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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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The Vessel [Pt. 5]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Geralt is beginning to warm up to you, however, in his own annoying way.

Warnings: Minor SMUT

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

You kept your gaze fixed to the front, your eyes lined to the back of the Witcher's head, his messy hair falling loosely all over his shoulder, covering the back of his neck. The forest was quiet, apart from the occasional croaking of the crickets, or a bird flying by, flapping it's wings.

Your feet hurt, as you had walked all the way from your home, and then had taken a detour through the forest, even though Geralt had said not to. This was all the more reason you took a deep breath, swallowing away the soreness for you couldn't let the man know. No— your ego won't permit that.

Another thing that bothered you was the Witcher's silence, which made you feel that probably it was better to have no company at all, rather than this.

Finally, you gave up— a mixture of both, your exhaustion as well as boredom which made you stop walking, and move to the side where sat a large rock. You lowered yourself upon it, your hand instinctively flying to your boot as you pried it off and began rubbing your ankles to relieve some pressure off them. It was only then that Geralt abruptly halted, when he didn't catch the sound of you behind him.

He twirled around, his hand almost flying to the hilt of his sword out of instinct, the first thought that passed through his mind was that you were taken. It was only after a split second or so did he see you, huddled against that rock, rubbing your feet. His nose twitched, his lips pressing into a firm line as he strode towards you, the sound of his feet against the hard ground causing your head to jerk in his direction.

The next second, you were protesting— angrily lashing out at him, trying to claw your nails into his arms as he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you off that rock, without even uttering a word.

"What the fuck, Geralt? What —"

"I thought you wanted to go to the village. Now, we are going to the village which means that there isn't going to be a stop. I want us to come back before sunset."

These words were the longest words that he had formed towards you all day but his choice of words made you hiss angrily at him, regretting how you didn't enjoy the silence earlier, which was far better than this. You tried prying the hand off your arm to free yourself but the grip instead tightened, pulling you towards Roach.

"Fuck, what the hell is the matter with you? I'm exhausted and just need a minute—"

Before you realized what was happening, you felt him place his hands on either side of your waist, almost like you do to a child when trying to make them climb onto a higher ground. That's when you realized what he was doing— he was trying to get you to climb onto Roach.

"Get on her, [Y/N]. We aren't stopping. The forest can be dangerous."

The blow of the moment hit you right in the gut. You skewered your head to one side, intentionally biting down on your lower lip as you watched Geralt walk up to the rock where you were sitting at. He bent, grabbed your boots, and walked back up to where you were perched on his mare, both your legs on either side of it. Without taking permission, he grabbed your foot, illiciting a gasp from your end but didn't stop, as you squirmed a little, just by the surprise of the act. He easily slid your boot on your left foot before making his way to your right one and you, unknowingly, lifted your foot, without even him having to grab it.

His eyes flew to yours, and you noted the faintest of the smirks that crossed his lips, before he removed the gaze and began working on your right foot to get your boot on, and you smiled, now that he wasn't looking at you.

He then moved away, back into the position he was earlier in— the only difference being that you weren't walking next to him any longer. He took hold of the reins again, as he began walking, as you held on tightly, even though the horse was only galloping in a slow pace.

After about five minutes of silence, the Witcher finally spoke.

"You could have said thank you."

He was facing the front so you couldn't clearly see, but you were sure he was smirking internally. You rolled your eyes, your hand mindlessly flying to your belly and grumbled under your breath.

"Nope. I'm carrying your baby, which makes it your duty to take care of me."

He turned his head towards you, his amber orbs meeting yours halfway, and the look he gave you— his lips curved into the tiniest of smiles over his otherwise serious, brooding face; made blood pump into your body faster and cheeks flush. If it wasn't enough, your mind couldn't stop the thoughts to slither back into it like a snake, the image of the Witcher on top of you, his thick arms pressed to the either of your sides, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding in and out, in and out, in a rhythm, his balls slapping against your skin.

Suddenly, a loud screech rang through the air startling you, and Roach at the same time, making her stand up on her hind legs, panic stricken. A bloodcurdling scream broke out from your lips as you lost your balance the moment the mare got out of control, your body falling backwards towards gravity as your eyes reflexively closed, your body waiting for a sickening crash.

But the hit never came—

When you opened your eyes, you were in Geralt's arms, his thick arms holding you like a bride, but his eyes were trained to his galloping mare, who was galloping away.

"Roach, she's ..she's running away, oh my god," you cried, just when Geralt placed you back on the ground and drew out his sword.

"She'll come back, you get behind that rock—"

"Geralt, what the fuck was that noise?" You blinked, your eyes concentrated on the side of his face, though he was looking around, his sword ready, and his posture tense. Your words made him grunt under his breath and turn towards you, just for a split second, but he was looking at you with frustration, before you felt him grab your wrist and start walking towards the rock. He jerked you slightly, but not harsh enough to make you fall, until you were crouching behind the rock and he was towering over you.

"Ever heard of a wyvern? You'll finally get to see one yourself."

You gave him a look of pure horror, as you slid down against the ground, keeping sure to stay hidden behind the boulder, your arms locking around your knees, when the screech came again, but this time, it didn't sound distant at all. His hand held a tiny vial of what looked like a coloured liquid, and he quickly downed the contents of it. After that, it took mere seconds for Geralt's eyes to turn into a monstrous black, causing you to shudder.

A loud, bellowing screech filled the air once again, and that's when you looked up to see the wyvern circling above in the sky. Your breathing hitched and for a minute you forgot why you were crouching, you were just so awestruck at the sight of it. Without knowledge, you stood up, staring at the sky when you heard Geralt scream.

"I asked you to stay down!" His voice was sharp and angry, instantly pulling you back to reality as the wyvern finally came swooping from the sky, descending straight towards Geralt, who was distracted, his eyes on you.

"Geralt, watch out!" You screamed out, your eyes thrown wide as Geralt, upon your warning, jumped back around, but a second too late. The Wyvern slammed into the Witcher, sending him flying through the air, his back cracking against a tree bark as he crashed and slumped against the ground, groaning. The blow was enough for his sword to drop from his hand, the impact having caused him to be thrown away from it.

"GERALT!" You cried out, a little too loudly, crouching out a bit so you could see him, which turned out to be a rookie mistake.Your eyes threw themselves open, your lips almost trembling when you saw the wyvern turn slightly, so its monstrous yellow orbs were fixated on you.

"Uh, Geralt? That thing is staring at me? What the fuck do I do?" You croaked, a lump forming in your throat when the creature screeched, the jabbing screech directed at you. You quickly stood up, pressing yourself to the tree, your eyes helplessly looking at Geralt who coughed a little and groaned, struggling to pull himself up. You bit your lip hard, so hard that your teeth almost nipped into your lower lip, the taste of metal flavouring your taste buds.

You had a few seconds to act now— for the Wyvern was already charging in your direction.

"[Y/N], RUN! THROUGH THE FUCKING TREES, RUN THROUGH THE TREES!" Geralt's yelling pounded through your ears, and he was asking you to run, but the sword— the sword was too far away from Geralt, and it was much closer to you. If only you could grab the sword, toss it to Geralt and then run towards the trees, Geralt will be able to strike this creature from behind, you thought to yourself, in that split second between life and death.

Geralt pushed himself up on his elbows, growling from the pit of his stomach like a wolf, his eyes ablaze. The wyvern, however, had gotten bored toying with the Witcher it seemed. He kept racing towards you, momentarily flapping it's wings as he lifted in the air and circled around for a bit before darting straight in your direction.

You screamed, knowing that what you were going to do was sheer madness, but yet, something inside of you prompted you to run towards the wyvern, towards the sword, and not away from its into the trees, like Geralt had asked you to. Your calculation wouldn't fail.

Ignoring Geralt's thunderous scream, you grabbed the sword, sweeping it in your palm, your fingers clasping against it at the right time as you threw it out in the air, towards Geralt, screaming, "Geralt! The sword!"

He caught the sword at the exact same time as you turned away, missing the wyvern's claw by a mere second as you began darting at full pace your legs could carry you, towards the trees.

Geralt growled once again, as he stood up, raising the sword as he began charging at the wyvern, who swivelled back to face him, when he jumped in the air, the blade of his sword slashing into the wyvern's wing first which disoriented the creature, who retreated to the ground, howling in pain.

You knew you were supposed to stop— but you couldn't bring yourself to. Maybe it was the adrenaline, that was making you keep running, deeper and deeper into the forest, using the canopy of the trees to cower over you. Behind you, you could hear the creature screeching, until the noises finally came to an end.

You finally stopped running, looking up to realize that you were by a glistening stream. Falling to your knees, you placed both your hands into the icy cold water, splashing some to your face, instantly feeling the cool wash over you and provide you with some temporary relief. Instinctively, your palm flew down to your belly as you stroked it twice over the fabric of your dress.

You waited for a few minutes, knowing that Geralt would find you.

He did find you.

About fifteen minutes later, you heard slight rustling from behind a thick shrubbery. You squinted your eyes, glaring at it, when suddenly a mass of familiar white hair flashed at you, the eyes now gone back to his normal goldens. He was limping, a deep gash having formed on his right thigh, that you could see.

His lips were pressed into a firm line, his eyes lined on you, a look of rage plastered all over his face.

By one look at his face, the first thought that propped into your mind was, you were so fucked.

"Geralt, I—"

He charged at you, his hands coming to rest on either of your arms, his hold not gentle in any way as he pulled you into him, looking down at you, while you looked up at him.

"I told you," He hissed.

"That sword was right there, I had to go for it—"

"NO, YOU DIDNT. I ASKED YOU TO RUN FOR THE TREES, [Y/N]," his grip on you was hard and unwavering, his fingers digging into your flesh as you tried to wriggle free but were obviously, unsuccessful in that attempt.

"STOP, GERALT!" finally, you screamed with a finality in your voice, one which forced the Witcher to let go off you, but you didn't step away. In fact, you placed your palms on his chest, and pushed him hard with all your might. He did not even move an inch. When you looked up at him, your tears had finally betrayed you. You couldn't control yourself from letting out a weak sounding sob, straight from the pit of your stomach as you moved away from him, and began wiping the dirt off your knees with the river water, whispering, "let it go please. It's over. I'm safe now."

Geralt waited for a few seconds, unsure— a thousand thoughts running through his mind looking down at you, but he couldn't find the right words.

So, he cleared his throat, and in a low voice, walked up to where you were kneeling down, and knelt down next to you, not looking at you, but rather into the air around him, as he mumbled, "You're hurt?"

You snorted, more in annoyance and frustration, and disbelief at how easy it was for him to go from cold to warm. You glared at him, throwing him daggers from your eyes, not wanting to give him the answer he wanted, but that's when your gaze fell on the gash on his thigh.

"No, YOU ARE, Witcher," you whispered in a low voice, and he looked down at his thigh, then back up at you, giving you a grunt before he stood up, throwing out his hand towards you, "I'm fine, now come on. We keep moving."

You took his hand, and he pulled you up, but you grabbed his wrist tight when he let go off your hand, pulling him back, into your face, so it was inches away from yours.

"You're hurt, Geralt. We aren't going anywhere until I've made sure you'll live."

A ghost of a smirk crept over his lips for just a split second, and had you blinked, you were sure you would have missed it.

"I'll live. It will take more than that to kill me."

You were about to reply, come up with a good come back, when you heard the familiar sound of the mare's whinnying, causing both you and Geralt to turn towards one of the thickets, from where Roach trotted out, and Geralt smiled, when he took in the sight of his favourite four-legged companion.

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse

Want to be added to the list? Plz let me know via my ask box, inbox and comments. ✨

#geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia x y/n #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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little-nightmare-gt · 3 years

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Mending Broken Promises

In which Technoblade finally apologize in a very Technoblade way. Warning: Vore, blood,

========

Technoblade was being guided by his chat again, feeling rather pleased by what he did to L'Manberg.

Heavily ignoring the guilt he felt when Tubbo entered his thoughts, he tried to kill him!

But you took his second life successfully

He was under a lot of pressure! Nobody was helping!

Oh like anyone was helping him with presidency.

He had Quackity and Fundy and that Ranboo kid-

Two of which are adults, Ranboo has memory problems and Tubbo is the size of a human finger.

This time Technoblade had no words, Phil had assured him he was right and even less than half the voices agreed...but the majority made him think.

Wilbur always said he was the favored child, and explained multiple times how...

Did. Did he even apologize to Tubbo? To Tommy for the pit? Was...he wrong?

We're here!

Frozen Tubbo not pog!

Kill the baby zombie!

Technoprotect!

Technoblade looked around and immediately jumped into action, killing the mobs nearby and focusing on the pale figure near the tree root.

Tubbo's clothes were singed, looked as though they'll crack if he's moved.

More of his skin welped and burned upon already existing scars, nearly all of them came from Technoblade himself.

"Techie! M'scared!" The Piglin hybrid looked around him as he heard a younger Tubbo cry.

"It's okay Tubs, I'll always protect you. You, Wil, Tommy will always be safe with me." Technoblade watched his shadow as he knelt down to scoop up his tiny brother.

He was still alive... barely, his bodyheat nearly non-existent. He had been here a while.

Wow, I forgot about that promise...

We broke everyone of them didn't we?

I mean, if he actually killed Technoblade, they would be even...

Did...did we hit Tubbo with more fireworks?

Did we ever look at his wounds after we blew him to bits?

Why didn't Technoblade just swallow him? Nobody knows about that trick, not even Phil!

It was how we protect Tubbo...

Wait swallow him! We can fix him up at the cabin!

Technoblade wasted no time bringing the little sheep hybrid to his mouth and gently placed him on his tongue.

Flinching at the burnt flesh taste, the Piglin hybrid lapped his baby brother into his mouth.

Hints of honey and lemons still noticable despite... everything, the giant finally swallow him down.

A trail of blood following a fragile body.

Grimacing, Technoblade stood up and took a running start towards L'Manhole.

He was a bit relieved to feel Tubbo move around, snuggling in his stomach.

He felt his heart sink at the frightened whimper.

He entered the cabin, grabbed his medical bag and pulled out everything he needed.

Just to prolong everything, he even heated the kettle. Wanting to avoid the shaking figure in his pouch, and started making tea as well.

====Tubbo's POV====

He wanted to get as far from everyone as possible, the moment Doomsday ended everything got worse.

Tommy avoided him, Ranboo left him, the adults blamed him. He didn't even want to be President, he just wanted someone proud of him. To listen to him. He was a child...or used to be.

Tubbo wanted to go home...but he doesn't have that anymore! L'Manberg is gone, Wilbur is gone, Tommy is gone, Phil basically disowned him and Fundy and Fundy is with Eret now!

He didn't have anyone to look over his wounds, but he left. He didn't want to be the twice president of a crater.

So he walked, each step more painful than the last, stinging as untreated burns from stray fireworks became infected.

He didn't have the energy to care.

Tubbo came to a snowy area, no danger in the air (Techno) as he came upon a tree root.

Cold settling in as he eyes began to droop, a zombies groan was the last thing he heard as everything went black.

The Ex-president felt surprised when he awoke warm, snuggling deeper into the squishy surrounding. A familiar and comforting rhythmic beat near-

Tubbo shot up and and cried realizing where he was and what was going on, there was only one person who would eat Tubbo and keep him in The Pouch™.

Silent tears ran down his face as shivers wracked his broken body, praying that whatever his bro-... whatever Technoblade planned would be more painless than being ripped apart with fireworks.

A familiar monotone echoing voice broke the worried musings, "Tubbo? I'm going to bring you up now."

If Tubbo's heart wasn't the only thing he could hear at the moment, he would have heard the guilt and concern in the normally emotionless giant.

Tubbo felt the tell of being heaved back up, despite his scared mind working overtime, he could tell Technoblade was trying to be gentle.

Soon, he was in the giant's mouth, cool air hitting the heated skin.

Tubbo looked up at his captor with resignation, waiting.

========

Technoblade was not pleased at the state Tubbo was in, shouldn't someone had helped him? Hell, Tommy abandoned him for the younger boy.

Upon looking closer, Techno could tell that he hadn't had sleep in a while or a full meal in months...and that's saying something.

Techno began to use a rag to dip in soapy water and began to clean the smaller (weaker, fragile, child) hybrid.

He hated the dead look in his eyes, the soldier's gaze.

Technoblade couldn't apologize in his normal way, he'd probably kill him accidentally. How, how can he show that he was sorry?

Wait-

====Flashback====

It was almost ten years ago, a six years old had lost his favorite bee plush. The last thing of his real family who Phil had called the exterminator on, thus leaving the child alone.

Nobody could stop his crying, not even Tommy.

Technoblade rushed to try and fix it but, the damages were done. He had taken Tubbo's plush as a dare by Dream, who actually tore it apart.

Needless to say, the Piglin Hybrid was no longer friends with the Dreamon hybrid. Also that's the reason Dream wears a mask.

The Piglin hybrid came clean to Philza, who at the time paid more attention to his siblings, and was told to fix it.

Normal Piglin apologies involved blood or slapping wrists, giving gold or public apologies...but Tubbo was a sheep.

Sheep Hybrids believe in getting even, but overall peaceful.

So Technoblade loomed over the crying child and came clean in front of everyone, before Tubbo could continue his screaming, Technoblade had given him his favorite pillow.

It was strawberry shaped, dark pink and still smelled of strawberry jam.

Nobody in the house touched the pillow without permission, Technoblade had given the child his pillow. Something equally important to him as the bee was to Tubbo.

They were even...

====End Flashback====

Technoblade didn't have many material items he could give the younger boy that equals to a life or a nation.

Though looking at him now...

It seemed that he had nothing left to lose, his little body refusing to relax.

Nobody had taken care of him in a while, it's not getting even...but it's a start.

"Tubbo, you're going to be fine. I'm going to swallow you down again after I get the burn salve on you...and I'm going to do right by you."

"Why?" That broken tone made the giant pause in wrapping him up.

"Because I was in the wrong."

That was all that was said before he finished, taking it slow as he swallowed the younger sibling, who hesitantly patted his Pouch™.

Now...Phil.

#g/t #g/t writing #owl writes #g/t community #owl imagines #giant Technoblade #tiny Tubbo #tw vore #after doomsday #long overdue apology #tw wounds #tw burns #tw near death #tw negative thoughts #tw implied suicidal #Mending AU

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sometimes-iwritestuff · 3 years

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Splash!

Kara was in the zone before she even stepped onto the poolside. It was the National Diving Championships and Kara had been training upwards of 30 hours a week, her season had been great.

She was one of the best 10m platform divers in the country, a shoe in for a spot on the National Team, heading to the World Championships in a few weeks. All she had to do was secure a spot on the podium in this competition, not that she’d be happy with anything else than gold.

The only competitor she really had to worry about was Lena fucking Luthor: she was a member of Metropolis Diving Club and had been Kara’s arch rival since they began

competing more than 10 years ago. Of course National City Diving Club was the best club in the country, no competition, in Kara’s eyes but MDC were up there among the best, majority of the National Team trained in Metropolis.

“Hey, Danvers.” Kara rolled her eyes, she could already hear the smirk in Lena’s voice. She stopped riffling through her bag and turned, scowl permanently fixed on her face. “Aww, don’t do that, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.” Lena pouted.

“What do you want, Luthor?” Kara sighed.

“I just came to wish you good luck. You’re going to need it.” She paired the condescending statement with a sweet smile.

“Shouldn’t you be over there with your team, Luthor?” Alex said, coming to her sisters aid.

“Do you always let your sister fight your battles for you?” Lena pouted, Kara growled and took a step towards her. Lena just laughed, not intimidated at all by Kara “The Human Puppy” Danvers. She tapped her on the nose and sauntered away, swinging her hips.

“You always let her rile you up,” Alex groaned.

“Yes, Alex! I’m very aware of that fact, but she is incredibly fucking irritating!”

“Kara!” J’onn chided, he looked at the floor. Kara growled through her gritted teeth and dropped onto the floor to do her set of push-ups, she kept her eyes on Lena who was stretching across the poolside.

She was shorter than Kara, her body the perfect mixture of hard muscle and soft curves, not the traditional body type for a diver which meant she had to work extra hard to make sure she was perfect.

Kara was tall and muscular with long, lean legs and a natural talent for the sport. That didn’t mean she didn’t work as hard, Kara was the most dedicated athlete on the team, she adored the sport and would put in the same amount of effort in the dryland as she did in the pool.

“Maybe, don’t stare at her the entire time. You’re giving her the wrong impression,” Alex smirked.

“I’m not staring, I’m channelling all my disdain towards her.” Kara muttered, shooting dangers towards Lena who was stripping her team tracksuit off.

“Just don’t let her get to you. This is your last chance to show everyone how talented you are, just compete a solid list and you’ll earn your spot on the National Team.” Alex squeezed her shoulders and Kara nodded.

They warmed up and Kara grabbed her shammy from her bag, heading up to the highest board, ready to start her final training session. Lena was already up there, pressing up into a perfect back armstand and Kara definitely did not stare at her ass while she was doing it.

Kara ran through her dive list twice before getting out of the pool and finishing her session, heading to the showers so she had plenty of time to get changed. She let the warm water run over her muscles, relaxing them, she rolled her neck and shook out each of her limbs. She was feeling loose and limber, fully prepared for the competition.

