on his face, his eyes flicker to Y/N and back to Dean, "I gotta admit. I would too. She's a hot little thing" He wolf whistles lowly, chuckling darkly. Dean tries to rip out of the grip to maul him, grunting. Y/N's stomach churns, "Please don't say that with John's mouth!" She groans in absolute disgust.
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU SICK FUCK!" Dean growls enraged. "John's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood" The demon adds menacingly. Deans face contorts to a pained expression, "Let him go. Or I swear to God-" Dean growls. "What? What are you and God gonna do?" The demon cuts him off snarkily. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justic." He walks closer to Dean as he glares at him.
"You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter." The demons grits his teeth at him. "Who, Meg?" Dean questions. "The one in the alley....that was my boy. You understand?" He says lowly. "You gotta be kidding me" Dean scoffs, grimacing in pain. "What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" The demon asks rhetorically.
Sam, Dean and Y/N's eyes twitch angrily at this but Y/N still has her eyes trained on that gun. Trying anyhow to move it, focusing for that power she felt that night to come back. It moves a bit on the table and she gasps lightly, Sam notices this too, his mouth slightly agape. "Oh, that's right. I forgot, I did" The demon says humorously with a smirk. Dean glares deadly daggers at him. "Still, two wrongs don't make a right" The demon says with a smile.
"You son of a bitch" Dean mutters enraged. "I wanna know why. Why did you do it?" Sam grunts. The demon turns to him, "You mean, why did I kill Mommy, Auntie M/N and pretty little Jess?" The demon retorts. "Yeah" Sam grunts in response. He then turns back to Dean, "You know, I never told you this, but Dam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything" He continues to taunt them as he walks back towards Sam.
"You wanna know why?" He gets in Sams face. "Because they got in the way" He puts it simple in a dark tone. "In the way of what?" Sam growls. "My plans for you and y/n/n, Sammy. And all the children like you two" The demon smirks and Sam glares at him. Y/N's jaw clenches angrily at this, her eyes still trained on the gun. "Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Because I really can't stand the monologuing" Dean groans, his tone sarcastic.
The demon laughs and turns back to him, "Funny. But that's all plan of your m.o. isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain. Masks the truth" The demon taunts Dean further, getting face to face with Dean. He clenched his jaw and narrows his eyes at the demon wearing his fathers meatsuit. "Oh, yeah. What's that?" He asks sarcastically. "You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is...they don't need you. Not like you need them" The demon spits.
"Sam, he's clearly Johns favorite." He tells Dean who glares at him angrily. "And y/n..." John scoffs a laugh, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. "That piss-poor of an excuse kiss you were about to lay on her, come on man. She'll never see you the way you see her. It's pathetic. Her father would've never accepted you and neither would she" He laughs even louder, his shoulders shakily.
"Fuck you!" Dean retorts enraged, his nostrils flaring. Y/N's gaze breaks from the gun at this, her eyes wide with anger and shock. She grits her teeth at John. "That girl could flatten you like a pancake if she wanted to, son." The demon laughs maniacally. "Even when Sam and John fought. Or when Y/N and F/N butted heads, it's more concern than they've ever shown you." The demon pesters him further.
Dean smirks lightly, "I'll bet you're real proud of your kids too, huh?" He asks ironically. "Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted em" His tone is low, a dark look in Deans eyes as he smiles smugly. The demon backs up, his demeanor still calm. His yellow eyes light up a bit and Dean screams loudly in pain. "DEAN!" Sam and Y/N scream. "No! Stop!" Y/N pleads, her heart aching as Dean screams.
Blood begins to ooze from his chest as wounds form. "Dad! Dad! Don't you let it kill me!" Dean pleads for his father to fight through the possession. He begins to fade, bleeding from his mouth. "Dean!!" Sam and Y/N scream painfully. "Please! If you let the three of them go! I'll do whatever you want!" Y/N offers pleadingly. The demon stops his attack on Deans chest and turns to Y/N with an amused grin. Deans head drops, falling in and out of consciousness.
"And what can you give me?" He asks curiously. "Loyalty. Respect. The works. Oh, and it'll hurt them a lot more than just killing them" Y/N says in an enticing tone, gritting her teeth. "Y/N are you fucking stupid?!" Sam bellows. "Shut up!" The demon snaps at him, then turning back to her. "You said I'm more powerful then you thought right? Imagine what I'd be if I train under you" She whispers enticingly.
The boys are terrified at her offer. Refusing to believe she'd betray them like that, just to save them. "Is that a promise?" The demon smirks. Y/N smirks back when she sees the gun move again on the table. "Not a chance in hell, bitch" She snarks angrily. Using her mind, the gun flies into her hand and she breaks out of the demons hold, swiftly pistol whipping John's face. His eyes flicker back to John's regular eyes for a bit. Y/N cocks the gun at the demon.
"You kill me, you kill Johnny. And Dean would never forgive you for that" His eyes are now yellow again. A dark smirk on his face. "I know" She growls, aiming for his knee. She shoots him in his kneecap. John falls to the ground as the bullet would looks as if lightening and black smoke is coming out of it. Similar to the way it killed that demon Dean shot earlier.
The hold the demon had on Sam and Dean breaks, their backs sliding off of the walls. Dean falls to the floor, gasping for air as he chokes on his blood as Sam falls to his knees. They rush over to Dean. "Dean. Dean!" Sam runs over to his brother. "Oh god, charming. You lost a lot of blood" Y/N gasps, handing the Colt to Sam.
She places her hands on his face, her heart breaking at the sight of Dean in pain. "Where's dad?" He asks her weakly, grunting in pain. "He's right here, sweetie. He's right here" She assured him, nodding through the tears in her eyes. "Go check on him. Go check on him" Dean breathes out. Sam does so, getting up from besides Dean.
He walks over to his unconscious father. "Dad? Dad?" He calls out to him. John eyes open in a flash, "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it" John grunts, Sam's eyes widen in horror. Y/N's head snaps in the direction of Sam and John, her eyes wide as she cradles Dean in her arms. "Just shoot me. You shoot me. You shoot me in the heart, son!" John orders him. Sam cocks the hun tearfully.
"Do it now!" John screams. "Sam, don't do you it. Don't you do it!" Dean yells. "Sam, you gotta hurry. I can't hold onto it much longer!" John pleads grunting, Sam is hesitant to shoot. "Just shoot me, son. Shoot me!" John yells, Sams nostrils flare, choking back his tears as he shakes anxiously. Not able to make that choice, "Son, I'm begging you, we can end this, here and now. Sammy!!" John bellows.
"Sam, no!" Y/N pleads shaking her head. Knowing that if Sam did this, it'll haunt both boys forever. "You do this! Sammy!!!" John grits his teeth, pleading with his son to listen to him for once. But Sam lowers the gun, John screams as the black smoke rushes out of his mouth. Sam looking on in horror as the black smoke drifts into the floorboards of the cabin.
Dean and Y/N sigh in relief as John falls to the floor unconscious. Alive but unconscious.
________________________________
Sam is driving the Impala down the road, Dean in the back and John in shotgun as Y/N drives her Harley side by side the Imapla. Dean groans in pain, the blood still on his mouth. "Look, just hold on, all right? The hospitals only 10 minutes away" Sam assures them. "I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it?" John asks him angrily.
"Had it been, y/n/n. She probably would've followed orders" John adds. "No she wouldn't have" Dean pipes up from the back seat, grunting. John sighs, "I thought we all saw eye to eye on this. Killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything," John says firmly. Sam looks at his brother pained in the rearview mirror. "No, sir. Not before everything" Sam responds firmly.
"Look, we still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We should start over, alright? I mean we already found the demon once-" Sam goes to say but is cut off when a truck comes barreling into the passenger side of the Impala head first. Y/N's eyes widen in terror when she hears the crash, her head turns but her reflexes weren't quick enough to speed up and dodge the car.
It came barreling right into her as the car is pushed away by the truck. The truck controlled by the possessed driver. Her body rolls, bones breaking with snarly sounds. Luckily she had her helmet on, “Dean..” Is the last thing she croaks as she falls unconscious at the last thud to her helmet she received from the bike itself. The car was completely trashed along with her bike. Sam, Dean and John, in bleeding messes. Along with Y/N, unconscious, battered and broken.
________________________________
Authors Note: And with that, Season 1 has come to an end🥹Bitter sweet moment for me I must say. I am so excited for season 2!!! I am apart of the John Winchester hate club so I don't feel too bad about this😂But boy are we in for a ride for the next few episodes, much love and appreciation to everyone reading. I hope everyone enjoyed and is having an amazing weekend🫶This chapter is edited by the way, safe safe sweeties MWAH 💋
Tag list:
@hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor
Xoxo
#Spotify#dean winchester#sam winchester#spn#supernatural#dean and sam#sam and dean#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#supernatural reader insert#supernatural fandom#supernatural tv show#supernatural fanfiction#eventual smut#dean winchester x female!reader#x reader#ao3 writer#the winchester brothers#supernatural series rewrite#eventual relationship#eventual romance#series rewrite#rewrite#eventual happy ending
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Well. I think I'll talk about my kidney cysts another day, I'm still really frustrated with my insurance but I'm trying to be patient and not catastrophize about what all could be wrong since it could be just a week or 2 before my doctor/insurance works out a way to get the CT scan authorized
Anyway, I have my labs tomorrow, and I really don't feel well (pain + exhaustion + nausea) but I don't want to reschedule them again, both because I know I'll just also not feel well next week, and because maybe the lab results would help provide more justification for the CT scan to be authorized, but
You know?
#erin talks#text#not to be like my usual self that views myself as a fun little science experiment#but it almost makes me want to ask for the imaging from my uterine/ovary ultrasound from 2021; my insurance wouldn't authorize my $40k#hysterectomy without it & I've talked about how like despite the Everything about my periods (2-3 periods a month; extreme bleeding;#non-stop pain) my doctor couldn't find anything Wrong with my uterus (& there was no endometriosis)... so like what did that ultrasound#show that made my insurance approve the surgery? I know my uterus tilted backwards to the point it put pressure on my intestines#instead of my bladder (which caused . GI issues since the day I was born let's say lmao) but idk if that was reason enough to approve#the surgery . sorry this got TMI lmao 😭 do you still think I'm sexy even after I described my internal organs pressing on my intestines#medical talk tw
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Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!
Warnings!:non!
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡
Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime
❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
“Each time I find myself
Flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race!”
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!
Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?
At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!
He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.
He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!
He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!
Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience
Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.
This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.
Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.
Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.
Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!
Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too
He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.
He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.
He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.
He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥
He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out
NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.
Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!
Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.
It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.
And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.
He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.
He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.
But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!
Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course
Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.
If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always
Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!
Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.
He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet
He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧
He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!
Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!
Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.
He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!
You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.
Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!
Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’
#x reader#anon <3#deez nuts#hazbin hotel#all genders#main character#x y/n#sorry this took so long#tumblr won’t let me edit my drafts :(.#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#vox x reader#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#vox and alastor#ty for coming to my ted talk#dies#ty for the ask <3#tysm <3#ty anon!#thank you for requesting!#thanks for the request!
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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost
So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:
The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".
Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.
As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".
Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.
See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:
That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?
So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.
And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.
*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.
Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.
And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.
11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)
12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)
12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)
12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)
13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)
13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)
13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)
13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)
13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)
13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)
13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)
13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)
14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)
14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)
14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)
15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)
I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.
#medieval#medieval creatures#medieval art#scorpions#medieval scorpions#manuscript#medieval manuscripts#illuminated manuscript
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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓
ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER
SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...
WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)
𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.
The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.
The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.
With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.
The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.
“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.
“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.
“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”
Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”
“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”
“It’s too–”
You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”
“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.
“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”
Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.
“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.
“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.
“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”
He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.
“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”
You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.
You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.
“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.
You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.
You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.
The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.
Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.
He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.
Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.
Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.
He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.
He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.
He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.
You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.
Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.
You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.
Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.
But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.
A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.
His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.
Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.
Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.
You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.
You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.
It was Simon.
Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.
“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.
A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .
You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.
He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.
Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.
You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.
Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.
You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.
The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.
Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.
Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.
He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.
You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.
Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.
His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.
You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.
When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.
You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.
But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.
You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.
You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.
You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.
He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.
You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.
Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?
You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.
#ghost#simon riley#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod#simon riley smut#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#fluff#angst#ghost angst#cod mw2#smut#zombie!ghost#modern zombie#cod zombies
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Reading Session
Summary: Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Innuendo. Edging. PiV. Creampie. After care. Precum.
Word count: 3.5k
Author's note: Yes. The book exists in BG3. Thank you to @hmdeath for helping me find it 🩷
You flipped through the last pages of chapter four of ‘The Quarta Sune: A Guide to Sexuality, Eroticism, and Emotional Fulfilment’, your eyes widening slightly from all the intricate and rather impressive positions illustrated with some notes on how to maximise pleasure for both parties involved.
Needless to say, it had your heart racing as the faintest of throbs settled between your thighs. You bit your lip, pressing your legs together as the thought of putting some of these pointers in practice gradually took over.
You flipped back to chapter three, taking mental notes and humming softly as you rolled onto your stomach, placing the heavy book on your pillow.
‘If one is to indulge in the ‘Waterdeep Caress’, it is mandatory that the one on top sets the pace, looking into their lover's eyes.’
It seemed simple enough.
‘...one arm should be wrapped around their neck as the other is set on their chest, caressing a nipple with gentle fingers…’
You nodded attentively.
The images drawn across the pages had your undivided attention to the point you didn't even notice you were no longer alone in your room until a swift hand snatched the book from your grip.
You were about to voice out a protest, but ended up deciding against it once you realised who the perpetrator was.
Astarion.
Of course.
He looked as amused as ever, inspecting the cover before his gaze travelled down the page you had been so focused on.
“Reading ‘The Quarta Sune’?” he tutted with a knowing smile. “My, my… feeling naughty, are we?”
