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lesbianslvt666 · 9 months

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omg, hi!!!! I absolutely LOVED the Dina one-shot and I was wondering if you could write more about their situationship, maybe make Dina being all jealous and shit in a celebration party for their team winning or the reader seeing Dina with another gurl and start ignoring her and Dina having no clue of what she must've done and maybe a make up sex? pls pls I just need more dina fics😭😭😭

Hiiii, i didn’t saw your request until now sorry…

Kinda second pt to this

Volleyball!player!Dina x cheerleader!Reader

Cw: shitty writing lol, not proofread, fast make out sesh, girls kissing (😱), alcohol consumption (sorry) mentions of 🍃, not smut yet cause i hit writers block (again, i am so sorry to disappoint :((), kinda angsty, Dina is kinda troubled cause she feels guilty, she loves you but she just shy.

Your team decided to celebrate that same night the victory against Dina’s team, as a “rub it on their faces” kinda of party, inviting them all to it.

When you arrived to your house, all you wanted was to get a good bath and relax, however, your friends insisted that it would look bad for you not to be there.

So after relaxing and showering you came out with a towel and your phone, music playing from it to get you pumped.

You tossed to phone to your bed, going through your wardrobe, your phone ringed.

Once

Twice

Thrice…

So you choose to check it, you knew it was dina for you had another ring tone just for her.

At first it was to know not to open her conversation around your teammates, it slowly became the fluttering sensation of knowing she was texting you.

Din😮‍💨

Hey babe whatcha doinggggg??

I was thinking

Maybe some us time??

You💕

Hello hot stuff, just freshly out of shower yup 🤩

I actually was getting ready to go to the party, you know, for my team who won against yours??

You going??

You wanted to press every button of her, to get her as bothered as you possibly could…

Din😮‍💨

Nah, iont wanna go with a bunch of petty winners.

You💕

But amma be there… with this dress…

You tossed your phone back to the bed, grabbing *the* dress, soft fabric sliding on your body as you put it on.

You took a pic, she could see your pretty lips and neck, collarbones exposed and the dress on full display.

You

but anywayyyy, ill be there tonite.

She didn’t reply.

You didn’t though much of it, as you got a call from one of your teammates.

“Hey pretty, amma pick you up, i am two streets away, you better be out when i arrive”

She didn’t let you reply, it was a command not a request and you just giggled at her hurried tone, taking your keys and your purse with a lipgloss and your phone inside.

The ride only cheering you more, loud music blasting on the speakers and a few ciggs shared with your friends.

If your trainer knew you would never hear the end of it…

Arriving to the party was fast, music blasting and people drinking all over.

Your team greeted you all with loud screams and shiny grins.

You scanned the room with your eyes, not a Dina on sight…

Boring.

You walked amongst your team, greeting friends around but going straight to the kitchen were the drinks are.

Thats when you bumped on Joslyn.

Her long and strong hands took a glass from behind you, getting closer to you body.

“How you holding up pretty?” Her voice was low and raspy, and as much as you thought she was pretty, she didn’t made you feel what Dina did.

She didn’t made you stomach flutter and your knees weak like dina does even just by looking at you.

Her eyes didn’t sparked the fire in your gut like Dina’s do.

Her hands didn’t make you feel like a burning wildfire that booms with every brushing of her touch.

But still… you agreed to her requests at dancing with you.

Few songs in, and a couple of glasses down.

Your head was spinning, Joslyns hands on your hips, swaying to the beat of the music till you finally saw her eyes.

Pretty brown orbs chasing you with disdain.

She wasn’t mad at you.

No, she could never.

She was mad at the situation, how come neither of you were courageous enough to be honest with each other.

Why was now she at this party, partially high with her hands on this chick, dancing stupid, jealousy corrode through her veins while she saw you swaying your hips back and forward on this girl.

Eyes glued to hers while you took it as a challenge, both with other women while thinking of each other.

She couldn’t take it anymore, she excused herself to the nearest bathroom, either to cry, punch something or throw up.

Her mind was running laps of things she could say to, debating whether or not to tell you how she felt.

Cause if you felt the same how come you hadn’t say anything yet huh?

Like it’s not Dinas responsibility to carry what you to had to the next step, right?

Because if you needed her the same way she needs you, you’d had already do somethi-

“DINA, LET ME INNNN!!” your words running out your pretty mouth like chopped fragments of you wild mind.

“Dina, please, we umm… talk! We need to talk” every word came down to a hit on the door, desperate attempts to open the door and groans of failed attempts.

Dina opened the door right after that, getting you inside the bathroom with her.

Your pretty eyes scanned her body now up close.

Black skirt running up her beautiful thighs, her lace top plumping up her boobs and you almost went feral.

She looked as pretty as always but this time you couldn’t hide how hot and bothered you were for her.

Your hand moved upwards without your knowledge, caressing on top of her clothed breast.

She took your wrist with a swift motion that took you out of your drunken state.

Your body flushed on hers on the blink of an eye.

And she kissed you hard enough to melt, your legs felt like jelly.

Her hands gravitated to your ass while one of yours moved to her tit and the other to her lower back, feeling her picking nipples on your own.

Soft lips smacking to each other, delicious tongues playing and exploring the already known territory and sucking mouths that were melting on each other.

The kiss so heated that the saliva was drooping down from your chin.

She stopped you.

Hand on your ass and the other on your neck.

“Tell me what you want angel, please i meed to know” her mouth molding on to a frown that made your head fall to the side.

She looked to cute.

“I want you to fuck me”

Her eyes drooped down.

Why does she looks sad right now huh??

What else does she wants?

“Nothing more?” Her hand on your neck falling to your lower back.

What more?

Isn’t she the one that proposed to have this hidden thing?

The one that would come over and whenever you thought of getting raw and intimate with yours and her feelings she changed the topic to sex?

She basically silently told you all she wanted was a casual sexual situationship.

And at first it was fun and it didn’t hurt like this.

At first it was a challenge seen her “flirt” with the fans in the crowd.

At first it was exciting to just fuck.

But now, you just feel like a side dish, never the main.

You might be the favorite for a while but she still preferred others.

So you pushed her with the hand that was on her tit.

Your drunken state returning in shapes of tears that outed your aching heart.

Rapid thoughts razing in your mind while your heart was booming inside.

“More like… what?”

Your voice came as a whisper, the room felt like it was lacking oxygen, warm and cold at the same time.

“Like something more… important?”

Fuck her.

Your hand pointed at her.

“Oh now you want something more than this?”

Your voice cracking between your choked sobs, you couldn’t stop your crying and Dinas heart felt like imploding on her chest.

Her pain mirroring yours.

“I am sorry…”

“I need water” your voice almost inaudible, while your hand twisted the knob, leaving Dina behind to admire you leaving.

You ran straight to your friends to grab your things but they stopped you from talking with loud screams of “the queen is back” and “we missed you baby”’s

A shot of don cuervo was tossed to your hands while your smiling friends were counting down, their happiness sticking to you a bit, you choose to stay.

The music was booming and you had nothing to stop you from celebrating your and your team’s victory.

So you danced on, with, to and for every girl around, you saw Dina, looking at you from a corner while talking to one of her teammates.

You chooses to give her the entertainment she was craving.

You jumped on the bar table, dancing around and swaying your hip to the rhythm.

The dancing, the crowd, the alcohol and the cigs you had smoked before making you feel too warm and uncomfortable.

So you took your shirt off while the girls and boy cheered for you.

Dina was in between the crowd.

So you danced more sensually, you could see she was pissed, but the show was short lived when you tripped on a bottle and slipped down

Two girls sloppily caught you and Dina took you from their holdings giving the excuse that age was the “best friend” and they fell for it.

“Hey, princess you are a bit too drunk, let me get you back on your dorm” her voice was soothing and soft to your ears, your brain didn’t wanted ti remember why she was mad at Dina in the first place.

Not when she was this pretty, not when she looked this hot, and less when she felt this good.

She helped you out of the house while putting your shirt back on in the process.

Your protests against going with her, leaving the party so early and putting back on your shirt were answered by a few “ill get you back home, it is what it is” and a lot of sorry’s.

Waking up after partied wasn’t usually the part you were looking for, and less when you had drink this much alcohol with almost to no water in between the process.

Pounding head and dry mouth, your face felt oily and you just needed to shower.

You looked to your side, a note was left there, with your clothes from last night.

You looked down.

A pair of sleeping pants and and an oversized shirt, she had left you panties but taken your bra off, what gentlewoman, you rolled your eyes.

You stepped to the shower, wobbling legs and dizzy walk but you got there.

Warm water hitting your body just right while you choose your favorite shampoo, lathering it in your hands before massaging it in your scalp.

The relaxation getting the best of you, almost lulling you to sleep.

When you heard the front door it startled you a bit but you didn’t thought much of it, your roommates normally where very active in the mornings.

However, Not just the front door opened, after a few seconds your room door opened, you could hear the sound of steps and plastic bags getting planted on your side table.

The sounds stopped.

For a few minutes there was only silence. Silence that was cut down by the sounds of rattling paper.

You stepped put of your shower, towel around your body and dina sat on your bed.

“Hello pretty… i have breakfast for you.” Her voice became smaller with each word, her eyes were glued to the ground and she looked so adorable.

“What are you doing here?” Your question might have come out harsher than you meant for she now looked back at you, face tinted with offense.

“Sorry I was the one you had to see first thing in the morning, ill get it going.” She rushed to her feet trying to get out the door, you wanted to stop her.

But memories of last night hit you and you felt embarrassed and hurt, you felt too exposed so you just hurried to close your door and put on some clothes.

When you saw the breakfast your mind ran to giving it to your roommates and forget about dina.

Bu you couldn’t, your stomach was aching with hunger and it just looked so good.

You took a bite and you almost went nuts

The flavors were expanding on your louth and you felt this warm on your chest just to the thought of Dina going out of her way to bring you you favorite dish.

Your head went back after taking a sip of your water and when your focus returned to take another bit you realized the scrunched up paper that was just tossed in the ground beside the garbage can.

You took it and opened it.

The note that was on your bedside.

A letter.

My Dearest Love.

I just realized how stupid I had been.

How for a very long time i had left your feeling slip pass me like water being absorbed in the hot pavement.

Not giving you back what you were gifting me.

I love you, but I am a pussy.

So i cannot tell you this in words.

However, i know i had hurt you many times before.

So, if you choose your peace before me, I’ll accept with love.

Yours truly, Dina, the girl that wants to be yours forever but is too afraid to ask you.

You left your room right after finishing your very delicious breakfast, taking your car keys and igniting the engine like your life depended on this.

She might be very avant-garde (shit at writing) figurative speech, but you needed her and to make things better.

You got to her place in eight minutes when it normally takes you fifteen, might be illegal in some parts but she was worth jail.

You nocked without thinking, just pure adrenaline behind your eyes.

She opened the door, she was wearing an oversized band tee and a pair of white socks.

Her eyes opening wide when she saw you standing i front of her.

“I want to be yours too”

(I want need her)

Next part to be the smut only?? (I hit writers block again) sorry :((

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fanatic-writers · 8 months

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Arms Tonite

A/n: Little Frank Castle drabble, one-shot, whatever you wanna call it cause I got this thought stuck in my head and couldn't get it out. Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty, I promise there's a happy ending.

Pairing: Frank Castle x reader

Warnings: Angsty angst angst, violence, guns, death, unedited

Word count: 1762

The rays of the sun flashed in your eyes, a familiar silhouette showing through. You didn’t know how you’d done it but you’d managed to convince Frank to have a picturesque almost Pinterest-level date. You were leaning back on a red checkered cloth. The picnic basket was empty with the food you two had shared over lunch. Your sundress rested just above your knees as you lazily looked over at your boyfriend. His eyes drifted to your thighs. “See something you like Castle?” You teased, his eyes slowly dragging up to your face. You never thought you’d get moments like this when you’d first met him. You knew his reputation, you knew his story. The two of you had been friends for what felt like ages before you’d managed to get up the nerve to ask him on a date.

“I-it doesn’t really have to be a date.” You’d stammered out after you’d asked him to dinner. Frank’s face was damn near unreadable as you looked at him until a small smile crept onto his features. “You wouldn’t be so nervous if you didn’t want it to be a date.” He teased you.

The clouds darkened out of nowhere, rain opening up as you and Frank scrambled to put everything back where it belonged. There wasn’t rain in the forecast for the day so neither of you had thought to bring an umbrella. Instead, Frank took off his jacket and held it over your head as the two of you ran for some sort of shelter from the downpour. A sense of déjà vu filled you as you both huddled under the awning of a nearby shop. You clung to his warmth, not really sure what the both of you were waiting for. The sky had gone even darker than it should have, the rain slowing to a stop as the clouds separated and revealed twinkling stars. You looked up confused before you heard Frank’s voice from the doorway. “You gonna come in or just stand out there staring at the ceiling?” He asked and you realized you were in front of his apartment door. You nodded, a bit confused before you walked into the candle-lit living room. “Happy Anniversary sweetheart.” Your brows furrowed once more, you’re anniversary wasn’t for another couple of months. You weren’t great with dates but you knew you hadn’t missed it considering you’d put it in your damn calendar. Then you realized how familiar it all looked, the candles set on the table, the white whine bottle waiting to be opened. “I know red goes better with spaghetti but-“ “But I don’t like reds” You finished for him, remembering your first anniversary like it was yesterday and not almost three years ago. Something was wrong, something was really wrong.

---

Frank had heard the gunshot before he could get to you. You’d called him, nervous that someone had been trailing you a couple of minutes ago. You were just a couple of blocks from his apartment and he had been jogging to meet you. He heard your scream and began to run and the moment he heard the gun go off he broke into an all-out sprint. Skidding to a stop in front of the darkened alley way he wasted no time putting a full clip into your assailant. Of all the times you’d accompanied him, put yourself into his battles, he never thought he’d lose you to some petty criminal trying to get whatever cash you had in your wallet.

He called out your name, dropping to his knees beside your body. You didn’t respond. Your body was still warm, and he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest but he wasn’t sure just how long that would last. He pulled you into his arms, finding your pulse before lifting your body up. “Stay with me sweetheart,” He murmured as he carried you to his van. You wouldn’t survive this if he didn’t get you to the hospital and quick. You’d both had your fair share of gunshot wounds but nothing you couldn’t walk away from before. Nothing he couldn’t patch up himself. He gently laid you down in the back before pulling out of the lot to his apartment, racing down the highway like a bat out of hell.

---

You sat yourself down at the table and the scenery around you changed again. You were at the café across the street from the hospital you’d worked at. Combat medicine had only lasted so long when you realized you didn’t have a taste for war. It had led you to a nice scholarship for med school though. You’d worked in Hells Kitchen once you’d gotten out. “Hard day?” Frank’s voice pulled you from your thoughts “I think I’m dying.” You murmured, more to yourself than him, or whatever your brain had conjured up as him “Glad to hear it.” You supposed your memories weren’t exactly programmed to change their dialogue to different responses than what they remembered. You took a deep breath and looked around you, trying to remember exactly when you’d been put this time. You’d always hear the whole life flashing before your eyes thing, but you never believed it. What you believed was that you could stop it, that you had to stop it. You couldn’t die yet. You weren’t ready and you sure as hell weren’t going to leave Frank behind to deal with losing another loved one. You looked across the street and tried to come up with something, anything. Maybe you could get out if you just picked the right door. “You wanted to talk about something?” Your memory of Frank seemed to be speaking on autopilot as you stood up from your seat at the booth and began to look around. You began to notice little gaps in things your brain couldn’t place, maybe that was how you got out. “Didn’t think you’d ever want to speak to me again after everything.” “I like to keep up with my patients.” You responded out of habit almost before realizing you were sitting across from him, getting sucked back into the memory once more.

