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#even to the point of ‘putting them against each other’…
fangirl-dot-com · 2 days
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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kingkaizen · 1 day
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples. “I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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rynwritesreid · 12 hours
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Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏
A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.
Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.
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You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.
Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.” 
You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.
Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."
*
“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling. 
Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."
“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”
Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.
“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.
Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."
You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.
"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."
*
Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly. 
*
“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”
You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.
Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.
*
“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.
“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.
"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession. 
Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.
Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.
The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes. 
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.
You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.
You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.
“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”
Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.
"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him. 
“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.
"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.
“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.
“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.
You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.
“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.
“Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.
“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.
In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface. 
“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.
“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.
Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.
“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.
“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.
"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.
Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.
"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."
You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.
"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."
With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.
Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.
You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.
"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."
His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.
"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.
"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."
Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.
"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.
His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.
"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."
Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.
Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."
You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.
"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.
"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."
"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."
Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."
Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.
He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement. 
You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.
The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.
"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."
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Just wanna make Carm cum in his vintage jeans is that too much to ask 🥺
Mmmmmmhhhh I so get it.
Straddling inexperienced Carmy while he’s sitting up on the couch at his place. There’s pure desire in his eyes as he looks up at you. His hands lay beside his thighs on the couch cushions, like he has no idea where to put them.
“You can touch me you know, Carm. I don’t mind.”
“I uh, I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”
“It’s not disrespectful at all. I want you to touch me.” You take each of his hands by the wrist, guiding him to hold your hips. “There we go, that’s better.” Carmy’s hands tremble slightly on your waist. He’s nervous out of his mind.
“K-kiss me?” Carmen asks. His voice comes out merely as a whine.
You meet his lips without hesitation, pressing your tongue on the seam between his lips. It takes him a second to catch on, but as soon as he does, he opens his mouth to let you in.
Carmy groans into your mouth as your lips move against his. His hands grip your hips tight enough to bruise. Naturally, your hips grind down onto him. He’s rock hard underneath you, straining against the fabric of his jeans.
You don’t slow down your hips, relishing in the desperate whimpers that leave his throat. His hands have slipped underneath your shirt to feel your bare skin. He doesn’t dare travel upwards though, no matter how much he wants to.
Your hands have moved to comb through his curls, pulling tightly. Carmy’s can’t get enough of you. He’s strong arms press you down on the hardness in his jeans.
His lips can barely stay connected to yours, too overwhelmed by you. He can’t stop the helpless groans that come out of his mouth one after the other. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before working down his face to his neck.
Carmy’s hips buck up against you as you suck on the pulse of his neck. “Fuck—“ he moans completely unabashed. His head falls back against the couch, giving you full access to his neck. When your teeth lightly scrape down his pulse point, a sharp whine escapes him.
You continue your movements on top of him, but that stops when he clutches at your hips, stopping you with his arms. “T-too much.“ Carmy can barely get the words out.
Carefully, you sit up and stare at the sight before you. Carmy is still lying with his head thrown back. His cheeks are bright red, and he’s refusing to open his eyes and make eye contact with you. It’s then you put the pieces together. You realize the bulge in his pants is gone. Now, a small wet spot grows on the front of his jeans.
“Oh—“ You really don’t know what else to say. You haven’t had a guy ever cum from dry humping before now.
He finally opens his eyes to look at you. “Shit, m’sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?” Your hand combs through his hair soothingly.
“It’s embarrassing. I-I finally have a girl back to my place and I can’t even—“ he groans in defeat, letting his head fall back.
“I dunno Carm. I thought it was pretty hot.”
His head perks back up at your words. His blue eyes blown wide. “You what?”
“Yeah— I’ve never had a guy uh, like that so much. It feels like a compliment more than anything. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“C-can I return the favor?”
“Oh—I mean you don’t have to! It’s totally fine if you—“
He cuts you off before touching can finish your sentence. “I want to. Please.”
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tinalbion · 3 days
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"You Reap What You Sow" ||
Part 2
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x fem!Reader
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Mentions of death, decapitation, abuse (physical and mental), implied (but not mentioned) sexual abuse, manipulation
𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.5k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had a bounty on your head and a familiar Ghoul has taken that bounty, so upon catching you, he escorts you back to the compound you escaped. Will you be able to convince him to let you go, or will it be for nothing?
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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You were already exhausted with the sun so high up, causing your skin to feel as if it was melting, but you continued to make your way through the wastes beside your bounty hunter friend, and he hadn't been in a particularly friendly mood today. When you tried to ask him something, you were mostly met with silence, so you just dropped it altogether and continued to walk. As the sun began to sink again, you had distanced yourself from the Ghoul, wishing you had more of a plan to escape from his hold. 
Sure, he hadn't tied your hands together and pulled you along forcefully since you'd given him no reason to, but that didn't mean he wouldn't end up doing so at one point or another. He still kept a watchful eye on you and made sure to match your pace, ready for anything that was to happen. 
But neither of you was prepared for when two strange men approached you both from the left, catching you off guard as you hid behind the Ghoul for safety. He looked down at you, confused as to why you'd seek comfort and safety from him, but he hadn't given you a reason not to. 
“‘Scuse me, but we want that,” one of the men, the taller one, pointed directly at you. “Heard there was a bounty on her, and we ain't one to turn down some caps.”
The Ghoul scoffed and stared at them, obviously not amused. “She's already taken, as you can see, and I ain't got time to deal with lowlifes such as yourselves. Finders keepers.”
You tugged on the sleeve of his decaying duster and caught his attention. “Those two belong to the Condemned, the compound Axton is a part of, where I ran from. He probably sent them to kill you since you brought me this far, keep the money for himself…” You wouldn't have put it past the asshole, but You did recognize the two men even though you couldn't place their names or occupations. 
Upon hearing this new information, the Ghoul lifted his head and stared at the two men, reading the situation. “Well, my little friend here says you work for the asshole who put the bounty out, and I normally  don't have a problem with disposin’ of those who stand in my way, but now I feel downright disrespected with what's goin’ on here.” He placed his hand gently on the hilt of the gun and watched them both start acting nervous, their eyes darting back and forth from each other to the bounty hunter. 
“Look, either way, Axton is getting his little whore back, so–”
With speed you'd never experienced firsthand before, the man's head had exploded. Blood, brain matter, it all shot out and projected far as his now lifeless body crumpled to the ground. You jumped, your hands still holding onto the Ghoul's coat as his gun shifted over toward the other man. 
“Now, you got somethin’ to say against all this, or are you gonna run back to your compound and tell your man Axton that I better get what I'm owed?”
The man looked terrified and slunk back until the Ghoul had placed his gun back into its holster, then he looked down at you. “You're okay, girl, stand up,” he instructed, and you obeyed him. “C’mon, let's get you back before anything else decides to irritate me.”
You stuck close to the bounty hunter and although you could have easily done that yourself, the fear of seeing people that were under his pay, people that you've seen speaking with him, it caused you to freeze in the moment you needed to be clear-headed. As silly as it seemed, this man who was going to turn you back to where you ran felt like more of a safer option. 
“Mister Bounty Hunter… please, I'd rather not be given back to him…” You said, your expression was sullen. 
“Look, sweetheart, I ain't got much of an option right now, these chems you see me inhalin’? These keep me from goin’ feral, you understand? And that's where the bounty comes in, a man’s gotta survive one way or another. I got more important things to worry about right now, as awful as your situation is.”
You did understand, you wished you could have done something to make both your lives easier, but there was only one way to do that, and it would be easier said than done. Before you spoke up further about it, you felt a hard tug at your ankle and you went flying to the ground. 
You fell hard and let out a yelp, the Ghoul spun around and watched as the man who you both thought retreated had roped you by your ankle and was struggling to completely bind your legs together. You had been thrashing around, kicking and screaming at the man as you landed your foot against his jaw, but he reacted quickly and punched you in return. You were slightly stunned, but you had thrown your bag off your back and reached for the pistol in your pack, then shot him square in the neck. There would be no time wasted, you weren't one to take it lying down anymore. 
The Ghoul had stared at the scene in interest, a smile grew across his face as he walked over and rolled the limp body off your legs. “Well, seems like you're a little killer, huh?” He chuckled and removed his knife from its sheath, then cut you free of your half-tied bindings with one quick thrust of the knife upward. 
“I do what I can to get by, much like yourself,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Thanks…” You stood up and dusted yourself off, then looked around before you grabbed your bag, gun still in your hand. 
“You're a curious one, you know that?” The Ghoul said, staring over at you. When you didn't answer and only greeted him with a puzzled look, he scoffed. “Had a gun the whole time and you didn't think to use it on me?” 
You looked away and slid your pack on, then you looked back at him. “Told you, I don't got a shot against you.” 
This made him laugh, he let out a belt of laughter and shook his head. “Been on this  planet for over 200 years and yet I can still be surprised.” 
His back faced away from the seemingly dead merc, but you took notice of the movement a little too late. The man lashed out toward the Ghoul, but you leaped at him and pushed him out of the way, your gun still in your hand, but the way the man threw himself had knocked you back. He plunged a knife deep into your shoulder, and you let out a howl of pain.
“Can't wait to see what he does to you, you bi–”
You brought your gun up to his head and blasted him. He dropped heavily into your lap, his blood splattered all over you, the ground, and your gun. 
You were shaking as the Ghoul got you to your feet, but you clung to him as if your life depended on it, you were just so tired of Axton and the bullshit he constantly put you through, and it finally caught up to you. You sobbed as you buried your face against your captor's chest, just wanting to live a life without Axton, but he'd haunt you until one of you died. 
“I'm sorry,” you groaned, the knife still lodged into your shoulder as you bit your lip. “Dammit.” You sniffled, wiped your face, and slid your pack off your shoulder carefully, hoping not to aggravate your wound. 
“Why’d you do that?”
“What, kill him?” You asked in confusion, tears still welling in your eyes while you dug for a stimpack. 
The Ghoul scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “You pushed me out of the way, you fool,” he admonished. “You ain't got healing like I do, why'd you do somethin’ so stupid?” He placed some pressure on your wound and grabbed the stimpack from your shaking hand. “Breathe in,” he instructed. 
You did as he told you and that's when he administered the stimpack, then you winced at the pain of him pulling the knife out, but immediately holding the wound to slow the bleeding. You looked up at him with a small smile despite all that. “Thanks.”
“Don't pull nothin’ like that again, you hear me?” He began to help you dress the wound as expertly as he could, though he was a tad rusty with having to deal with mortal wounds. 
“What, you'll still get paid regardless. I'm only gonna get worse when I'm back there…” You looked down at the ground and felt the closeness you both shared, but you didn't comment on it. 
He was the first to pull away, but it took him longer than expected. “Come on,” he urged. He had nothing more to say, he had to think. 
More time had passed and you finally stood before the poorly constructed walls of the compound, and you were visibly distraught. “Mister, please,” you said as you turned toward him. You were no longer afraid to release the tears that threatened to fall. “I can't, you saw just a small sliver of what he's capable of, he will beat me senselessly, string me up. I just wanted freedom…” You looked back at the compound and tried your best to remain composed. “What if we take them out? All of them? I know the combination to his safe, I know where everything is stashed, I could help you.”
The Ghoul stood there in silence, listening to your words, words of desperation and bargaining. And as much as he wanted to simply ignore it, he knew he couldn't. Not anymore. You'd stuck your neck out for him, you'd not given him any trouble as he escorted you back, and somehow you managed to grow on him. How, he had no idea, but the sound of killing all these bastards seemed more than satisfactory. Killing them all so they didn't hurt anyone else like you, take their earnings, it all seemed fair, especially after sending someone to take him out and keep the caps for themselves. 
“Even if I were to entertain the idea, sweetheart, there ain't a guarantee you'll make it out of there. I can handle gunshots, you're gonna be a walkin’ corpse riddled with holes.” 
“I know their shifts. I paid attention when I was keeping track of when and who would be where. I can make it happen, I promise. Just please, help me take them down and you can help yourself to whatever you want.” 
The Ghoul looked away from you and brought his attention back to the compound, his eyes stared into the area as he mulled over your words. He let out a sigh, hung his head, and smiled a little. He was going to do this for a smoothie, a human, and for what? Maybe it didn't sit well with him that you took a stab wound for him, that he felt like he owed you for something you didn't need to throw your life on the line for. After what seemed like a good, long while, he turned back to you and sighed. His eyes wandered over your face as he recalled his past, something he tried not to do regularly, and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. 
Again, he just sighed. “You better come through, you hear?” He warned, his hand raised and his finger pointed at you. “But if anythin’ happens, I ’spose you could call me Cooper…”
Your eyes lit up and you stared at him in awe. “Like…Cooper Howard…?” You gasped and smiled so wide you thought your cheeks would hurt. 
He scoffed. “Yeah, that's me, just don't go tellin’ people, you understand?” 
With a burst of excitement and a lapse in judgment, you threw your arms around him despite feeling the sting of your wound, and you hugged him. He didn't realize how big of a deal this was to you, your heart soared with delight at the news, and it was almost like an old part of your life was here, comforting you in tough times. “Oh, I'm definitely loving our chances now.”
The Ghoul just sighed and patted your shoulder awkwardly, wanting to support you in his change of heart. “I hope I don’t regret this…” he whispered to himself.
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The ringing in your ears was causing you to squeeze your eyes closed as you tried to focus on anything other than the sound, but it gradually increased and you did your best to try and remain out of the crossfire as you hid behind one of the walls inside the compound. 
You and Cooper had gotten halfway through the building already, both of you easily working together when it came to taking down the men you knew so well, but you felt nothing except a growing sense of freedom the more men fell. You'd grown up with a lot of them, sure, but none of that mattered once they had begun to follow Axton's orders and put you in harm's way. You wouldn't admit to it, but the satisfaction you felt when they would fall to the ground as they bled out almost was too wicked for you to take any joy in, but deep down, you relished it. 
According to your memory, you and Cooper had taken down about fifteen of them so far, and you only had fifteen– bang– fourteen more to go. Axton would be holed up in his pathetic excuse of a ‘panic room’, which you knew the code to, so he'd be the best to save for last. You peeked around the corner, your pistol in hand as you looked for any more on this floor. 
“I think they're all running up to protect their stash now, they're gonna be crowded in a room on the top floor. Axton would want all his riches to be the top priority, the greedy bastard.” You stepped out and pushed on with the Ghoul right beside you, following your lead as you guided him through the compound. 
“There any coverage between us and that door?” He asked, his gun still raised as he looked over at you. 
“Yeah, there's a double wall up there, no doors,” you replied and paused when you saw someone cowering in the corner. You gasped and ran to that person with a relieved expression. 
“Oh my gosh, Toby?” You knelt beside them and placed a hand on their shoulder. 
Cooper was about to interject, afraid to take up too much time dwelling on checking on survivors, but the person known as Toby looked up at you and their expression was shocked. It was a Ghoul, just like him; not yet feral. Toby smiled and stood up, greeting you with a tight hug. 
“Oh, you're back, you're back! I thought you would have been killed, or worse!” Toby sobbed as they hugged you, pulling you tighter and tighter. 
“Toby, you have to get out of here, go outside the compound, and stay hidden till we come out.”
“You're doing it, aren't you, you're finally taking him down?” The Ghoul looked relieved and terrified, and yet the smile that spread across their face spoke volumes. 
You smiled in return and nodded. “Yeah, Cooper and I are, now come on, go, I'll find you after, okay?” You gave him one last hug and pushed on with Cooper by your side. 
You'd finally made it to the last floor, and you were both greeted with heavy gunfire. You pressed back against the wall with Cooper on the other side, and he looked at you as he counted down on his fingers from five. After it ended, he spun toward the door and just began to blast the mercenaries, all shots landing where they were supposed to. You followed in behind him and tried to keep up, taking down any stragglers with your pistol as you kept it aimed high. Whenever you shot another, they'd look at you in horror, realizing that you were finally fighting back. Some of them seemed to know it would have happened eventually, others seemed betrayed that it was you, but you wore the same expression as you gunned them down. 
Remorseless.
You’d been counting down, naming each one of the men in Axton’s employ as you shot them, remembering their faces, recalling all the times they’d done you wrong. With each bullet put into them, you felt lighter, a heavy burden was released from your shoulders. But you knew you needed to get to your main problem before you would feel any semblance of comfort. But now that you thought about it, you felt comfort being here with Cooper, which was an odd thing to say considering he was there initially to bring you back to this hellhole. But you’d both grown on each other, though he would never admit to it, but you hoped that he would after all was said and done. 