You were on your feet in an instant with both hands reaching out in a pointless attempt at retrieving the book.
“Give it back!”
He held it aloft, effortlessly keeping you at bay. “I don't think keeping secrets from me is very nice, is it?”
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as you let out a groan of frustration. “Please. Just… give it back.”
“I am merely wondering why you'd need to resort to this in the first place, darling,” he asked, feigning hurt. “I'm an open book in these matters – you need only ask.”
And that was precisely why you had bought a copy from Nansi Gretta at The Blushing Mermaid.
Astarion was a very considerate lover, and you found yourself wanting to surprise him, too. To have a few tricks up your sleeve that he couldn't see coming his way.
But now you just felt disappointed as your plan vanished into thin air.
He was still holding your gaze, now with a hint of delight.
“This is not fair…” you eventually said, flopping onto the bed with a prolonged whine.
“Now, now, darling,” Astarion began, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat down on the edge, caressing the nape of your neck. “Far be it from me to interrupt your studies.”
You groaned against the bedsheets, feeling the urge to throw a tantrum from having had your hopes crushed.
“Go on,” he said, shifting closer. “Tell me why you were so enthralled by it.”
Oh, he was goading you.
Of course he was.
He excelled at riling you up and smearing it in your face.
So you chose silence, scowling deeply.
His hand moved to your back, toying with the clasps of your nightdress.
“Pouting? Really?” he said with a click of his tongue.
But his taunt was only met with more silence.
He then began to tug gently, undoing each clasp with an expertise that only his level of dexterity could provide.
A chill ran down your freshly exposed skin, fingers pushing the fabric apart in their wake and travelling down your back.
That persistent throb in between your legs from before threatened to quicken as you caved under his touch.
You flinched away from his grasp, throwing him an irritated glance.
He held the book in his other hand, and extended his arm to you. “Feisty today, sweetheart? Here, have your book.”
With a pout, you promptly retrieved it.
Astarion chuckled, his eyes dropping to your chest. “Do carry on being a tease – I am rather enjoying the view myself.”
You followed his gaze, suddenly made aware that the sudden motion had caused your nightdress to come apart and roll down your arms, exposing your breasts.
“Shit,” you hissed, dropping the book and fumbling with fabric to regain your modesty.
But the damage was done and you were left all flustered under his unwavering gaze.
“Will you tell me why you were reading this book?” he insisted, offering a coy smile. “Was it a fit of depravity that overcame you?”
“No!” you said, the impending feeling of defeat looming over you. “I just… I wanted to see if I could find something – anything – to surprise you with.”
He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Surprise me? How come?”
Your face was swallowed in heat as your eyes darted to the book. “Well, you've probably read it, haven't you?”
“I haven't, but I reckon it's a pile of utter rubbish.”
What?
“But… I got it at The Blushing Mermaid.”
An understanding smile curled his lips. “All the more reason. See, darling,” he said, bringing his knuckles to caress your arm, “you don't learn these tricks from books.”
A frown settled on your face. “But…”
His hand found yours and he rubbed each finger with the pad of his thumb. “Experience is still the best teacher.”
“You're no fun,” you said, sticking your tongue out before rolling over on your stomach and snapping the book open to continue your reading.
For a moment, you chanted victory inwardly as not another teasing remark was heard from him.
But Astarion wasn't easily silenced.
Not for long, anyway.
You tried to focus on erotic drawings in front of you, ignoring how the bed shifted slightly under you.
And then each of his legs was on either side of your thighs, caging you under him.
“Very well, then,” he said, hiking the hem of your nightdress up until it was resting at the small of your back, exposing your backside to him. “If you're so adamant about this, who am I to deny you?”
You glanced over your shoulder and were met with the most devious grin ever.
What was he up to?
His hands settled on each cheek, groping the rounded and taut flesh underneath.
Oh…
He alternated between soft and firm squeezes for a long while, and you had already lost any semblance of concentration.
You felt him pat one cheek twice before his cool lips were suddenly at your ear, drawing a shiver from you.
“Astarion… what are you doing?”
You felt a soft kiss being pressed to your neck. “You're obviously eager to learn a few tricks from this book,” he whispered, as his hands travelled down your sides before gripping your waist rather firmly. “So teach me, darling.”
Inevitably, your eyes widened at his proposition and you immediately propped yourself on your elbows, turning your head to meet his eyes.
The new angle gave him the perfect opportunity to steal a kiss from you.
It was fleeting and clearly not his main focus, so he pulled from your lips.
“You are going to read to me your favourite passages.”
“What?”
“I am sure you've managed to find something interesting by now,” he carried on, pecking the tip of your nose. “And I don't mind being proven wrong about this book.”
It would have been easier to dismiss his request if his hardening cock wasn't so firmly pressed against the swell of your backside.
“I can just tell you…” you said, swallowing hard.
He simply chuckled. “You said I was no fun, so I am making sure this is fun.”
You gazed down at the open book in front of you, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue.
“And, darling?” he called from behind you. “If you stop, I stop.”
And suddenly, the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room.
Your underwear had been effortlessly torn apart, granting him exclusive access to your now soaked core.
You shuddered under him, tilting your head to meet his crimson eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If you stop reading, I stop fucking you.”
The crudeness in his words was enough to draw a gasp from you, and mainly because you knew he meant what he said.
Astarion wasn't one to hand out empty warnings.
It soon dawned on you that he had caught a glimpse of the page you were currently gripping, providing him with enough material to use as leverage against you.
Fuck.
“Isn't this the one you want to try out?” he cooed, pressing his erection against your backside once more. “It seems like we are already halfway through.”
Instinct guided the next few rolls of your hips, yearning for more friction, not at all interested in wasting time reading anything from this book, when the subject of your desires was all you wanted to focus on.
But Astarion disagreed.
In fact, it was the loud tapping of his fingers next to the explicit diagrams of the ‘Prone Delight’ position that snapped you out of your lust-filled haze.
“Read it out loud.”
You groaned, frustration evident in your voice. “But you can see it…”
He pressed his strained cock harder into you and you yelped from the sudden pressure.
“Read. It.”
Somehow, you found the will to fix your gaze back on the now crinkled page, fingers quivering as you skipped the first steps of the visual guide, darting your eyes down until you found what to read out loud next.
The urge to arch your back nearly overtook you as you read through the instructions.
You cleared your throat. “‘As soon as your partner is flat on their stomach, proceed to place a firm pillow under their hips to elevate them to place them at an ideal angle.”
Astarion quickly darted to his side, launching forward to grip a pillow on the far end of the bed.
You glanced to your side as soon as you heard the sound of laces being unfastened, freeing his cock with a hiss of pure relief.
He pumped it twice as if urging it to harden even more.
“Why did you stop?”
You jolted from how harsh he sounded, but his tone had an immediate effect on your clit, causing it to pulse more intensely than before.
The bed dipped and creaked under his knees as shifted before patting the side of your waist. “Up.”
You immediately complied, raising your hips high enough for him to place the pillow under them, effectively causing you to gasp.
Astarion smacked your backside softly, urging you, and you felt a gush of wetness spill down your folds as you clenched again.
“‘The legs must be pressed tightly together to further increase the tightness’,” you said, but your voice faltered as soon as his firm hands were suddenly on your thighs, ensuring you followed the instructions, which caused your swollen clit to be squeezed in between your soaked folds. “Gods…”
He pulled away at once. “You stop, I stop, darling.”
You immediately clenched hard around nothing, your body yearning for his cock.
“Please…” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than to tear the page apart and spread your legs to invite him in.
Tough luck.
Astarion was in no mood to cooperate with your request.
“You wanted to surprise me, didn't you?” he cooed, lovingly stroking your plump cheek before giving it a squeeze. “Then go ahead and show me how you can keep your pretty head focused whilst taking my cock.”
Another clench.
A more violent one this time.
Followed by a groan of frustration as you desperately clawed at the book, knowing you'd have to carry on.
“‘The other partner must straddle their legs from behind and…’” your voice cracked when he positioned himself atop your thighs, his cock already nudging at your entrance. “... and…” Astarion stilled right away and you groaned. “... and slowly initiate the act of p-penetration’.”
He seemed satisfied enough with your performance as proceeded to drag his tip along your folds, coating it in your wetness.
“Like so?” he then asked as he slowly began to stretch you open, earning a sob from you from how thick he was.
“Yes…”
His thighs caged yours, preventing you from parting your legs as he struggled to bottom out.
“Gods… why do you have to be so tight,” he hissed in frustration, probably realising this position wasn't all that favourable. “Keep reading.”
You wanted to protest, but you just couldn't speak as you tried to take all of him in spite of your tightness.
And before you could feel full with his cock, Astarion withdrew from you in one swift motion, causing you to almost cry out.
“No! No…no…” you sobbed, feeling your walls squeeze as if that would magically bring him back inside. “Astarion… please…”
He had the nerve to chuckle. “Trust me. I want nothing more than to sink all the way in, but we had a deal. Now, read.”
This was pure torture.
He was too good at making you crave him.
And you were too weak to resist him.
With newfound strength, you managed to move to the next step, sniffling. “‘A gentle pace should be initiated first, before setting for a more forceful one, with long and deep thrusts’...”
Just as expected, he was sliding back inside you once again, rewarding your perseverance.
“‘If there is any sign of discomfort, it is advised to halt at once’,” you managed to say in between throaty moans.
Astarion bottomed out before you could initiate the next sentence, letting out a delicious groan of pleasure.
You needed more.
You needed him to roll those sweet hips of his.
“‘It is advised to alternate the pace according to…’” A sobby moan left your throat as he slid all the way out before plunging back inside and setting a relentless pace. “... ‘...according to the partner's body language and vocal cues…’” You paused again as creamy lewd sounds filled your ears. It was getting harder and harder to keep your vision straight as he fucked you so good.
But, as soon as you failed to deliver an unwavering diction, Astarion stilled inside you, causing you to instinctively clench around his cock, silently urging him to move again.
“What's the matter, darling?” he mocked, caressing your backside with both hands, fingers digging into your flesh. “You wanted to teach me, so do it.”
There was nothing in this godsdamned book you could use to teach him.
And he knew it.
Astarion knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew what made it tick and what had you beg for more.
But still, you endured, as your lust for him overcame everything else.
“‘This position has been described as one that allows the partner on top to get as deep as possible whilst experiencing unprecedented tightness.’”
You weren't sure how you managed to say all of it in one go, but it was enough to have him slam into you harder than before.
It was almost embarrassing how easily soaked you got from being told what to do, but you didn’t care anymore.
And it seemed that Astarion was too lost in his own pleasure to notice you had stopped, so you allowed yourself to enjoy each thrust and groan you squeezed out of him.
He always sounded so pretty buried inside you.
His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he rammed hard.
As expected, his pace never faltered, but you wanted to give him more incentive and flipped the page, ready to commence your diction.
“‘The suggested position after–”
But before you could continue, Astarion snatched the book in front of you and sent it flying across the room with a growl.
“Enough of that idiotic book,” he snarled, lifting your hips. “On your hands and knees.”
He kicked the pillow from under you, without sliding out.
Your muscles were slightly numb from the previous position and it took you a moment to adjust yourself.
Once he was sure you were ready for more, he pressed a hand down your back, causing you to arch for him.
“You're too soaked for this to last much longer,” he said, sliding all the way inside, his balls hitting your swollen clit. “You don't need a book to have me come undone for you, sweetheart.”
You shuddered.
It was almost criminal how good this man was with his words and body alike.
Your mouth dropped open as soon as he began to speed up once more, wet and creamy sounds being heard in between the snap of his hips against yours.
The familiar coil in your lower abdomen signalled how close you already were with each slap of his balls against your clit. Judging by his grunts and less spaced out hisses, you could tell your own climax would trigger his.
But you needed more.
You needed the sight that would have you topple over the edge.
So, you looked down along your body, almost whimpering from the view: a single thick strand of precum mixed with your own wetness was dangling from your swollen clit, swaying with each thrust.
Gods…
You took a deep breath, embracing the wave of pleasure that was about to hit you as you struggled to keep your eyes open.
It came all at once and your arms quivered under you until you had no choice but to fall forward on the side of your face as your climax violently tore through your entire body, initiating a sequence of contractions that further had you tightening around his cock.
It was almost blinding and your mind blanked at once a string of moans spilled from deep without you, breath taken away from your lungs.
Astarion cursed loudly and you knew then, even through your haze of pleasure, that he had reached his peak.
Each contraction aided him in spilling himself deep inside you, your body craving his seed.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from your clit and how swollen it was, parting your folds. Then, you shot a brief glance at his handsome face, wanting to witness it contorting in pleasure and relief as he rode out his own climax.
As you came down from your high, you began to see the first drops of thick cum dribbling down his balls as he began to pull out.
By the time he was fully out, a gush of cum leaked out, coating your folds and dripping from your clit.
It never ceased to amaze you how hard he always came… the amount of cum was obscene to say the least.
He nearly lost his balance and you saw his cock completely covered in cum as he growled through clenched teeth, his fangs fully visible.
Somehow, your knees hadn't quivered and you remained in the same position for a while, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Eventually, you found your voice again. “You… shouldn't have thrown it away… it has some post-encounter care suggestions…”
Astarion was on his knees, his cock still hard and thick as his half-hooded eyes met yours. “Lay down.”
Was he not done ordering you around?
You chuckled weakly, but did as you were told.
He slid from the bed at once and you admired his backside as he sauntered across the room, taking a towel in his hand before returning to your side.
“On your back, darling,” he said, voice soft and caring as he placed a kiss on your flushed cheek. “Allow me to properly take care of you.”
You offered him a smile, eager for what was to come.
“You know, that was mean of you…” you said in between shallow breaths.
Astarion pressed a kiss to your forehead, parting your legs. “But was it fun?”
You chuckled, feeling your muscles sore. “No.”
He feigned hurt as he dabbed the soft towel along your folds, earning a jolt from you when it reached your oversensitive clit.