She heard that distinct giggle and every muscle in her body tensed up again, Lena and her best friend/synchro partner Sam Arias rounded the corner. Kara immediately grabbed her stuff and went to leave before Lena wound her up again.

“Going so soon, Danvers?” Lena teased, Kara didn’t say anything she just scowled at the pair. “You know, your list is really shaping up this season, now you might be able to keep up for once.” Lena ducked under the spray and ran her hands over her hair.

“What are you talking about? I’m the defending champion and my list has been higher in difficulty than yours for the past three years.” Kara spat, Lena may be her toughest competitor but she wasn’t unbeatable.

“Yeah, but your season hasn’t been the best,” Lena snickered. “You’re inward 3-1/2 has been... below par. We both know the only reason you choose that dive is because you need the extra DD.” Sam giggled at the remark.

“Whatever, Luthor, we’ll see who’s on top at the end of the day,” Kara stormed out of the showers before they could see the blush coating her cheeks and went to get changed.

She put her headphones on and laid on the poolside, there were three more competitions before hers, she put a podcast on and relaxed. Alex woke her up just as the third competition started, it was a small one so she made her way to the dryland to begin her warm up.

In a short amount of time it was time for the parade, Lena was too occupied with her own preparations that she didn’t have time to irritate Kara. They both had their own competition routines which meant they didn’t have any interaction during the event.

They’re lists were both relatively the same with only one difference: Lena competed inward 2-1/2 somersaults pike and Kara chose the slightly harder dive: inward 3-1/2 somersaults tuck. It was more of a risk but Kara knew she could score 9’s most of the time.

They were pretty much neck at neck up until the last two rounds of dives, five points separated the top two spots. Kara managed to score 9’s on her dive, Lena on the other hand, scored perfect 10’s, grinning as she climbed out of the pool, knowing she had nailed it.

It all came down to the last dive: front 3-1/2 somersaults pike. They were neck and neck, Kara was ahead by just 3 points due to her higher dive difficulty. Kara took a deep breath and set off on her run up, she knew as soon as she hit the water that she’d over rotated slightly, she could feel it on the back of her calves. Kara scored 8’s, it was a solid score but she knew it would be close.

She watched with bated breath as Lena measured her run up, she ran her shammy over her face once more before throwing it down to the pool side. Lena closed her eyes and visualised the dive going perfectly, she set off and Kara felt her stomach drop and Lena entered the water with a perfect rip entry.

Lena Luthor was the new Women’s Platform National Champion.

“Well done, Kara.” Alex gave her a hug, Kara could help but feel disappointed, silver was still an incredible accomplishment but it wasn’t the spot she wanted. “2nd is still something to be incredibly proud of and the National Team would be stupid not to take you.” Kara nodded, “now, go get your jacket on. They’re presenting the medals in a moment.”

Lena was elated, Sam swept her up in a tight hug, congratulating her over and over again. Lena couldn’t keep the wide grin off her face, smiling from the moment they announced that she’d won the title, all the way to the moment she locked the door of her private shower cubicle. Her team mates knew that she needed time alone after a competition to decompress and reflect on her performance, no matter where she placed.

She heard a soft knock on the door and she opened it to tell Sam she would be out soon.

Instead she was met with bright, blue eyes. She allowed Kara to slip inside the cubicle and pull her into a tight hug, “congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you,” Kara mumbled into her ear.

“Thank you,” she sighed, it had been a gruelling year for Lena, she was at the pool every single day working as hard as she could and it had finally paid off. It was just a shame that for Lena to win, her favourite person had to lose. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to retain your title.”

“Hey, no, we agreed to leave it in the pool, remember? Besides, you’ve worked your perfect ass off for this title, you deserve it.” Lena chuckled and captured her lips in an earth-shattering kiss, it had been months since they’d last seen each other.

They broke away to catch their breath and Lena looped her arms around Kara’s neck. “Just three more months.” Kara hummed, holding her close.

In three months, Lena would be moving to National City for college and they could finally be together. Lena’s family were incredibly strict, they were hell-bent on their daughter being the Olympic Champion one day. That meant no distractions and no dating, oh and they were also incredibly homophobic so Kara wouldn’t be invited to Thanksgiving any time soon.

The young couple had to pretend to hate each other until Lena could move away for college. They had an agreement that any mean comment they said to each other, they really meant the exact opposite. Kara got so wound up because she couldn’t go up to her girlfriend and wish her good luck or give her reassurance without saying something horrible to her.

“You dived so well today, you don’t have to worry about getting picked.” Lena kissed up to her ear. Lena had already been chosen for the team and they were both still nervously waiting to hear if Kara had a spot.

“What if I don’t?” Kara mumbled.

“Then I’ll sneak you into my suitcase and they’ll have to pick you,” she heard Kara’s small chuckle. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too.” Kara whispered back.

They had started off hating each other, their clubs had the worst rivalry in the country and the pair were always pitted against one another. Up until two years ago when Lena had placed third at a local competition and Kara had found her crying in the stairwell after her mother had yelled at her. Lena had told her to go away but Kara hated seeing her beautiful, green eyes look so sad. She was so used to them being filled with mirth and mischief, instead of leaving she pulled her into a hug and held Lena’s shaking body. From then on they were friendly to each other, they were still competitive but the comments weren’t as harsh. Until one particular meet when Lena cornered her in the showers and accused her of deliberately putting her off during her final dive. They’re heated argument quickly turned into an, equally as heated, make-out session.

***

Kara was stood in the shower, basking in the glory of her third win this season when Lena came storming into the showers, tears in her eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Kara grabbed her elbow, but Lena pushed her away.

“Just get away from me! This is all your fault,” Kara was taken aback.

“Whaa? What do you mean it’s my fault?” Kara accused, she furrowed her brow and stepped closer to Lena.

“You whistled during my last dive, you put me off!” She yelled, pressing a finger against Kara’s chest.

Kara scoffed, “oh my God. I didn’t put you off! You lost! Get over it.” She said through gritted teeth. Lena didn’t just lose, she came fourth, she hadn’t not medalled in years, her parents were going to kill her. In return, she was going to kill Kara.

“You’re such an asshole! I thought we were friends now,” Lena had gone from teary eyed to full blown rage in less than a second.

“Your head is so far up your own ass, you can’t handle the fact that you messed up on you own!” Kara yelled back.

“I hate you!”

“I hate you more!” They were so close that Kara could see one of her green eyes was slightly blue, she surged forward and captured Lena’s lips in a bruising kiss. Lena let out a squeak of surprise before kissing her back feverishly. Kara gripped her hips and pulled her closer, Lena moaned into her mouth, tugging on her hair. Kara spun her around and backed her up against the tiled wall, she cupped Lena’s face and ran her tongue across her bottom lip.

Lena suddenly stopped and pushed at her shoulders, “I can’t, I’m sorry.” Lena said, breathless. She tried to brush past Kara but the blonde stopped her.

“Wait. Don’t go, please. I’m sorry if I went too far, I just-“

“Kara, it’s okay, you didn’t go too far. It’s just my parents don’t approve of... this.” She gestured between the two of them.

“Screw them! Do you want this?” Kara circled her wrists and ducked her head to look into Lena’s eyes. She searched her eyes and dropped her gaze down to her parted lips.

“Yes,” Kara backed away, leading Lena towards the shower cubicle. She locked the door and recaptured her lips.

***

After that day, Kara had asked for Lena’s number and the rest was history.

They still had to keep up the facade until Lena moved, but Kara quite enjoyed the sneaking around, it meant she could have Lena all to herself and with everyone knowing she was off limits already, she didn’t have to worry about anyone else trying to worm their way in. Not that it would worry her anyway, Lena was head over heels for Kara and vice versa.

“You think you can sneak out of your hotel tonight?” Kara asked.

“Mhmm, Sam is usually out like a light after a day of competing,” Kara began swaying slightly, soothing the girl in her arms.

“Meet you in the parking lot at 9?” Kara suggested, Lena nodded. “It’s a date and I can’t wait to spoil the new National Champion!” Kara grinned.

#kara danvers #lena luthor #lena x kara #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fic #supercorp au #diving #diving au #the diving au no one asked for but I wrote anyway #secret relationship #honestly the lack of creativity or effort that went into that name

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xaphrin · 4 years

Text

“You’re not wearing that… are you?”

Raven looked down at herself in confusion. She was wearing what she always did for a Saturday night, leggings and an oversized Gotham University sweatshirt she got at some welcome event freshman year. Her lips twisted in annoyance and she lifted an eyebrow, knowing where Donna was going to take this conversation. “Is there something wrong?”

“You’re going on a date!” Donna slammed the heel of her hand into her forehead and groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “A date. With Damian Wayne, the richest college student in the entire country, and you’re wearing a free sweatshirt, three year-old leggings, and boots you’ve repaired with Gorilla Glue. You cannot be serious.”

Raven rolled her eyes and began hunting through their living room to find her purse. She wasn’t sure why Donna cared so much, it’s not like Damian actually liked Raven. He tolerated her at best, and despised her at worst. “I highly doubt he’s going to give a fuck about what I’m wearing. He doesn’t even like me, remember? The only reason he’s taking me on this stupid date is because of contractual obligation. In fact he’s probably going to stop and get fast food and then kick my ass out two blocks away from our house so he doesn’t have to deal with the shame of being seen with me.”

Outside a car door slammed and Karen offered a low whistle as she stood by the front window. “Uh… Rae?”

Raven picked up her head, feeling a pen slide out of her messy bun and clatter to the floor. “What?”

“You… might want to rethink your clothing choices because… hoo boy.”

Raven walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. Her heart fell into her stomach and she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. Eyes fluttering, she took a long few seconds to admire the man walking up the pathway to their house. Damian Wayne was coming to get her for their date, and he looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine and onto her sidewalk. He was wearing gray trousers and black button-down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles in his forearm bulged as he walked - how was that possible? She knew he was built, but damn… she didn’t realize she could find forearms sexy.

His impossibly verdant eyes flicked up to the window and locked gazes with her, his lips pulling down into a frown. Raven stumbled back from the window, the curtain falling over the glass. Panic flooding her system, she turned to Donna and stumbled through a series of confused noises, before she managed to finally speak.

“Dress. I need a dress.”

“On it.” Donna grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs to her room. “Bee, keep Lover Boy busy while I fix…” She looked Raven up and down for a moment before shaking her head. “... this.”

Karen gave her a salute, a bright grin filling her face. “You got it, chief.”

Raven didn’t even have the energy to be insulted at Donna’s choice of words. All she could think about was how Damian Wayne was standing on her front porch, looking like a fashion model with the full intention of taking her out on a date. She stumbled along the upstairs hallway until Donna pulled her into her room, setting Raven on the bed.

“We’ve got about seven minutes to get you looking like you are going on a real date.”

Downstairs Raven could hear the door open and Karen invited Damian inside. Their voices were muffled, but Karen was obviously talking about the business ethics class they had together. Raven’s heart leapt into her throat and she stared at Donna as she pulled a dress out of the back of her closet, setting it on the bed with a pair of low-heeled shoes.

“Why is he dressed like that? Why?” She pitched forward and buried her head in her hands, groaning. “This was supposed to be a stupid joke. He wasn’t supposed to actually take me out on a date… and dress up for it.”

“Maybe…” Donna said with a sigh as she grabbed her make-up bag from her vanity. “And hear me out on this, Rae. Maybe he likes you.” She patted a little cover up under Raven’s eyes, trying to hide the evidence of her late-night study sessions. “Maybe he’s liked you for years, but you two are so dimwitted and emotionally constipated that you can’t even admit that you like each other, so you’ve got this ridiculous, over-the-top rivalry going on when what you should really be doing is just fucking each other senseless.” Donna swiped mascara on Raven’s eyes, grimacing. “Just maybe.”

“First of all.” Raven glared at her, her lips pulling down in a frown. “He doesn’t like me. He tolerates me, and just barely.” She pulled off her sweatshirt and leggings, reaching for the dress Donna had pulled out. “Secondly, I am not emotionally constipated.”

Donna wrinkled her nose and stared down at her. “Are those the underwear you’re wearing?”

Raven looked down at her plain, faded cotton underwear with a hole near the waistband. She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. They’re my favorite. And if I have to sit through the most uncomfortable dinner of my life, then at least my crotch is going to be comfortable.”

“I can’t believe I have to tell you how wrong it is that you’re wearing that underwear.” Donna’s face fell into her hand and she went to her dresser, handing her something black and lacy. “I have a new pair I just bought. Never been worn.”

“It’s not like he’s going to see my underwear, Donna.” Raven rolled her eyes and pushed the underwear away. “I’m not wearing those.”

“Raven.” Donna pitched her voice dangerously low and bent down to stare into her eyes, a darkness swirling there. “You are going to wear the damn underwear, or so help me god, I will throw you down on this bed and change you like a baby.” She shoved the lacy underwear into Raven’s hands. “Now shut up and wear the fucking panties.”

Raven flushed and quickly changed her underwear before pulling the dress on over her head. She shoved her feet into Donna’s shoes, noting they were a size too big. Oh well. She had no choice to make it work, it wasn’t like Raven had any kind of dress clothing of her own. The last time she wore something even remotely formal was to her induction into the English department’s honor society two years ago.

Donna pinned back her hair into a fancy messy bun, and stepped back to look at her. Her lips twitched and she tugged at the loose fabric around Raven’s breasts. “Mm… I can’t believe you don’t have a push-up bra.”

Raven gave her a flat stare, trying not to be jealous of her best friend’s curves. “Shut up.”

She glanced down at her small cleavage, barely filling out Donna’s dress. Suddenly she felt weird, like she wasn’t quite herself in a borrowed outfit and borrowed make up. Part of her wished she had just stayed in her leggings and sweatshirt, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself either. Damian would never let her live it down if she went out on a date with him looking like she did when she crawled out of bed and went to class on a Monday morning.

With a defeated sigh, she stared at herself in the full-length mirror. “I look… fine. Better than before, so… it’s something.”

“Mm.” Donna eyes her carefully for a moment before going to her vanity and handing Raven a tinted lip balm and a few condoms. “Here. Tuck these in your purse.”

“Donna! I am not sleeping with Damian Wayne.” Raven glared at her, taking the lip balm, but ignoring the condoms. “I would rather choke at dinner.”

“Your wandering eyes at the auction say otherwise. It wasn’t exactly like he was able to hide the massive python between his legs, and I definitely noticed some appreciation there.” Donna shoved the condoms into her hand and walked to the door, motioning Raven out. “But what do I know? I’ve just been your friend for the past four years.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug as Raven walked past, smirking. “And if your date goes horribly awry, then you can use them as water balloons and chuck them at his pristine, foreign car.”

Raven snorted, a small smile pulling at her lips. Whatever tension had been growing between them dissolved and Raven took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. What had she been thinking? Agreeing to a date with Damian Wayne? It would have been easier to sign her own death warrant.

Donna nudged her shoulder and gave her a small, teasing smile. “It’s gonna be fine. If it goes sideways, call me and Karen and I will be there in seconds to pick you up.”

That was comforting. At least she always had her friends to back her up. Raven nodded slowly and walked downstairs. Damian turned and looked at her, and for one brief moment he said nothing. His eyes roamed her face before glancing down the rest of her body. With a low hum, he leaned back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something snide, and Raven was already hunting for a quick comeback. She refused to let him have the upper hand in any of their conversations.

“I have to stop at the animal shelter before they close to drop off the money we raised.” He kept his voice surprisingly even, but there was a tension at the corner of his mouth. He was obviously just as annoyed as she was at having to take her out on a date.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to ignore Donna sneaking behind Damian and stuffing more condoms in her purse. Just how much sex did Donna think Raven was going to have? And none of it was going to be with Damian.

“And then I made reservations for us at that new Italian place by the bay.”

Raven blinked, her eyebrows knitting together. “I thought they were booked up for three months?”

Damian lifted an eyebrow, and suddenly felt very silly. “Ah. Right. Wayne. I’m sure your clout could get you into Fort Knox on a moment’s notice.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her nerves. She felt oddly jittery, like she was about to sizzle under the weight and heat of Damian’s unyielding stare. His lips twitched and his stare darted down her again. Raven pushed her feelings into the pit of her stomach and took a step forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so enthused. You’re the one that paid a thousand dollars for this.”

“I didn’t pay a thousand dollars for you.” Yes she did, she just didn’t want to admit it. “I did it to save the kittens.”

“Of course you did. And I’m sure making my life a living hell for one evening is just a nice, extra bonus.” He grabbed her hand and headed for the door, looking back over his shoulder as he dragged her along. “We’ll be back by eleven.”

“Or until I kill him.” Raven snorted. “Whichever is sooner.”

Donna just crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “Don’t forget your purse.”

Raven glared and snatched it off a nearby chair. Oh she was going to use the condoms tonight, to pelt Damian’s car with water balloons like he deserved.

#damirae #demonbirds #college au #I PROMISE I'm working on requests and other things #I just... gotta get this out of my system first #I GOTTA #I'M SORRY

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jiminx Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 17.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Mentions of Mafia Heists, Cocaine Transport, Jimin Being A Psycho, Idiots Breaking Y/N’s Expensive Things

A/N: Man do I love my power couple. Shout out to my forever squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia.

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world, @jikooksgirl19, @yoong-i, @ruinsofangels, @absolutefantrash, @chiminies-noona, @eclectically-esoteric, @simplybree, @outrofenty, @yxnxxli

“But Mommy I don’t want to go stay at Aunt Hyunah’s house! I want to stay with baby!” Hawon whines as she clutches on to your leg.

Your heart strings tug at her words as you stand in the entryway of the house. The way her small hands clutch onto your dress earns softened eyes from your husband as he stands at your side.

The silver cross is purchased between his teeth as he feels at the back of his waistband for his gun. It’s becoming a habit he can’t seem to break.

With a pout, you crouch down to your daughter’s height as you brush some stray baby hairs off of her forehead.

“I know you do but in a few days it will all be over and you’ll be able to see the baby all the time, okay?” You ask her softly as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Burying her face into the crook of your neck, she nods solemnly as she hugs you.

“That’s a good girl.” You whisper, pulling back and pressing your lips to her forehead.

Jimin checks his Rolex before petting Hawon’s head as she pulls away from you.

Your eyes flicker to Yoongi, who scratches his scar as he watches on at the sight before him.

“When you come over to my house, you’ll be able to eat all the sweets you want.” He suggests to your daughter.

She furrows her small eyebrows as you put her small backpack on her.

“Mommy and Daddy say candy is bad for your teeth, Uncle Yoongi.” She murmurs, earning giggles from both of her parents as she trudged to the doorway.

“Okay big boy! Time to go to Uncle Yoongi’s.” Jimin whispers, kissing his son’s forehead.

Minseok looks up at you with big eyes before smiling widely. You’re so grateful that your children have such innocent souls.

You watch the door close, seeing their small silhouettes slink out of sight before standing up straight and brushing off your dress.

“Okay.” Jimin whispers before pulling his gun out from behind his back.

He whistles loudly throughout the silent house as he wraps his arm around your shoulder before loud noises begin to travel up through the maid’s quarters.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bury your face into his sweet smelling chest.

“Boss.” You hear from the kitchen as his crew enters the sitting room.

“Let’s make this place a fortress.” He says before looking down at you and smiling.

“Watch the fucking vase, Haneul!” You yell.

The priceless vase teeters on the stand before stilling and you breathe out a sigh of relief as your husband picks it up.

“Sorry, Madam!” Haneul calls as he sets up the tripod for the automatic machine gun.

“Fucking idiot. You break it, you buy it.” Jimin seethes as he smacks the back of the younger man’s head.

Your husband’s arms extend as you stand in the entryway watching your house become a gun museum.

“Kitten. Why so serious?” He asks as he sets the vase on the coffee table approaching you slowly.

His hand rubs at your stomach first before engulfing you in a hug. Rubbing soothing circles on your back, you cringe loudly as you hear glass breaking.

“Oh you fucking morons!” Jimin yells as he turns his head to the broken vase on the hardwood floor.

“Sorry Boss! Shit!” One of the boys curses as he begins to pick up the pieces.

“Fucking stupid idiots.” He murmurs as you stomp your foot angrily.

Raising your eyebrows expectantly, he gives you a nervous chuckle before kissing your forehead.

“I’ll buy you a new one?” He asks, giving you a fake smile.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff before shoving people out of your way to enter the kitchen.

“Oh Kitten! I’m sorry, baby!” Jimin calls to you before punching the boy at fault.

“Baby! I’m sorry!” He yells as you step out into the garden.

Stepping along the newly placed pebble walkway, you take in the nice weather as the red and orange leaves fall from the limbs of the trees you’ve become so familiar with.

This is madness, everything around you is chaotic and you’re smack dab in the middle trying to make sense of it all.

As psychotic as Jimin seems to have become, you can understand his heart.

You can understand just how detrimental this all is to him. To have family and loved ones in danger would make anyone go crazy. But, he seems to have a plan, and when your husband has a plan he would stop at nothing to go through with it.

Your hand lands on your stomach as you sit down on the chaise lounge by the fire pit. Your fingers drift over your small bump as you watch the sun nestle into a cluster of clouds sending the skies into various shades of pinks and purples.

“Kitten, I’m sorry my love.” Jimin calls to you as he jogs down the walkway. He sheathed his gun behind his back before frowning as you slowly turned your head to him.

“I want all the priceless things removed before they break everything in my fucking house.” You tell him sternly and he nods as he steps over the stone steps to approach you.