Once the last man had fallen from a shot to his leg, Cooper walked up to him as he crawled away, then stepped on the wound and stepped down hard, and he laughed as the blood came pouring from the wound while the man cried out. The Ghoul didn’t let up as he leaned closer to the man.
“So cowpoke, where’s your boy, Axton, huh?” 
The man who you knew as Luther had looked up, horrified to see the hand cannon he held pointed directly at his face. “L-L-Look, he’s in there,” he pointed to the right where his room had been, “I don’t got nothin’ to do with what he did to her! I swear!”
Cooper looked over at you for confirmation, but you looked away from him, your face filled with unwanted recalled memories. All of his men stood by and turned a blind eye to the things he’d done to you and many others, you wouldn’t soon forget. Cooper turned back to the bleeding man and smirked slyly.
“Seems that she says otherwise, partner, guess it ain’t your lucky day,” he said with a faux frown as he raised the gun to his head and shot without hesitation. He walked back to you and stood beside you, looking at you in silence for a moment. “You ready to take on this son of a bitch?”
You swung your pack around and dug for your box of ammo, filled your gun, and then looked into the Ghoul’s eyes. “I’ve been ready. But you gotta be careful, he’ll have heavy weapons on him, so don’t let him get you off guard.”
“You don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart, I think I already established that.” He reached a gloved hand toward your face, and it lingered there for a moment as it hovered near your cheek. Cooper decided against it and sighed, then looked back in the direction of the room.
You wondered what he wanted to say to you, but maybe it wasn't something meant for right now, instead, you two had something to deal with. You walked toward the room and typed in the code you distinctly memorized despite not being allowed inside, and the door swung open to reveal Axton with a large turbo Plasma rifle, the only one in his collection. He pointed it directly at you with a smile on his face. 
“Shoulda known it was you,” he scoffed. “After all I gave you here, a place to stay, food to eat, safety?”
“You didn't give me anything other than scars inside and out,” you spat back. “You had this coming, whether it was from me or someone else. You get what you get.”
His eyes darted to the Ghoul and he let out hearty laughter. “Oh, this is even better, what, employing a Ghoul to help you? Always were obsessed with them.”
“They're friends! Toby is my friend!” You yelled and shot off a round straight at him, but he immediately dropped and dodged it before it could hit him. He just laughed at you and shook his head.
“Always were a lousy shot. So, Ghoul, she employed you, promise you that you'd get whatever you want in here?” He waved around the room and scoffed again. “She lied. She ain't shit, and neither are you.”
“Well, actually…” Cooper said with a playful smile on his face, “I was the bounty hunter who planned on turnin’ her in but after seein’ so much of who you are? Gotta hand it to the little lady, I ain't impressed with how this is goin’.”
Axton just laughed and shook his head. “Oh, so you're betraying me, too? Damn, what did she do, give it up to you to get you to change your mind–”
Cooper let off a shot that hit him in the shoulder and blood spurted out, but he didn't go down, not yet. “Better watch your mouth, boy,” he warned. 
Axton groaned but laughed and shook his head. “Oh man, she did, didn't she?! It's all she's good at anyway.”
“Enough!” You screamed out as you began shooting at him, not taking into account that you should have kept a level head of things. You tried to hit him, but he shot the plasma rifle at your feet, which caused you to stumble back and fall on your ass. 
Axton laughed and grabbed a pistol, then aimed at you to finally silence you, but Cooper easily shot it out of his hand, causing it to stumble and fly off somewhere. He ran up on the man and slammed his foot hard into his stomach, and Axton lost his footing and fell. Cooper didn't give him time to recover, instead, he ran up and kicked him again, this time across the jaw. 
Axton let out a yell and spat blood out onto the floor, but he was just laughing, and as he looked back at you, sneering. “You think this is gonna make things better? I own you,” he said as he pointed at you, “and you ain't gonna finish this.”
“She might not, but I will,” Cooper said as he held his hand cannon up to his head. 
“No!” You shouted, your hand reaching out toward him as you stared at the Ghoul. Your face was soft as you looked at him, and sure you hadn't known him long, but the lengths he was going to just to protect you… it meant more to you than you could put into words. you walked up to Cooper, who stared over at you quizzically. “I wanna do it.” 
Axton just laughed again. “You're gonna do it? Better off letting the Ghoul do it.”
You swung your gun around toward him and aimed directly at his forehead as he sat on the ground, trying his best to pick up his pride. “I don't need anyone to do my job for me, Axton, you think I'm weak? But I'm not, I've taken out more of your men than you've taken out bounties. I'm better than you in every way.” 
This got the man howling in laughter as he sat there below you, staring up at your gun. He felt that you wouldn't do a damn thing, and you would just fall for his ways again. You would let him live and he'd take you as his captor once again. “Sure, sweetheart, whatever lies you fed yourself, you can keep on believing them all I know is I'm gonna fucking  kill you–”
Your finger pulled back, the explosion of his head and brain matter splattered everywhere, and his body fell back. No more words, no more threats, no more danger. You stared at the man who once beat you, hurt you, did unspeakable things to you, and you finally felt that weight release from your shoulders. Your body suddenly felt weak, you stumbled and almost fell, but Cooper was there in an instant. His arms enveloped you as he lowered you to the ground so you could take a moment. 
You stared down at him and huffed. “Only he can call me that,” you spat and continued to stare down at him.
Your eyes didn't leave the scene of Axton's decapitated body, it felt too good to be true, like a sick dream that you'd wake up from. But your companion placed a hand on your cheek, pulling your attention away from the gruesome scene and made you face him. There was contentment in the way you looked up at Cooper, a small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him. 
“I did that, right?” You asked him in disbelief.
Cooper gave you a small smile. “Yeah, you did ya little killer, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
“What about your pay? There are chems too, you’re gonna need those, please, get what you need. I’ll be okay… I’ll sit over here, you grab all of what you can.” You wandered over to the corner and sat down on the floor, away from the large pool of blood slowly making its way around. 
You waited for Cooper to grab all that he could and gathered a large amount of chems, caps, and whatever else he could fit into his pack, then he sauntered up to you and grabbed your hand to pull you to your feet. “Alright then, I got all I could hold, got some for you too, you ready?”
You looked over at him and seemed taken off guard by his question. “What do you mean?” 
“Well, are you comin’ with me or not? Didn’t think you’d wanna stay here.”
Your eyes stared at him for a good while, but you weren’t sure what to say now that you were here, and now you had the opportunity to leave. “Really? You’d want me to go with you?” You asked softly. 
Cooper scoffed and looked off at the destruction you both caused. “I ain’t gonna leave you here alone, sweetheart. Not gonna lie, you’ve grown on me, and as much as I’ve done in this lifetime, I ain’t that much of a monster.”
You couldn’t help but laugh and look around the room, then back at him. “I guess that’s the best choice I could ever ask for, huh?” You asked softly, smiling wide. “So… you really mean it?”
Cooper turned around and shook his head with a smirk. “I mean if you’d rather stay here, then-”
You grabbed him and pulled at his shoulder, causing him to turn to face you. He looked surprised, but his eyes widened when you pulled him into a soft kiss. He didn’t pull away, he just stared at you as you pulled away from him, but you seemed much more reserved now. 
“Sorry… but yeah, let’s get going, if that’s still on the table…”
The Ghoul just laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair. “Well, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade up here, but I ‘spose havin’ you as company will lighten it up a little.”
You placed your gun in your pack and sighed as you slipped it over your shoulder, but the smile you wore after kissing Cooper was one that you’d wear for quite a while. “I think I can agree with that.”  
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How do you think the boys were when MC didn't come back for a day? I imagine Kaito starting a riot and probably crying. Maybe even failing to sneak out lol (I love him 😭)
Oh GOD! the CHAOS! I'm gonna do this more as a group headcanon for both houses. Thank you for sending in a request!
It was around lunch time when the message that MC went MIA on a mission. These are the headcanons of the brave souls that survived that day.
FROSTHEIM
Jin was already pissed that he lost his newest gopher (affectionate) to do stuff for him. But the second that message dropped. He had to do a double and even a triple take to make sure he read that right. As soon as he's sure he IMMEDIATELY get Tohma to check the tracker on the cruiser he lent out to them (he's rich. He absolutely has a tracker put on his shit)
Kaito is screaming, crying, throwing up (okay maybe not that last one). He's READY to go dive into the water to save MC. He is LOSING IT scoob!
Some would think that our boy Luca would try to keep Kaito calm....in actuality he's almost just as bad. He just manages to keep it on the inside. He's trying to do it through the proper channels (ie Professor Dante) but when that doesn't work or will take too long for their liking, he's coming up with an escape plan right alongside Kaito.
We gave to remember that Luca has already lost one of his loved ones. He's sure as HELL not losing another one without a fight!
Tohma is STRESSED! Not because MC is missing though. He's concerned sure, but he's sure they'll come back soon, missions are typically dangerous after all. He doesn't have much faith in the academy itself. Its more of a logical way of thinking. Its one day, he's sure they're fine.
Where his stress is coming from is the other Frostheim ghouls. He's basically that meme of someone with kids on leashes each going in different directions. Someone HELP this man's before he goes gray!
VAGASTROM
Alan had to hear from someone else. He was shocked to hear that MC had gone missing. It was even worse since the last time he saw them they weren't sure if their ability worked or how it worked. He went to go ask some of the professors to see what happened but got what was essentially nothing.
Sho was worried but he didn't show it. He tried to play it off like he was too focused on his food truck to worry about the honor student. He did however ask his brother about them when he saw him next. His brother mercilessly teased him about possibly liking MC and Sho instantly regretted asking. Every now and then he considered trying to call MC to see if they would answer.
He decided against it and focused more on his truck to keep his mind off of things.
Leo doesn't care. At this point he still wants to take MC down. So while its not the way he wanted to do it, it meant no more annoying NPC tagging along on missions with them. So to him, it was a win. The only annoying part was Alan and Sho worrying about them. He didn't get it and just laughed at the gossip on WickChat about the meltdown at Frostheim.
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jazzyblusnowflake · 3 days
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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.
(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)
Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying
oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....
Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]
See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭
But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-
//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.
overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭
either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]
but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.
Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]
as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...
one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...
anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.
and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")
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CHAPTER 36: The Asylum - Part 2
Finally here, sorry this one took so long, we both got really busy this time but it's here!
Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe
Layout/roughs, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman
(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)
PART2
Once-ler: *He holds the Warden in his arms, relieved to have another moment alone with him, knowing that they're going to get out of here and that people are following his orders. At least he can have his glasses, they're just glasses, prisoners get to wear their glasses because they're visually impaired, this should be no different. He sniffs and wipes his tears with his hand, whispering.* I love you too. *Kisses the Warden's head and sighs out, hooking his chin over his head and bundling him up in his arms.* You're going to be okay, we- we're going to get you out. *He can't let him down.*
Warden: *His eyes shut, and as he floats in the vague numbness of what's been done to him, he absorbs all of Oncie's love, the feeling of his arms, the scent of his clothes and the way his voice vibrates through his chest. It helps to calm him, more than anything else ever could, but there's an instinctive part of him ready to have it all ripped away.*
Dr. Zazzerzump: *She strides straight into the room and states in a simple, curt voice.* Mr. Once-ler. *She has the air of a headteacher who won't be suffering nonsense, but because she isn't a blustering, loud older man, and hasn't brought the chaos of a crowd with her, she doesn't cause the same flinching reaction in the Warden as everything else. To him, this is just one more thing to trust Oncie to handle for him.*
Once-ler: *Pulls his head back from his boyfriend and looks over to the new doctor walking into the room. He knows this lady to be the woman in charge here. Good, that means he can sort this out properly rather than having to slap drones around. He doesn't get up though; he won't leave Edmund unless it's necessary, and he doesn't care how he looks holding him. If anything it only shows that he means the man no harm and that they do share a relationship.* Hm. *His eyes meet hers and he lets out an acknowledging grunt.* Doctor... *He looks her up and down as for a moment her name escapes him, but he does know all the names in charge of his cities' institutions.* Doctor Zazzerzump. *That's the one. He frowns, glancing around at the other nurses as they follow in behind her as if he's pretending to wonder where the Warden's glasses are, like he's making a point. Two male doctors join also, including Snickberry-Shoo, who all keep their distance.* Thank you. I requested the nurses bring this man’s glasses to me, where are they?
Dr. Zazzerzump: *Her eyes flit to the way the Once-ler is holding the patient only once, to take in the information and judge it. It's inappropriate, maybe, but it is proof that they know each other. Or proof that the patient has been so well-drugged that he doesn't know what's happening. Well, the Once-ler is a sane man, so it's presumably the first one. And yet, policy is policy for a reason.* The patient is in here because he proved to be a danger to himself and others. We can arrange for his glasses to be reconsidered, but he cannot have them back just because you asked... *She searches for a word that isn't rude.* 'nicely'. I will have the administrators put in a request, and he will be re-evaluated for his tendencies.
Warden: *He curls tighter, pushing his bare face against the Once-ler's chest so he doesn't have to see the world without his filter.*
Once-ler: *Feels a spike of adrenaline in his chest when he's refused, the thought of having to wait making his frustration build all over again.* That's not soon enough. Can't you make an exception?! Look at him, he needs them. Even prisoners don't have their own glasses confiscated. What could be so bad about him having his when I can supervise?
Dr. Zazzerzump: They could break - he could break them - and then we have glass shards, sharp wire, and an unpredictable man in the same room. The hospital would be liable if any harm came to either of you, even - *she anticipates the potential solution he might offer* if you were to sign a waiver. I'm afraid your friend must follow the rules like everyone else in the secure wing - no special treatment. But we can have him seen by our resident optician if necessary.
Once-ler: You’re already causing harm to him by treating him like this. *Breathes in a sharp, frustrated breath as he clutches onto Edmund harder. He knew these were the reasons. He doesn't care. Edmund is more dangerous to himself without the glasses. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t already drugged up to his eyeballs, bound in a straight-jacket, and not being watched over by a sensible and powerful man.* Don't you have security cameras here for the same reason? Just keep a closer eye on him for god sake! *He knows that what he's asking is exactly special treatment, but why shouldn't he? Parole exists so that those facing trial can pay to be in a comfortable environment while they wait. He raises an eyebrow.* I'll sign whatever the hell you like, if any harm came to either of us I'd take that responsibility on myself and see to it that no repercussions fall on the hospitals reputation. I can do that. *He tilts his head to the other side, frowning harder.* On the other hand, however, I can't promise the same should my requests be refused. *Hisses as one hand releases Edmund to slip into an inner pocket inside his jacket to fine his cheque book.* Fuck sake, how much do you want for them? *Looks at her like she just personally hurt him* He’s not dangerous, not with me and not right now, look at him. I’ll pay you extra if we could just arrange to have him monitored so that he can have what he really nee-
Dr. Zazzerzump: I cannot be bought, Mr. Once-ler. *As corruptible as the bribe of money can make people, sometimes those with the a more selfish agenda than just greed can be more malicious.* *She doesn’t care for money, she cares for maintaining an old archaic institute that she holds power over. Taking small wins, keeping control over anyone in her immediate vicinity, and insisting on her old fashioned ideals. And it just so happens the vulnerable patients in this place make those objectives a lot easier. She remains totally unmoved, as cold as steel, although she does for a moment feel a skip in her chest at the thought of more money towards their operations here. Still, she will have no preferential treatment for the wealthy or connected, even if the town's founder himself starts writing a check. She doesn’t quite realise that anyone, poor or wealthy, known or noone, would be willing to give up everything in their possession for the people they love. She holds a fundamental belief, a false ‘moral’ virtue about herself, that those of the mentally impaired are a danger to be hidden rather than human beings to be treated, despite having little to no modern research supporting her biases. There is no grey area that could suggest that the pain of others might warrant an empathetic reconsideration of the ‘rules’, she just holds onto these old ideas being ‘correct’. It’s as if Thneedville, and the people in it, are a product of a time where mindsets like this were the modern standards.* As I said, we cannot sign our duty of care away.