“Do not lie.”
A thick layer of his cum slowly dribbled from you, which he promptly wiped clean.
“It was mildly entertaining,” you groaned as he kept on pressing adoring kisses along your cheek. “I'm surprised you were able to hold back.”
“Oh, darling… I didn't.”
And for the next few minutes, you enjoyed the comfort that came with the silence of being next to the person you adored the most.
Astarion was a dedicated lover.
He would have you come undone for him, but he would ensure the after care was just as rewarding.
As such, he would clean you up and offer you water and even a bath. And if you couldn't walk? He would simply carry you.
But you never wanted it to be a one-sided courtesy.
He deserved to be taken care of just as much and you would often be the first to pat his cock clean with a soft piece of cloth.
Sometimes, you would aid each other simultaneously in between tired kisses and hugs, finding bliss in the trust that held you together.
Masterlist
#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion smut#astarion x you#astarion x f!tav
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The favour // fwb Chris
Warnings: (there’s a lot) heavy smut / dom Chris x dom fem reader / fingering / cunilingus / face sitting / wet grinding / collar kink / exhibition kink / riding / overstimulation / praise kink / degradation kink / doggy / princess kink / hair pulling / choke kink / wave riding / cream pie / breeding kink / slapping / sadism + masochism / cockwarming (erm… sorta)
Summary: you and Chris are best friends. And you just can’t seem to get off. Chris offers to help you. And it’s as simple as that.
Author’s notes: ah yes, my ‘politically correct’ piece of writing. If you do not like it. Y’all can leave it… go on I’ll wait. BUT ANYWAYS an epic battle of top vs top, goddamn, complete switch up from what I usually write, since I’m kinda known for writing submissive shit and mommy kinks hehe. I was so scared to publish this one but fuck it. I’m too deep in now to stop.
“Don’t try to take it further, focus on the friendship, get a little sidetracked…” - Best friends, The Weekend
‘You’re serious?’ Chris sputters with his eyebrows raised in disbelief and a small smirk on his face.
You shake your head and shrug your shoulders ‘I’m being dead serious bro, no one has ever been able to get me off’.
Chris blows out a flabbergasted breath, both of you lying side by side on your backs on top of his bed. He has his hands leisurely rested on his stomach, his fingers intertwined as his head sinks further into one of the pillows.
Chris and you are best friends. But you’re also both players. You don’t have a preference, you don’t care, you just like to get people off. And then whenever you hang out, you tell each other about your various different escapades.
It’s fun. You always enjoy hearing about the mirage of strange stories he tells you with little smirks over his face.
You sit in contemplative silence for a bit, yourself feeling a little awkward after expelling that uncalled for fact about your sexual wellbeing.
The white ceiling blurs as you refocus your eyes, but then you hear the bedcovers crinkle beside you, and then the sound of Chris’ body rolling over to you echoes within your ears.
Your breath hitches as he tosses one of his legs over your lying one, before hoisting his body over it completely. Then he sits back on his calves, his knees sinking into the mattress as his arms shoot out in front of him.
‘Chris what the fuck are you doing’.
His hands curl around the backs of your knees and you squeak a little in surprise as he flexes his arms to pull you vigorously toward him. Then he falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. Suddenly you feel his lower body press up onto your hips.
‘What the fuck do you mean ‘what am I doing?’?’
He spits sarcastically, groaning in effort as he lowers down further onto you by bending his elbows and lying them down onto the mattress.
‘I’m getting you off’ he mumbles before immediately nuzzling his nose into your neck. Your voice falters and your mouth drops open. Your thighs desperately want to squeeze together but Chris’ thick hips weighting down on your core prevent this.
‘If other guys can’t do it for you then I will’
‘Chris-’ you sputter, slightly in amusement, but also slightly in shock at the image of his body on top of yours. You feel his tongue, and it slicks out quickly onto your neck, the consistency hot and soft as your skin grazes his lips.
‘Let’s make some bruises first though…’ he muses teasingly into your neck. Then his mouth bites down and you hiss, finally putting your shaking hands to good use by clawing them at his shoulder blades.
He continues to kiss, and you throb, liquids trickling and your stomach churning in desire. Your nails curl and they make a slow descent down his back as you pant into the air. Chris smirks smugly into your neck, knowing that he already has you dripping wet for him.
‘Go on… scratch my back all up, I dare you’
He drawls out gleefully, finding the roots of your hair after one of his hands slithers under your head to tug it back aggressively.
You whimper, but Chris only licks his lips at the unmarked skin, his mouth watering at the attractive angle your head is tilted at. He can’t wait to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. He dives in again, and muffles his groans with your neck at the feeling of your back arching up welcomingly into his touch.
‘Chris…’ you try again, but it comes out as more of a sigh since you can no longer speak anymore words.
Suddenly he detaches his mouth from your neck, slithering his body down the length of yours as his nose brushes against every inch of your clothed figure on his way down. Your breathing is laboured, and you have to sit up onto your elbows to look down lustfully at the way his arms snake their way underneath your thighs, his chin resting on your pubic bone before he effortlessly lifts your calves up onto his shoulders.
‘Chris- a-are you seriously gonna’ you start before swallowing meekly and cutting yourself off at his eye roll.
‘When have I ever said something I didn’t mean, huh?’
His hands feel their way up to the waistband of your sweats before he hooks his fingers into it and slowly pulls it away. He goes until your panties are exposed to him and again, you try to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, but it only ends up trapping Chris’ head into a firm lock.
He smirks, before dipping his head down and softly kissing your clothed centre. You drip behind your panties when you feel his lips press against the burning skin, your heart beating in your throat. You swallow harshly again, your cheeks a heavily flushed pink, before Chris looks up once more with dilated pupils.
‘I’ve wanted to eat you out for so fucking long…’
Your back arches yet again in desire, but it doesn’t surprise you, both Chris and you hung out quite a lot, and went into very sexually explicit detail when you chatted, hence the obvious attraction. However, it doesn’t make it any less hot as he slides his hands up once again to slip off your last layer.
He allows your legs to drop from his shoulders for just a second so that he can take off both your sweats and your panties, leaving yourself exposed to his wet, cherry red mouth.
‘Please… squeeze your thighs hard baby, really wanna feel you, want you to fucking suffocate me with these pretty legs’
He pleads, his hands splaying out widely onto your inner thighs as he trails them back up to your core feverishly, admiring them and spreading your legs open for him as he goes before he props your legs back up onto his shoulders.
‘I’m gonna eat you out so good… make you think I’m the only man in the world capable enough to handle you…’
‘Please…’ is all you can breathe in return before a smirk carves into Chris’ face again at being able to coax you into begging for him.
‘That’s my good girl’ he praises quietly before gathering saliva into his mouth and spitting a thick jewel of it all over your core. It drips right down your throbbing heat, and Chris licks his lips whilst observing his work, before dropping his nose right onto your clit.
You hiss in pleasure at the sensitivity when he slides his face down your slit, his mouth kissing your centre hungrily as he grabs onto the tops of your thighs to squeeze them feverishly and keep you close to him.
‘We look so fucking pretty together with my face between your legs don’t you think?’
You whimper instantly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching you back at the slick consistency. Your hips buck, and you grind yourself down onto Chris’ face. He inhales with a dreamy smile on his lips before you look your head back down to him, yourself still propped up on your now shaking elbows. Chris’ dilated eyes flick up to connect with yours, and just as he does this, his tongue purposefully darts out so that he can lick a bold strip right up the centre of your clit.
Your chest rises and falls, and you mewl at the sensation of his tongue working along the spongy nerve. His eyes drop for a second, to close and simply enjoy himself as he licks away your sweetened juices, his nose constantly bumping and pushing against your tender clit because of how deeply he forces himself. However, now that the initial shock of Chris wanting to eat you out has worn off, you begin to feel your normal sexual tendencies seeping through your mind once again.
With that being said, as Chris sprawls out below you, licking into your heat and gripping onto your supple flesh, one of your thighs twitch, and somehow, you can’t seem to just let him try and get you off without adjusting the position to suit yourself.
Your thigh flexes and knocks into the side of Chris’ head, which catches him off guard. This then allows you to gravitate your hips to the side, causing a chain reaction within Chris’ body. He tips, then falls onto his back with a ‘humph’ before you are able to effortlessly gravitate your body up on top of his so that now, you are sitting on his face with each side of your thighs trapping his head onto the bottom of the mattress.
You smirk and grind down onto his nose evilly, but Chris only allows you to have this freedom of power for about 10 seconds. He continues to suck and kiss against you, but his toleration is not great, and you peek down to see that he is glaring up at you.
Soon, his hands slither their way up to your hips, and he roughly wrestles you off of his face. Rather violently, he throws you back down into your original position and you squeak in shock when he rolls back into his cozy spot in between your legs.
And so the fight for dominance begins. You fucking knew this would happen, it’s a spoken truth that both Chris and you are tops, so it was just a matter of time before something like this occurred.
Instead of putting his face back down there however, he leers up to you, his torso slithering like a snake’s as he arches his back and towers his crawling body over yours threateningly.
He looks bigger, more muscular this way. But it only makes you wetter in attraction.
Bringing up his right hand to his face, he lollipops his pointer and middle finger into his mouth, reaching them all the way down his throat so that he can wetly coat them with spit before taking them out and guiding them towards your lower half.
‘I’ve been waiting to do this for fuck knows how long…’ he begins in a chastising manner, now his long fingers finding your throbbing clit and stroking it slowly. ‘So I want to be able to watch your face when I eat you out’.
You have to quickly bite on your lip and feather your eyes closed when those two fingers slip inside of you, his thumb quickly manoeuvring to take over with rubbing your clit so both things are being done simultaneously.
‘And I can’t fucking do that if you’re sitting on my face like that can I?’ He begins to growl, reprimanding you as his fingers go at an agonisingly slow pace to teach you a lesson. Suddenly his left hand quickly comes to give the side of your thigh a harsh but playful slap. ‘So, be my good girl and stay fucking still for me whilst I have my treat yeah?’
‘And what if I don’t do as I’m told?’ You smirk and challenge him back, knowing all too well how this game goes, you’ve played it plenty of times before - Chris is just a little bit better at it than most people.
But he still has you dripping the same, even only as friends.
Something changes within Chris’ eyes in that moment. The softness of them hardens, and this little ordeal no longer feels like a kind and friendly favour.
You have a feeling he’s going to get rough with you in a minute…
Now the gaze he portrays is more ravenous, it morphs right before your very eyes and he looks as though he’s about to make a meal out of your body.
The hand wetly slipping in and out of you abruptly stops, and instead exits your hole, only to gravitate back up to your collarbones. Chris’ jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly at your defiance.
It’s as if he forgets that you’re just as dominant as him within the sheets, because he seems to want all of the control to himself… typical top behaviour. And it’s only a matter of time before you realise that the hand moving up to your collarbones is actually making its way up to your exposed neck instead.
Cupping your throat, his veined and sticky hand presses down onto it and slowly begins to put pressure on your wind pipe, choking you from breath.
‘I don’t think you have much of a choice baby… because I’ll make you’ he smirks, speaking to you and leaning his head down until his nose touches the tip of yours.
‘I don’t like it when you’re on top, so I guess I’ll just have to fuck you into a whiny little bottom for me, won’t I?’ He chastises you in a babied voice, as if he is talking to a small animal, which contrasts to his clamped hand that is now making you feel slightly dizzy with light-headedness.
You swallow, your heat gushing at the bruise-inflicting grip his fingertips have against your throat, and you think Chris knows that you are enjoying it just as much as he is.
‘Pretty little necklace for a pretty little neck…’ he mumbles, leaning his head down slightly further, just enough so that his lips can feather against yours. ‘I wanna find out how much I can make this pretty little neck scream’ he cheekily muses against your lips, before releasing his pressured grip slightly.
This allows you time to take in a huge, stuttering breath as you look up at Chris with glassy eyes.
The clang of a heavy belt undoing rings within your ears, the leather flapping against itself when Chris manages to slip it off with only one hand. You’re impressed. But there are only so many things that you can focus on at once, and currently you are still hyper fixated on the way his hand expertly chokes you from air.
‘Ahh fuck, I’m so hard for you princess’ He meekly whimpers onto your mouth after loosening the button and zipper to his jeans, only now just realising how furiously hard his cock is after slipping his hand down his pants and cupping it.
It throbs and leaks within his boxers whilst his hand grips against it to start jerking it. He feels so sexually pent up after discussing sex with you almost all day, not getting any of it himself until now. With that, and the added experience of licking you clean, Chris feels as though he could explode at any moment. But he’s too good at this for his own good, and can hold on for a while, he’s experienced at edging and has done it all before.
You whine rather loudly up onto Chris’ lips at the nickname, squeezing your thighs against his body once again.
This has him retracting his head up so that he can fully take in your face as he smirks once again, the devil dancing along his mouth and his eyebrows furrowing in confused pleasure.
‘Yeah? You like that? Has my pretty little girl got a princess kink?’
He raises his eyebrows at an antagonising rate, clearly getting off on teasing you as he works himself with his own hand back down near your hole.
You whine again.
‘Chris!’.
Shouting at him in embarrassment, you cover both of your blushing cherry cheeks with your hands, not wanting to admit to your friend that the notion of him calling you a princess makes your heart beat down at your clit.
‘I think she doesssss’ he drawls out within a singsong, poking you playfully with the hand that was resting against your throat. You squirm, before gritting your teeth. But then his energy changes.
‘Fuck, I actually think that’s really hot’ he groans into your ear gutturally, after rubbing against his own tip, now practically pressing his whole entire body weight down on top of yours and trapping you underneath him. But, you are not going to be fucking humiliated and degraded by Chris, no matter how attractive his dominating sex appeal may be.