“Anything you want.” He whispers before seeing a feminine body wade through the kitchen.

Both of your heads turn to the woman as she steps out of the kitchen into the backyard.

Rina stands with a manila folder between her two fingers closely followed by Kirsoon as he fixes his suit jacket.

Jimin smiles widely before flagging them over.

“Oh, it’s a party now.” He mumbles before pulling you into his lap as they make their way over.

“Good evening.” Rina says as she sits in the chair opposite you and your husband.

“Hey.” You say as you look her over.

She was so nervous and frail when you first asked her to take over for you at the casino. Now, as you look at her you can’t help the elation you feel watching her confidence grow.

“I have the plans for the party if you’re interested.” She says, holding up the folder.

Jimin smiles widely, his hand opening and closing as he leans forward.

She giggles at his enthusiasm handing him the envelope as he purchases the silver cross between his teeth.

“Oh, Kitten. This is going to be so much fun.” He murmurs as he places the folder on your lap.

Opening it, his chin hooks over your shoulder as you peruse through the documents.

If everything goes to plan it would be a grand welcome. This is one of the only things you can contribute but with so many mafia families being invited, something is bound to go wrong.

The theme of Casino Night is roaring twenties but more importantly it’s a chance to take in information on all of the mafia families in the area.

One of them has to be against you and all you have to do is work it out. Easy, right?

Your husband runs his hand over your stomach as he holds you closer.

“You got all the extra cameras installed? Everything is set up?” He asks Kirsoon who nods in agreement.

“I don’t want someone taking a shit without me knowing about it. I don’t want anything to fall out from underneath us. One of these fucks is putting my family in danger. So help me God, I will find out who it is.” He mumbles through clenched teeth as you look at the documents.

“What about weapons, where will we be storing them?” You ask your husband as he runs his fingers over the silver chain around his neck.

“In baggage claim. No one is coming in with weapons, Kirsoon. If they do, I’ll cut your balls off and put them on a necklace for you to wear.”

The bigger man swallows thickly before nodding wearily at his bosses words.

“Yes Boss.” He whispers before clearing his throat and bowing his head.

“In just a week’s time. We’ll get these fuckers. Until then, I want you both to be careful. Don’t go anywhere without each other.”

“That’s um… something I came over to talk to you about. If you turn to the last page, you can see why we can’t do it in a week's time.” Rina whispers as she points at the manila folder.

Your husband's eyebrows furrow before tossing all the pages onto the grass underfoot.

His eyes scan the paper before scoffing loudly.

“What do you mean it’ll take two whole months to fortify the safe and security features?! I’m asking to install automatic guns, not fucking switch bombs!” Your husband yells as he wiggles the paper back and forth.

You give a loud sigh in disappointment before turning to your husband. You watch as his neck veins protrude and thicken as he goes through his bout of anger.

“Well...two months is worth the wait. I guess.” You say to him as you fix some of his hair behind his ear.

“You’ll be five months pregnant and showing by then.” He mumbles to you.

“That’s alright.” You whisper, earning a loud scoff from him.

“No Kitten. It’s not alright, then if whoever it is sees my baby growing inside of you they’ll work harder to attack us. Goddammit!” He screams, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at Kirsoon.

The paper ball hits the man’s broad chest and he looks at you nervously as Jimin repeatedly taps your thigh to get off of him.

You do as told, sliding down the chaise lounge as he begins to pace back and forth. He pulls his gun out from his waistband and you watch on with bored eyes as he begins to shoot the large trunked tree that has been through quite a bit in this garden of yours.

He empties the whole clip, screaming in anger all the while before men file out of the kitchen with their guns drawn.

His fingers run through his hair before sneering at them.

“Get back to work!” He yells before putting his gun back in his waistband.

With a grunt, he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be back.” He whispers.

“And, where do you think you’re going?” You call to him as he takes off down the pebbled road.

“To have some fucking fun!” He calls back as he enters the kitchen.

“Jimin...I don’t know if we should be doing this.” Taehyung whispers to his best friend as they sit in the back of the van.

"Shut up. If you feel so terribly about it then just stay in the truck." He murmurs before purchasing his silver cross between his teeth.

"I don't feel terrible about it, I just don't want any aftermath." His best friend mumbles beneath his breath, something the keen mafia leader hears anyway.

"There will always be aftermath, Tae. Always. Don't go pussying out on me because you got your wife pregnant." Jimin mumbles as he loads bullets into his gun.

There's silence in the van apart from Jeongguk shuffling around and taking swigs of his whisky.

"You're stinking up the van with that sh-" His voice is cut off to the youngest by the loud ringing of his prepaid phone.

Answering it, he puts the phone on speaker as Taehyung peaks out the driver's side window.

"We got a shipment on our twelve. Looks like a heavy load." He hears Jin call through the phone.

"Clean take, no left overs." Jimin says back as he rolls the silencer onto the mouth of his gun.

The same words are uttered by the men, one the phone and in the van before the call ends.

Jimin tosses the prepaid phone to the youngest who takes off the back and pulls out the battery.

His fingers are sloppy but quick as he pulls out the prepaid SIM card. Jimin makes it a point to watch the youngest put the card in his mouth before taking a swig of whisky to wash it down.

"Open your mouth." Jimin instructs and he nods pleased with Guk before pressing his body against the back doors of the van.

"They stopped." Taehyung whispers as he cock his gun.

Jimin holds his hand up in a fist, before lifting his fingers ever so slowly counting.

"One...Two...Three." He whispers aloud before barreling open the back doors and jumping out onto the dirt road.

With the guys quick on his tail, they slowly sneak around the parked van.

"Junggoo is going to flip when he sees all this coke. This is our biggest delivery yet!" The driver cheers happily.

Jimin stations himself below the driver's door and waits for Taehyung's signal.

What the Im's were doing in the cocaine business was anybody's guess but they're taking money and land away from Hyunah and that would not do.

Taehyung whistles loudly and Jimin stands up.

"What the fuc-" The scream is cut off as Jimin smiles widely, his silver cross purchased between his teeth as he pulls the trigger.

The blood splatter is something out of a modernist painting as it coats the windshield and he can't help the throaty chuckle that leaves his throat. Wipin bgg some blood off of his cheek, he begins to whistle as Guk opens the back doors of the drug trunk.

"We got kilos on kilos, Boss." He slurs and Jimin's smile widens as he slowly makes his way to the back.

Jin's van pulls up in a matter of seconds, dirt flying into the air as he backs the truck up. Taehyung pulls open the doors and the unloading begins.

Hoseok jumps out of the passenger's side, holding up the phone. Pulling off the back and battery, he swallows the SIM card in Jimin's line of sight before going to change the plates of the abandoned van by the side of the dirt road.

"So where are we taking it?" Namjoon asks as he hangs his body out of the window of the van.

"To the Lee's den. Yoongi is waiting there with some men to distribute and cut." He tells him, earning nods.

"We heard about Casino Night, sorry Chim." Jin says as he walks around the van to his boss.

Jimin lights a cigarette before posting up against the side, his foot purchased on the white metal before shrugging.

"Guess I'll just have to raise hell until I can get my revenge." He notices Jeongguk's smirk out of the corner of his eye before smiling widely.

"And raising hell has always been a skill I've been extremely good at."

#the lions den #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #mafia!jimin #bts mafia!au #mafia!jimin x reader #bts story #bts series

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greenflamedwriter · 3 years

Text

Galra Lance

Lance is a galra, and Ex-Mamourian (He was kicked out because he was suicidal and kept getting attention to try to make Zarkon afraid which was the opposite of what mamoura wanted so Lance is a rebel doing his own thing, bounty hunting stealing, raiding and above all about to steal a red Lion on the ship hailed under Sendak and he’s going to get a boatloud of it. Then a cocky kid in a red suit slashes in claiming it’s his lion. Lance wonders if any of this was even worth it?

1 Flash to mind meld plus suspicion lances memories of him in water with mermaids and pre-galran.

2 Flash to “surprise, not a galra.” Lance is exposed and returned and nervous.

3 His father is Blatyz the previous blue Paladin and his other father the Galra whom Blatyz married. (Wait how were you born?) Pidge asked and Lance grinned his tail flickering back like a cats (I was a test tube baby)

4 Keiths initiation Lance returns to the Mamoura.

5 they take down Zarkon then realise his son appears and find out it was hagger when plot twist the whole family were puppets a chaotic energy anti quintescence gains a form and almost possesed the galra but some (Maourans) Resisted and the galra were so soft, so easily corruptable they fight that thing with Fusiontron. They save Honerva and Lotor and they find a planet and make it habitable and release everyone from enslavment but some planets are merged some want the Galra gone and some need their galra to remain so Allura and Lotor try to fix things. Lance goes to his planet which is hidden and Allura gasps to see Alteans, Mermainians and Galra there in hiding in a warped hole.

On a spacecraft floating on the edge of an arus solar system, an abandoned Galra named Lance, was taking a pit stop.

His ship consisted of junk, the pilot hanger cluttered making even hoarders feel disgusted open drinks and snack bars littered here and there and Lance had to squeeze in just to get to the pilots chair, the craft only had one room and a bathroom that stopped working. And his room was the only place that was clean it had an assortment of guns, rifles, snipers, you name it, along with a discarded blade that has seen no use in years with a strange symbol on the hilt.

Lance had music blasting from his speakers some album he bought from an alien shop, the album was called ‘Queen.’ And so far Lance was a fan.

He was flickering through a data pad as many reports scrolled past with anflick of his finger. Galra operations, cargo shipments, military vessels, open channels with radio chatter that Lance ignored. He was looking for something easy.

The life of a thief had its perks, steal medical supplies and weapons and give them to a rebellion and make a profit. Usually he sold to both sides just to live more dangerously. A recommendation opened up and Lance smirked behind his mask with the three circles on the front.

A vessel captioned by Sendek was hovering outside Arus, sliding the panel right and lots of data began to download at lighting speed , appeared and Lance’s smirk grew.

It had some precious cargo on it, a Lion of Voltron to be exact.

Lance was having the time of his life knocking out guards ninja style was just so easy, he had the red lion in his sights.

“Well hello gorgeous, mind dropping down that barrier and getting out of here?”

Suddenly he heard a nose and hid behind a pillar in the shadows, just as more galra guardsran into the hanger.

Lance turned and frowned to see a boy in red and white armour (like thats not inconspicuous) and took them down, Lance grew more suspicious this kid fought like a galra. But he didn’t wear mamorian armour or any rebel armour that he knew. Could be a threat.

Until the kid went to the barrier “Alright open up.”

…it did nothing, the boy growled in frustration “Ugh-we don’t have time for this! It’s me keith! You’re I AM YOUR PALADIN!”

Lance couldn’t help it he laughed, more like busted a gut.

The kid whipped around activating a weapon, a sword.

“Stay back!” Lance shook his head “No, wait,” he was still chuckling holding up his hands “I’m not-”

Suddenly more guards made themselves known and the two found themselves with their hands full.

Lance wasted no time shooting the Galra, even took care of the kids blindspots, this jlb was bigger than he thought maybe if he helped the kid out they can split the money fifty fifty.

That was until.

“You’re not getting this lion!”

Keith slammed his hand against the panel, and opened up the interlock, the vacum

Shot the galra forward and Keith was barely gripping onto the panel.

Lance cursed then used his grappling hooks to latch onto a structure beam.

Suddenly Keith’s slipped and he was pulled into space.

Lance acted on instinct he unlatched grapplings and shot out of space after the teen. He easily grabbed him stopping them both from slinning.

“Let go!”

“Shut up, I’m trying to save your life.” Until the kid screamed Lance turned in time to see big metal jaws clamp shut around them.

Both screamed as they tumbled along the inner corridors, Lance was usually could at improvising- but this was going so far out of left field!

He had no clue what was even going on anymore.

Both were on their hands and knees panting from the sudden death experience, until Lance heard a high pitched sound and turned his head slowly.

Keith held his red sword against his face. Lance could only stare- oh well, stare in his mask and ex-Mamourian armour as much as he could.

“Who are you?” Keith growled. Lance knew he could knock the kid out and take the lion. But he’d have no idea if it’ll even respond to him, and Keith is a fighter and wouldn’t let this thing go, heck heleaped out of an airlock for this thing.

A crash outside saved his interrogation. “A rebel, against the Galra,” he rushed out (which was sorta true)

“Honestly I would tell you more but we don't have time!”

….It turns out Lance got involved in something much bigger than him.

This...this was Voltron.

His childhood stories, the one his dad told him about. The universe’s last hope before Alfor hid them away.

They returned!

Kinda, with one blue lion shot, it just sat there with it’s barrier up. Useless. Not doing a thing….sounded like his type of girl. Chilling alone while the whole universe wasn’t in chaos.

But even with four lions they were able to take down a fighter craft, one with Sendek attached as it crashed onto the planet before him. Colour Lance impressed.

Keith wasn’t too bad either during the battle. He was an excellent pilot and a fighter, but he had a very bad habit.

“Green is wide open,” Lance said with a sigh as he watched how obvious it was that the green Lion had three fighters on their ass.

“Help them out.” Dumbass, he left unsaid.

Keith seemed to hear it.

“I know-” keith instantly covered them and Lance saw fighter ships approach from the main craft. “Your right-” Keith barely managed to dodge.

“Will you quit back seat driving!?”

Lance almost stopped until he saw the black paladin was in distress “The Black lion-”

Keith was moving before he even finished. Keith was good, just had to see the bigger picture.

Once they defended Arus and went planet side, Lance had already made a decision, as he left the red lion trailing behind Keith he saw the others landed beside them.

A woman appeared out of the castle looking relieved, until her eyes clocked his and Lance almost ran back up the mouth of the lion.

“Who is he?”

Allura demanded once all the pilots had landed.

Lance brightened behind his mask, his lilac tail flicking back and forth as he descended the mouth of the lion and held his hand out.

“Oh hello, I’m Lance.” He over exagirated his movements the more big and dumb he looked the more trusting, Allura took his hand tentively.

“You can’t tell with the mask, but I’m winking.”

Allura pulled her hand away still suspicious. “Keith!”

Keith glanced at him curiously. “He was with the red lion,”

With no warning, Lance felt Allura grab his arm and twist him around onto his knees, Lance yelped.

“Ow, ow ow- that hurts lady- ow!” His hand was trembling and clenching as Allura dug her palm into his shoulder.

“What were your intentions with the red lion?”

“I was planning on stealing it,”

Allura looked very alarmed, until Lance gasped on. “But now? wouldn’t dream of it!” Allura growled “Why should we trust you?”

“My dad told me about Voltron,” Lance wheezed god this lady was tough.

Allura let him go surprised and Lance fell over with a yelp just barely catching himself, he turned and pointed at her with a scowl (That she didn’t see)

“Look I know what this looks like but I know that, this,” he gestured at the lions as he stood up ”This isn’t some collectors item, this is VOLTRON! The people’s hope, if anyone found out I-” Here he slapped a hand to his chest “-was responsible for sabotaging Voltron I’ll be doing the Galra a favour, Which is the opposite of what I want to do.”

Allura and the others who looked defensive, straightened once Lance said his piece.

“Is there anyone out there fighting Zarkon?” She asked, Lance placed a hands on his hips “Still? Jeez Lady where have you been? There is no more fighting, Its just surviving at this point.” He flapped his hand lazily “I already gave up on that freedom pipedream long ago, but yes other rebels are trying. Chances are if you make a dent in Zarkons oppressive system the rebels will come flocking.” And if the Mamoura catched wind of Voltron Lance wanted to be out of there ASAP.

He waved at them taking a step back “Good luck to you,” He patted the barrier of the blue lion and continued to walk away, hoping he could get enough of a signal to his ship to get him as far away from this planet.

Until the barrier collapsed with a swish.

He stopped walking as the others gasped. No.

Lance turned to see the others gape at the lion (Now free) then their gazes turned towards him.

Coran came to himself before the others. “It seems we have found our blue paladin.”

Lance looked around then back at them, wait they meant him?

Oh Gaia, no.

#GL #Galra Lance

15 notes · View notes

eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

EVER SINCE NEW YORK V | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 5! Read Part 4 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Falling - Opia.

Her - Majid Jordan.

Daylight - Maroon 5.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Junior Year.

Las Vegas,

Nevada.

“Hey.”

You pulled up the cover, holding it over your body and looking down at Matthew. His head was perched between your legs, and his lips were covered in slickness. “Hey,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, and placed a kiss on your inner thigh. “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Right now?”

He laughed, “Oh, relax, princess. You’ll get your nut. I just wanted to see if...maybe, you might wanna go to Vegas?”

“Vegas?” you mumbled. “Why?”

“A bunch of us are going for spring break. I’m gonna be everyone’s tour guide, my mom is putting us up for the week. You should come.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I should come. I really, really should. So, c’mon, get back to it.” You grabbed onto his hair, twirling it on your fingers.

“Bossy,” he whispered. He leaned down and continued to eat you out. Your head fell back against the pillow, you let out a happy sigh.

“Worst timing ever, Matthew. Ask me in, like, 10 minutes.”

He stopped, gasping, “10 minutes?”

“Fine, 15, 20, I don’t care. Just please—“

It took approximately 16 minutes. Matthew was able to get you off with his mouth in no time, and the two of you tangled together in a sloppy kiss. His cock pushed into you, his hand wrapped around your throat and you went dizzy as he pressed his fingers into your neck. It was three in the morning, soft music was playing through Matthew’s room, the lights were dim. The brief seperation last semester happened, it was over, and you both silently agreed that it shouldn’t happen again.

Since returning from Christmas break last month, you’ve gone back to your late night schedule. Aside from seeing each other in class and parties and hangouts, you spent the hours between midnight and three AM at Matthew’s place. It often left you tired for your 8 o’clock class, but it was worth it. You were getting dicked down — very well, by the way — Matthew and you were getting along, laughing and cracking inside jokes with one another. Things were great. Hence, Matthew’s invitation to Nevada.

“So?” He said, holding you against his chest after the deed was over.

“So? So what?”

“Vegas? Spring break?”

“To meet your mommy?”

“Well—“ he stuttered. “Yeah, it’s her house, so you’ll probably meet her.”

“You gonna bring me home to your mom? And say ‘hey, mom, this is [y/n], my nutty buddy.’?” You laughed.

“If that’s how you’d like to be introduced,” he shrugged. “I was just gonna tell her your name and keep it at that.”

“Wow, I’ve never been so honored!”

You shook his head at you, giggling, “A simple no would suffice.”

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips, “I’ll go.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go,” you repeated. “To Vegas. Count me in.”

“Cool,” he smiled. “Cool.”

“Only if Claire can come, too.”

He sighed, “Claire.”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it, dude.”

He took it.

You got a few hours rest in your own dorm, and woke up promptly to shower and get ready for class. When you got out of the bathroom, Claire was awake, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” you grinned, drying off your hair.

“Morning!” She pipped.

“Hey,” You began to get dressed. “You didn’t have plans for spring break, did you?”

“In what world would I have spring break plans that you don’t know about?” She asked.

“Right,” you nodded. “So, how would you feel about going to Vegas?”

Claire stopped applying her makeup and turned to you, “Vegas?”

“Yeah. We fly out the Sunday before break. What do you think?”

She leaned against the wall, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Sunday...” she whispered. “This wouldn’t be, uh, the trip Matthew’s taking everyone on, would it?”

You took a step back, freezing from buttoning your shirt. “Well...yeah, I guess. I’m not sure, I just got invited by someone else.”

“Who?”

“Huh?”

“Who invited you?”

“Um—“

“Cause I can’t think of anyone in our friend group that would invite you on Gube’s trip, knowing...how you feel about him.” She crossed her arms.

“So...is that a no to Vegas?”

She sighed, shook her head, “C’mon, [y/n]...”

“What?”

“Are you...are you fucking Matthew again?”

Her words hit like a bullet. They blew through you like a disaster, racking your stomach with nerves and knots and fear. You felt yourself falling in this pit of despair, of terror, the realization that your worst fear had come to life. And you could only say one thing:

“Huh?”

“Oh, God!” She shouted. “You are! You’re fucking Matthew again!”

You gasped, “C-Claire, what...what are you talking about?”

“Oh, cut the shit, [y/n]! I saw you guys in the pool at the beach house, okay?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and ducking your head to avoid her gaze.

“Claire...”

“He treated you like trash, [y/n]! He fucked me, he fucked you, and broke your heart—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The Roni thing had you depressed for weeks. And I thought maybe Alex was getting your mind off it. Oh, my God, [y/n], tell me you did not dump Alex to mess around with Matthew. Please, please tell me you have not been running around here, letting Matthew Gubler put his dick in you.”

“Stop!” You shouted.

“What is it about him? I used to have to pay you five bucks just to be in the same room as him. Now, he’s got you out at all hours of the night, and running off to Vegas?”

“What’s your deal, Claire?”

“My deal is that you’re my best friend. My very best friend. You deserve better.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered. You continued to fix your outfit, moving on to your hair — which you quickly styled. You grabbed your backpack and headed out without another word. From you or Claire.

You didn’t mention this spat to Matthew. You just began spending an abnormal amount of time at his place, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed you with open arms, supplied you with an ample amount of sex. He helped you study, waited up for you after ballet practice, and always, always kissed you goodbye when you left.