Warden: *He shifts, yielding as easily as a doe when Oncie's hand releases him to pull out his cheque book, but never stops gripping onto him. It's all going over his head, whoever that voice belongs to. Oncie is fighting a battle above the surface of the water while he sinks down below, and all he can do to avoid going (further) mad with fright is to hold on and make sure he never leaves him by himself. Right now the world is very simple - everything outside of their arms wants to hurt him or worse, abandon him to his own mind. Everything inside their arms is safe and loves him.*
Once-ler: *Sneers at her through his teeth in a low voice.* Ev-ery-thing can be bought. *He lets her speak, and as she does, he removes his thneed from his neck as if he's already made up his mind about something, not needing to hear the rest of it- because one can’t reason with a person who’s already accepted their own world view as fact. One can’t engage debate, even the most civil, with a person who has already made up their mind. The only thing that matters now is protecting his own pack. Something about the way this woman speaks is making it both harder for him to breathe the fire he usually does and at the same time makes him want to burn it all down with even more fury than when he spoke to the previous doctor. It isn't just a bigger dog biting at a smaller yappy dog, it's a fox VS a snake, both fighting for the fallen rabbit, and he's met a snake like this before. Thankfully the two women are nothing alike, but that doesn't stop the vitriolic, rebellious feeling in his gut needing to prove her wrong. He hisses again, almost scoffing at the irony of her words.* Your ‘duty of care’… *He glances to the Warden in sympathy, then back to her with far less.* Why is he so out of his mind?
Dr Zazzerzump: *Adjusts her glasses.* Is that a trick question, Mr Once-ler? All of the patients here are ‘out of their mind’, that’s what this place is for. We haven’t begun analysis or treatment on this particular patient yet, but he’s here for a reason-
Once-ler: That’s not what I meant! *He steams. Treatment of this sort has nothing to do with the rationality of the person involved, they shouldn’t be strapped up, sedated, and left in a cold corner for someone to find them- if someone ever comes to find them- without sympathetic care.* I meant why is he so sedated? Why is he all drugged up out of his mind?
Dr Zazzerzump: He was acting out, Mr Once-ler. a danger to everybody. We sedate all of our patients. It makes them feel better and it makes it easy for us to handle them and treat them. *Of course, she has no understanding of how these patients might truly feel, she’s just trying to come across as caring to hide that all she really cares about is the efficiency of her control here.*
Once-ler: *He almost screams out lout to her; ‘Even when he’s already in a straightjacket?!’ But he doesn’t, it wouldn’t help. He looks down at Edmund who can barely hear this conversation through water, he just knows Oncie is there somewhere and is trying to protect him, but if the man wasn’t here then the confusion would only be making him panic more as he looses an extra layer of stability and understanding.* He’s not comfortable at all, he doesn’t feel better at all, he’s scared. *Maybe he was being a menace, maybe he did deserve to be brought somewhere, but then shouldn’t he have been brought to a jail cell for disorderly conduct? Somewhere he can be held for safety reasons, call someone he knows, speak to a lawyer and at least be reviewed before taken to an asylum? Who authorised that he be brought here? Were they called before the police and just snapped him up to fill one of their patient cells?… He had no idea this sort of conduct was going on here, in his own city. This is old, archaic stuff. For as abstract as Thneedville is, sometimes he does feel that it’s oddly stuck in the 1970’s, as if it’s a product of a mind that’s frame of reference is a world straight out of the late 60’s. Maybe after all of this is over he really should review this place top to bottom officially and write up a report, not just because he’s been personally hurt by it and it’s employees, but because there might be things here he’s not looked at, that could seriously do with reforming.*
Dr Zazzerzump: *Says nothing. She hasn't spared a second glance at Edmund, she's been too busy watching the angry man making his demands and she clearly has no intention of treating these patients like human beings.* If you have no further requirements, I shall leave you two in peace. Visiting hours close at 6.
Once-ler: *Almost hisses at the way she ignores his genuine concerns.* That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?! *He huffs, and in a sweep of his tailcoats, he turns back to the Warden and strides strictly over to him. He glares over his shoulder to the doctor.* I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here with him.
Dr Zazzerump: *Suddenly spikes. He can’t stay here! That’s an obstacle between herself and the power she holds over everyone in the place.* Visiting hours close at 6 Mr-
Once-ler: I heard you! And I don’t care. If you won’t let me take him out then I have no other option than to stay with him overnight while I make preparations to have him removed.
Dr Zazzerzump: *Sneers* Mr Once-ler if you do not leave, I will have to have you removed by security.
Once-ler: *Turns around and folds his arms.* Who do you think your security is funded by? Who do you think your very institute is funded by? *He squints and tilts his head.* The Thneedville government? *He scoffs at her*. You think your governments have more power than corporations? Where did you hire your security, from the government or from a company?
Dr Zazzerzump: *Remains quiet and clenches her jaw.*
Once-ler: That’s what I thought. *He tilts his head to the door.* Go on, call them, tell them to remove me… If you really think they’ll listen to your orders over mine. *Fine. He’ll play her games of ‘procedure’ and ‘protocol’, she can make this harder for him as much as she wants, that doesn’t mean she’s going to enjoy it.*
Dr Zazzerzump: *Her icy demeanour starting to crack, she tries to hold herself together, keep her composure, refrain from forming shaking fists with her hands at her sides. By the second, the Once-ler is revealing to her what little power she has, despite her doing her best to hold onto it.* Fine. *He hisses under her breath.*
Once-ler: *Turns his back to return to the Warden.* You understand then. Good. I’ll stay here with him for as long as I need. *He won’t leave until Edmund is in his custody, until he can take him out of this dreadful place. Every part of him just wants to drag him our right now, hire his own security, pay theirs off, rip him out of the straight jacket and take him home, but the amount of chaos that that would cause in both the short and long term just isn’t worth the trauma that it’d have on Edmund. For one thing he’d need to leave him to get it all done that fast, and he couldn’t bear to leave him with them- who knows what they would do while he’s unsupervised? The manic of all the action and panic could have a terrible effect on him, while doctors are grabbing at them, large security men are shouting and the Thneedville public are watching him like a spectacle. It’d be cruel to drag him through that. It’d also cause more problems in the long term for them both if if he acted so unofficially. The best thing he can do is be sensible and assertive, plan his escape right by his side, make sure it’s as easy as it can be, and never leave him alone so long as he’s still in here. He’ll need important files and equipment to do it, and that’ll take time to arrange that if he wants to stay with him the whole time, but it can be achieved. Anything can be achieved by the Once-ler. He leans down by his boyfriend and tucks the thneed into Edmund's bound arms across his front so that he can hide his face in it. He leans into his ear.* I'm not going anywhere. *He straightens up and turns to the doctors, standing between them and Edmund and acting as a barrier while looking incredibly tall at his full height and the extra tower of his hat.*
Warden: *He curls up when Oncie gives him the thneed, and the scent of butterfly milk and truffula tufts proves to the animal in the back of his mind that he's still safe. Still, he shivers when he feels Oncie pull away, and buries himself in the fluff, focusing on the gentle way Oncie spoke to him as his sluggish mind tries to hold on to whatever it can through the grey and depressing mire. He doesn't even remember what he did to deserve being locked up in here.*
Once-ler: I didn't get to where I am today, to owning all of your jobs today, under the false idea that 'not everything can be bought'. *His hand forms a fist by his side, the other one pointing a sharp finger.* I've been nice, I’ve played your game, now you're gonna listen to me. This man is leaving this building no later than tomorrow.
Dr Zazzerzump: *Opens her mouth to speak*-
Once-ler *His index finger and thumb pinch together before anyone can interject, as if making a ‘zip it’ gesture.* I don't wanna hear anymore goddamn bullshit recited from ancient documents! You can either make this easier for me or you can make it harder on yourselves, either way I'm getting what I want. I don't care what strings I have to pull, he's leaving tomorrow. You wanna know why? Because if you won't comply, then I can have you all fuckers replaced with people who will by just making three phone calls. So it makes no difference to me other than the fact you're wasting my time!
[The nurses behind the head Dr Zazzersump and take a step back, they straighten up with a spike of adrenaline in their chests, listening to the orders like soldiers. Dr Zazzerzump blinks at him, momentarily surprised and panic setting in at that threat, which quickly turns into cold anger to hide it. She looks around her staff and can feel her own sense of control slowly crumble as the medical teams have their attention stolen away from her by the Once-ler. The man has always been very good at claiming almost anything as his own.]
Once-ler: *Starts to count on his fingers. Without shouting, now sounding more like a very strict, growling army general. Suddenly they all feel like they work for him.* I want his discharge signed. I want his duty of care handed to me. I want his clothes ready. I want him off whatever shit you've been shoving down his throat. I want his goddamn glasses! And I want it all done by 3pm tomorrow because that's how fast it will take me to fuck up your whole system here and make it mine. *If he were an animal, the hackles of his fur would be rising and his teeth would be bearing, the gruffness of his voice growling through with that last word.* Every single one of you is going to be bought because all of these procedures you're following can be bought, so you better not waste any of my goddamn time once I slam that gavel down onto your precious procedures and shove them in my back pocket! *Points a finger towards each of them.* Get it all done by 3pm tomorrow and not a second later, because The Once-ler will not be late.
[The frightened shocked doctors and nurses behind Dr Zazzersump all stare at her with gormless speechlessness. They’re ready to skitter away and do everything he’s asked without question, because, SHIT, they need to get on this fast to have it all ready by tomorrow. Dr Zazzerzump herself is sweating, and every bitter bone in her body wishes she wasn’t. How dare he turn the tables on them and make such unrealistic demands with such a short deadline, they’d have to drop everything to get this done by then.]
Dr. Zazzerzump: *She attempts to straighten up at the same rate that the Once-ler rises, meeting his eyes and paying cold attention but not interrupting him now he’s on a roll. She holds rigid against his threats and swallows, but as she notices her staff becoming more restless at the mention of procedures and paper work, she can’t find a reason to oppose it. What he's asking for is technically reasonable, if unorthodox, so he’s trapped her in a dead end, all her talk of procedures turned back on her, and thrown the threat of a deadline at them all. Thank god that it is reasonable though, in the tightest possible way of tip-toeing around all the orthodox rules, because by this point not even she wants to deal with what wrath he might bring if she refuses him again. At the end of the day, he owns this town more than anyone else, more than she owns this asylum- regrettably.*
Warden: *He hears a man yelling, and like a dreamstate he simultaneously recognises the voice as his Oncie, and expects it to belong to a very different, much more violent man - because that's the man who would normally be in a locked cell like this with him unable to fight back. It’s confusing as his hearts instinct battles his learned neurological instinct. He curls further, clenching his eyes shut even tighter and reminding himself beneath all the numb and rubbery haze that Oncie is protecting him, Oncie will come for him, and that despite the sound of that powerful voice reminding him of things more dangerous, maybe it’s only so powerful because for once it’s actually protecting him. It does sound a lot like his strong Oncie after all. He’s safe.*
Once-ler: *Pulls in a deep breath and grabs the lapels of his jacket, pulling on them to straighten them. Clears his throat.* I will stay with him here overnight, I will keep the button alarm on me should I need to make anymore requests, no-one is to come near him unless it's for very specific medical reasons I'm unqualified to perform. Food, drink, medication, cleaning, anything else will all be handled by myself, and I want him weaned off the medication ASAP. *He raises an eyebrow.* You better hurry up then.
[The nurses scatter like a flock of pigeons, forgetting for a moment that Dr Zazzerzump needed to give an official before they can, but the Once-ler is right, they do need to hurry up if they want it all done on time. They need to turn the place upside down to avoid his wrath if he’s ready to leave tomorrow at 3pm and they’re late for it. How can the man work so fast when there’s only one of him and he can’t leave a cell? They have an entire team of people but they’re the ones frantically panicking for a deadline.)
Dr Zazzerzump: *Behind her, the doctors and nurses have backed off skittishly and darted off to work, trapped between the demands of two different dangerous animals who could both ruin their lives if they make a wrong move, but the bigger one clearly won. After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dr. Zazzerzump clears her throat and raises her hand to them. They’ve already made up their minds who they’re taking orders from now, but she throws out an official instruction, just to maintain a semblance of composure.* *Clears her throat.* Yes!- Mh.. Do as he says. For 3pm tomorrow.
*They scatter out of the door like spilled marbles, leaving the two alone. Then Dr. Zazzerzump continues.*
Dr. Zazzerzump: *Bitterly* The medication is a temporary sedative; it will wear off by morning and I shall make a note that no further doses will be required. There will be a nurse on call to arrange for overnight accommodations. *Grimaces, but tries to maintain professional. The decision has already been made now, all she can do is go along with it and appear as reasonable as she can to avoid receiving that harsh report.* Should you require anything further, the staff will assist you. Is that everything, Mr. Once-ler?
Once-ler: *Finally seems like he might consider withdrawing his claws the moment people start following his orders, especially when the woman confirms it to her staff. The fact that she doesn��t even question his power, influence or ability to have everything done by tomorrow in order to take Edmund out, goes a long way to placating him. He’d have really started ruining lives, he doesn’t care who the head doctor in this place is, if she’d said something like ‘we can’t guarantee, sir, that the changes you claim to make will be completed by then, if at all, and so signing documents and making preparations for rules that aren’t already in place would be a misdirection of time as well as possibly setting us up for illegal- blah blah blah.’ Good thing they all know when they’re in the jaw of the lion.* Yes. You can leave us alone.
*Dr Zazzerzump leaves with a slight twist in her expression, letting out a silent frustrated, but almost relieved that it’s over, sigh of relief. As she and the rest of the staff move away down the corridor and the door swings shut with a heavy thunk, she can be heard issuing clipped commands to everyone else. She tries not to rush too much, because rushing tends to make mistakes, but these things will move quick.*
Once-ler: *When everyone leaves and they’re finally left in private again, he turns back to Edmund, curled up on the floor, and all the anger sighs out of him (at least for now). Drops back down to his knees and leans over him, places his hand on his shoulder.* Edmund…? *His eyebrows knot up.* Edmund it’s me, they’re all gone.
Warden: *He pulls slightly tighter around himself when he feels the pressure of someone's footsteps on the floor beside him. The pressure on his shoulder doesn't make him jump - it can't – but he feels a spike of fear, in automatic self defence he tries to strike like a cornered rat and bite the hand. In reality though, he just manages to turn slowly and gasp. And then Oncie speaks, and he forgets everything except that his knight in shining armour is here.*
Warden: *He cracks open his eyes and looks up at Oncie, his brow creased with worry, desperate to get himself moving enough to talk but unable to force it.* O-okay. *He needs those bright blue eyes so much, but they're so bright he can barely look at them. His pupils visibly shrink against them. He shuts his eyes tight again with distress, hating the grey and how close he is to everything terrible around him.*
*This is so much. The cogs in his brain try to turn, and he thinks that he wants to break the bad feelings with a joke, or a flippant comment - it's not a conscious thought, but it's what the instincts in him tell him to do. He forces himself to speak again, his voice a hushed whisper.* ...I’m s- I'm really... Really scared.