So you push against his shoulders roughly, and once again it sends him flying to the side. He whimpers in surprise but you are already turning so that you can yank his hand up from out of his boxers. He moans aggressively at the lose of contact before he is widening his eyes and swallowing.
You then clamber on top of his lap, slapping one of your hands down onto his chest before he can push himself back up again. Chris looks at you with slightly erratic eyes, and you can tell that he really didn’t see that one coming. Good.
Slowly, you begin to swirl your hips, rolling them on his cock, which finally, gets him to falter. He weakens within your hold, his eyelashes feathering and his mouth opening slightly to let out another high-pitched moan. His back arches delightfully, and you glow in your newfound power, adoring looking down at a defenceless Chris who white knuckles the bed sheets and squirms around like a little boy.
‘Jesus- just like that princess’ he mumbles vaguely, panting, now also with two flushed red cheeks that acquire perspiration with every grind of your fluid hips.
Thinking that you’re not quite teasing him enough to match the kind of embarrassment that he just put you through, you shift your naked lower half down slightly so that you can sit on his thighs, clad within red Calvin Kleins.
Reaching your fingers into the waistband on either sides of his hips, you smile innocently before pulling down the stretchy fabric, allowing his reddened cock to spring free.
Chris takes in a shaky, heaving inhale, his head tilted back as he focuses on his breathing with his eyelashes feathering and his chest laboured. You take him suddenly and Chris rips a gasp from his chest whilst you feel around to get a perfect grip on him. It doesn’t take long however, because his prick is already perfect.
‘Jesus Chris, you never told me how big you were’ you mumble in admiration, having no shame in fixing your stare right onto his cock, your mouth practically watering at the angry vein lacing its way to his tip, his girth thick and lengthy. Chris finds it in himself to recover and smirk cockily at the compliment, already knowing how big he is.
‘Yeah? Think you can take me princess? Am I too big for you?’
His hands slide their way behind his head, giving it something to suavely lean on as his smug eyes glance down at the way you watch his prick. Gritting your teeth in annoyance at his clear show of dominance still, you grip it tightly before lunging your lower half forward to sit back down, this time so that his cock brushes heavily against your clit.
Chris squeezes his eyes tightly shut once again, knocking his sharpened jaw back as he curses up into the air and whines.
‘Think your cock can handle me?’ You bite back, flipping the question on its side as you slowly grind backwards and forwards over Chris’ sensitivity, his back now arched fully and his hands out to his sides once again so that he can grip onto his bedsheets.
He looks as though he’s about to lose consciousness, so your hand shoots forward and roughly grips his chin, forcing his head to glance upwards in a dizzied spell of pleasure.
‘Look at me pretty boy…’ you whisper, sliding your other hand that was once at his chest, down your thigh to squeeze it for Chris’ benefit. You know how much he loves thighs; due to previous conversations you have had in the past about them. His eyes are hooded and his mouth is open whilst he takes panting breaths.
‘I want you to watch me play with you’
His dilated eyes flit to the erotic sight of his cock disappearing in between your folds slickly after ever grind, the pleasure he feels from just watching blowing through the roof at the sensual exhibition of wet sex. His lips are moist, due to his tongue passing over them every couple of seconds.
‘Pretty cock for a pretty boy yeah?’ you pout playfully and shrug, which gets Chris nodding and babbling a distracted ‘Uhuh’, almost as if he is in a drunken stupor. But you enjoy it, nonetheless.
And it goes on like this for a while, before you stop and lift yourself from him, deciding that you have teased him enough. Grabbing his throbbing cock back within you hand, you squeeze him and angle him upwards with the intention of fully sinking down onto him this time, finally feeling the ache to ride him.
But, within your loss of concentration on his face and the vulnerability that comes with gravitating up onto your knees above him, Chris sees a point of instability. Looking at your wobbling legs, he realises that he can knock you off balance easily, and so grins devilishly, his mouth practically dripping with drool at the thought that spins within his head of a sexual fantasy he’s always wanted to recreate with you.
Quickly flexing his stomach, he crunches upwards to a sitting position, wasting no time in shooting out his hands and swallowing your hip bones within their expanse.
It all happens so fast.
But you squeak as you are caught off guard.
Chris quickly and effortlessly lifts you away from him, his biceps greedily flexing and giving you an eyeful before you are spun around fully and tossed onto your hands and knees. You hardly have any time to recover before you are choking out a moan because of the way Chris crawls up right behind you, also on his hands and knees.
Now, one thing about Chris’ room layout, is that at the foot of his bed, he has a walk in closet, and the doors to said closet are mirrored, meaning that currently you are staring at a reflection of yourself, with a ravenous Chris leaning over you.
You wheeze as he pounces forward, throwing his back over yours and using his left knee to kick one of your thighs apart so that your legs can spread to make room for him. You feel your stomach churn at the notion of watching Chris fuck you, your eyes fixating upon your animalistic reflections. He too looks at you both in the mirror, smirking at you in victory through the fogged glass, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to even the odds again in such a submissive position.
You choke, still not yet accustomed to how he had switched the power dynamic so quickly between the two of you, before he’s gripping himself and slipping right into your dripping hole.
You whine, your elbows buckling to the mattress at the stretched burn, which sends your front barelling to the duvet, sticking you ass further up into the air and pushing Chris ever deeper. Chris grunts, his stomach heaving as it rises and falls against your tailbone. His breath is hot on your neck as he admires the way he looks pushing his cock into you.
‘Good girl.’
He gutturally whispers into you ear knowing that you’re watching him speak this from through the mirror. His praise is slightly condescending, with a teasing twinge to it and you know that it’s because he’s bragging about getting the better of you.
You knew he was going to put up a fight for it, you just didn’t realise how rough he’d get.
‘Don’t you look like such a pretty angel on your hands and knees for me?’ He hums fondly, now leering forward on your back even further so that he can whisper directly into your ear, his eyes still absolutely fixated upon the mirror.
‘You’re practically begging for me to take you from behind’ he scoffs before simply sitting inside of you, refusing to move until you acknowledge him and admit to him that he’s right.
‘I’m not moving until you beg for it…’ he sticks up his nose, leaning on one of his hands whilst the other one slithers up your sweater that had drooped open with gravity to squeeze onto one of your braless tits and rub his thumb over your nipple. You roll your eyes, your cheeks flushed and sweating before you snort it defiance.
Chris soon looses his patience and removes his hand from its stimulating grip on your tit, only to bring it back out and hardly swat it against the side of your thigh.
‘Say it’
He bellows through gritted teeth, his hand softly soothing the now reddened hand print plastered over your thigh by rubbing over the stinging skin.
You grit your own teeth, hissing slightly in pain but still keeping your mouth shut. Chris delivers another slap, this time nearer to your ass and hurting a lot harder. Tears form within your eyes but you still throb the same, adoring how the waves of pain feel as they warmly spread through your gut and melt into pleasure instead.
You do want to desperately get off though, and so you swallow down your pride, being humiliated as a top once again today by breaking your stare from the mirror and twisting your head behind you so that you could look a lustful Chris in the eyes.
‘Please! I want your cock, please give it to me pretty boy… please’.
Chris seems satisfied enough with this answer, because he smirks, before reaching his hand underneath your chest and slithering it right up to your neck so that he can twist your head back around to face the mirror yet again.
‘There’s my pretty girl…’
His choking grip stays near your jaw as he forces you to watch the way he slowly begins to stroke in and out of you.
‘I jerk off thinking about you a lot y’know, imagining us doing something just like this, sometimes replaying it on the wall, on the floor… in the shower’.
As Chris reels off each of these different scenarios, you can’t help but picture each of them in your head as well, your eyes rolling into the backs of your sockets whilst you bite your lip and suppress a whine at the feeling of his tip reaching a sensitive spot within you.
He doesn’t stop there with his verbal onslaught however, for he keeps going, nearly moaning into your ear whilst mumbling ‘you always make me so horny when you come over princess.’
Which in part, you know is truthful, you just didn’t quite grasp how horny it really made him.
Sure you two talk about sex a lot, since it is primarily what adolescent minds are fixated upon these days- however you were not aware that it had gotten to the extent where Chris could no longer control his hormones anymore.
You know he’s good at suppressing these feelings, he did it too much to not be an expert at it by now, but you guess he just couldn’t help himself this time when the opportunity to give you a good dicking arose.
And fuck was he good at giving it.
‘From now on… if you need help with getting off, you come to me’ He possessively announces into the air as his motions start to make the bed rattle up against the thin back wall.
The bedroom window to his apartment is cracked wide open, which means anyone passing underfoot nosy enough to stop and listen in would no doubt hear your filthy moans as you fucked. Which you suppose isn’t really a bad thing in your minds, as it is yet again something that you openly discussed about in the past, coming to the unanimous decision that it both turned you on even more.
‘I don’t think-’ you try to speak but are abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain when he delivers another brutal slap to the skin of your thigh. It irritates you slightly, because you know exactly what he’s playing at.
‘The only word you should be fucking speaking is my name, over and over again princess, so I don’t wanna hear anything else out of that filthy little mouth of yours unless it’s to do with how good I fuck you’
This is humiliating and degrading as a top, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, the blood rushing to them as his cock thickly stretches you out and you have to take stuttering inhales to catch your breath.
Your blood boils and you go to shout back at him, but then you stop when something within your stomach flips, and the tickling pleasure intensifies, cooking and rolling within your gut. You have to press your face into his mattress to moan when an orgasm tugs at your mind.
You try to hide your face there so Chris can’t hear how noisy you’re being to protect your dignity as a top, but that doesn’t work, because Chris gets a surge of power that fuels his god complex every time he looks down at the submissive nature he had managed to force you into.
The hand cupping around your neck slides into the back of your hair and grips it roughly. A dull ache melts across the roots of it as he yanks your face back up again to watch the mirror. ‘Don’t you fucking dare’ he spits into your ear harshly. ‘When I said I wanted to hear you scream I fucking meant it… I want everyone outside to know how good I fuck my girl’.
He chastises you from through the mirror, his blue eyes glinting and oozing with masculine dominance whilst he admires the way your shoulders heave and you whimper into the air uncontrollably because of his doing.
‘Chris…’ you pant, not being able to help it anymore because you need to come, your body sweating and burning up as your eyes feather closed. Chris smirks, knowing that you would never willingly do as you were told like a submissive unless you absolutely had to, meaning that he had just done his job at getting you off.
‘Does my princess need to come?’ He teases into your ear, before letting go of your hair and reaching his hand underneath your body. He trails it down your stomach so that he can play with your clit, which only makes your stimulation even worse.
‘Chris please-‘ you whine, but you physically cannot get anymore words out because your brain is too concerned with chasing your high as your thighs begin to weaken and wobble within their stance. ‘Do you think you deserve to come?’ He questions, again teasing you with malicious intent as his thrusts suddenly slow, his pointer finger now circulating your clit at a lazy pace. This gets your high to diminish, which irritates you.
He is not fucking getting away with edging you, even if it means you need to beg for him.
So, as much as you hate it, you whine into the air, now grinding your hips backwards so that you can meet his forward strokes, which gets him to hiss unexpectedly and smirk from behind you.
‘Yes- yes I- please Chris please- I’ll be your good girl… I’ll- I’ll come to you when I need to fuck someone, I promise… just please- I wanna come… please…’
You cannot believe you are grovelling at his feet like this, you sound pathetic, but to be fair to him, it is worth it, because god can Chris fuck… you’re not too mad about him offering his cock to you whenever you need it either, even though that entails the idea of friends with benefits… and everyone knows that those kind of favours usually end in disaster.
But the favour is just too good of an offer to pass up.
Satisfied with your begging, Chris smirks once again, weighting his back down heavily and getting into a good position before he muses a quick ‘there’s my good girl’. He speeds his pace yet again, and the faster he goes the more your orgasm threatens to snap like a thread.
And it doesn’t take long, before you burst and give a final whine into the air, throwing your head back so that it hits his muscled shoulder whilst the heat of your orgasm melts down your thighs and spreads across your chest. Chris rides you through it, still stroking but this time thickly and slowly as your cum drips down his cock. Finally, after your orgasm is over, he kisses your temple and mumbles into your ear ‘such a good girl for me’ before caressing you and pulling out.
This makes you wince quietly, as his hands now soften against your body and help you lie down, sprawled across his mattress. As you come down from your high, Chris’ sweating body presence slowly slips away, and you hear the duvet covers crinkle beneath his knees as he stretches the expanse of his body over to his nightstand.
Hearing the wooden drawer scrape open within your ears and his hand rustling around the compartment you listen while you pant, trying to calm your sodden core and slow your heart rate down.
Closing your eyes, you breathe with exhaustion.
But you open them again when Chris comes back behind you, your head, that is resting on his mattress turned to look at the way one of his hands lean on the bed covers right in front of your eyes with his knuckles.
Then, metal and the flap of leather is heard within the ear on the other side of your head, your vision probably purposefully obscured from seeing the object by Chris himself.
Why did he have his belt with him?
Until you realise that when you feel leather sliding under your chin… it isn’t Chris’ belt.
His breathing is thick and his presence overwhelming as the smell of sex permeates the air. His hand that was resting right by your face then reaches forward so that he can grab the item and stop you from moving away from it.
You are now trapped from both sides.
‘Chris! What the fuck!?’ You question angrily before a deep and condescending chuckle is heard from behind you as Chris yanks your neck up by the leather and you feel the metal clip catch to fasten the collar tightly onto your skin.
He’s using his favourite collar… on you.
‘What? You didn’t think you’d get away with me not using this did you? It’s my favourite toy…’
You sit up with a mortified look on your face, gazing into the mirror at the simple black neck accessory. Chris smirks from behind you, admiring the collar and throbbing at the perfect fit it possesses over you neck. Leering forward, he uses his fingers to twist your jaw so that he can softly kiss against your lips.
It takes you by surprise, but you brush over the fact that you have a sadists’ collar on your neck in favour of hesitantly kissing Chris back. Each of you get lost within the twists of your tongues and the breaths you take, trying to coat as much of your scents onto each other as possible.