When spring break rolled around, Claire and you weren’t on speaking terms. She was well aware that all the time you were spending away was spent with Matthew, and she refused to entertain it. She spoke roommate business with you, kept things civil, but there were no late night movie marathons or afternoon lunches.

“I’m leaving for Vegas,” you told her, hauling your suitcase.

“Okay,” she replied, flipping through a book on her bed, and not looking up from it.

You sighed, “Okay.”

Matthew greeted you at the airport, keeping his distance to keep from alerting the rest of your friends to the relationship. “Hey, where’s Claire?”

You gulped, “Um, uh, she’s not coming. I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh. No, you didn’t. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Hey, how much money do you think I can win in one week?” You changed the subject.

He giggled, “I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you, aren’t I?”

“And keep me close,” you whispered. “Very close.”

You sat separately on the plane, but took the same car to his house. Matthew held the door open for everyone, winking at you as you came in last. His house was charming, had family photos plastered on the wall.

“Aw, look,” you murmured to him, pointing at a baby picture of him on the wall. “Little Matthew!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep it moving,” he rolled his eyes, and put his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the house.

The group gathered in the living room, silently admiring the place. “My boy!” Matthew’s mom exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with her arms wide open. This big smile grew out on Matthew’s face, and it made you smile instantly. His mom engulfed him a tender hug, holding him close, rubbing his back.

“Mom, you remember everyone,” Matthew said, his arm around his mom’s shoulders. He renamed everyone in the room, pointing them out to her. “And this is [y/n],” he motioned to you, giving you a faint smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler,” you greeted her. You reached out to shake her hand, and she shook it softly.

“[y/n]...” She whispered, subtly glancing at Matthew. “Okay. Nice to meet you, [y/n].”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Matthew quickly ushered everyone upstairs. He showed your friends to the guest rooms, and while they were getting squared away, you waited in the hall patiently. He came up to you, your smiles mirroring each other’s, and the distance between you two was dangerously small.

“So, should I just set up my stuff out here? Lay down in the corridor?” You chuckled.

He shook his head, “Come on.” He grabbed your hand and your suitcase, and led you down the hallway. He pulled you into a bedroom on the right, set your stuff down on the mattress, and closed the door.

“This is my room?” You asked.

“It sure is,” he nodded. “And the best part about it is that, there’s a room right next door.” He took slow strides up to you, a smirk on his face. You let him wrap his arms around you waist, pull you close. “And... tonight, or, every night this week, the door to that bedroom will be open. Real late at night. If you’d like to come check it out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You mumbled.

“Yeah,” he put his forehead against yours, sighing. “I have to go talk to my mom. Be here when I get back.”

“I might be,” you shrugged, watching him as he separated his body from yours. He gave you one last smile before leaving.

Downstairs, Matthew’s mom was cleaning up the living room, talking to his roommate Steve. Matthew took a seat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Hey, my love! Is everyone settled in?” She asked Matthew.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re getting there,” he replied.

“And your girlfriend?” She added.

He cut his eyes up to her, then Steve. Steve was chuckling under his breath. “I don’t have a girlfriend, mom.”

“Oh? [y/n]’s not your girlfriend?”

“What? No,” he shook his head. “No. She’s not.”

“She’s new. I’ve never met her before.”

“Yeah...well, she...she’s my...uh—“

“Are you guys...are you...” His mom hesitated. He looked up at her, confused, until she raised her eyesbrows at him suggestively.

“Oh, God, mom! Don’t ask me that!” He groaned, hopping up from the couch.

“I’ll explain.” Steve directed at Matthew’s mother. Matthew stopped in his tracks, and look at Steve, his arms crossed. “Matthew’s in love with [y/n].”

“What?” Matthew shouted. “I am not—why would you say that?” His face turned bright red, the words flailing from his lips in jumbled stutters.

“Oh, you really like her,” his mom grinned.

“I don’t!” Matthew’s voice squeaked.

“Matthew, I saw the way you two looked at each other. I saw how you came in with her, how you introduced her. You like her.”

“I’m hungry. Who’s hungry? I’m gonna see if everyone wants to go out for dinner.” Matthew rambled as he left the room.

Matthew didn’t speak to you much throughout the day. He let you ride in his car, but not in the front seat. He started to pull the chair out for you at dinner, but played it off like that wasn’t his intention. It was his idea to show you all a nearby bar, and there, he was knocking drinks back, partying with friends, joking around. When you smiled at him, he pretended not to notice, and ducked his head down. And while your friends were keeping you plenty happy, you suddenly didn’t feel like being out anymore.

You took an uber back to Matthew’s house, alone, and let yourself in through the back door as he had mentioned earlier. It was nearly two in the morning, pitch black, and you wound up getting lost upstairs. You waltzed into your room, at least you thought so. But when you opened the door, you came face to face with a room covered in movie posters, decorated with spooky trinkets. There was a blue undertone, a full size bed pushed against the wall and it smelled of smoke and mint.

“You found it.”

“Ah!” You jumped, and turned around. “Fuck,” you huffed. “I’ve gotta get you a bell or something. What the hell, Matthew?”

“Why’d you leave tonight?” Matthew asked, stepping in and closing the door.

“I was tired. I wanted to sleep.” You shrugged.

“In here?”

“I got lost. I can leave,” you sighed, and started heading for the door.

Matthew grabbed onto your waist, and pulled your body into his. “What’s up, princess?”

“Nothing. What’s up with you?” You scoffed.

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been weird tonight! Why? Is it your mom? Are you — are you not comfortable with me being here?”

“What? That’s crazy—“

“No, it’s not. Maybe me being here was a bad idea.”

Matthew sighed, and ran his fingers through your hair. He turned away and walked up to his dresser, “You wanna know one reason I’m so excited to have you here?”

You stared at the ground shyly, “Why?”

He rummaged through his things, pulling out a small object that he craddled in his hands. “Because here...I have this.” He held up a sleek, professional looking camera.

You eyed it, stumped, “A go-pro?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Thought we could put it to use.”

You tried to stifle your grin, “Put it to use?”

“Yeah. Let’s make a movie.”

You laughed dryly, “A movie?”

“Yeah. A dirty one.”

“Um...no!” You exclaimed.

“Why not?”

“Because...icky.”

He chuckled, “It’s not icky. It’s the same thing we always do. Just caught on film. C’mon, please? Pleeeease? I’ll make it tasteful.”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled, eyeing him intently. “Fine,” you agreed. “But, I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

His bed was comfortable, soft. It permanently smelled like him. You laid on your back, your dress pushed up your thighs, and your panties laid on the floor. You held the tiny camera in your hands and had the lense aimed between your legs. You tried not to moan too loudly, Matthew working his mouth on you underneath the bed sheets. He was putting on a performance, twirling his tongue on your clit, sucking on it, humming in delight.

You couldn’t help but touch his nose, admiring the way it sat on his face and grazed against your pelvis. You pressed your fingertip onto the bridge of his nose and ran it down to the tip, smiling down at him. He opened his eyes and peered in the camera. Watching on the camera screen, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his irises, his gaze filled with intensity and lust.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, your thumb tracing his cheekbone, “Come suck on my tits.” You commanded.

He grinned, and he quietly began to kiss up your stomach. You kept the camera close to his face, capturing his every move. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and you had to push his hair out of his face to catch the action. The camera picked up the sound of your whimpers, the sight of Matthew gropping your breasts, his lips on you.

Matthew kissed a trail up to your neck, sucking on your skin, so you could angle the camera and get a nice little shot of the two of you bundled up. “Give me this,” he whispered, taking the camera from your hand.

He sat back and filmed himself undoing his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking himself. “Want me to fuck you?” He asked, and angled the camera at your face. You looked into the lense and nodded, twirling your hair on your finger.

He bit down on his lip, pointed the camera back down at his cock, and pushed the tip into you. He listened to the wet sound of him sinking inside of you, pulling out halfway and them slamming back in. You tensed up and gripped onto the duvet cover, gasping. He immediately focused the camera on your face, watching through the screen as he pounded into you.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your eyes rolling back. Matthew was practically drooling over you, huffing and puffing as he writhed on top of you. His shoulder were too far away for you to grab onto, but you dug your nails into his torso. You face was laced with pleasure and estacy, sweat forming on your forehead, your lips parted slightly.

Matthew’s other hand held onto your face, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. He continued to record your face as his thumb slid into your mouth.

“Look at me,” he begged. “Look at me.”

Your eyes flickered up the camera, your lips tightened around his thumb and he nearly exploded. “Oh, God, you’re so hot,” he huffed. “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You whimpered against his skin, your jaw dropping down to release strangled moans. His hand dropped down to cup your boob, massage it between his fingers. He centered the camera on your chest, watching as your boobs bounced up and down. The camera followed his hand down to your clit, and he recorded himself fucking you and rubbing the sensitive nerve. You trembled underneath his touch, beginning to fall apart.

“You gonna come, baby?” He panted, camera pointed at your face. You nodded quickly, your face hot, your lip caught between your teeth. “Come on, come on my cock.”

His voice sent you over the edge, and the camera caught everything. You — quivering, groaning, moaning, gritting your teeth. It set Matthew on fire. He fucked you through your orgasm, until you were melting into the mattress. His hips bucked into you sloppily, and aggressively, now videoing his cock with the camera.

He moved the camera perfectly, capturing the moment he pulled out and came on your dress. His hand moved quickly to jerk himself off, until every last drop was on the fabric. He crumbled into a fit of breathy groans, hunching over and trying to catch his breath.

“My dress,” you whined.

“Well,” he sighed, shutting the camera off. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off then.”

By the time spring break was over, the two of you had made 5 videos. The number of times you fucked, however, was much greater. You were grateful for an opportunity to get back at him for every hickey he’d given you in the past. You constantly left marks on him that he had to hide from his mother, and you enjoyed every second of his squirming. Feeling much looser and more relaxed in Vegas, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Still secretive, still sneaky, just...less. You even got up the courage to sit on his lap in front of everyone, and no one said a word.

They did, however, let you sit with him on the plane ride home.

Matthew gave you a kiss on the cheek before you headed back to your dorm. You stepped up to your front door, took in a deep breath, and stared at the peephole. You weren’t ready. Ready to tell Claire everything that had happened. Even though there was no one in the world you wanted to tell more. But she had made her feelings about the situation very clear, and you had to respect that. So, instead of facing up to her right away, you left. You didn’t even think about why, or where you were going. Because the destination was obvious.

“[y/n]?” Matthew said as he answered the door. He looked down, noticing your suitcase still at your side. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I, uh, locked myself out the room. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until Claire gets back.” You asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded, letting you into the suite.

You got to his room and instantly crashed on his bed, feeling so comfortable. “Jet lag?” He laughed.

“Amongst other things.”

“You really need to let your body adjust to the time change.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling the covers over your body and snuggling into the pillows. He laughed at you, and sighed. Then he crawled into bed with you, and you let him hold you close. Thinking you were falling asleep, Matthew lightly ran his fingers down your cheek. It was soft and gentle and felt nice. And you desperately wished for a way to have this. To have him. Without losing your best friend.

But things between you and Claire just got worse.

Over the next few weeks, she not only kept you at arms length, but Matthew as well. Despite living with you, she found creative ways to keep your conversations short and brief, and oftentimes would leave before you got back from Matthew’s. And despite being Matthew’s friend, she managed to avoid him at every party, every class. It just sucked. Because you were so, so happy, and then there was Claire.

“We have to move out,” she grumbled as she entered the room.

“What?” You were stocking your mini fridge, but stopped to look at her.

“They’re kicking us out because of this goddamn virus! Fuck!” She shouted.

“What? Where’d you hear that?”

“The school just sent out an email.”

You rushed over to your bed, grabbing your phone off your mattress. The email notification popped up, causing a vibration in your hand, and you opened the app right away. All NYU students to be moved out of campus housing by Sunday.

“Sunday?” You shouted. “Sunday? They expect me to pack all my shit in 4 days?”

Claire would’ve responded, but she was too busy already getting her stuff together, and you were occupied with rampant thoughts about, well, everything. You’d have to pack. Everything. Clear out your room. You’d have to call home. Have someone help. Fuck. You’d have to live at home. Home. For months. You couldn’t go out on campus, couldn’t see your friends, your friends!

Matthew. Oh, God. Matthew.

He crossed your mind everyday for the next 2 days, as you packed your room into boxes and bags. He didn’t attempt to contact you, probably too busy with his own packing. Your family would be picking you up Saturday morning. So, you felt it best to go say goodbye on Friday.

It was almost midnight, and you had just finished packing. You stood outside of Matthew’s bedroom door for a long time, after having been let in by his suitemate. Before you could knock, the door swung open and the two of you nearly collided.

“Oh! [y/n].”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I was just on my way to see you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I’m leaving tomorrow morning. So, I wanted to come say...goodbye.” The words were hard to push out, and they hit Matthew even harder. His heart sunk to his stomach, and he wanted to do anything, anything, to make it go away.

He grabbed onto your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You instinctively gripped onto his shirt, your face contorted in shock and confusion. He pulled you into the room, slamming the door behind you.

“Matthew,” you whispered, but he continued to press his lips to yours. “Matthew.” You repeated as he began to kiss your neck. Your legs started to go weak, your breathing sped up. “Matthew, wait.”

He stopped abruptly and looked you in the eye, your face in his palm. “What is it?”

“I just—“ you sighed. “Are you okay?”

He digested the words for a second, looking down at you with a soft gaze. He kissed you once again, arms now around your waist, chest pressed against yours. You gave in. You both needed this.

It was hungry. Eager. Clothes were torn off in less than a minute. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, tangled his fingers in your hair and devoured your body. He left a trail of hickies from your neck, to your chest, to your rib cage. The sensation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling, attempting to control your breathing.

Soft kisses on your thighs led to an intense session of him eating you out, him pressing you against his face, his tongue encircling your clit. You rolled your hips against his mouth, gasping his name and pulling his hair. He worked himself to the brink, his jaw going numb, until you cried out his name as you came. It was an other-worldly, hypersensitive, super sonic orgasm. And it took you a minute to recover.

His body laid on top of yours, his lips on your neck, his torso between your legs. You whined into your mouth as he pressed his dick in you, slowly, gently, until he was buried inside you. You could feel his arm muscles contracting and relaxing under your touch. His breath hit your shoulder with each quiet groan that escaped his lips. He put his forehead against yours, watching your face as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace.

You hummed softly, and kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his neck. His mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. “Oh, my God, [y/n],” he panted. He never said your name to you. Ever. Very rarely. Especially not in bed. And it tore you apart. You held onto him for dear life and looked him in the eye as you massaged your clit.

Your moans increased in volume together, both of you nearing your release at once. You whimpered uncontrollably, your eyes fluttering closed. You couldn’t see Matthew watching you, but he was. He watched the way your hair framed your face, your expression of pleasure. He placed soft kisses all over your face, and the moment he caught your lips on his, you came. You accidentally bit down on his lip, and he let out a weak moan.

“S-sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he nodded. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, baby.”

He followed his words with a grunt, slamming himself into you. Your chests rubbed against each other’s, the bed squeaked along with the movement of Matthew’s hips. His moans became breathy, vulnerable, and he proactively pulled himself out of you. You dazedly reached down and stroked his cock, watching his face as he trembled. He said your name again, faintly, very faintly, in a fit of moans as he released himself onto your stomach.

You were sticky and sweaty and gross — both of you — but you held each other close, panting and wheezing.

You spent the night at his dorm for the first time that night. The two of you slept cuddled up, his head on your chest, your arms wrapped around each other. At six in the morning, you woke up and slid out of bed without waking Matthew. You kept your vision away from him as you got dressed. And when you were ready to go, you turned to him and admired him.

He looked peaceful, soft. You wanted nothing more than to wake him up, stay in bed with him for hours. But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you gave him a kiss on top of his head, and you left.

[PART 6.]

#mine #college!matthew #esny #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #mgg smut #mgg imagine

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sweetness47 · 3 years

Text

Almost Too Late

This is for @idreamofplaid and @girl-next-door-writes for their ‘They Belong to Us Now’ Challenge. Hope you guys like it! Congrats on your milestones btw.

Warnings: Swearing, death mentioned, dark spirits, kissing at the end, pining I’m going to say PG-14

Prompt #16: If You die, I’m going to kill you.

Theme: AU Castle

Pairing: Sam x reader

Life was good, or mostly. My friends and I hunt monsters, save people from the things that go bump in the night. This isn’t what your thinking though. We don’t drive places. Most of our travel is done by horseback or hiking. The industrial revolution came, left, and is in the process of being reborn, but it’s very slow going.

Every day is a new adventure. It’s just four of us: me, Dean, Sam, and my friend Charlie. Oh, and spoiler alert…I’ve had a major crush on Sam forever! Like seriously. I mentally drool when he talks to me, stands close to me, and my underwear is a sopping mess by the time the day ends. It’s super hard being so attracted to him, especially since he has no clue. I hesitate to bring it up, my worst fear is that confessing my feelings would ruin what we have.

That would kill me.

So I suffer silently. Charlie has noticed my pining, and has tried to get me to admit my feelings to him. But I’m terrified. If I lost him because I chose to share my attraction, I’d never be able to live with myself. I would lose the one thing in my life worth living for, besides friends, and that would kill me, literally.

I’ve pictured all the different ways I could approach the subject. I could casually just walk beside him and slide into my feelings. I could just jump him while everyone’s sleeping (my personal favorite…for obvious reasons) but what if he rejects my advances? I just can’t find an outcome where I’m not overthinking, where I don’t see chances of disaster, of rejection, of heartbreak.

Ugh. FML. Seriously.

Our travels bring us to a long abandoned castle. It’s creepy as fuck, but if properly fixed and cleaned up, it could actually be a really good home for us to work out of, a place where we can just hold up and crash, seek safety, keep our belongings we don’t usually need on hunts.

It’s really big, in an intimidating sort of way. I shiver as I walk closer and touch the stone walls. There’s a presence or two here, things that are tethered to this ancient land, to this castle. It’s dark, and dangerous.

And it knows we’re here.

“Guys? We’re not alone here.”

Sam, Dean and Charlie all turn towards me, and wait. They know I’m able to feel things, so if I say to be careful, they listen.

I continue. “I don’t know if there’s more than one, but whatever is in here is dangerous, like deadly. And it already knows we’re here. The good news? It hates light. Bad news though…the sun will be setting in a couple of hours. We won’t stand a chance if we don’t make a plan.”

“Is it worth us even staying? I mean, we could always find another place to shack up.” Dean’s voice tells me he’s going against his heart. He really likes this place as much as the rest of us, but he also knows not to take my feelings lightly.

“Maybe, but how often do we come across such a magnificent place? A lot of castles have long since been destroyed by one disaster or another. With some work, and luck, we could make this our home. I love the idea of having a solid place to rest once in a while.”

I love Charlie. She’s never one to beat around the bush. Straight forward and honest. I nod in agreement, but as I stare at the dark looming windows and the ancient structure of the castle, I can’t help but wonder if Dean might have a point. I personally have never felt something this dangerous before and frankly, I honestly don’t know how to deal with whatever dwells inside.

The human called YN is correct, something dark and dangerous does occupy this castle. Me. I am the biggest threat here, the banshee that recently sought refuge here is nothing compared to my dark power.

I am a void, a darkness, sentient and silent. I feed off fear and humans, the ones that are foolish enough to try and remove me from my home. Many have tried. None have succeeded.

I am near indestructible. I revel in the power I possess. I will never let anyone take it from me.

I used to be malicious, hell bent on finding the next willing victim to feed my hungry darkness. Then my brother entity, the one hunters dubbed “the Empty” made a deal with an angel, where the angel would help save what was left of this world and then go willingly into that void.

The anguish I felt from those the angel considered family was horrific. They mourned. I hated the idea that the one like me could be so cruel. We were made for harbouring souls, ones that had no other place to go. We were made to feed on those dead and lost, to grow and suck the life from them. But we were never to make deals to take a willing live being, no matter the end game.

That was what our creator told us. My brother didn’t listen.

I did.

I left because of that. And was punished for it.

Now I am tethered to this stone building. I’ve been here for a long time, and have grown quite fond of the peace and quiet. Most of my energy is gotten from stray animals, or the occasional human. But I absolutely refuse to leave.

So I prepare to fight. I won’t lose this home.

Sam peeks through the door and down the dark hall. “Sounds like fun. Shall we?” He grabs a flashlight and steps over the threshold. The moment he does, I feel the change in whatever has possessed this place.

I grab his arm. “Sam, be careful.”

He nods. “Always.”

I snort at that response, because for as much as I love the brothers, they have had a tendency to get into some stupid situations.

Dean follows Sam, then Charlie and I step inside. I’m blown away from what greets us. The first archway we encounter opens to a massive foyer, large enough to rival a grand ballroom, with corridors leading off in all directions, as well as a grand wide staircase, gleaming with gold accents and dark cherry wood railings. All I was missing was the fancy ball gown and a crowd of ballroom dancers to complete the picture.

Honestly it felt like we’d stepped into a fairy tale, but the danger looming in the background dispelled that notion pretty quick. And now that we were inside, I could definitely sense more than one. The first one, the dark presence that resided in the walls, it was intelligent, and it didn’t feel as threatening as the other. Spirit number two was restless, malevolent, and downright deadly.

“Guys, just a heads up. There’s two different entities here, both are dangerous, but one of them is more so than the other. Be careful. We go in pairs. Watch each other’s backs.”