Once-ler: *Sees the way Edmund almost tries to flinch and his eyebrows knot up harder. He can't even protect himself, it's so sad. Then that recognition comes and he swallows, his stomach fluttering with sad little butterflies but fluttering nonetheless.* I- I know, I know you are. *Sighs out and immediately drops down to wrap his arms around him and bundle him up again. He knew he'd get nowhere asking for them to release him from the straight jacket, not if they won’t even let him have his glasses because he's too unpredictable apparently. He was hoping he might be able to fumble with it himself once alone, but as he hugs him and feels around the back of it, he feels the padlocks and realises that not just anyone outside of the wrapped patient himself is free to mess with it. He mentally sighs, but just becomes more kind and gentle in response.* It's okay if you're scared. *His voice becomes thick but he holds himself together.* It's okay, but you don't have to be scared now, because- because I'm here s- so you're safe, and nothing is going to hurt you or scare you anymore. *Cups his hand around the back of his head and pulls him into his shoulder, and plants a long pressed kiss into his head.*
Warden: *His arms shuffle what little they can in an unconscious attempt to reach out and hold onto Oncie, but the best he can do is curl up as close as he can into the hug. Eyes shut, surrounded by his scent, he listens to the words and slowly translates them - he has to wait for each word to pop into meaning like bubbles from the ocean floor. His body relaxes a little bit, unable to protect himself anymore - no powers, no strength, not even his special filter that means nothing is real and nothing really matters. Suddenly everything matters, and it all wants to hurt him. Except Oncie. He's still here, he didn't leave forever. He sniffs, still tearful, and nuzzles into his shoulder and the thneed still tangled up between them. That kiss sends a wave of relief and love through him, and he realises without surprise that he's crying again. He shuffles again against the jacket, not enough to be considered 'a struggle', but miserably testing what it is. In a slightly thicker voice of his own, he asks,* What did I do? *He's obviously in trouble, he obviously did something, because he's in prison. If he wasn't so addled he'd be mad on his own behalf and flailing about it again, but all he can figure right now is that everyone's upset with him except Oncie, and that doesn't feel great.*
Once-ler: *Opens his eyes wide when he's asked what he did wrong, and he doesn't know how to answer. Even if the Warden wasn't sedated and put up a good fight, he'd crack eventually. He might go feral for a bit, but these people are… ‘trained’ to handle a dangerous, damaged psych patient like him. He's the Warden to himself, he's The Once-ler's soulmate to the man holding him, but the reality is that to them he's just another severe case like so many other names on a list and fading faces in the facility rooms. Their treatment of him is completely wrong, but he’s not a stable man, that’s the reality, and right now there's a lot of reality, there isn't a lot of Edmund. A runt might try to put up a good fight with it's teeth and it's ratty snarls, but in the end it'll still drop down under the teeth of a dog bigger and scarier than it, when it’s adrenaline has worn off and it knows it can’t put up a fight, when it's instincts tell it how small it really is and that it should just conserve it's energy and lie down. Edmund, at his heart, is a meek man. The thought of him being lost here, hiding fearfully in the corner of a room away from the dogs that beat the defences out of him, just like his father did, is the worst nightmare he ever could have conjured up.*
Once-ler: *His arms grip around him tighter, tighter than the jacket, and the way he feels him weakly squirm makes his heart break. He pulls back just enough to see his face, hand still cupping the back of his head, so it isn't heavy for Edmund to hold up.* Ohh... *His eyebrows knot.* It was just... *He doesn't even know what to say. He glances down his body and starts to shuffle them so they can rest against the wall in the corner of the room where it's most secluded.* You must be cold, let me help. *He shuffles up into the corner, carrying his boyfriend slowly with him, and takes the thneed back. He lets him rest between his legs against his front while he stretches out the thneed and turns it into a blanket. His heart is pounding and he's trying to swallow down an emotional lump, then he lays the thneed blanket over Edmund and then shuffles out of his own green tailcoat and lays that over him too to create a second, heavier layer to keep the warmth in. Pressed between Oncie's front, then the thneed and Oncie's weighted jacket, he wraps his arms around him and hugs him to his chest.* There. There, that's better.
Warden: *When Oncie cups his face, he looks up into his eyes as best he can and tries to understand what he did. Deep down, beneath all of his delusions, the current sedatives, the self-denial and the fantasies, he knows he's doing bad things. But if he didn't do those bad things, he'd be doing something even worse by letting down the terrible spirit of his father. To be good he has to be a good prison warden, and a good prison warden is vicious, cruel and controlling. But, because he's always been an empathetic baby, he knows that to be vicious, cruel and controlling makes people hate you and makes you a bad person. He can't win. There is no condition where everyone likes him and is pleased with him, so the only conclusion he has ever been able to come to is that he's just an inherently bad human being. But that's okay if he's louder than everyone else, insists to everyone else that he isn’t until he’s *delusional*, and tries to make them happy occasionally by making things fun. That's why he includes the prisoners in his science fairs and vacations and car races – bad, boring wardens wouldn’t do that, right?*
 *His expression breaks, tears filling his eyes as his mouth quivers and devastation spreads across his features. When he was a little boy, the scariest thing in the world was the thought of being abandoned for being bad. Now, here, it feels like reality itself is doing just that - he's been shoved out the way and left behind. He clamps up and tries not to make a sound, in case that's bad too.*
*He's completely pliable as Oncie moves them, trying to help but he can only move his legs and he can't move them much. When they settle, though, and he's covered in layers of warm weight and held all tightly in his protector's arms, reality feels that bit further away and he remembers that he's not been abandoned. Not fully, not by everyone.* *With a little bleat, he nods. It is better. His bare feet push against the cold floor beneath the blankets so that he's pushed against Oncie's front.* *After a moment, he finds the words to say.* Whatever I did... I- I didn't mean to... *That's a lie. But he'd do anything to be kept.*
Once-ler: *Feels his heart break when he sees the tears and tries to catch them with his thumb as he cups his cheek. He hugs him to his front, treasuring him like he's the only teddy-bear his parents have ever been able to afford, and clinging to him like a child hiding from the shadows in a wardrobe. Gasps at his words and whispers.* You didn't- It was an accide- it was a mistake- *He feels distinctly, innocently, devastated and sick to his stomach with guilt and worry, in an almost confused way that a juvenile would. As if he's at fault of doing something so bad to the younger kid living next door, who he often goes out to play with, but it's also his responsibility to take care of. But this time he convinced him to jump into the lake, climb too far up a tree, go too close to a wild animal, and it's his fault now that something terrible happened to him, and he's terrified of being told off by both their mom’s. So he just hides in the woods with him, trying to fix it and not knowing how, and just telling him that he's okay and everything will be fine, but he also feels sick with horror. His voice breaks.* But- but I'm going to fix it- I will! I'll fix it!
*He gasps as tears form in his own eyes and he curls around him. He's letting him down, he can't do anything right, he can't even get him out of this place in a city that be basically owns.* I- I'm so sorry- It's my fault. *His expression breaks down and he pulls him to his front, hooking his head over his shoulder and shaking it with guilt. He's useless. He can't even protect him from his own damn city.* I'm sorry, I'm s- so, so sorry, Edmund. I'm so sorry.
Warden: *He nuzzles against him, drying his tears on Oncie's front and pressing against him for safety until his muscles start to soften - he can't keep the effort up for very long, but he always stays hugged up in his arms. He lets out a soft hiccup when he hears that it was an accident, or a mistake, whatever it was. He can't remember how he ended up here - every memory is fuzzy and indistinct like a dream that fades faster the more he tries to grasp for it - but at least Oncie doesn't blame him. Right now that's the very final thing that matters, like the last star still burning in the sky. Everything else has failed, but Oncie is always there, and he never leaves him.*
*He doesn't quite understand when Oncie says he'll 'fix it'. He doesn't know what there is to fix, because prison is an inevitable force that can't be changed. It's like saying you'll fix a sunset. His eyes crack open again, wet eyelashes fluttering against his boyfriend's neck while his own dears don’t cease.* Hm? *The cogs try to turn again.* W-Why? *His voice is hushed, but it's still his usual loopy, lyrical lisp, with a quiver of sadness.* You're here. *That is the only thing that matters. The only thing.*
Once-ler: *Looks down at him with wet eyelashes too.* Because, well because you're still here too and I think it's my fault you are. *He sniffs and begins wiping the Warden's tears away with his hand, since he can't do it himself.* But- but like I said, I'll fix it. *He makes sure not to talk too quickly, to let the words sink in.* I'm going to take you back home, I'm going to make you feel better. It just- *he hiccups as another tear appears and he wipes it away on his shoulder,* It just won't be right now. But I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here with you until I can make everything okay again- and then forever after that.
Warden: *He looks up at Oncie with half-lidded eyes, still tight enough in the corners that the middle-aged creases around them are visible, but more relaxed than they have been thus far. He blinks slowly when Oncie wipes his tears away, foggy from the sedatives, believing everything he says because he has no choice but to do so, and trusting him because how could he not? He knows in his heart that nobody should like him enough to be here, but Oncie is because they're in love.*
*His subconscious can't quite believe it when he's told they're going to get out of here, not because he doesn't trust Oncie but because he's never known a reality where a prison wasn't an ultimate and inescapable thing. If he was sober he'd believe him, but he can't right now. However, when he says he'll be with him forever 'after that'... something shifts. To hear that Oncie wants to be with him forever shakes up the foundations he otherwise fully believed in, and the idea that there might be a forever after this suddenly becomes plausible. His eyes widen just a little bit more - even as glassy as they are - and a smile slowly spreads across his face, welling up with hopeful, emotional, grief-stricken tears as raw feeling is able to bleed up through the sedation.* Ye... yeah? *He sounds so hopeful, and with the tone of a soldier wanting someone to keep talking to him as he bleeds out on the battlefield, his chest shuddering with emotional hiccups. Nuzzled up against him, able to feel his heartbeat and bury in his scent, looking up at him and hearing his voice - if he can't have his glasses, he can put a new barrier between himself and the rest of reality.*
Once-ler: *His heart breaks and clutches at the hope in the Warden's voice, seeing him smile makes some ray of hope bloom in him too. Nothing can stop the happiness that the Warden brings to the Once-ler when he smiles, no amount of sedatives or guilt, when the man shows that grin, shows the cute gap in his teeth and has that hope in his eyes, it can’t stop Oncie from smiling back to greet him. As his eyes well up again with painful love at the way the Warden’s overflow, he smiles a little too.* Ye-hes...* He almost sobs out silently, between his quivering, smiling lips. He sniffs, then leans in slowly, gently cups Edmunds cheek to tilt towards him, and presses his lips to his. The kiss lingers in softness, barely any pressure applied but the sentiment still clear. His arms squeeze him tenderly a little bit, and after he pulls away he gazes into his eyes and replies in a low voice.* Yes. I promise.
Warden: *He drinks in Oncie's smile like it's sunlight, fortifying him a little better and feeding that faith that everything is going to be alright. He can't envision what it might look like (which spooks him, because he has a very vivid imagination) but he believes that he'll feel better soon. Like a feedback loop, Oncie's returned smile only makes his bigger too. Then they kiss, and under the sedatives it feels like his stomach has erupted like an underwater volcano, something hot and wild and frantically desperate, dampened by a thick layer of vacuum, but unmistakeably there. It feels like he’s been kissed for the very first time, by the only person he’ll love for the rest of his life. It takes him a second to react before his lips twitch and then he's kissing back too - with a similar light pressure, but still very much a presence. Oncie is here, and Oncie loves him, he’s been saved. They draw back, and he looks up at him with utter trust, wide and glassy-eyed, but believing in him as the most powerful force of nature to exist. His eyes might be foggy, but his smile shines through for him.*
Once-ler: *Pulls away from the kiss and adores the smile on Edmunds face. He desperately needs that belief- because no-one else has ever believed in him. Strokes his thumb over his cheek as he cups his face and he gazes into his eyes, wiping away some more tears for his boyfriend. His eyebrows knot up as he blinks his own away and he sighs out sadly.* My little bunny... *Kisses his forehead again and tilts his head in concern, squinting his own eyes as if trying to stop them from being so bright, because he knows they're bright for the Warden without his glasses.* Do your eyes hurt?
Warden: *The combination of Oncie's gentle handling, the safe weight of the covers and the kind tone of his voice softens the Warden's body until he's a warm, heavy weight against his front. He still squints as he looks up into Oncie's eyes, but he doesn't want to lose him by shutting his own.* *It takes him a moment to translate the question, especially since he's still glowing over the kind and loving pet-name, but then he replies quietly,* Mmhmm... a little. *He doesn't care anymore, though. As long as his world is so small that it's only the two of them, he can survive even if they do ache.* I-it's okay.
Once-ler: *Eyebrows knot up in sympathy.* I can't get your glasses but- *Reaches up above his top hat where his sunglasses rest on his head and takes them, while also removing his hat and placing it down.* You can wear mine if it makes you more comfortable. *He helps him try them on, knowing that they're not yellow lenses so can't make anything warmer, but they are dark and so might helps soothe some of the brightness or overwhelming peripheral vision. The weight of glasses on his face might also just provide something of a placebo effect, who knows?* Does that feel better, or no?
Warden: *He watches with glassy docility as Oncie places the glasses on his face, and as darkness falls over his vision he blinks in curiosity. Then the unseen tension in his shoulders relax and the lines around his eyes soften. That feels much better - even if they still aren't right and don't make him feel like he's in his own little fantasy world, he does at least have the separation and some rest for his weak eyes.*
*He smiles up at him from behind his sunglasses, looking quite the picture in his colourless hospital clothes, restraints, and Oncie's sunglasses.* Much better. *He shuffles against him, unable to inch any closer but just wanting to feel the action of drawing nearer to him anyway.* Thank you... *He thanks him as innocently as a child knowing to be polite, but with all the love they share together.*
Once-ler: *Gently smiles when he sees that it's made him feel somewhat better.* Good~ *Leans down and kisses his forehead.* You're welcome. *His stomach squirms as he feels Edmund shift and for a moment wonders if he's uncomfortable, but then he settles against him.* They suit you. *He says with a quiet chuckle, wanting to ease some tension with a playful compliment.
Warden: *Blinks at Oncie with his own, slightly delirious, giggle. He looks up at him with endless gratitude, even just for the slight attempt at play with the compliment, because any amount of play is a good distraction away from bad feelings for the Warden.*
Once-ler: *He smiles back with depth behind his gaze. His heart then skips a beat as he thinks about saying it again, and maybe hearing it back, although he wouldn't worry if he doesn't because knows now that he's capable of it at least. His arms squeeze around him gently, lovingly and he mumbles by his ear.* I love you.
Warden: *He's so glad he's squeezed back, too. He wants that tangible sense of being as close as possible, so his senses are full with the fact that he's protected - because it's really spooky being unable to do anything to defend himself. When he hears those three words again, his body rises with a deep breath of relief and a rush of giddy - if woozy - happiness. Hearing those words still doesn't feel real, those words never applied to him before this man came along, and on some foggy level he understands that even now in all this bad feeling Oncie still wants him enough to be here and say that. Emotion rises in the back of his throat and for a moment his heart flutters. He loves him too.*
*He wants to say those words back. In the addled and muzzy confusion of the past few hours, he's not sure if he's ever been able to or not, but those are also dangerous words that might mean something very bad happens if he says them out loud. He doesn't want to bring down an axe on Oncie right when they're at their weakest, but at the same time he wants to say it so bad.* I-I... *He swallows, then quickly nods as a lump rises in his throat. Silently, he begs Oncie to understand.*
Once-ler: *His hand rises into the Warden's hair and he strokes his fingers through it. He smiles as he watches him try to reply, and doesn't force him, the fact that he's trying to is proof enough, it always has been. His stomach flutters and he leans down to press his lips against his head. He adds quietly when the Warden stops himself.* I know.
Warden: *He's so relieved to hear that Oncie doesn't need him to say it. If he did, the pressure would be too much, especially right now, and he wouldn't know what to do to make it go away. As it is, rather than struggle with the darkness, he's able to float in his arms, and even though he's far from home and can't move his body and doesn't know what to do, he's still kind of cosy. Even a little bit happy.*
*A few moments ago, he said those words because he wasn't sure if he'd ever see Oncie again, and if Oncie was getting away from him then... he was escaping, so maybe he'd hear them and wouldn't be hurt. That was the thought process, the desperation, that managed to coax those words out of him. As he clings to his soulmate's front as best he can, calmer and more aware that they're both here and both 'in danger', he isn't sure they have that freedom. A big man with an axe might enter at any moment. But somehow he still feels like Oncie might be a bigger man. He tilts his head closer to Oncie's chest and says very quietly, forcing the words forward,* A-are we safe?
Once-ler: *His hand comes round and clutches his head protectively when he feels him tilt towards his chest, and when he asks that question he opens his mouth to reply, but then a quick knock taps against the door and the sound of locks clicking with keys echoes through. His attention flicks to it and his grip tightens around Edmund, not to worry him but to make him aware he's protected. He stares towards the incoming sound like a wolf ready to pounce with sharp eyes, ready to snarl at the threat. But he suddenly remembers to collect himself.*
*The knock isn't so much of a request to enter as it is a warning someone is entering, the kind of half assed knock an aged mother gives on her teenage sons bedroom door before sweeping in to dump a pile of laundry on the bed. It's not so much of a knock and entry as it is two hard taps and the immediate creak of the metal hospital door as it sweeps open and white light floods through. An older, plumper woman enters with a younger nurse by her side. The former has been a carer for forty years, the latter didn't want to come back here alone.*
Older nurse: Evenin' Mr. Once-ler, sorry to disturb, but we've brought the overnight stuff by instruction of Dr. Zazzerzump. *She has bags under her eyes, her voice is nasally and she speaks her words with a slow drawl. She's a chunky, round figure and is the type of old nurse who has changed so many bedpans over the years that nothing disgusts or surprises her anymore. Although some patients occasionally do, including this one, but she's good at brushing it off and getting on with her job.* C'mon Lissie! *She enters further into the room holding a large roll of bedding like a lady Viking shifting a boulder. Lessie, a younger, fairly new nurse shuffles in hesitantly after her with pillows.* Do you want it assem-ba-lin' for you, Sir?