He moans into your mouth, grabbing at your face aggressively before one of his hands slides down so that he can play with the collar, tugging on the leather to pull you closer to him. To say he gets carried away is an understatement, because he sits back on his haunches as he grasps your thighs so that he can pull you into his lap.
Still kissing you, he mumbles into your lips ‘can my brave girl manage another orgasm?’
You falter, your lips stopping as you open your eyes to look down at him, not quite sure because of how sensitive you are, however… the tables turn after he adds some sweetness to the offer.
Kissing and grazing his teeth against your bottom lip he drawls a tempting ‘I want you to sit on my cock, so bad’. Something you weren’t quite expecting from someone like Chris, who is very obviously a control freak and rarely lets girls top. You suppose he makes a special exception for you though, because you can tell he wants to show off and exceed the expectation of not only giving you one, but giving you two orgasms back to back.
So you swallow, before nodding your head and letting Chris scoop his hands underneath your armpits so that he can lift you up above his reddened cock.
You screw up your face and whimper a little when he helps you onto him. Chris hisses and mewls quietly into your neck, trying not to let on to the fact that he had been sorely hard for a while with no stimulation after slipping out of you. Your walls ripple and sting slightly with sensitivity but you hold your wheezes down by focussing in on the way Chris willingly lets you sit on top of him without putting up a fight this time.
His hands rest on the curves of your hips, squeezing them and breathing raggedly as you start to grind. He bites his bottom lip and looks up at you with glassy, dilated eyes that gleam with arousal.
‘Shit, you’re taking me so well baby… want me to help?’
You nod your head distractedly, just grateful that he isn’t prepared to let your tired limbs do it all yourself. Your first orgasm has tired them and your clit is still aching, but as soon as he starts hoisting your hips upwards then smoothing them back downwards leisurely, you have time to catch your breath.
Your stomach clenches once again, your body exhausted but your mentality thirsting for another orgasm, which you’re sure Chris will have no problem giving you. This time however, it proves to be a lot more challenging to build you back up again, so Chris has to work twice as hard to please you.
The barrier between pleasure and pressure takes a while to break as Chris pants into the air, resting his forehead on your shoulder because of how good your walls feel squeezing around him. The cum from your first orgasm also makes it extra easier and even more erotic as he slides inside and out wetly, only making it twice as painstaking for him to hold on and not cum all over you himself. His narcissism simply doesn’t let his bodily needs win, because he cannot go back on his own promise of giving you a second orgasm and he would never let himself live it down if he did. He’s good at what he does, and he’s not going to sacrifice his pride simply because it’s you and he can barely control himself around your body normally.
‘You look so pretty when you come… I wanna see that face again’
Chris coos up to you, which makes you squeeze your eyes shut and look towards your bottom halves so that you don’t have to face his piercing eyes. Chris voices this as absentminded dirty talk, but of course there is also the secret notion of you returning more than once to get what you want from him hidden within the statement, hopeful and pining for your sex just as much as you pine for his.
‘Chris it’s a little sore still’ you whine to him, complaining at the pace he is going at, Chris only hushes you like you are a small child, before lunging upwards so that he can have your lips on his once again.
He decides he likes kissing you… a lot.
‘I know you can handle it’ he simply mumbles back, his fingertips digging into the fleshy part of your ass so that he can squeeze the skin in his hands and speed up your grinds. ‘Just gotta build you back up again’ he speaks once again, referring to working away your body’s sensitivity and turning it into a high once more after you start to get pleasure out of the strokes instead of pain.
So you two go on like this, into a period where you fall into silence, the only noises being your raggedy breathes, the gentle squeak of the wooden bed and the backs of your thighs gently hitting against the tops of his. You look into each other’s gleaming eyes, your noses almost touching and your hearts racing. your fingers thread into the back roots of his darkened brunette hair, the long silky strands running through your fingertips easily and making you smile at their softness
But after a while, you suddenly get restless, and your clit no longer begs for mercy, instead it melts into a hungrier sensation, and you feel as though Chris has successfully just gotten you out of the overstimulated slump of your first orgasm, readying you for your second.
‘Chris I- I think’ you stutter and swallow, suddenly grabbing onto his shoulders and squeezing them as your eyes widen in realisation. Chris raises his eyebrows cockily, because he knows what’s going to happen so, he lurches forward with you in his arms and your back lands onto his mattress once again.
Your head cushions between his two fluffed pillows and he takes up most of your personal space, right in between your thighs so that this time he can take over the thrusting. ‘Yeah? Is my baby needing to come again?’ He questions in a sultry manner, your thighs squeezing his hips in desire at how annoyingly confident and smirky he is.
‘Shut up Chris’ you say back with a blush decorating your cheeks, not helping the way you ache for him as his cock fills you up completely. After hearing this, Chris frowns, pulling out of you and then grabbing you so that he can effortlessly flip you around.
You yelp again with your stomach on the mattress and your face buried into the pillows, in so much pain because of the absence of his cock, which is intensified by the aggressive slap he gives the back of your left thigh.
‘Don’t be so ungrateful princess…’ he chastises you harshly whilst soothing his hand over your skin before spreading you out and entering you once again, which gets you to halt your whines and choke out whimpers instead.
Your toes curl as Chris darts out his tongue to lick a bold stripe right up your spine before beginning to kiss the back of your neck.
You hum an apology into the mattress, but only after Chris tugs on the collar with a ‘listen if you’re gonna give me attitude then maybe I shouldn’t be so nice… next time I might force you to give me head instead of giving you an orgasm if you’re not fucking careful sweetheart… how does that sound hm?’
Fumbling around, your shaking hands finally manage to steady themselves by gripping onto his duvet and white knuckling it.
Again, Chris tries to think about what kind of other things he can say to get you off quicker, because he too, is feeling like he needs to come pretty soon… and it has absolutely destroyed him to hang on for this long.
Wracking his brain as he thrusts, he then ponders the idea of trying something new, something that he has never done before but is willing to wager with you, because he’s not going to lie, the notion makes him harder than he’s ever willing to admit. He decides that it’s worth the try… not fearing at all about the reaction, since you’re the least judgemental person he knows.
‘If we weren’t best friends, I’d fuck a baby into you right now’ he rasps into your ear from behind you.
His front weighs heavily on top of your back as his left hand tangles within the strands of your hair, yanking it and pushing your face into the pillow to muffle your whines.
‘Squeezing me so nice and tight ma’.
But the comment only makes your back arch further into the mattress, your hands clawing and wringing against the duvet cover.
Chris smirks, before he thinks to milk it even further, considering the fact that it is working almost too well, even for him. Along with this… he is also not wearing a condom, knowing that his pull out game is strong. However, it only makes it feel all the more real to both of you.
‘My baby would look so pretty with your eyes….’ he adds on, slipping the top of your ear into his mouth so that he can tug on it.
His hips move at a gorgeous pace, ramming you into the bed whilst his other hand grips the headboard that bangs against the wall rhythmically.
‘I want to give you one so bad… you take me so fucking good princess… you’d be such a good mommy for me’
At this rate he’s going to get bruises all over his knuckles, but he really just doesn’t give a fuck. His main concern is getting you off for the second time this evening - this time with the added addition of his collar, straight after he finished you off the first time.
Your stomach flips in pleasure, especially after he whines ‘fuck… I never wanna wear a condom with you ever… you feel too fucking good wrapped around me like this…’
A pure animalistic kind of hold takes over your body within that moment, and you have to screw your neck into a turn to get it from out of the muffle of the pillows so that he can hear you clearly as you sputter ‘come inside me then- I’m, I’m on the pill’.
You know saying this will drive Chris insane, so you don’t hesitate. You feel as though there is a primal need within you to have his cum dripping out your hole, to make it clear as to who you belong to within that moment. Chris’ mouth falls open as he groans once again when he begins to pick up the pace at this lecherous comment, knowing that he is on the brink of coming. This sends him over the end.
As he rams into you, you feel him burst as he whimpers, letting all of his cum drip out uncontrollably from his tip as it mixes with the rememants of your second orgasm, each of your bodily fluids leaking and mixing with each other’s.
Taking deep stuttering breaths after his high, Chris practically collapses on top of you, both of your shoulders heaving as you suddenly collectively laugh in disbelief.
‘Shit...’ he mumbles into your hair, albeit a little starstruck at his impulsive decision to cum inside of you. You return with an equally as stunned ‘wow… um…’, before you both burst out giggling once again at what had just happened, each of you still hyper aware of his cock inside of you.
‘You wanna go pee?’ He affectionately muses, back to his friendly tone that you know so well, yet still very much naked in his lower half section. You chuckle, grateful that he cares about looking out for you with aftercare, yet also shrugging and snuggling down into the pillow lazily before you close your eyes.
‘Yeah… in a minute… can we just lie here for a bit though?’ You question sleepily, absolutely bone-tired from how hard Chris had railed you into his bed, to which he quips a quick ‘sure’ and plonks his head down onto your shoulder blades.
His heavy weight on top of your back feels oddly comforting, in a twisted, friendly way.
Finally, to end your little adventurous escapade, Chris reaches up his hands to take off the collar from your neck, making your heart squeeze a little as he mumbles ‘that was honestly some of the best sex I’ve ever had, thank you bro’ whilst pulling out the leather sex toy from underneath you.
You snort, and smile, knowing that what lies ahead of your changed relationship will simply be a lot more repeats of what happened tonight…
Author’s notes p.2: you’d think I’m writing whole ass books from how fucking long these things are, jesus… but anyways, the collar kink was an adventurous gamble and I’m not sure how I feel about it. However, The Weekend’s song Best Friends for sure inspired this piece of writing, plus I just love a old good friends w/ benefits Chris imagine, so I hope u liked my interpretation of it <33
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Everything About Your Future Spouse +Traits & Initials
🌹👤💍
(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
Hi it's Lunadream~ This is my first future spouse reading for you guys, so let me know if you wanna see more readings like this one.❤️ We will learn everything on your future spouse and specific details about them.
hope you find your message🥰
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 This is a general reading for many people!
(Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^
Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️
Pile 1🌹
Pile 2🪷
Pile 3💐
Pile 4🌷
Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 💕
Pile 1🌹
Sign energy: Cold, Darling, Concert, Silence, Provide, Saturn, Aries, 5th house, 4th house, Sun,✔️♒️♋️🫡
🌹All about your future spouse: I kinda felt there would for sure be some successful energy from this pile's future spouse lol. Not necessarily prideful but definitely they know their worth, and I'm typically seeing an entrepreneur/family business thing going on with you two😍🏠💼 I love this couple's energy so much. Idk why but I'm getting some of you may be Aries-Aquarius relationship or Aries-Cancer relationship. They could have Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Leo, or Cancer placements in their chart. Omg your spouse will know how to mix work and play so well!! Like one minute they are serious down to business and the next dragging you off to a concert and jamming out with you LOL🤣 You guys may tie the knot sometime in winter. It's in the cards my pile 1's this person WILL PROVIDE.💸💰💍 Like your future spouse will dedicate so much to their family, and they will make a great parent I'm hearing for those who are interested in that😭💗 Omg so like at their work space they are super cold and sooo different from the way they are at home with their spouse/family, at home they are literally so sweet to their partner and love playing with their kids but they DON'T PLAY at work oml like people they work with will have mad respect for your future spouse, I'm kinda getting boss energy so that could be because everyone is under your future spouse or working for them.😎🪜🔝 They show authority to others I'm seeing people greeting your future spouse like saluting to them (maybe they're in high position), bowing to your future spouse, ect. Your future spouse is so soft spoken and sweet with my pile 1's, meanwhile at work they may be more stern or harsh. They don't mind stepping on toes to give everything to their family.🥺💐💞 Ride or die for their family vibes. Seriously you will mean so much to this person, you will be a huge highlight in your future spouse's life. It's so sweet, so loving.🥹❤️
💬Initials: X, F, V, U, R
📍Locations: North america, North, Australia, South, Europe (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Entrepreneur, Public figure, Manager, Business owner, CEO, Finance, Artist, Politician, Media Influencer, Property owner, High status official, Entertainment industry
💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't believe it, I can't look you in the eyes, You left an impression on me, Come to your senses, I'm so tempted (😍)
Extra cards: Public image, Connection, Synchrony, Sagittarius, Cupid
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the red rose emoji~🌹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋
Pile 2🪷
Sign energy: Eyebrows, Decor, February, Train, Siren, Chiron, 11th house, Water, South node, Earth,🦋🍋😰🌁
🌹All about your future spouse: Okay so definitely getting water sign energy with this one. Your future spouse has such adorable traits!!😩💗 They may be born in february so Pisces is likely. Aquarius, Earth or Water placements too. They may work online or have an online business, it's something really clever and innovative I'm hearing. Your future spouse will have a very delicate occupation like it's nothing extreme or dangerous it's actually super simple and successful.😇📨 This may be designing, home related, advertising, ect. I just feel like their job is so sweet idk why. It really suits them and they have such a calm and gentle work space. Your spouse will make money online or that is a source for them💸💻💫 You may connect with them through social media or that is where you first see them. They are intuitive and have exceptional ideas, I feel like they really think out of the ordinary.💡 For some of you this spouse may have a job that requires getting on a train🚆 My pile 2's your future spouse will be unique and very interesting to you.✨️ They will heal your past, like you can depend on them.🫂 Their eyebrows may be a noticeable physical trait of theirs. Your future spouse may live near a bridge or water, also you guys may have a small thing of growing your own fruits or vegetables?? For some of you that may be the case, it's really cute omg.🥺🩷 This will feel like a very healthy relationship for you both, a breath of fresh air. I feel like this person can be whatever you want them to be, like they will change for the better for you.💗 Omg can can we talk about how worried they get over you?? Like if you get injured or they think the slightest thing is bothering you, they will ask you what's wrong and comfort you until you feel better.😢🌧💞 Like they just know. Your future spouse has soft siren vibes imo, not the intense scary kind but the adorable floppy fish vibes idk??😂🤣 They are just there for you whenever you need them💓 This is a really soft and innocent relationship you guys will have. :D
💬Initials: F, Z, L, W, J
📍Locations: U.S.A, Turkey, Hawaii, Indonesia, Australia (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Brand owner, Home design, Online marketing, Architecture, Interior designer, Online business, Editor, Graphic design, Freelance artist, Social media management
💌Messages from your future spouse: I get lost in your eyes, All you have to do is ask, I'll tell them myself, Have you thought of me lately? I think you're a great person (They love my pile 2's vibe😊🩷)
Extra cards: Above, Blood, Embrace, Union, Unrequited love
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink lotus emoji~🪷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋
Pile 3💐
Sign energy: Love letter, Wish, Spouse, Chiron, Long, Cancer, Aries, Mercury, 1st house, 3rd house,😭🥲🦇👅
🌹All about your future spouse: Wow interesting my pile 3's your future spouse is so recognizable, you will notice them right away.😍😍❤️ Prominent signs for them are Cancer, Aries, Virgo, and Gemini. They will be so into you from the start lol like serious about you. They will confess many times to ensure they have you, They could have long legs or something long in their appearance, their tongue could be.😶 Anyways they will speak to you first I'm hearing, it will not be hard for them to strike up a conversation with you. You will be shocked by their forward approach, they may be surprisingly honest in the beginning like "let's get this thing straight, I'm into you" kinda thing🤭❤️ But like once you become closer you will see how romantic and loving your future spouse gets with you!! They will compliment you and flirt with you so much, and probably the type to keep telling you they want to marry you.🏠🌹They are witty and romantic as hell. The type to brag about their family with you (if you have one) and tell others how in love with you they are. They will talk up my pile 3's so much.🥺💞 Their job may involve communicating with many people. Your future spouse will help you through things that have been affecting you for a while. You will really want to commit to this person I'm hearing, once they got you.. you won't wanna leave😝 They speak openly about the things they want and leave it out there waiting for you to fulfill them💋 Like saying they want affection without actually asking or telling you they're cold just to see if you'll cuddle them.🥺 This is so sweet, they know all the words to say to make you blush.🗣💌 Your future spouse will know they want to marry you upon first meeting or the early stages of the connection, also for some of you this person has been wishing and hoping to marry you or find you for a long time.⏳️ Once they have you they won't stop telling you how pretty/hot you are😳❤️🔥 They are great communicators, like really smooth.😎 Kisses with them will be💋👅 And hugs will be🫂😇 That is all I will say about that🙈 My pile 3's your future spouse will be so caring and doting to you, they will take good care of you guys!!