You stood up once more, this time racing for the doorway to the cafe, determined to leave whatever loop your mind had put you in. As soon as you walked through the threshold you were met with the chaos of your workplace. Nurses bounded down the hall past you as a man was wheeled down the hallway on a stretcher. You hadn’t realized you were moving with them until a nearby nurse began to throw words at you. You couldn’t hear her, instead focused on Frank’s face and the handcuffs that kept him locked to his spot. Everything went quiet for a moment, a smile on your face and you realized the fluorescent lights in the hallway seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. Your body seemed to relax despite the panic that surrounded you as if telling you it was ok, that you could let go now. You just had to give in to the feeling of nothingness, to let yourself ignore whatever pain was beginning to sear in your stomach and building in your chest. You almost gave in, almost, but then your vision focused back on Frank’s face. The peace that came with the man being unconscious, the small details you’d recognized the first time you’d met him fitting into their places. No. It wasn’t ok, not if you weren’t with him.

You blinked your eyes hard, squeezing them shut and willing yourself to push through whatever the hell was going on with you. When you opened them back up you were sitting opposite Frank, still in the hospital. You got up from your spot and moved beside his bed. You were the main doctor in charge of his care when he’d come in. You’d meet Nelson, Murdock, and co not long after this since they’d barge in on you while you were treating him the next day. You ran through the motions of checking over his vitals, even though the scene before you was a memory you were still worried something would be wrong with him. You looked to the clock, he’d be waking up in a couple of minutes. You remembered the feeling of distaste for the officers that sat outside his waiting room, waiting for any little issue to arise so they could tack it onto his sentence, or better yet, for them, have an excuse to shoot him. It was your job to protect your patients, to protect people like Frank who had no one else on their side. You remembered thinking that even if he was an awful person it was your job to keep him alive long enough for whoever he hurt to get the justice they deserved. You slipped your hand in Frank’s giving it a gentle squeeze as the beeping of the monitor began to grow louder in your ears. “Somebody needs to shut that damn thing off.” You grumbled, feeling his hand tighten around yours. “Y/n?” The still-unconscious Frank asked and you froze. That was new. “C’mon baby pull through for me.”

Your eyes blinked open, once again met with a bright light and you almost panicked that you’d come so close just to lose your fight right at the end. You turned your head to the side, eyes still adjusting to the light. “Frank?” You’re voice was soft and as you adjusted the way you were laying you were made acutely aware of the pain in your abdomen. A wide smile pulled at Frank's lips and he helped you to settle a bit “Take it easy hun.” He mumbled as he looked you over. You took the time to examine his face, noticing the redness of his eyes and the way they had swollen ever so slightly. “Were you crying?” You asked. Your tone almost sounded like you were teasing him, not understanding exactly how severe things had gotten. Frank let out a huff, leaning onto your bed, his hand never leaving yours. “Your heart stopped baby.” His voice was almost a whisper, like if he spoke too loudly it would happen again. “I thought I lost you.” “Well, you didn’t.” You didn’t really know what else to say, the visions you’d seen in your time between life and death already beginning to fade from your memory. All you really remembered was fighting it. “I wouldn’t let them take me from you. Not now, not ever.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle/reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #hurt comfort #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle reader insert #punisher x reader #punisher/reader #the punisher #the punisher fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu reader insert

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365-days-of-taylor-swift · 5 months

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November Day 23

*full bridges under the cut

Check out the masterpost to vote on more polls

#taylor swift #365 days of tswift #taylor swift poll #polls #taylor swift lyrics #lyrics #speak now #speak now (tv)#speak now taylor’s version

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plasticfangtastic · 9 months

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Can We be Lonely together? Epilogue

a Homelander x Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a GN reader reader fic

Author's note: too self indulgent not to write an epilogue, thanks for reading and am looking forward to making more fics for this fandom, this is Bi Homelander content if y'all read this as fem or non male reader. prev. chapters in my blog under the my fic tag or can we be lonely together? tag will be making a masterlist fairly soon tho.

R18+ mild smut, exhibitionism kink, gore, murder, dub con, dirty talk, surprise butchlander, butcher x reader, 3-way?, amoral protagonist, unreality.

Epilogue

Breeze sang in the ample halls bringing whispers from the balearic sea, a top the mountain overseeing endless azure, greens and neighborhood roofs the world seemed so far away to him.

So many absent walls in this villa, the house was airy and open, blurring the idea of inside and outside with is design.

Cream coloured linen danced against the wind to the seas secret songs, the sun leaving no corner in the shadows, sandy granite warm under the sun, evergreens could be seen from all windows, cascades of green coloured the view, and a pair of cats slept in a guest room.

There was not a sight disturbed by ugly grey buildings, just mountains and sea– left him feeling as Zeus on the top of mount Olympus, inside the airy home only the dull sound of oak ceiling fans pushing the breeze disturbed the halls.

No longer did the steps of strangers disturbed the dull accismus of this temple by the hill, camera crews left most of the home untouched, it had been a busy and exhausting week for Homelander.

Walls had been sparsely decorated, remnants of a past life clung on smooth oatmeal walls and indigo blue wood beecher paneling accentuating one living room of three-- paintings he had grown attached to and the occasional marble statue laid around, but now there were photos of a man one could hardly recognize.

With each new image, time had eroded wounds off his face, there was a glimmer on his features that had never resided there.

Garden pots had been shuffled around for the perfect frame, now he would've had to move them much to his annoyance.

It was the most anticipated interview of the decade, it had gone smoothly, Oprah had been delightful, manly tears had been shed and hair raising stories were shared, she had found him approachable above all.

After a year of silence the whole world was kept on edge awaiting for his return.

The trial hadn’t even televised but they were plenty of updates by the hour circling around-- more than sufficient. Now he had a full schedule, he was to be in the cover of GQ magazine, had some big podcasts lined up for an appearance, and Vogue to model for… it would be so strange to do without his suit.

Homelander sat with his legs dipping into one of his infinity pools, his loosely fitted honeycomb shirt draped around his shoulders like a poor’s man cape, his hair had grown a tad longer, salty seas had turned his flaxen locks almost wavy and a dark thick stubble began adorning his face.

His tablet resting behind him buzzing with a new email, the wrinkles around his eyes sank as he squinted from the blinding wet mirror, distracting enough that your step barely registered.

“You looked quite handsome in the suit this morning…” You spoke gently– I think the people are gonna love your new look… between the tan and the beard you look… sumptuous.”

“I should’ve shaved. They’ll think I look like a complete slob! I bet they’ll say I let myself go.”

You joined him by the pool as the hot Mediterranean sun stood above you, pulling his head closer to yours for a flurry of butterfly kisses.

“You look stunning, mi sol. Either way… lunch is ready… Ryan called and said him and Jaythaniel’s family just made it to Disneyland, don’t forget to pick him up tonite.” You said softly squeezing his thigh– he said he’ll call after lunch.”

He nodded absentmindedly.

“You don’t think Theodore is going to wake up?”

Worry clung to his tongue, his ears picking up the soft lull of his son’s snoring, Blender making biscuits on his sides but the child slept deeply, you could tell he had entered deep REM stage, you shook your head much to John’s relief.

“I can’t believe we are doing this… you spoil us too much.” He kissed your ear before lifting himself and dropping into the pool.

The sun sparkled harshly against the glass tiles, the sky more blue from below, your sinuous reflection watching him until he emerged, the tired breeze doing very little to dry him, you followed him giddy as his wet footprints led you to the wine cellar.

It had been an expensive endeavor to have all of this installed… several 3x3 plastic acrylic panels of 32 mm thickness, a high tech locking mechanism plus humidity and temperature control systems had to be installed independently of a good enough contractor who could reinforce the flooring with a steel mesh and coat the cement flooring with resin just to make it impossible for their friends to dig, there had been many logistical nightmares from finding the right contractors to finding a spot for it, it was easy to sell the strange boxes as a sex thing– blaming having super-abled kids increasingly longer list of powers that made it hard for dear ol’ daddy to get off… especially when the word ‘soundproofing’ had been mentioned, or his super strengths which led to some nasty laughs and a bit of murder later down the track, the last thing that mattered had been costs.

No amount of sound ever escaped the wine cellar, the zinc plates coating the walls prevented Ryan and himself from seeing in or out, Theodore was young enough to listen to instructions, if not it was your turn to discipline the toddler.

Opening that door was always a surprise, bringing him almost as much joy as that first christmas day as a complete family.

As they took the stairs he could smell mullet wine and lebkuchen– the tension in his muscles still fresh as he entered a home that had only existed in childish fantasies, awkwardness that never seemed the fade as the strangers hounded him with questions, but he had had you, Ryan and now Theodore for much needed emotional support, it had been almost perfect as it had been intense, it had been strange to hear all these stories of a woman he had murdered, who had only suffered, it was stranger how her only sister had not blame him for the nature of his birth, still grateful that he had found her even if it took forty years, grateful that something more than a pristine corpse was left behind.

Her body refusing to decay inside that pine box.

The cellar door beeps, and cogs turn inside the heavy metal door, fluorescent lights sung awake by the entrance, bringing much needed light to the dark sub-basement, only the three small lights inside the boxes lighten the area for most of the day.

A woman shuddered, flinching as more light hit her eyes, hiding beneath the bolted desk, you walked past Homelander carrying today's menu, there was something enjoyable about the challenge of creating an ever changing menu that was nutritionally balance, delicious and required no cutlery. The disheveled woman approached eagerly at the floating box, awaiting for you to place her meal, intentionally keeping her starved, this had been his decision for this particular guest-- to see if she would go mad. Due to the lack of windows she had no concept of time after all while the lights were on a timer, they were programmed to be irregular enough to cause confusion. To visit at random intervals and feed her whenever he remembered.

Homelander and John wanted to watch her scoof down her meal, to see her choke and tear up as she filled her cheeks and swallowed greedily– but their attention was reserved for guest number two.

“If I knew I had you getting all wet and bothered for daddy, I would’ve worn something nicer” His voice dry, barely lifting his head from the bed.

Homelander helps himself to the mini bar cracking open some pale ale for the world’s largest paper cup, humming a tune as he prepped today's round of meds while you set his meal.

“Got you pale ale… unless you’d like some peach bellinis?”

Homelander opened the cabinets, rows of neatly organized sex toys, booze and cleaning supplies were displayed– sex toys solely for decor, you both had committed to the bit, much of these had never been used nor did he want to, you had no need for vibrators when his hands did the job so perfectly. He took out a cattle prod, then pressed a code unto a small hidden panel making sure the guest couldn’t peek.

The inner latches came apart, the door hissed open.

There was no need to consider escaping, it was futile, the door upstairs was thicker than the glass, and no amount of yelling got anybody’s attention-- but he didn’t try killing himself either, for the last time he’d tried he had been here in no time, he had a chip monitoring his vitals at all times, and the camera on top of his room watched over him.

You also helped in that department.

Homelander entered first, you placed the food on the floor for Homelander to give Butcher his back.

Almost encouraging him to jump him.

“Would it kill you to wear pants?”

Homelander chuckled as he turned around with Butcher’s meal, wearing nothing but his wet shirt clinging to him tighter than his suit ever did, and black briefs.

“Would it kill you to agree to my offer?”

“Not going to play house with you, stupid cunt.”

Butcher didn’t argue with the meal, taking the food off his hand and sitting by the bolted table, the chair also bolted which made for an awkward fit.

“You got three months left William… these meds might get you one more… it's already been weeks… you want to spend the rest of your days here watching her starve to death or you want to be with Ryan? He wishes to see you. Be there for him… you just have to be with us.”

Butcher bared his teeth, mutterign curses under his breath as he gave him his back.

You entered the room taking the cattle prod tucked under his arm, Butcher ate ignoring him, throwing the tray towards his face, forever amused as to how he never bothered to dodge it, John rolling his eyes as the plastic dropped around him.

“I’m being generous after what you did to Dolores… that was… well… you lived up to your name.”

“Said I’ll get even.”

He had made Dolores into the antithesis of her craft, it had stung, to witness her unrecognizable being-- a DNA test confirming its identity. Close casket was the only choice.

Homelander watched him eat as you prepared yourself, undressing in the corner, fresh bruises adorning your thighs, handprints where he had held you solidly against his mouth.

Closing the door behind, locking Homelander and Butcher inside one box, giddy he jumped into the thin futon.

“Here I thought we were having the world’s most disappointing threesome… all thirteen seconds of it.”

He took a sip of the ale, it was utterly delicious but he wouldn’t let Homelander hear it from his mouth, this his only joy while stuck in this box. He turned to you watching as you opened the door on guest number 1, then back at Homelander already squeezing himself, a wet suther escaped his lips as your nude frame approached her, Butcher buried his brow.

You had ignored her for weeks, fed her irregularly while feeding Butcher on schedule. She survived on saltines and peanut butter, only receiving proper meals on the occasion but never did either of you touched her, or spoke to her.

She squealed as the tip hit her breast, too weak to do more than just scream, he had been so distracted by Homelander he hadn’t noticed the crowbar by the entrance… he could’ve sworn it was his own.

“Families should always have a mommy and a daddy… grandpa and grandma… cousins… but I don’t have any uncles… nor does Ryan have uncles… ahhh” he tugged harder hand fondling the dripping tip of his hardened member– just like that pumpkin.”

His skin crawled at the sight of the awoken thick member as he pulled it out his tight underwear, with a wet snap.

He turned to you, watching her face split red as you smacked her face with the cattle prod, she clutched at her cheek, blood spilling from the sides of her fingers, a distressed mess tried escaping you. You grinned as you felt Homelander excitement, his chest flushed as you gave a parry of messy heavy swings, she cried and as she covered her face you shocked her hands off until your eyes met, turning limp while Butcher’s heart accelerated, craning her neck, she opened her mouth leaving it frozen mid-air as you took to the crowbar.

“Pick a number of teeth … or Pusher will take the whole jaw” he whispered as he laid long languid strokes on his cock, rubbing his thumb on the glistening tip– or you can say yes”

A curved tip pressed right behind her upper chompers.

“One…?” You muttered– that’s not going to excite you right, mi sol?”

Homelander pouted, slowing down his hand, focusing on the base with short lived pumps.

“Break her jaw– let’s see how long she’ll last before she starves to death… she might dehydrate first, no?” He scoots patting the empty spot on the bed encouraging Butcher to join him— make it clean babe.”

You take the tip out her mouth and get in position to tap her jaw.

“We’ll visit in a week… hope you last my dear William.”

Butcher stood up, still with enough energy in him to fight, he might be dulled by the meds, exhaustion and his captor's cruel tactic.

“Kill her you wanker just bring some fucking fabreeze.”

You grinned mockingly, breaking more than her jaw, her body thud and her voice returned smashing her skull repeatedly caving into a pancake. Homelander groaned, edging himself as your vicious attacks drew your victim closer and closer to death, legs moving on their own, pressing his forehead against the wall, the sight of your bloody torso didn’t just titillate him, he craved the sight, knowing the glass stood between you two, knowing how far away you were and just how untouchable you were was better than any x-rated video, your ragged panting, the sweet sweat falling from the tip of your chin, blood specs bejeweled your body, was too much.

You had become more than he had ever imagined, you pressed your behind against the bloodied wall as you caught your breath.

Butcher could only try to ignore your sick kinks.

Homelander will bring as many innocent people he could and make him take part of their scenes, he whined as you got out the cage, walking painfully slow towards his– ignoring him in favor of the minibar, his hand stopped with a sneer, turning to see that Butcher had skulled down the last of his ale.

“You know he’s being nice asking you… I could just make you say yes…”

Butcher looked back at the mass, almost flinching as the woman was back on her feet, her face a torn mess but there she was still eating the last morsels of the chunky yiros with her torn jaws, for every bit of garlic sauce that dripped down her hands there was an equal amount of chunky blood spilling unto the ground.

Deepthroating the yiros more than eating it.

Her face just hanging by red ribbons, one eye swollen and bulging while the other just hung out of her socket, clumps of broken scalp swinging with the weight of her once straight hair, now dirty and matted.

She turned to see him sensing she had been watched and her face had no bruises.