Warden: *Suddenly there's noise and voices and loud rattling, and it hits him all wrong because his brain can't process things properly right now. If he was by himself he'd panic and fear would strike and thrash him at them like a prey animal caught in a net. Flinching at and away from them somewhere between impulsive attempts to snap defensively and simply shriek from fright- or, that's what he'd think he'd be doing. In reality the sedative is too much to let him do anything shake out of fear and try to hiss. But his instincts are different now that there's someone else to take care of him, a bigger predator able to fight for him, and so that panicked, protective aggression doesn't trigger. Instead, he's just terrified and begging for rescue. He yelps at the sudden noise, and instinctively dives further against Oncie as if he were trying to dig himself into the ground. His body can be felt to begin to shake, and his hands tighten under his restraints as he grips onto himself in an automatic attempt to protect his organs. He lets out a small sound of fear and manages to dig his heel into the ground and shove himself as hard as he can into Oncie's arms, trying to hide in him like a deer hiding between the legs of a stag.*
Once-ler: *Is frowning towards the noise, but he blinks at the Warden's sudden rustling and hiding and feels his heart clutch in his chest as the same rate his hands clutch around him. His gaze snaps towards the door, now not so furious because things are more in his control and he has his soulmate back in his arms, but still protective. He assumes it's nurses returning to drop off the overnight accommodations he was promised, but Edmund doesn't have enough comprehension of what's happening to understand that's all this is. He pulls him into his front, hiding his face in his chest as he holds his hand against the back of his head and pulls their makeshift covers up a little more over him. He feels the shaking and hears the sound, and as his stomach clenches he can't help but whisper down to him that he's okay. Then he orders at the women.* No, just drop them down there and go. I'll do them myself.
Warden: *He's tense - really, really tense - as he grits his teeth and tries to block out the fact that reality is once again intruding on his world just when it was starting to arrange itself in a tiny little bubble he could kind of begin to handle. He was okay, for a second when it was just them. But the noise leaves him exposed to the real world again, to people who threaten everything about him. Even them just looking at him means he's not The Warden, which is the only thing his mind can deal with.*
*He's not sure if he'll end up bending his sunglasses with the force he's putting on them as he buries himself in Oncie's front. His arms shove, just once, in a panicked attempt to grab around his boyfriend's waist or flail at oncoming danger, but it's not strong and the jacket prevents anything from really happening. He can hear his breathing squeak, but he does at least calm a little bit when he hears Oncie talk to him. He stops his minute attempts at struggling, though his heart still flutters and he still freezes against him like a rabbit caught in an open field.*
Older Nurse: *Shrugs and drops the things on the floor. Lissie does the same, dropping down the pillows and a bag containing some overnight supplies. She grumbles on her way out barely heard.* A 'thank you' would be nice… Young men these days-
Nurse Lessie: *Nudges the older nurse and points over to the Warden. Whispers to her.* Nurse Julie, is that allowed?
Warden: *He doesn't really follow what they're saying, but he recognises the tones enough to hear when they drop the things on the floor - which makes him jump anyway - and start to leave. He begins to soften, just a little, but then they start talking again and he kicks at the ground beneath the covers and whispers Oncie's name in the smallest voice, begging him to make them go away.*
Once-ler: *He feels the pressure against him and doesn't care if his sunglasses are bent so long as they don't end up hurting the Warden himself. The kicking and the little whisper of his name only makes that anger surge up harder because now he's responding to his soulmates fear and feels anxious to defend his space. He just made a warm nest for him and they're invading it.*
Nurse Julie: *Huffs and looks over with her hand on her hips, adjusting her own glasses when she notices the new ones on the Warden.* Sir, I can't say that won't count as contraband like his own if he's-
Once-ler: *Is currently hooking his chin over the Warden's head and stroking his back with his hand under the coat and thneed. He rolls his eyes and snaps at her, the demand barked and final.* Just get out.
Warden: *Flinches at the sudden loud voice, his common sense even more inhibited with the sedatives and therefore his learned behaviour responds instinctively with a flinch to the shout of the angry man. But a split second later, he recognises the voice as his Oncie, which makes sense because the shout was very close and Oncie is hugging him right now, and that flinch immediately settles because he knows he’s being protected. Oncie is so powerful and has such a presence, he’d recognise that voice of his anywhere, it’s the voice that shows strength and makes demands around Superjail despite everything. Even in the jaws of Superjail, Oncie is still a force to be reckoned with. For some reason, that foggy thought almost makes his throat close up.*
Nurse Julie: *Rolls her eyes and shrugs as she turns and then leads Lessie out of the room.* There, that's your answer. *They close it all back up and leave them in peace.*
The Once-ler: *Once the women are gone, his attention immediately turns back to the man in his arms, even if a part of him is still watching their surroundings so that Edmund knows someone is.* Hey, hey, it's okay, they're gone. *He curls around him and rubs his lips against his head, speaking in a softer voice.* You're safe now.
Warden: *He's shaking like a leaf when the door shuts, eyes clenched shut, and realising beneath everything that he's in a really, really bad place, and that for him to be in this really bad place, something really has gone wrong. A certain existential understanding falls over him, but he doesn't have the processing power to handle it. He's actually in trouble. This is a situation that might not just go away like a sickness or a nightmare, but this might mean his life has really changed permanently. His eyes fly open and he looks up at Oncie like he's desperate to see something other than the terrible world he's landed himself in, and he whispers the word that signals that he wants everything to stop. His white flag, his safe-word, the sign that he wants to be in his bed now, and for the ride to stop so he can get off.* I'm sorry. *His voice is barely audible, but his expression is a mask of anguish. He pants with the appearance of falling into a pain-induced panic.* I'm so sorry.
Once-ler: *The shaking only makes him grip harder, as if it might keep him stable, especially at the way Edmund tries to hug for him but just can't. All he can do is hold him back with more strength, and at the least it keeps him warm so the chill doesn't make the shaking worse. Then he feels him lift his head and so he looks back down to him, and that expression of complete, traumatised surrender breaks his heart so hard that it makes him gasp out loud. Then those words come, and he loses his own. He doesn't know what to say, he feels his tongue go cold with a kind of horrified nausea. He shakes his head, eyes wide with knotted eyebrows as he gazes into his eyes and tries to just understand what he means.*
*Something in his expression, in his eyes, is telling him and he thinks he might just see the existential anguish in them. He just wants it to stop, he knows he's been bad - because he's in a bad place, and that's how he knows it works - but he doesn't quite know or remember what he's done. But he feels it, and he'll just apologise for anything, to anyone, to hope it might make the pain go away, that it might stop the punishment. When has he ever offered that grace to anyone himself? Maybe he doesn't even know it's an option, which makes this even more devastating if it's just a broken last cry for help that he knows is hopeless. Nevertheless, what he begs for is a thing that, in his childhood and world view, has always been nothing but an inconceivable idea that’s as real as the Easter bunny. That thing is mercy.*
*He sighs out a shuddering pained breath and cups his face gently with his hand.* Ohh... Bunny... *He swallows, feeling a small lump in his throat. He can only think of one thing to say, whether or not it's appropriate to come from him. None of this seems personal, none of it seems specific, it's all just highly emotional and much like Edmund will say anything to make the punishment end, Oncie will say whatever he needs to hear to ease him in this moment.* I forgive you. *He pulls him into his shoulder and curls around him, his knees coming up even more to cradle him.* You're forgiven. I can't make the bad things stop right now but I can promise you that you're not in trouble, not with me. You were never in trouble with me. *He kisses the side of his head a few times* And I'm staying here, and as long as I'm here with you, you're in a place where you're not in danger, you're not in trouble and you're not being punished, even if you're upset and hurting.
Warden: *His wide eyes stare up through the sunglasses and lock onto Oncie's, desperate for them. When his hand cups his face, he tilts into it so that his cheek is slightly smushed by his palm, a sliver of his teeth visible between parted lips, and big, terrified eyes filling with tears. When Oncie says those words, for a moment his world stops. His eyes can't pull any wider, but his breath pauses and something settles deep down in him - the little motor that had been driving him to higher and higher panic, telling him that he was in trouble and to run. When he hears that he's forgiven, it starts to very carefully melt down.*
*He's pulled in, and again he tries to hard to hug back but the best he can do is press against him and nuzzle into his warm embrace. His eyes don't shut but they do tighten as tears fall again, and he watches Oncie from the hug like he doesn't dare turn away and find out that he's a figment of a dream. He hears Oncie tell him that he's not in trouble, that he's never been in trouble with Oncie, and that he's going to stay here. That he's not in danger and he's not going to be hurt even though he doesn't feel good. A little bleat splutters out of him as he absorbs those kisses, needing them so badly.*
*'Forgiveness' has never been a word in the Warden's vocabulary. In day-to-day life, sure, he'll forgive a slight. He'll forgive his friends for mistakes and accidents, or deliberately pretend they don't hate him if they do something that hurts, but that's not mercy. Mercy is different. He's never once granted mercy to a prisoner without an ulterior motive. The only other time he ever showed mercy was when he dared to feed that puppy, and they both know what happened after that. Justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin, but he's never flipped his over. His father never flipped it over either - all he's ever known is black-and-white punishment for crimes. Mercy is ‘cheating’, as his Father would think. But he's so scared, and he'd do anything to make the fear go away. He'll cheat if he has to, not realising that he's not 'cheating', but genuinely crying out for help because his mind and sanity are still fighting for a shred of survival and he’s too small and weak to do it himself. His whisper of those words might as well be a scream from a burning building.*
Once-ler: *He doesn't realise that what the Warden’s psychology really reads is him granting him mercy, although that is the truth to what Oncie is offering him. Because as Edmund begs the universe for mercy in his moment of pain, the universe has granted it to him in the form of The Once-ler. Out of everything around him, this is the kind offering, the acceptance of the white flag, the hearing of the safe word and the offer to help cease the pain. That doesn't mean he can change the rest of his situation, but one corner of this situation is merciful. He does consciously know forgiveness however. He knows guilt and he knows how much freedom forgiveness can bring a person, because he knows that he himself would still be in a terrible place had the Lorax not forgiven him for all he'd done.*
Warden: *After a moment, he gives a pitiful nod. With a wet, little laugh he nuzzles his nose into his neck. He's still scared, but as Oncie insists on those promises, the dread begins to lift. He plants a gentle kiss against him.*
The Once-ler: *That lump in his throat grows as he sees the Warden's reaction, but he stays strong, his stomach flutters at the gentle kiss against him and he bundles him up in a little squirm. They couldn't be closer but he still wants him to feel cuddled.* You're safe, Edmund, it's just you and me, and nothing can hurt you when I'm with you. *His voice is low and soft and he kisses his head again.* I love you. *He pulls back just enough to look at him and cup his face, he smiles softly, wiping a tear from his cheek with his thumb.* And in a moment I'm going to wrap us up in that soft blanket, lie us down in the pillows, and we're going to cuddle up together all night. Now that doesn't sound much like punishment, huh?
Warden: *The fear leaves him in layers, each one peeling away or falling to dust, one-by-one as Oncie handles him so tenderly. The existential dread leaves him first, as Oncie promises him that he's not in trouble and reminds him that even if he's uncomfortable, he's not going to be harmed by anyone so long as he's here. Beneath that is an animal tension, ready to spring and try to run or try to defend himself, or cry for help as his instincts prepare for a wolf attack. He's so vulnerable, and he knows it, that he's been flooding himself with adrenaline that's been battling the sedatives in his bloodstream for what must be hours. As he's cuddled up and as Oncie gives him a warm place to curl, as he kisses him and cups his face and says he'll always protect him, that slowly falls away as well.*
*Soon he's left only with the fear at the very bottom of it all, that will probably not go away until they get out of this place. That fear is manageable - it's just an undercurrent of knowledge that he hasn't got his shield and that life is scary and that he's not in Superjail anymore, and that can be carried so long as he's not left by himself. As long as Oncie is handling everything else, he can handle that.*
*It takes him a second for Oncie's words to sink through the fog, but then he nods with a weary, relieved smile, even a little chuckle in his voice.* Mmhmm~ *The smile pushes a final tear down his cheek and over Oncie's thumb, and he blushes ever-so-slightly pink when he's told that he loves him. Soft blankets and a warm bed sound very good right about now.*
Once-ler: *Lets out a soft, loving hum of laughter that's only just audible. His own chest doesn't feel quite as panicked anymore even though he still wants to get Edmund out of here as fast as possible. He's accepted what he can't change and is focusing in what he can control, and now that he can tell his boyfriend's heart rate is calming down, his own is relaxing too and becomes a calm thud against Edmund's front. A hand slides into his hair and he pulls him gently down under his chin and rests his lips against his head as he softly draws his fingertips through his hair in rhythmic circles. He loves him, more than anything in the world, he loves him, so even if Edmund couldn't be released in some ridiculous universe where the Once-ler doesn't get what he wants, he'd stay here in this room with him for an eternity. He whispers.* We'll stay here a moment and then I'll sort the bed out, okay? *He kisses his head, and just so soothe him a little more, he starts to slowly hum a little jingle he once made up about Thneeds and how everybody needs one.*
Warden: *His eyes close as Oncie's hand slides into his hair, his senses still trying to be alert for danger but failing as a sense of comfort, of utter relief, overwhelms him. He curls up under his partner's chin as he's guided, and a few more tears fall down his face - healing tears after a long day fraught with terror, rather than the cry for help they were before. He makes a soft sound that he understands, when Oncie tells him he'll move in a moment to get things sorted, and the softest, most musical little laugh escapes him when he hears that jingle. If he's playing, they really must be okay.*
*The fear fades as his world becomes encapsulated in the Once-ler's arms, and the emotions rush in slowly but surely, like an avalanche of honey. He adores this man. He needs him more than he has ever needed anything else, because he's saving him - not just protecting him like his glasses or his prison. His lips quiver with just how intensely and just how truly those emotions hit, and after a moment he pushes his face into Oncie's neck to whisper words that would normally be so terrifying but right now feel like the only things that matter.* I-I... *His voice is so quiet, not wanting the universe to hear his confession of guilt and weakness, because these words were always treated like that's what they were. But if Oncie has the power to make even mercy exist, then maybe he’s right, maybe his Father was also wrong about those three words. He said them already, in a fit of desperation that he only half-understands, but he says them now like it's a secret he's privileged to keep.* …*He takes a soft, deep breath and pushes himself harder into his arms.* I-I love you...
Once-ler: *He's happily curled around his boyfriend, loving the way he nestles into his neck and starts to calm down. When he starts to speak, he thinks he's about to try and ask or say something else; it's only when he actually says the words that it surprises him.*
*He wasn't expecting to hear the response, but he realises that Edmund finally feels safe enough to say it, because he's here with him. His chest clutches, time slows down again and he feels a lump in his throat that makes emotional, incredulous tears appear in his eyes again. He sniffs and lets out a quiet breath of laughter, grinning from ear to ear. His heart can be felt racing, hammering in his chest with a rush of joy and excitement despite the terrible circumstances they're in. This could be the most happiest he's felt in a long time, despite them both being in the most awful nightmare, all because he adores this man more than life itself and the man has the courage to tell him the same, finally. He sniffs and leans in, nuzzling his nose just under his cheek to gently tilt his face like a kind, larger animal shifting a smaller one.* I love you too, Bunny.
*He meets his lips and they press together, his own parting slightly and softly to linger against his with a few nuzzling smooches, as his arms squeeze around him with the same strength of push that Edmund presses into him. He doesn't overwhelm him, but he does consume his meekness with affection and adoration, surrounding him with his arms and capturing his lips like a flurry of flowers blooming against his skin. He tilts his head into it and lets out a soft sigh as a tear rolls down his cheek. As he pulls away he gazes into the Warden's eyes, the pair of them both tear-filled over their love for each other and he smiles. He grins and whispers* I love you too.