Everyone nods, and Dean whisks me down one hall while Sam and Charlie explore the other. The moment we’re alone, Dean calls me out on what I didn’t say.

“Ok hotshot, spill. What aren’t you telling us?”

I sigh. Dean knows I have a thing for his brother, and has encouraged me numerous times to tell Sam how I feel. He also knows I have a habit of keeping important information from the others when I feel like it could jeopardise an outcome.

I stop and face my friend. “It’s just a feeling Dean. Honest.”

Dean purses his lips as if trying to figure out if my words are the truth. “Ok. But the moment that changes, you tell us. None of this hero bullshit you usually pull. I saw the look in your eyes. Your spooked. And you never get spooked like this.”

He’s right. It’s one of the reasons I’m good at hunting the things that go bump in the night. I don’t scare easily.

I nod. “I know. I promise to tell you if the feeling becomes more. Ok? Can we drop it now?”

He does, but only because I have a tendency to blow a fuse if I’m pushed too far. And I need to be on top of my game if I want to stay ahead of the dark.

An ear-splitting, high pitched scream echoes through the entire castle, the walls vibrating as it bounces off everything it touches.

Dean and I look at each other and say at the same time. “Banshee!!”

We radio Charlie and Sam. They confirm they heard the creature as well, and promise to keep a close eye on their surroundings. I can’t shake the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach though. It’s almost like someone’s going to die…

FUCK!

“Dean! We have to find Sam and Charlie now!”

He takes one look at my facial expression, and whatever he finds there is enough to convince him not to argue. Another banshee scream fills the halls, and we take off back to the main foyer as we try to radio Charlie and Sam. They don’t answer, so we head in the direction they took when we split off.

The horrible feeling grows with each step, and when we stumble upon a broken two-way radio, I swallow hard. Dean calls out, but neither answer. I look at the elder Winchester, who’s grim looks mirror my own.

Suddenly, we’re thrown across the room by the high pitched wail, having been too distracted to notice her presence. I recover quickly, my need to contain her is great, she is a road block in my quest to find my friends and make sure they are all right. I summon my will, and I throw everything I have, everything I am feeling, at my nemesis. Her screams fade as she disintegrates before our eyes.

It’s then we see Charlie and Sam, both of whom are lying on the ground, motionless. Charlie is moaning and attempting to open her eyes and sit up, but my focus is on Sam, or rather his lack of movement. I’m paralyzed by fear when I notice his shallow breathing, the struggles he has just trying to breathe.

I fall to my knees beside him. “Sam? Baby, talk to me.”

He coughs and smiles weakly, blood trickles out of his mouth with each wheeze. “You called me a pet name. I knew you liked me.”

Tears fell as I smiled at his attempt at humor. “Asshole! Don’t you dare try and distract me. I swear Sam, if you die, I will kill you. Do you hear me? I will fucking hunt your ass down and kill you!”

His answer is to chuckle, but it quickly turns to another bout of coughing, and more blood oozing from his perfect lips. He never gets to say what he’s thinking as his lungs give out, and he stops breathing.

My worlds stops. I can’t breathe.

A gasp leaves my lips, and quickly turns into a strangled cry. I fall over him, hugging his still form, begging him to wake up, to come back to me. I can’t live without him.

Why the hell did I pair with Dean? Why? I could have protected him! I’m such an idiot! And now I’ll never be able to tell him I love him, I’ll never hold him again, or kiss him the way I’ve always imagined.

Because he’s gone.

That’s when I feel the other presence, the heartache that mirrors my own. The entity within the walls is feeling my pain, which is weird in itself, like it’s mourning my loss.

So I engage it in conversation.

You…why do you mourn my loss? I ask it in my head.

There’s no delay in the answer I receive. I have felt human loss before, it saddens me. What makes this human special?

I love him. He is everything to me…the air I breathe, the life in my body. He’s my reason for living. Is my answer.

This time there is considerable pause before it talks to me. I can bring him back for you. All I ask in return is to be allowed to stay in these walls. I have grown to like it here.

Deal. If you can save him, I will not harm you. But you can never harm me or my friends for as long as we live in this place.

The entity agrees, and I feel it join with my mind, it’s darkness seeping into my body, taking my power and my connection to Sam. I involuntarily move my hands to hover over his chest, and close my eyes as power is released from me into him.

Sam’s body shudders and suddenly he gasps, sitting upright, his lungs taking in gulps of fresh air. He coughs then looks at me, eyes wide.

And I fold my arms around his neck and kiss him.

It takes about two seconds for him to kiss me back, parting my lips with his tongue. Kissing Sam is everything I imagined and more, he tastes sweet, like cotton candy. I’m crying again, but it’s tears of joy. I eventually tear my mouth from his, needing to say three words.

“I love you.”

His response comes immediately. “I love you too YN. Always have.”

He kisses me again, leaving Dean and Charlie cheering and teasing us to get a room. I look up, and a shadowy figure smiles in my direction. The entity.

Thank you. I manage.

It nods, then fades into the walls.

@idreamofplaid @girl-next-door-writes @drkcnry67 @lyarr24

#they belong to us now #sam x reader #au castle #post apocalyptic

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

Note

Hey! I just read a couple of your drabbles and I LOVE THEM!💙💙

So if you don't mind, could you please do a Harringrove drabble/ficlet based on either of the two (or a mix of both, if you can) Twenty One Pilots songs "Tear in My Heart" and/or "Smithereens"?

Because, for me, Tear in My Heart is very Billy and Smithereens is very Steve👉👈

Thank you!!💜

Ok so love this and you have an amazing mind, just so you know.

This is like a 2 in 1 fic post so :))))

So smithereens and steve work so well together, like

“I go step to a dude much bigger than me/ for you I know that I would get messed up, weigh 153/ For you I would get beat to smithereens”

Like this is just Steve's personality. He got into a fight every season and barely ever wins without intervention. And like i could see him just being so overcome with emotions that he just does what he knows, which is self destruct.

Like with his fight with Jonathan, he almost accepts that Nancy was too good for him and thinks that he might as well take other people with him.

Then with Tommy in the parking lot, it’s not really a fight, but it shows that he has a conscience and fixes his mistakes.

Then with his fight with Billy, he only tries to protect the kids, even if he’s losing miserably.

I could 100% see steve having snuck into billy’s room during the night once (before he really knew about neil), not to do anything nefarious, but just that he had a really bad nightmare, because there was a small power outage, and billy is really good at helping him sleep afterwards.

And let's just say that Billy's alarm clock (which is always set for 5:30am, half an hour before Neil wakes up just to give him peace of mind) doesn’t go off because of the power outage.

And Neil comes to wake up Billy for school because he hasn’t woken up yet, and sees Billy spooning Steve and both boys are snoring and pressing bare chest to bareback, and so deep asleep that Neil lets them sleep, letting them wake up on their own.

And they do. Billy wakes up around 8am, feeling insanely well rested. He smiles and squeezes Steve before turning to sit up from his bed to look at his alarm clock, that’s blinking on and off and reads 3:18am, but the sun’s up and… the house is quiet.

Billy feels the dread settle deep in his chest, and swears he could cry if he were .000000001% more worried.

He hears the creaking of work boots walking around the house and knows, just from the tension lingering in the air, that it’s just an angry Neil pacing in the kitchen/ dining room and waiting for Billy to wake up.

He doesn’t know whether to wake Steve up and tell him to escape out of the window and run or just let him lay there anyway, it’s obvious that Neil already saw.

He let’s Steve sleep and throws a shirt on and slowly walks out of the room into the pits of hell, seeing Neil turn to him with an angry face a brighter shade of red than a firetruck.

As slurs are screamed and Billy is thrown into the walls and has family tchotchkes launched at his face, Steve wakes up after a particularly painful shove makes the wall shake, pushing a single picture frame fall off the wall on the other side.

Steve shoots up after that loud bang and hears a wail and muffled yelling before something else hits the wall. He grabs his shirt and puts it on as he walks out the bedroom door, seeing glass shattered on the hardwood leading to the family room, but what he sees around the corner is so much worse.

Billy’s bleeding in about twenty different spots, body curled in a ball in the corner of the kitchen, Neil standing over him, but turning to Steve with a grin.

Steve feels his blood boil as dots connect and loose ends are tied up, making the connection between Billy's bad nights and the new bruises he’ll sport under his shirt. The way he tries to hide it when he flinches at loud, authoritative men who are bigger than him. Why he told Steve to never call his house and why he is the way he is.

So Steve doesn’t think for another second before launching himself at Neil, slamming him into the floor, but that’s about as much as he wins that fight, because Neil is slamming him back and beating him the same way he did his son.

And billy, let’s admit it, is probably much stronger and a better fighter than his dad, but it’s so hard to fight back against an abuser that has controlled your life for so long. Even when you know you could win and that they deserve it, neil hargrove is still his dad and he could never get it into his head to hit him back.

But Steve was trying too hard to take him down because he was doing the wrong thing and losing terribly, never having won a fight once in his damn life.

Billy’s sitting up against the wall, ribs in excruciating pain and vision blurry, but he sees Steve getting up and kicking Neil once before backing up, and Billy sees his camaro keys in the dish by the front door.

So he stands up as fast as he can, ignoring the dizziness as if that would make it go away, grabs steve’s arm and shoots to the door, grabbing the camaro keys and shooting outside

He takes the driver’s seat, despite his dizzying head, just knew that he’d have to drive for a few miles then they could reevaluate, and Steve was clumsily getting into the passenger side.

Billy had only just started the car when Neil came rushing out the door, screaming threats and slurs as if that would make them stop their escape.

The camaro backed out of the driveway and shot down cherry lane in record time, going to the center of town, the least likely place Neil would cause a scene.

It isn’t until Billy puts the car in park that he can bear to look at steve.

He’s got a bloody nose and his shirt sleeve is torn off, hair disheveled from both sleep and the fight.

But billy looks so much worse.

He’s still hunched to the left from his ribs, he’s got tons of cuts along his arms, legs, and face from, what steve suspects, the broken glass on the floor. He’s also got this wild-animal-look in his eyes. One that screams, I escaped alive, but at what cost?

“Bill-”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Why-- I’m sorry are you asking me why I attacked your dad when he was kicking you while you were, literally, on the floor?”

“Ye--no, I-- but you got hurt, why’d you do that?”

“Billy, what did you expect me to do?” a shrug is all he gets in response--”If you saw my dad doing that to me, can you honestly expect yourself to stand there and watch it happen, or walk away and let it happen?”

Billy turns to face the grocery store--Melvad’s-- that they were parked in front of.

“It’s all weaving together in my head. All the bruises, the jumpiness, how you like to control things, it all makes sense, but what doesn’t make sense is why you wouldn’t just tell me, Bill,”

“And what exactly would you have been able to do about it, huh? You gonna take care of the situation or some shit, Steve? Trust me, I’m used to it and--”

“But you shouldn’t have to be ‘used to it,’ Bill, that’s abuse, and you don’t deserve that shit, not ever,”

Their conversation is halted by a tap on the glass by Steve's window, and the boys turn to see Joyce Byers looking more motherly than ever.

Steve rolled the window down.

“The hell happened to you boys?” she asked but corrected herself with a shake of her head, “Doesn’t matter, just come in to clean up, we’ve got bandages and antiseptic, free of charge,”

Billy wiped away the tears he didn’t know had formed and nodded to her, “We’ll be out in a minute, Mrs. Byers.”

“Joyce, please,” she demanded softly.

“Joyce, of course,” Billy offered a subdued smile.

She walked off and Steve rolled the window back up.

“Thank you,” Billy spoke quietly after a moment. “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you worse,”

“Billy, for you I would get beat to smithereens,”

“Well of course you would, you weigh like 100 pounds, not like you could put up much of a fight,”

“Hey! I gave him a black eye, thank you very much!”

“Oh, well, my bad, baby, then maybe you weigh 150, huh?”

Steve grumbled from the passenger seat, “153,”

Billy chuckled and grabbed Steve's hand over the console, locking eyes and smiling at each other, enjoying their small moment.

“We should probably get in there before Joyce comes out herself?” Steve sighed as he moved to take his hand out of Billy's.

“One more minute, please,”

Steve just tightened his grip on Billy's hand and moved towards the center of the car to rest his head on Billy's shoulder, Billy's head falling onto his.

Billy and Tear In My Heart thooooooooo

Like it fits him so well, again this is amazing.

I also see billy as a resident hater of america and it’s fucking government becuase, well, they have a history between his myriad of speeding tickets and, oh what was it, oh yes, the tentacle monster that impaled and possessed him.

And in California, there’s no cold weather where he lives, so there’s not exactly potholes to avoid.

The first time he drives into the cooler states and has to avoid potholes, he decides that his car deserves a vacation after this.

But the potholes become the biggest issue after he and Steve start dating.

He’s absolutely enamoured by this boy, because who wouldn’t be. He respects Billy's limits and can hold his own in arguments, and they fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle.

Steve has changed Billy, not that he’d admit it, but he’s softer now and all of his sharp edges have been baby-proofed. They’re still there and dangerous, but they’re more difficult to be stabbed by.

All the cracks in his heart have been filled with gold, like Kintsugi (a Japanese technique of repairing broken pottery with gold).

And Billy can complain and complain about Steve's clinginess, about his intrusion into his life, and his persistence to stay, but deep inside Billy's never felt more loved or cared for in his life.

But these damn potholes might just make him lose it.

Because billy is anything but a bad driver, he can control the car even when it’s going 45 over the speed limit, but now that steve falls asleep after their movie dates or when they’re coming back from barbeques with the party, Joyce, and Hopper, he’s driving the speed limit.

Which is just appalling.

But some of these potholes are so deep you could dive into them and not hit the bottom.

Like what the fuck, Indiana?

And, one time, Max is with them after a barbeque when Steve falls asleep and Billy slows the car down to what feels like snail speed, but is just the speed limit.

“Why are we going so slow?” Max asked as she leaned forward from the backseat to whisper to billy.

“Steve’s sleepin’,” he said, as if it was the obvious reason.

“You’re whipped,”

“Shut up, Shitbird,”

Max leans back into her seat with a grin on her face at the absolute mush her big, tough brother has turned into for Steve Harrington.

#harringrove #stranger things #steve x billy #billy x steve #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing #twenty one pilots #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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alpineglowx · 3 years

Text

I'll Do The Same {Din Djarin x OC} Chapter Five: Nightmares

pairing: din djarin x female oc

warnings: none

* * * *

“I respect your boundaries, your rights as a bounty hunter. But I need you to know that I’m in this for the long haul, whatever it takes. You can kick me off right now but I want to let you know that I’m not leaving without having said my peace. I love that kid, and I care about you too. I know we have a lot to go through, but I’m willing to do this. I don’t know what it all entails, bringing the kid to his own people, having him choose his own path, but I at least want to try. Because I didn’t give enough of a fight last time something like this happened, and I’m not going to do it again.”

The Mandalorian eyed her for the longest time, Grogu’s dark eyes staring back at her as well. She waited, taking a deep breath until he finally said,

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“I know,” Thell admitted.

“I’m a Mandalorian. You know I can handle this task myself.”

Thell threw her hands up defensively. “I’m... I’m not saying all of this just because I don’t think you could do it, in fact... you’re probably one of the best qualified people in the galaxy to do it.”

“Then why offer to help?”

Thell hung her head, debating her answer as she eyed the skyline of Coruscant just beyond the Razor Crest.

“I...I know it sounds kind of selfish, but I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t know anyone else, Mando. And even though the circumstances have been... strange, to say the least, I've enjoyed my time. And I'm not totally useless... I did save his life once or twice, if I remember correctly.”

Thell risked a glance at him, tentatively, until she looked at the kid again.

“I could still help with whatever you need, and I promise I won't get in your way. I mean, you’ve probably needed help before, right?... I'll stay out of your business. And when this is all over, I'll find my own way. I promise.”

A long pause. “It won’t be easy, Thell.”

She set her shoulders. “I know the risks. But I’m alone right now. My parents, my home, everything I’ve ever known is gone. I don’t have somewhere to call my own. So what do I have to lose?”

“You know you could risk getting a bounty placed on your head, too?”

Thell nodded. “I’m aware. But... he’s more important to me than any of that.”

She let her gaze linger on Grogu, held tightly in the Mandalorian’s arms. Reaching one arm out, she delicately let her hand rest on his head, rubbing his ear with her thumb. He murmured happily, wrapping one small hand around her thumb.

“Okay.”

Thell’s eyes drifted back to the Mandalorian’s helmet, to the V slit, and she could feel her heart beat a little faster. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I promise I won’t bother you incessantly, or ask a million questions. I know you don’t like that.”

“You know how to shoot?”

“Uh,” Thell stuttered. “Not particularly.”

“You’ll have to learn if you want to stay.” As the Mandalorian spoke, Thell could feel her heart rise with joy. “And look after the kid. I’ll show you how to pilot the Razor Crest too just in case of any emergencies.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not easy work. This life... It’s not easy.”

Thell smiled, just a small, crooked smirk in his direction. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Because when he clapped her playfully on the shoulder, and the baby cooed in joy, Thell could only feel more at home than she had ever been.

They started slow, gathering some remaining supplies on Coruscant and flying off into hyperspace for another time. The Mandalorian was still quiet, no more talkative than he had been when she was only supposed to stay with them for a month. That had passed now, and while he had opened up to her some, he was still quiet.

She wondered how long this journey would take them. Mando seemed desperately attached to the kid, as much as he would probably deny it if she really asked, so she knew this trip wouldn't be an easy one. It hasn't been easy so far. Thell had nearly died trying to get Grogu back to safety that one night in the woods.

But for once, as she lay down to sleep, the steel surroundings of the Razor Crest were warm. She could memorize every crate, indent in the steel, and labeled supply box until she fell asleep. She had no idea how long she would be with the two of them, but for now, she didn’t have to worry about it. While it had taken some persuading and practically begging on her end, Mando had let her stay with them. And while he wasn’t the easiest person to be her true self in front of, she was figuring that out too. Who was she when she was no longer a servant, but a person all her own?

The first night with her strange new family, Thell woke with a start. Sweat streaked down her face and neck and she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The cargo hold was silent around her except for the constant humming of the Razor Crest. They had stopped in the atmosphere of an uninhabited planet, safe for the moment to sleep for the night.

The hammock bed that Mando had swung up for her rocked as she rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. She could hear the baby snoring softly in the sleeping chamber across from her, and debated throwing her blanket back over her shoulders to fall asleep again. But something like fear was gnawing at her, so Thell swung her legs over the side, carefully maneuvering to slide back down to the floor and grab her cloak. The door to the sleeping chamber was cracked, and she peeked inside out of pure curiosity; but the bed was empty, and she couldn’t see the Mandalorian in the cargo hold. She made her way up quietly to the cockpit to find the Mandalorian lounging in the pilot’s seat.

At her entry, he made no remark, so Thell quietly sat herself down in the adjacent seat, leaning her head back to rest comfortably. She could see Mando from the corner of her eye, his gaze fixed on the stars outside. The silence was comfortable, so Thell relaxed against the seat, letting her eyes follow the trail of stars outside.

“Are you okay?”

At his sudden question, Thell nearly jumped.

“Uh, yeah...,” Thell muttered. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and when he did, his voice was low.

“You seem shaken.”

Thell squirmed in her seat. “I... think I had a nightmare. When I used to have them back home, I would go to a place where I could see the stars. It calmed me down...” she explained, then whispered under her breath, still does.”

Her eyes wandered, pinpointing constellations and planets. A month had gone by and she still wasn’t used to sitting in the vastness of space, with the stars and planets just at her fingertips.

“That’s Mon Cala... I think,” she said, pointing to a bluish dot in the distance. “And D’Qar’s over there. Naboo should be right there next to it.”

She could hear the Mandalorian huff through his helmet. “You know you’re stuff.”

Thell couldn’t help but smile, mildly proud of herself. “My mom used to teach me the star systems every night when I was kid... Not sure why, but it helped distract me from everything else. Guess it can come in handy now.”

Thell’s words drifted off, until she set her eyes on Mando again, genuinely curious. The glow from space littered onto his helmet, showering the Beskar in starlight.

“Don’t take this the wrong way... but how long has it been since you took it off?”

“Last night,” he responded quickly, almost comically.

“I...,” Thell started. “I mean... Since someone saw your face.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest, relaxing against the seat. Thell wondered if she had stepped over a boundary of his until he spoke again.

“I was young. No one has seen my face since I swore the Creed.”

“And the Creed... it’s like your code? Your way of life?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Thell murmured, and sank back against her seat. Whatever dreams or wishes she had of ever seeing his face might as well be crushed.

“What color is your hair?” He slowly turned her direction, until Thell had to throw her hands up. “What? You get to see my face all the time.”

“It’s brown.”

. . . .

“Hold it here, on the grip. And make sure that the safety is off before you shoot.”

“The safety?”

“Right here. It doesn’t let you fire if it’s on.”

Thell’s eyes widened. “Oh. Okay.”

The Mandalorian passed the small black blaster to her, to which she hesitantly wrapped her fingers around the grip.

“Hold it even with your shoulder, one hand to stabilize yourself.”

Thell did as he had instructed, carefully pointing the blaster to a target he had set up several yards away. They had landed on a small desert planet just outside a small neighboring village. The air was more dry and warm here than Thell had ever experienced, and she was constantly wiping sweat away from her eyes.