He looked back at Homelander then back at the corpse now immobile, rotting, fluids escaping its bloated body, gangrenous pus seeping thru its sunken eyes while the skin darkened and dried, now his nose picked up on the revulsion, he looked at his drink and figure out that there was no drug in him– Homelander was back in his bed, his cock tucked in and not a sight that he had moved once, his toothy grin more real than the full cup fizzing in his hand, your breath warming Butcher’s ear.

Months, weeks, days, hours… he had no clue how long he actually been here, this was an illusion… some of it… tragically you two were disgustingly real.

“You want to break me into compliance?”

The white glow of your eyes not as menacing as Homelander's lasers, he took a short sip of his beer letting it dry his tongue, feeling the warm building in his stomach.

Hot fingers creep from around his hips, exploring the softened torso, he is still strong and firm under the weakened body, the illness making it hard to maintain his shape, hot water dampened his shirt, nails bruising trails as he trapped him, pressed tight against the leaner man, craning his neck to place his chin on the older man’s shoulder– no doubt floating to do so.

Before he could protest further, before he could do more than curse under his breath and wriggle, your teeth met the underside of his chin.

Intertwining your hands with his free one, no doubt he could snap your wrist but a little red light shone next to his head, telling it wouldn't be a good idea.

Homelander closed his iron grip around Butcher’s neck, leaving him gasping, feeling his pipe collapse slightly.

Your tongue licked his neck, your touch more gentle, more tender but to his shock Homelander only purred, you both stared at each other lovingly, Butcher’s neck nothing but a barrier between you two, you climbed to meet his lips, while your loved was manhandling Butcher lower so Homelander could give you wet, loud and messy kisses.

Arching him much to his displeasure, the beer spilling down his arm.

Squeezing harder on his neck, Homelander eyes are coloured a pretty dark pink, he grunts pressing Butcher into him, begging for friction.

You two kissed the older man missing his lips, feeling him shudder, kissing the blanket of goosebumps all over his body.

You loved him more than anything.

You would make him happy in all the ways that your body could.

And sometimes things are easier to do when he just communicated them, usually that would involve murder but now it was this.

Butcher had no idea what he had to say yes to. what exactly you two wanted out of him, and he had yet to spot the hidden vial of V in the cabinet.

John giggled as Butcher's hateful glare tried to burn him.

“Is okay… you’ll be the one fucking me…” he needily purrs– right, pumpkin?”

“Just let all that hatred out… make him cry…” you whispered into Butcher’s ear– make him your bitch.”

It had been his own mind that picture the blonde’s cock, that had been his own worst nightmare, but as he felt those needy kisses– be it the beer on an empty stomach, your powers or the tumor pressing on the smart sections of his brain he chortle at the thought, straining his neck to see the desperate flush on the blonde, his grip loosening, allowing him to turn just enough.

This could also be a part of this illusion.

“You just wanted to be daddy’s cute little slut?” he spat– my cum dump?”

Homelander let out the most obscene moan from within the depths of his core, you felt the heat rising from your own loins as you heard him.

Butcher tugged at your scalp, yanking you away from him.

“Both of you are such weird needy bitches… is okay… I’ll make you both into my good little whores.”

Breathy moans, both men eager to see this new game of yours play out, you would make him happy, please him, take care of all his needs… it was easier when you also felt just a tenth of that spark the first time you met William.

Unlike the last ones before these brother’s you would never grow out of love… you had so much to give after all… and he had so much to give you still.

What a bad thing you two were.

#homelander #personal #my fic tag #can we be lonely together?#homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander x butcher #butcher x reader #I am esl sorry #will post a masterlist soon to make it easy to read the prev chapters #just tryign to make a mood board as a cover #this was not proof read btw #homelander x you

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annoyinglyobsessive · 8 months

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Villain x Hero

The party was, to be perfectly honest, pretty boring. You would think that a party thrown by a shit ton of rich people would be more interesting but honestly it was alot of just standing around. There was some dancing going on in the center (to a live orchestra!) but the villain didnt have anyone to dance with so he just stood in the corner sipping champagne and wondering why he had even come.

All of a sudden there was a ruckus, everyone turned to look at the door as a new guest was announced. Hero. he walked into the room looking way too fucking attactive in a black waistcoat, black dress pants and white button up, sleeves rolled up in a way that made his forearms look absolutely delicious, and he should not be thinking these thoughts. That was his enemy for christ sake. It was just that his enemy looked so fucking good in formal wear.

Hero looked over at villain and they made eye contact, then he started over to the corner that villain was standing in. ‘shitshitshit. Why is he coming over here fuckfuckfuck’ the villain thought taking a long drink of his champagne before putting it down. The hero reached him and gave him a devilish smile.

“Why villain, whatever are you doing over here? Are you not enjoying yourself?” he asked, voice silky and smooth.

“Do we have to do this here hero, there are so many people around. Arent you worried about collateral damage?” villain asked, staring past the hero and trying very hard not to look at his soft full lips and sparkling brown eye and- no stop, just look at the pillar past his head.

“Oh darling” he said and the villain almost died right then and there. “Im not here for you, im here for a personal friend”

“Ah i see” so you'll leave me alone then?”

“Well i didnt quite say that”

“What do you mean?”

“Well seeing as no one has snatched you up yet and havent done anything particularly villanous tonite, would you care for a dance?” the hero bowed slightly and held out his gloved hand. The villain accepted hesitantly and heroes long fingers wrapped posessivly around villains hand as he led him over to the dance floor.

“Why would you ask me to dance?” villain said as they started dancing, trying, and failing, to distract himself from heroes hand on his waist, his body pressd up against him as they swayed.

“Well i couldnt just let this opportunity go to waste, why do you think i came to this party in the first place?”

“You said it was for a friend.”

“For a villain you are rather bad at spotting lies my dear”

the villain sucked in a small breath at the nickname and was it his imagination but was the heroes hand slightly tighter around him?

“Wh- what do you mean” the villain said trying to retain his composure.

“Well when i hear you were going to be at this party i just couldent pass up the chance to see you in a suit. And i do say the sight does not disappoint.” he definitely wasnt imagining this time. The hero had pulled him closer, and, was that heros leg pressing slightly between villains?

“What are you playing at hero?”

“Im not playing at anything love. What? Scared of a little harmless flirting?”

“From you?”

“Oh darling your so much fun to tease,” hero said pulling away as the song ended. “Cant wait to see you again” and with that he walked out the door and back into the cold night, leaving villain alone to contemplate the interaction he had just had with is sworn enemy.

#lgbtqia #gay #villain x hero #confident hero #flirting #dancing at a ball because fuck it it's a good trope

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missvelvetsstuff · 2 years

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Low Expectations

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is low on self esteem when she meets Bucky. Can he convince her that she's the one he wants?

Warning: swearing and a little angst. Almost Canon compliant

Notes: just a simple story. Might be a couple of chapters if anyone is interested. Much of the situations, people and dialogue are from my real life. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Let me know what you think or if I should keep going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N and her bff/roommate, Terri, were putting on the finishing touches before going out. "Terri, do we always have to go dancing? Once in a while I'd like to go somewhere that plays rock n roll, I'm full up on EDM and dance pop"

"Next time, I promise but I heard this club is supposed to be really good."

Y/N looked down on her tiny friend, being almost 6 feet herself "Good like great music or good like lots of hot guys?"

Terri smirked "Why not both?"

She sighed, maybe this place would be different. Every club or bar they went to all the guys flocked to Terri's side and she was practically ignored by everyone but the bartender. She didn't blame Terri, it wasn't her fault that she was a natural platinum blonde who tans like a freak and was a genius with make-up and clothes. Y/N on the other hand was tall, taller than a lot of men, curvy wearing a size 14 compared to Terri's size 2 and barely wore make-up. Life was too short to spend hours on your face.

It wasn't different. She sat at the table while guys lined up to dance with Terri. A couple bought Y/N drinks and tried to chat her up but it didn't take long for them to start asking about Terri. One guy that looked old enough to be her father but with his shirt unbuttoned and way too tight pants did ask her to dance but she couldn't bring herself to say yes.

After that she stopped agreeing to go out, claiming work or a headache or cramps or anything she could think of that might convince Terri to leave her out of it.

After a couple of months, Terri had enough.

"Y/N! I'm home now come on, we're going out tonite!" the door slammed as Terri walked in.

Y/N sighed "But Terri, I have a meeting in the morning and can't be out late drinking"

"No, no, no. You haven't left the house for anything but work in months. When is the last time you had a date or got laid? You'll never meet anyone like this." Terri scolded

Y/N shook her head "Like I'll find some meaningful connection at a bar. Geez, you sound like my aunt."

"Maybe but I'll bet your aunt has gotten laid more recently than you have" Terri teased

Y/N rolled her eyes, her aunt was a party girl who never grew out of it even in her 50's "Keep up that kind of talk and you'll turn me off of sex forever. Definitely for tonight"

"Oh no you don't. Freshen up and let's go."

"Fine but two drinks and I'm coming home. I really do have a meeting." Y/N smirked "and we better go somewhere that plays some rock."

At the club Terri picked up the first round and started looking around the room for potential victims. She stopped when she saw a good looking guy with a beautiful smile and gap between his front teeth and a brunette sitting together with her nemesis Tina Larson hanging all over the smile.

She nudged Y/N "Look at Tina, sleazing all over tall dark and handsome. I'll bet you the next round I can steal him away from her. I'll even direct the brunette towards you, his hair is kinda long, like you like."

Y/N's eyes got wide "Isn't that-?" Terri nodded.

Y/N shook her head "That's a sucker bet, no guy actually wants Tina Larson all over him and all of them want you. The brunette is cute but not my type."

Terri scoffed "He's totally your type! Why are you talking yourself out of it without even meeting him?"

Y/N shook her head "Because none of them even look at me when I'm with you. Remember last time? You had like 8 guys clamoring to get near you and a creepy senior citizen asked me to dance. Go get handsome but leave me out of your schemes."

She pulled out her phone to keep busy while Terri worked. She was distracted from her phone when Terri came back with TD&H and his friend. Smirking at Tina who was glaring daggers at Terri.

Terri sat on the smiles lap "Y/N, this is Sam and James, boys this is Y/N."

Y/N smiled "Nice to meet you"

They sat and talked for awhile before Y/N excused herself "Sorry but I have a meeting at work in the morning."

James stood and offered to walk her out "Could I get your number?"

She looked at him skeptically "It's ok, you don't have to. I know Terri is the goal."

He looked at her confused "What are you talking about?"

She shrugged "I know Terri is the one you guys always want. Being nice to me helps but sleeping with me is a big no no. She's a bit of a slut but won't touch you if you hook up with me first. Friend rules."

James shook his head "I'm not interested in Terri, she's not my type. I like talking to you."

She laughed "She's not your type? That's a new one. Look, you're cute and probably awesome in bed but I'm not interested in a pity fuck. I always hate myself in the morning."

He looked at her oddly "Did I do something to offend you?"

"No, I just know how things go. You can have my number but you won't call." She smiled sadly at him. "See you around"

James smiled "Yeah, I'm definitely gonna call."

A few nights later Y/N got home from work exhausted and raging from hormones, cramps and the creeps at work. She ate dinner then ate an edible and settled down with her heating pad to read in her room when Terri poked her head in "You sure you don't want to come? Maybe tonite is your night"

Y/N laughed "Sorry but I'm comfortable here and my cramps finally calmed down. Go have fun for the both of us."

Awhile after Terri left, her phone rang. Y/N didn't recognize the number so let it go to voicemail. Then she got a text

It's Bucky , we met the other night. I did enjoy talking to you and would like to do it again if you'll have me

Bucky?

Sorry, it's James, Bucky is my nickname

She laughed, he was the first guy to even bother trying to contact her in ages. The phone rang again, she answered

"Hello?"

"Hi, Y/N. This is James. We met the other night."

She was still laughing "I'm impressed that you called but I'm uh, med-i-ca-ted" she made air quotes that he obviously couldn't see "so not sure how interesting I can be"

He smiled "I have a feeling you are pretty entertaining when medicated"

"It's not my fault. I have vicious cramps and cannabis is better than opiates. OTC meds don't work." She explained matter of factly.

James blushed, glad that she couldn't see him and stammered a little "Oh. I see. I'm sorry you have to deal with that."

"It's not your fault, just life. Plus I had a shit day at work. Some of the men I work with are real cunts. You're not a cunt are you James?"

"No, I mean I try not to be."

She yawned "That's not very convincing. Are you sure?"

His brain scrambled for a way to convince her. "What if I prove it? I'll make you laugh. A cunt wouldn't make you laugh"

Y/N giggled "Probably not on purpose. So prove it."

He started

"Three pregnant women were sitting in an ob/gyn office talking about becoming mothers and speculating on the sex of their babies.

-The first one said 'I got pregnant with my husband on top, in a manly position so we are going to have a boy'

-The second one smiled 'My husband and I were in a womanly position with me on top so I'll bet we have a girl'

-The third one burst into tears and when the others asked her what's wrong she bawled out 'We're having puppies!'"

Y/N laughed out loud and James thought it was beautiful. "So what do you say?"

When she finally stopped laughing enough to speak she replied "Ok, that wasn't bad, you might not be a cunt. I guess you can call me again but I'm about to crash right now. Bye James"

"G'nite Y/N" James sighed softly as she hung up.

The next few days they spent most evenings on the phone getting to know each other. She was trying to fight it but could feel herself falling for him. She was afraid of having her heart broken. Again. But she couldn't help herself. He was so sweet. And funny. She really wanted him to be for real but still had her doubts.

After 2 weeks James was finally able to convince Y/N to go on a date with him.

She told him about a diner she had discovered when she first moved in with Terri. "It looks awful but it's clean and the food is perfection. We used to save up change and share a plate of fries and a shake once a month. When we were too broke to go out. Now we go for important milestones and celebrations. The bacon-avocado-cheddar burger is orgasmic. Seriously."

James laughed "Wow, how could I possibly say no to orgasmic. Meet you there at 7 on Friday?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you Friday. But now I have to get some sleep. G'nite James."

"G'nite, Y/N"

On Friday morning Y/N fussed over her clothes and make-up a little more than she usually would on casual Friday, even letting Terri do her make-up after promising to keep it light. She wore black jeans with a purple peasant style blouse and black booties. She left her hair down and added some dangly earrings.

When she was finished, Terri stood back and whistled at her "I'd totally do you" and they both giggled.

By the end of the day Y/N was wound up from excitement and too much coffee. Her work friend Sheila was trying to get a group to go for happy hour but Y/N begged off, whispering "I have a date"

Sheila squealed "Ohmygod, tell me!!

Y/N shook her head "Nope. I don't want to jinx it. You'll just have to wait till next week."

Sheila winked "Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do?"

Y/N laughed "That leaves pretty much everything open but I don't want to get ahead of myself. See you on Monday."

When Y/N made it to the diner she was already 10 minutes late and her date wasn't there. She sighed but tried to stay hopeful and sent him a text. No response after 20 more minutes so she texted him again, hoping he was ok, and headed home. She tried not to cry but was really disappointed. She really thought he might be for real but a better offer must have come along.

Bucky was on a plane with Sam heading out to deal with the remnants of the Flag Smashers. He kept checking his phone, shaking his head and swearing. He knew Y/N would think he stood her up but he couldn't get a signal. He was really looking forward to seeing her again and hoped she would forgive him when he got home.

Sam just watched and shook him head "You alright over there, Robocop? Need some help with your phone?"

"No, I was supposed to meet someone for dinner tonight and I can't get a signal to call her"

Sams eyebrows went up "Her? Did you find yourself a girl Barnes?"

Bucky blushed "No. I don't know. maybe. Remember when we met Terri and her friend Y/N?" Sam nodded. "Well, Y\N and I have been talking a lot since then. She's kind of insecure, I guess Terri always gets all the attention when they are together and I don't want her to think I stood her up but I can't get a fuckin signal."