Warden: *It takes a moment, but when Oncie kisses him his lips respond in kind, his heart beating like a fluttering bird in the cage of his ribs, and his cheeks blooming with more colour. They part just a little bit and brush against him, as slow and earnest as a leaf bending for the sun. He bends with the gentle, primal nudge of his face, and dares to crack open his eyes to gaze up at him. The corners of his mouth weakly pull into a broad smile, all the more quavering but all the happier when they're said to him again.*
*He's so happy to hear those words returned, because even though he's certain of their love, he isn't certain about those words, and there's always a chance that they could magically make everything terrible if he's heard to say them out loud. Oncie's voice, however, is bigger than his is, and it's like he drowns out all the threats and dangers that start to clamour for his mind the moment he says the same thing.*
The Once-ler: *The Once-ler closes his eyes and pulls Edmund under his chin again, he begins pressing repeated kisses into his head and around his face, slowly and softly so he's not overwhelmed, but showering him in love still, and holding him like he's the most valuable thing the Once-ler has ever worked so hard to earn. And then, he rests his cheek on his head, safely tucked under his chin, within the warm comfort of his makeshift covers. They rest in the moment, they can face the world again together tomorrow, right now, all that matters is that they’re back together and nothing will pull the Once-ler’s greatest treasure from his greedy, loving hands.*
Warden: *He closes his eyes as he's tucked under Oncie's chin, his whole body melting against him, relying on him entirely to bear his weight. That is, until Oncie starts to push those gentle kisses into his head and face, his drugged senses reading that movement as he would a flurry of kisses if he were at his best. His feet give a very weak and heavy kick of delight as a breathy, lyrical laugh falls from him, delighted at so much fuss and adoration. The Once-ler came back for him, and that’s the only thing that matters. He's loved, and he loves, and even though everything seems to have gone wrong, and even though the whole world seems to hate him right now, and even though the loud, angry, scary voice in his head would disagree, that love is the only thing that matters.*
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fishareglorious · 2 days
Text
In the wake of the new pizza hut collab and that one specific emote of schneider threateningly looming behind pizza hut regulus with a gun, I got possessed and created an au where ezra, matilda and regulus work with each other in the same branch.
May or may not have gotten carried away with it. AU below.
matilda is the long suffering branch manager that doesn't even want to work there. this poor french girl is really going through it (customer service)
alas she stays because of a certain redheaded customer. sonetto visits sometimes to check on regulus and that the store is relatively close to where she lives.
matilda constantly five seconds away from firing everyone and handing out her resignation but then sonetto walks inside and suddenly everything is good (sotheby just accidentally created ketamine in the back)
she hates her job because all the people that visit here are fucking lunatics.
ezra is the least problematic of the employees and he sometimes supplies the mushrooms because of his mycology hobby, but one time he accidentally switched up the button mushrooms with similar-looking hallucinogenic ones and matilda put a stop into it because a customer got high (desert flannel)
kanjira is their one and only delivery driver and while she drives matilda up the wall by always stealing from the cash register, she'd terrifyingly efficient and fast with her deliveries (at the expense of being a menace in the highway)
regulus works as an all-rounder but sometimes takes kanjira's place whenever she's not around. she always gets a traffic ticket. she and kanjira are in a competition on who can amass the most
apple is here and is the only other voice of reason working in this place. matilda respects him because he's the only one that can rein in regulus
The one story that started this whole AU. sorry schneider's dead in this universe
one day vertin comes around to catch up with regulus. regulus was on the process of serving pineapple pizza when suddenly someone appears behind her to chop her in the neck and curses her out in the most horrific ear-bleeding italian. vertin catches a glimpse of regulus' attacker, then crumples into the floor in shock because its her dead mafia girlfriend.
matilda comes to the scene only to see regulus passed out and vertin silently weeping on the floor.
someone still has to serve the damn pizza. fucks sake.
after the pineapple pizza incident there's now a ghost haunting the store that really really has an agenda against pineapple pizza. at this point matilda is very much inclined to blackout the hawaiian in the menu just to placate the damn ghost.
A comprehensive list of all the weirdos that come in here:
there's an absolutely pleasant and nice lady that sometimes eats here but the thing is she has this thing where she puts yellow bug things in her pizza as some kind of condiment and its so damn weird because those things are still ALIVE. but she gets a pass because she's done no trouble and is nice to everyone
one time the store had a break in and for some reason all the greens in the inventory were eaten. everyone checks the security cameras. it was. it was a fucking deer.
(yes, jessica is an actual deer here.)
constantine came here once only to pull the "i demand to speak to your manager" thing
pickles at one point ordered something here by himself. in the words of regulus: what the dawg doin?
ezra's collegemates (the laplace crew) sometimes visit and its a hit or miss depending on who is it
the last time x came here the stove got legs and sentience then it left pizza hut and never came back. some say it became a famous track and field runner
medicine pocket was banned like. years ago even before matilda started working here. does it stop her? no. he caught wind of sotheby's ketamine thing and tried to recruit her at one point. matilda chased them off with a spray bottle.
mesmer jr is the least chaos-inducing person of the group but at the same time because of the childhood friends that have baggage with matilda the tension between then is. frankly you could cut through it with a knife
one time she, vertin, and matilda were in the same proximity and regulus passed by and started asphyxiating
sometimes their research advisor enigma gets dragged here because someone has to feed him something other than his twentieth cup of black coffee. matilda has beef with him for some reason.
the only people matilda remotely respects that has entered this pizza hut is shamane and kaalaa baunna
but at the same time she has witnessed kaalaa stumble here at an insanely late/early hour with three giant cups of coffee then proceeded to chug all of it down then order something. she is visibly shaking from the caffiene. matilda is scared.
matilda called shamane 'dad' once and after that she has sworn to never show her face to him again
pavia exists here but keeps a wide berth of pizza hut because it contains the insult to italian cuisine
one time a foreign singer (isolde) came here to have lunch with her wife then got possessed by schneider and started angrily lambasting and threatening to haunt everyone from the grave if they've ever dared to eat pineapple pizza. she later passed out then woke up all normal again
lilya is also on the pizza hut blacklist because she crashed her motorcycle into the windows trying to pick vertin up
broke as hell researcher windsong stumbles into pizza hut with the biggest smile on her face as if she won the lottery (she did. it was the amount of the cheapest thing in the menu) then proceeds to hork down her food like she's starving (she probably was.) fun fact this is inspired by her voiceline that is basically the same story
bear with me on my vilasong propaganda for a sec.
local schoolteacher vila comes into the store because her student wandered off and is now talking windsong's ear off, and then the two have this weird but sweet meetcute that's almost the same as canon
windosng tells her "oh god hey i swear im not a child abductor" then vila just laughs and fucking sniffs her and says "yeah i know you don't smell threatening at all."
they are both so strange. next time they come together hand in hand.
matilda is malding can't she have a nice meetcute like that with sonetto (minus the whole. child abduction statement. and the sniffing thing. actually she just wants a normal nice meetcute)
37 came there with the aperion gang and all she did was calculate the precise circumference of the pizza and then tell the matilda it was an imperfect circle. matilda then says 'do i look like i give two shits about whether or not this is a perfect circle. fuck you want me to do' but in customer service language
would arcana even step inside a pizza hut.
a knight sometimes comes here and he and apple are the investments in pizza hut's old men yaoi stocks.
hofmann and marcus came in once and marcus was the one trying to order but the poor thing kept stuttering so badly that hofmann heaved out the most world-weary sigh and ordered for both of them
besmir came in there once while vertin was there and vertin shot up from her seat and went 'MOTHER???!?!??!?!?!!!!!!!!" and thus came the most awkward family reunion that happened. (regulus screamed out "SO YOU HAVE A MOTHER" while the two were watching each other awkwardly not knowing what to do)
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monisahyo · 18 hours
Note
Hiiii👋🏽
Idk if this is a good idea or not but I’m all about Natasha getting the love and life she deserves so could you write a fic about her and reader retiring from the Avengers and getting an apartment/house together. It’d be so cute to see Nat and Reader being domestic with each other and stuff.
Also, congratulations on starting your blog! I can’t wait to read your stories and stuff☺️
Summary: after your retirement, you just want to spend some time with your lovely girlfriend natasha.
Warnings: intended lowercase, fluff (a little bit if you squint your eyes)
A/N: omg thank you so much for this request. i hope i could somehow write what you had in your mind. also i'm sorry if this is a little bit short or not containing as much fluff as expected i'm just really bad at writing this stuff. i hope i can learn it fast tho!!
after signing the retirement papers, you were ready to go home. but first, you needed to do some things first.
picking up the last things from your desk and moving them into a box, you find a picture frame with a group photo of the avengers. all of them. seeing this your eyes are starting to fill with tears and memories of the good old days are flooding your brain. taking a napkin and wiping away the tears, you are ready to leave this part of your life behind and finally move in together with your girlfriend - natasha.
outside the avengers campis you turn around or the last time. "ahh shit, i'm gonna miss this place" and with these being your last words, your turn around and drive home to your apartment.
after a 20 minute drive you finally arrive at your destination. just being able to enter your home and knowing you won't have to fear for the love of you life is a relief.
twisting the keys and opening the door, you notice that the lights are switched off and there is no sign of life in your apartment. "honey! i'm home", after a few minutes and still no answer you start to get worried and roam around the living room looking for your girlfriend. suddenly you smell something. it smells like something is being cooked. you rush to the kitchen when you notice natasha standing at the counter. she is wearing headphones and probably listening to music so she isn't hearing you. sneaking up on her you put your hands on each side of her waist and get as close to her as you possibly can. you expected her flinching so you press a kiss on her cheek and take of her headphones.
"hey baby" you whisper in her ear. "geez, do you have to scare me like that!" she says putting the knife on the counter and turning around. now facing you, she puts her arms on your shoulders and presses light kisses onto your lips. "what have you been up to?" you ask, spying to her left and seeing a cutting board with various cut-up vegetables and a pot filled with cooked rice. "oh this, it's nothing. i thought i'd suprise my lovely girlfriend with a small dinner and to celebrate our retirement i even planed a surprise for you!" she says excited. "oh a surprise? but this is already enough" you say pointing at her and the half-way cooked meal. "and besides, i also have a gift for you" you whisper into her ear, picking her up and placing her onto the counter. you start kissing her soft, welcoming lips. you start making your way down to her neck and leaving small kisses and bites everywhere. as a response you only get a "mmmhh" from natasha, as she is too fixated on your hands on her waist slowly making their way under her shirt. "shit i missed you natty" you mutter whilst kissing her collarbone. "y/n we have to stop.. i have to finish the dinner.." she mutters whilst moving her fingers under your chin.
picking her up and moving to your newly shared bedroom, you softly lay her on your queen sized bed. "the food can wait darling. i need to spend some time with you." you mutter against her lips.
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mhsdatgo · 2 days
Text
The Helaemonds/Helaegons need to calm down.
Don't get me wrong, it's always refreshing to see some people fill in the gaps of a basically untold relationship such as the one between the green kids in general, but this goes beyond basic obsessive shippy discourse. Leave this poor girl alone. Why's there an obsession with having her be romantically paired with her brothers, one worse than the other?
I understand the show has basically shown so little of her to the point where we didn’t even have a coronation for her on screen, so therefore you can self insert through her and have fun with headcanons regarding Aegon and Aemond. Really, I'm not faulting their girlies, you can be head over heels for whatever actor in character you want (unless you put them on pedestals and start acting like they did nothing wrong and pounce on whoever contests them, THEN we have a problem) but I assure you, Helaena would barely want anything to do with either of them.
Aegon is a sex pest turned sex offender, a drunkard and a neglectful father and husband at best. Her infamous toast in ep.8 has us believing that he cannot for the life of him interact with her unless he's horny drunk or that he forces himself on her at worst.* He was ready to leave them all in ep.9 before he was caught. Even the book is subtle about their relationship: all we know of them is that they sleep in shared chambers, that she was someone important and reliable in Aegon's council before B&C, and that he named her and Alicent the true Queens of his reign.
*(⚠️TW: PERSONAL OPINION⚠️ I'm not saying this last one isn't a possibility but it's sill outrageous for the way people speak about Helaena in defence of this "claim". No, she wouldn't joke about her own r*pe in front of the whole table full of people she doesn't know and right beside her abuser, and despite the hour-long metas I've read about how she's basically "too sheltered" to know what r*pe even means, I assure you she's a high-functioning autistic, not 5 years old. She can understand it perfectly.)
Helaemond is a pure show invention, I honestly wasn't expecting this many people to go up this kind of train. They barely interact, and most of the time it's Aemond saying he'd "perform his duty" should Helaena ever be wed to him, or that stare in ep.9 when he enters her chambers toiling after Alicent. It's, as always, the Aemond girlies who think poor Helaena would live her best life with Aemond, or that they are already romantically involved behind the scenes. The amount of "if one possesses a thing, the other will take it away" edits from people that are FULLY CONVINCED "the thing" is Helaena and that "the one" and "the other" are Aemond and Aegon respectively is honestly concerning.
Fics that are all about Aegon doing the worst and unspeakable things to her so "Aemond can come and save her" are y'all okay? Out of all people, HE has to save her?
Babes, I'm sorry to break your bubble, but this isn't Aegon IV/Naerys/Aemon on steroids. Aemond didn't give two shits about Helaena. No, he wasn't jealous when Jace came to ask her to dance, he just wanted to stir some shit. If we talk about the books, he didn't fucking hesitate to leave King's Landing, his sister, his mother and whatever he was doing for the Riverlands the second he heard that Daemon was there. And he brought the only means of defence they had with him. If he knew how important Vhagar was for the city's defence, he's evil, if he didn't realize it, he's dumb as fuck. Which one is it, Aemond girlies?
People beat each other to the curb about Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor's paternity like it's the Wars of The Roses. They put Helaena and Alys against the other like they have personal beef with one of them.
Stop mentioning this sweetheart only when it's about praising or hating one of her brothers. No, it's not the only option you have because she's underdeveloped as a character. There's actually another one.
LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE.
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sairee · 17 hours
Text
Try again
What if Ghost and Soap didn't work out? What if they loved each other more than anything and really tried to make it work but eventually, Ghost's own self-doubt and trauma built a rift between them that was impossible to overcome. And one day, they cracked.
Being reunited 15 years later, maybe the universe had finally given them the second chance Ghost so desperately craved. And with Soap's affectionate eyes crinkling warmly in Ghost's direction, he was damn sure going to seize it.
link on ao3 (with full tags) ~3000 words
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When Ghost and Soap got together for the first time, Ghost felt as though he had finally found the missing piece that his life had been so empty without. They loved each other, they really did, but it wasn’t perfect.
Between their jobs, the constant stress, the long hours, and their own personal issues, something eventually began to break. They both had their own traumas but Ghost’s was especially destructive. It slowly ate away at him, consuming him, controlling him, no matter how hard he fought back against it.
They tried, god knows how hard they tried. They wanted nothing more than to make it work. They thought they could fix it.
But one day, it broke.
Sometimes bridges collapse. Sometimes roads crack. Sometimes houses crumble.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Ghost struggled a lot. Not with loving Johnny – that was easy – but with being someone that Johnny could love. The gnarled and intrusive whispers in the back of his head taunted him with how little he deserved happiness. He grew paranoid, distant, and cold. As time went on, Ghost started to push Soap away, scared of inevitably losing him like he’d lost everyone else in his life.
Near the end they fought. A lot.
Ghost wanted to stop, he did, but fear had clutched its sharp claws around his heart, stealing it away from the only man he had ever wanted to give it to.
When it all became too much for them – when the scales shattered and the rope splintered – Ghost didn’t blame Soap for leaving, not for one second. He only wished with Ghost no longer being a burden in his life that Soap would find a better happiness somewhere else.
While he understood why Soap did it, it almost destroyed Ghost when he left. He struggled to see the value in trying to live anymore. But imagining Soap’s face when someone told him the news always stopped him from succumbing to these thoughts. He couldn’t hurt Soap even more than he already had.
So he continued to live.
And the sun continued to rise.
And the days continued to pass.
And before he knew it, Ghost found himself 15 years older.
Then, by happenstance, they were reunited. Enough time had passed that they were both leading their own teams. Unbeknownst to them, one of their higher ups put their two teams together to work on a complicated infiltration mission. The docket had been classified, so Ghost would only know who he was working with once he saw them face to face.
But Ghost heard his voice before seeing his face, a throb in his chest spreading quickly as his heart skipped a beat. It had been so long since he heard that voice – deep, gravelly, and sharp, but also filled with unreserved warmth and care. Could it really be him?
As Ghost rounded the corner, before him stood several men around a large wooden table, their gazes pointed downwards as they focused on the unfurled map that spread across it. Ghost’s eyes immediately locked onto the man standing in the middle, gesturing to a location with a deep furrow on his brow.