She shook droplets from her forehead against before readjusting her arm, pointing the blaster towards the target. The last time she had held a blaster was the night she had first met him, the one the guard had forced into her hands.

He had killed that guard, and it suddenly rocked her.

Slowly, she set her arms down, letting them rest at her sides. The Mandalorian was quiet, but Thell could sense he was waiting for her to shoot. After a moment, he asked,

“What’s wrong?”

Thell couldn’t make eye contact with him; she could only see the blaster being shoved into her hands, all over again.

“I... I can’t do this right now,” she said, starting to stumble back. “I need a break.”

As she turned to leave, she felt the Mandalorian’s iron grip on her wrist, keeping her close.

“Thell,” he said, gazing down at her. “What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, she gently placed the blaster in his empty hand and pulled out of his grip, turning her back to him.

Taking a deep breath, she answered, “The last time I held a blaster was the night you took Darand. It was given to me from a guard you killed.”

When all the Mandalorian did was stay quiet, Thell said, in a rather low tone, “There was blood on the blaster. His blaster. It was the one I was defending myself with... but why? Why am I using one now if just to do the same thing?”

“Because you chose this.”

“But I... I can’t kill someone. Having that weapon in my hands... it felt like too much power. It was too much power.”

“Sometimes we can’t make those calls.”

Thell turned, slowly, peered at him from the corner of her eye. “What do you mean?”

“... Sometimes the moment comes too quick, and we’re forced to make a decision: we choose to live, or we die. You would protect the kid, wouldn’t you? Protect yourself?”

“Yes... but I... At what cost?”

“You can’t ask yourself those questions when you're forced in the moment. But you can decide right now whether or not the kid is that important to you.”

Thell could feel tears in her eyes; she knew she had to make the decision, but somehow, it was pressing against her harder than she had imagined. This was all part of becoming her new self, her identity as a new person. She knew she didn’t want to be a killer, she never would be.

But if it meant protecting herself, the kid, and even Mando himself, she would do it.

But she could only nod, blinking away tears.

“Then you know why I’m giving you this.” When he passed her the blaster again, Thell took it with trembling hands.Without Mando having to instruct her, she raised the blaster at shoulder level again, switching off the safety with ease. The weapon still shook, so Thell closed her eyes, letting the fear wash away momentarily as she realized that she was in control.

With her eyes back open, and every intent and all attention focused on the target, she fired, shooting straight through the center of the circle and leaving a gaping, blazing hole.

“I’m not saying it’s easy, but sometimes it’s all you have.”

Mando trained her during the first week, until Thell felt comfortable enough shooting the targets. The nightmares remained, now wrought with blurry images of standing over that guard, and Thell still found herself wandering into the cockpit. The Mandalorian had never been much of a conversationalist, but it eased her to know that he didn’t mind her company. He didn’t hide away once she entered or showed disinterest in her conversation topics. In fact, she was getting to know him too. He was, slowly but surely, becoming her friend. At night, amidst starlight, she felt more comfortable not being expected to hold a blaster and fire at targets. Here, she felt more herself.

“Do you ever sleep?” She asked him one night.

“Yes.”

“... just seems like you’re in here most nights.”

“You are, too.... we train all day. Aren’t you tired?”

Part of her was.

“I... a bit. But I enjoy this.”

“Hm,” was all the Mandalorian said.

Getting a reading of his emotions had been the hardest part for Thell. Without seeing his face, or hearing much of a tone change in his modulated voice, it was hard for her to pinpoint exactly how he was feeling. He didn’t seem annoyed at her most days, but sometimes doubt would creep into her mind. Was he going to change his mind in letting her stay if she asked too many questions? What were the right questions to ask? Who was this guy, anyway?

But he seemed to get there first.

“Still having the nightmares?”

Thell’s brows raised. “Um... Yeah. I am.”

“What do you see?”

She leaned against the seat, trying to figure out what he was getting at. “That guard you killed... The one that gave me the blaster.”

“You see him every time you hold it.” When she nodded, the Mandalorian continued. “That’s the fear holding you back, Thell. You’ll have to learn to overcome it.”

“How?”

“You have to fight your own demons... figuring out who you want to be.”

Finally, was all Thell could think. All she had ever wanted to be, since she was a kid, was her own person, not a husk of someone who had come before her or the expectations of another.

But having someone else put it into words was more than frightening, and all she could think of were the millions of questions that were racing through her head. How does she find out who she’s meant to be, where she’s meant to be? Who is she without her parents or original home?

But she could deal with those questions later, or she knew they would consume her would she let them sit. Instead, she perked up, directing her attention back at the Mandalorian.

“Mando?”

“Yes?” His voice was nearly soft, his attention focused on the stars outside the cockpit window.

But Thell’s eyes were on the strange signet on his right shoulder pauldron, an animal of some sort with a large horn. It was a symbol for something, and Thell knew it.

“The symbol on your shoulder,” she started, pointing to her own shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s the sign of the Mudhorn.”

Thell’s brows creased. “And... what’s it for?”

“It’s my Clan.”

“Clan Mudhorn, then?” At her question, Mando nodded. “I haven’t heard of that clan before...”

“It’s because it’s just the kid and me... I had to fight a Mudhorn on Tatooine to get back pieces of the Razor Crest that Jawas had stolen from me.” The way he spoke of the past, how recent Thell wasn’t sure, made him warmer in her mind. This strange crew of two, a rugged Mandalorian and his adopted green baby, were their own clan.

Thell couldn’t help but feel a slight fondness rise in her soul for them. Yes, she loved them, the kid especially, before he had agreed to take her on to help his cause, but now something was different. Because the child wasn’t just this small, helpless creature, and the Mandalorian was not the same man that had walked in on her that night with Grogu in her arms, a blaster pointed directly at her face. He had been ready to kill her, would have, if she hadn’t let Grogu go.

She still didn’t know them very well, but she knew he wouldn’t kill her now. No, maybe not ever. Because she was risking tooth and limb, every opportunity she had at some normalcy in her life, to return this child to where he belonged. And she would gladly do it if it meant having Mando accompany her, protect her. He didn’t see her like everyone else did, like the daughter of a servant, like a lower class citizen. And it made something deep swell within her heart, a feeling she had never allowed herself to feel before.

She just wondered if he felt any ounce of the same thing she did.

“Does the name Sai’Lya have any significance?”

His question tore her out of her trance, and Thell blinked to look at him clearly.

“I don’t think so. Why... Do you know something?”

He shook his head lightly, his attention turning back towards the stars. “I don’t.”

“Hm,” Thell muttered, slouching against her seat and letting her fingers toy with the leather cord around her neck, the one holding the necklace to her body.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, nearly jumping up from the seat and wondering if she had scared Mando.

“I do have one thing of my dad’s... I was gonna show you, the night those people shot at us.”

His helmet slowly turned her way as Thell fished the necklace out from inside her tunic, gently turning it over and in Mando’s direction. It was small, made of some smooth metal, depicting some leonid creature: a cat with large fangs.

“I’m not sure what it is,” Thell explained with a shrug as she turned to lean towards him. “But it’s the only thing I’ve ever had of my father’s.”

Suddenly, Mando went rigid as his eyeline found the necklace, and Thell felt her blood go cold. He leaned forward, ever so slowly.

“Mando, is something wrong?” She asked, her voice shaking. “What’s going-"

His hand suddenly shot forward, the gloved fingers gently holding the necklace out. He was close now, so close Thell could clearly hear him breathing under the helmet.

“This,” he started, and Thell swore she could hear his voice break under the mask.

“This is Mandalorian.”

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langdxn · 4 years

Note

ok ok so first of all, LOVED ‘the drug in me is you’ !!!!! but i raise you,, micHAEL having HATE (like absolutely rough, degradation, choking, everytHING ) sex bc he feels betrayed by reader but by the end of it he’s broken down and crying saying “i love you im so, so sorry i love you”

OH BABE DON’T DO THIS TO ME 🥵🥵🥵 This got a little crazy so I apologise if this is more intense than you hoped…

“You need to learn your place, little bitch,” Michael snarled, digging his fingers roughly into the flesh of your thighs and yanking them around his waist. “You don’t own this Outpost, I do.”

His Outpost desk was sharp, cool, unforgiving on your legs as he’d forcibly shoved you up onto it and shed your clothes with a flick of his wrist.

“What’re you gonna do about it, Boy Wonder?” Your words spat like venom, curled lips spewing fury as you simply watched him ravage you, skewing your insolence into a sadistic seduction. “Gonna fuck the disobedience out of me?”

“You know the routine well, I see,” he mused callously, breaking his hard gaze into your eyes as he glanced down to release his length from his dress pants. “That’s an interesting reflection on the frequency of these betrayals, Mrs Langdon.”

Your vision followed his, falling upon his flushed, erect member as he palmed lightly at his tip, leaking precum as he neared your waiting entrance. You swallowed thickly as you observed the veins of his cock pulsing wildly, impatiently, desperately.

“No you fucking don’t,” he snapped. His free hand shot to curl around your throat, applying a dangerous amount of pressure to your airways. “You don’t get to watch me fuck your brains out. You get to watch me put you back in your position at the bottom of the chain of command in here.”

“All this because I went to Gallant’s room after hours?” Your hips bucked into him as he stalled at your folds, his tip ghosting over the fresh droplets of your arousal collecting at your entrance.

“All this because you seem to have carelessly forgotten that you need me in order to survive,” Michael hissed, rearing his hips back before snapping forward and stretching your folds open in one swift motion, already nudging near your cervix as he bottomed out inside you. You cried out in pain and ecstasy in equal measure, your shrill, piercing emission only serving to drive Michael’s hips into you harder and faster.

“You haven’t fucked me in weeks, what else was I supposed to do? Turn into a bitter, twisted hag like Venable?”

“Is that all you think about? Filling this pathetic little cunt?” Michael seethed, casting a disgusted glare at you as he drew his hips back and pounded into you like he hated you. “You’re aware Gallant swings the other way, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t trying to screw Gallant, Michael,” your brows furrowed as your back arched to meet his ruthless pace. “I was trying to—to screw you!”

“Don’t lie to me, you’re such a desperate whore you’d take any dick you could find.” Michael punctuated his sentence with a rough thrust and a tighter squeeze on your oesophagus that left you spluttering, eyes popping and your head throwing back to the ceiling. “You’re lucky I needed something to cum inside tonight.”

“Your words don’t hurt me, baby,” you sassed back, knowing full well that winding him up in this state was a risky game, but his words were hurting you and your best defence was an offence. “I know you love me.”

His lips furled into a snarl as you fixed on his cold gaze, watching his irises bleed black and the whites of his eyes set alight with vibrant red veins, his signature red eyeshadow assuming the searing shade of white heat.

“That’s my problem, I guess,” he sighed sarcastically while his hips crashed into yours at a furious pace, nudging his tip against your walls so hard and so persistently, a hollow ache burned in the pit of your stomach. “I have a weakness for giving selfish little sluts what they want.”

“So give me what I want then, daddy,” you transformed your slick tone into the breathless, needy vibes he sounded so desperate to hear. “Fuck me like you own me.”

“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said ever since we got to this Outpost.” His free hand joined the other wrapped around your throat and anchored himself at your neck as he slammed against you with sheer brute force. “I do own you, princess. I own you and I can extinguish you just as easily. You’d do well to remember that before disobeying me.”

His forceful words projecting from his sallow, demonic face stirred a sadistic desire you hadn’t felt with Michael before. Sure, his devilish alternate countenance had emerged many times since you arrived at Outpost 3, but never in such a manner that he let it out on you and you alone. The rush of adrenaline, the electric bolts through your every nerve, the uncontrollable obedience that his look commanded — he was all too aware he held every atom of power over you and it was only a matter of time before you passed out from his attempts.

“Open wide,” he hummed, pressing the pad of his thumb into your chin and slowly prizing your jaw open. As you obeyed, flattening your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks as dutifully as possible, Michael pursed his lips and spat onto your tongue. A satisfied groan followed from you both, before he gave you a curt nod to signal to swallow, which you also obeyed. “Good to see you know where you stand now, kitten.”

“Perhaps now you can start fucking me properly.”

The words came out before you had a chance to consider the consequences.

As his lips parted gently with surprise, Michael’s vicious thrusts intensified and both of his thumbs pressed deeper into your windpipe, your vision slowly blurring and a kaleidoscope of colours dancing across the appearance of your blonde-haired demon fucking into you. “You’re going to regret that, little bitch.”

Jackhammering his hips to crash against yours faster than ever, you could’ve sworn you felt his cock pummelling up into your throat, his relentless pace swelling your aching folds and pounding against your sensitive spot. Clenching fervently around his length, you felt your consciousness slip from you just as your walls began to tremble and flutter around him.

“Michael, I—“

You couldn’t warn him, it was too late. Your eyes quivered shut and your last lingering feeling before you passed out — his release flooding feverishly inside you.

“Baby please…”

“… please wake up…”

“Please baby…”

Michael’s panicked sobs echoed through the void.

The cavernous ache in your core stormed back into your nerves as you slowly regained consciousness. Straining to open your eyes, you found a grey blur of Michael’s black shirted chest pressed against your cheek, his hands trembling as they held your back to keep you upright. His chest heaving frantically against you, he felt your breaths returning to you.

“Princess, are you, are you okay?”

“I…” you couldn’t find the strength to respond. You planted your hands down beside you to find you were now sat amongst the cool satin sheets of your bed, Michael’s hard wood desk no longer jabbing into your thighs.

“I, I’m so sorry,” he cried, one hand brushing over your hair, an attempt to comfort both you and him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Wh… what happened?”

“I took it too far,” he admitted, swallowing harshly as his motion thundered against your cheek. “I took it way too far.”

Pulling back from his embrace to look at him as your hooded eyes slowly peeled open, you found his terrified face with dried tear tracks gazing down at you, his eyes back to their usual piercing blue and his cheeks full of colour, full of fear.

“It’s, it’s okay,” you stuttered weakly, pressing both palms on his chest as you forced your eyes wide open. “I’m alright now.”

“I love you,” Michael sighed softly, pulling you in for a deep, lingering kiss, mumbling breathlessly against your lips. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry for what I did… and what I said.”

Michael shivered as he held you close, fingers digging into your back in the hope his embrace could bring you some warmth to regain your strength. Breathing deeply, you strained to beam a warm smile back at Michael.

“We… we should do that more often.”

#Michael Langdon #michael langdon x reader #outpost!michael #outpost!michael x reader #outpost!michael smut #michael langdon x reader smut #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagines

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years

Text

[ Tanjiro Headcanons To Fuel The Fluff/Angst Tank ]

He Is Baby™ thank you very much and i love him with my whole heart

- hi hello i would like to share my thoughts on this baby cause i love him v much

- he gives me the vibe that he would def love anything strawberry related. like strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, strawberry yogurt- the list goes ON

- he would eat them more often if they weren't so godamn expensive, and most of the time you can only find those kinds of products when in the city and he mostly travels through the woods rather than through heavily populated areas. he does get them when he can though, and usually has some stocked up when he and nezuko leave rural areas

- thats not the only fruit he likes though! hes also a huge fan of cherries but he gets those even less since they're even MORE expensive. he also very much likes mint chocolate chip icecream! something about the clash of dark chocolate and refreshing mint is just so good to him, and usually he’ll try to look for that specific flavor if theres any icecream places nearby. my basis for that?

- thankfully though he doesnt really buy things from others since he just gets most of his food from the surrounding forest. you see, tanjiro literally lived in the woodlands for most of his early life before the whole 'incident', so hes accustomed to being more of a hunter-gatherer when it comes to those sorts of things

- he knows a whole bunch of stuff about forest plants and topography for that reason specifically, and can make food out of pretty much nothing due to having to go through some rough winter times that required scavenging

- overall though hes a pretty good cook! his father and mother both liked to cook and bake and all that before they died, and, being eager to help and learn, he usually watched them when they did or asked to help with preparing the food

- he actually probably has a lot of domestic skills, now that i think about it. things like sewing up ripped clothing or repairing damaged items are almost muscle memory to him since he was raised to value what he had and not aimlessly spend his money due to his humble beginnings

- he’s actually more comfortable with simple things rather than lavish ones since thats what he grew up with. being a demon slayer means that he does get commissioned to do things sometimes or paid for it, but he usually gives most of his money to poeple who need it after spending some of what he has on more efficient and useful things like better fabric for clothes and repairs for things that he doesn't have the skill set to fix himself

- due to this humble attitude he has for things, he barely ever really treats himself to things he enjoys. he usually puts others before himself and thus forgets about his own needs, leading him to often deny taking care of himself if he deems to 'not have enough time' or 'not being important enough”

- usually forcing him to sit down and eat or at least take a moment to drink some tea can calm his nerves a ton, even if its only just for a second

- i'm pretty sure that his favorite drink is green tea (or strawberry milk), actually. its just so naturally calming and relaxing that he usually uses it as a staple for calming himself down or taking a breather from the stressful life he's lead so far

- for someone that barely takes care of himself hes awfully adamant about others taking acare of themselves. oh, you haven't slept in three days because of work? guess what you're going to sleep right now. no, dont Mention how he keeps moving even though he should be in bed because of a broken rib, your needs come first now go to sleep

- deeefinitely the mom friend type in more ways then one. its p obvious that he already takes care of Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke as good friends of his, but hes kinda adamant on taking care of them almost like they're younger than him or something. this doesnt mean that they can’t take care of themselves of course, he just kinda feels the natural instinct to protect people he values if he can (mainly due to the fear that he’ll suddenly loose them without making it clear he cares about them first but we will unpack that suitcase LATER in the list)

-for that reason i can safely say that he's probably fantastic with kids because of his gentle nature. hes just so soft and pure that children naturally feel calm around him? its weird how like a baby will literally stop crying in a city full of people just because they saw tanjiro wave and smile at them and as SOON as hes out of eyesight they start crying again. also tanjiro holding a baby? you CANNOT tell me this man wouldnt softly sing some lullaby he remembers from his childhood to a child cradled in his arms, fast asleep. and the smile he gives to the person who finds him like that is BLINDING i cannot comprehend the purity-

-the EXACT same thing goes for animals. its straight up canon that he understands (to an extent) what birds are saying when they're chirping to one another, so its probably safe to assume that he might understand a little bit of what other animals may be saying when they communicate

- yet another effect of living in the forest most of his life and being way too observant at his age :p

- when dogs bark he responds to them out of instinct, knowing what they mean. when some pig just randomly snorts at him don't be surprised when he just says "oh, thank you!" in the most earnest tone possible because he probably knows what the animal said and is responding to it honestly. answering like he's pretending to know what it means would be dishonest, and thats too out of character for the sunshine boy

-its also gotta be mentioned that tanjiro physically rejects the concept of being dishonest. i swear to god I'm not making this up- when hes lying its so easy to tell because his face is physically rejecting the concept that hes not being sincere

-this goes for pretty much anything- he cant really blatantly lie without shifting in place or making a weird expression. its no expection that when asked about his feelings that he can barely keep a straight face by saying that he's "okay"

-theres just so much pent up grief and sorrow for so many things that its hard to really say that he's "just fine" or "alright" some days. the accumulation of trauma and guilt has lead up to this constant dread boiling in the pit of his stomach that he'll fail one day, and this would've been all for nothing

-he'll die one day without his goals being met, without Nezuko being healed, without his friends safe, without so many things that he thought he could fix that will eat him up until he fixes them. he doesn't have frequent depressive episodes all that often anymore since Sakonji helped him with that (kind of, it was kind of a group effort by his other superiors, the Pillars, too with some reassurance and advice since a good portion have Been There Done That with the survivor’s guilt and the like) in terms of teaching him how to meditate more frequently and search for positive outlets for his negative feelings. he helped him accept that it was okay to feel bad about it, but he couldn't give up, no matter what. because “What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?”

-and so he doesn't. he never gives up, on anything. he refuses to give up when his friends are in danger and the odds are against him, or when hes face to face with an eldritch demon who's been alive longer than the numbers he can count. tanjiro is incredibly persistent in his efforts, big or small, and makes a conscious decision every time to not abandon what he worked for because the phrase "What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?" motivates him to be better than who he was yesterday and try his best to reach his dreams

- because of this he's a heavy believer that most people can change. i say most because I'm pretty sure he knows Muzan will never change, or some of the other terrible people in the world. he's accepted over time that he can’t help everyone, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try his hardest in figuring ot if they are truly, genuinely, capable of being better. so he's incredibly supportive of people who actually do make efforts to improve themselves because he knows how hard it is to come from such a bad situation/bad mindset and reteach good values and habits

- that doesn't mean that poeple are expempt from their punishments of course- everyone deserves the consequences of their actions to be better to know what to improve on, but he has sympathy for the poeple who's consequences stop their lives short (example, countless demons that he feels terrible for because they came from really bad situations)

-since he knows how hard it is to improve on anything- he’s very very supportive to people who do that for themselves or for others. in fact, he would go out of his way for about anyone to make their life a little better but if he sees someone struggling their way to their personal best he'll happily be a help to them in any way that they can. oh, you were training really hard today and had no success in perfecting a certain technique? its alright, you can just lay down right now while he fixes your bath water and tomorrow he'll help you out with it in any way he can. hes the best cheerleader!

