#its the fucking cut away zoom in. and its so fucking sLOW balls to the walls. insane

[chocolatecakecas]

I still cannot believe that Dean really took control of the vessel and closed the fbi badge. Hands down one of the most balls to the walls insane things ive ever witnessed with my own two eyes.

#im watching 8x13 rn and i just. asfnakfahhdja #its the fucking cut away zoom in. and its so fucking sLOW balls to the walls. insane #ben edlund really said. fine i cant use the gay angel in this ep then i WILL create another gay monster okay thanks jeremy<3 #i love this show i love it so much #mr ben edlund i owe you my life #bec speaks #jensen ackles #dean winchester #bec spn rewatch #8x13

[gukvante]

the gym selfie

— pairing: namjoon x reader

— genre: slice of life, smut

— rating: nsfw

— words: 1.5k+

— note: ngl, this was completely self-indulgent and based off of this selfie namjoon posted :O also, a disclaimer, i do not own the picture of namjoon used in my banner. happy reading further <3

— warnings: explicit/detailed sexual intercourse, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, daddy kink, cum eating, oral (m receiving), some good ol’ face fucking, some praise sprinkled with a little degrading, established relationship

— summary: Namjoon posts a gym selfie and it got you feeling some type of way.

masterlist

© gukvante —all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any medium is not permitted. 

You huffed staring down at the last text you had sent Namjoon. No response. You had sent him a text asking if he wanted to meet up for lunch since you were in the area but to no avail. 

You were about to give up hope of getting to go on a cute little lunch date with your boyfriend when your phone vibrated. It was a notification letting you know that Namjoon had just posted on Weverse. 

You huffed in slight annoyance that he had time to post but not respond to your text messages. 

Tapping on the notification to open the post, you watched as it loaded for a few seconds before you were met with the most delicious sight. 

You eyes widened slightly, your jaw going slack. Namjoon had posted a picture, a workout picture to be precise. The sleeveless top he wore showed off his defined arms and strong shoulders.

It was like your hands had a mind of their own as you zoomed in further to closely inspect his long fingers. Something about the way he gripped the phone had your breath hitching.

You were snapped back into reality when someone accidentally bumped into you. It was only then that you remembered that you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Quickly apologising to the stranger and wishing them a pleasant day further, you all but sprinted to sit on a nearby bench. You checked your surroundings again to make sure no one was watching you perv on your delectable boyfriend. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, somewhat preparing yourself. Once you felt you were ready to continue, your eyes snapped back to the screen. Heat spread across your cheeks as your eyes trailed lower.

Namjoon was sporting gym shorts that exposed a  little bit of his muscular thighs. You frowned slightly when you realised the angle of the picture hid his bulge. Just as you were about to zoom in closer, your ringtone cut through the air. 

Your face flushed as you read the caller ID, Namjoon. With shaky hands, you held the phone up to your ear. “H-Hello?” Your voice crocked.

“Hi, baby. Sorry for not answering your texts, I was working out.” Namjoon’s smooth voice seemed to send your body into overdrive. Rubbing your thighs together, you cleared your throat before answering.

“I-I know.” You stuttered. What was going on with you? You’ve seen him naked plenty of times, why was this one picture affecting you so much? 

“Are you okay, princess? You sound a bit off.” Namjoon asked, his voice full of concern. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you answered again.

“I’m fine! Just a bit . . . winded . . . I guess.” You fiddled with your fingers as you waited for his response. 

“Well, I would love to grab some lunch with you. I just have to pack up a few things and take a quick shower. I should be done in the next twenty minutes or so.” You nodded in agreement, getting ready to hang up. 

“Baby? You still there?” Namjoon asked, confused. 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Sorry, I completely forgot we were on a phone call and nodded like a dumbass! You probably think I’m so–” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re okay?” He questioned again, concerned something might have happened. 

“Yes, I’m great! D-Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon?” 

“I’ll see you soon, kitten.”

Hanging up, you let out a deep sigh before standing up and walking in the direction of BigHit. 

Once you were inside the building, you hastily made your way up to the dressing rooms. Upon your arrival, you were met with Yoongi, who seemed to be on his way out. 

“Yoongi! Hey! How are you?” You called, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Ah, y/n! Can’t complain, you?” Yoongi smiled as he acknowledged you. 

“I’m great! Thanks for asking. Do you perhaps know where I can find Namjoon?” You reached into your pocket, ready to pull your phone out to call him if Yoongi didn’t know where he was. 

Yoongi nodded, pointing in the direction of the showers before turning to leave again. “It was nice seeing you, y/n. Enjoy your time with Joon!” Yoongi smirked over his shoulder as he walked out the room. 

Your face erupted at the innuendo, shaking your head. Letting out another sigh, you moved to put your things down. Closing your eyes, you took one last deep breath before nodding and making your way into the shower room. 

You could hear the water running and Namjoon humming softly to himself. Deciding not to announce your arrival, you slowly started removing your clothes. 

You placed your clothes next to Namjoon’s before reaching out to pull back the shower curtain. Namjoon was quick to turn around in shock, almost slipping in the process. 

“Baby? Geez, you scared me!” He chuckled. “What are you do–” it was only then that he realised that you were butt-naked. His eyes seemed to darken as they roamed over your body, taking in every dip and curve. 

“Don’t worry about me, just stand back and enjoy.” You winked. Namjoon cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raising. 

Walking further into the shower, you slowly and carefully dropped to your knees. Pushing your hair from your face, you tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Please let me suck your cock, daddy?” You pleaded, batting your eyelashes to seal the deal. 

“Go ahead, kitten.” Namjoon said, his jaw clenching. Breaking eye contact, you came face to face with his girthy length. 

Your mouth watered at the sight. He was fully erect, his tip a deep pink. Lifting a hand, you wrapped it around his base. Your fingers barely touched, your pussy fluttering from the realisation. 

Learning forward, you placed soft kisses all over the underside of his cock. Namjoon huffed, glaring down at you and reached a hand out to grip your hair. 

“Now, now, babygirl. Who said you could tease daddy?” He’s jaw was clenched in annoyance as he grinded his teeth together. You eyes widened at his serious expression. 

“That’s what I thought. Now, be a good little cockslut and let daddy fuck your greedy throat.” 

You let your mouth fall open in obedience, anything for Namjoon. His free hand dropped to replace yours at the base of his cock. 

“Stick your tongue out, pretty girl.” Namjoon’s voice seemed to deepen and gain a certain raspiness to it. 

Your tongue lolled out your mouth, completely submitting to him. Namjoon smirked before rubbing his tip against your tongue. “Suck.” He huffed. Complying, you wrapped your lips around his cockhead. 

Namjoon let out a growl as he watched you suck on him while maintaining eye contact. He let suckle on him a little longer, his breathing becoming laboured. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck your throat now. Okay, angel?” On cue, he started steadily inching his fat cock down your throat. Breathing through your nose, you tried your best to relax your throat to allow him in further. 

Namjoon let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. He pulled back slightly before thrusting back in again. He kept the slow pace for a minute or two before he reach down to lightly grip your throat while his other hand tightened its grip on your hair. 

Drawing his hips back, he was quick to pick up the pace. Your eyes rolled back as his cock slid deeper with every thrust. 

Tears started to form in your eyes as Namjoon continued to abuse your throat. He was panting now, his hips frantically chasing sweet release. Namjoon pulled out with a deep groan. 

“You still good, baby?” He rasped. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths before moving to take him again. Namjoon all but growled. 

He picked up right where he left off, leaning over slightly to reach even deeper down your throat. The room was filled with the sound of wet squelching and Namjoon’s deep groans. 

Lifting a hand, you cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Namjoon moaned, his hips stuttering. “Keep doing that, kitten. ‘m so close.” 

Adding more pressure, you continued to massage his balls. His thrusts becoming sloppier. Namjoon threw his head back as he moaned out your name. 

“I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow it like good little cumslut.” He growled out, his hips speeding up. 

He pulled your head all the way to his base, placing a hand on either side of your face to hold your head in place. He let out one last groan before he emptied his load down your throat. 

You tried your best to swallow like he instructed but it was too much and some of it dripped down your chin. Namjoon gently pulled out. He let out a satisfied sigh before staring down at you. 

He reached down, wiping away a stray tear. He smiled sweetly, caressing your face. You leaned your head against his hand as you stared up at him lovingly.

“It’s your turn now, kitten.” 

#kim namjoon kim namjoon smut sub!reader sub!reader x bts bts smut namjoon oneshot namjoon smut namjoon x reader kim namjoon x reader smut

[hes-writer]

Don’t Make A Scene

Summary: y/n is an actress and harry is jealous

Warnings: unwanted touching, implied smut, a teensy bit of angst and fluff

Word Count: 2000 words

“You have to what?” Harry raised his voice slightly at the news. 

Y/N fiddled at the silver jewelry adorning her wrist, “It’s a quick scene,” She retorted. “It’ll only be on screen for a minute or less,” 

He shook his head as if disappointed. His lips in a firm line tucked in his mouth while his brows furrowed in complete confusion.

“Y/N, listen to me. You have a choice to do this scene or not and you’re just—,” Hary's hands gestured gesticulatively, cutting through the air in an appointed manner. 

Y/N huffed lightly, “I’m just what?”

Harry groaned, frustrated with the way this night is taking a turn to. “You’re just doing whatever they tell you to!”

“Harry, this is my decision!” Y/N explained, “No one’s forcing me to do anything,” 

“So you’re just kissing him for what?”

“For a thank you because his character literally saved my life!”

Harry looked like a fish out of the water as he tried to conjure up a response to her words.

“You can come to the set if it makes you feel better,” Y/N offered, to which Harry immediately agreed to. "You can't get angry at me for doing my job, Harry."

-----

Harry is a jealous person. There wasn’t much shame in admitting it because he believed that what’s his was solely his—especially Y/N. The idea of his love sharing intimacy with another person, albeit a co-star, was enough kindling to light a fire at the base of his spine, slithering up his back and making his head heated to the point that every thought fired by his neurons resembled an atomic bomb. He could feel his hands itching to stay put, his nerves aching to grab Y/N and never let her go.

Y/N could see Harry’s antsy body from the peripheral of her vision. The curly-haired boy glancing anxiously upon the set; a room with dark mahogany walls decored with wooden furniture and accented knick-knacks sitting atop. The atmosphere of the set was enigmatic, curtains shut with only a sliver of orange-hued light peeking through directly on the bed. Candles were lit around the room, wafting off a cinnamon vanilla aroma that reminded Y/N of the ones she would carefully light when the time arose with Harry.

The pout of his pink lips deepened as he released a breath, his cheeks puffed up while his eyes tried to catch hers indicating that Harry’s usual calm persona was close to crumbling. Time was drawing closer as the producers slowly wore their ear-in pieces and microphones, adjusting the equipment to fit comfortably. 

“How you doing, baby?” Y/N asked gently, wanting to comfort him as best as she could before she was skewed away in the world of acting. Her hands folded his curls atop Harry’s crown, palm grazing the creased lines of his forehead as he tilted his head up to look at her from his decreased height on her assigned chair. 

“Do you have to do it?” Harry quipped silently, his voice resembling a whine. During the time of their argument to now, he managed to swap his thoughts from being angry to accepting, Well, as best as he could. Y/N was glad that their argument did not explode more than it had to.

He whined low in his throat when Y/N nodded, wrapping his arms around her waist. The fuzzy material of her robe caressing his cheek and Harry briefly forgot what he was here for in the first place. 

“Alright, everyone. Places!” The director’s voice boomed through his mic, amplified by the speakers surrounding the studio. Harry pouted some more when Y/N practically untangled his hands latched tightly from around her middle. Her make-up artists powdering her face with translucent powder as she walked towards the bathroom of the set. He smiled slightly at the sight; his love was so talented and he couldn’t be any prouder than he is right now. 

“Action!”

 The lights dimmed to further accentuate the romantic atmosphere of the room, the cameras slowly moving in circles, zooming in and capturing the room. Y/N’s co-star, Allen, was sat upon the headboard with his back supported, the lower half of his body was draped with a silky red sheet covering up to his upper thigh. Harry could only roll his eyes at the cliche scene with Allen’s gaze focused on a book, fingers flicking focusing in on the bathroom door opening. 

Harry could hear the muttering of the director, cueing the crew to indicate Y/N’s arrival to the lenses’ eye. Y/N opened the door just as the large camera drifted to focus on her. Her innocent face appearing on the screen, hair tousled and make-up was just the same as Harry had seen moments ago, only this time did a seductive stare plastered her face. Her lids hooded the dark fluttering of her lashes as her pointer finger rested upon her lower lip. Harry gulped, shifting silently in his seat.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. Allen’s eyes drifting from the words on the book to Y/N carefully untying the knot of her robe, revealing stretches of smooth skin that had Harry’s mouth watering despite the circumstances. The nape of his neck bubbled with heat while he watched the scene unfold to its climax.

Y/N walked until she was at the foot of the bed, Allen meeting her with his knees digging on the mattress as their lips grazed each others’, muttering the necessary lines from their scripts. His hands wandered around the fabric before Allen pushed the robe off from Y/N’s rounded shoulders, dropping on the hardwood with a soft thud. Harry’s jaw dropped at the lingerie adorning her body, speckles of black lace covering her most intimate parts but surely left little to the imagination. The opaque material highlighting the peeks of her breasts, intricate lace swirling around the firmness of her buttcheeks. The garter snapped around her thigh attached to a fishnet stocking was enough to have Harry imagining doing dirty things to his girl.

The camera shifted its neck lower and lower, following Allen’s hands caressing her soft skin raising with goosebumps before resting on the crest of her bum. Harry’s annoyance overpowered his arousal as he watched another man’s touch affecting Y/N even if she didn’t mean to. 

Y/N craned her neck clockwise, adding to the sensuality of the scene and for Allen to nip at her neck. Her mind was zeroed in on capturing the essence of the script as perfectly as possible, the goosebumps on her body elevating with the need to push Allen’s hands away from her. Still, she continued with her acting. Y/N was a professional actress after all. 

She counted in her mind to make sure that her lines were delivered on time, willing her body to relax under the touch of another man’s hands, knowing that her tense figure would be captured by the prying eyes of the camera reeling. A gasp parted her mouth open when Allen squeezed both of her butt cheeks tightly, gripping the tender skin with enough force to prickle tears in her eyes, his fingertips leaving white indentations for a few seconds before turning a blush red. 

“Cut!” The director yelled, “That wasn’t in the script, Allen! Are you alright, Y/N?”

Harry leaned forward, forearms resting on the armrests, his ears straining to hear the conversation being shared as the director angrily stomped to the stars, his microphone tilted away from his mouth. 

She nodded slowly, gulping a ball of wool down her throat. “I’m fine,”

“We have a script and we follow it so everyone is comfortable.” 

An arrogant smirk drooped Allen's cheeks, glancing at Y/N,  her arms awkwardly hanging at the sides of her body. “I thought it felt right. Right, Y/N?” Allen eyed Harry walking towards them, a pissed off look on his face but he couldn’t care less.

“What the fuck?”

“It’s acting, pal. Don’t get so heated,” Allen’s hair flopped in front of his eyes, hiding a mischievous glint.

“You don’t treat women like that even if you’re acting,” Harry’s timbre mellowed the tense aura, noticing Y/N’s barely covered body still adorned in goosebumps from the chilly air. He removed his jacket, wrapping it around her.

The director nodded in agreement, fingers massaging his temples as he glanced at his watch. “Sort this out. I’ll be right back,” 

Allen chuckled in disbelief, “It’s acting.” As if his annunciation would magically make his actions better. “We’re professionals, right Y/N?”

Both men watched Y/N in anticipation of her response, Harry's silent stare asking her a million times to say what she means, to address the elephant in the room before stuffing herself in the corner in fear of confrontation. 

“Yeah, we are.” Y/N began, tucking Harry’s jacket tighter around her, “It doesn’t mean I deserved what you did,” She snuggled closer to Harry’s side, finding comfort by the heat of his body close to her. “I don’t want you touching me like that unless it says so.”

Harry sized Allen up, noticing the swole biceps and peaked pecs but he would knock him out this instant if Y/N told him to. 

“Fine. Whatever, we’ll have to do this scene again anyway,” Allen’s confident tone shook Y/N with fear and rattled Harry’s control to the ground. 

“Actually, you won’t have to,” The director returned with a clipboard grasped in his aged-hands, a pen tucked in his ear. “You’re fired, Allen.”

“What?”

“I expected you to treat Y/N with respect but you didn’t,”

Harry hugged Y/N closer to his side, their eyes wide in surprise at the bombshell.