💬Initials: N, U, X, B, K
📍Locations: Canada, Finland, Peru, Africa, India (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Writer, Poet, Personal trainer, Motivational speaker, Public speaker, An activist of some kind, Family business, Preacher, Blogger, Screenwriter, News reporter, Broadcaster
💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't help myself, Just dance with me, I wish, There's distance between us, So what if we're a thing?
Extra cards: Listen, Kitty, Ego, Enchanting, Comment (Yeah they are one with their words💬❤️🔥)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the flower bouquet emoji~💐 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋
Pile 4🌷
Sign energy: Hater, Age, Walk, Leo, 10th house, 7th house, 5th house, Gemini, Moon, Chiron,🧱🦥🔞🦄
🌹All about your future spouse: There is a lot going on with this pile.🤯 Your future spouse is someone very important, on the top of success in their field.🔝💼 They are charismatic and good with all kinds of people, they know how to gain respect🤝 You guys may have a significant age gap with this person, I'm getting they are older than most of you. My pile 4's feel more youthful, that is the vibe I'm getting from you guys. Your future spouse has a masculine energy and approach to things, very dominant feel. I'm getting model/acting/CEO/millionaire/high up official vibes.✨️ Take what resonates but I am seeing not everyone will approve of your relationship with them.😬🚫 For some of you this could be your mom or someone who is protective over you, they may not want you to marry this person. Your future spouse will be very well off in terms of finance💸 I'm getting the vibe they may push you guys away at first, maybe you want to rush into things with them but they don't think you are ready.✋️🤨 They may put their walls up at first, but eventually they will realize you are worthy and successful in their eyes.👑💍 At first your future spouse will come off dismissive of you since they are used to having many admirers that get on their nerves, your future spouse may have issues with gold diggers💰🧲 I'm seeing people tryna put their hands on them and they're just like 🙄 get the fk away. LOL they hate it. Everyone thinks they are one of a kind and want a piece of them, your future spouse will recieve so much attention.👀 Also people will be jealous of you and your spouse like why her/him??😒😤 Your relationship will be sought after by many. Your future spouse may also take walks often, that could be something you two do together.🥰 They will protect and provide for my pile 4's, nothing will get in their way of you guys seriously.🥺❤️ When you two are finally committed things will get spicy aswell❤️🔥
💬Initials: W, C, M, T, D
📍Locations: Turkey, Hawaii, Canada, Brazil, Thailand (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Public figure, Business owner, Entertainer, CEO, Entrepreneur, Model, Acting, Investor, Marketer, Producer, Fashion industry, Brand ambassador
💌Messages from your future spouse: You're talking nonsense, Smile for me, We might move too fast, You're my addiction, Listen up (Lol they're like listen here pile 4 you belong to them😭👇)
Extra cards: Skin, Beach, Compulsive, Beloved, Expand (I'll leave it to you guys imagination on that one😳)
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
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#pick a pile#love reading#astrology reading#daily tarot#tarotblr#free tarot#love tarot reading#tarot pick a card#pick a photo#tarot#tarot pac#love pac#pac future spouse#pac reading#pac tarot#tarot readings#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#divination#love tarot free#future lover#future spouse#astrology readings#pick a picture#pick a card#pick a image#pick a reading#pick an image#channeled message#psychic
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In a world of boys, he’s a ✨gentleman✨
Summary: based on this request - your friends help walk you through all the nice things Azriel does for you
Author’s note: I forgot all about this tbh lmao why was this just sitting in my drafts all alone
“I think Azriel has the best manners,” Feyre says, her cheeks glowing from the wine, wisps of brown hair coming out from her braid.
“And the biggest wingspan,” Mor adds, raising her blonde eyebrows.
“I’m serious,” Feyre turns to Mor, “he’s so polite, he cleans up after himself, he treats (y/n) like a queen, he-“
You choke on your wine. “Treats who like what?”
Mor slaps your shoulder, causing you to almost spill your glass. “Oh, do not start this again, I will scream.”
“Start what?”
Mor rolls her eyes, falling back on the couch, “pretending like you don’t know how nice Azriel is to you.”
Your face heats involuntarily. “He’s very nice to me, I’m well aware of that. He’s a nice guy.”
Mor groans, getting up for more wine, “see! This is what I’m talking about!”
Nesta and Feyre giggle, but you sit up, “what do you mean what you’re talking about? What is wrong with me thinking that he’s nice to me?”
Feyre’s giggles continue, “it’s not that, sweetie. It’s just… he’s exceptionally nice to you.”
“So? We’re friends.”
Mor chimes in, “if any male was as nice to Nesta as Azriel is to you, Cassian would slit his throat.”
“Cassian’s more of a hands-on brute, but I see your point,” Nesta corrects.
“Friends don’t act like the two of you do,” Feyre muses, refilling her wine glass.
Soft touches, sitting needlessly close to each other at gatherings, Feyre catching the two of you napping on her couch on multiple occasions.
“He always blushes around you,” Elain observes.
Images of Azriel’s reddened cheeks and ears flood your memory, and how adorable you’d find it.
“He always asks you if it’s okay for him to pick you up to fly.”
A montage of soft “may I?” and “is this okay?” flutter through your mind. His soft touches of your hair when you’d take off, knowing it was your least favorite part, trying to comfort you in some way.
“He pulls out your chair for you at every family dinner.”
“-and plates her food!”
Azriel’s scarred hands grab the back of your chair, a soft scraping noise filling your ears, replaced by your soft “thank you”.
He sits next to you, grabbing your plate reflexively, piling it with roast, carrots, and potatoes, knowing to avoid the celery.
You thank him again, oblivious to Cassian’s exasperated arm movements at the two of you, as well as Nesta’s immediate swatting of him.
Elain giggles, “he always comes by every Sunday asking me to help him arrange a bouquet for her.”
Nesta smirks as the other two females let out soft “ooooh”s, as if you all were gossipy teenagers. Maybe you were. Your eyes draw towards the bouquet sitting on the table in front of Elain, the pink and yellow hues making you smile.
“He always has a hand on you whenever you’re out in town.”
The warmth from his hand is a welcome presence on your lower back as you two push through the crowds of the Velaris stalls. You prefer going out into town with him in tow - he was much taller than you and could see over the crowds.
Not to mention how he carried all of your bags and you spent the rest of the day catching his scent on your clothes afterwards.
“I’m not even sure you own your own coat from him lending you his.”
Nights out at Rita’s always ended with the two of you walking along the Sidra, his arm around your shoulder. He’d always wait for you to start shivering before placing his coat around your shoulders, helping your arms into the sleeves.
You scratch at your neck, uncomfortable with all the attention on you. “That doesn’t mean anything… right?”
Mor huffs, dramatically falling back on the couch after draining her glass, “I can’t explain this again.”
“Ask him out,” Feyre says, while Nesta nods her head, “just do it.”
As if the Mother herself were in the room gossiping with you all, Azriel strolls into the room, a bit shocked when five pairs of eyes peer back at him, amusement in four pairs, adoration in one pair.
You can’t help the smile that graces your face when you see him, and Nesta loudly placing her cup on the table jolts you out of your trance.
“Will you- would you,” you clear your throat, rushing the words out before you get too scared, turned in your seat to peer at him, “would you like to have dinner? Tonight? With me? Alone?”
Mor and Feyre are trying, but failing, to hold in their giggles at your nervousness, but you have completely forgotten they were in the room with you.
Azriel’s lips curve into a smile, “I would love to. I can pick you up at 7?”
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#azriel x y/n#acotar writing
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So there’s a trend that I absolutely hate in online discussions of (non-satirical) genre, particularly genre that’s influenced by the gothic. This trend makes my eyes roll back in my head until I can see through my own skull. It makes me want to bite a car in half. It makes me want to step into the jellyfish tank at the New York Aquarium and beg for the sweet sweet annihilation of a thousand stings.
I call this trend: Oh Just Be Sensible, and it goes like this:
“Why do vampires always end up covered in blood when they feed, I don’t spill soup all down the front of my shirt when I eat dinner. Real toddler energy.”
“Why do people always cut their hands to swear oaths, everyone knows it would hurt way less on the [insert body part with fewer nerve endings]”
“Vampires shouldn’t be feeding from people’s wrists, it damages the tendons, if doctors don’t take your blood from your wrist, vampires shouldn’t either! No one will be able to flex their fingers the next day.”
(This comes up a lot with vampires, I mention, as I stride purposefully into the glistening mass of jellyfish.)
There are direct answers for some of these when it comes to the practical visual language of a particular medium (for example, you cut your hand on stage / on set because you can hold a blood pack in there, and even if you don’t have an effect, the gesture and its purpose can be discerned from the nosebleeds) but what really gets me is how thematically boneheaded this sort of observation is.
Like, let’s go down the list here.
Why do vampires end up covered in their victims’ blood? Well Scoob, do you think it could maybe have something to do with their bestial, inhuman nature? Or with the erotic and sensual abandon with which they can approach violence, now that they’re untethered from human morals?
Why do people cut their hands to swear oaths? Aside from what I mentioned above, do you think maybe it’s because it adds a layer of gravity to see two people swearing an oath to one another with blood dripping from their clasped hands? Do you think it’s maybe to evoke a unity of body, something greater and more primal than a unity of word? Or maybe to remind us of the dire consequences of breaking a blood oath?
Why are authors having vampires feed from people’s wrists if it damages their tendons? Damn, maybe that’s because it’s where the pulse is. You know, the pulse? The heartblood, the thing that races when you’re scared or turned on or both? The thing that stutters when you’re close to death and could, should the author choose, ring in the vampire’s ears like a chime or a great pounding thunderclap. Maybe in a story about undead beings who drink blood, we can sacrifice a bit of sensible reality in order to enforce the emotion and thematic heft of a scene?
Images like these communicate what is happening between two characters, not just the events that are transpiring! No one making stories forgot to consider ~sensible~ little observations, because it would be absolutely inane to consider an observation with the creative value of a wet paper towel. This stuff is part of our visual language for a reason! Themes also need to be communicated!
God, like, okay, I’m exhausted and the aquarium staff keeps yelling at me when they find me here, but let me just wrap up by saying that relationships, character and meaning are expressed in so many ways beyond dialogue or internal monologue, and those expressions are so rarely sensible.
(Also all this shit looks cool as hell, do you really want your protagonists swearing to die for one another by dabbing their slightly bleeding elbows together, grow up.)
#me: don't make me tap the sign#sign: fun allowed#(thematic clarity and character relationships should trump sensible realism every time)#(realism is fine! but monocle popping smirky little 'hmm I think dan brown was an idiot' smugness is just....bad!)#(it's bad and it makes for bad writing!)#my thoughts about books
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NFWMB.
PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader
TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.
WORD COUNT: 1945
PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.
warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.
author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3
You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.
You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.
So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.
You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.
Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.
“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.
“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!
You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.
“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”
She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.
“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.
It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.
After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.
Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).
Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.
“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.
“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.
He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.
“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.
“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.
You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.
“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.
“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.
“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.
“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.
“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.
The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.
“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.
“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”
“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.
“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.
That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.
“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”
Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.
Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.
You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.
“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.
“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”
Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.
“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.
Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.
“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.