"I'm sure she'll understand if you explain when you get back"

Bucky shook his head "But then I'll have to tell her who I am. I don't want to scare her away."

Sam chuckled "Since Terri knew who I am I'm pretty sure your girl does too. Since she has been talking to you since that night I think you'll be alright."

Bucky paled "Are you sure? Fuck! I gotta find a way to call her."

Sam tried to calm him "Look, give me her address and I'll have Torres send some flowers after he drops us."

"I don't have her address. I haven't seen her since that first night and we were meeting at the diner tonite. I finally meet someone who seems real and everything blows up. This is the universe telling me something, I-"

Sam patted him on the shoulder "Don't be a drama queen, man. It's just a hiccup. You'll explain when we get back." He flashed a shit eating grin "So she's pretty cute right? I remember she was almost as tall as you. What's she like?"

Bucky smiled "She's sweet and smart and funny in a silly but sarcastic way." His eyes glassed over as he thought about her.

When Sam told him it was time to go he cleared his head to focus on the mission and tried not to think too much about her.

Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #low expectations

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grosserboyfriend · 1 year

Text

redguybruary. yeah? yeah.

afab reader (no prns used) x puppet red

size kink + like. inadvertent breathplay? yeah. + animalistic tendencies woooo i had to go wild for my grand return. monsterfuckers win tonite!

is there even still an audience for this? we’re about to find out

MINORS DNI. no age indicator in your bio = blocked.

the noise that came out of you would have been embarrassing, if it were audible at all.

—

first, some backstory, to try and rationalize exactly how you found yourself in this situation, crushed into your mattress by your roommate-plus-partner-in-witnessing-the-horrors.

when you had awoken the first time in that house, you had no idea where you were or how you had gotten there. scrambling down the stairs and into the kitchen, you’d been met with the mildly surprised faces of… a green duck, and a little yellow dude. you’d assumed that if the red guy had visible features, he would have looked surprised, too.

the three seemed to already know each other, but with time - and a handful of traumatic experiences - you came to fit in just fine. the only thing off, in your opinion, was the way red consistently found ways to avoid you. unfortunate, since you couldn’t deny that his height (a whole six foot six) and dull demeanor were horribly attractive.

tonight was the night you had resolved to put this perceived beef to rest. cornering him after duck and doi had gone to bed, you had asked very simply: “what did i do to you?”

your question had been answered with a long beat of silence before he lunged forward, large hands landing on your waist - and oh, they nearly fit all the way around - and pulling you into him as his teeth latched onto your neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. you’d made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a shriek, a shuddering breath leaving you as a growl rumbled in his chest as a response

i wasn’t doing anything wrong, was i?

—

so that brought you here, with red’s full body weight crushing you into the mattress and leaving you gasping for air as he slid his cock into you, inch by inch as if he were enjoying the absolutely pathetic gasps coming from you. in a brief moment of clarity, you thanked your stars for landing you in this strange fantasy-environment where anything seemed to be possible. if you weren’t here, you were positive that red’s cock would have ripped your insides apart. you could feel him brushing against your cervix, and the thought that he wasn’t even inside you fully made your cunt clench as a new wave of lust washed over you.

large hands yanked your hips up higher, and you could vaguely register the tickle of red’s hair on your back as he hunched over you, pressing himself deeper into you and causing you to gag on air, drool seeping into the sheets where your mouth was. he didn’t speak, but you felt a pleased groan rumble in his chest as he began to move, motions slowed by just how tight you were. he had thought of this moment countless times, but he didn’t think he could make it last, not with you struggling for air and rocking your hips back underneath him.

whatever. he doubted you’d be opposed to doing this again. if he wanted, he could have you again, and again, and again...

the thought made his head swim, and with a groan that vibrated through you, he sank his teeth into your shoulder as he came. the feeling of his hot cum inside you made you squirm as best you could, a ragged sob escaping your mouth as he fucked his cum into you, teeth still sank into your shoulder. between the asphyxiation, the blood trickling down your back, and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full, you felt as though you’d faint. every nerve alight, you keened as your orgasm hit you hard enough to make you fall limp on the bed, twitching as what felt like endless ropes of cum finally ceased and red slid himself out of you, far more careful than he had been at any point in the last hour or so.

those same hands, now more careful and delicate than any hands that large had a right to be, ghosted over the bite mark on your shoulder before you felt the bed shift as red stood. “i’ll, uh, clean you up.” he mumbled before you heard him shuffle off, leaving you to relax into the sheets.

if this was part of your new normal, you weren’t complaining at all.

#dhmis smut #red guy smut #red guy dhmis smut #bug spray #RAHHH this is super short but whtv #i love subby red but i love animalistic quiet insanebrained red too

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satelliteduster · 7 months

Text

should i watch full metal jacket tonite *scratching head

#nocturnal writings

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shadowjax · 2 years

Text

Red Orchid

Silver Bullets pt.2 A03

{previous}

Donna Beneviento x reader/you

Series Summary: The head gardener has taken you under his wing and as you grew older you viewed him as a father figure. You and the young mistress grew close over time but due to mysterious events she shut herself out form the world. A childhood crush left inevitable yet impossible. Soon other servants and inhabitants of the manor began to disappear one by one. Eventually the head gardener left without a trace and yet you stayed, where would you even go if you ran? The night became more dangerous as the years went by, screams echoed through the night homes left untouched.

Warnings: little steamy/human experimentation, violence, paralyzation, heartbreak, self sacrifice, tell me if u missed anything

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

The full moon had lit your path up well enough tonite. Your boots crunched in the snow as you clutched your machete tightly. The wind may have died down but the lycan numbers had only increased as you heard them all over. People shouting, guns firing, and blood spilling. An occasional fire breaking out here and there, the village had become a war zone. The most lycans you have seen since they started to appear, Miranda must be planning something. Best time to strike while she is busy making sure things go according to plan. You noticed an odd amount of birds in the trees, as if they were filling you. They probably were, knowing Maranda, she has eyes all over. Luckily the lycans had seemed to not bother you as you made your way through the village. An occasional villiger had pleaded for your help but you remained vigilant. No need to waste your energy. White snow had turned bloody red beneath your boots.

You finally made it to Miranda's building, your heart still tugged at you to get alway. Your last chance to turn back was right here.

You turned your back towards the permafrost outside and in the warm arms of another. A night of rest then waking up in a comfort you had been seeking out your entire life. The morning had crept its way like a gust of wind. Your lady’s arms protectively wrapped around your body, happy of your return. You watched her soft and steady breathing patterns, studying her sleeping unveiled face. A friendly face that has brought you joy as a child. Oh how those few pleasant memories can not outweigh the painful ones. You could simply escape into the first and start anew, but that would be frivolous. You knew what dangers lurked inside the village, who knows what lurks beyond the familiar area.

Miranda had answers you’ve been searching for your entire life. She was the cause for everything gone wrong in this village. For all the death and pain she caused you, the lords, and those dumb ass commoners.

The art of revenge, a quick poison that slowly kills the body as long as you acknowledge its existence.The answers to your questions are so close within your reach, you can’t stop now. Somewhere you knew even if you turned around right now things wouldn’t go back to the way they were before anyway.

“I’m sorry my lady, but a peaceful life was never an option for me as well as for you.” You whispered those words and kept your head low, eyes closed for a brief moment of silence before the chaos unleashed itself. You looked forward, eyes filled with determination as you stepped into Maranda’s hideout.

“I see you’ve come alone, what poor timing on your part.” You found her in the center of the room, raven wings on her back, a black moss had scattered around the room and was pulsating as if it were alive. She turned to face you, eyes dripping black ink.

“I’ve come for answers!” You clenched your teeth and held onto your machete as tightly as possible. “And you know that.” Before you could take a step forward something had latched itself on your throat and lifted you off the ground.

“I must admit you are one of my more successful subjects. Let’s see how that little parasite is favored?” Her grasp on your throat had tightened as you were pulled closer towards her.

Her gaze pierced through your bones, sending chills throughout your entire body. Heart pounding in your chest, catching fire. You tried to claw your way out of her grasp but she was too strong. You attempted to kick but not prevail. You gathered what little strength and used your machete to cut your way out of her grasp.

Miranda screamed in pain as you fell to the floor, gasping for air. “UGH why you LITTLE!”

She sent another black moss your way which hit your chest and sent you back flying into the wall. You could feel something breaking as you made contact. You fell onto your feet and knelt to the ground, trying to gather your strength again. Something inside if you tugged for release as your head began to pound. You did not fight as you felt your heart tighten and the pain slither up your neck, your right shoulder blade aching as something broke free from your skin. A bat-like wing sprouted itself out and spread open to stretch, blood dripping down your back. A surge of indescribable strength erupted throughout your entire body, setting it ablaze. The other half of your face becomes numb as the entity inside your body takes over.

“That’s it, let the battle commence. But do make things quickly, I’m on a tight schedule.” Her wings expanded and the ground beneath you began to shake. She remained in the center as her molds did her bidding, pushing you around and throwing you to the ground.

You shredded through the mold with ease, doesn’t mean she was going to make things easy for you. She was still stronger no matter what, though you were faster. You slid behind her with ease and landed a blow to her back, a mold winded itself around your ankle and launched you into the air and threw you to the ground. Spliteres pierced through your jacket and tore it to shreds. Before she landed another blow you rolled to the side, barely escaping. You managed to successfully doge a few of her attacks, only to be caught when something coiled itself around your neck and squeezed tightly and you gasped for air again. You were at eye level with Miranda again.

“Such defiance, you need to be taught a lesson.” Miranda said blankly as she crept closer. She placed a hand over your heart and something stirred inside you. This little bit of power you had inside began to eat you alive, crushing your soul. You screamed and squirmed like a dog for some sort of end to the pain. You felt your bones breaking from the inside, “You wish for answers, you’ve had them all along.” She let you go as you laid in the ground and another memory played in your mind. “We’ll, here is my gift to you.” Miranda spat before she flew off.

You had died the night you fell down the waterfall and Miranda had brought you back to life. Your father saw himself unfit to raise a child, unknowing Miranda was the reason his family had died to the lycans in the forest. He gave you up and hoped the people he gave you to would take better care of you, although the village had changed them entirely. They weren't the most grateful or nicest anymore, you had become a burden to them. They were glad to be killed by the lycans a few nights later, leaving you alone for the second time in your life. Your mind, unable to cope with being alone again, created the illusion of them still alive. You had forgotten who your father was and viewed these visions as your parents instead.

When some unknown feeling leads you back to the Benivento manor your father had noticed but did not reach out. You felt a familiar connection with the man but the entity in your body had not allowed you to remember. All you had ever wanted was a family, to be alone in this disastrous world and only experience loneliness had scared you to the core. Was this entity Miranda had planted inside of you the cause for your future connection with the mistress of the Benivento manor?

Tears pierced your eyes as smoke filled your lungs. As you regained consciousness you noticed a giant hole in the ceiling like someone broke it open. A fire had spread around the building and spread to the planks above, the mold clearly not comparable with fire. Your body refused to move, screams could be heard from outside of the building. You turned yourself around and attempted to stand up. Your entire body was aching and legs kept shaking as you slowly walked out of the building. But before you made it to the exit you heard a loud crash and looked up, then everything went dark for a moment.

When you came back the side of your face burned in agony and you were no longer able to feel your legs. You got a quick glance behind to see that your legs were trapped under rubble. You were free to crawl to the exit but your legs wouldn’t budge and it felt like you were ripping your body in half. It didn’t take long for your energy to completely diminish. Tears fell down your cheeks in defeat, you laid face down on the ground just waiting for your death. It was slow and painful while the smoke filled your lungs. Your last bit of strength was used to hold your wooden box close to you and you let the memory play out in your mind while your body slowly gave out and finally gave up.

“I’m sorry I could not be your white knight, my lady…..” The last words you had spoken before your world became dark and quiet. A quiet peace at last.

Your first kill is always the most memorable, especially when that was the night you stumbled upon the manor for the first time.

Things at home weren't easy and you had to learn to take care of yourself from a young age. Begging had become a formality but eventually everyone began to turn their heads the other way. Stealing had become easy once the monsters at night began to attack at night, leaving stores empty while the owners were dragged away into the woods. Except for one particular night you had been spotted and fought for your life.

You observed this small bakery/farm and the family’s behavior patterns throughout the day. Waiting for the right moment to strike when the night enveloped the skies. The family lived above the room their shop was in and when you successfully snuck in a few shouts from above startled you. Not a moment after you stuffed your makeshift bag and exited the building a body was tossed out the window and landed in front of you. The body of the mother had been torn to shreds and the image has forever been burned in your memory. You look back to the seceding floor like an idiot and make eye contact with the father whose body had changed in ways that almost made him unrecognizable.

The 7ft mutant leaped from the broken window and landed in front of you, slowly making his way towards his next prey. A surge of energy rushed through your veins followed by a wave of confidence that came from nowhere. You grabbed a long glass shard from the cold ground and held it in your hand, getting in a fighting stance. Although this beast may be bigger than you, whatever this adrenaline rush was had made you faster. You were able to easily dodge his attacks and struck his throat that was left exposed when you slid underneath. The creature fell and your eyes locked on a young girl not much older than you whose eyes are filled with horror.

In her hands were a small gun she pointed towards you, her hands shaking significantly. “You… you killed him… you took my family AWAY FROM ME!”

Before you could move the sound of a billet echoed through the night. Luckily due to her inexperienced and unsteady grip she missed. You weren't sure what caused your attitude to shift but you felt no fear and took a step closer to the child. In a matter of moments another warning shot was fired, this time you managed to dodge the bullet as if knowing where exactly it would fire before it was lit. You had gotten terribly close to the barrel of the gun when the sound of screams could be heard in the distance. Mixed with the screams you heard barking as well, could spot hounds running your way. Being smart enough you decided to run as quickly as you could.

You ran towards the edge of the village where you came across a familiar bridge you had never seen before. It was made of wood and ropes, not the safest thing but the only option. Howls could be heard not too far and you carefully made your way across the old bridge. Everything from your knees down had begun to feel cold due to the quality of your clothes, the fierce winds of the mountain piercing through your shirt. After a lovely trip through a path along the dark woods you stumbled upon a giant manor.

The cries of the dogs echoed not far behind and you threw yourself at the gates blocking the manor’s entrance. The bars were too small to crawl through and the gates were too far for anyone to hear with the winds. To the side there's an edge leading towards the bottom of a waterfall, you wander towards the edge hoping that there’s another way around the gates. There isn’t much space between the gates and the very high fall above freezing water. The sounds of the waterfall overpower the dog’s howls in the distance, your hands hold onto the frozen bars for dear life. A familiar fear spreads throughout your body as you imagine yourself plummeting to the bottom into the water. When you finally reach the garden behind the manor you spot a small shed with a faint light.

You run towards the building and kick against the gates. Your attempts to shout are silent when you feel a stinging in your throat. Not a moment later a figure kicks open the door with a shotgun and a lantern, quickly glancing around the area until the light blinds your eyes. The figure runs off to the side, unlocking the gates and gesturing for you to quickly follow. You attempt to run inside but your legs refuse to move, you can’t feel them anymore and you fall in the snow. Next thing you know you’re being wrapped in a warm blanket and being carried into a hot room. You assumed it was the mix of frostbite and exhaustion but something about this place felt familiar. The word father was on the tip of your tongue, must be the exhaustion causing you to hallucinate.

The sound of the waterfall was comforting, you opened your eyes to find yourself standing near the edge between the entrance and the bottom. You attempt to remember how you got here, last you remember there was a fire… Something causes you to look down and you notice there is a tombstone in front of where you were standing. Your name was etched in stone, your body was translucent. No wonder you couldn’t feel the chill of the wind or the droplets of water fly in the air.

“Gasp!” A familiar voice rang out and you turned to the left to find your lady standing beside you, her veil was covering her face but you could hear it in her voice her tears were filling her eye.