“Oh, come on! You can’t do this. I’m the male lead,” Allen pointed out with such arrogance and defiance against authority. “You can’t shoot this without me.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in worry. It was only the first day of filming and without a lead; there would be no movie.

“Of course we can,” The director answered calmly, “Why do you think we film the intimate scenes first? Need to see if you can treat your co-stars with respect before we move on,"

Allen’s mouth was dropped open, frustration clearly etched on his features. If Harry didn’t know any better, he might have felt bad for the guy, but his filthy hands marked his girlfriend up without her consent and that’s just not something that he can let slide off his back.

Allen ordered his assistant to get his shirt, slipping his head in the hole before storming off to his dressing room. The director turned to the couple with an apologetic face, promising Y/N that her next co-star is someone that respected her as their partner. 

“Harry, would you like to audition?”

Y/N squealed in delight, immediately wrapped her hands around his wrist, bouncing up and down with excitement, “Will you do it, please?”

“Are you serious?” 

The director nodded, “I’ve seen you on Dunkirk. A Nolan film for your debut,” His tone carried an impressed valve. “I think Y/N here would love for you to be her co-star,”

Harry stared at Y/N’s pleading, doe eyes. He sighed, nodding with a small smile on his lips, “I’d love to,”

“Great!” The director clapped his hands in celebration, announcing through his headset that they would be filming the scene again. “This is your audition scene. I want this film to showcase intimacy and unrequited love between two people battling against the criticisms of the outside world, think you can do that?”

Harry’s mind reeled in the judgments, comments and harsh words spewed at him and Y/N for being together. The criticisms harshly raking up and yelled in their ears when they didn’t know the truth. Rumours painted to tear them apart, causing doubts and misunderstandings but they always worked through it. It pained his heart to have the world treat her like they did, especially when she was the sweetest little things that could have ever graced foot on the world.

 “Already am,”

_____

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut

[thorniest-rose]

reddie halloween prompt #6 pumpkin

Eddie had lived in denial for a long time. It was a denial that had clung to him since he’d been a little boy. Never letting himself get dirty. Being scared of falling ill. Not letting his eyes linger too much on the handsome men he saw in the pharmacy or at the grocery store. And never letting himself enjoy food. Because food meant gluttony. It meant allergies and intolerances. It meant turning out like his mother, who he watched grow bigger and rounder every year.  

He spent years like that, not letting himself enjoy anything. Convincing himself he was so frail that all he could eat were egg whites and leafy greens or the leanest chicken with a plate of boiled vegetables. No gluten. No sugar. Hardly any fats or carbs. For more than 20 years he was as austere as a Puritan. And he told himself it was for the best. 

Until Richie, that was. Until they had finally defeated the clown. 

Things started to change then. Slowly at first but surely. Eddie left his sham of a marriage; he came out of the closet; he admitted to Richie one night, as the two of them shared a bowl of ice cream by Richie's swimming pool, that he was in love with him. And then, after he let himself try a slice of challah one day at a coffee shop downtown, toasted gently and spread with honey, Eddie let himself fall. 

First, Eddie made banana bread using some old, overripe bananas on their kitchen table. Then he baked chewy oatmeal cookies one morning after he’d served up their overnight oats. Before Eddie knew it, he was cooking up a storm: he ordered cookbooks, watched videos, bookmarked blogs. And he started to love the act of cooking. Looked forward to planning out their meals and going grocery shopping. There were fluffy ricotta pancakes in the morning; a cheese and spinach quiche with salad in the afternoon, chicken thighs baked in white wine, olive oil and parmigiano reggiano in the evening. And then, teasingly, a silky mousse or sliver of cheesecake.  

Richie, who had the biggest appetite out of anyone Eddie had ever known, scarfed down everything Eddie made as quickly as a dog. He'd been happy to see Eddie enjoy food more and actively encouraged his cooking.

What Eddie hadn't expected was how sexy Richie had found it. How he watched Eddie cook with his blue eyes lit up with some kind of mischief. Sometimes coming up behind him so he could trail his hands over Eddie’s hips as he cooked, snaking a hand around his chest to tweak a nipple through his t-shirt, or to press the flat of his palm to Eddie’s lower stomach in a vaguely territorial touch that had Eddie half-panting as he stirred. 

Eddie always kicked Richie out eventually, swatting him away with a wooden spoon or elbowing him in the stomach. But it didn't stop Eddie from growing ruby-cheeked or getting hard in his pants. Something Richie definitely noticed as he chuckled and said, "You feeling okay there, baby?"

Which is probably why he should have seen this coming. Not that he thought it would happen that morning, as he prepared a homemade pumpkin pie for the first time. That he’d end up pushed up against the counter in their spacious, airy kitchen with Richie's jeans shoved down his thighs and his cock balls deep inside Eddie's ass. 

The pie looks good. Eddie had completed the crust, and he’s busy with the filling: mixing eggs, spices and fresh pumpkin purée in a bowl. Or at least he was trying to. Because Richie’s cock was nudging his prostate, and every time Eddie tried to focus on what he was doing, Richie would tilt his hips slightly and brush up against his sweet spot.

Richie had spent the whole time cooing into his ear, telling him what a good boy he was, as he stroked Eddie's hips like he was a skittish, easily frightened domestic pet.

The whisk clatters to the counter as Eddie lets out a high-pitched moan. 

“I can’t do it,” he says, his head hanging down between his shoulders. 

Richie leans in and swipes his tongue against the bare skin at his feverish nape.

“I think you can,” he says. “Come on, baby, you’re doing so well.”

Richie hadn’t fucked him that morning like he usually did, making the excuse that he had an important Zoom meeting. That he had to get ready for some presentation with the big suits about the future of his show. Eddie had said okay, that made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed as Richie kissed him on the cheek and disappeared out the room. 

But it turns out this was why. Richie had been saving it for this. 

Eddie tries not to moan at how deep Richie is inside him. There’s nothing between them, not even a layer of latex, and it’s almost too much. Richie’s cock is stretching him wide - with a shiver, he can imagine how obscene his hole must look around Richie’s cock - and on each small thrust into him, Eddie can feel Richie’s balls brush against his thighs. 

“I hate you,” he mutters as his arms tremble, hands clenched so hard around the edge of the counter that they're porcelain white.

Richie tsks against his neck. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your finance, is it? When he takes such good care of you.”

Eddie laughs, and it sounds manic. “Is this what you think taking care of me looks like?”

He expects a joke, or a witty retort. Instead what he gets is Richie’s fingers tightening to a bone-bruising grip on his hips. Eddie would cry out, goes to, except Richie shoots out a hand and shoves three thick fingers into Eddie’s mouth, stifling the sound. 

With an edge of steel Richie says, “Why don’t you stop talking back and do as you’re told?”

Eddie starts to say “okay”, only he can’t, not with Richie’s fingers in his mouth, how they press down his tongue. So he nods his head as much as he can to get the point across. He’ll make the pie. He’ll be good. 

“That's better,” Richie says.

He pushes his fingers deeper into Eddie’s mouth, getting them wet to the knuckle, the force of it making Eddie gag. It feels like a warning. That Eddie better be good because he's not in the mood to play. Then he pulls them out as fast as he’d pushed them in, bringing them back to Eddie's hip.

"Go on then," he says, but this time there's the hint of a laugh in his voice. Like he finds humiliating Eddie like this funny.

Eddie feels winded, the corners of his mouth feel bruised, but he picks up the whisk again and starts swirling the filling. It’s not as fast as he’d usually do it, but it’s the best he can do. Behind him, Richie starts to pick up the pace a little, pulling out and pushing his cock deeper into Eddie’s needy, clenching hole. He hits his prostate again, making him arch back against the tall line of Richie’s body. 

“R-Richie, I can’t,” he says, on the verge of dropping the whisk again. Of abandoning the pie and begging Richie to fuck him. 

But he knows that won't do.

From behind him Richie says, “Why don’t you shut the fuck up? I thought you could be good? Do you want me to pull out?”

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn't. Even though it was maddening: the torturous, slow push of Richie’s cock inside him, the feeling of his zipper rubbing up against his ass, the drip of precome at the end of Eddie’s dick where he’d grown flushed and hard against the counter. But the thought of Richie pulling out and leaving him there while he went to the bedroom to jerk off was even worse. He has a thought of Richie coming all over their bedsheets, of wasting his come instead of depositing it deep inside Eddie where it belonged, and he almost whines.

“No Richie, I want it so bad, please. Please don’t pull out,” he begs, in a voice he doesn’t even recognise. Something high and wanton. A voice he didn’t even know he could make until Richie laid him down on his bed one night all those months ago and pushed inside him for the first time. 

“Beautiful boy,” Richie says sweetly. “Finish it, come on,” he murmurs.

So Eddie does. As Richie continues his slow, tormenting pace, Eddie finishes whisking the filling and lifts the bowl with shaky fingers so he can pour it into the pastry shell. He almost drops it, but manages to right the bowl at the last second. Afterwards he stares at it: the beautiful, flaky, butter pastry crust with its autumnal filling, and that floaty feeling of satisfaction comes over him. He’d done good. He did exactly as Richie told him.

“I’ve done it, Richie,” he sighs, his voice sounding faraway. “I’ve finished the pie.”

He melts when Richie kisses him on the side of his neck, scraping his teeth over his pulse point where it jumps rapidly.

“I knew you could do it, Eddie, I knew you could make me happy.”

And Richie rewards him for it. With one hand he pulls Eddie’s hips back and with the other he pushes Eddie’s cheek down against the counter until Eddie's bent at an obscene angle. At a fuckable angle, Eddie thinks with a shiver. But that’s the last coherent thought he has for a long time because a moment later Richie’s pulling out until just the tip of his dick is spearing Eddie open, and then he does what Eddie’s wanted all this time. He shoves back inside, the squelch of the lube pornographically loud in their quiet kitchen, and he rails him hard, letting that hidden, ferocious side come out.

It’s the hardest fuck Eddie’s had in days, and fuck it feels so good, his ass bouncing off Richie’s sharp hips on every thrust, Richie's cock punching his tiny hole open, and the low-pitched growl coming from Richie’s throat making his dick drool at the tip.

It's something he can't believe he's denied himself for so long.

"I kind of want to eat this pumpkin pie out of you," Richie suddenly says. "Would you let me do that? Just finger it inside of your dumb cunt and then eat it out of you?"

And it shouldn't sound hot. It should sound ridiculous. But it doesn't stop Eddie from crying out or his balls drawing up.

"I'm going to-"

He cuts off on a high whine as Richie reaches around and grabs him in warning.

"You better not. Not until I say."

Eddie nods, and Richie starts fucking him again, hammering his prostate on every push inside him, muttering so filthy it makes Eddie flush all the way down to his chest.

And when Richie finally tells him to come he does, clenching around him until he shoots sticky white all over the counter. 

“Good boy,” Richie says as he pulls his cock out to smear the sticky head against the sore skin at his hole, making Eddie quiver. “Now let's go for that money shot. How much do you think you can make Daddy come?"

And Eddie, with gusto, shows him.

#halloween reddie #reddie #reddie drabbles #minors dni #d/s #dom/sub #tw food #tw eating #tw daddy kink #tw food kink #dom richie #sub eddie #tw feminization

[cant-blink]

Prisoner, Ch. 1

Summary: Gigan and Megalon meet a young Ghidorah. Gigan is intent on converting the child into their pirate crew, whether he likes it or not. 

-

What the hell happened here?

Glancing between the red planet ahead of them and the radar meant to detect life, both seemed desolate. But that can’t be right, he’s heard all about this world and the rare fauna it held, valued on the exotic pet black-market. Yet the sensors were picking up no life down below. Not even a plant.

Gigan rechecked the coordinates, just to ensure that they made it to the right world. Yep, it was and he wondered if there was some sort of malfunction.

He glanced back, seeing Megalon play-wrestling with Scoli. He said nothing to the beetle and centipede, as he directed the ship to orbit this world. Maybe they were in a bad spot? But as they moved, there continued to be no signs of life down below. Odd, very odd indeed. It was almost li-

Wait, there we go! The radar was finally picking up life signatures by the world’s single giant ocean. That’s a relief.

He lets out a soft breath, a smile growing on his beak as his hooked claw reached out and delicately pushed some of the buttons on the control panel. He glanced back again at his crewmates.

“Hey,” he started, getting their attention. “We’re going in for a landing.”

And that’s the only warning they were getting to brace themselves before he plunged the ship down into the atmosphere with speed. Flames erupt from the front of the ship and the floor began to tremble slightly before increasing in intensity. The emergency light flashed as warnings came to the control panel’s computer to slow the fuck down! But Gigan held firm, his beak cracking into a wide grin. 

The screaming coming from behind him only encouraged his behavior as they cut through the last layer of cloud.

Cutting it a bit short, he leveled out the ship close enough to the ground to whip up a huge plume of dirt and debris. Their momentum held firm, the landscape zooming beneath them at breakneck speed.

Looming up from the horizon was a mountain, that they were heading straight for!

“GIGAN, STOP IT!!” he heard shouting and he was pretty sure it was Megalon. He lets out a laugh before activating the anti-gravity devices to lift the ship up higher to avoid a mountain range. There was the ocean just beyond, purple in color. Here we go. He finally brought the ship to a halt and began hovering it down towards the ground. Easy now, easy... Putting down the gears, the ship landed delicately onto the rocky shore. 

Perfect, as always!

Turning towards his crew, he saw Scoli clinging to a wall and Megalon stuck on his back and he shook his head slightly. But he did nothing to help up his clumsy friend as he refocused on the control panel. 

“Get ready to go. I’m going to activate the cameras; I want full 360 view of the place.” He glanced out a window. “Don’t want to miss out on an opportunity, after all.”

-

He’s almost done with this world.

Its lifeforms were quite large and plentiful, and so many of them had young. Perfect conditions for harvesting lifeforce and fueling his growth. He’s already gathered enough victims into his bio-sac dome to make the journey to the next world and was now occupying his time until his meal was ready for consumption. Nothing more fun than a round of exploration, and senseless murder!

He had just found the ocean, and he was playing with it. Its water seemed to have solidified into a thick purple substance, like gelatin, and it seemed to be alive in and of itself. It would rise up in thick tendrils and nudged against his legs in an attempt to engulf him; it reminded him of his bio-sac’s tentacles snatching up anything that came too close. 

Luckily, it was very easy for him to pull free and it only encouraged his curiosity. He would bite into the jelly and his teeth would penetrate a transparent layer. There was the taste of salt-water in the fluid that poured into his maw. 

Blegh.

He wasn’t a fan of eating it, and he lets the pieces splatter onto the ground from his mouth. But biting chunks out of it was still very fun indeed. What was more fun, though, was him spotting a creature further out to sea. It wasn’t a species he’s met before, and how could he resist flying out to meet it?

This prey was the largest creature he’s met in his short life so far, about half his size. It stood upright, without front appendages beyond a few small tentacles at the front of its body. Its disproportionately large feet were gouging chunks out of the gelatin ocean as it walked on its surface. It had a crest structure jutting out the back of its head and a large glowing... eye on either side of it, glowing a bright amber. 

It seemed so blissfully unaware of his presence as he flew over it, as if it was confident its sheer size would protect it from harm. No doubt, it had no natural predators on this measly planet, but he was anything but natural.

He opened his jaws and shot flaming energy balls at it. The thick purple liquid rippled out as some of his fireballs struck the surface, explosions coming up around his prey. It lets out an echoing booming cry and the young Ghidorah does not let up. He shoots another trio of fireballs, one of them striking its tail and severing it to fall into the disturbed ocean. The tentacles thrashed around as its cries grow more high-pitched in distress.

Chuckling to himself, the young dragon swooped in from behind, his talons out to sink into the creature’s flesh. It began to struggle, but he was not to be dislodged as his three jaws surged forward to tear into its flesh. Rip it apart bit by bit.

After a moment spent torturing this creature, his wings began to flap. Luckily, this world had a thick atmosphere with light gravity, allowing him to take off with relative ease even with this added burden.

There was a bit of a suction effect trying to pull it off the ocean, as if the creature was gripping it, but with another tug, he ripped it free. Chunks of the purple gelatin fell from its feet and back onto the rest of the ocean.

He flew this creature back to the beach, and dropped it onto land without care. Its collision onto the beach was not a pleasant one from the sound of it and it seemed to struggle getting itself back up. He doesn’t allow it to recover as he landed beside it, his jaws clamping onto different parts of its mangled broken body before lifting it into the air.

Hearing the cries of fear and pain as he slammed his prey into the ground repeatedly was like music to his ears and always had him wanting to hear more. He hoped this was a plentiful species, as he was starting to run out of toys to play with.