It was Soap.
He had changed – they both had. His hair was a bit longer but still sported that familiar mohawk. He’d aged beautifully, slight wrinkles around his eyes and grey hairs that peppered his sides. His lips were still full and his chin still strong and his nose still slightly askew.
He glanced up as Ghost walked in.
Those eyes. Those eyes hadn’t changed at all. They were still as stunningly deep and blue as the ocean, powerful currents that always sucked Ghost in.
Soap froze. His breath hitched. His mouth fell open. His eyes widened.
And Soap, who also hadn’t seen those eyes in years would recognize them in a heartbeat. He’d never forgotten the beauty of Ghost’s eyes, the colour of deep, rich earth that nurtured the vibrant colours of the world to flourish.
As they looked at one another there was a long, excruciatingly long, second of shocked silence.
Then, to Ghost’s immediate relief, a tender smile spread across Soap’s face, the coldness of his life immediately melting away as he was bathed in such breathtaking warmth yet again. It was a privilege he never thought he would get to experience again.
With a quiet mutter to excuse himself, Soap briefly patted the shoulder of the man to his right and started to make his way over to Ghost. Each step closer, one after another after another, the whole time a playful smirk pulling at Soap’s lips.
He relished in the way that Soap’s eyes looked him up and down. He stopped in front of Ghost, just a couple feet away which still felt like too much space.
“L.t…” Soap breathed out. It was like a song made just for his ears.
“I haven’t heard that in years…” Ghost said quietly, somehow stringing a coherent sentence together. He smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Johnny…”
Soap’s eyes crinkled, resembling sunshine, and his head briefly dropped as he let out a breathy chuckle. After a second, he looked up again, staring into Ghost’s eyes unwaveringly.
“And I only liked hearing that name from you. The only one who called me that.”
“Can I?” he said, his hesitant words heavy with implication. Could he still call Soap Johnny? Was he still Johnny? Was he still his Johnny.
“Aye…” he said sweetly. “Only you…”
They stared into each other’s eyes, forever and endless, and gleefully let the memories come rushing back like an old friend.
All of a sudden, Soap peeled his eyes away, shaking his head as if to snap out of it. He took a quick inhale and pointed a thumb over to the rest of the group.
“I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
As they walked back to the group, Ghost couldn’t help but steal glances down at Soap’s hand to try and catch if there was a ring. It was selfish the way his heart fluttered with happiness when he didn’t see one.
And just like that, as if opposite sides of a magnet, the two of them were uncontrollably drawn to one another again, like no time had passed at all. Neither of them could help it. They were planets caught in the other’s orbit. They were the drugs that they were happily addicted to. They were the air of life in the other’s lungs.
As the days passed, their curious eyes wandered beyond, sneaking glances at lips, arms, legs, and any flash of skin. Their smiles were gifted fully in all manners of ways – teasingly, proudly, sentimentally. Their bodies always found one another with small and subtle brush ups along their shoulders, knees, and fingers.
Each touch was just as invigorating as the last.
They continued to grow closer, ignoring a strange look or two from the other members of their teams as frivolous nothings that existed beyond the gaze of each other’s eyes.
For Soap, the smallest of voices at the back of his mind told him to slow down, take it easy, think twice.
But he didn’t want to. It was all so thrilling and comfortable again.
Their evening planning sessions turned to late night joking conversations, a bottle of Scotch being passed between the two of them freely. These conversations quickly turned into flirting. Under the soft glow of the desk light, they would inch closer and closer to each other, their hearts skipping excitedly with each touch or look.
Ghost hadn’t felt so light and carefree in such a long time.
He wanted.
Soap wanted.
And one day, after weeks of this, the two of them turned that want into action.
After a final late night planning session where they spent at least most of the time doing their actual jobs, the two of them walked back to Soap’s room. As they lingered outside his door, the space between them felt thick with was unspoken need.
Soap turned around, his face pinched up in slight hesitation.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” he stated, trying to make conversation, “for the raid…”
“Yeah…” Ghost said, not wanting to think beyond this moment.
Soap clasped his hands together. “And when it’s done… I’m… we’re… shipped off again. You’ve any idea where?”
Ghost shook his head. “I go where I’m needed.”
Something shifted behind Soap’s eyes, disappointment mixed with sorrow. “Right…right…”
A spark.
Ghost raised his arm to scratch at the back of his neck, feeling a sudden need to do something with his useless hands, when a familiar stabbing pain shot through his shoulder. He sucked in a breath and grimaced, lowering his arm to make the pain stop.
“Still that shoulder?” Soap asked, jokingly but still with sincere concern.
With pinched lips, Ghost smiled and rolled out his shoulder.  “Same shoulder for 20 years. Only gotten worse with age. Even lifting my arm hurts it sometimes. It feels like I'm too old nowadays for most things I used to do.”
“Well…” Soap said teasingly, his eyes shifting with need. “Hopefully not everything…”
A flicker.
“Yeah?” Ghost replied, keeping his voice low. “What did you have in mind?”
Soap discreetly raised his hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around Ghost’s belt and pulling him closer. The air crackled with electricity between them.
“Are you sure…?” Ghost asked softly, tilting his head closer to Soap who lifted his chin up expectedly.
“Simon…” Soap whispered, his mouth so close he could feel its heat through his mask. “Don’t make me beg…”
A burning flame.
And that was it.
They tumbled into the room, grasping onto every inch of each other. There was nothing but lips and hands, limbs tangling and taking with need. Their bodies were infinite and Soap’s eyes, giving him nothing but trust and pleasure, were endless.
In an instant, everything came back to Ghost as he relived exactly where to touch and caress Soap’s body that would coax out all of his pretty little moans. Hands traced over old and new scars on each other’s bodies. Soap placed kisses down Ghost’s tattoos which had sprawled up his bicep and crept onto his chest over the years. There was nothing but them.
There was nothing but Johnny.
When they were done, twice surprisingly, they lay in bed together, Soap curled up against his side and Ghost’s arm wrapped around him like they always used to do. With quiet puffs that blew out across his chest, Ghost counted each of Soap’s breaths, wondering if this was going to be the last time he’d ever get to see Soap like this again before they parted tomorrow.
Ghost leisurely trailed his fingers up and down Soap’s spine, expertly noting all of the new marks and scars he knew had never been there before. The metal of Ghost’s dog tag quietly jingled as Soap absentmindedly twisted the chain around his finger.
“Not too old for that,” Soap joked quietly, the smile evident in his voice. “Thank god.”
“No,” Ghost mumbled warmly, “I suppose not. Helps that it was you.”
Soap then lifted his head off of Ghost’s chest and stared at him in wonder, awestruck as if seeing him for the first time. He unwrapped the dog tags from his hand and gently traced the line of grey hairs that had sprouted along Ghost’s temple.
“Counting my greys, are you?” he said jokingly, not-so-secretly loving all of the attention that Soap was giving him.
Soap smiled sentimentally, memories flashing behind his eyes in an instant. “I’m glad to see you like this,” he replied. “You often spoke about how you didn’t think you would make it this far. It’s proof that you did. And I think it’s beautiful.”
With a quick peck to Ghost’s cheek, Soap rested his head back against Ghost’s chest.
Ghost didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t. Come morning, he didn’t think he had the strength to say goodbye to Soap yet again. He clenched his jaw and blinked away the tears that threatened to come out.
“Is…” Ghost started, scared to ask the question. “Is there anyone else…?”
He probably should have asked that before their night together, but he wasn’t exactly thinking with the right head. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear. He didn’t know what would hurt more – Soap walking away alone or towards someone else.
Soap gently shook his head. “There were a few people over the years but…” he trailed off with a sigh.
“But what?” Ghost said, tenderly urging him to speak more.
After a few long seconds, Soap spoke up again.
“I never loved anyone in the same way that I loved you.” Soap’s fingers were gracing the top of Ghost’s chest, turning those meaningless shapes into artwork against his skin. “And you?” It was also hesitant but hopeful, trying not to give too much away.
Ghost placed his fingers underneath Soap’s chin and gently pushed it up so they were looking into each other’s eyes again.
“I never loved anyone after you…”
Soap took a shuddering inhale upon hearing those words. Ghost couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to know. He needed to ask. He needed to scream it out into the world.
His heart started thumping nervously in his chest. He was sure that Soap could feel it. He gathered every bit of courage he had inside, beating down years of shame and regret.
“I…I…” he stuttered, the words tumbling out without any grace. “I’ve missed you so much, more than you could ever know. And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for how I treated you. There’s someone I’ve been talking to for a long time now and they’ve been helping me. I’m not perfect, god knows I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I’m better. I really am.
“The whole time all I wanted was for you to see how I was changing. I wanted to be someone that could make you proud. I hope I am…
“I know what I’m about to ask is a lot, and I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… anything else… but… I’d never be able to forgive myself if I-”
Ghost let out an anxious sigh, letting his thumb that softly caressed Soap’s cheek calm him down.
“I want… I want…” Ghost took one final breath. “Can we try again?” He didn’t care how pathetic he sounded. He didn’t care that he was practically begging. “I’ve never stopped loving you all this time and… and seeing you again just brought back all these emotions again… and… You were the only good thing I’m my life after so many years. You made me so happy. I selfishly want that feeling again. I want you.
“So… what do you think? You and me again? I don’t know what might happen, I guess neither of us do, but I promise I won’t give up. I never want to give up on you again. I promise to make you happy, in whatever way that means now. I’m scared of you walking out of my life tomorrow. But even then, you’re still the love of my life and always will be whether or not we’re together…”
As Ghost spoke, he watched Soap’s eyes soften. He leaned into Ghost’s touch, blinking away the mistiness that had clouded his eyes. He carefully dragged his eyes up and down Ghost’s face, flickering memories dancing behind them of the life they used to share.
Ghost didn’t know if the years had been kind or cruel to him. He so desperately wanted to fight for Soap. He wanted to give him a life he deserved.
Soap let out a shuddering exhale, leaning forward to bury his face into Ghost’s neck.
“Aye…” he whispered with desperate relief against Ghost’s skin. “I do… I want that more than anything…”
Had Soap not been there in his arms grounding him, Ghost would have crumpled into ash. Dizzying, dizzying happiness swirled around his mind. He tightened his grip around Soap, holding him until they were one. His heart was soaring, grateful at the chance to love once again.
All of Ghost’s nervousness turned into giddiness, a happy chuckle bubbling up and singing a beautiful symphony for the whole world to hear.
“I can put in a transfer request…” Ghost murmured, “but… I’m not sure…”
He could feel the way Soap’s smile widened across his skin.
“Murray is leaving in a few weeks,” he stated, his controlled excitement still peeking out. “His wife is having a baby. There will be an empty spot on my team. And I have complete authority over who joins…”
“You sure the rest of the Scots won’t have an issue with me invading?” he joked. It felt so good to joke. It felt so good to hold Soap in his arms.
“They best not. Then they’ll also be having a problem with me.”
Soap lifted up his head again, gifting Ghost with such tenderness and softness. There was nothing on earth like those eyes.
He leaned forward and blissfully pressed their lips together. No longer was Ghost adrift. No longer was Ghost alone. They’d missed so much time together that Ghost wanted to make up for.
When Ghost used to think about their future, he was frozen with fear, scared that he wasn’t worth it, scared that they would never last. But now, Soap’s firm but soft body wrapped in his arms and addicting lips pressed against his, Ghost was no longer afraid.
He was excited for whatever the future may hold, hand in hand, side by side.
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link on ao3
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writing-whump · 20 hours
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Hey! I'm new around Tumblr and since the first day I found your blog.. I'm literally obsessed with your fictions!! Love the fictions, characters... I think you're one of the bests 💕💕Especially, I love Hector and Isiah, bromanceee!💖
Umm, when you have time and done with the fics on your list, would you consider a new one about Hector who's reeeally sick with high fever (and some other symptoms which is totally up to your imagination) and Isiah taking care of him?? I'd really love to read that!
♡Thank you with sharing these characters and world with us!
Hello nonny and welcome! That's so sweet of you to say, thank you so much🥰💕 This really fit as continuation for sick feverish Hector after his appendicitis operation, so here you go 😊
Appendicitis Aftermath
Arnie was biting his nails. Isaiah was seriously considering if he shouldn't point it out, because it was climbing up his fried nerves.
Arnie sat in the backseat, without a seat belt so he could hover in the middle between Isaiah behind the wheel and Hector.
One would say Isaiah would be used to being called to a crisis with his brothers in the middle of the night by now. However, it didn't get easier with practice.
Arnie was nearly in tears, mumbling about Hector, an operation, and an unruly shadow, which sent Isaiah into a panic. Turned rather anticlimactic when he arrived at the hospital.
Hector had appendicitis. The operation was routine, small, nothing serious. They caught it on time. Except the shadow was a problem. Isaiah was all ready to roll it down for his brother, when the medics came with the idea they could just drug him up with heavy stuff.
Hector was a wolf, meaning he couldn't heal an inflammation, infection, or sickness, but if they took the appendix out, his shadow would be able to heal the wound afterward. He didn't have to stay in the hospital; they even allowed them to take him home.
They needed only to wait for his shadow to recover.
Until then, Hector was stitched up and with bandages over the wound, hurting like any mortal would.
Another quiet crack as Arnie bit into the nail on his forefinger, fidgeting on Isaiah's right.
Hector was pale, holding himself rigidly in the seat. His eyes were closed, but he took those carefully measured breaths that told Isaiah he wasn't asleep.
The car jostled over a bump and Hector hissed quietly, jerking his head.
"Sorry about that. Almost home, buddy," Isaiah said, planting his hand on Hector's leg for a second to reassure him. Hector said nothing, curling onto himself.
"You'll be fine—humans undergo these operations every day and recover well." Arnie leaned in closer, a ball of nervous energy. Surprisingly so, since he slept even less than Isaiah, calling the ambulance at 3 in the morning.
Isaiah understood Arnie was trying to play the situation down, appealing to Hector's pride so he wouldn't let the pain get to him so much, but he didn't think it was currently helping.
Hector was simply in pain—one that wasn't leaving, wasn't getting better, and wouldn't be healed by his shadow for the next 12 hours at the least. This was not a good forecast for a wolf not used to endure pain, but there was no way to play it down.
Isaiah didn't have it in him to admonish Arnie though. His two younger brothers knew each other better than he knew them, he didn't dare. He understood Arnie was stressed out about it - he was even acutely aware of the fact.
One of the reasons why he found sharing his pain, sickness or weakness absolutely unacceptable with his brothers. He would not put Arnie through such an experience if he could help it. He never did, actually.
But he had failed in front of Hector one or two times about that, so he understood that too. Besides, it would probably be healthier to admit it, if they knew how to handle it right.
"Shit," Hector grunted, pressing his forehead against the window, hands gingerly around his stomach, just above the wound. "Stupid fucking medics, taking my shadow away."
"They couldn't work around it," Arnie said defensively, feeling involved in the decision since Hector was unconscious at the time. "It would be like the scene from Spiderman 2. The tentacles of Doc Oc killing everyone. Besides, the meds will wear off quicker than if it got rolled down."
"So glad you got it all planned out," Hector snapped, face white and strained. "Helps a shitton-"
"Alright," Isaiah interjected. "That's enough. Arnie is just trying to help," Isaiah said, giving the youngest a pointed look to just shut up. "Hex, anything we can do for you right now?"
"What would you want to do?!" Hector protested, growl in his voice. "Just want to go freaking home. What are you so slow for?"
Isaiah decided not to mention he was driving slowly because of Hector, to avoid the jostling as much as possible.
"Fucking grandma drives faster," Hector continued under his breath, but his eyes were open and more alert now as he watched the streets glide by the window.
Isaiah was relieved to finally reach Hector's apartment, though he took a deep breath to brace himself for the next part.
Hector put his hands on his knees experimentally, breaths coming in faster. He was scared of the walk.
"Arnie, go in first and open up for us, would you?" Isaiah suggested, for all their sakes. He didn't think struggling in front of Arnie made it any easier, nor was Arnie taking it very well.
Arnie dangled the keys in his hands and hurried out of the car. It swung left and right at the impact of the door slamming shut. Hector moaned quietly, hanging his head over his legs.
Isaiah opened and closed his doors gently, circling around slowly to let Hector prepare for it.
He opened the door and put a hand on Hector's nape. Sweat was clinging to his skin, and he felt warm and feverish.