“I have returned, my dear. Just as I promised all those years ago.” You shut your eyes and cracked a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. What you didn’t notice was a permanent scar of the cadu traveling up your neck was visible as well as a burn from when your face was hit, leaving a half smile. Flames dancing from your jaw to the tip of your forehead.

Turning into a ghost didn’t really phase you after all you've experienced living in this village. You couldn’t exactly control when you’d appear and disappear, when you’d disappear it would lead to a dreamless sleep. One of the few times you appeared the sound of a gunshot echoed, fear spreading throughout your soul. You ran into the manor quickly to find dolls everywhere, some furniture was out of place and droplets of blood were tainting the floor. The sound of stone cracking came from above, when you saw what had caused the disruption you froze. There stood a tall man with a pair of scissors in his hand and a pile of broken stone. You brushed past the stranger as you surveyed the area and you spotted a familiar doll beside the rubble.

Is this what had become of your lady, just a pile of rubble. You feel at peace for some reason clashing with a fiery anger bubbling towards the stranger who killed your Lady. You simply turn towards the stranger and launch yourself at him. Throwing him and yourself out the nearest window, landing on a pile of freshly fallen snow. You pushed yourself off the strange man and paced a few steps back while he took a moment to stand back up and regain his bearings.

You reached out for something to come at your call and what came to your rescue was a bundle of vines sprouting from the ground and holding the stranger in place. They slowly climbed their way around the stranger and began to tighten around him. The more he kept struggling the more guilty you felt and once you regained your sense you let him go. Your lady was finally at peace, it was time for you to be at peace and join her.

“Take out Miranda and all this will be over. Heisenberg is a decent person, he’ll give you what you need.” And like that the man scurried off into the woods. Moments later the sound of a growl and a gunshot rang in the distance.

“Are you just going to stand there or are we going to go?” Pops appeared behind you, how you’ve missed his voice.

“Pops?” Tears filled your eyes and you ran into his arms. “I never got to thank you for everything!”

“Look how you’ve grown, I’m sorry I left you to fend for yourself. I had no idea that they’d treat you so terribly. C’mon, let’s get out of here. Wouldn’t want to keep the Lady waiting now do we?” The two of you walked back into the manor and a bright warm light filled the room.

You awoke to the sound of someone calling your name, “…it’s time for you to wake up. Breakfast is ready and everyone is downstairs.” Her voice was recognizable and when your eyes adjusted to the light you remembered her form when you were younger. She was one of the first servants to disappear mysteriously.

“I’ll be there in a moment.” You spoke instinctively. You weren't sure what room you were in, let alone who’s room. Elegant casual clothes were left at the foot of the bed and you tossed them on them and quickly made your way down the stairs of the manor. The smell of delicious food filled the room as you made your way down the stairs. It’s been years since the place had felt so lively, too long. You stepped into the dining room to find Lord and Lady Beniviento, a lady who resembled your lady but you didn’t recognize her, your father, and of course your lady were all sitting at the table.

All eyes fell as you entered the room, “Morning sleepyhead.” Your Lady rose and kissed you on the cheek. She wore no veil and her hair was in a wavy ponytail, her eyes sparkled like you’ve never seen them before. She ran her fingers through your hair in an attempt to fix it.

“My Liege, breakfast is served.”

“I'm going to go help my wife in the garden, thank you for the meal.” Pops stood and headed out the door. Mom?

“I think it’s time we head into the village dear, care to join us Claudia. Lady Dimitrescu is expecting us to present some samples.” Lord and Lady Beniviento and Claudia left upstairs as well, leaving you and your lady alone in the dining room.

“So my love, we have the manor to ourselves today. I see Lydia choose your good outfit, care to join me for a picnic later.” She placed a hand on your chest while the other one massaged your scalp. Her eyes were beautiful, there was a light you had never seen before shine in her eyes.

While gathering things for the picnic you spotted Vivian and Angie on a shelf in your shared room. Seeing Angie so lifeless you half expected her to jump out and something not appropriate.

“You all set dear?” Your lady was waiting for you at the back door, her black sundress illuminating her pale skin.

“Of course, my dear.” The two of you walked hand in hand into the woods. That eerie feeling you became familiar with had left and you felt a comfort you had been searching for years to find, Home.

BONUS

Draft idea for the end:

“What happened to POPS?!” You begged your lady to answer, warm tears staining your cheeks. “He became one of Maranda’s experiments… I swear I did not know until afterwards.” “Is he that THING around Claudia’s grave?” “Yes… I’m so sorry.” You took a deep breath and signed heavily before speaking, “I know it wasn’t your fault. Let’s discuss this again in the morning, I need to sleep on this' ' you kissed her goodnight as she fell asleep in your arms. But you weren’t able to sleep at all, something in the back of your mind nagged at you. You rolled your lady out of your arms, giving her one last kiss goodbye and paid a visit to mother Maranda. ~~~~ Thinking back on what made you so determined to seek her out wasn’t quite clear. You wanted wanted have a family, hoped to form a family with your lady. But that day won’t ever come. Your determination for revenge was stronger than your wish for something you searched tone whole life for, something that was never given in the first place. Maybe it was the repressed feelings whenever you’d push something aside, the cadiu in your chest, or a combination of both. You wanted mother Maranda’s tournament to end, for the villagers and the lords who all suffered because of her. The battle didn’t last long, it ended in flames burning the thing keeping you alive. Your box holding the flower crown was the only thing that remained, underneath the ash for your lady to stumble upon. ~~~~ When you were little you died falling off the edge of a cliff and hitting the waterfall’s bottom. The gardener pleaded for his child to be saved and Miranda agreed if she would allow him to be experimented on. He agreed and she planted a cadou implant in your heart. Feeling unfit as a father he left you with some old friends of his in the village but they soon died due to lycan attacks. Your father thought you were better off without remembering him and the accident. Your mind and the cadou created the illusion your ‘parents’ were still there. Unable to handle the thought of losing two sets of parental figures, imagining and forgetting you were alone had been easier for you to adapt to as a child. ~~~~

Twisted alternate ending??

Miranda had complete control over your body, she was the host of the cadou. It was natural for it to follow her in the end. Your skin was devoid of all color and your eyes pale with no sole or will to fight left. Your soul is buried in the ash of the roof. The sight of becoming a soldier of her’s had deeply bothered the other lords and even if they wouldn't admit it the sight had terrified them. Your Lady had pleaded with Miranda to free you but knew this creature wasn’t you. You died in the fire, your body is just a vessel for Miranda to use.

What a nightmarish thought that came into your mind, luckily nothing along those lines came to be true. The fire had completely destroyed your cadou which in the end killed you. Things remained dark for who knows how long, the concept of time irrelevant. The sounds of the waterfall had woken you from what seemed like a bad dream. Although you found yourself standing by the side of the waterfall, you couldn't feel the snow beneath your feet. Or the wind that had blown the freshwater into the trees to form icicles.

BONUS

The art that started it all

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x oc #resident 8 fic #resident evil 8 fic #angst #donna beneviento fic #donna beneviento x you

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kitty-of-mischief · 2 years

Text

Chibsy drabble

(This is a drabble mindless shameless self insert fic with the sexy Scotsman we all know and love. No warnings really unless a little stripping bothers ya. I did some editing and corrections on it but if I miss some, apologies. It was about 2-3am when I wrote this a couple weeks ago. Otherwise, enjoy :D )

@vulgar-display-of-escapism here it is :)

Another dollar another day, the local watering hole for any and everyone thatt kept Kat's pockets from being empty on her lively hood. The in-laws and outlaws shared this space as if they were equals as they had for many of years. Cherry’s was a strip bar out on the interstate that brought any and every kind of person that could be welcomed there.

Just like any other Friday night, packed with a room full of sweat, testosterone and estrogen. Kat swam between the tables around the karaoke stage and floor crowds but dead center of the room was a raised mini stage with the pole attached to the ceiling. Along with karaoke, they'd have amateur pole dance contests every week. Not only did it turn into a blast every time it brought booming business from in and around Northern California for miles.

"Everyone's getting lit for the pole contest tonight aren't they?" Kat's coworker laughed as she made it back to the bar in a ring of sweat. "This is ridiculous." Kat fanned herself, "I'm going to the back for a fresh shirt." Before she could move however, the familiar roar of motorcycles made her smile, "And do me a favor, sweetie. Go clear out the round booth near the stage, thats the VIP table for them." With a smirk she headed to the back.

Outside, the group of riders with a reaper on their backs were shutting off their bikes and parking them on the side of the building that always stays reserved just for them. With cheers and pats as more of the brothers from other chapters were rolling in and parking, the guys were agreeing to a good time.

"Alright boys, let's show our brothers the second home away from the clubhouse. Gemma's in her office so queen crow is here. Boys, be on your best behaviors okay?" They all chorus replies to Clay, the chapter president as they all head inside with their chapter brothers.

Cheers echo through the bar as they grace the common people with their presence. Kat emerged from the back in a black crop top with the bottom fringed out and sleeves scrunched up on her shoulders to pair with her camo washed denim shorts. She fluffed her fresh copper-burnt curls and grinned when two of the boys hoisted her up on their shoulders.

"There's my boys, finally. Was thinking you lot were not showing up." She giggled while they helped her back down. "We couldn't stay away sugar. Plus, there's a lonely Scotsman who's been pining about ya all week long." Clay said while hugging her and turning her towards said Scotsman, Filip 'Chibs' Telford. Her kryptonite. "Lass, the hair. Yer looking beautiful, all red like and those precious curls." Chibs grinned as she slid her hands inside his cut for a hug. "God, ye smell lovely tonight." He rests his head on top of hers and makes her giggle as he runs his hands up and down her back. "Why you boys must bring this charming lad around me, you know it gets you everything you want." She sighs while laying her head on him. "I gotta work, we got the pole dance contests starting in an hour. Your booth is being cleaned and ready for you fellas." "Appreciate it, sugartits." Chibs said while resting a hand on her backside. "Yer mine an' ah'm gon' let em all know tonite." "You better because next time, I'm going with you to the clubhouse and we're gonna let all them nasty little crow eaters know I'll kill em and I'm your old lady." Kat sasses at him and he makes a 'o' face at the boys. "Go sit down, I'll bring drinks." The boys hooting and hollering all the way to their table while patting Chibs on the back. Kat grinned while going to the coolers behind the bar.

"Beers for my boys." Kat sets the tray down in front of them at the booth a few minutes later. "And Jameson for my old man." She slides a glass over to him with a smirk as he flashes a sly grin and pulls her into his lap. "Rough week baby?" "Mmm the worst. Need'd ta see my girl. And my girls." He runs a hand across her stomach, ghosting closely to her chest while placing kisses to her cheek making her squirm in his lap. "We missed you too. I'm off all weekend if you want to take me back to Charming with you tonight?" She combed her fingers through his soft salt-n-pepper locks. "Ah'm not bout ta say na' to my old lady riding back wit me tonight. Nah mor drinks fer me then." He said while moving the glass away from him. "Keepin ya safe." "Well since it's getting all official. Can I still have my little fun tonight? I was gonna surprise ya with entering the contest because I know there's bound to be talk." She continues to comb her fingers in his hair and he softens up at her touch. "Lass, if it involves ye on that pole up there shaking that cute lil arse of yers, Ah'll be rite by the stage. I ma' git a bit territorial of ya but ah'll never keep you from fun." He places a finger under her chin and turns her towards him. "Promise."

They share a quick peck on the lips before Kat unwillingly gets up from his lap and goes to the back to the changing area where a few girls are preparing up for the contest.

"Alrightttt ladies and gentlemen, are yall ready for the evening's entertainment?" The male emcee for the night got it going. Predominantly the roar of males through the entire bar were cheering for the pole dance contest. "Our amateur ladies are making their last touches on outfits and such so we shall discuss our rules and judges. Tonight, the boys of the Charming Samcro chapter have volunteered their services to declare the winner of the contest!" Cheers lit up the room once more. "Now, the theme for tonight seems to be a country for each lady so we have beauties from all around the world tonight on the pole. Boys, I'm so sorry you have the heavy burden to judge." Jax, Opie, Chibs, Bobby and Juice all waved and cheered for the responsibility.

"Each gal has picked a song to walk out to and such, they will give a show for the duration of it and anything goes but no one touches any of the girls for any reason." The emcee said with all serious in his tone, "I do not want any trouble tonight for the girls or for our honored guests. Now are yall ready!?"

The contest got underway with a few girls ahead of Kat's performance. She smirked while doing her last looks in the mirror and bouncing her curls before pulling her silken robe around herself and going to the lineup area. The girl before her chose "Porn Star Dancing" as her song and Kat couldn't help as she dances a little bit on the side of the stage while smirking at the judges table. Chibs doesn't even have his eyes on the current girl dancing as his eyes are watching her, fueled by curiosity of what could be beneath her robe. With a grin, she clapped for the girl finishing up and felt the butterflies now as she was about to show off her assets to the whole bar.

"Alright gents, we finally got her talked into getting up here on the pole! Everyone's favorite little bartender here at Cherry's. Kitty's gonna give us a show of a lifetime!!!"

The beginning of Fat Bottomed Girls started playing and the crowd went wild as she approached the pole with her hips swaying out, most especially for her one and only old man in the center of the judge's table. She stomped a bit with the beat and got everyone going for a moment. She wasn't skinny like the other girls and she knew it but she held it confidently and had practiced several nights alone in the bar so it was finally time to show it off. She laid her hand on the pole and hooked a leg around to spin just a little bit, teasing the crowd a bit. With a smile and a bite of her lip, she untied the little material that held the robe up and could hear the group gasp as it dropped. Whistles, catcalls and all kinds of mutterings around but the Samcro boys had their eyes on Chibs whose jaw was on the floor. Custom-made outfit clung to her assets with the bra and panties proudly flying the Scottish flag.

"Sweet jesus." Chibs muttered as she got on with her dancing of twists and spins that he didn't know she could do.

With a final spin, she stopped and leaned with her back to the pole her hips swaying left to right and slowly, agonizingly slowly to Chibs, slid down the pole into the splits for her finish and the whole club roared aloud but she kept the garments on for her dance, the only one to do so because she had respect for her old man and no one else got to see what was covered except his eyes in private settings. She pulled her robe back on though despite the crowd's dismay and whispered to the emcee before going off stage.

"So that was the astonishing performance from Kat, who just said she's ineligible for the prize and just wanted to give her old man a good show." The crowd groaned at the fact she was taken but Chibs sat there happily grinning with the boys laughing around him.

"Ah that's ma' lady!" Chibs proudly yelled and stood up, receiving cheers a bit but some mumbling assholes near the stage glared at him in jealous rage. Kat came back to the area with her clothes on and found her way behind the judges table. Quietly she slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms over his shoulders to which he pulled her around on his lap and she found out just how much he enjoyed it as she felt the bulge in his pants. "Yer so god damn beautiful, luffie."

"Good to know that I'll have my prize later. Gemma told me I'm done for the night because both my tip jars are stuffed full now so she's letting Maddie take over for me." Kat hooks her arm around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder. "Half the room ran fer the jars instead of throwin' it atcha on stage. Bet they regret it nah they know ye got an old man." He rubbed circles on his back, "I was just waiting fer ye to get done. We can go get ya stuff for the weekend and head back to Charming."

And just like that, despite all the scantly clad women in waiting for the contest, booze, and bro time that was to be had, Chibs would leave it all just to head out with her. She placed her hands on his cheeks gently caressing over them as she placed a passionate kiss to his lips. He cared not for the rest around as he held her close. She pulled away with a smile.