It was a sure sign that soon, it’ll be time to move on. 

Dropping his still-living prey onto the ground one last time, he planted a foot onto it to keep it pinned and leaned down to start stripping flesh from its body to devour. He didn’t require flesh to survive, he needed only to sap their life energy. But it was still fun to taste, to rip apart, even better if they were still alive while he did so.

His right head caught sight of something flashing through the sky over the mountains. His left head focused on it as well as he fed, his large eyes taking in every detail.

Not a meteor, but a ship. It was landing somewhere much further up the beach.

Oh, good! More toys to play with! It’s not often that prey just hand themselves on a silver platter like this.

Licking his bloodied lips, he shifted his foot to where its giant amber eyes were, assuming this must be the head. The creature wasn’t even struggling anymore, even as he placed all his weight onto that foot, crushing it beneath his weight. Feeling the bones break apart and the blood spreading over his sole, he pulled his foot away to admire his work for a moment before turning away. He started running towards the ship, his wings fanning open wider to catch the wind until he built up enough speed to kick off the ground and fly into the air.

Let’s have some fun.

-

“Ghidorah?”

Megalon tilted his head, looking back at the screen Gigan was watching, spotting a small kaiju flying in. The cyborg had the image zoomed in and enhanced, and he can see a three headed creature making a bee-line straight for them. The beetle has never met this infamous ‘Ghidorah’ before, so he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. This, however, wasn’t it.

“That’s Ghidorah?” he couldn’t help but ask. This was the creature that killed off Gigan’s Masters? The one the cyborg was lusting over? The one the beetle declared as his rival? THIS was the cosmic terror?!

Well, beating this thing to a pulp was going to be easier than he thought and he was about to hurry outside to do just that when Gigan speaks up.

“He’s not my Ghidorah,” he told him with audible confusion and disbelief. “This is a whole new one. I never heard of another Ghidorah being created.” The cyborg chuckled slightly as he watched the screen. This hydra was a lot smaller than the one he knew, a youngster most likely. Was his Ghidorah breeding somewhere out there and this was one of his offspring? Isn’t that very interesting...

“What do we do with it?” Scoli asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gigan chortled. “We invite him to join us. A Ghidorah, even a young one like this, will be more valuable than anything else we can poach from this planet.”

“If he’s so valuable, shouldn’t we sell him?” Megalon asked with an edge to his voice. He didn’t want to have this... thing with them, so he’s willing to say anything to get rid of this little dragon. Gigan’s Ghidorah or not, Megalon didn’t want the potential competition for the cyborg’s attention.

Gigan was more than aware of what the beetle was trying to do and he couldn’t hold back a smirk at Megalon’s jealousy. “No amount of money would be good enough.” He heard the ‘hmph’ from the insect and turned back to look at the little hydra. “Like it or not, Megalon, we’re keeping him.” He looked towards Scoli. “Clear out one of the containment units, one of the heavy duty ones, just in case. We’ll meet you outside.”

Scoli nodded softly before turning and scurrying away towards the lower decks. Gigan spent another moment to watch the little dragon come in for a landing nearby before opening the doors and moving towards the exit.

Megalon rushed to keep up. “But what if it’s not a Ghidorah and it’s just some random thing that LOOKS like a Ghidorah?” What did he have to say to discourage this cyborg’s interest in this youngster?

“You’re being silly now, babe,” Gigan said with humor before continuing. “I know what a Ghidorah looks like. There’s no mistaking them for anything else.”

“But... but... He’s so tiny! Are we really going to play baby-sitter until he’s all grown-up?”

“I play baby-sitter with you all the time, soooooo...” Gigan drawled before he looked over his shoulder at him, knowing exactly how to shut this beetle up. “You’re not trusting me, Megalon. Acting all jealous over a kid of all things.” He maintained hard eye-contact with the insect. “Keep yourself in check, or I’ll start reconsidering our friendship.”

Megalon froze for a moment. Did Gigan just call him- “I’m not jealous!” the beetle stated defensively, fumbling over his thoughts a bit as he tries to come up with a valid excuse for his behavior. “I just don’t think this is a good-”

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion came and the ship’s foundation shook. Gigan knew immediately what was happening; the damn kid was attacking their ship! Without another word towards Megalon, he rushed outside and turned in the direction the young Ghidorah should be. There he was, shooting... fire at the hull.

He never knew his own Ghidorah to spit fire. In the time they spent together in Nebulan captivity, he’s only ever seen him shoot lightning. Very interesting...

The little one very quickly caught sight of his movement and all three of those heads turned towards him.

Silence...

-

Well, this wasn’t what he was expecting.

He was expecting small lesser creatures to be in this ship; that’s always been the case in his experience. But what came out was no small creature, oh no. This one was damn near twice his size!

He’s never seen anything so huge in his short life; in fact, he’s never met a fellow kaiju before. He was still young enough that different races still held novelty to him, and his eyes took in every detail. The creature had green flesh and gold... scales? And three wings, and one eye. And 2 extra appendages that ended in silver hooks. A weapon, that’s what this thing is.

But he was not one to be easily intimidated; even as young as he is, a Ghidorah was still not a creature to mess with. Besides, can you imagine how much life-force he can syphon out of this thing? Sure, it’s not as potent as the souls of children, but the sheer amount would more than make up for it. It would be enough to fuel TWO trips to the next world!! This thing looks very pointy and sharp though, so best to be carefu-

“Hey, kid,” the creature spoke in an odd mixture of a natural and mechanical voice. Really, the fact it talks at all was most surprising. The young Ghidorah never had anyone actually talk to him in a way he understands. Supposed it was an inevitability, but what now?

Flee, or try to kill it for that bounty of lifeforce? Never before has he ever had to make that kind of decision. He usually just defaulted to the latter.

“Ghidorah, right?”

Wait, how did it know his name...?

...

Heh, seems his reputation has preceded him. But then, what did this thing want? It knew who he was and yet doesn’t run in fear? His suspicions were starting to overcome his pride. For the first time, he engaged in this conversation. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Gigan,” the creature said in a strangely casual tone that did nothing to ease the young dragon.

“How do you know who I am?”

“Heh, I know another Ghidorah,” he told him. “Great friends, him and I. Used to work together in another solar system. A pleasant surprise to see another one here. You’ve been having fun, I see.”

The young dragon narrowed a pair of eyes. Another Ghidorah? He had no idea there were other Ghidorah out there. The idea any of them would be friends with this thing was dubious though. 

“Why did you come here?” He had no intentions on stopping his questioning, especially not while he was still on edge about this whole situation. 

"Glad you asked. Y'see, I travel around, stripping worlds of their resources, and life," At once the young Ghidorah's eyes lit up a bit with interest, and this 'Gigan' seemed to notice as he chuckled. "Yeah, sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Exactly why I worked so well with the other Ghidorah, when our goals align perfectly, huh?" He took a step closer and the dragon's body tensed up, still apprehensive. Thankfully, Gigan comes no closer. "I came to this world looking for a good time. And here we are. Fate works in strange ways, bringing us together, huh?"

The youngster can already tell where this was going before this funny-looking creature said it.

“How can I not give you the opportunity to join me? Whaddya say, kid? Interested?” 

The hydra doesn’t answer or move for a long moment. So many red flags were shooting up in his heads, and he was unsure if it was just his natural instinct to distrust other lifeforms. He just... didn’t like this thing. He didn’t like how it spoke to him or the words it was saying. It just... seemed manipulative.

He should get out of here. Whatever this thing has planned, it wasn’t good and he takes a step back. 

His instincts seemed to prove correct as the creature’s beak twisted into a smirk at seeing him step back. His tone too seemed to change, still friendly but with an edge laced into it. 

“You sure you want to do that? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

The little Ghidorah said nothing, glaring at this creature before shaking his heads. Yeah, it was time to leave. He should fly back to his bio-sac and devour what he can before vacating this planet. Now. The urgency in his instincts only got worse when he spotted movement by the door to find another giant kaiju, roughly the same size as the one in front of him. It wasn’t as sharp-looking, but it did have pointy front limbs. It had no wings that he can see and it had a strange... horn between giant golden eyes that looked to be made of a bunch of little eyes.

“Such a shame,” the pointy one continued, the red jewel on that forehead starting to glow. “I was hoping you’d be smarter than the last Ghidorah.”

The youngster couldn’t ignore the red-flags anymore and he attempted to make a run for it. But no sooner had he turned his heads than he felt a jolt as a red beam erupted from the creature, hitting the scales in his chest.

Thankfully, his underside had heavy plated armor that held up well, but it was still enough force to stumble him back. He screeched in anger before regaining his balance, facing the two giant kaiju.

Seemed he had no choice but to stand and fight, in what would be the most dangerous battle he’s ever faced in his young life.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #gigan #megalon #godzilla #cretaceous ghidorah #small cross-over to the documentary 'alien planet' #you should watch it #it's great

[starkerisendgame]

Hi! This is weird to ask but can you make a starker fic with Peter being a camboy and he doesn't know that his idol is watching his shows. Eventually when Tony figures out that Peter is Spider-Man, he goes to Peters apartment like in the movie and they chat. After the whole civil war is over, Tony proposes to be Peters Sugar daddy. P.s. Love your fics 😘❤

I hope this is what you wanted! I’m so sorry WIPs are taking me a long time, I’m working across three accounts and I’m finishing up in college for the semester. Thank you sm for such an invigorating, exciting prompt!

TW: Breathplay/Choking | Daddy kink | Online sex work/sexual cam work | Overstimulation | Age difference | Secret voyeurism

[P.2]

Struggling financially sucked in general. Being a struggling student was even worse; because supplies weren’t cheap and textbook price tags made him whimper and there was only so much ramen a guy could eat before looking at the packets made him want to headbutt a metal spork.

Arguably worse, though, was being a struggling student who spent most of his nights running around as Spiderman, using expensive chemicals for his web formula (there was only so much he could steal from the school) and constantly having to repair his suit. Not to mention the eye-watering medical bills on the very rare times he actually dragged himself to hospital.

All in all, whilst he enjoyed his life; he also spent most of it envying the people who didn’t have to choose between their water bill and a new winter coat. Or patching up their secret superhero suit and eating something other than instant noodles for the rest of the month. When he’d received a message on his Instagram account from a supposed ‘director of entertainment’, alongside a link to what had turned out to be sexual camshow website, well. He’d almost immediately marked it as spam and moved on.

Except.

Peter had always been complimented on his looks. His ‘pretty face’ and the lithe way his body had developed, trim little waist and strong arms. His plush mouth and his wide eyes. At first it was as a young child, doe-eyed and chubby-cheeked. How cute other parents would coo, prodding at his long lashes and his tight little curls.

As a young teen, there had been some negatives thrown in. Sneers at his slightly feminine looks. Though it hadn’t stopped him from brawling about on the football field or going through that horrible phase where he didn’t give two genuine fucks about his clothing. Girls had asked if he wore mascara, if he curled his hair, had giggled over how pretty he was.

As a young adult, Peter’s looks were both a bane and a privilege. He had endless compliments, advances, all the sex he could want (and didn’t accept). People bought him drinks or let him buy the last of something at a bat of his lashes. And in turn, people sneered at him and called him gay. Told him he needed to ‘man up’ and that a face like that didn’t belong on a boy. He got carded for everything and the time the delivery guy for his dildo asked him for ID would forever be the single worst moment of his life.

And the sexual remarks…Well. Peter stared at his phone, at the site address typed into the search bar but unpressed, biting nervously at his lip. He’d been told before he’d be good at porn. That he was good looking enough to do things like sell nudes, or model. And it brought in a lot of money, even for basic stuff, right?

He hit send.

And that was how Tony found SpiderTwink2001. Not very creative on Peter’s part, but then again, the boy hadn’t actually expected his profile to go anywhere. At first it was filled with meh quality shots from his phone. Awkward playing the camera and fumbled editing as he learned.

But then he taught himself and used what spare money he could find doing odd-jobs and as thank yous from the people he saved as Spiderman and bought himself a pretty basic DSLR recording camera. Some mid-quality editing software and his videos became clearer. Smoother. He learned how to talk as though the camera was his partner and learned what angles worked.

By the end of the year, SpiderTwink2001 was the 55th most popular blog on the entire site, and Tony Stark was invested.

He hadn’t meant to find it. Not at first. Well. He’d been looking for porn, obviously, but he’d stumbled across Peter’s blog after searching for close up videos, full on scotch and overcome with the sudden desire to watch a cute little ass stretch open around a cock.

He was barely on page three by the time he found the video, apparently one of the guy’s most popular shoots. It begun with a shot of his lower back and the fat, round swell of his ass, sitting above one of the largest dildos Tony had seen in a while. A little bubble in the lower hand corner of the video informed him the toy was almost four inches in circumference, and almost eight inches in length. His own cock, of similar measurement, immediately made its presence known.

The boy begun to sink down in a controlled, slow movement, the camera at just the perfect angle to catch the toy’s shimmery blue body disappearing slowly, so slowly into the welcome embrace. The softest, sweetest moan Tony had ever heard drifted from the holo-screen, high and keening as the boy just kept sinking down, swallowing the toy inch by inch. The camera zoomed in as the boy then begun to lean forwards, bending the dildo and giving the camera a HD view of where it was hidden in the plush depths of his ass.

“Kid’s good” Tony grunted, digging a heel into the bulge of his cock. Knew how to perform. The kid was breathy but not the overly fake every-second-of-the-video moan/scream sounds that most porn contained. Just the odd sound at suitable intervals that had Tony sinking lower in his bed, thighs parting as he kneaded lazily at his arousal.

The boy rode the toy at a torturous pace, so much so that even Tony was impatient in his pleasure, intent on watching the video until it ended, but not wanting to cum too quickly into it. The boy’s raw little rim stretched around the toy, rosy and tight as he bounced and ground in turn. Greedily clinging to the toy on each upwards motion, swallowing it down with ease on each downward. He was a pretty thing, shaved and clean with tight, round little balls. Strong thighs when the video panned out a little.

About mid-way through Tony let his head fall back, lifted his hips to let his cock flop free of his boxers and against his hip, his own pre-cum hot on his skin as he reached down, wrapped long fingers around a longer length and squeezed just enough to stave the ache. On the screen the face-less boy had sunk deep onto the dildo and was rocking on it, no doubt grinding his prostate as just visible between his legs, he pumped his cock in time to his movements.

The boy was letting out desperate little unfs with each motion, quiet, almost like he was not home alone. Tony stroked himself firm and slow, more feeling the length than doing anything about the way it drooled over his stomach. The video still had a way to go, and he wanted to be there for the end of it.

Tony breathed out as he watched the boy, who was riding his sweet spot like he’d die if he didn’t. Tony found himself responding each time a sweet, high little moan or whimper came from his speakers, stripping his cock in time to the way the boy’s hips began to twist and grind faster.

And then the boy was slowing, staving off his pleasure, and rising to his knees. Tony was about to spit a curse - because how cruel was this? - When the camera cut, and the scene stole his breath away, fingers locking around the base of his cock.

Now, the boy’s front was to the camera, hips pushed forwards, low on his haunches so the dildo was bent backwards into his pert little body, the boy’s round, small balls resting on its base. His cock was a true thing of beauty, petite and slender, cut neatly. The tip was dusky pink and sheened with slick.

His hips rolled sensually five more times, and that pretty, pink dick jerked against a taut stomach and prominent hips, a cracked cry filling Tony’s ears and pearly globs of cum splattered against that slender stomach and began to dribble down the muscles slowly. Tony spat a curse and his hips hips lifted in response, barely managing to lift his shirt out of the way of his own cum.

It got worse from there. He followed SpiderTwink2001, and found it was his go-to blog. When he was tense and full of adrenaline after missions. When he came home from Galas in need of stress relief. When some little shit riled him up with no intentions of following through.

That pert little ass and pretty little cock almost became akin to an addiction. Tony set up a software that would send him an alert on any new videos, found that he’d more or less abandoned any and all other porn in favour of watching the boy, who never showed his face but was still the body behind all of Tony’s wet dreams.

He was in a meeting when his phone vibrated softly, just enough to draw his attention, in the specific three-beat pattern that he’d designated to SpiderTwink2001′s alerts. He sucked in a sharp breath and risked a glance across the room, making sure that Pepper was watching the slides and not him before he risked sneaking his phone from his pocket, just enough to see the top portion of the screen.

SpiderTwink2001: Face Reveal.

Tony nearly dropped his phone, leg jerking up and knee banging into the underside of the table. He spat a curse, cringing as he looked up to find the rest of the room eyeing him warily.