#✿ . . cami writes#skz x reader#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids scenarios#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x female reader
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You
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.
Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.
Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!
_______________
Angry.
That’s how I felt.
At myself. At my dad. At John B.
When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.
Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.
Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.
It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.
Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.
Until, I didn’t.
It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.
My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.
Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.
JJ.
“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.
I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.
Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.
My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.
_________
I hated this sign.
My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.
It served as another reminder that my brother left me.
I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.
Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.
And then, there was JJ.
JJ was special.
He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.
In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.
I blew out a breath.
Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.
When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.
But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.
What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.
The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.
“You ready?”
Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.
If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.
“I go where you go.”
JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.
“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.
In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.
Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”
“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”
He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”
My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.
I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.
“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”
“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.
Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.
I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.
You matter.
You matter.
You matter.
But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?
Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.
There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.
I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.
He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.
The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.
JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.
Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.
A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.
“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.
I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.
He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.
My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.
His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.
“Do you believe me now?”
JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”
A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”
“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”
My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.
He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.
So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.
JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.
Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.
Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.
Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.
A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.
"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.
A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.
The effect he had on my body left me stunned.
My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.
His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.
His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.
The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.
JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.
He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.
I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.
JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.
He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.
I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.
“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”
Stacey Williams had this thing about her.
What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.
That fact alone made me nervous.
Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.
Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.
People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.
“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”
She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.
“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”
My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.
“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”
I winced. That’s all I was to him?
I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”
I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”
Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”
Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.
“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”
The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.
I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.
I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.
But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.
Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.
Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.
Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.
I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.
My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?
Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.
Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.
“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.
Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.
JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.
“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”
“Listen, if this is about what I said-“
“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”
I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.
“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.
“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”
It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.
My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.
JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.
Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“
“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”
“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”
“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”
“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.
A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.
My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.
Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.
When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.
His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.
I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.
“Listen-“
“No thanks.”
“If you would just-“
“Go away.”
“Can you please stop acting-“
“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.
“I dont want to talk to Sta-“
“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“
“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.
My mouth opened and closed in shock.
“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.
“Then why are you still talking to me?”
“Because it’s you.”
Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“
“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“
“She wasn’t wrong.”
He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.
My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.
“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”
I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”
I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.
JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”
“Then leave-“
“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”
My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.
“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”
His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.
“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”
My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.
“But you said-“
“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.
In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.
“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.
At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.
Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.
Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.
Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”
Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”
His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.
“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.
“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.
“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”
Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.
“You said I was just some girl.”
JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”
“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.
“Good thing I have a truck.”
“But she-“
He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.
“You’re the only one I want.”
JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.
My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.
JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”
The words never crossed my lips.
He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.
His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”
Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.
JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.
My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.
Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.
A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.
White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.
My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.
JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.
He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”
______________
I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)
Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe
#jj maybank#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank masterlist#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#obx#obx fanfiction#obx smut#rudy pankow#rudy pankow smut#JJ maybank imagines#outer banks smut#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks imagines#outer banks fanfiction#obx3#obx jj#obx imagine
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Touch - A Joel Miller One Shot
Summary: Inspired by that GIF. You know the one. Yeah. Nuff' said.
Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, however they do have hair - length or colour not defined. Otherwise it’s you, bub.)
Word Count: 1.7K
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Oral M receiving/some belly worship/Joel all wet and in a towel.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: The brain rot happened when I saw those GIFs floating around again this evening... this is the result of said brain rot. 🫠
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
As he steps out of the shower, padding barefoot across the floor, a threadbare white towel is wrapped snugly around his waist; its thin cotton fibres absorbing the lingering pelts of water that cling to his skin.
The towel, worn from years of faithful service, is slightly frayed at the edges and clings to his behind tightly.
Droplets of water cascade from his damp hair, trickling down his skin in rivulets, leaving behind a trail of tiny, glassy tracks that catch the dim light of the dingy room. The air is filled with the ghostly aroma of his soap, a crisp blend of eucalyptus and mint that lingers on his freshly cleansed skin wafting out at you.
Standing before the small, chipped mirror hanging on the wall, Joel lifts a wide-toothed comb, its teeth glistening with tiny diamonds of water caught from his damp hair. With practised precision, he draws the comb through his strands, guiding them back from his forehead in sleek, smooth strokes.
Each pass of the comb tames usually unruly locks, coaxing them into submission as they cling to the dampness of his scalp. Each stroke brings a sense of order to the chaos, as they yield to the direction of his swift hand.
The dampness of his hair lends it a sleek sheen, accentuating the natural texture and revealing shades of chestnut and mahogany hidden beneath the shimmering silver layers.
As he combs his hair back, the flex of his arm reveals the taut strength that lies beneath the surface, the muscles contracting and releasing with fluid ease. Reflected in the mirror, his image takes shape, the chiselled contours of his bronze, weathered face defined by the stark contrast of wet hair against skin.
There's a sense of cool composure about him, an aura of strength and resilience that radiates from his every pore. Drops of water pool and cling to his temples, tracing a path down the curve of his jawline before disappearing into the recesses of the towel wrapped securely around his waist.
His posture exudes confidence, his towering stance commanding as he gazes intently at his reflection - the determination in his eyes mirrored by the unwavering resolve of his physical presence.
Then, those deep, trenching eyes find yours in the mirror, enticing you to crawl off the end of the bed towards him. Revelling in the feel of your palms sliding up his broad back and over his shoulders as you press ornate kisses into the centre of his spinal column.
He smells really good; a carbolic free scent of freshly clean skin and musk. You inhale as you run your nose against the expanse of his upper back, cheeks resting against cool, drying skin.
Joel turns to face you, briefly catching your lips against his whilst your fingers untuck his towel, letting it fall to its death around his feet. And you can’t help but follow as you lower yourself down on your knees, admiring up at him.
You kiss over the thick shape of his hips, the swell of his paunch, lick over his slotted belly button with a gentle hum. Trace each little freckle and scar and jagged stretch mark.
Kiss over his fingertips as they find your lips, nip gently at his thigh, slip your tongue into the high crease of it; a flurry of damp, fuzzy hairs tickling at your jaw.
His own thick fingers curl around his hardening cock, holding and stroking himself as your hands run over the soft, downy swell of his belly again. Letting your fingertips circle around the grey, silken hairs and golden, sun-eroded skin that's warm. Splaying your digits to reach wide and far over him; the scent of his cock inches from your face as he gently pumps.
You reach your arm up, stroking over his stacked chest; fingers gliding over puffy nipples and soft hairs that are smattered and patchy with grey. You stroke down his bicep, his forearm as he works his turgid cock inside a hefty calloused palm. Feel how the solid sinew and muscle moves and flexes with every stroke under your touch.
You run your fingers in the dark hairs that cover his arm and watch enthralled at his strength. Joel strokes a thick, weeping cock in his palm as your eyes drop to it and you lick your lips.
“Ya want it?” Joel entices, his voice a low grizzle of gravel.
Smirking, you nod up at him as he takes your exploring hand in both of his and slides it down his groin until you’re curling your fingers around his thickness.
“Have it, darlin’. S’all yours.”
His cock is magnificent, a work of art. Flushed a tanned pink, uncut head swollen and wet. A shaft pebbled with swollen veins and ridges, a small puff of hairs at the base.
Tongue barely tracing the tip, your breath is a soft tease leaving him hissing in want already. You lick under his length, gentle laps of your tongue from base to tip; end flicking over the frenum and making his thighs buck at that sensitive spot.
You love the way he twitches on your tongue. The way his jaw tightens as he grinds down on his teeth, the strangled little grunts he makes as he breathes.
You kiss his head like a long lost lover, making out delicately at a pace that is sufficiently cruel in its tease. Lips puckering over him as you suck the bulb in; you circle around the rim, hands free, lips rolling over the tip and tongue still continuing that heady tease. Your hands stroking over his heavy thighs, sculpted with muscle, you can feel them ripple beneath your touch.
“You taste so good, Joel… So hard for me.” You whine.
You suck off the crystalised bubble of pre-cum seeping out of him; a simple purse of your lips around his tip, sweet salt flooding on your tongue.
Thick around your lips, he slowly goes all the way down as you open wider.
You’re a vision; hollowed cheeks, swirling tongue. Joel gulps; a stray, grey curl falling across his forehead as he stares down at you panting. Wanting.
Wanting nothing more than to pick you up and fuck you senseless; drive you deep into the mattress hollering his name, but his feet stay planted in place, your hands on his thighs and lips sucking around his cock.
“Look a’me,” he husks as your mouth opens around him further to take him in deeper.
Your eyes flit up to his - two darkening orbs staring down at you, pink velvet lips parted.
“That damn mouth, darlin’...” he groans looking skyward. Eyes glazing over and neck cords beginning to rise and twist. “Fuck, that’s good. God damn.”
Massaging his balls as you suck him in deeper, your nose presses into that warm, puffy skin and breathes in the scents of bergamot and flesh.
He starts to rock his hips, fucking gently into your mouth. His giant palm coming up behind your head as he slides further down your willing throat.
You love the touch of him, fingers tightly wringing at your skull, roots of your hair getting snagged. You work him up and down with your lips clamped tighter around his cock. Tongue massaging against his shaft, fingers massaging around his firm balls.
“Ya so good at sucking my cock.” He grunts.
“My cock, Joel.” You correct, a string of saliva threading from his shiny head to your lips.
“Always yours, darlin’. So fuckin’ pretty like this for me, ain’t ya? Fuck.”
You bring him to that point; that moment when he feels like he can’t hang on much longer. Your mouth popping off the end of his head and simply going back to just licking him, enticing a small growl at the back of his throat.
“Darlin’-” he warns.
“Joel.” You reply coyly with a smirk.
He likes the agony, you can see it in his eyes, despite his lips curling back. That beautiful excruciation when he’ll not quite leap, but will teeter dangerously on the edge and sway. It’s fucking gorgeous, the precarity of it all. The weakness in his strength, the painful desire in his eyes.
How his hips involuntarily buck and his thighs shudder. How his balls pull tighter in their swell around your fingers. How his cock flinches and throbs as your tongue brushes over sensitive spots. How you bring him to his knees with just your mouth. Tongue swirling around and lips closing over the head as you suck him back in.
“Bet ya so wet for me, ain’t ya?” He groans, watching himself slide into your hot, wet mouth with a fevered pace now.
You want it, want him. Hard and thick in your mouth like this. Heavy against your tongue. It makes you wet, makes you positively buzz and flare for his fat cock inside your mouth.
You squeeze your thighs together, your slick already dripping out of you.
“Mhm.”
“Fuck.” He feels the vibrations on his head as you hum and murmur.
He always knows. Knows how you’re so wrecked for him. He pops out your mouth as you fist your saliva around him.
“Joel. Come for me. Please. Let me taste you. Let me please you… come for me, Joel.”
He grunts at your soft compulsion, the way your skilled tongue slides over his tip, teasing into the slit and tasting the glossy liquid that drips silky out of him.
You pump him faster, palms on either side of his cock, pulling back and forth, as he whines above you; a broad, towering totem of grunts and pants.
“M’gonna come.” Joel takes his cock and pumps fast. An explicit snarl lacing around his teeth. Flared nostrils and a strained neck.
Roped, veined hand manhandling his cock as your mouth opens and your tongue rests on the underside of his head, waiting for your thick, creamy reward.
“Lemme see.” He groans.
You open your mouth wider as he spills out in plentiful squirts into that wet flesh. Sweet expletives crack from him, gasps and wheezes tumbling out of his mouth in the giddy frenzy.
Pearly froth on your tongue, you suck and lick him clean, making his legs fully buckle.
A hefty hand brushes through his hair; damp grey curls fluffing up again with the heat coursing over his skin.
You lick your lips, holding his stare as he strokes down the side of your face with a thick finger; deep chocolate eyes melting down his cheeks, he regards you for a few moments looking all the way up at him with a blooming smile.
Breathing out, Joel juts his chin out at you with a single nod towards the bed.
“Your turn, darlin’.”
Thank you so much for reading this Joel story. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are always welcome, as are re-blogs if you liked what you just read. Many thanks! 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#jett's writing
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here's a list of mozilla add-ons for all of you tumblrinas out there to have a better internet experience
also, if you like my post, please reblog it. Tumblr hates links but i had to put them so you adhd bitches actually download them <3 i know because i am also adhd bitches
BASIC STUFF:
AdGuard AdBlocker / uBlock Origin : adguard is a basic adblock and with origin you can also block any other element you want. for example i got rid of the shop menu on tumblr
Privacy Badger : this add on will block trackers. if an element contains a tracker it will give you the option to use it or not
Shinigami Eyes: this will highlight transphobic and trans friendly users and sites using different colors by using a moderated database. perfect to avoid terfs on any social media. i will explain how to use this and other add-ons on android as well under the read more cut
THINGS YOU TUMBLINAS WANT:
Xkit: the best tumblr related add on. with many customizable options, xkit not only enhances your experience from a visual standpoint, but provides some much needed accessibility tools
bonus: if you are into tf2 and wanna be a cool cat, you can also get the old version to add cool reblog icons
AO3 enhancer: some basic enhancements including reading time and the ability to block authors and tags
YOUTUBE
Return of the YouTube Dislike : pretty self explanatory
Youtube non-stop: gets rid of the annoying "Video paused. Continue watching?" popup when you have a video in the background
SponsorBlock: gives you options to skip either automatically or manually sponsors, videoclip non music sectors and discloses other type of sponsorships/paid partnerships
Enhancer for YouTube: adds some useful options such as custom play speed, let's you play videos in a window and most important of all, it allows you to make the youtube interface as ugly as your heart desires. I can't show a full image of what it looks like because i've been told its eye strainy and i want this post to be accessible but look at this <3
PocketTube: allows you to organize your subscriptions into groups
YouTube Comment Search: what it says
FINDING STUFF
WayBack Machine: you probably know about this site and definitely should get the add on. this allows you to save pages and access older versions with the click of a button. while you can search wayback using web archives, please get this one as well as it allows you to easily save pages and contribute to the archive.