-overall tanjiro is very sweet and kind, even though he has personal problems with his own demons and feeling as if he's a burden most of the time. for all this suffering, he views the prosperity of the people around him worth it and is selfless to the end of the line for those whom he cares about

[ ~Thank You For Reading!~ ]

#tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro headcanon #tanjiro headcanons #tanjiro imagine #tanjiro imagines #demon slayer #demon slayer tanjiro #demon slayer headcanon #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba #KNY #kny headcanon #kny headcanons #kny imagine #kny imagines #water breathing

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thelargefrye · 4 years

Text

E3 SHOWCASE EVENT HOSTED BY JOY.

hello and welcome to largefrye’s conference here at e3. i’m park sooyoung and i’ll be your host for this event.

today, you will be shown a great lineup of games that our team has been working on recently. we have many new one-shots and collections for everyone to enjoy.

sequel to “senses” available on daybreak collection. here’s the trailer to dangerous.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── all he brings is sorrow in his wake.

hongjoong stumbles threw the apartment door in a slight daze. all the lights but the living room lamp were off and he wonders if you had already went to bed. how weird, he thinks, you usually wait for him to come home, but he shoves that thought away in favor of getting a drink from the kitchen.

he smells another scent lingering apart from yours and his wolf immediately catches on to it. he didn’t want another wolf around you, leaving their scent in what was his home, but hongjoong could care less. he knew that you wouldn’t leave him, not after the heartache you suffered after your first meeting.

hongjoong makes his way to your shared bedroom, attempting to be quiet in case you were asleep. but when he opens the bedroom door, he is met with nothing but an empty bed.

“y/n?” he is answered with silence and he feels something in the pit of his stomach turn as he starts to look all over the apartment for you. he does find that some of your things are missing. then that lingering scent came crashing on his senses and he felt a sudden rage course through him.

you left with wooyoung. he took you from him. you’re his mate, not wooyoung’s. his jaw is clenched, hard, and he feels ten times more sober than when he walked into the apartment. wooyoung had no right of taking you from him.

turning, hongjoong immediately makes his way towards the front door before slamming it behind him as he makes his way towards wooyoung’s place.

coming november 2020.

introduced originally as “project psycho” back in march. a new installment in the polyteez franchise, desire.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── after meeting the eight men in the club, you soon become entangled in their world. whether you like it or not.

“what happened?” you gasped in shock as you saw yeosang enter the house basically carrying san on his back. the latter of the two all beaten and bloodied.

yeosang carried san over and dropped him onto the nearest couch. san let out a groan as he opened his eyes to see you leaning over him.

“i must be in heaven because there’s no way hell would allow me to see my beautiful y/n,” san groans as he reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“you’re not dead, you overdramatic asshole. at least not yet,” yeosang spits out with a glare and tries his best to fix his now slightly dirty suit.

“what happened, sanggie?” you ask turning to the slightly older male with a concerned look, however yeosang doesn’t appear to be all that worried about what happened to him and san.

“the meeting was a trap,” yeosang says before he leaves and comes back with a first aid kit.

you help san sit up as you take off his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt and move it to the side to look at his wounds.

“a trap? like a set up?” you ask and both males nod. san lets out a hiss when your hand gently touches one of his wounds.

“ah, baby, be carefully. i’m fragile.” yeosang lets out a snort from behind you. you feel the couch dip just slightly from behind as yeosang sits down and starts to watch as you treat san’s wounds.

“i’m sorry that happened, loves. is there anything i can do to help?”

“not unless you know where bangtan’s base is,” yeosang says.

“bangtan?” you mumble, the name sounds familiar but you can’t quite remember from where. “why does that sound familiar?”

“maybe you heard us talking about them in the past,” san suggest, but you know that’s not it. you shake your head before putting a hand to your head in a thinking pose as you try to remember.

“oh i know!” you quickly get up and run up to your room digging through your draw before pulling out the small business card and running back downstairs where you had left the two males. “here,” you say handing the business card to yeosang who takes it and starts to look at it as you go back to treating san.

“w-what? how did you get this?”

“you remember when i went out with my friends a few weeks ago to that fancy restaurant?” both males nod, “well this guy came up to me and started talking to me, and before i left he gave me this. apparently he owned the restaurant.”

“oh, my sweet angel!” san says bringing you down to crash his lips on his making you laugh and smile into the kiss.

“does this mean i get to help you guys?” you ask, hopefully.

“maybe,” yeosang says as he looks down at the card his hand. they might actually have a chance to win against bangtan for once.

coming november 2020.

our next game is our first installment into a new series called “love montage.” the first game “blue ocean” is set around three main characters, hongjoong, y/n, and seonghwa. you take the role as each of those characters and decide whether they end up together or apart.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── seonghwa is happy with his life. he just moved into his own apartment, he’s going strong in his two year relationship with his girlfriend, and he’s passing all his classes. nothing could be better for him. well, that is until he catches a glimpse of what actual happiness and love is in the form of his two neighbors.

or a story about seonghwa questioning if he is truly happy with his life, and you and hongjoong are there to help answer those questions.

seonghwa rest his head in your lap, looking up at you lazily as you run a hand through his newly dyed hair. hongjoong is spread out beside you both with a smile on his as he looks at you both fondly. his brightly and newly dyed blue hair a stark contrast to the cream bedsheets.

“thanks for helping me dye my hair,” seonghwa says making you smile down at him. hongjoong reaches over for his hand and brings it up to his lips to kiss the older male’s knuckles before he holds his hand against his chest.

“no need to thank us, love. y/n has helped me dye my hair so many times that it must be nice to do someone else’s for a change,” hongjoong teases making you laugh at your boyfriend.

“your black hair will be missed, but this new color is so nice and pretty! it really fits you, hwa!” you say with a smile.

“why don’t you play with my hair like that?” hongjoong pouts as he playfully smacks your leg.

“oh hush, you big baby. i play with your hair all the time,” you reply as you return the playfully smack, but to his chest as that was closet thing you could reach.

seonghwa can’t help but smile and laugh at you and hongjoong and goes to sit up. you watch him with curious eyes as he leans in to kiss you. you hum into the kiss and before you can depend it, seonghwa pulls away. you pout before watching as seonghwa leans over hongjoong and kisses the male as well.

"i love you both so much,” he says after he pulled away from hongjoong, who sat up beside you.

“we love you, too, hwa,” hongjoong says as he runs a hand through the older’s hair. the both of them smiling at each other before turning to you, who was happily watching the both of them.

“i can tell.”

coming november 2020.

“project satire” is still in the early stages of development. anything seen is subject to change and does not fully represent the final project.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

"alright, guys, we have to come up with an idea for this trailer,” smalls says standing at the end of the makeshift conference table.

“what trailer?” mingi ask, completely caught off guard by what smalls had just said.

“our trailer. for our new game we’re working on,” she explains further.

“which one? you have like thirty?” san says causing smalls to just stare at him.

“san, go stand in the corner.”

“but i don’t want to stand in the corner.”

“go stand in the corner!” san only grumbled as he stood up from his chair and walked over to one of the few corners in the room. clapping her hands together, smalls gathers everyone’s attention once more. “alright, so let’s get back on track. ideas, anyone got anything?”

“what game is this for?” yeosang asked.

“project satire.”

“why is it called project satire?” yunho asked confused as to why it was still being called the project name.

“because i don’t have an actual name for it yet, so its project satire until further notice,” smalls explains.

“wait... so project satire isn’t the final name?”

“no, mingi, project satire is not the final name. can we please forget the name and focus on the trailer!?”

“wait a minute,” you say causing everyone to look over at you. “does this mean i have to wear a sundress?”

“correction, sundresses,” smalls says putting emphasis on the ‘es’ of the word.

“hey smalls,” seonghwa begins looking directly into the camera before turning to look at the young woman, “why is there a camera in here?”

“what?” she says, before looking over at the camera that had been filming them the entire time, “oh right. i forgot that this meeting was suppose to be the trailer.”

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── your sister and two best friends fake a bunch of love letters and send them to all the guys you had past crushes on in an attempt to help you finally gain a love life and to let you experience what little time of high school you have left.

“y/n...” jiah’s voice trails off as she and gahyeon watched you sit at your desk from your bed. chaeyoung was standing in the doorway as they all waited for you to say – or do – anything.

“y/n look, we didn’t mean for this all to happen. we just... you had been looking so depressed lately and we thought that maybe if you got out and talked to more people... that maybe it would cheer you up.”

“i know,” is all you said still refusing to look at any of them. you know they were just trying to help you get out there more, but with everything that happened with san... you just wanted to be left alone.

you just wanted to be left alone for the rest of eternity. you feel so embarrassed knowing that san is probably with some of the other guys, laughing at how stupid you must have looked and how much of a loser you are for actually thinking he might have liked you.

“i’m a fucking clown,” you say out loud, tears welling up as you took a deep breath.

“you’re a clown! san is an asshole for playing you along like that!” gahyeon said, standing up from your bed. fist clenched as she waved in the air, probably to an imaginary san.

“sis...” chaeyoung finally speaks up after staying silent since coming home and finding you like this. “i’m sorry for causing all of this. i just tho–

“it’s okay, chae. i know you guys didn’t mean any harm,” you cut her off, finally turning to look at your two friends and sister. your eyes were slightly glassy, but you quickly blinked and wiped them away.

suddenly you all hear the doorbell ring and chaeyoung is quick to dash out of your room and run down the hall where she quietly watches her father go and open the door.

“hi, can i help you?”

“hi, um, i was wondering if y/n lived her?” your sister’s eyes widened when she catches a glimpse of the guy at the door and quickly dashes back to your room to tell you who’s at the door.

“guys, guys! you’ll never believe who’s at the door!!”

“who?” jiah and gahyeon ask in unison, now the both of them are standing up and looking at your sister curiously.

“hongjoong,” the name left your own lips before your sister who get it out and she looks at you in curiosity before realizing you are now standing up from your chair. chaeyoung turns around to see the older male standing behind her. she then notices the light pink envelope in his hand.

“hey, art buddy.”

coming november 2020.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── after running away from your old pack with your mate, seonghwa. the two of you find a new home with a new pack... and your seven remaining fated mates.

“what are you doing, yunho?” you ask with a laugh as the tall male rubs his nose against your neck. you were currently walking down the hallway to the bathroom, having just gotten up when the beta had appeared behind you and trapped you in his arms.

“you smell so good. i can’t help it,” he says before kissing your neck making you let out another laugh at how it tickled slightly.

“well you need to let me go, so i can go pee,” you said trying to nudge him away from you, but his grip only tightened.

“i don’t mind watching,” he says and you make disgusted face.

“no, ew, don’t be gross. the bathroom is for my privacy and alone time.”

“we have alone time in there together.”

“yunho i’m being serious,” you say and finally he lets go with an exaggerated sigh. “don’t sigh at me you big baby. i think wooyoung is in the kitchen so go cuddle him.”

“don’t think this is over between me and you,” he says before turning away and running down the hall and to where you presume wooyoung is in the kitchen.

walking the rest of the way to the bathroom you open the door and you’re surprised to see jongho already inside.

“oh, i’m sorry jongho i didn’t know you where in here,” you say, feeling a little flustered at walking in on him.

“it’s fine. i’m done anyway,” he says and you step aside in order to let him out. when you walk into the bathroom, you’re about to close the door when jongho stops you and steps back into the bathroom.

“what’s wrong?” jongho doesn’t answer but instead pulls you to him as he shoves his face into your neck. “j-jongho! what are you doing?”

“you smell really good.”

“oh, not you too. what is wrong with you guys?” you let out a sigh before pushing jongho away. the youngest pouts before pulling you to him one last time to kiss before running away leaving you confused.

you roll your eyes before closing the door and you manage to get halfway through your morning routine before a knock sounds on the door. you open it, toothbrush hanging out of your, to be greeted by the sight of seonghwa.

“morning, love,” he says stepping inside the bathroom and closing the door behind him. you turn on the water in the sink as a way to drown out the awkward sound of him peeing.

“why couldn’t you use the other bathroom? you know the bathroom is my alone time,” you whine, hitting his arm as you step aside to let him use the sink.

seonghwa only laughs at you before leaning down and kissing your cheek. his face lingers close to yours before he moves down to bury his face in your neck like yunho and jongho had did previously.

“why do you smell so good?” he asks, pressing his body up against yours as a way to feel closer to you.

“i don’t know, but yunho and jongho did the exact same thing,” you say and you watch seonghwa lift his head up thanks to the mirror in front of you.

“they did?” you nod and you can tell he’s thinking due to the expression on his face. “hm, is your heat starting soon?”

“i don’t think so.”

“well i guess we should just be carefully for the next few days,” he says and you nod your head before finishing brushing your teeth and kissing seonghwa on his the cheek before leaving the bathroom and heading down stairs.

coming november 2020.

“the love that kills you inside” is a new game in an upcoming three part series, star hero.

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

── you and yeosang were nothing more than a business relationship. he was your group’s manager, and you were one of his idols he had to manage, but now after a scandal the two of you are brought closer together.

“are you dating yeosang-oppa?” luna’s voice is full of concern as her and the other two girls look at you. you had just gotten back from spending time with the older man when you saw the three of them sitting on the couch, waiting for you.

“um... maybe,” you answer, your stomach starts to sink at the thought of what could happen to you both if they told the ceo.

“y/n... do you realize what could happen if this kind of news got out?” luna asked and you slowly nodded, head dropping to look at your feet.

“i... i’m sorry, guys. my feelings... i couldn’t stop them. he really helped me after everything that happened with soojin,” you explained, you felt your palms start to sweat and your heart was racing even faster than when you confessed to yeosang. “me and him, we know the risk and we’re being careful.”

“guys, i haven’t seen y/n this happy in a long time. maybe her and yeosang-oppa should date,” dia spoke up and you looked up at her in surprise. you are meet with her kind gaze and you feel yourself tear up.

“do you love him?” taehee asks and you nod your head without a second thought. “i thought so. i’ve been noticing the lingering gazes you give each other.

“how long have you guys been going out?” luna asks with a tilt of her head.

“four months,” you say with a shy smile thinking about all the times you’ve spent with yeosang.

“well i guess you have four months of catching us up on what your relationship has been like,” she replies with her big sister smile that she always gives you. you nod your head as you rush over to join them on the couch as you begin to tell them everything about your relationship.

coming november 2020.

“project gxxd boy” is still in the early stages of development. anything seen is subject to change and does not fully represent the final project

── the following you are about to see is a game still in the early stages of development. everything is subject to change.

"do you miss them?” yeosang’s voice is quiet as the two of you lay next to each other on his bed. the random movie flashing on the tv being forgotten and now only acting as a source of light for you both.

“i don’t know. at the time when i was with them, i was so in love with both of them, but i was so lonely. yewon got both mingi and mine’s attention and she would always get upset if either of us acknowledged the other. i thought it was normal because i had never been in a poly relationship before and i figured that since she was the reason for our relationship, then she got the most attention.”

“but that isn’t how a relationship works. you and mingi ended up connecting only when she wasn’t there, right?”

“yeah... i thought maybe he was actually interested in me and loved me like i loved him, but that wasn’t it. he just wanted someone to occupy him while yewon was gone. i think walking in on them after being stood up by him made me finally realize how unhealthy the relationship was for me, no matter how much i loved them.”

yeosang turns on his side in order to look at you. you turned your head to look at him, curious as to why he changed positions.

“i’m glad you left them. they don’t deserve you, wooyoung would always tell me how he hated the relationship you were and how unfair it was for you,” he says making you smile gratefully at him.

“thanks yeosang.”

and that has been largefrye at e3, i would like to thank everyone for watching and please look forward to all these amazing games coming in the future!

#ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #lfe3 !#largefrye conference !#in development !#largefrye inc property !

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

A Good Dog Doesn’t Bark

[yet another Foster AU for SIX, if there weren’t enough already]

(Read Anne As Courtney!Anne)

Word count: 4004

TW: Child abuse

———————

Jane couldn’t understand the idea of fostering.

“I mean, yes, it’s a good thing to do,” She had said over tea. “But wouldn’t you rather have a baby come from your body? You just won’t have the same connection with a foster child...”

Anne and Aragon gave her an unamused look. She continued her mantra with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Plus!” She went on. “You may have to give them up! What if they’re terrible? Or you can’t raise them? Or if their parents want them back? Are you ready to deal with that guilt?” She stirred her tea calmly. “I’m just saying that maybe you two should just try for a moment first.”

“We’re lesbians, Jane.” Aragon deadpanned.

“I meant sperm implants.” Jane specified, slightly ruffled. “That’s what I did to have Kat!”

Aragon wrinkled her nose at the through. Anne snorted.

“No way.” They both said.

“Your loss.” Jane shrugged.

Despite their friend’s very helpful commentary, Anne and Aragon went on with their idea of fostering and went to an adoption fair hosted by the county foster program. There, they met a young eleven year old girl with gnarled blonde-brown hair, storm grey eyes, and a knack for drawing. Instantly, they both fell in love with her shyness and lamb-like appearance.

They had to have her.

“Kinda feels like we’re picking a puppy from a kennel,” Aragon admitted as Anne was driving them both to the house where they would retrieve their new daughter.

Anne has just smiled at her comfortingly, but even she had to admit it kind of did feel like that. Especially when they eventually got to their soon-to-be-daughter’s current placement.

“No, no, no, NO!!” A deep, rough voice roared. “You absolute IDIOT! You would have been dead! Do it again!”

That’s the first thing they heard when she stepped out of the car, then a series of grass-padded footsteps, the clanging of metal, and then a cacophony of crashes and rattles.

“Stop holding back!” The voice snapped. “Where’s that little monster I saw when I first got you?”

“I-I don’t know!” A second voice squeaked, similar to their girl’s. “Dormant? Sleeping? Hibernating? I learned that bears often hibernate, so if it’s supposed to be a bear— OW!!!” There was a howl of pain. “You said hair pulling was cheating!”

“I’m your guardian and teacher. Nothing I do is cheating! Now do it again or so help me—”

“Okay! Okay!”

There was another scampering or footsteps, metal hitting against metal, the strain and creak of ropes, and subtle harsh breaths and whimpers.

“There,” The younger voice panted. “Was that-” A squeal of pain, followed by a heavy thud up against what was presumably the fence. “Owww...! I-I wasn’t—” Another noise, this one the horrible sound of something whipping down against a skull. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop! I’m not ready!”

“USELESS!” The older voice bellowed. “Nobody is going to wait for you in a fight! SO STOP WHINING AND FIGHT BACK!!”

It was madness. Pure madness. And Aragon and Anne couldn’t just stand there and listen to it anymore.

They stormed through the backyard gate and stared in horror at the obstacle course set before them- thick nylon ropes hanging from old, gnarled trees overgrown around the yard; a steep, splintered wooden ramp; large, heavy tires set up in rows; deep trenches of muddy water; even what looked to be a board full of upturned nails placed on the ground. Most of the grass was dead and seemed to be stained a permanent shade of red. The worst thing, however, was the twisted older woman standing above a shuddering child with a bamboo pole in her hands. When she noticed the couple goggling at her, she didn’t look horrified to be caught, rather just annoyed. She prodded the child at her feet roughly in the shoulder.

“Get up.” She spat, then finally turned to address the visitors. “What?”

“What the fuck,” Aragon said first. “What the fuck is wrong with—”

Anne covered her mouth, but her wife struggled and even bit her in her attempt to keep scolding. The woman with the pole looks very amused.

“We’re here to get Joan.” Anne said, still attempting to wrangle up Aragon. “Umm... What is this place and, yes, what is going on?”

The woman raised her nose, examining the two of them.

“This is the Puppy Mill.” She said, and those words sent snarls of ice cold horror curling through Aragon and Anne’s stomachs. “Where the...unwanted children go. Or are born. I get a lot of knocked up teenagers.”

She cast a disgusted look over to a young pregnant girl sitting on the porch. The girl glared right back, and that’s when Anne and Aragon realized that they were surrounded by kids. Kids ranging from ages five to seventeen it seemed, either sitting on the roof or in trees or on the porch or watching from the windows inside. They were all dressed in rags, had their hair done in tangled messes, looked absolutely filthy, and had collars fastened around their necks. It made Anne want to cry and Aragon want to rampage.

“What the fuck,” Aragon muttered again.

“Who did you say you wanted again?” The woman asked. “My name is simply Wolf, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”

“Joan.” Anne repeated, trying to keep back a tremble in her voice. The smell of blood, piss, and sweat were swarming her senses.

“Joan...” Wolf looked around the backyard, tapping her chin. “Don’t think I have a Joan.”

“That would be me,” Gurgled the child at her feet. Wolf scowled down at her. Aragon and Anne realized she, too, had a thick, metal collar latched around her neck.

A shock collar.

“Oh. Right.” Wolf oozed. “I thought I told you to get up, Pit Bull.”

“Pit Bull?” Anne echoed.

“We don’t use real names here. For example, the six year old that just took your wallet without you knowing is Yorkie.”

“What?!” Anne whirled around to find that her wallet was, in fact, missing from her back pocket and now resided in the greedy little hands of a dirty, mud-smelling six year old boy with amber eyes. He had been going through it with his grimy fingers up until he was caught and then actually hunched over, bared his stubby teeth, and growled like a dog. Wolf laughed loudly.

“That’s my pup!” She cheered. She held out her hand and Yorkie immediately scampered over, pressing his head into it eagerly. She stroked his dusty hair gently. “Alright, now give this lady back her things. You’ll be rewarded for your thievery after this.”