Except for Pepper. She eyed him like she was mentally throttling him with great sincerity.

“Lab stuff. Continue” he dismissed, waving a hand. The poor marketing employee was only three words into her sentence when he abruptly stood. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Continue, I just won’t be here”.

“Tony fucking Stark, sit down or I-”

“Will be receiving a very big gift basket very soon. Do enjoy the lunch!” Tony hastened to cut her off, darting passed before Pepper’s manicured nails could snag his arm. He could feel the irritation radiating off her, and vowed to upgrade her gift basket from ‘very big’ to ‘the biggest’.

He was barely in the safety of his own penthouse when he was waving up the holo screen, hands already unbuckling his suit pants as he moved towards the expensive couch. As an afterthought he asked JARVIS to lock down his floor, sinking onto the plush seat with a groan as he set SpiderTwink’s video to the screen.

It began with just a body shot, the boy naked save for a pair of sleek black shorts, like he’d been at the gym or in bed before deciding to make this. And then he began to talk. SpiderTwink’s voice was soft and lilted, a little higher than most men’s, but delicious to Tony’s ears. He’d heard that voice mewling out ‘Daddy, please!’ More times than he could count.

“Okay. Uh. So I mean this is kinda two things? At once. Two reveals, I guess. Firstly, I’ve decided to branch out into camming, and doing live shows. Which is kinda why I’m doing this video”.

Tony’s fingers stilled over his buckle, both invested and mildly disappointed. Clearly this wasn’t going to be a porny kind of face reveal, but it still meant getting to see the visage that belonged to every wet fantasy from the past four months. He let his hands fall away and shifted to get comfortable instead, listening intently.

“And, uh. I mean, I can’t really stop any of you trying to like, stalk me on Facebook and stuff, really. But…Please don’t? Its kinda weird, and-”

The talking continued for a little while, endless, cute rambling that bounced from topic to topic. Tony increased the volume and went to get himself a scotch, buckling his belt again as he went. He was back on the couch when the boy sucked in a sharp breath, stomach muscles flexing, and reached for the camera.

Tony brought the scotch to his lips for a slow pull, and inhaled the burning amber liquid when the single prettiest boy he’d ever seen blinked owlishly at the camera, nervous and shy.

He had a slender face, with a strong jaw and prominent cheeks. That was about as much as Tony could notice behind the blurring of his eyes, waving for the video to pause as he hacked a series of coughs, thumping at his chest.

“Sir, do you need-”

“No! No” Tony wheezed, shaking his head. Several more moments of feeling like someone had dropped a petrol bomb into his lungs, and he sank back against the couch, wiping his eyes and motioning for the video to continue. SpiderTwink gave him a sheepish, meek smile, like apologising for the incident.

“So. Uh. Hi”.

Hi indeed.

The boy had slightly mismatched eyebrows, one ticking upwards midway through, but it gave him a sweet, inquisitive look. He had a wide mouth and even wider eyes, dark brown and framed by thick lashes. He screamed pretty as much as strong, as Tony knew from his lithe, toned figure. Tony paused the video just to stare at him a little longer, transfixed.

Somehow, knowing he was so invested in someone so attractive only served to make it even better. The kid almost seemed too good to be true, such a perfect little body and a pretty face to boot. His fingers itched to type the command, to find out everything he could on the boy, but whilst he was somewhat of a pervert, he wasn’t a creep. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against his whiskey tumbler.

“JARVIS. I want to be notified the instant this kid goes live. Every single time. I don’t care if I’m mid-battle or mid-meeting” Tony instructed, then he paused, and raised his free hand to rub at his jaw. “And hide any financial connections to this from Pep. And Rhodey. In fact…Make another ghost account. I don’t want another lecture”.

“Of course, Sir” JARVIS responded diplomatically, and Tony shifted, clicking off the video and onto one of his personal favourites. His cock had immediately perked up at the kid’s face, and wasn’t going anywhere soon. Besides, now that he could imagine that pretty little mouth and those gorgeous eyes while watching the kid fuck himself stupid, the videos were just so much better.

“Lock down all communications. I don’t want any interruptions for the next 60 minutes” Tony commanded as he began to open his belt buckle, tongue sliding across his lower lip in anticipation.

#fanfic #fan fic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #starker smut #starker au #starker cu #starker ncc #ironspider smut #ironspider cu #ironspider ncc #starker cam au #starker camboy #starker wip

[theawesomeally]

Before We Met (Preview)

Prologue

In a world inhabited by mythic creatures, love was commonplace several millennia ago, though difficult to master. After his training advances over the decades, his powers became obsolete and were largely discarded.

[The camera zooms in on the city and two blazing specks of light dash all over the place as one shoots lasers at the other. We then see an enemy aircraft flying throughout while it's chasing a young man, who is running from the pursuer. We see full closeups of a guy in his craft and Rocky as he runs. The scene freezes after an explosion with Rocky barely missing it.]

[voice over]

Through the years I have been known by many names. Marshmallow, The Furry Lover, The Daredevil, Frisky Two Times and then The amazing Ryan Reynolds. But to most, I am Rocky, the awesome one!

[Some other women, leaning across the wall, and Rocky getting his shades from his pocket. Put it onto his eyes. While he puts his hoodie onto his shoulders. Rocky was dressed like a gentleman, but he fought with honor or dignity and pulled at the knot into his tie. Females are not meant to grab his attention, and if it does. To be fair, he heard most of what he'd said up to this point. The parts that weren't of his interest, anyway.

Okay, maybe that wasn't much]

His sigh is heavy with exasperation,

"Can you keep your dick in your pants at the gala?"

Grab his phone from his pocket, automatically switching it out of Bluetooth mode, and bring his earphone up to his ear.

I will never forget you, Margarita. [The female stops and cringe after hearing the name. His blue prominent eyes were not well adapted to winking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber with majestic effect.

Rocky pretend to consider as Rocky step out of the car and button his tux jacket. "Hmm."

"Nice wheels, sir," the valet says, unconcerned that he was on the phone. Rocky pull out his wallet and flash a fifty-dollar bill. "Take care of her and this is yours."

"Yes, Mr. Rocky."

"I mean, Rosa. Uh...sorry. I think maybe I should go.???." She wrapped her arms over her chest and shook her head with a smirk curved across her face. Rocky grinned and raised an ironical finger in salute Rocky starts backing away. "You can't get away with it." the security guard muttered, holding out one hand. He was moving very slowly, thinking Rocky was the enemy or something. Blinks at her as a farewell, but glance with a smug as he sees the vampire's ring. Mind was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't notice the familiar vampire standing behind him. A vampire with bad breath psycho. "Hey, come on, dickie! You're trashing public property here!" He is thinking about how he had to sneaked up onto the roof and is currently standing a few feet behind him.

Rocky then gently slides the ring off the vampire's finger using his katana.

Light glinted off a myriad of his Katana and the vampire ring. Spray from the dust to blew up into his face, but sweat more than seawater moistened his palms as he gripped the eagle. His eyes were as blue while the vampires eyes were cold as the stormy weather.

"Hey, it's Gale calling," says Rocky called over his shoulder to one nefarious vampire. "Love the shiny suit. Really brings out the sex trafficker in your eyes." Rocky had commented, half jokingly and straight up confident, how that guy would have been considered handsome - if he ever bothered to smile.

Cut to a shot of a cliff.

A grim expression again carved itself into the soldier's face as he gazed up at the jeering vampires, their bodies smeared with blood, upon the cliff tops. Even the most cowardly of tribes in Gaul would fancy its chances from such advantageous ground, one being was mused. The sound of their jeers was occasionally accompanied by the high pitched swish of an arrow, as the odd archer tried his luck. Invariably the missile would zip harmlessly into the sea, or at best a thud could be heard as it struck as a human shield or the solid surface of the earth.

Cut back to the fighting scene. Rocky is skewering a guy with his swords, and kicks the vampire in the chest, sending him back down and puts his sword away. The guy gasp and starts fighting with Rocky. This continues for awhile until Rocky get's away again. Using two fingers he salute the vampire as a goodbye.

Making a soft chuckle. He flicks the vampire ring up into the air. It comes back down and lands into one of the streets, causing his background to explode. The shards of fire fell in slow motion behind him.

He is consumed in the explosion, as his body can be seen flying off the ground, flipping off the camera as it goes. "Oh, fuck." Rocky mutter under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry." A small apology leaving his lips with a smirk.

"That will teach you, not to mess with me," A familiar voiced ask, up righting his head as he walk over the circles and appeared in front of him,

(narrator)

So, I know what you're thinking. Why is that incredibly handsome guy being chased by a madman with a huge shiny fangs from the Civil War?

[The scene freezes after an explosion sending Rocky flying off the ground from the ground. After the dust settles, leaving Rocky lying unconscious on the ground.]

This guy's got the right idea. Well, to be honest, it feels like I've been the captain of my whole life. Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It's kind of what I do--You know what? Let's back up.

[We see the whole fight going in reverse as well as frames of future clips for a split second each time, one passes as Rocky mimics a rewind sound effect] Cut to close-up of Rocky gets up to his feet. Cut to him sitting on the side of the gable roof at night. Wondering how long it would be before he saw the city again. He had been born with a wandering heart, and he embraced adventure, unafraid to face the dangers often presented by journeys into unknown places. Leaving civilization behind for the wilds of the frozen north, legs dangling over the side as he listens to his Walkman next to him playing 'Shoop.' Rocky was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures along with the lyrics, but he was focused on his own drawing, while listening to the music and coloring a picture with crayons. We see that the picture he's drawing is him shooting the vampire in the head, he was doing it with some crayons he had with him.

It was fun to see that getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He'd never soon change it to a reality. And then turned his head and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever balls happened to be paying a lot of attention to him.

Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who's balls did I have to snap to get my very own story? I can't tell you, but it does rhyme with dick. And let me tell you; he's got a nice pair of fucking underwear, he finished in an Swedish accent.

They'd get that joke, right?

Anyway, I got places to be, a kiss in the ass to fix, and - oh! hot weird vampire to kill.

He watched eagerly as the flashes of light began to appear below him – lots of rippers were a very dramatic little shit, after all – we're panning quickly towards the edge of the roof he was sitting on. Now having an appointment to keep, Rocky was quick to get onto edge of the roof and, in one fluid motion, opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman, and the song "Where Evil Grows" by The Poppy Family stays playing in the background as he jumped off the roof, landing in one of the coolest bar in Mystic Falls. It seemed that they had been drinking peacefully, listening to 'Angel of the Morning,' but when Rocky landed and that's when their peaceful night was over.

They look around for which they finally see as Rocky stands at a wooden doorway wearing a cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and red a white hoodie as he opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman. Opens up and the door swings open and the music resumes with people dancing and lights flashing as he goes inside the bar.

Nothing.

Absolutely positively not a fucking thing.

First one person turned, noticing him. Then more followed, until the whole patron was hushed, waiting. Everyone was watching, the same bewildered look on all of their faces. Eyebrows raised and narrowed eyes, etc. God, for months he'd played this moment over and over inside his mind. It most definitely never turned out like this. Whatever this was.

As he walks up to the bar. The room was narrow and about 90 feet deep. Light did manage to worm its way into the establishment, though. It seeped through the windows scattered along the walls, and through the gaps in the door between its wooden panels. A bar on the left at the front, then some upholstered horseshoe benches, then a cluster of freestanding tables on what, on other nights, might have been a dance floor. Then the stage, with the band on it. The band looked as if it had been put together by accident after a misfiling incident at a talent agency. The bass player was a stout old black guy in a suit with a vest. He was plucking away at an upright bass fiddle. The drummer could have been his uncle. He was a big old guy sprawled comfortably behind a small, simple kit. The singer was also a harmonica player and was older than the bass player and younger than the drummer and bigger than either one.

The guitarist was completely different. He was young and white and small. Maybe 20, maybe 5-foot-6, maybe 130 pounds. He had a fancy blue guitar wired to a crisp new amplifier and together the instrument and the electronics made sharp sounds full of space and echoes. The amp must have been turned up to 11. The sound was incredibly loud. It was as if the air in the room was locked solid. It had no more capacity for volume. But the music was good. The three black guys were old pros, and the white kid knew all the notes, and when and how and in what order to play them. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black pants and white tennis shoes. He had a very serious expression on his face. He looked foreign. Maybe Russian.

I watched them for a minute, and then I looked away. My name is Rocky, and once I was the most wanted man, with heavy emphasis on the past tense. I have been out nearly as long as I was in. But old habits die hard. I had stepped into the bar the same way I always step anywhere, which is carefully. One-thirty in the morning. I had ridden the train to West and walked south on Sixth Avenue and made the left turn on San Francisco bar and checked the sidewalks. I wanted music, but not the kind that drives large numbers of patrons outside to smoke.

His attention was taken away from patrons. It was at that point that he saw the young beautiful woman alone at her table, Her name tag read Katy, and her shirt clung tightly around her chest. Her hands worked quickly and gracefully with the bottles as she poured them another and took the empty's away.

I watched her in the gaudy, reflected light, with the music shrieking and pounding all around me. The two guys watched her. Her bodyguard watched her. She watched the guitarist. He was concentrating hard, key changes and choruses, but from time to time he would lift his head and smile, mostly at the glory of being up on the stage, but twice directly at the girl. The first of those smiles was shy, and the second was a little wider.

What met my eyes was a beautiful girl with golden hair and a bright smile that melted my heart. She was blond and blue-eyed, American woman who have a glow, and a smoothness complexion. She lives in New York, singing, listening to a band, and I was in love with her angelic voice. That was clear. There I was, a guy further back in the room, stood in the room staring at her. I was 6ft tall, wide man with a white hoodie and a black leather jacket under a hoodie. She was part of the reason I was here with her back in a city when we were at the age of 19 or less.

It wasn't the kind of glossy place that had a policy about dating rich girls, either for or against. Some call it a gold digger, and I guessed they had looked at her and her minder and made a snap decision against trouble and in favor of tips.

The part of her gaze that wasn't wary was filled with adoration, and it was all aimed in his direction. She was rich. She was alone at a table near the stage and she had a pile of A.T.M fresh twenties in front of her and she was paying for each new bottle with one of them and she wasn't asking for change.

She was a waitress and I loved her.

The woman stood up. She butted the lip of her table with her thighs and shuffled out from behind it and headed for the counter in back. I got there first. The sound from the band howled through it. The ladies' room was halfway down. The men's room was all the way at the end. Rocky leaned on the wall and scanned the room. As Rocky watched her walk in and squeeze through the crowd and she sat down on the bar stool, 1 feet away from him.

"Hey, Raoul, look what this kid dragged in. Oh, wait! That is the guy!," but they didn't hear. Too much noise. He caught them by the elbows, one in each hand. They spun around, as if ready to fight, but then they stopped. Fortunately for him, the first two who approached her were quick to heed her dismissal. She wasn't there to mingle with huge ass in leather jackets. She was just there to grab a drink and relax and pretty sure she made that pretty clear when she shot the first couple of idiots down.

The third guy, however, wasn't ready to take no for an answer.

"How about you let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

Their sex appeal eyes pried upon their eyes from the television screen above the bar and looked at the newcomer. With his hair greased back and one-size-too-big biker jacket on, the guy looked like prime wife-beater material. Perfect. Just what they needed to interrupt his evening.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said curtly, gesturing to the beer bottle in front of her.

"That's it? You're gonna chug that shitty beer and call it a night? Come on, let me get you a real drink."

She scoffed. "What? Like those idiots you got over there?" she glanced past him at the table where he and a couple of his friends had been sitting.

"It's a warm-up. Trust me, honey, we're just getting started over there. You should join us."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Like I said, I'm good."

She made the move to turn away and focus her attention back on the football game on the television when the guy grabbed her by the arm.

"What the hell's your problem?" This guy gripped her arm tightly, this guy's face practically scrunched up in a beastly snarl. "I don't like to be ignored, y'know?"

She yanked her arm out of his grip and stood up to face him directly. She knew pretty damn well where the conversation was headed and sure as hell were not about to get in a bar fight with their ass glued to the seat.

Before she could open her mouth, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

By hearing it and raising their head to turn to his voice, her smile grew a tad wider, recognizing the voice immediately. They simply looked so annoyed, at least much more than usual. His lips pulled into a tight frown, while their eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, back hunched over slightly if you'd look hard enough. Yep, those guys are just being grumpy as usual, but seemingly much more grumpy, except with their eyes laced with the slightest bit of concern. For herself, most likely.