"Let's get out of here and go home, old man." She patted his chest and got up. They both said goodnight to the boys and received a few looks before going to retrieve her pay for the night and heading out the door. "Gemma said she'll drive my car to Charming since she rode with me today." "Lookit ye, already in gud order wit the queen herself." He smirked while handing her the helmet for the ride. "Ye said ye was hungry right?" "I'm starving, my love. I had to keep from bloating my stomach for that performance tonight so I haven't ate today." She snapped her chinstrap in place just as she received a smack to her rear-end. "Wit 'ave ah told ye bout skimmin' on food?" He put his hands on his hips and gave her a stern look. "It was one day I swear. Just today. I'm gonna stuff my face with greasey interstate breakfast food I promise." She looked down like she was being scolded. "Ye better. Cannae 'ave these girls going away." He laid his hands on her chest so gently and moved them down her to her hips. "Or this beautiful arse goin' anywhere." She leaned into him when he grabbed her rear and made soft incoherent noises. "Let's get the food to-go please." She mumbled while he grins and gets on the bike with her following after him. He kicks the bike over and they speed off down the highway on their midnight ride.

~ Chibs got the door open for them, exhausted from what should have been forty five minutes turned into two hours later than expected as they couldn't wait for home to get a piece of one another. Chibs dropped their things off before he went to the door to meet Kat who brought the rest of their things and tiredly smiled at him as he took it from her. She slumped against the doorframe as she fumbled to get her calf-high boots off, sighing in relief when they are off. With ease she walks a bit to get the cramps out of her feet and legs, striding to the kitchen with their food. Whether it's 3 am or 3pm, they will have their food at the table together. Setting their meals up in their containers, she grabbed a couple utensils and set them on the table. She went to go change into a more comfy set of a shirt and sleep shorts she brought with her while waiting for Chibs to finish checking in with the club.

Chibs came inside after he had talked to Clay for a moment and rubbed his tired face before looking over to see Kat in his shirt and her shorts, waiting patiently at the dinner table with a smile for him. He kicked his boots off by the door and shuffled over to join her so they could eat a quick bite before they put the leftovers up for morning and went to their room. Kat climbed into bed while Chibs got himself ready for bed. She snuggled under the blanket and rested her head partially on his pillow. He came and joined her in his light sleep pants and she curled right into him with ease for a night of rest to have the stamina for their usual morning routine of waking each other up.

#sons of anarchy #chibs telford #tommy flanagan #fanfiction #chibs x oc

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starfckerz · 1 year

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tonite's fantasy is getting all dolled up for someone, full face of makeup, flowing skirt, stockings and lingerie and perfume and a pale pink fur coat and being someone's arm candy, at a gala or ball or extravagant party and sipping from a champagne flute while clinging to his arm, dazed and bored and just letting him do the talking. his hand slowly slipping up my skirt on the cab home while im gritting my teeth with a flushed face and squeezing his arm cause i want more, but he just looks the other way all disinterested. and he finally gets me into his condo/penthouse/whatever and unbuckles his pants and looks at me expectantly, and i'll get to work quickly-- 20 minutes later his head is back against the wall as he sighs around a cigarette and fucks into my mouth, and my mascara is dripping and lipstick is smudged and im hastily fucking myself w my fingers; luckily he couldn't care less what i do, as long as he can fuck me at the end of the night, it doesn't matter. and finally he hoists my skirt up, pushes my lace panties aside and fucks into me (doggystyle of course, cause he doesn't need to see my face like this, like i'm his wife) and i'm biting into a pillow groaning and drooling and he's gripping my hips so hard they bruise, fingers over my garter belt while hes growling into my ear about such a fuckin' crybaby, pathetic little bitch, c'mon, lemme hear what a bitch i make you, good fucking mutt taking my dick and when he comes in me i'm gasping and sobbing and whining just like a girl, and he roughly manhandles me, flipping me over and kissing me so fucking hard my head is reeling and hes biting my neck and marking me up, i'm not fucking done with you yet

#shoulddd tag these #txt

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manwalksintobar · 1 year

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Mugging (I) // Allen Ginsberg

I Tonite I walked out of my red apartment door on East tenth street’s dusk— Walked out of my home ten years, walked out in my honking neighborhood Tonite at seven walked out past garbage cans chained to concrete anchors Walked under black painted fire escapes, giant castiron plate covering a hole in ground —Crossed the street, traffic lite red, thirteen bus roaring by liquor store, past corner pharmacy iron grated, past Coca Cola & Mylai posters fading scraped on brick Past Chinese Laundry wood door’d, & broken cement stoop steps For Rent hall painted green & purple Puerto Rican style Along E. 10th’s glass splattered pavement, kid blacks & Spanish oiled hair adolescents’ crowded house fronts— Ah, tonite I walked out on my block NY City under humid summer sky Halloween, thinking what happened Timothy Leary joining brain police for a season? thinking what’s all this Weathermen, secrecy & selfrighteousness beyond reason—F.B.I. plots? Walked past a taxicab controlling the bottle strewn curb— past young fellows with their umbrella handles & canes leaning against a ravaged Buick —and as I looked at the crowd of kids on the stoop—a boy stepped up, put his arm around my neck tenderly I thought for a moment, squeezed harder, his umbrella handle against my skull, and his friends took my arm, a young brown companion tripped his foot ’gainst my ankle— as I went down shouting Om Ah Hūm to gangs of lovers on the stoop watching slowly appreciating, why this is a raid, these strangers mean strange business with what—my pockets, bald head, broken-healed-bone leg, my softshoes, my heart— Have they knives? Om Ah Hūm—Have they sharp metal wood to shove in eye ear ass? Om Ah Hūm & slowly reclined on the pavement, struggling to keep my woolen bag of poetry address calendar & Leary-lawyer notes hung from my shoulder dragged in my neat orlon shirt over the crossbar of a broken metal door dragged slowly onto the fire-soiled floor an abandoned store, laundry candy counter 1929— now a mess of papers & pillows & plastic car seat covers cracked cockroach-corpsed ground— my wallet back pocket passed over the iron foot step guard and fell out, stole by God Muggers’ lost fingers, Strange— Couldn’t tell—snakeskin wallet actually plastic, 70 dollars my bank money for a week, old broken wallet—and dreary plastic contents—Amex card & Manf. Hanover Trust Credit too—business card from Mr. Spears British Home Minister Drug Squad—my draft card—membership ACLU & Naropa Institute Instructor’s identification Om Ah Hūm I continued chanting Om Ah Hūm Putting my palm on the neck of an 18 year old boy fingering my back pocket crying “Where’s the money” “Om Ah Hūm there isn’t any” My card Chief Boo-Hoo Neo American Church New Jersey & Lower East Side Om Ah Hūm —what not forgotten crowded wallet—Mobil Credit, Shell? old lovers addresses on cardboard pieces, booksellers calling cards— —“Shut up or we’ll murder you”—“Om Ah Hūm take it easy” Lying on the floor shall I shout more loud?—the metal door closed on blackness one boy felt my broken healed ankle, looking for hundred dollar bills behind my stocking weren’t even there—a third boy untied my Seiko Hong Kong watch rough from right wrist leaving a clasp-prick skin tiny bruise “Shut up and we’ll get out of here”—and so they left, as I rose from the cardboard mattress thinking Om Ah Hūm didn’t stop em enough, the tone of voice too loud—my shoulder bag with 10,000 dollars full of poetry left on the broken floor—

November 2, 1974

#poetry #Allen Ginsberg #beat poetry #New York City #New York #mugging #East 10th Street

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phantastus · 2 years

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Yo, if you're doing the character bingo, I gotta ask about Heather Mason

SLAMS STACKS OF NOTES DOWN ON THE DESK (jk i do not have the energy to go into full sicko mode tonite, but you know how it is).

"Everyone but me is wrong about them". I have seen some truly incomprehensible fanon about Heather throughout my years on the internet and it has resulted in me becoming incapable of being normal about her. I do my best to suppress this because despite the frothing beast within going BARKBARKBARKBARK I genuinely do want everyone to get to enjoy Heather and SH3 in each of their own respective ways. Unless you are a cishet man drawing her with giant balloon tits. I'm going to maul you like a wild chimpanzee.

"I'm obsessed with their character arc". TROUBLED YOUTH PLAGUED BY HARROWING CIRCUMSTANCES NAVIGATES MYSTERIOUS OTHERWORLD, DISCOVERS SHE IS ACTUALLY A CREATURE OF TERRIFYING POWER AND POTENTIAL, CONFRONTS PAST TRAUMA, PROVES "NURTURE" OVER "NATURE", AND SAVES THE WORLD BY FIGHTING GOD??? sign me the FUCK up 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my selｆ 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠＯOOＯOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit

"They got done dirty by the fans". See former note about cishet men deciding that the scrappy tomboy teenager would look much better with a real set of badonkers. Bonkhonagahoogs. Humungous hungolomghnonoloughongous. I'm going to turn into an extra from the Walking Dead and chew some skulls open.

"ADOPTION PAPERS". BABIE.... BABY GIRL...............

"I am rotating them like a fork in the microwave". See former note about me not having the capability to be normal about Heather Mason. I have been doing this for over a decade and my interpretation has only ever gotten more deranged.

"The popular ships for this character suck". Honestly I don't think there actually ARE popular ships within canon for Heather anymore??? WHICH IS GOOD HONESTLY I'm all for shipping Heather but for awhile there was a lot of Heather/Douglas and Heather/Vincent and even (puking in my mouth) HEATHER/HARRY around and let me tell u I did not care for that ONE BIT. One of the things I really like about SH3 is that the closest thing to a canon romance for its female lead is the tragic childhood bond between Heather/Alessa and Claudia. For actual SHIP ships, I will stick to putting her in ridiculous crosscanon RP ships with anime villains and also Laura Palmer.

"constantly listening to songs/holding them up like paint swatches". I have Heather songs coming out of my freaking ears please listen to them: "Black Dahlia" (Angel Haze), "God's Got Nothing On You", (Thea Gilmore), "Little Secrets" (Passion Pit), "Invincible" (OK Go), "Fear of Fireflies" (Calla), "A Better Son/Daughter" (Rilo Kiley), "Rejoice" (AJJ), "Forces of the Unseen" (Cloud Cult), "Black Eyes" (Radical Face), "Shake it Out" (Florence and the Machine), and of course that classic "Welcome to the Black Parade" (My Chemical Romance). And because I'm a fucking nerd, go ahead and also have the two songs I picked out as her main themes from the two most prominent RPGs I've played her in the past fuckifIknowhowmany years: "Inferno" (Promare OST) for the slice of life Pokemon game, "The Crow" (Dessa) for the monster-horror game where she got turned into a cannibal bird thing.

"what's wrong with them (affectionate)". [slaps top of Heather's scruffy dandelion head] this baby can hold so many issues.

"not enough screentime". More Heather is always the answer. There should be an optional setting for all SH games where there's just a live Heather reaction cam in the corner the whole time.

"My opinions would be received with wasps". I mean I am always on some level assuming that everyone around me is responding to my stronger opinions with that one photo of white girls holding solo cups and judging the viewer. AND PERHAPS THEY ARE RIGHT TO.

"The best character in the work". I mean. I am pretty biased.

#Silent Hill #Heather Mason #kit rambles about silent hill #please do not worry about me judging other heather interpretations too hard #every heather is valid and beautiful #i am just Deranged

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kiruuuuu · 1 year

Note

I really hope you make more Recruitverse fics one day, because it's honestly a CRIME to leave it on "and that 'we', once again, doesn't Include Jojo." like KIRU PLEASE HOW COULD YOU DO THIS

WELL, @noivoom, you are absolutely correct that I cannot leave my five idiots there! Your ask(s) were actually a large reason why I wrote some more recruitverse a while ago and now I'm finally getting around to posting it 😊 I hope you enjoy it 💝

It's from Shay's POV and also part of my ongoing advent calendar - this is day 5 ❄ (Rating T, chaos as usual with some emotional hurt, ~7.3k words)

The message comes out of absolutely nowhere.

Well, kind of. They have been exchanging texts all day, so receiving another one is hardly out of the ordinary, but it’s the content that catches Shay unaware: btw my flatmates are both gone tonite wanna come over?

And oh boy, does he ever. There’s no need for a saucy wink or an aubergine emoji, the intention is a flashing neon sign Shay plans to heed. Admittedly, Jojo’s coaching sensitised him to the topic and the simple rhyme of ‘home alone, she wants to bone’ stuck in his head so well he found himself scribbling it down in his notes absent-mindedly, earning him a stern talking-to by Thatcher of all people (and that’s a conversation he never wants to have again, ta very much), but all this doesn’t matter because it’s finally going to happen. They’re gonna do it. He’s going to get with a girl he really likes.

“I can’t believe it”, Valenti speaks up from the other corner of the locker room. Shay’s mind is so filled with everything Brittany-related that he instantly assumes everyone must be sharing his excitement and blurts out a thrilled: “I know, isn’t it amazing?!”

Three aghast faces turn in his direction, while Gian’s eyes are glued to the floor. They don’t look like they’re talking about Brit at all, oddly enough.

“Shay, shut up”, hisses Jojo – which, fine, he’s been holding a grudge over something Shay must’ve done a while ago as he genuinely can’t remember what it is, so his dismissive attitude comes as no surprise, but Ivan merely shaking his head in disapproval clues him in. Something bad has happened.

Hopefully not so bad that it cockblocks him. He quickly taps an enthusiastic reply before joining the others with an appropriately grim expression. “Can we do anything about it?”, he wants to know, because he’s first and foremost interested in a solution. A solution means he can leave early, and leaving early means he’ll get to see Brit sooner, and seeing her sooner means -

“You don’t know what is problem”, Ivan states, and of course he’s right.

The only one who takes pity on him is Gian, even paler than usual: “Through a series of unfortunate events, Jagriwo came into possession of my notebook.”

“Who?”

“You’ve really lived under a fucking rock this past month, haven’t you”, Jojo snipes at him again with more vitriol than Shay is used to, “I’ve been barred from saying ‘Jacob Griffin-Worthington’ all the time, so we’re calling him Jagriwo now. A name just as unintelligible as the asshole himself.”

“Ah, alright”, Shay nods, since it makes perfect sense, and only then does it hit him with the full force of a lorry: their self-declared nemesis somehow stole the very book holding all of Gian’s most intimate thoughts – or so Shay assumes. He’s never actually read a single line from it as he supposes it’s like a diary, personal and private. Valenti once reported accidentally skimming over a page and not understanding a thing, so it might be written in code, who knows. In any case, this is bad news. “This is bad news”, he states for everyone else’s benefit.

“We’re past the stage of shock and impotent rage already”, Valenti waves him aside, “it’s time for a plan. How do we get it back? Ideally before the prick reads it?”

“It is possible he remains unaware of the confused bags”, Gian replies with vague hope, “he and I carry the same make. Has he not yet unpacked his, we might -”

Just then, an eerie sing-song reaches their ears in the distance, uttered by an uncomfortably familiar voice: “Hey mo-rons! Come look what I ha-ave!”

They grimace in unison. There’s little better at uniting them than a common enemy, and the annoying wanker facilitates it immensely. “Guess that answers the question”, Valenti speaks what they all think. “Let’s go see what he wants.”

“Aren’t you guys a sight for sore eyes, thank you for turning up so obediently”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington drawls in an overdone posh accent, probably thinking it makes him sound cool. Their two groups are opposite each other in the already cramped changing room now, Jacob’s posse having joined them after Jojo willingly communicated their location – there’s four other henchpeople flanking Jacob left and right, two of which Shay knows a little. He wonders whether Jacob chose to make four friends in total to match them, just in case they’d ever have a dramatic one-on-one fight involving personal vendettas and experts in the same field clashing against each other.

“As I understand, I have a little something you would like back”, their fellow recruit continues and waves the familiar object in front of him, the small leather-bound book they’ve all seen a million times whenever Gian jotted down random thoughts or the events of the day or possibly tomorrow’s weather. It remains a mystery to Shay. “And I’m very interested in hearing what you’re willing to offer me in return.”

“So you’re blackmailing us”, Valenti summarises succinctly.

“Let’s not put it in those terms, this is merely a friendly … exchange, I would say, after all -”

“Are you doing this because you’re jealous that we’re actual friends?”, Shay blurts out and experiences a satisfying touch of vindication when their collective nemesis falters.

“Uh, no, I’m just -” And before he can regain his composure, Ivan Ivanovic has stepped forward and snatched the notebook out of his hand.