Yorkie beamed. He gave Anne back her wallet and stuck out his tongue at her before skittering away to probably brag to his friends about what he had done.

“See. That’s what you should be like.” Wolf said to Joan, prodding her in the cheek with the end of her pole. “Why did you tell them your name? You know why don’t use those.”

“I’m sorry,” Joan whispered. She failed at getting up, still reeling from when she had been hit on the head, and just slumped to the ground in a woeful puddle, moaning pitifully.

“Why can’t she use her name?” Aragon hissed.

“And why do you call her Pit Bull?” Anne added.

“Because,” Wolf smirked wickedly with all her teeth. “Pit Bulls are killers, just like this little one.”

Black ice shot through Aragon and Anne’s veins. Darkness seemed to be rushing into their vision, sucking all their breath away. It was like the entire atmosphere was pressing down on them.

“What?” Anne whispered.

“You’re lying!” Aragon snarled.

“Tell that to the corpses of her parents she beat to death,” Wolf said smoothly. “She’s a little monster. My perfect little monster. If she can just get her training drills down.” She shot Joan a glare. “But she isn’t for sale. Not that you would want such a creature after hearing what it’s done.”

“No,” Anne shook her head. “We’re taking her. We have forms.”

Aragon fished them out of her purse and thrust them into Wolf’s hands. Wolf sighed, rolled her eyes, but scanned over the documents. She occasionally glances at Joan and then the couple as she was reading.

“Hm.” She eventually said. “I suppose you are right.” She suddenly snapped her head downward and jabbed the end of the pole in between Joan’s shoulder blades. It made Aragon jolt forward slightly, hands outstretched and twitching. She gave the woman an entertained look, then turned her attention back to the child on the ground. “Get up, beast. Go gather your things. You’re out of here.”

“B-but—” Joan tried to protest.

“NOW!”

Wolf grabbed Joan by the collar and yanked her to her feet, then shoved her roughly to the back door. The girl uselessly keeled over into the grass immediately, but managed to scramble inside.

“Worthless,” Wolf hissed under her breath.

“We can call the police.” Aragon warned dangerously. Her protectiveness for the child seemed to have only increased, despite the alleged news of murder.

“You can try.” Wolf said. “But it won’t do you any good. Nothing ever happens.”

“You’re hurting these children!” Aragon cried.

Laughter rang out through the entire backyard- the children were laughing.

“Awww, the rich lady thinks we have it bad!” One boy in a tree chortled.

“Probably because she’s had everything handed to her on a silver platter!” Another chimed in.

“Ohhh, look at me! I have money and can pay my mortgage! I need to barge into everyone’s lives and think I have to fix it!” A third mocked, causing a roar of giggles. Aragon suddenly felt a lot less pity for all these kids except her girl.

“She's acting this way because Pit Bull is a weak little bitch,” Said the pregnant girl on the porch.

“Yeah!” A seven year old joined in. “Pit Bull is making us look bad!”

It was that moment that Joan came back outside holding a small bag full of her belongings. She cowered under the looks she got and scampered over to the three adults. Her shoulders are hunched around her neck and she’s trembling, Anne and Aragon realize.

“Traitor!” A kid on a rickety tree branch shouted.

“Don’t come back here!” Another yelled.

“We don’t want you!” A third joined in.

“And neither do they!” The second added. “They’re just pitying you, Pittie! But they’ll throw you away soon!”

“Try not to kill them, too!” Bellowed a cruel fourth kid.

By that time, Joan was clearly fighting off a wave of tears.

“We’re leaving now.” Aragon snarled, glaring at Wolf and then all the children in the backyard. “God save you.”

Screeches of laughter filled the yard as the couple and their new foster daughter walked to the gate. They could hear the kids mocking Aragon’s words as they went, and Aragon somehow managed to keep from storming back over and pummeling all of them.

“Are you okay?” Anne asked Joan once they got to the car.

Joan looked down at her feet. “Yeah...”

Anne and Aragon exchanged worried looks, but didn’t try to prod. They just helped Joan into the car and began to return home.

The drive smelled like blood.

———

Joan was asleep when they got to the house—or maybe she was just unconscious. Anne and Aragon didn’t know. And they were not sure if they wanted to.

Anne grabbed the bag while Aragon carefully scooped up the child, who was alarmingly light. She was absolutely tiny too, even for an eleven year old. That was exactly why she barked at her wife to call her doctor friend to come do check a check up on the girl.

“They’re just the kind of injuries you would expect from an experience like this,” Maggie was saying as she returned from the child’s bedroom, removing the stethoscope from around her neck in a far too professional manner for what Aragon or Anne was used to. “Even though I’m not technically working right now, I still have to follow confidentiality agreements, so I can’t tell you the extent of her injuries, but she’s had a rough time. From what I’ve seen, it appears as though she was thrown into a wall and hit her head more than once; she’s got a few bruises, a bad ankle, and a couple of nasty broken ribs.” She concluded, setting down her medical kit on the coffee table. “All-in-all, she’s in pretty bad shape, but nothing seems critical. Speaking optimistically, she ought to make a full recovery."

The reaction to his proclamation was stunned silence as Anne and Aragon stared at her in disbelief. She looked back in confusion.

“What?”

“There is no way that's all that happened to her!” Aragon finally exclaimed explosively, halting her agitated pacing by the flat’s window. “When we went to her placement she had been hit in the head with a pole, I’m pretty sure there was blood everywhere, there was absolutely no hygiene there so it’s peak conditions for infections, and all you have to give me is a few bruises? Mother Mary above, you are a doctor, aren’t you? Why don't you just go fix her up and—”

“Training to be a doctor.” Anne cut in quietly, but her wife didn’t hear her.

“And we are her PARENTS now! We deserve to know what’s wrong with—”

“I think what Catalina is trying to say,” Anne finally took charge, and Maggie shot her a grateful look. “Is that you’re withholding important information from us, Mags, because a girl with the home we saw must have sustained much worse injuries than you’re explaining. So please, enlighten us.”

Aragon grumbled to herself before tossing herself down on the couch and downing an entire glass of vodka in one go.

Maggie, nervous, shuffles her feet and then sighed in defeat. She sat down on the arm of the couch.

“Alright, so basically, beside the bruises, cuts, sprained ankle, and bumps on the head, you’re looking at a girl who’s probably been severely abused throughout her entire life.” She said reluctantly, but bluntly, meeting eyes seriously with each of them in turn. “Not just physically, either. I really— I shouldn't be telling you any of this; legally I can’t. All I can say is that what happened to her today wasn’t the first time. It’ll take about a month and a half for all of her external injuries to heal completely, but with physical evidence of her history...the emotional toll is going to be huge.”

Anne set a hand on Aragon’s shoulder when she sensed her wife was getting worked up, but Aragon still got herself to her feet and marched to Joan’s new room. Maggie watched her good helplessly, then turned back to Anne.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. “That I can’t be more helpful. She‘s right— I’m a doctor. I should be—”

“Shh,” Anne took one of her friend’s hands and rubbed the knuckles comfortingly. “It’s alright. You did more than enough.”

Maggie smiled at her, then got up and began to gather her things. She left some amoxicillin, antiseptic, extra bandages and gauze on the table.

“Just in case.” She said.

“Do you just carry this stuff around?” Anne asked, walking over and picking up the amoxicillin.

Maggie giggled. “Never know when you might need some strong painkillers!” She waved. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Will do,” Anne nodded. “Thank you!”

With that, Maggie is gone. Anne can now hear Aragon cooing in the extra bedroom, so she takes the amoxicillin and a glass of water, and then walks over to the room. Inside, she finds her wife perched on the edge of the bed, stroking Joan’s hair, who is awake, but dazed.

“You took me away,” Joan whispered.

“That’s right.” Aragon said softly. “You’re safe now.”

Joan’s pale face crumbled. “Don’t make me go back there. Please. Please, don’t wanna go back...!”

Anne’s heart broke as she watched this. Aragon seemed to feel the same thing, because she wrapped Joan in her arms and pulled the tiny child into a tender embrace. The little girl immediately clung back, crying into the woman’s chest.

“We’ll never send you back.” Aragon promised her. “You’re our girl now. Our daughter.”

“That’s right,” Anne nodded, walking over. “We’ll take care of you, Joan.”

Joan looked up at them, grey eyes sparkling with tears. Anne and Aragon both reach out to wipe away the streams on each cheek.

“Thank you,” She whispered. She rested her head back on Aragon’s chest, taking steady breaths.

“Hey,” Anne said. “I know! Why don’t I go run you a nice hot bath while Catalina makes us some dinner? Then we can watch a movie! Our first family movie!”

Joan actually smiled, and it was such a beautiful thing to see.

“We never got to take hot baths,” She whispered. “Or watch movies, unless we were really, really good.” She looked up at the two women. “Can I really do that?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Aragon said. “This is your home now.”

Joan gave another small, but giddy smile and hid her face in Aragon’s chest to hide her blush. Anne ruffled her hair affectionately and then got up to go run a bath in the bathroom connected to the room. Aragon continued to rock Joan in her arms until the water was ready.

—

The room smelled like apples. Not the fresh, crisp kind from the ageing trees in the orchard, but the sweet, faintly chemical scent of apple flavored products. It’s the scent of bath bombs and body wash and, in this case, no tears baby shampoo.

Something Pit Bull had never smelled before.

No-

Not Pit Bull.

She wasn’t-

She was-

She wasn’t-

She was-

She didn’t know who she was anymore.

She splayed her hands open and stared down at them, remembering the way hot, slick blood slid between her fingers. Remembered the chill of the fire stoker’s metal and the smoothness of the lamp’s body. Remembered the way they cradled her brother’s head, which was wrung backwards, neck snapped like a baby bird’s. Remembered how they clawed at His face when he tried to pin her down and remove her clothes.

His face. Him. Her daddy.

And her mummy had watched, face blank, not caring about her husband’s choice to punish their daughter. But she did care when their pathetic child reached back, grabbed a nearby screwdriver daddy had been using earlier that day, and drove it deep into daddy’s eyeball.

Those hands travel up and delicately touch the metal collar fastened tightly around her neck. Her name is engraved on the front- “Pit Bull.”

That’s her name. Not Joan. Who is Joan?

Joan was dead.

Pit Bull desperately roused herself from her reverie when she felt the lashing tongue of the belt across her shoulders and back, the sting of glass edging itself sneakily into her skin. She could see daddy again, his daunting figure towering over her seven-year-old self like some sort of terrifying giant.

Her head snapped up and she lost her will to panic when she noticed something. She was looking in a mirror.

She had not seen her reflection in a long time, since Wolf didn’t like anyone becoming too vain, so she would breaks all the mirrors or cover them up. Now, gazing at her petrified eyes, shrunken lips, and bruised cheek and jawbones, she was shocked by her defeated appearance. Her shape had held out well—she had lost more weight than she had imagined, but at least her her thick, blonde-burnished hair- brown creeping back in at the roots- seemed to be preserved. However, the expression in her own eyes frightened her. They were so blank, so dead—what had happened to her?

Her musing was interrupted by the low growl of her stomach. She needed food, badly. But where could she find some? This was those ladies’ apartment- ladies who were, in all likelihood, going to punish her severely if she took anything that was offered to her. She was used to the punishment—that was the way it was; she wasn't supposed to exist. She wasn't worthy of being alive, so it was natural that she should suffer some sort of consequence for wasting useful air. But she was hungry, and she wanted to at least choke a small portion of food down before the abuse began again. Even if the two women were nice, she couldn’t trust them. She couldn’t believe she let one of them hold her. She even cried in front of them!

She wouldn't dare to ask for any; that would only ensure further deprivation. Wolf’s words, not so long ago spoken, echoed through her head—if you ask, the answer is no.

It wasn't that she particularly enjoyed living to meet the brutal woman’s standards. It was only that she had been forced to learn in order to survive, and even now, after being allegedly set free, her mind and body still clung to that way of living. How could it not? It wasn't as though she had ever known any differently.

She would wait until they came to her, and then, hopefully while they were distracted, she would eat as much as possible before the beating came. She only hoped that it would not be too painful; she didn't want to throw it back up.

Pit Bull eventually peeled off her clothing and grimaced at her body’s state- tight blemishes decorating her body from her thighs to her neck, mottling her pale skin various sickly shades of black and navy and violet and mauve. Her collarbone was bruised all across, while fingerprints showed clearly around the tendons in her neck. Limitless scars in varying degrees of recovery were scattered like pine needles across the expanse of her arms, shoulders, wrists, back, and thighs. Angry red and deep blue marks mar the expanse of her pale back.

Wolf so badly wanted to make her the monster she was believed to be. And looking at how maimed she was, she was starting to believe that she truly was a creature of nightmares.

———

After an hour of being in the bathroom, Joan eventually wandered out in the dining room, bleary-eyed and hair dripping. Aragon smiled warmly at her from the kitchen and Anne went over to greet her.

“Have a nice bath, darling?” She asked the little girl, who blushed shyly at the pet name.

“Yes ma’am.” Joan whispered, keeping her head dipped low.

“We’re having lasagna.” Aragon told her. “Do you like lasagna?”

“I’ve never had it before,” Joan admitted. “Well- Maybe once. A long time ago.”

Anger flashed in Aragon’s eyes, and Joan flinched away. Anne set a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Wanna meet our cat?”

Joan’s eyes lit up. “You have a cat?”

Anne nodded and led her over to a fluffy white and brown ragamuffin sleeping on the couch. Its ears twitched and blinked big blue eyes at them when they approached.

“This is Speed Demon.” Anne said proudly. Joan giggled at the name, making her heart swell with even more love for this little one.

“He’s so pretty!” Joan exclaimed. She gently pet the cat, who immediately pounced on her hand. She laughed again.

“He’s evil.” Anne grinned.

“I like him,” Joan said. “Can he watch the movie with us?”

“Of course!” Anne said. She continued to watch the child play with Speed Demon until she abruptly stopped and touched the collar around her neck. “Joan? Sweetie?”

Joan turned to her. “Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take it off.” Joan whispered this time. “My collar. Take it off. Please.”

Anne nodded. Carefully, she reached out and unlocked the metal collar around the girl’s neck. She set it to the side and then looked back at Joan.

The real Joan.

This entire time, Pit Bull had been wearing the girl’s skin like a coat, but now with the collar removed, Anne could see that Joan was free.

Free.

Her Joan.

Her daughter.

#foster au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #joan on the keys #maggie on the guitar #katherine howard #tw: child abuse #aralyn #aragon x boleyn

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tory-ben-hi-shelton · 3 years

Text

my favourite quotes from virals

The back-ass of Charleston. It's not so bad, if you aren't prone to loneliness. Which I am, but whatever. I've come to appreciate the legroom.

Kit's still not over the shock. I see it on his face every now and then. He'll wake up from a nap, or come up for air after a long stretch of work and literally jump when he notices me. That's my daughter. I have a daughter who is fourteen and lives with me. I am her father. Same shock for me, Pops. I'm working through it, too.

Kit and I attended service once. Took me ten seconds to see he'd never been there before. We made no second appearance. I hear the Big Guy's pretty understanding. I hope so.

I saw through his macho act. He was afraid I'd hurt him, but couldn't let on. Good. Be nervous, wuss.

"Well done, genius squad," I said. "I'm impressed."

Parallel tough guy nods. Man fix boat! Man be strong!

"What now?" I asked, hoping to divert the two from actually beating their chests.

"Monkeys are always funny. You pretty much can't go wrong with a monkey, right? Well, unless that monkey wants you dead or does needle drugs or something. Then it's a wrong, and a bad monkey."

"You did break that ATV." Ben, deadpanned.

"Right." Shelton's eyes rolled. "Shelton broke it. Not Ben and Shelton, because Ben is better at hiding in the woods. So only Shelton." He cuffed Ben's shoulder. "By the way, you're welcome, Blue." "I said I owe you one."

Head ass, if you ask me. That's where he kept his, most of the time.

Hi was busy explaining to Ben how many punches he'd absorbed before body-slamming the primate gang leader. His audience looked dubious.

"Good idea, finding a proper gown." Typical Hi sarcasm. "The Prom Queen has to look sharp. Vera Wang, perhaps? Or maybe something in Lauren Conrad?"

"Thanks," I responded dryly. "You'll still be my date right? Or will you have a playoff game that night? I'll understand; we need our star quarterback on the field."

"I'll let you know." Hi replied breezily. "I may be dining with Kristin Stewart. Or Bill Compton. Some vampire, I'm not sure which."

Then Ben and Shelton said they'd think about it. Following an impressive string of profanities, Hi consented to sleep on it.

"You're beginning to attract some real whack-jobs," Hi said when the two were out of earshot...

"Bro?" I teased.

"He caught me off guard." A touch defensive.

"Then we do it old school." Shelton flexed one twig arm. "Manpower!"

Hi raised a hand.

"Yes?"

"This sucks."

"Got it. Dig."

Shelton's response was less manly. Spotting the gruesome discovery, he yelled, "Grave, grave!" and scrambled from the pit. Hiram took one look and promptly upchucked.

"Don't be babies," I said. "Sometimes you have to touch the bones."

Ben sat beside me. Kit has remained on Loggerhead and Tom was driving the boat, so we were alone. For now. A bit of luck on the a day having none.

Embarrassed, I smoothed down corkscrew curls gone wild.

"Stop primping, Miss America." "Maybe you should start," joked Shelton.

Hi was top left, wearing Chuck Norris PJ's buttoned to his chin.

Simple. To the point. Ben Blue in a nutshell.

No bells, alarms, or whistles. Big break for the felon squad.

"Oh man, we're the worst burglars ever!" Shelton laid on the floor, defeated by the roller coaster ride of the last few days. "Forget it. I give up!" Ben popped Shelton on the head, conveying his opinion of surrender.

We pumped on. A shame no one recorded our record sprint times. Personal bests were undoubtedly set.

"Hiram, wake up man!" Shelton slapped Hi's cheeks, then rubbed his arms. Not exactly Web MD stuff. I gently eased Shelton back.

"That's Ben," Jason said. "He's the best. Bit of a talker, though." Ben glowered. I jumped in to diffuse. "This is my good friend Ben Blue."

I told Ben about my fainting spell and Hi's discomfort. He stepped back and covered his mouth with one hand. "I'll keep my distance. I've got enough problems."

"Thanks. Your sympathy is underwhelming."

"She's (Whitney) not that bad, right?"

"She's not trying to train you like a dancing bear."

"Ha!" Kit snorted. "Shows how much you know."

"Did you guys like the chicken?" I asked. "Mine was a bit dry." Dead silence. Then nervous laughter rose around me. It was music to my bruised ears.

"No biggie. Just breaking into Karsten's office and searching his files."

"Pfff." Ben pooched air through his lips. "I thought you meant something dangerous."

"If the old goat's still here, we're toast." Ben, always the optimist.

"Holy buckets," Shelton whispered. "Haul ass!"

"Meaning?" Ben asked.

"Neuro-anatomy is very complicated." Dismissive.

"So am I."

Recognizing the menace in Ben's voice, Karsten paused to organize his thoughts.

I was about to speak when I heard movement, a bark, then, "Oof."

"Coop votes to go right, too," Hi said. "At least, I think that's why he knocked me over."

And spotted Hi, jacket inside out, sneaking back up the steps. Frick.

"Hold it!"

Hi straightened, slowly turned, and trudged down to my bench.

"Oh, hey." Feigned nonchalance. "Didn't see you there."

"We're going to hell for this," I hissed. "What if Great-Auntie Syl blows our cover?"

"She's got dementia," Hi whispered. "She won't know the difference."

"That's horrible."

"People in these places love to have visitors. Even from fake relatives."

"Like I said. To hell"

"When did they build this monster?"

"1876." Shelton had a book on Carolina lighthouses. Of course.

Ben glanced at my scum covered arms. "Does it have a sink? A hose?"

Ha ha

"Perfect," I said. "Lead the way."

"Not a chance," said Shelton.

"Clean up," said Hi.

"Now," said Ben. "We'll wait." I stuck out my tongue but hurried home to scrub up.

My dirt-free attire got a round of applause. Ben whistled.

"Much better," Shelton proclaimed.

"I don't know." Hi pooched out just lips. "The avian excrement added a certain je ne sais quoi."

"Very funny," I said.

"Why would I not like that?" I asked.

"I wasn't finished." Shelton said. "I paused for dramatic effect."

"Let me think this through."

The boys rolled their eyes, but clammed up. They'd seen my concentration trick before...

"Ben may be right."

He raised the roof. I ignored him.

"If Chance catches you act love struck." Hi winked. "That'll work."

"Love struck?" Ben's brow furrowed. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing. Wish me luck." Stupid Hi.

"What are you doing here?" I babbled.

"What am I doing here? I live here."

"She's going to say 'tonight', isn't she?" Shelton's chin dropped to his chest. "Every time I think I'm done for the night, Tory says we have to raid some fortress."

"Hiram!" Shelton ran to Hi's side. "Aren't you bleeding? I thought she shot you!"

"Tory can order me around inside my head." Ben said. "If that doesn't make us close, I don't know what does."

#hey sorry this post is so fucking long #i just re-re-read them and am in love (yet again) with these books #these are all from the first book btw #i kinda hate that the series and the first book have the first name #i'm gonna be making one of these for every book tho so deepest apologies #long post #virals #virals series #the morris island pack

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