The said person stopped, and looked over their shoulder to the voice. She put on a mellow look close to her usual one. Confrontation- unnecessary confrontation- was not exactly his thing. He tended to avoid fights like these. He could hold his ground better than most, but he preferred to keep out of the brawls and spats that others got involved in.

A voice caught his ear, she sounded like she needed help, despite the overconfident tone the stranger used. "Look, I don't wanna interrupt, but is this guy bothering you?" he looks up at her and says greeted casually, as casual as someone could be hanging for dear life. She looked up at me, startled that he was there. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you up?" he softly asked, when she turned to get a good look at the stranger in his handsome voice. She wasn't expecting the sight she was met with. A pair of piercing blue eyes smiled over her, puffing out her cheeks childishly when she looked at him. After she looked to her right to find Rocky taking his place beside her. Her pinkish lips turned up in a small smile as she ducked her head briefly with a laugh before tucking her hair behind her ear, "No, you did not," she said. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. She turned her head to look at him, catching his gaze with her own. He gave a small smile, stroking her hair softly with his index. "So, What exactly are you doing here?" she said softly, trying to maintain an even tone of voice.

"Oh you know, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I thought I caught a whiff of filthy human garbage coming from this place," he said,

"And sure enough here I am."

Desire pools dark and deadly in his groin. Gaze up at her, releasing her lip. Katy flush a deep crimson in her cheeks, and he runs his index finger down her cheek before handing her the headphones. "I'd like to kiss you, too, but you won't let me down, are you?." Rocky asked her. Besides, he's pulled the straps so tight he can barely move.

Amused smile on his lips, he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. He glances down at her, light blue-gray eyes alive, he glances up when she looks at his way and their eyes lock. And in that brief moment, she was paralyzed, staring at the impossibly handsome man who gazes at her with some unfathomable emotion. His gaze hot, burning into her, as they lost for a moment staring at each other.

It's there in the air between them, that electricity. It's palpable. He can almost taste it, pulsing between them, drawing them together.

"Oh my," she gasps as she basks briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction. The two men stood back, saying nothing, but looking at him with hard eyes.

Katy had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her look insane. Coby, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Rocky's a drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Katy had completely fallen for Rocky. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Katy's entire body feel light as a feather.

To be continued....

#myoc #fanfic #writters on tumblr #wattpad #my fanfiction #origial character #writting #TVD #tvd x reader #tvd universe #tvd rp #tvdfamily #vampire diaries #stories #novel #wattpad writer #Rocky X OC #comedy #original story #story #story time #story telling

[croookvillin]

This was from an rp yes I’m extra but no I will not make my rps shorter *TomTord* ( half monster Tom btw)

The dead leaves crunched under the heavy weight of his feet as he ran.

The world was silent, the only real noise reaching up to his ears was the constant pounding of his heart and the swooshing of the wind passing by him.

Tom didn’t dare look back, but either way, he knew no one would be able to reach him at this rate; and even through gritted teeth and short bursts of breathes, he continued to run straight ahead into the open, grassy fields.

He didn’t know where exactly he was headed to, but his body and mind both cried at him to continue, to continue to zoom past the giant nicotine-brown trees blocking the way, and to continue on through the throbbing, searing pain of his legs as they urged him to stop.

The eyeless Brit did not alter the quickness of his pace, even as the branches distorted looking into twisted limbs and reached out for him, trying to keep him away from his goal that even he was not certain what it was. Tom didn’t let them slow him down, and he cut and clawed anything in his path, tearing down twigs and other things to clear his way onward.

And then he came to an abrupt descend, his legs pressing harshly down onto the ground as to not accident swing him forward harshly onto the ground. Tom extending his arms out beside him, trying his best to restore his balance and ground himself onto the solid dirt.

The voices had long since came to an abrupt decease, and only now Tom was left alone with his jumbled thoughts as he recollected his breath.

He took in a long breathe through his nose, enjoying the sweet smell of fresh air and crisp waters as the sound rattled in his ears.

The water constantly pounded onto the rocks below, only to be silenced as it joined the rest of the stream ahead. The bliss pool at the bottom was varnish clear, and dozens of trees surrounding around, almost as if shielding away the beauty from the world; and Tom found himself removing the rest of his shambles he still called clothing as his eyeless eyes focused entirely on the beauty infront of him.

The water below seemed to call out to him in its soothing waves, and the flowers scattering around nodded their heads through the wind in agreement.

Tom could not deny them.

After removing the last piece of clothing from his body, (you know already ain’t no explaining needed) the Brit let his instincts overcome as he raced forward, ignoring the pain of his legs again as he launched his upper body forward and dived into the clear waters.

——-

“Thomas!” He’d called out again for what was the hundredth time that night. (Bro imagine though he’s living his best life and Tord gotta be looking for him smh.)

The grey eyed male continued to trek forward, still making sure to follow the path of the deep set tracks that lead into the dark forest ahead. The trees were still bared and naked from their usual mint green leaves, and Tord was thankful for the winter season still in motion that now allowed him more view ahead.

Still, he couldn’t deny the creepiness of it all as he stalked forward, his head raised and held high as he stepped a tentative foot into the unlit forest.

The naked trees were practically staring him down like silent sentries, and Tord took that as a silent threat as he continued. He wouldn’t let a handful of scary looking trees halt him from his ongoing search for the stupid Brit.

He continues to walk ahead, making sure to keep a sharp eye out, not wanting to risk getting spooked by anything secretly popping out at the most unnecessary times; but still making sure to check if Tom was nearby. His tracks stated otherwise though, since they seemed to stretch on towards the farthest north side downwards. The trees in the forest loomed over him, and during the day, Tord would have found it quite relaxing as the shielded him from the violent UV rays of the sun, but now, in the middle of the night with not even the stars guiding him, the Norski found it rather terrifying.

His heart raced, and he took a couple minutes to recollect thoughts from the rising panic.

Oh how his anxiety could be such a dick, and making him see things that aren’t even there to begin with. And if he wasn’t scared of Tom, then really-he had no excuse to be afraid of anything else.

So he marches onwards, his guard on high and the silence deafening to his ears.

Tord was leery about the whole situation, more so now that he had zero means of self defense. He tried hard not to breath in so much, as the musty air surrounding him made it almost painful to breath in, and luckily for him, the tracks were coming to an abrupt end, and Tord could faintly make out the sound or running water somewhere nearby.

He followed the sound, trying to make out whether it was all real and not just some hallucinations. The sound was more distinct every time he got closer. A waterfall.

The Norwegian picked up his legs and ran, his pace quickening with every step he took. His vibrantly red shoes hit the earthy ground with loud thumps, his heart quickening its pace as the tracks finally ended up ahead.

Tord gasped, the sight alone enough to blow the rest of his breath away as he stood in awe.

It was loud enough to get even Tom’s attention, who was busy showering himself in the clear waters underneath. His ears perked up, and stopped splashing the water around him as he swung his head around to stare Tord right into his blazing grey eyes.

He looked beyond pissed now.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? I have been going through this scary ass forest and looking for your over exaggerating ass-while you, deeming yourself worthy of some form of award, have been bathing here this whole time!?” He stepped closer with every complaint, his face reddening out of anger as he waved his hands around in gesturing motions. “I always have to be the big person in the group! Always! You never care about MY feelings, and you never care to ask how I am! Even before in highschool, you abandoned me like I was some sort of toy for your entertainment! Like I wasn’t good enough for you anymore-even when I had put myself through hell and back!” Tord took in a sharp inhale through his nose, “I know I’ve always stated ‘Put yourself in someone else’s shoes’ and even as I’ve done so, I still don’t understand why you’re such a dick to me! I always got the shorter end of the stick from you, and you never seem to even be bothered by it-always acting like we’ve never even been best friends before! Like everyone else matters except for me!” His lower lip quivered a fraction, and the Norwegian tried to man through the tears of rage that threatened to descend downwards, “And here I am! Slaving myself for you and your selfish needs and I always end up labeled as the bad guy! You know what Thomas! I’m so-!”

His ongoing rambling speech was cut to a halt as he felt something, a claw like hand tug at his ankle. Tord doesn’t even get a chance to cuss the other out before he’s being pulled and dragged into the water underneath his feet. He’d unknowingly stepped so close to Tom that he practically almost submerged himself into water.

Tom lets out a roaring laugh, the water splashing around his face and wetting his hair a bit. He keeps a hold on the Norwegians armpits and hoist him back up, not wanting to accidentally drown the poor man to death.

The Norwegian raised his head, his chin just barely above the surface of the water as he stared at Tom with full blown panic. His strawberry blonde hair plastered flatly onto his head, and Tom was able to now see the full length of it. It went down gracefully past his shoulders, and he had the urge to twirl one of the strands around his finger-if he could of course.

Tord tried to blink away the beads of water that had collected onto his long lashes, his mouth slightly agape as he gasped for short spurts of air.

His clothes were weighing him down and Tom’s clawed hands are the only thing keeping him from accidentally sinking downwards.

The Norski had barely let himself fully recollect himself before he’s pulling away, his wet brows furrowing again in rage, “Hva er galt med deg!”

Tom seriously had no idea what he’d said, but he pulls the other back forcefully.

“I couldn’t find another way to keep you quiet.” The Brit starts, before shushing the other and continuing with what he was saying, “-look Tord,” god it felt weird using his first name and not something snarky, “..I know we haven’t been on the best terms, but I care about you. I know I’ve been the biggest douche bag to you, but I always hated how I felt around you. How you of all people made me feel something others could not. It’s why I pushed you away, because I just didn’t want to get attached and risk getting my feelings hurt in the process. I was scared you leave like the rest, and even more now that you know the darkest parts about me. So if I pushed you away, I wouldn’t be so upset if you up and left because it was my doing.”

He carries the Norwegian back to shore, setting him down onto the dirt as he kept a bit of space between them.

Tord doesn’t say anything at first, he just kind of looks around before he’s letting his entire body slam into the ground behind him.

And then he’s laughing aswell, his stomach bouncing slightly as let’s the laughter bubble out of him.

The laughter soon dies down, and the Norwegian continues to lay there with his arms extending at his sides, the now moist dirt stinking to his clothes. “I always thought I did something wrong. That maybe I just wasn’t amusing enough for you. But this, this is rich.” He whispered out, grinning from ear to ear as he peeled open his eyes.

Now he was finally able to get a better look at the sky, for the stars were in fact out tonight, and they scattered like white paint over a black canvas. It was a sight, a beautiful sight that always had Tord gushing like a hopeless romantic.

The full moon looks like a giant cheese ball, he notes, as he props his elbows onto the dirt and heaves himself up. (God he’s a fatass)

Tom hadn’t said anything after that, but he did in fact, continue to stare at Tord the whole time. Their eyes met again, and the Brits ears perked up a bit unknowingly as his roommate softly smiled.

The Norwegian raised an arm above his head as he pulled the hem of his signature hoodie upwards, trying to pry away the clothing that clung tightly to his skin.

The eyeless Brit could only watch as the other undressed himself, tossing the red hoodie carelessly to his right as he made move to remove his grey shirt. Tom decided to look away, instead staring a bit too hardly at the water that cascaded down onto the marbled stones.

“I’m not a female. You didn’t have to look away.” Tord’s voice reasoned, laughing lightly again as he stood up to unbuckle his pants. “How’s the water?” He asks, shimmying out of his way too tight dark black skinny jeans.

“It’s nice..”

“Make room for two.” Tord stated simply, tossing his clothes carelessly to the side.

Tom hated to admit,

But he smiled so hard when he heard the splashing of water right behind him.

#ew tomtord

[captainillogical]

Devil’s Ballroom ch.2

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with wife @firstofficertightpants

The place actually happened to be like, right on the edge of Little Homeworld. Outside had full glass windows, tall, that reached the ceiling. Inside the lighting was dim, and a bit smokey. You figured it looked alright enough to head in, and gave the bouncer your ID. He nodded and you walked in. It smelt of cigars, and of cinnamon, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. A pretty woman in a low-cut red dress was playing the piano on the stage, and it was some contemporary jazz piece. The low murmur of people talking filled the air in between the swells of music, and the place actually seemed busy with people and even gems enjoying themselves. You liked the vibe. It was.. comfortable. At ease. You looked over at the bar, rather than any of the tables, and saw a spot near the end. Perfect. Right by the bathroom. You headed over and plopped down on the stool. There were three empty at the end, so you took the one in the middle, which had the best view of the stage from back here.

While waiting for the bartender to come back down this side, you took the chance to look  at the people around you. A couple familiar faces.. small town you know? And some new ones. New gems too. You can see Mr. Fryman sitting at a table with Kofi and Nanefua, and they look like they’re playing poker. You try not to snicker since Kofi looks absolutely blasted, and Mr. Fryman is cursing up a storm because Nanefua is clearly winning. You see her wink at Mr. Fryman. You suspect a rigged game.

Your phone chimes a couple times. You pull it out of your bag, and check to see who’s bothering you. Ah. The group chat.

    Alex: ughhh you guys my gmas killing me

    Alex: no seriously mexico fucking blows rn 

    Alex: i cant step outside without feeling like my balls are melting off my body

    Alex: and my brother won’t stop listening to the book of mormon soundtrack

    Alex: im going insane

Your friends are so melodramatic. You type out a couple of replies.

    Y/N: You should be used to mexican summers by now, you go every year.

    Y/N: And for the record, your brother is valid. Book of Mormon slaps.

    Alex: what the fuck youre supposed to be on my side u ass

    Alex: i thought our special thing was wicked. OUR SPECIAL THING, Y/N

    Y/N: I’m allowed to like multiple things. Including musicals. 

    Alex: never. fuck you. also what are you even doing rn come play minecraft with me

    Y/N: Yeah as much as I’d like to, I can’t.

“Y/N! So you finally came to see what this place is all about! What can I get ya?” you hear a familiar voice ask. Turning around to face the voice, you see Bismuth wearing her usual overalls and a rather nice looking bow tie. 

“Hey Bis, how’s it going? I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s nice. And uh, I’ll just take a hard cider for now.” You smile at her and set your phone down for a minute.

“Thank you! After we finished Little Homeworld, I had to find something else to focus on in my down time.” She explains while grabbing your drink from the fridge under her side of the bar, and opens it. “So tell me,” She sits the drink in front of you and leans on the counter. “What brings you out here today?”

You take a rather long sip from your drink before meeting the large gems eyes. On the stage, a tall, beardy man replaces the woman that just finished her piece. He immediately starts this jaunty, irish tune. He’s singing loudly, and it’s not bad. A couple of people are clapping to the tune.

“I just really needed to get out.” You replied, taking another sip from your drink. “I was kinda hoping I’d meet someone new, maybe get another friend to hang out with, since my friends wanted to ditch me this summer.” As you’re saying this, more people join the clapping. It’s getting a bit rowdy. “Or maybe at least get drunk enough to forget how lonely I feel.” You add, shrugging. 

“Well, I can supply the drinks, and at least a bit of company.” Bismuth winks, and turns to the patron 6 seats up waving her over. 

You check your phone again, and there’s more from Alex. AND Harper? She must still have phone service wherever she’s at.     Alex: what are u fuckin doin that so important that u cant play minecraft with ur best friend

    Harper: yeah, Y/N. the heck. Also alex, get lost, she’s MY best friend bitch

    Alex: u had ur chances but u left us so we’re a duo now. u can go

    Harper: excuse me!? I WILL end you.

    Y/N: Oh my god, chill. I’m just out right now, so I can’t okay? 

    Y/N: And nice of you to join us, Harper.

    Harper: fuck you I miss you okay. And I miss constant wifi :(

    Alex: OUT!? What do you mean OUT. its night. u play games with ME during this time

    Alex: for real what the fuck are you doing

    Harper: yeah, you don’t go out without us. Wtf are you doing?

    Y/N: I’m at a bar!!     Alex: WHAT

    Alex: dont tell me its the one place that just opened

    Alex: Y/N do NOT betray me you TOLD ME you were gonna go with me!!

    Y/N: I was. But I was also bored and you’re both gone, soooo. 

    Alex: wow

    Alex: i cant believe youve done this to me

    Harper: hmmm. ;)

    Harper: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ;)

    Y/N: What.

    Harper: you tryin to find girls again? 

    Harper: like that one time you went to empire city just to peruse the mall?

    Alex: LMAOOOOO

    Y/N: No.

    Alex: LMAOOOO Y/N GOOD LUCK TRYING TO FIND A GF LOLL

    Y/N: I’m not trying to find a girlfriend you fucks. Christ.

    Y/N: Also Alex, you’re one to talk. You can’t KEEP a girlfriend.

    Alex: ur just mad i have a passionate and intimate relationship w/ my hand

    Y/N: And it will probably stay that way. 