Web Archives: it allows you to search through multiple archives and search engines including WayBack Machine, Google, Yandex and more.
Search by Image: allows you to reverse image search using multiple search engines (in my experience yandex tends to yield the best results)
Image Search Options: similar to the last one
this next section is pretty niche but...
STEAM AND STEAM TRADING
SteamDB: adds some interesting and useful statistics
Augmented Steam: useful info specially for browsing and buying games
TF2 Trade Helper: an absolute godsend, lets you add items in bundles, keeps track of your keys and metal and your recent trades, displays links to the backpack tf page next to users profiles and more. look it tells me how much moneys i have and adds metal to trades without clicking one by one oh may god
IN CONCLUSION:
oooooh you want to change to firefox so badly, you want to delete chrome and all the chrome clones that are actually just spyware and use firefox
HOW TO USE MOZILLA ADD-ONS ON YOUR PHONE
if you already use firefox on android, you'll know there are certain add-ons compatible with the app, some of them even being made just for the mobile version such as Video Background Play FIx. while most of them are pretty useful, some more specific ones aren't available on this version of the browser, but there's a way of getting some of them to work
you need to download the firefox nightly app, which is basically the same as the regular firefox browser but with the ability of activating developer mode. you can find how to do that here.
once you've enabled it, you need to create a collection with all the add ons you want. i wouldn't recommend adding extensions if the creators haven't talked about phone compatibility, but XKit and Shinigami Eyes should work
also, don't tell the government this secret skater move, but you can try using both the regular firefox browser and nightly so you can have youtube videos in a floating box while you browse social media.
see? i can block this terf while Rick Rolling the people following this tutorial. isn't that tubular?
#zezo talks#firefox#internet safety#accessibility#id in alt text#this will get tagged as tf2 because mine heart desires and its mentioned like twice#tf2#long post#but it's worth it i promise#tumblr
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It’s Captain Now | Quinn Hughes
summary: when you take Quinn out for drinks to celebrate his captains announcement you push his buttons landing you up on his bed.
request: yes/no
warnings: mature themes, p in v, oral (fem and m receiving!), minimal degradation used (slut once), swearing.
word count: 2.59k
authors note: okay so I definitely got carried away with how I wrote Quinn in this but it’s for his captaincy so I can’t get bashed for going big. Ending is a bit rushed because I want to go to sleep but I wanted this out today. Sort of felt like a full circle moment for those of you that remember the first smut I did on here with Jack and Quinn’s best friend so I figured it was only fair to do a Quinn and Jack best friend one 😭
Quinn’s brain was playing against him tonight.
You looked good in your little blue dress that barely covered your ass as you leaned over the bar counter to get your drinks.
The hockey player had to say that your strict instructions making him stay sat because this was your treat was something that Quinn enjoyed when you sent him a cheeky grin.
He knew it was wrong thinking about you like this, but Quinn knew that there was no other way for him to see you. Not after the summer.
The sound of your laugh erupted through the house as Jack threw you over his shoulder “let me go Jacky!” You groaned banging your fists on his back.
Quinn looked up from his phone as he heard the noise “can you not kill her before the rest of the boys get here?” He asked smiling as you were thrown onto the couch next to him.
Your breasts bounced in your bikini making it a sight for sore eyes “you’re no fun now that she lives with you.” Jack pointed out as he sent his brother an irritated look.
However those negative feelings were short lived as the knock at the door pulled the younger Hughes boys attention away from the way you smiled at Quinn “I’ll be back.” Jack announced making his way to the door.
The Canucks player had to say that he was surprised when you stayed on the couch with him “don’t you want to see your friends?” Quinn asked cocking his head.
You were quick to shake your head “like sitting with you,” you reached over to tap his nose letting out a giggle at how he scrunched his face “roomie,” you added using his new nickname.
After you graduated you couldn’t find an apartment in Vancouver so Quinn offered you his second bedroom. Not a single thought of hesitation went through your mind when he offered it to you because over your time in Vancouver you grew to love Quinn, in ways you shouldn’t love your best friends brother “you better not be avoiding me y/n!” Trevor called out making you both laugh from the couch.
You got up “wouldn’t dream of it ass hat!” You smiled running over to the boys as you left Quinn to watch you get pulled into a hug by the New York native.
As the eldest Hughes boy felt his heart grow green with jealous he knew it only meant one thing, that Quinn Hughes was in love with you.
You snapped your fingers in front of Quinn’s face “you good?” You asked cocking your head as Quinn seemed to come back to you.
His cheeks were red as the image of you in that stupidly small bikini was still in the front of his mind “y-yeah…sorry,” Quinn was quick to apologise as he chugged back some of his beer.
Despite the fact that you knew something was off you decided to not dig into it “how are you feeling about the news captain?” You smiled innocently as you turned to face him fully.
Quinn felt his jeans tighten as you used his new title “oh my god.” You slapped your hand over your mouth watching him puff out his cheeks.
That was his tell tale sign that he was horny and you had picked up on that years ago “what?” Quinn asked when you threw your head back with laughter.
Part of you wondered if you should really let him know “have you got something you want to tell me captain?” You teased placing your hand on his knee as he repeated his original reaction.
Now Quinn figured out what you were playing at “stop it!” He groaned growing embarrassed.
The teasing didn’t stop during the night, in fact it actually got worse. It continued all the way until you two got home “thanks for keeping me company cap,” you wrapped your hand around his arm as you used him for support as you took your heels off.
Just as you were about to walk away Quinn grabbed your hand pulling you back to him. Your body hit his chest before you looked up to him “you gotta stop saying that to me y/n.” He sighed cupping your cheek as he let the rough pad of his finger rub against the warmth of your skin.
You started to feel bad as you thought it was irritating him “not when you aren’t going do anything about the problem you’re causing.” Quinn added letting his voice float to your ear as his bulge rubbed against your thigh.
A groan left your throat as thoughts came through your head “didn’t mean to do that Quinn,” you apologised as your lips formed a pout.
He couldn’t stay mad at you for long when your hand trailed up his shorts “‘m sorry,” you mumbled palming his cock as the boy stayed silent.
The Canucks player almost drifted off into this state of peace as his eyes went hooded “should show me just how sorry you are princess.” Quinn gasped forcing the words out of his mouth.
A smile formed on your face “wanna make you feel so good cap,” you cooed bringing your lips to his. The kiss was soft as his hand locked in the back of your hair “stop teasing me then baby, fuck!” Quinn groaned feeling your hand just cup his balls.
You giggled as you dropped to your knees “do I make you horny Quinn?” You asked hooking your fingers in the waist band of his shorts pulling them down with his pants as you smiled.
His head fell back as your cold fingers wrapped around his cock “so much baby” he groaned feeling you kitten lick his tip “don’t deserve to be teased like this.” Quinn added as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.
It felt like pure torture as you drunkenly giggled before you wrapped your lips around his cock “fuck me,” he gasped hearing the sounds of your gags along with your own moans that sent vibrations through his body.
Quinn wrapped his hand around your hair as he forced your throat to take his cock deeper “so good baby.” His praise made you clench your pussy around nothing.
Your hot mouth felt like heaven around his cock “ugh Quinn,” your words came out muffled as his cock seemed to swallow them hitting the back of your throat.
All of the tension that had built up in his pants over night were now falling apart as your tongue swirled around him trying to get Quinn to that high as quickly as his whole body tensed “keep doing so good baby.” The hockey player encouraged you as you continued to gurgle around his cock.
His orgasm hit him like a truck as he almost fell over “so fucking good princess.” It seemed like the boy couldn’t settle on a nickname for you as he pulled his cock out from your mouth.
You titled your head up letting your mouth hang open before you swallow his release “god y/n,” Quinn swore he was on cloud nine as he watched you stick your tongue out now empty.
He held his hand out to help you back up “you gonna fuck me like a real captain?” You asked grinning from ear to ear.
If Quinn knew that that you were going to be such a brat in the sheets he would have fucked you weeks if not months ago “I gotta taste you first.” Quinn blurted out cupping your cheeks again as he kissed you.
His tongue slid into your mouth letting him taste his release on your tongue as he pushed you all the way back until your knees hit the pillow of the couch sending you both back onto it “you knew you were gonna get fucked didn’t you?” The hockey player asked seeing your blue thong as your dress pushed up around your waist.
Quinn let his fingers run down your stomach stopping at the fabric of your panties picking a side up so it could snap back against your skin “asked you a question princess.” He muttered pulling the underwear down your legs painfully slowly “hoped you would fuck me Quinn,” you confessed arching your back into the couch.
You should have been embarrassed with how wet you were as Quinn stared down down at your soaked pussy “you know that’s not my name tonight baby.” Quinn mumbled laying his tongue down flat as he lick a stripe up your folds.
Your hands went to his hair “sorry cap,” you were quick to apologise as he smirked to himself “won’t make that mistake again,” you added puffing your cheeks out as Quinn took his two fingers and ran them over your clit a few times before he thrusted them inside of you.
The hockey player locked his eyes with yours “know you won’t because you’re my good girl right?” Quinn asked before he latched his lips around your clit.
It was quick to make you jump forward with pleasure as you gasped “fucking hell cap,” you groaned running your fingers over your chest.
The matching blue bra was seen thrown across the room as you let your fingers trace over the stiff peaks that your nipples had formed “please let me come,” you begged knowing that you weren’t going to last long with how turned on you were when you sucked Quinn off.
He groaned sending shivers up your spine “I promise I’ll be your good girl.” You nodded to yourself as you pulled at his hair trying to get him closer to your core than he already was.
It seemed that Quinn’s brain was telling his tongue to treat you like you were meant to be his last meal “don’t stop,” you groaned grinding your hips against his face as your thighs began to grow shaky.
Knowing that he was the one causing you to let out those moans and it wasn’t that little black vibrator that you hide in your makeup drawer was a total boost to Quinn’s ego “gotta ask for it like a good girl.” He mumbled somehow having you hear his words perfectly as he went back to sucking your clit whilst his fingers get your pussy occupied.
You were surprised you could even get the words out “please let me come captain.” You begged digging your hips into the couch “I promise I’ll be your good girl as you fuck me.” Those words caused him to grunt and that set off your orgasm.
Now Quinn wasn’t a cruel man, he wasn’t going to stop you because he said no. Instead he was going to fuck you through it and make you pay afterwards “shit Quinn!” You cried leaving that as the real cherry on top of the cake as he retracted his fingers from your pussy.
You were in trouble now “get up,” Quinn’s tone was serious making you listen to him quickly “why?” You asked following his request.
Quinn glared as he reached behind you to grab a handful of your ass “you didn’t listen to me baby so now I have to punish you,” he sighed softly slapping the your skin.
It was hard to concentrate as you rubbed your thighs together trying to alleviate some of the pleasure you felt “so go get naked and wait for me on the bed.” With that Quinn sent you off to his bed room leaving you oozing with anticipation as you got rid of your your dress laying down on his bed just like he wanted you.
But of course the moment Quinn saw you he had other ideas “face down baby, ass up.” He barked causing you to roll over onto your stomach as you heard him get rid of his T-shirt as it fell to the ground.
Quinn had to admit that you being so responsive to him was earning you some brownie points “now you know how to be a good girl for me huh?” He asked cocking his head as he joined you on his bed quickly reaching into the drawer for a condom.
All you could do was nod as you tried to hold back a squeal of excitement “please fuck me captain.” You begged feeling his hands wrap around your hips as his fingers dug into your sides.
There was no doubt about it that your were ready and Quinn was done waiting. So he took his covered cock as he ran it over your clit a few times before he thrusted inside of your pussy. The angle was perfect for him as it like his cock get wrapped up by your tight little cunt “baby ready to by my dumb little cock slut?” He asked thrusting his cock at a painfully slow pace as the hockey player continued to bottom you out.
Your whimpers practically lit Quinn’s skin of fire “yes cap, I’ll whatever you want.” You pleaded just wanting him to move faster.
Thankfully for you it didn’t take him long as those words seemed to trigger a switch in his head causing him to listen to you “so fucking good.” Quinn groaned letting his lower half do most of the work as he let his one hand reach down to rub your clit “if you behave for now on you might even be allowed to come without permission.” The hockey player proposed enjoying how your ass looked bouncing against his lower torso as your pussy swallowed his cock.
It felt like he was on cloud nine “wanna be your best girl,” you cried out feeling your eyes flutter as the boy continued to bottom you out.
He managed to hit spots that no dildo could dream of “you are my only girl baby,” Quinn cooed squeezing his face like he had eaten something sour as your pussy hadn’t stopped clenching around his cock.
The sound of skin slapping only added another layer of pleasure for both of you as the room went silent with you both trying to focus on only one thing “c’mon cap please,” you begged feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.
Quinn smiled as he used his other hand to reach down and tease your breast as he remembered you doing it early “oh shit,” you swore feeling it.
The hockey player pressed warm kisses up your neck stopping by your ear “be my good girl and come for me.” Quinn mumbled letting his hot breath fan against your ear.
That was all it took for you to come as your body dropped to the mattress as you shuddered letting your hands grab at the comforter beneath you “so fucking good baby,” he cooed helping you through your orgasm as his own was caused by that.
Quinn pulled out of you with heavy breathing as he lay down next to you, with the little energy you had left you turned to look up at him “you okay?” The hockey player asked brushing your hair out of your face.
You nodded as you let out a yawn “let’s run you a bath,” he mumbled scooping up your body like you were a child.
Your hand went to his jaw as you squeezed it forcing him to look at you “for us,” you corrected Quinn as you smiled watching him shut the bathroom door behind you two.
Now this is how you spend your first official day as captain of an NHL team.
#quinn hughes smut#Quinn Hughes imagines#quinn hughes oneshot#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#oneshots#imagines#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#nhl imagine#nhl oneshot#hockey smut#nhl smut#amber writes fics
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