"It won't be so bad. I'll help you," Isaiah said gently, rubbing his finger up and down on Hector's nape.
Hector straightened up, twitched at the movement, slowly swinging one leg out of the car. "Just-" he gulped, "just give me a minute?"
"Whenever you are ready. Take your time."
Hector closed his eyes for three more long breaths, then opened up with more fight in his eyes. "Okay."
Isaiah hugged him from the side so he could brace Hector's weight against him and pulled him up slowly. He aimed not to have Hector tense any of his stomach muscles to get upright.
Hector wrapped his arm around Isaiah’s neck, taking a fistful of his coat in his hand. He took a shaky breath but didn't protest being pulled up.
Isaiah took two steps to the side to close the door behind them and lock the car up. He wrapped his arm properly around Hector's middle, gripping it at his healthy side, half of his brother's weight on him. "Five minutes and you can lay down," he promised.
They made their way to the elevator, where Hector closed his eyes, slumping even more against Isaiah. "...how many more hours?"
"If we start counting from the moment the IV was removed and take 12 hours as the goal - around 10 hours and 40 minutes to go."
Hector pressed his lips together, murmuring something. "Keep the count for me?" he asked in a low voice, as if he were trying to find a nicer way to say it.
Isaiah readjusted his grip on him as the elevator arrived. "Of course."
Arnie left the door open for them. Isaiah didn't bother with the shoes and coats, dragging Hector to his room.
"Slowly now," he said as he helped him lower himself onto the bed. Getting down was as much of a challenge as getting up.
Hector let out a little groan as he sat down, white as a sheet from the short walk. He hunched over himself but didn't lie down immediately, letting Isaiah undo his shoes.
"It's Best if you just sleep through it," Isaiah said, gently helping Hector lay down against the pillows. He pushed the covers on top. It was a corner bed, so the wall was right next to them to lean on, and there was a TV hanging from the opposite wall.
Hector squirmed under the covers, face one big grimace. "Don't think I can sleep."
"Then let's find some low-energy distractions," Isaiah said. He got rid of his shoes and coat and climbed into the bed beside Hector. "Old movie or new? Something you like and could focus on what be good."
Hector's eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement at Isaiah, but he didn't comment on him inviting himself over.
Hector shifted around with his shoulders, comically lost in the covers. "Zaya? Could I- could you just get me something for this?" He pressed the words through his teeth.
"You are still on the meds from the hospital, there really isn't anything stronger here."
"Yeah, well that sucks," Hector said with a shudder. His hands pushed at the covers, digging into them with his fingers.
"We could try some ice on the wound. And maybe you could drink something?" Isaiah didn't like the sweat on Hector's forehead or the heat radiating from him even just sitting this close.
The doors creaked when Arnie stuck his head in. Isaiah quietly asked him what items to bring and added a thermometer for good measure.
"Is there no trick to this?" Hector said in a strangled voice, looking longingly at Isaiah's human-shaped shadow neatly tucked at the end of the bed without any light to explain the angle.
"Try calling for it as much as possible," Isaiah suggested. "I'm not experienced with drugs and medication, but the more you call it, the faster it tries to get back."
Hector curled up on his side, arms wrapped around his chest like he was cold. His forehead creased in concentration before he gasped for a breath, twisting in the pillows. "Doesn't work. I can't even...it's like reaching for something under the sofa. I know it's there, but I can't touch it." There was a hint of a whine in that sentence.
"Shhhhhhh. Then just let it be for a bit." The worst they could do was to get Hector upset. Isaiah put his hand on Hector's shoulder, almost by the neck, holding him steady as he took deep, ragged breaths.
Arnie tiptoed inside, bringing the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel, a glass of water and a thermometer. His fingertips were all chewed and bloody.
Isaiah sighed and whispered: "Go disinfect that and take a nap. I've got him." With Hector's shadow absent, he couldn't hear them.
Arnie looked at Isaiah with a glassy, scared look as if he weren't sure he really wanted to do this alone. Finally, he nodded. "Call me if you need something."
Hector shuffled under the covers so Isaiah could put the wrapped-up ice on top of the bandages. Hector winced at the contact before leaning back again. "Is he pissed off or something?"
"He is fine. Tired and worried," Isaiah said, sitting down properly against the wall. He turned on the TV, clicking between the channels until he found some kind of Tom Cruise action movie. "Are you sure you don't have a preference?"
"I don't have a list of favorites on the ready," Hector complained. "How the hell do you have time for that?"
Isaiah shrugged. "Movie night on Wednesdays, usually some kind of cinema or movie with Seline during the week and free weekend afternoons."
"What, Seline gives you breaks on the weekends?"
"Kinda. She is always out visiting her parents."
Hector gave him a look. "What? Why?"
"There are apparently parents worth visiting."
Hector frowned, silent for a long minute. Isaiah winced internally. Parents weren't a good topic by a stretch. Not since the whole reveal drama.
Hector rolled his head to look at the TV absently, though now he looked more dazed than focused. Isaiah hoped that was a sign he really would nod off to sleep. There were still 10 hours left.
"It's too freaking warm in here," Hector complained out of a sudden, scrambling up on shaky hands.
"What do you think you are doing?" Isaiah pushed him back, getting out of bed nimbly to open the window. "I'll do it. Just stay put."
Hector lifted himself up on the pillows a little, face scrunching up. "I don't feel well."
Isaiah got back onto the bed. "I know. It will just be a bit longer."
"No, like for real. I don't-" he hiccuped, pressing a hand to his lips. "I feel sick." He looked at Isaiah with wide eyes. "I don't want to throw up. It's hurting like a bitch as it is, Zaya, please-"
"Okay, okay, I got you." Isaiah had no idea what he was doing, but the pleading had his ribcage squeezing like he couldn't get in any air. He helped Hector to sit a bit more upright, leaning him against his side, his own arms wrapped around Hector's chest to hold him up. "Take deep breaths. There is fresh air coming from the window and you got nothing to throw up anyway. Just breathe."
"Make it stop," Hector sobbed, pressing his hands against Isaiah's on his chest. "It hurts."
"I know, buddy, I know. Shhhh. I'm right here." Isaiah held him as tight as he dared. Hector's head, now pressed against his neck, radiated heat like a furnace. No wonder he was so whiny.
"You wouldn't have a problem with something like this," Hector whimpered, a shiver running through him. "You would be fine. Even Arnie would be fine, it's just me-"
"Oh, shut it," Isaiah said sternly. "You are plenty resilient. You train day and night, you think I can't see it? It's like you are made of steel. That's not something you get from a shadow or because you are a wolf. And training is basically pain and learning to accept and like pain, and you got that."
"Then tell me how to do it," Hector demanded, swallowing heavily.
"I told you. Sleep, being comfy, movies, distraction-"
"Yeah, sure, cause that's how you do it. With your training and experience-"
"And you think that's an advantage?" Isaiah blurted out. "After all this time? I got pretty nasty things out of that torture crap too, just so you know. I did it so you wouldn't have to and now you are jealous of it? Jesus fucking Christ."
Maybe that was not the right thing to say at such a time, cause Hector was crying now, big fat tears streaming down his face. "Sorry, I'm sorry..." he hiccuped and then gagged.
Isaiah leaned forward along with him, holding his shoulders from behind as Hector heaved emptily over the sheets and the bed, shuddering with the pain, hands at his side.
"Shhhhhh. It's okay. Take deep breaths now. You are alright," Isaiah repeated over and over.
There was truly nothing for Hector to bring up, so Isaiah leaned back again, pulling Hector after him against his chest again. Thumbing the tears on his cheeks away with his hands, Isaiah's insides shook as if he were the one heaving.
"I'm sorry," Hector whimpered after a while with a sniffle. "I'm really sorry."
Isaiah stared at the ceiling tiredly. "I forgive you." He wrapped his hands snuggly around his brother. "Just don't say shit like that again."
They stayed in heavy silence for a while, Isaiah counting Hector's harsh breaths until they came more rhythmically.
"Tell me something that helps you," Hector said quietly. "Something that matters to you. Something real."
"That will help distract you? Really?" Isaiah said dryly. His chest was hurting at the conversation, at seeing Hector this weak and pained, at the issue being brought up at all.
Hector coiled up into a ball against him, which was the weirdest position since he wasn't a small man in the slightest.
"It helps to imagine it like a circle," Isaiah said into the silence. "A circle around where it hurts, like the pain gets trapped there. Like it can't get further and I can chase it out by cutting it off oxygen, attention, blood stream."
Hector made a little noise at the back of his throat, the side of his face pressing into Isaiah's chest. Over his heart.
"It helps not to be alone. I had to be for a long time, but now I don't and...and it helps, I think."
Hector closed his eyes, nodding against him.
"And the last thing...I don't know if it will work for you..."
Hector tensed against him with a little groan of pain.
"I really do like the movies," Isaiah said.
Hector waited in shocked silence at the words before giving a hoarse little chuckle, snuggling closer. "You are such an ass."
"If you don't pick, I will," Isaiah said, a tentative smile playing on his lips. 
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bthump · 3 days
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what draws you to homosexual relationships in fiction as opposed to heterosexual ones? I noticed I prefer them as well but I don’t really know why. Or maybe it’s just in the media I like the homosexual relationships are written to be much more compelling, I don’t know. This isn’t hate against het relationships btw I support all sexualities
Probably a million different reasons honestly. Off the top of my head, some of my personal reasons:
-- I'm bi but more interested in gay relationships in my personal life, so my fictional interests reflect my irl interests.
-- Removes misogyny as a factor both within the romantic dynamic and, if m/m, the depiction.
-- Relatedly, I hate how 99% of hetero relationships in media have a built in lowkey unacknowledged d/s vibe due to that misogyny. Woman passive man active, woman pursued man pursues, woman weak man strong, woman soft man hard, woman fucked man fuck, woman object man subject, woman prize man winner, woman small man big, woman puts in work and money to make herself attractive man gets to live at his default state, woman desirable for looks man desirable for personality/money/skill, woman financially dependent on man, etc etc etc. Turns me off.
-- Like at least when that's the dynamic in m/m or f/f it's deliberately someone's kink and a gender norm is being subverted by one of the characters.
-- Gay relationships being more equal is something I've seen cited a lot, rightly or not, but it isn't one of my reasons lol, I like unequal relationships in fiction. That said, gender not being a factor in that inequality is definitely a draw for me.
-- Subtext is more engaging than most textual romances, and gay relationships are more likely to be subtext while het is more likely to be textual.
-- Gay sex (m/m and f/f) turns me on, straight sex rarely does.
-- Specific to m/m, but men in fiction are more likely to have compelling, complicated, deep relationships with each other than they are with women.
-- I enjoy gender nonconformity which is much more plentiful in gay ships and fiction than straight media.
-- Heterosexuality is oversaturated in media and I'm exhausted and irritated by its ubiquitousness.
-- As someone who grew up in the 90s, the existence of casually gay popular media still blows my mind lol, the shine has not come even close to wearing off. Heterosexual media just can't compete with that.
Anyway yeah, those are a few of my reasons, and maybe they align with some of yours as well.
Ultimately though I don't think it matters and it shouldn't be something you feel the need to justify imo. Enjoy whatever you enjoy for whatever reason, or no reason at all. But if you enjoy soul searching, then maybe this list is a decent starting point.
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hey bud 💚 how about 18 "it's so hot when you talk like that" if you're feeling it?
"It's so hot when you talk like that." additional tags: hypothetical pregnancy discussion, hypothetical breeding kink, ian's been reading a lot of ABO on the DL
"Can't believe that motherfucker Allen."
Ian closes their apartment door behind them, sealing them away from yet another neighbor interaction. "Makin' Jill carry all those bags when she's - what, thirty weeks pregnant?" He's nosy - don't worry about it.
"Thirty one," Mickey corrects, because he's even nosier. "What a piece of shit."
"Well...least we were there," says Ian, finally able to worm the handle of their plastic CVS bag back down to his hand now that it's not occupied with another family's groceries. "Think they'll make us godparents?"
At the counter, Mickey grimaces. "Ugh. Don't even fuckin' joke about that."
It gets a laugh from Ian - the striking contrast between Jill's produce bags and their CVS bag of lube, condoms, and beef jerky not lost on him in the slightest.
"Better not pull any of that shit on me."
Ian looks up from their spoils. Tries to imagine a world where he'd pull an Allen on his husband. "Never," he says. "I'm a gentleman after all."
"Uh huh..." He can hear Mickey's grin as it trails off into the refrigerator, his head and shoulders blocked by the open door. "Course, for that you'd haveta put a baby in me first."
And oh, the way Ian's sensors go off in his brain... How a little pop of interest licks up his belly... Well that was a thing to fucking say! "Ha ha..." play it cool... "Yeah..."
It's just a stupid, passing comment. They make it to each other sometimes, comfortable in the silliness of it. But that doesn't mean Ian's brain hasn't taken it and molded it into perfect, sexy little shapes for himself.
"You expect me to carry around your pups like that, I expect your ass to cater to me day 'n night..."
Okay...
Ian takes a slow breath in, his nostrils flaring.
He sets the lube down.
Goes with his gut and approaches Mickey from behind, just as he's closing the refrigerator door. Because if he's gonna keep talking about this shit, then Ian's got no choice but to follow his animal instincts, right?
"Oh," he feels Mickey grin as he swoops in to wrap his arms around him, pulling him close against his chest. "That right, big guy?"
And fuck, Ian's just gonna go for it. Just gonna indulge a little, the fantasy of all those stories he's been sneaking in at night playing out right in front of him on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. "It's so hot when you talk like that..."
He murmurs it into Mickey's ear. Finds comfort in being able to hide his face from him, because he's definitely blushing a deep red when Mickey feeds into it - "What...talkin' 'bout you knockin' me up...?" - because of course he does.
And all Ian can do is hum in affirmation, his hold around his husband tightening as he drags his lips down the side of his warm neck, looking for his pulse point. "Mhm..."
Because that's hot...right? Ian laying Mickey out and pumping a nice big load into him? Getting him pregnant? Taking care of him while Mickey carries his child? Yeah, he knows it's not realistic and yeah, he knows it's a little fucked up, but come on... All those stories are kinda onto something.
In the kitchen's golden afternoon light, Mickey presses his ass back into his lap, teasing at the very obvious bulge in Ian's jeans. "Ya know, stud...we could make a baby right now..."
It's got heat and pleasure spreading through Ian's lap - up through his chest. Holy fuck. "Yeah...?" He fucking loves this man. "Want me to getchya pregnant, baby?"
"Mhm... Want ya to stick this big ol' cock in me and knot me up..."
And Ian is so blindly horny that it almost slips past him. He's so ready to haul Mickey into their bedroom and crack open the new lube but then he-... Wait a minute... He just said-...
Ian grows still behind him, embarrassment waiting in the wings as he carefully asks it. "How do you know that word...?"
"What... Knot...?" He can't see Mickey's face, but god damn he can hear the smirk on his lips. "Same reason I know your phone password..."
And oh... Ohhh boy, should Ian be having a crisis?
No. No, he doesn't think so. Because even with his search history fresh in mind, Mickey's playing along - feeding right into it, with another press of his ass into his lap and then a teasing brow raise as he starts for their bedroom.
"C'mon you alpha freak - come put a baby in me."
Ian stands for a second, at a loss for words in the middle of their kitchen.
But then they kick right in again - his animal instincts - and he's hot on Mickey's tail.
Fuck, he loves this man. He'll carry a thousand fucking grocery bags for him.
[ send me a smutty one-liner ]
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dinogoofymutated · 10 hours
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Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!
I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...
Especially for Warren....
I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.
Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)
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Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️
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Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader
OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!
Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.
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Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.
And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!
It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.
Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.
    You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!
    Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?
    “What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him. 
    “If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on. 
    “A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention. 
    “A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.
    “You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you. 
    “You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.
    “Can it, dude”
    The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.
    He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing. 
     Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.  He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief. 
...
     The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion. 
    It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind. 
    You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.
    “What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.
    “He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.
    “You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs. 
    “I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart. 
     “Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder. 
    “Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face. 
    “That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
    “You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.
    “What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.
    “I- Huh?”
    “You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.
    “What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.
    “Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.
    “By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.
    “No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He’s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.
    “Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.
    “What?” He asks.
    “Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.
    “I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.
    “Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss. 
    You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth. 
    When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?
    “...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.
    “Yeah, Probably.”
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