    Y/N: Besides, so far, no one cute here. So it’s a bust.

    Harper: a bust. Lmfao u just outed yourself :)

    Y/N: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

You put your phone down before seeing whatever Alex attempts to reply back with. It sounds like the current boisterous song is coming to a close, and really, most of the people here are clapping along with this guy. It’s fun. And despite the playful ribbing from your shit-talking friends, you’re starting to have a nice time. You finish your drink, and nod over to Bismuth who catches your eye and nods back. You look over onto the stage, the man having cleared the piano, and see Lapis wiping down the piano and seat. Guess he spilled his drink while playing. Lapis, unlike Bismuth, actually dressed up a bit for the job. Her hair was pulled in a cute, small bun, and she was wearing what looks like a tailored tux with no jacket. The vest fit her quite well. She seemed.. happy. Good for her.

No one had taken up the stage again yet, but the place was still lively with chatter. You see someone out of the corner of your eye move towards the stage, but Bismuth comes over again so you tear your gaze away. 

“Another cider? Or do you want something else this time, Y/N? She asks, cleaning a glass with a rag, and moves on to the next one. 

“Ehh, yeah, give me another cider.” You say as you pull out your phone again. Bismuth sets down the drink in front of you.

    Harper: what a goddamn disaster. she got that from me i think

    Alex: no, youre both disasters separately

    Y/N: Fuck you guys. Give me a break.

You hear the piano start to play again, and someone pulling the mic forward. You look up to see pink hair.. And someone kind of familiar. She’s wearing black slacks, a white collared shirt, and suspenders. The shirt is partially open, and you see part of a pink gem showing through on her chest. It looks like she’s got mascara running down her face. 

And then.. she starts to sing. 

It’s lovely. It’s slow and a bit sad, but she seems to be enjoying herself. She’s definitely done this before. Quite a few of the people around quiet down some, so you can hear her pretty clearly. You drink some, and text your friends.

    Y/N: Guys, I lied. There’s a cute gem here who can sing.

    Alex: holy fuk

    Alex: what

    Y/N: She looks kind of familiar though? I can’t quite place it though.

    Harper: dude theres like near 100 gems now in little homeworld lol

    Harper: you’ve probs seen most in passing? :P

    Alex: are you serious Y/N? cant flirt with human women so u turn to aliens? lmfao

    Y/N: Ohhhhh my god. Die.

The gem on stage sings the chorus with gusto - man she’s really getting into this. You’re kind of taken a bit with her performance. It just pulls you. But also.. She really seems familiar now and it’s bothering you.

    Y/N: No I’m serious she seems really familiar and not in that In Passing kind of way.

    Harper: what does she look like?

    Alex: yeah a description would be nice 

    Harper: TAKE A PIC

    Alex: holy shit YES 

    Y/N: I can’t take a pic. She’s too far away, it’ll be blurry.

    Alex: literally just zoom in lord almighty

    Y/N: Okay. Hold on a sec.

You turn on your camera app, and face the stage. Looks like the gem is actually finishing up her song. Perfect, you’ll snap a pic once she stands up. She finishes, and most of the people are clapping for her. You zoom in, and it’s grainy, but decent enough to make out most of her. You snap the pic.

The flash was on.

A couple people turn to look at you, and you try turning away quickly, horrified, and see the gem looking in your direction before walking off into the crowd of people. You cannot imagine a worse scenario. 

    Y/N: FUCK FUCCCCKKKKKK.

    Y/N: (image sent)

    Y/N: I GOT YOUR FUCKING PIC BUT THE FLASH IS ON.

    Y/N: I’M PRETTY SURE SHE SAW THAT IT WAS ME THAT TOOK THE PIC.

With shaking hands, you take another sip of your drink and wait for a reply. Why is life like this.

    Harper: uh.

    Harper: ummm.

    Alex: wait

    Alex: one fucking second

    Y/N: WHY ARE NONE OF YOU CARING ABOUT MY PLIGHT. 

    Y/N: I’M TRYING NOT TO COMBUST ON THE SPOT HERE.

    Alex: shut up for one second

    Alex: harper isnt that

    Harper: uhh. yeah i think so.

    Y/N: WHAT!? WHO IS IT. WHY DOES THAT MATTER AT THIS POINT.

    Alex: lmao i cant believe i have to tell u this

    Alex: bitch do u remember that shit that happened last summer

    Alex: where half the town almost died from that gem shit

    Alex: that’s her     Alex: that’s the bitch who almost killed like, the entire planet

    Harper: you know that night your dad almost died??

As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now. 

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinel su #steven universe #spinel self insert #my fic #devils ballroom

[commorritestreettrash]

Short Story: Death Race (2.3k words) (TAFFY X BIKE)

The engine of Taffy’s Reaver jetbike rang with a single crystal-clear note underneath her, resonating off the Webway wall on her left.

“Shhhhh.” She gently ran her hand over the side of the chassis. “It’s gonna be okay, Hestelvet-va.” The note quieted as she spoke, drawing curious looks from the bikers beside her. She answered them with a devilish, too-wide grin. Best to keep them guessing, even if she still didn’t fully understand the pre-fall tech humming away at the core of her bike.

A voice blared from the pleasure-barge floating above the host of bikers. “Welcome, assorted racers and sacrificial lambs, to the Sky Serpent Invitational! Let me congratulate about half of you on being here. The other half, I invited because I expect you to die amusingly, and you should be feeling like idiots.”

Taffy looked around. It looked like quite a few of the racers were abruptly realizing why they had been invited. She had wondered what that hack Thesalilly had been doing here!

The voice continued. “As you are all presumably aware, I, Duke Traevelliath Sliscus, have a reputation for inscrutability and wicked treachery. Some of you elected not to show up at all because of this, which is why you see the crowd of people affixed to their bikes in the back of the field- be sure to wave! They won’t wave back on account of the nails through their hands, but it’s good form, and nobody wants to die unacknowledged.” The statement was punctuated with a delighted, feminine giggle from someone else near the microphone before Sliscus briefly interrupted his own monologue, voice still blaring out across the Weway. “Mmm. Mind your teeth when you giggle, darling, as cute as it is. And see if you can do something with my balls. Oh, that’s good, damn, you do this to Vraesque daily? Lucky bastard! Where was I? Ah, right.” He clears his throat. “Wicked treachery, that’s where I was! You are all, of course, aware of the tradition of painfully executing the last-place finisher in a death race. However, in my opinion, ‘second place’ just means ‘first loser’! For that reason, I’ll be painfully executing everyone but the winner! I hope you all made resurrection arrangements, because it will be very long and painful, and I’d hate for nobody to see the insane, whimpering wrecks that I will reduce your minds to.”

Sliscus paused for a few heartbeats, allowing a ripple of panicked glances and additional drug injections to ripple out across the assembled racers. Taffy, for her part, slammed home a quick double-dose of Hypex that she had been saving- the good shit, triple-refined.

“With that out of the way- Two laps around the circuit, you’ve all seen it- THREE TWO ONE GO!” He shrieks the last part out at a manic pace, entirely too pleased with himself.

A chorus of whistling bladevane-song rings out as bikes hiss into action, slicing through the still, ancient air of the webway. An instant later, old instincts are overcome by fresh calculus- with all but the winner damned to the torturer’s chamber, shooting someone else down no longer increases the risk of that fatal last-place finish- and a hissing chatter of splinter fire rises as accompaniment.

12-dimensional geometry unfolds in Taffy’s brain like a spiderweb as she plans her movements, barrel rolling through a curtain of splinterfire. A quick cluster-caltrop release clears some spaaaaaace behind her, and she slows slightly, dropping towards the back of the pack. She spots Thesalilly doing the same thing, and glowers- both of them have realized that right now, being in fewer gunsights trumps being in the lead.  Eye-searing bolts of darklight whip silently forward from her bike’s mounted blaster, downing two riders ahead of her who weren’t so quick on the uptake.

She considers the course- a multidimensional knot of webway tunnel, often passing dangerously close to the Warp. A second later, as she rounds a corner, she realizes why Duke Sliscus picked such a place. The walls of this section of Webway are riddled with freshly-cut holes, and out of them blares the awful noise and light of the Empyrean… and as the front off the pack zooms over them, a vast, too-skinny hand, reaches out from one of them and spears a Reaver, pilot and all, on a single one of its talonlike fingernails. Taffy shrieks, pulling back on her bike and angling up, up, for the middle of the webway, the movement away from the holes abruptly mirrored by those around her. The side of her bike scrapes up against another, it’s pilot angling for the same spaaaaaace as her- but her reflexes are quicker and she pulls her knife and plunges it into his throat. His bike veers off to the side, where another grasping, ivory hand snatches it up, flinging it to the side when it finds it’s rider already fallen.

Perhaps a quarter of the riders survive the clawed hands, and the opening brawl. The Webway here is free of holes, but barely-visible monowire is strung haphazardly across it’s breadth. The guns are quieter, now, as riders focus on the delicate side-to-side dance and whirl of eluding slicing death. Taffy still finds the time to take a few potshots at Thesalilly with her splinter pistol, and she replies in turn, but nothing gets close to hitting- they’re just turning and dodging to quick to fire accurately.

The gauntlet of slicing cables abruptly ends, and disintegrator fire shrieks through the air as cackling pirates floating idly in Raiders fire their weapons at the passing racers. The current leader’s sky-blue jetbike takes a hit to it’s darklight reactor, and without even time to scream, both bike and rider are crunched into a tightly-packed ball of torn-up meat and twisted metal.

Taffy’s thighs clench around Hestlevet-va as she rolls to the side, barely eluding disintegrator fire. She shudders, abruptly aware of the shape the course is taking, veering close to the same warp-spaaaaaace as the opening gauntlet. She slips into the center of the tunnel in anticipation- and sure enough, holes again start appearing in the softly glowing walls. Her finger hovers over the nitro-boost on her bike- a modification of her own design that dumps a tank of compressed stellar plasma into her rear thruster, sending her searing forward at the head of a column of superheated gas- but she places her hand back on the handle, deciding against it for the moment. Her present position, in fifth place, a few fractions of a second behind Thesalilly, is fine for the moment. One of the immense daemonic hands reaches out from the wall all at once, striking like a serpent, it’s finger closing around her bike- but a fast twirl sends her bladevanes tearing up the flesh of it’s palm, and it recoils, bright pink blood spattering the Webway.

The course rips on a long, wide curve, back around towards the start- a spaaaaaace for the racers to focus on shooting each other. Taffy gleefully takes the opportunity, firing her blaster at Thesalilly. She rolls out of the way and flips the bird to Taffy, without so much as a backwards glance. FUCK, that was slick. Taffy grinds her teeth, and continues forward, planning how she’ll pull into the lead.

The course rolls onward to lap 2- back to the first gauntlet of grasping hands from the warp. Taffy spins her bike through a hairpin turn and back into the opening gauntlet, ducking a burst of chattering splinter fire from behind her. He’s too close. She does a loop, tight and quick as a noose snapping shut. At the top, as she hangs upside down from her bike, a gentle squeeze of her handle puts a blaster bolt through her pursuer’s engine, sending him careening to his death. She cackles, tasting his anguish even from her bike seat, before zooming off in pursuit of the leaders of the race.

She crosses into the hole-ridden gauntlet of grasping daemons, still no more than a ew seconds from the lead. Just as she nears the end, reaching for her mental map of the monofilament, a hand reaches out to bar her way, and she barrel rolls to the side, slipping past it, juuust catching it’s index finger with her bladevane- and then, a horrifying sound. A loud, screeching noise of metal striking metal. Her bike whips to the side as her bladevane catches on some impossibly-hard bone at the core of the hand’s index finger, and the curve of her bladevane sends her on a whirl, then hurtling into the side of the webway wall with a hard, bone-rattling smack. The delay is withering- at least ten seconds. A dozen riders zoom past her, riding for their lives, as she tries to bring her bike back on course. She feels the blood drain from her face. No. No no no no no. She can’t make up this time deficit.

That’s it. I’m damned. The thought echoes through her head… and then her mental map of the webway floats gently through her head, and a wild, lunatic grin leaps to her face. She whirls her bike around, flying back into the reach of those awful, grasping hands.She pulls aside from one of them, takes a deep breath- and dives right into a hole in the Webway, into the searing light of the Warp.

Chaos surrounds her. She screams a prayer to every god she can think of as she spins her bike, angling down-down-leftup-rightsideways at what she desperately hopes is the right direction- and finds herself staring at the thing that has been helping itself to her fellow riders. Not a host of daemons, but a vast, serpentlike creature. A colossal, gaping, and eyeless mouth sits at one end, the other branching and branching and branching into gods knows how many ivory hands.

And it is looking at her. It’s awful gaze ripples through her soul as she tears across the Warp, focusing all her mental energies on just keeping herself together in this sea of madness. A host of the thing’s hands turn to pursue her, grasping, reaching with sickening speed for something so large. Too much speed. They’re gaining on her, they’re too fast, the fingers are inches from her chassis.

Taffy’s eyes gleam with bloody, animal cunning. She shrieks an importunement to Khaela Mensha Khaine and slams her hand down on the button for her turbo burst. Stellar plasma, once ripped from the Ilmaea, spills out into the warp, burning great holes into the palms of the hands pursuing Taffy. They recoil from her even as she tears forward. Now… she just has to hope she got the direction right. Her fevered mind checks and re-checks itself a dozen times with a talent that hardly a soul outside of the Harlequins or Naviagator possesses, nearly second-guessing itself in the haze of fear and pain as the violent tides of the warp tug at her skin, bone, and soul.

And then, all at once, she’s through, bursting back into the webway through an invisible hole in the Empyrean, spinning round and pulling into the final curve of the track, searing towards Duke Sliscus’s pleasure barge, not merely in front but winning by a nearly unheard of margin.

A delighted, maniacal cackle, backed by thunderous applause, roars out from the barge on seeing Taffy’s lunatic maneuver succeed. She pulls over the finish line and swoops to a landing on the barge, staggering off her bike, mind still reeling from the horrors of the Warp. She nearly falls over, grasping the rail of the barge to save herself, and promptly throws up over the side of it, gasping. A firm hand pats her back, pulling her up and thrusting a goblet into her hand.

“Drink! Trust me, it’ll help.” The voice is firm, but not unkind, and full of raw, unfiltered excitement. Taffy lifts the cup to her lips and drinks, gasping as it passes her lips- it’s full of the rawest soul echo- liquefied suffering- she’s ever had. The drink itself practically quivers with dread, pain, and anguish in its cup. She gulps it down in a heartbeat, her cheeks flushing with black blood, the rejuvenating pain flushing the vile tides of the warp from her soul. Another is thrust into her hand, and she drinks it down before turning to see Duke Sliscus himself holding her up by the shoulder, his face the very picture of lunatic glee.

“Well done! What was your name again?”

Taffy inhales, still shaking with a heady cocktail of pain, trauma, and delight. “T... Taphemela. Taphemela of the Death’s Head Wasps! You can call me Taffy.” She reaches out and firmly shakes his hand, just as Thesalilly whips over the finish line in what she had thought was first place. She lands on the barge, and her eyes bulge as she sees Taffy standing there, right beside the legendary Sky Serpent. Horrible glee rises from Taffy’s throat in a cruel, patronizing laugh as she feels the dismay, terror, and apoplectic rage pour off of her rival.

A blood vessel in her eye burst as she screams at Taffy. “THAT’S FUCKING CHEATING!!!”

A whisper-quiet clack answers her accusation, and she falls over, screaming. Duke Sliscus lowers his splinter pistol with a giggle.

“Of course it was cheating! That was why I loved it!!! Now then, Taffy- to our banquet, and your well deserved prize! Archon Skourna and Archon Malidrach are particularly eager to see you!”

The Duke pulls Taffy about, and the two depart. Taffy has perhaps the best night of her life.

#tw: violence #taffy X bike #Duke Sliscus #Effort Post #OC #writing #short story #reblogs appreciated!

[changbeanie]

runaway ☾ seo changbin

→ genre: mafia au, fluff, angst

→ pairings: reader x changbin

→ word count: 4,871

→ description: A wedding escape mission takes an unexpected twist.

I glanced behind me one last time as I tore train of the dress with my bare hands, hemming it to my mid calf to prevent myself from tripping over it. Rolling the excess fabric into a ball, I tossed it somewhere in the trees. 

Seeing the engagement ring on my finger sickened me, and without hesitation, I slid the band off and threw it in the same direction. I knew that woman wanted to get rid of me as soon as she married my father. However, I didn’t know she was twisted enough to persuade my father into letting me marry a rich, privileged snob who spends half of his life counting the number of bills he has in his safe. Maybe he wouldn’t be so worried if he’d stop spending money at night clubs.