The ten of them stare at each other for a long moment. Ivan hands the book to Gian, who immediately shoves it into his pocket. Jojo performs a very rude gesture with both hands, reciprocating Shay’s grin once he notices it.

“Don’t think I didn’t take any photos!”, Jacob threatens with the pathos of a small child.

“Break his phone, too, Ivanko.”

“I do not like to destroy private property.”

“Oh, since when do you Reds care about that?”

Jagriwo’s comment earns him a dark look. “I do not extend same courtesy to noses.”

“What do you even want?”, Gian tries to move the conversation along. “What do we possess that you desire?”

This time, the others shift and exchange quick glances, the lone girl speaking up in Jacob’s stead: “You got into South Carolina. We want it.”

Oh.

Yeah, fair enough, Shay gets it – there’s a limited amount of spaces for the special training course in SC and Thatcher asked them to apply for it in groups, which explains why Jacob suddenly surrounded himself with these cronies to form a team of five. Until just now, they didn’t even know their nemesis wasn’t selected. No wonder his mood is this rotten. “You can have it, honestly”, Shay replies easily, shrugging; he’s not keen on the camp anyway, it sounds like way too much work.

Instantly, Valenti fixes him with a disbelieving stare. “No he can’t!”

“Didn’t you say it was a kindergarten trip for dummies who haven’t passed Rainbow boot camp yet?”

“But that was before I knew they didn’t get in!”

“I’ll gladly give up our spot”, Jojo agrees. “If they wanna crawl around in the mud for three weeks, let them.”

“They don’t even deserve it. If they weren’t chosen, they shouldn’t go.”

“Excuse me?!”, Jagriwo interjects, incensed, “You guys have been licking Thatcher’s and Sledge’s boots, which is the only reason you got accepted and we didn’t!”

“Allow me to correct”, Gian joins in as well now, “we lost a wager and involuntarily tended to their every need as a result. It was far from an attempt to ingratiate ourselves.”

“We betted that Valenti could go week without arguing during training”, Ivan adds with a side glance towards the very same.

“Hey, I tried to let it go, but that simply wasn’t how boules is played, you don’t try to hit your opponent in the head with -”

“This is why we lost bet”, Ivan interrupts the angry Frenchman, indicating him in his entirety. Which only fuels his anger.

“You know, this isn’t the time, but let me educate you on the sports of my people. It’s a long-standing tradition and I’ve played it with my sisters on every single one of our -”

“Just take our spot and we’re even”, Jojo addresses the slightly lost-looking recruits opposite them and Shay is all for it – the faster they get this resolved, the earlier he can ditch everyone.

“They don’t deserve it!”

“Do we not?” Jacob is genuinely miffed now. “How about a competition, huh? We’ll figure out which group is better at their jobs, and the winner gets to go to SC. If you win, I’ll delete the photos. If we win, we’ll get to do what we want with Giovanni’s notebook. And trust me, I’ve found things in there some of you would prefer to remain secret.”

Oh no. He hit Valenti right in the competitiveness, there’s no way he’ll let this go. They exchange a few glances, the upset Frenchman predictably determined, Ivan curious and Gian fatalistic. That’s two in favour already, and Jojo suddenly seems to have changed his mind and doesn’t look willing to concede anything anymore either. Odd. Normally, Shay would be on his side and ready to fight these tossers in a heartbeat, but today…

“I’m kinda busy”, he mutters apologetically, sparking an outraged expression on at least two of his friends’ faces.

“This is our chance to outdo these self-important wankers!”, Valenti hisses.

“You know we can still hear you, right?”

“Fine. Let’s do competition”, Ivan agrees on their behalf and with that, their fate is sealed.

“This is all my fault”, Gian sighs into their midst as they’re huddled together for warmth next to the running track. Winter is in full swing and while they’re not blessed with any more snow, the icy temperatures make for a poor substitute.

“Doesn’t matter, we need to talk strategy now”, Valenti shoots back. “What do we know about them?”

They’ve decided on five disciplines embodying skills all operators are expected to excel in, though Jacob invented a few extra rules: the teams can choose each other’s champion and nobody can be picked twice. Shay very much suspects that each team is secretly relieved about that last rule as they both have a weakest link.

… though he’s not entirely sure which one is theirs. Ivan Ivanovic surpasses them in nearly everything, Valenti comes very very close, Jojo is a skilled shooter, fighter and amazing with electronics, and Gian is just a jack of all trades, really. So Shay can’t really pick who’s worst.

“I don’t even know who the fuck they are.” Jojo is eyeing their opponents critically. “I know Jagriwo, but the rest?”

“The thin bloke with the full beard is Whip”, Shay offers his limited knowledge. “We got accepted at the same time and he’s alright unless you’re up against him, then he’s scary. I wouldn’t go with him for this.”

“How about the Asian? She is tiny”, Ivan suggests to which Gian shakes his head emphatically.

“I have had the misfortune of sparring with her in the past and though her physique is not the most imposing, she makes up for it in ferocity. I would only wish her on my worst enemy.”

“Jagriwo is a beast and that one dude is way too tall”, Valenti decides, “so it’ll have to be the Spanish guy. What’s his name again?”

“Maradona.” Since Shay has loosely hung out with most of the other recruits, he remembers some names here and there. “He’s Spanish, called Diego and a football fanatic, they had to give him that nickname.”

“Maradona it is then.” They shrug, unsure of what to expect, and turn to their adversaries to announce their choice.

“Your funeral”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington grins. “We’ll nominate Rogers.”

“Looks like they haven’t seen me fight”, Shay comments as Gian sighs and prepares to actually throw hands for his diary – Shay fancies himself the worst hand-to-hand combatant in all of the SAS and wears that title with pride. It’s not easy to stand out in their organisation.

“Darling, everyone has seen you fight. Mostly because you make the weirdest noises when trying to punch someone, so you draw a lot of attention.”

Jojo and he exchange a quick smile that warms his heart despite the biting air invading their lungs. The whole situation has an absurd aura, he’s pretty sure Jagriwo cares about this way too much and will probably harp on about their defeat forever (in case they lose, which doesn’t seem that unlikely), but for the first time in months, if not years, Shay is too disconnected from their shenanigans to bring himself to get into it. His thoughts are with Brit as are his priorities, and so he hopes all this will be over soon.

That said, Gian and his opponent have only just entered the ring they drew in the half-frozen mud, getting into position. The first challenge is about strength as much as it is about technique: leave the ring or fall to the ground, you’re out. A clever grip could mean victory just like a hard shove would, and the champions are of similar build and height, granting no obvious advantage. Gian blocks the kick aimed at his thigh and is, in turn, hindered himself before the two circle each other, cheered on by their respective teams. When next they lock arms, Shay realises this could take a while.

“Did you forget to get rid of your venomous snake?”, Shay asks when he spots Dante’s head poking out of Gian’s sleeve, likely wondering what the fuss is about and being confronted with a close-up of Maradona’s face.

The Spaniard no doubt catches sight of the snake and lets out an unmanly shriek followed by a defensive jump backwards – right outside the assigned ring.

Total silence for a few seconds. Nobody seems sure how to react, Jagriwo’s expression is utterly dumbfounded and his team isn’t faring any better.

“Let’s get a move on then, lads.” And before anyone can even think about complaining, Shay turns and strides away. He’s got places to be.

“Alright. The second challenge is all about technology. We may use it every day, but do you actually understand the devices you’re using?” Jacob Griffin-Worthington is probably going for a tension-building game show host of some sort though it’s obvious he’s shaken up by Gian’s near-instant victory half an hour ago. His group is falling apart, the only woman not even listening to him anymore and instead texting incessantly, Maradona and Whip still arguing quietly in the background – only the Swiss recruit whose name still eludes Shay is reticent as always, staring them down with a scowl surpassing even Valenti’s on a bad day.

“Just tell us what to do”, sighs the very same, visibly done with Jagriwo’s theatrics.

“No time for a little pizazz, hm?”

“Not when you’re basically blackmailing us into this, no.”

“Whatever.” Like a professional bully, the Englishman ignores the accusations and sets a laptop onto the table between them. They’ve relocated to the canteen, accepting the risk of getting spotted – not that they’re doing anything illicit, but if they ran across Thatcher he’d surely find a way of making them do work regardless of what it is they’re currently up to. “This belongs to Blitz. Don’t ask how I got it, I have my ways.” He wiggles his eyebrows and absolutely nobody is impressed. Everyone knows Blitz forgets his stuff everywhere all the time. “Whoever is chosen as champion has to crack the password and access the laptop under Blitz’ own account.”

“Why would we need to know how to do that?”, Valenti complains, not noticing how Jagriwo’s brows rise at the indignation in his voice.

“Guess we’ve already found our champion.”

Shay is just happy he doesn’t have to do this or else he’d probably end up disappointing Jojo even more. There’s something going on with him, their interactions don’t come as natural as they used to and Shay is convinced it’s his own fault. Because he can’t imagine Jojo doing anything wrong.

“Who should we elect?”, Gian mutters after they’ve withdrawn into their private circle. He’s livelier now, owed most likely to the fact that he won his round. “Jagriwo himself seems too knowledgeable and besides, I presume his real weaknesses lie elsewhere. I can only assume Whip acquired his soubriquet from the idiom ‘sharp as a whip’, therefore I would rule him out also.”

“How about woman now? She might be physically gifted, but electronics?”

As if on cue, they all turn around to stare at the Asian-American who looks thoroughly done with the incessantly whining and gesticulating Maradona. She seemed to have made the mistake of advising him to drop the subject, which he took personally and is now chewing her ear off while she stares at her phone screen even more pointedly. When Whip nudges her, she glances up, realises her opponents are looking at her, and the slight panic in her expression gives her away.

“I’m in favour”, Jojo mutters. “If only to get her away from that annoying blabbermouth. Nobody deserves that.”

“We’re choosing her”, Valenti announces, to which the short woman grimaces. “Okay, so how do we do this?”

“You each get increments of half an hour during which you can do whatever you want with the laptop. If you don’t manage to get into it, it’ll be passed over to the other person. Only your time counts: whoever does it fastest by their own time wins.”

“Are we allowed to talk?”, Jojo wants to know innocently.

“Sure, whatever. You can go first if you want.”

Shay’s best friend nods at Valenti. “Go for it. I’ll talk you through it.” And before Jacob Griffin-Worthington can object, Jojo has already pulled up the instructions on his phone and started guiding Valenti on what to do.

Well. Looks like they have it covered. Gian and Ivanko seem intent on listening and learning, but Shay has no mental capacity for a proper lecture today, so he wanders a little until Whip joins him and the two of them catch up on what’s been happening in their lives recently. Idly, they watch as Maradona throws another tantrum about how what Jojo is doing is cheating while Jagriwo tries unsuccessfully to argue with Ivan Ivanovic that Maradona is right (and he might as well have started a discussion with a brick wall, there’s no reasoning with the Russian if he does not want to be reasoned with).

Eventually, the opposing champion takes a seat next to Shay and eyes him curiously. “What’s your name again?”

“I’m Shay, howya. What’s yours?”

“Anna.” She looks up briefly to frown in the direction of the very loud, very oblivious group of fellow recruits. “This whole thing is stupid, isn’t it.”

“Yep.” Shay catches a glimpse of the brightly-coloured screen in her hands and adds: “Oh, I have that game. Wanna play a round together?”

“Yeah, alright. Whip, wanna join?”

And so the three of them spend about twenty-six minutes peacefully murdering waves of zombies while Valenti nearly starts crying from the pressure. Shay would feel bad for him, but really, it’s his own fault. Ultimately.

“Think it’s my turn”, Anna sighs when her leader barks her name in disbelief, immediately berating her when she joins their bubble again about ‘consorting with the enemy’ and ‘failing to prepare’ as well as ‘sabotaging the only people who care about her’ or something similarly ludicrous, to which she simply replies: “Shut up. I got this.” And with that, she marches right out of the canteen. Leaving behind a dumbstruck Jagriwo, a still expressionless Swiss bloke and a furious Spaniard.

“She’s nice”, Shay comments, to which Whip nods.

“Yeah. No idea why she hangs around with us.”

Jojo and Valenti are still celebrating when Shay joins up with them again, both of them looking like they just ran a marathon. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever done”, Valenti beams, “and I never wanna do it again. But Shay, did you see, I was like a hacker in the films, all focused and cool and -”

“Is she… coming back?”, Gian wonders quietly as Valenti continues bubbling over in excitement.

About five minutes later, Anna does indeed come back. She makes a beeline for the laptop, types something in, presses enter and presents a now unlocked laptop to everyone.

Suddenly, Valenti and Jojo look like they’re going to lose their minds.

“I asked Jäger”, she shrugs. “Told him Blitz forgot his password again and sent me to get it. No lie, the IT security in here stinks.”

For a moment, it seems like Jacob Griffin-Worthington is about to propose to her, until Ivanko decides to poke the bear again and asks: “Is that cheating?”

Maradona bitches the entire way to the shooting range and Shay admires him for his lung capacity.

The following challenge passes by quickly and rather uneventfully: sharpshooting is the required skill, so Shay advises them to pick Whip for this as he knows the Welshman is notoriously bad at it. Their adversaries choose Jojo, not that it matters much as the only one of their group who’s miles ahead would be Valenti while the rest is somewhere close in skill. And though Jojo wins, the two of them end up almost evenly matched, to Shay’s surprise. It might have something to do with the few sentences Jagriwo mutters at Jojo in a voice so low nobody else hears, but when Shay asks about it afterwards, his best friend assures him that it had nothing to do with his bad performance – he claims he was still exhausted from the mental exercise during the previous challenge.

Odd yet again, but Shay doesn’t pry. He does notice Jojo’s hands shaking, however, which happens when he’s under a lot of emotional stress. He wishes he knew what was going on so he could help in any way. The only thing he can do is compliment Jojo’s hair to which the German looks at him like he just sprouted an additional head.

Well. He tried.

As soon as it’s obvious where they’re headed, Valenti falls back and surrounds himself with his own group. “Obstacle course”, he speaks what they’re all thinking. “There’s no doubt they’ll pick you, Shay, they have no choice, Ivan holds the record among us recruits. That means if we win this next one, it’s three out of five for us – it’ll be over. Now, I happen to know that Jagriwo’s best time is worse than yours, Shay, so we have a real shot at ending it right here, right now.”

“Of course you would know everybody’s times”, Ivanko comments with a grin, letting out an uncharacteristic chuckle when Valenti jabs him in the side with an elbow. “Do not worry. Even if you do not win, Shay, I will.”

Despite his assurance, Valenti’s words resonate with Shay: he could actually put an end to this madness. That means visiting Brittany sooner, which means -

“Don’t listen to him, darling, you got this. Make me proud.” Jojo’s voice is strained and still he manages a slight smile which is even more motivation. Yeah, Shay will do his best. He’ll win this round and therefore the whole silly game, he’ll get to do the do with his girlfriend, and he’ll make his best friend proud. A win-win-win situation, his favourite.

It’s much too fast from there: as expected, Shay is chosen while they pick Jacob in turn, the two of them get changed and warm up and suddenly, they’re next to each other at the starting line, Shay’s heart pounding in his chest as he considers the consequences of failing. Despite not caring much about the overall contest, now it’s his own skills on the line which doesn’t leave him cold; he relishes competition, or else he never would’ve made it here. A healthy nervousness has taken hold of him, a heightened state of mind, he’s alert and keenly aware of his entire body the way he is when on a mission.

He’s ready.

“If you lose, I’ll tell you a secret”, Jacob Griffin-Worthington says out of the corner of his mouth, making Shay frown in confusion.

“I don’t wanna know any of your secrets”, he responds, and then someone yells GO and his body moves of its own accord, springing into action with practised ease. He can’t count the times he’s run this course, to various degrees of success: when he was brand new and still bouncing between groups in Rainbow, he remembers how daunting he found this exercise, shivering even at the mention of it. It’s brutal, a demanding mix of precision and pure speed, horizontal and vertical movement, arm- and legwork. Most of his muscles used to burn for days after an intensive training unit here, and now he could probably do it in his sleep.