The wedding venue was located in the woods, around twenty five miles away from the city. The sick bastard wanted an extravagant and memorable wedding after two of his wives filed lawsuits against him. 

No doubt, this wedding will definitely be memorable. What’s a wedding without a bride?

I trampled through dead leaves and torn branches scattered across the forest floor, my heels making deep indents in the soil. I pulled the flower accessories out of my hair and removed all of the elastics. Running my fingers through my hair, I proceeded to walk through the woods, attempting to find a highway of some sort. That way I could maybe catch a ride or something.

~

“They’re not gonna find me now,” I mumbled, standing by the side of the highway.

I doubt my stepmother would come looking for me; she wanted me gone in the first place. My father, on the other hand, wanted this marriage. He wanted an alliance with the sick bastard’s company, and since he had me, the smart thing to do was to marry me off.

Not like he’d care about my feelings anyway.

The sun had begun to set, and it displayed a soft ombre of colors in the sky: starting from orange, fading into a yellow, and finally a blue. The temperature had dropped significantly, and the premises of the forest had started to fog, making anything over twenty feet look hazy. 

I rubbed the side of my arms, goosebumps forming from the cold. I felt stinging sensations as my hands came in contact with my cold arms.

“Shit,” I grumbled.

The branches and thorns must have cut me as I was walking through the woods. I should have been more careful.

Hugging my arms, I looked back and forth on the highway, trying to spot a car or a truck of some sort. As if my prayers were answered, a white car flashed its headlights, coming towards my direction. I held my arm out to signal it to stop. To my dismay, the car zoomed pass.

Tsk, how rude. What if I were dying or something?

Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my arms to warm them up.

It’s cold. I should have brought a jacket or something.

Not like I had the time to think about grabbing a jacket. Once I was alone in the dressing room, I climbed out of the window and exited from the back of venue. Luckily, it was all trees, so none of the guests would go roaming in that direction. 

Suddenly, a flash of light blinded me, and there was a black car coming towards my direction. The sky was slowly turning darker and darker by the minute. If I couldn’t catch a ride, I would have the camp out in the woods, and who knows what lurks in the woods at night.

I waved my arm frantically at the car, willing the driver to slow down. The driver showed no signs of braking, so I thought “fuck it”. I needed to leave this place. I clenched my fits tightly and mustered up what was left of my courage.

I sprinted in front of the car.

~

I shut my eyes tightly, bracing myself for the harsh impact that may or may not bring upon my death. I heard and loud shriek of the tires, and the car stopped, inches in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed my tense shoulders, my arms falling to my sides.

I must have seemed insane.

“Are you fucking mad?” the driver stormed out, slamming his door loudly. He looked around my age, and he looked like he belonged to a part of a rebel teenage gang or something. The first thing that caught my attention was the etching in his hair.

Spear B.

I held my hands up in defense, in case he was angry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just jump in front of your car.”

The man squinted and eyed my torn wedding dress and disheveled hair skeptically. “ Okay, explain yourself. What happened to you?”

I pointed towards the direction I came from, “You know there’s a wedding venue back there, right? I ran away from it.”

He scoffed, “How would I know you’re not some type of scammer?” The man rolled his eyes in disbelief, not believing any of my words. 

Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I stepped closer towards him. “Can you please just give me a ride somewhere? To a motel even. Just drop me somewhere I can access the phone, and I’ll send you money for gas as soon as I get to where I need to be.”

“Hmm, sorry. No can do. I have somewhere to get to.” The man crossed his arms and shook his head at me, feigning sympathy. He started to turn around and make his way back into his car, leaving me on the streets.

I grabbed his arm before he could turn around. 

“Please,” I pleaded. I hated asking people for favors. I made eye contact with him, my eyes tearing up in the process. I felt pitiful, and I hated that feeling. However, I was willing to stoop that low to leave this place.

His eyes softened as he started to believe me. “How can I trust that you’re not a part of some rival gang or something?”

So he is part of a gang.

I bit my lip as I thought of an explanation. “I don’t have any tattoos. Gang members usually have it on their arms or something right? Look, I don’t have any.” I held my arms out in front of me, rotating them for him to see.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not a gang member if you think tattoos only go on your arms,” he said, laughing at my obliviousness. I glared at him.

Cuz I wasn’t part of one in the first place, you fool.

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Can you just take me to the nearest place with a phone?”

He motioned towards his car. “Hop in,” he gestured vaguely.

I made a beeline towards the door of the backseat. Yanking it open, I sat down on the leather seats. 

“Why not sit in the passenger’s seat?” The man said as gave me a weird look.

“You’re scary.”

Rolling his eyes, he got in the car. Strapping his seat belt on, he turned around to face me. “My name’s Changbin by the way. What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

~

“So uh, where are you taking me?” I asked him, since the sky was getting pretty dark. The roads were really unfamiliar to me because I had never been to this part of town. 

Changbin glanced up and made eye contact with me through the rear view mirror. “My hood,” he responded, trying to act cool.

It rubbed my hands together nervously. “Yay, a shady gang place. How fun.”

“How do you know whether it’s shady or not? You clearly know nothing about us,” he mocked my ignorance.

I felt attacked. “How am I supposed to know any of this? I lived in the city my entire life.”

Changbin chuckled at my response. “Rich city girl huh?”

“Trust me. I’d much rather be a gang member. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have to marry a creepy old freak.” Honestly, if I had the option to choose, I would definitely choose to be born into a less privileged family. That way, I’d actually have a childhood instead of constantly being faced with the pressures of growing up. 

Changbin grew silent as he focused on driving. I didn’t mind the silence. In fact, I needed it after a hectic day. I leaned my head on the window as Changbin drove through a series of roads, leading us deeper into the woods. My tired eyes lingered on the masses of trees in the forests, and I smoothed out my torn wedding dress. I stared at my reflection in the window.

Wow, I look like shit.

My makeup started to smear, and my hair was tangled in different directions. The dress was now splashed with mud, and my once white heels had scratches all over the lace surface.

“We’re here,” Changbin mumbled as I looked ahead at the tall gate in front of me. 

Behind that gate was a mansion, about three stories tall, and the second story even had a balcony which overlooked the entire lawn. The gates opened automatically, probably controlled my someone inside, and Changbin drove his car into driveway. 

My eyes widened, “This place is wow.” I was speechless as he made a U-turn, swerving around the fountain in the center before parking his car on the side.

“Not so shady now huh?” he said, turning off the engine.

Stepping out of the car, I gaped at my surroundings. This mansion stands in the middle of the woods, gracefully complimenting the mature surroundings. It was almost like it was part of nature, standing still in the placid forest. The walls were a dusty white, which contrasted the grey slate roofs nicely. 

I was in awe. There was no way a gang lived in such an ornate home.

“W-wait, why didn’t you just let me use your cellphone instead of taking me here?” I asked skeptically, hugging my arms closer to my body. 

Changbin motioned me towards the door as he typed in a PIN number. “You think I’m gonna let you use my phone? It’s for strictly business matters, and how would I know whether or not the person you’re calling is secretly a psycho.”

I muttered under my breath, “You’re secretly a psycho.”

He glared at me, but he let me in anyway. “Phone’s to your left. Make yourself comfortable.”

Again, I was in awe. The inside of the mansion was even more beyond my expectations. Right as I walked in the door, a grand staircase with polished wooden rails was displayed right before my own eyes. I shook my head in disbelief. Either I was in a dream, or my initial intuition of mafia gangs were completely twisted.

As if he read my mind, Changbin broke the silence, “Yes, we actually live here, and no, you’re not dreaming.”

Still shaking my head, I walked towards the couch and grabbed the phone, dialing a series of numbers. Placing the phone to my ear, I waited for the person to pick up. Crossing my arms, I admired the living room. To my right, there was a grand fireplace with flames blazing cheerily, sending its warmth for out into the room while casting soft shadows on the walls. 

Changbin slouched on the couch behind me, his arms lazily slung over a pillow as he checked his phone.

“Hello?” the person picked up.

I replied eagerly, “Jeongin! Hey, I need your help! So long story short, my dad f-”

“Wait, wait, why are you calling me with this phone number?” He interrupted my words. Changbin furrowed his brows slightly and leaned forward on his knees, sightly intrigued in the conversation between my cousin and me.

My voice coated in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

I heard rapid footsteps down the stairs, and I saw Changbin’s eyes grow wide as he stood up from the couch.

“Noona, what are you doing here?” Jeongin exclaimed, his phone still close to his ear.

The phone slipped from my hands and fell to the floor with a thud. “Y-you...” 

I swear, this is a dream.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN A MAFIA GANG?”

~

“Explain yourself.” I eyed my younger cousin, who sat across from me on the other couch.

Jeongin’s gaze wavered, “Um, after Auntie passed away, my mom has been kinda in a mess. She lost her only family member left in this world, and your asshole dad remarried right after her death. That took a toll on her.”

My mood darkened. My mom and Jeongin’s mom were close sisters. After my mom passed away, my dad cut all ties with my mom’s side of the family. However, I secretly kept in contact with Jeongin in case he needed anything. 

“My mom lost her job. That’s why for that one period of time, I asked you to send me money.” Jeongin explained, looking at the floor sheepishly.

I frowned, “That doesn’t explain why you joined the gang.”

“I-I felt bad for asking you for money, so I joined SK. Before you start yelling at me, we don’t kill innocent people. We punish those who deserve it, like the corrupted politicians who constantly take money from the poor to benefit themselves. They’re corrupted, Y/n. Chan, the leader, provides a place for my mom to live, and I live here with the gang. We’re like family now,” Jeongin explained to me as I listened to his story attentively.

I smiled sadly, “It was hard for you guys. I’m sorry for not being there.”

My cousin looked at me worriedly. “No, don’t say that. Your dad kept you from us, but what happened to you? How did you meet Changbin?” He glanced between me and Changbin incredulously.

“Well, my asshole dad forced me to marry a creepy old dude, but that’s not the point. My stepmom is a witch, and I’ve been meaning to run away and live with you guys. Today was my ‘wedding’, and I escaped as you can tell from my state.” I pointed at my torn up gown and grimy hair.

Changbin held up his hand. “I’ll take it from here. Y/n jumped in front of my car when I was coming back from my errands. She basically threatened me to take her back here.”

I puffed my cheeks in annoyance. “I DIDN’T THREATEN YOU... I was desperate to get out of there. It was getting cold and dark, plus I just really needed to call Jeongin.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Noona, let’s get you changed, and go take a shower while you’re at it. You’re a mess,” he instructed, shaking his head at my miserable state.

I held my hands out. “I need clothes, and thanks for stating the obvious. Your poor cousin ran in the woods in fucking four inch heels and a floor length gown.”

Jeongin scratched his head awkwardly. “Did you bring anything with you?”

“My soul. Oh, and my ID and other documents.” I tore a hole in my dress and slipped it in as the hairdresser turned around.

My cousin’s mouth turned to an “o-shape”. “I’ll grab you clothes right away, and the bathroom is upstairs to your right.”

“Wait,” I stopped him before he could run off, “Did you get a tattoo on your arm?”

Jeongin looked guilty. “No?” he squeaked.

“I can’t believe you still believe that. You’re hilarious, Y/n.” Changbin chuckled, laughing at my dumb question.

I pointed a finger at Jeongin. “It better not be true or else I’m telling your mom. Now hand me the clothes so I can get out of this wretched thing.”

~

I winced as soon as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyeliner was smeared, my face was grimy with dirt, and my hair was tangled like a lion’s mane.

If I were Changbin, I’d even leave me on the streets.

After indulging in a nice, hot shower, I stepped into Jeongin’s t-shirt and sweatpants that were two sizes too big for me.

When did he get this big? I remember when he was just a tiny bean with chubby little cheeks.

Tossing my ripped dress and torn up shoes in the trash bin, I slipped into a pair of slippers Jeongin gave me and headed out the door. I peeked my head out, afraid that I would spot any gang members besides Changbin and Jeongin. When the coast was clear, I scurried my way to my cousin’s room down the hall.

~

“Hey Noona, are you gonna live with us from now on? I texted Chan, and he said he was fine with it as long as you don’t give our information to any outside sources,” Jeongin said. I was currently sitting in the living room as several members of SK were crowded on the couch opposite of me.

Jisung, another member, clapped his hands wildly. “Yeah, stay with us. It’d be a lot more fun to have a girl living with us.”

Jeongin shoved him off the couch. “Don’t hit on my cousin.”

I laughed at his reaction. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Jisung, you’re not my type sorry.”

My cousin narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t care who your type is, but you’re not going to date any of my members. It’s just...weird. I don’t know, to see my cousin dating these people who know how to kill people with a flick of a finger.”

I blinked slowly at my younger cousin, speechless. “What have you been doing these years? Should I be worried right now that I’m living with a bunch of dangerous people?”

Changbin nudged my shoulder and pointed at the door. “You can leave any second you want. The door is that way.”

“No,” I pouted, “I rather die in your hands than an old creepy freak’s.”

Minho placed his hands on Jisung’s lap. “Hey, where is Y/n going to stay? We still have spare rooms right?”

“Y/n can stay in my room, and I’ll just move in with Changbin. Is that okay with you, hyung?” Jeongin asked the older member of SK.

“Do you snore?” he questioned.

Jeongin shook his head in denial, “No.”

~

I heard footsteps behind me as I stood outside on the balcony.

“Jeongin snores, doesn’t he?” I chuckled.

Changbin scratched his hair sleepily. “Yeah, you could have told me earlier. Why can’t you sleep?”

“New room, foreign place.”

He walked up beside me and leaned on the rail of the balcony, staring off into the dark forest in front of him. Changbin had his hair down, and his bangs covered a bit of his eyes. Instead of the leather jacket he had on earlier, he was wearing pajama pants and a black t-shirt.

I lifted the sleeve of his shirt just a bit as something black caught my eye. “Hey, you do have a tattoo on your arm. You even made fun of me for generalizing how all gang members had tattoos on their arms.”

He stifled his laughter and rolled his eyes at me. “Just because I have one on my arm doesn’t mean all gang members have one on their’s. Like Chan has one on his back, and Seungmin has one on his wrist.”

I ran my fingers softly along the imprint on his bicep. “What does this mean?”

Changbin pulled his sleeve up, showing me the entirety of the tattoo itself. “It’s a wolf, and it embodies the ideas of intelligence and courage. Wolves usually move in packs, protecting one another. That way, this could also be a symbol of a protector or a guide.”

A protector or a guide.

I nodded slowly. “But what’s your story behind it?”

“There are two people in this world who I care the most about: my mom and my sister. We left our dad because he was an abusive person. He would constantly lash out on my mom and my older sister whenever he would come back home drunk. They’ve endured scars for me because they were trying to protect me. Now it’s my turn to protect them after all the hardships they’ve overcome.” Changbin explained to me.

“Is that why you joined SK? To protect your family?”

He glanced over at me, thinking about my question. “I met Chan before SK was established, but in a way, being in a gang really taught me a lot.”

I let out a bitter laugh, “It probably taught you how corrupt the world really is.”

“That, and self defense.”

“I wish my mom had the guts to run away with me like how your mom ran away with both you and your sister,” I confessed as my eyes were fixated on the dark path leading into the forest.

Changbin tried to lighten up the atmosphere. “Hey, how does it feel to be engaged?”

I punched his arm. “It’s disgusting. I guess it’s cute if I were married to the love of my life, but to a creepy stranger who’s twenty years older than me? No way in hell. My finger feels relieved after I’ve taken the ring off.”

“You should have kept it. I bet the rock costs a fortune.” He joked, bumping arms with me.

I looked at him weirdly. “What the fuck, Changbin. You’re sick. You should have seem the nasty look on his face when he handed me the ring. I wanted to deck the shit out of him right there.”

“Why didn’t you? I would have, if I were you.”

I scoffed, “Easy for you to say. I was surrounded by corrupt politicians.”

“Should I kill some of them for you?” he said as he glanced over at me mischievously. 

I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. “Seo Changbin is willing to kill someone for...me?” I uttered, placing emphasis on the word “me”.

“Yeah, I can protect you.”

I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not from the look on his face, but nonetheless, I felt my heart skip a beat when I heard those words come out of his mouth.

~

I walked up to Jeongin and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Noona needs clothes, so take me shopping. I can’t wear your clothes if I want to go out.”

“Why would you need to go out? You have everything here.” He responded smartly. I glared at him, and he shut up immediately.

“I can’t today. I have training with Woojin to practice my sniping.”