He’s off to a head start, his long legs a big advantage on the early sprints as well as shorter jumps, but as soon as climbing starts being involved, Jagriwo makes up ground. Shay concentrates on his breathing, the placement of hands and feet, the icy air in his lungs. Vaguely, he can hear his teammates cheering him on, and though he pays next to no attention to it, he somehow notices Jojo’s voice missing in the chorus. Odd. But Shay doesn’t have the luxury of worrying about it.

By the half-point, he’s still ahead and plans to stay there, Jacob not too far behind but audibly struggling where Shay has good reserves to fall back on. The ground is an active obstacle, an unpredictable mixture of mud and frozen bits, making Shay regret a few times not cushioning a fall more. Regardless, he’s doing great and getting closer to the goal by the second, keeping his panting to a minimum, instead opting for a steady pace, and then he slips on an ice patch.

It’s a mean one, he can tell instantly, the moment his foot just whooshes out from under him instead of providing support he knows he’s well and truly fucked. He manages an undignified squawk somewhere on the way down and instinctively brings his arms up, but even they can’t stop his head from smacking right onto the frozen soil. The loss of balance feels like a drop out of a fourth floor window, only much faster, and so he’s much too disoriented to get up and try to keep running, instead opting to blearily stare at crystal-covered blades of grass right next to his nose and contemplate existence.

Looks like he won’t make Jojo proud after all. Especially not with this splitting headache.

There’s cheering going on somewhere, exacerbating the pounding in his temples, and he understands right away that Jagriwo made it, that he was beaten. Someone pats his back with more force than necessary.

“Can you get up?”

He blinks up at two Ivans and stretches out his hand, getting pulled up with next to no input from himself and swaying unsteadily while holding on to the Russian. “My head hurts”, he mumbles, trying to correct his blurry vision. “I’m sorry. I didn’t make it.”

“You were at record pace, too. You had chance to beat my time.” Ivan Ivanovic inspects him for a moment, eventually deciding that he’s fine, so Shay stops worrying. If he’d been bleeding badly or anything like it, Ivanko would tell him.

It’s only then that he realises Ivan is the only one who came to his aid: Jojo, Gian and Valenti seem to be talking insistently among each other, with Jojo looking pale and shaking his head a lot. This isn’t right. “Ivanko, what’s going on with Jojo?”

A small pause. The Russian pats his back again. “Better get changed. You will catch cold.”

Shay doesn’t think thicker clothes will help with the vague frost settling in his insides. He doesn’t know what’s wrong. He’s not sure he wants to.

Though it’s getting late, the sun nonetheless shines down on their stupid little contest. By now, most of them are grumpy for various reasons, several pairs have formed and emit unintelligible grumbling as they complain about this or that, and despite Jacob Griffin-Worthington’s steadfast refusal to admit this whole thing was pretty pointless, even he seems to be losing the spring in his step. Regardless, he trudges on, leading them to the canal for some reason.

“Last challenge”, he proclaims loudly, ignoring a few passers-by giving them odd looks. “This is the one who decides the winner! It’s as gruelling as it is straightforward: submerge yourself up to your neck in the icy water. The one who stays in there the longest wins.”

Suddenly, Shay is extremely glad he was chosen for the obstacle course, even if he doesn’t appreciate the pulsing headache. Below them, the river seems deceptively pleasant, the water calm and clear – but it couldn’t be any warmer than just above 0°C. This is a daunting task for pretty much everyone.

“We don’t really have a choice who to pick”, Valenti shrugs, equally eager to be done as most of them are. “Go for it, Swiss dude.”

“My name is Köbi”, comes a quiet reply from the taciturn recruit, prompting Jojo of all people to reply: “Yeah well nobody can pronounce that.”

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Jagriwo has noticed Ivan Ivanovic unzipping his jacket in preparation of the challenge. “It’s not your turn, mate, you’ve already gone. We choose – wait, who do we choose?”

His group exchanges confused glances until Whip speaks up: “He’s the only one left.”

Their leader turns away from their adversaries to hiss a very audible: “But then we lose. Ivan can’t be allowed to do this.”

“Try and stop me.” Ivanko keeps piling clothes onto a helpless Valenti as if all of this was just another Tuesday, unlacing his boots with practised ease.

It is now that Jagriwo seems to realise what everyone else has understood before they walked all the way to the river: he’s lost. With Ivan left as their last champion, there’s nothing he could throw his way that would tip the scales in his favour. Valenti’s triumphant grin from behind Ivanko’s folded-up trousers conveys as much.

“I, uh, wasn’t finished explaining the rules of this challenge”, he tries to delay the inevitable, floundering, “you also have to, um -”

“Let us go in.” Ivanko, clad only in his underwear, nods in the direction of the ladder leading from the promenade right into the water. Köbi seems hesitant but probably assumes Jagriwo’s wrath would be immeasurable if he chickened out now, so he quickly undresses as well and immediately starts shivering. This doesn’t bode well for him. Ivan Ivanovic even goes in first, opting to quickly glide into the icy river instead of dipping his toes, followed by his Swiss opponent.

Who curses heartily in what Shay can only assume to be a thick accent as soon as he touches the surface, and the cursing quickly morphs into barely-suppressed wails and moans. He sounds like he’ll start crying every second now.

Jacob Griffin-Worthington is livid.

“You don’t deserve this win!”, he rages. “You’re just a bunch of arse-kissing wankers who scrape by doing the absolute minimum.”

“What does that make you then?”, Jojo responds, words dripping with vitriol. “You lost to us. You don’t even belong in Rainbow.”

“And you do? I don’t know about the others, but I know how you got in. Did some favours to get your résumé looked at, didn’t you?”

Fucking hell. Shay frowns, notices his expression mirrored on both Whip’s and Anna’s faces (though he takes note of their silence), and asks: “Why are you such a sore loser?”

Gian’s muttered ‘this is hardly productive’ gets lost in Jacob Griffin-Worthington’s following fury. “You arseholes are really pissing me off! The only reason you won this is because you have one, one semi-competent fucker among you who keeps you afloat, the rest of you are worthless. You wanna know what your so-called friend wrote in his diary? You wanna hear some excerpts? Because I’ve got a small collection of quotes here, just stumbled over these, they’re everywhere.”

“Not really”, Valenti objects. “If he’d wanted us to hear them, he would’ve told us.”

Undeterred, Jagriwo pulls out his phone and begins reading off the screen. “Valenti, he calls you petty, ‘hindered by delusions of grandeur’, ‘desperate to belong’ – mate, he thinks you’re insufferable, that’s what I’m getting out of this.”

The author of the quotes looks pained, uncomfortable, avoiding their gazes. Shay has never seen Gian this ashamed, their gentle, thoughtful, caring Gian this distressed. He opens his mouth, likely to address the accusation, possibly explain himself, but Valenti is faster: “Well he’d be correct, wouldn’t he?”

Their nemesis blanks for a second. “Pardon?”

“I mean, I am those things. He’s not wrong. But I’d bet my life that’s not all he said about me. Right? You’re just picking things out of context and trying to upset us, it’s not gonna work.”

But instead of being defeated yet again, Jagriwo’s eyes move to a new target. And Shay suddenly pieces it all together.

Everything falls into place: their weird reaction when he implied that Gian’s diary being stolen wasn’t that big of a deal – everyone else seemed to know something he didn’t yet nobody clued him in. He wasn’t supposed to know, he realises belatedly. They all knew something he didn’t, which also explains why Jojo has been so withdrawn lately, why he kept talking with the others instead of Shay, why he suddenly wanted to win this competition so badly.

Jojo has some sort of secret involving Shay and absolutely everybody knows except for Shay himself. He assumes this is what Jacob meant when he offered to let him in on a secret at the beginning of the obstacle course. Gian had written about this hidden fact in his little book and Jagriwo is about to reveal it.

But what could it be? The only explanation Shay can fathom is him doing something unspeakable to Jojo, something unforgivable, something that would taint their friendship forever if he were aware of it. If he’d done something like that to Jojo, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, that much is true, he’d always feel like he’d owe him – and this, possibly, is the scenario they’ve worked to hard to avoid. Because it’d hang over the two of them like a sword of Damocles, no doubt.

And now that Shay knows this… is he ready to hear the truth?

“Don’t”, mutters Jojo, his voice a warning. His eyes are locked with Jagriwo’s.

“Or what?” He really savours the moment, ignoring all of Jojo’s body language (and he looks like a cornered animal, wild, hopeless) as he turns to Shay with a wide, shark-like smile. It feels like everyone’s holding their breath. Then he simply says: “Did you know your best friend wants to fuck you?”

The very first thought that enters Shay’s mind is one he remains convinced of for a solid second: that can’t be it. He believes it steadfastly until he turns his head and catches sight of the pure, unbridled horror on Jojo’s face, shame even more pronounced than on Gian’s a few moments earlier. No words are necessary, his expression shouts it louder than Jacob could – it’s true. It has to be, or else why would Jojo look like this, but… why is that such a big deal?

Jacob Griffin-Worthington is not satisfied yet. “He’s actually been in love with you for a while.”

Oh. Okay, well, that’s slightly different, yet Shay experiences nothing but all-encompassing relief: he didn’t do anything to Jojo. They’re still good. They can keep being friends, provided Jojo wants to, and, uh, well, this might be a problem, he realises much too late. Maybe Jojo doesn’t want to. Maybe he wants some space. And Shay has a girlfriend, he almost forgot about her, that’s complicating things even further, but -

All of a sudden, he notices everyone is staring at him. Everyone but the one who counts. “Right”, he says, still trying to process the consequences of this revelation, and then Jojo turns on his heel and walks away.

Gian is the one who stops him from following immediately, a steady hand on his arm and a slight shake of the head keeping him in place. “Allow him time to compose.”

Next to them, Valenti simply drops Ivanko’s clothes onto the promenade and tries to punch Jagriwo in the face, yet the lad saw it coming and blocked, and while a very one-sided fight breaks out (because of course, the others jump in to help Jacob) Shay only has eyes for the lone figure wandering by the canal, back turned and hands repeatedly coming up to probably wipe tears away, and all of this is wrong.

Being friends with Jojo has never been easy, he’d never call it an easy friendship like he would with someone like Whip maybe – it was never two mates hanging out, it was something more, and that something required effort. Shay had worked for Jojo’s friendship and still does his best to maintain it, he learnt how to apologise, how to compromise, how to listen. Jojo allowed him to grow by pointing out areas in which to improve, managed to do so without putting him on the spot and by taking him seriously. In return, he’d provided undying loyalty, an open ear with no judgement.

This isn’t something from which either of them can walk away. They need to work this out. And the longer his eyes are glued to the man he’s so incredibly lucky to know, the man walking much too close to the edge of the promenade, the one suddenly slipping on an icy patch and -

Shay’s fuck comes almost simultaneously to the large splash. He starts sprinting without wasting a single thought on it, clawing off his jacket mid-run, tossing his phone on it, dropping his shirt together with his wallet and keys, and next go the shoes (bloody hell the ground is frigid) – he doesn’t bother with the socks but the trousers need to go, and then he dives into what turns out to be much, much colder water than he’d anticipated.

He manages to keep his disbelieving gasp in until he’s breached the surface again, blinking against the cool air and trying to keep his body from locking up due to the shock. Next to him, Jojo lets out a litany of curses, half of which directed at him.

“- the fuck are you doing, you moron, there’s no fucking ladder, what did you think you’re gonna do?!”

Huh. The closest ladder is indeed a bit away and he’s already losing all feeling in his limbs. “I’m saving you”, he blurts out, stupidly, to which his best friend lets out an unamused-sounding laugh. Jesus fuck it’s cold, his feet are freezing and he’s having trouble staying above water.

“This”, Jojo pants, lips blue and eyes red, shivering just as violently as Shay is himself, “might be one of the dumbest things you’ve ever done, Shay, what did you think was going to happen? You give me a lift so I can climb the two metres back up?”

“We should probably move, we can’t get out here.”

“Oh really? I can’t swim, I can barely keep myself up, so what do you reckon -”

He’s interrupted by yet another splash next to them, icy water washing over them. The reproachful face appearing belongs to none other than Ivan Ivanovic, and Shay has never been gladder to see the Russian. “Hold on to me”, he tells them and they oblige without a single word of protest as he starts swimming to the nearest ladder, dragging two dead weights with him.

~*~

It’s only fitting that the day ends with them in front of Sledge’s office, as so many days prior. Shay, wrapped in a thick blanket and trying to will the frost out of his bones, listens to the muffled bollocking going on inside, and wonders whether they’ll get their share after the others are done. Köbi, Jojo and he were sent to Doc first while the rest of their groups had to explain to their superior what they’ve been up to all day, and now they don’t want to interrupt anything, so they’ve sat down on the bench outside. Except for Köbi, the winner of the last challenge, who was checked in with mild frostbite. There’s no doubt Ivanko would’ve won, but he came to Jojo’s and Shay’s rescue, opting to climb out and lose the challenge rather than wasting valuable seconds by swimming towards them instead of running.

So not only did Shay mess up his own contribution to the competition, he made them lose it all.

He barely dares to ask. “Jojo?”

“Hm?” His best friend has avoided any eye contact since their brief stint in the river, having chosen to treat Shay with nothing but silence. Now that they’re alone and perched next to each other, he seems more willing to exchange words though.

“I’m sorry we lost because of me. Did you actually want to win?”

This earns him an almost disgusted expression. “Of course not. Any minute I spend in Jagriwo’s presence is fucking wasted, he can fuck a cactus for all I care. His stupid little ego trip doesn’t matter.”

Oh. So he just really didn’t want Shay to find out. Find out… that he’s in love with him. The sentiment leaves him slightly giddy, as if someone Shay liked a lot told him that they like Shay back, only he can’t discern whether he feels flattered or confused or something else entirely. It’s a fluttery thing, similar to the beginning when he was flirting with Brittany (or trying to, at least) and couldn’t think about anything else.

Jojo fancies him. It’s… nice. It feels nice, knowing Jojo finds him attractive. That he likes him so much that he wants them to be more than friends.

And Shay -

He looks at Jojo who reminds him of a drowned rat, the usually styled hair wet and sticking to his skull, complexion blotchy, the corners of his mouth turned downwards. Their shoulders are touching. Shay just can’t imagine a life without him.

“I’ll break up with Brittany”, he hears himself speak before the words have fully formed in his mind – as so often he does.

Jojo’s brows draw together. “What?”

“I can break up with her. It’s okay. Then we can -”

“Shay, what in the world are you saying?”

“I like you too.” Instantly, he’s self-conscious, scratching the back of his head, trying his hardest not to backpedal. “That’s… what I’m saying. I like you, Jojo. I’d rather be together with you.”

His best friend is staring at him, mouth open, eyes wide. “You’d just – you’d drop her. Right away. Right now.”

“Yeah. If you want.” Shay nods. He’s already cancelled for the evening, it’d be simple to end their relationship as well.

For a few heartbeats, Jojo doesn’t seem to know how to react and what he eventually does isn’t something Shay would’ve expected. He gets up, blanket still wrapped around him, and tells Shay: “Just don’t talk to me. Don’t.”

And once again, he leaves. Leaves Shay behind on the bench outside of Sledge’s office, wondering whether he’s done something wrong this time.

It’s not even a relief when Sledge shoos him away later instead of admonishing him, because Valenti won’t look at him and Gian carries himself like a close relative just died. Even Ivan Ivanovic just motions for him to walk.

Of everyone filing out of Sledge’s office, it’s only Anna who throws him a sympathetic glance.

#rainbow six siege #fanfic #kac #recruitverse #valenti #jojo #shay #gian #ivan #some new 'friends' as well!#whip needs to stay around until I can finally reveal why he's called that #has anyone noticed a trend with names yet

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