I forced a smile and patted his shoulder. “Baby cousin, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just take me tomorrow, or give me money and I’ll go myself.”

Jeongin shook his head, “No, your dad’s men are all out looking for you. I don’t trust you outside by yourself.”

“They are?” I nearly spat out my orange juice.

“Yeah, Hyunjin was in town yesterday, and he spotted some dudes asking if they’ve seen this girl around.”

Changbin walked into the kitchen and ruffled his messy bed hair. He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk to pour into his glass. “What’s all the commotion about? And Jeongin, bullshit. You snore like there’s no tomorrow. I demand my own room.”

The younger boy pouted. “I was tired.”

“Whatever.”

“I want to go get clothes. Not because I want them, but because I need them,” I said, pointing at my over-sized t-shirt and sweat pants. The drawstrings of the sweatpants hung messily in the front, looking very unsophisticated.

Jeongin bat his lashes at Changbin. “Hyung, you’re free right? You did your errands yesterday. Can you take Y/n shopping?”

Changbin placed his glass down on the counter top. “Why me?”

“You’re the only one I trust her with. Plus, your driving skills are second best after Chan’s.”

He pointed over at Jeongin and made a deal, “Fine, but you’re staying with Hyunjin. He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“Deal.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Nope,” Changbin said as he brushed past me.

~

I hung my head low as I peeked through the windows of Changbin’s car. 

What if they see me? Then wouldn’t I be in big trouble? I would drag Jeongin down with me too. I can’t do this to him.

“Y/n, the windows are tinted. People aren’t going to see you, so chill.” Changbin said as he sensed my nervousness. He pulled up to the curve and parked in front of a small boutique.

Changbin leaned closer and craned over me to see if the store was open. I grew nervous at his sudden proximity; my eyes accidentally lingered to his neck, but I glanced away quickly to prevent myself from staring.

“It’s open. Buy what you need, so we can leave as soon as possible.”

~

Changbin grabbed my wrist and ran in the opposite direction, away from my dad’s henchmen. 

“Who decided to get ice cream when we could have left right after I got the clothes?” I panted, trying to catch up with him.

Changbin turned his head around to check back on the men, and they were hot on our trails.

“I didn’t eat breakfast.”

I spat, “We could have been home by now, and I would have made you a damn five course breakfast.”

He chuckled as we turned at street corner. “Shhh, I got this.”

We arrived at a more desolate part of town where the stores were mainly closed and the streets were empty. Changbin dragged me towards an alleyway and told me to wait for him behind a trashcan. I crouched down as he held my shoulders in place.

“Don’t make any noise.” He stood up, getting ready to leave me in the alleyway.

I grabbed his sleeve before he could go. “Where are you going?”

Changbin pointed towards the roof. “I’ll come back to get you. Don’t worry.”

I slowly let go of his sweater and nodded. Changbin gave me a look of reassurance before he hopped onto the lid of the trash bin, hauling himself onto the roof top balcony of the store complex.

This must be one of their hideouts where they kept their weapons.

I remember Jeongin telling me that SK had hideouts all around town; this must have been one of them.

I covered my mouth and held my breath as I saw the approaching shadows of my dad’s henchmen on the opposite wall. I wiggled closer to the trashcan as they grew bigger and bigger. My heart was caught in my throat as I watched the three men drawing their guns from their holsters, raising them in front of their bodies in defense. I bit my lip and covered my ears, waiting for the next events to occur.

“I’m sure they’re in here. I saw them run this way,” the bald one said.

The taller one huffed. “Come out, wherever you are.”

They took an agonizing step closer towards me.

Changbin, where are you? I’m gonna die any second now.

The henchmen were now almost directly in front of the trash bin, a little more the the right, and they would have spotted me. 

Suddenly, I detected a faint clicking noise from above. Seconds later, I heard a gunshot and the bald man closest to me fell the the ground, a pool of blood surrounding his head. 

I gasped and covered my mouth, inching as far away from the blood as possible.

I heard the clicking noise again, and this time the man next to him was shot in the chest. His blood splashed on the brick walls behind him right before he fell to the ground. 

One more.

This time, I closed my eyes, and I heard the soft clicking sound followed by a gun shot. My sense of hearing was heightened, and I heard the last henchman fall somewhere to my left, his gun making a clang as it fell out of his grasp, hitting the concrete.

Still shutting my eyes, I heard Changbin jump down from the roof, landing on the trash bin before he handed on the ground. He quickly knelt beside me and covered my eyes with his hand.

“Yeah, you don’t want to see this,” he whispered.

He helped me stand up, a hand on my waist supporting me. 

“H-how did you just do that?” I stuttered from fright.

“With a sniper?”

I panicked as I flailed around hands around gripping onto his shirt. “You guys are teaching Jeongin this? My baby cousin?”

Changbin maneuvered me around the dead bodies carefully. “He’s not a baby anymore Y/n.”

I flung his hand off my face. “Yes he is! To me he is.” 

I held my hand up to my heart to calm my rapid heartbeat. “I can’t believe you killed them. With your knowledge of the town, we could have hid from them or something.”

Changbin locked eyes with me; his face grew serious.

“I said I would protect you, and I did. I wasn’t kidding last night.”

Way to calm my heartbeat, Changbin.

#straykidznet #neweraboygroups #sk-writersnet #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #stray kids oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #stray kids changbin #changbin #seo changbin #stray kids changbin scenarios #changbin scenarios #seo changbin scenarios #stray kids fluff #fluff #mafia au #mine #changbeanie #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

[cancerianprincess]

Birkin Bag (4)

|Part Three|

Summary: Erik finds out he might’ve rubbed off on his best friend a tad too much and that she’s really with the shits

Warning: Language, Angst, Kidnap Mention(s), Violence

A/N: I apologize for this taking so long (because whew chile....life) but other than that...I hope you guys are still with this series especially after this part because y’all just might hate me afterwards and that you enjoy 🙂🙃🙂🙃

~~~~

“I bought my bitch a Birkin Bag so she could hold my fucking strap..”

____

The silence that hung in the air was so excruciatingly thick, even a chainsaw would’ve had trouble slicing through it had it been a tangible object. It had been that way the entire ride back into the city, and remained like that even as you currently sat on the floor of your master bathroom, tending to Erik’s wounds. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him, it was more of a matter of figuring out how you would go about navigating the debrief between you and your best friend.

Because, okay sure, you had gotten Erik out of the warehouse alive. And yeah, you showed that bootleg goon squad that you and yours were not to be fucked with. But at what cost did all those victories come with if it meant the strongest person you knew, appeared to be steadily unraveling right before your very eyes?

*******

“Nigga I thought I asked you a question.” Every word spoken was drenched in venom when an explanation for Trey’s presence wasn’t provided, causing a slight twitch in his smug demeanor, but not enough to allude to any sort of surrender.

“C’mon shawty don’t act like that. It’s been what…?” A beat. “Almost a year since I last saw you, and this the ‘hey’ I get?” The defeated shake of his head contradicted the dastardly chuckle that emitted lowly from his throat, rolling altogether to only make the taunting worse.

“Yeah, fucking ten months too soon,” you spat.

*******

Alright, so cue the record scratch. You and Trey hadn’t exactly ‘dated’, so technically he wasn’t your ex-boyfriend, but there was undoubtedly, and unfortunately, some history amongst the two of you. In all honesty, Trey was just some dude you had been smashing a while back and was tolerable enough to keep around from time to time. Though given the stunt he was presently pulling would make one think you and him had some Will-and-Jada type of love going on at one point.

Nevertheless though, neither a title or lackthereof had stopped the demented reject from being any less problematic, obviously given the situation at hand. Nor had it stopped you from bringing down Hell on Earth on him and his psychotic ass sidekick in order to rescue Erik from their clutches.

*******

Once you were positive you’d seen Jay take his last breath, you finally felt like you could release the one you’d been holding for the last two and a half days. The second you were sure that all signs of an immediate threat were gone, you practically tripped over your own two feet racing back to Erik. The distance between you and him seemed endless, almost mimicking those dramatic slow-mo scenes often seen in movies.

Zooming past Tracee’s motionless body sprawled across the cinder block floor, you reached Erik at last after what felt like centuries apart.

“Erik!?” you exclaimed trying to lull him from the comatose state he was in. “E, c’mon we gotta go, alright?? We gotta get you out of here, before he comes back, okay? Stevens, c’mon we gotta go, NOW!”

But whatever the reason, Erik seemed deaf to every word that left your lips. You ceased momentarily in your moderate slaps and shaking of trying to get his attention to cut Erik out the ropes that still had him bound to the chair. Once the last of the material gave way, the prince nearly fell to the floor instead of holding himself up, causing you to catch him just in the nick of time.

“Erik?! E, answer me! C’mon, N’Jadaka, pleaseee!”

Nothing was working, however. The broken man continued to stare straight through you with glossed over eyes as if you weren’t on your knees right in front of him, begging frantically for him to come back to reality.

For him to come back to you.

The very last attempt you gave was more for your benefit than Erik’s, and completely of the rhetorical nature. Cupping one side of his face, you searched for any readable sign that he couldn’t give verbally. With tears pooling in your eyes, you muttered softly in a voice beginning to crack with emotion, “Erik, baby...what did they do to you?”

Head dropping in defeat, you were about a millisecond away from throwing in the towel and opting to drag Erik out of the building by his shoulders-you were just that desperate. That was, until you felt a nudge against the palm of your hand.

“N-Niya?”

Erik had awoken from the self-induced trance and folded into your touch. Your gaze shot up at the sound of your dearest friend’s voice, and instantly came face-to-face with the sight of him finally peering at you rather than through you. A wave mixed of shock and relief briefly washed over you as you engulfed him in what might have qualified as the tightest bear hug in all of history.

If it wasn’t for him issuing a groggy “what’re you doing here”, you probably would’ve stayed wrapped around Erik forever over getting back to the mission at hand. Assisting him to his feet, you hoisted Erik up and draped one of his arms across your shoulders to support him as you guided both him and yourself out of the warehouse and towards the safety of your car.

*******

Erik flinched from the sting of the peroxide being applied to the cuts on his face, causing your focus to come back to the task. Your mind had gone into overdrive thinking about all that had just ensued, specifically what caused Erik to come back to his senses at the precise moment he did. Granted, it could’ve been the tender touch to his cheek and never before used pet name but I digress.

“Sorry,” you offered softly for being careless with his injuries.

Erik said nothing. He merely cut a glance your way prompting you that it was fine. But you felt otherwise. How was any factor of this situation fine, despite how big or small it was? The answer was simple: it wasn’t. As your former boy toy, Trey had been your responsibility, meaning that all of this was your fault.

Which is exactly why your mouth inadvertently started inducing an uncontrollable word vomit before your brain even knew what was happening.

“Erik, I am...so,so sorry,” you let out in a stifled sob. “F-For everything. For all of this. All of this is my fault. All that phony mess Trey was droning on about w-with you and Lynda, I should’ve known his ass was crazy. Even before then, when I started fucking with him I s-should’ve cut him off right after that. As soon as I realized he was je-”

The end of your sentence got snagged in your throat, causing Erik’s gaze to whip wildly to yours, searching your face with an expectant expression. Still, you caught and corrected yourself, quickly amending the broken statement. Before letting the thought get too far out in the open, you went on rambling so the subject didn’t have the opportunity to be tossed up for a separate debate.

“-as soon as I realized he had some real issues,” you went on. “I’m the one to blame for this happening to you. Them stalking you, snatching you from your place, abusing you; if you never became my best friend, none of this would be happe-”

“Aniya, stop it.”

Erik’s voice boomed off the bathroom walls more forcefully than he’d intended it to be, but either way he was successful in silencing you. He could tell by your long-winded spiel that you were you trying to act like the fluke in your words never transpired, and was willing to let it slide. But the minute you even suggested that his and your friendship had been the casualty among all this, he had to draw the line. He refused to let you believe you had to bear the burden of sins that weren’t yours. Sins from that had sprouted from his past.

“Listen,” he began. “Quit blaming yourself for what went down, alright? This was all on me, not you.”

“Erik, what? Cut it out,” you snipped at him, frustrated that he wasn’t allowing you take the responsibility that was supposedly yours. Dousing another cotton ball in the medical liquid, you made to resume caring for his contusions. “You weren’t the one sleeping with the nigga,” your voice gradually trailing off.

“Yeah?” Erik retorted bitterly. “Well you weren’t the one who murdered the woman carrying your unborn child.”

The words spoken made your whole body lurch to a halt. Your hand hung frozen, leaving the cotton ball suspended in mid-air. As many times as they had echoed in your skull in the short span of time, they just didn’t seem to register properly, the shock was that great. And it became increasingly evident that there was no lie told in what was said, given away by the rigid line Erik’s jaw had set into immediately after revealing what might have been his darkest secret to date.

Convinced it would never subside on its own, you eventually willed yourself to speak to be certain there was no mistake in what you heard.

But it only seemed to get worse when Erik affirmed it, through clenched teeth and staring straight ahead, by saying, “Lynda...she was two months pregnant when I shot her.”

~~~~

|Part Five|

~Taglist~

@iamrheaspeaks @princesskillmonger @eriknutinthispoosy @wheredidallthedreamersgo @sonofnjobu @bidibidibombaclaat @turn-thy-paige @theunsweetenedtruth @chaneajoyyy @madamslayyy @mareethequeen @marvelpotterlove @ayellepea @another-imaginesblog @pandigirl11 @tiava143 @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @allhailnjadaka @muse-of-mbaku @okoyesbabe @purple-apricots @youreadthatright @eriks-girl @erikslulbaby @amethyst1993 @wakanda-inspired @halcyonscry @laketaj24 @bartierbakarimobisson @pandigirl11

#erik x reader #erik killmonger fic #black panther #birkin bag #u guessed it #mini series #cancerianpricess #wakanda #Erik Stevens #erik x aniya #redeemed!erik #erik killmonger #N’Jadaka

[sceawere]

fairground feats | ben ‘dex’ poindexter

dex struggles with dating, but man can he yeet

“You didn’t have to do this, Dex” you reminded him as you strolled under the glimmering lights together. Well, you strolled. Dex patrolled. The two of you, hand in hand, winding between the crowds of screeching kids and giggling teenagers.

The former zoomed around you, hopped up on the half-eaten bags of candy floss gripped in their sticky little hands. The latter seemed to roam in packs, oblivious of their own fluid borders, and you had to veer this way and that a few times as they hurried passed.

Neither were amusing your boyfriend much, and he oscillated between death stares, and heavy sighs.  

“I promised I would,” he replied, eyeing a particularly raucous crowd that caused you to guide him to the right once more. You tucked into his side, the grip on his hand increasing, and you moved your free hand up to grip his arm through his jacket.

“Down, boy” you half soothed, half teased, winking as he pulled his eyes back from over your shoulder. “And, uh…to be honest, I assumed you were just joking, or winding me up or…”

You finished it with a shrug as you slowed your pace.

“Why?” he stalled as you pushed up onto your toes, trying to peer up over the crowds. You lifted your hand up to grip his shoulder and push up onto the very extreme of your toes, gaining that extra inch that helped you spy the line for the Ferris wheel. Too long. Damn it.

“Because, this is so not you! When I mentioned the fair, I wasn’t honestly suggesting we come together,” you explained, and he watched carefully as you dropped your feet back to the ground, sliding your hand down his chest. It was your turn to question as you caught his considering gaze. “What?”

“What isn’t me?” he questioned, and you tilted your head.

“Special Agent Benjamin Poindexter, very serious Fed Man and notorious grumpy-old-guy-before-his-time is frowning in front of a very cheerful balloon stand,” you nodded towards the cloud of glittering Mylar hovering above you, “because funfairs are not his thing.”

He followed your pointed gaze as it bore into a grinning monkey emoji inflatable. He let his head loll back a little, and his frown dissolved as he took a deep swallow. An acerbic smile grew on his face, and you licked at your lips, your own grin growing. You released the grip on his hand and slid your hand back up his chest to rest your palms over his shoulder. He crossed his arms, and you rested your chin against your knuckles as you waited for him to speak.

“Ok. Point taken. I just…”

“You were trying to be normal again.” you droned, and he sighed, opening his mouth to protest when you cut him off. “I hate when you try to be normal, Dex.”

“I wasn’t trying to be normal,” he spat the words out as sarcastically as you had, “I was trying to make you happy. You deserve it.”

You took a big breath, and exhaled deeply, with a little hum in it.

“That’s adorable.” You nodded, smiling at his eye roll, and enjoying the grin that spread across his face as you pushed up onto your toes once more and lay a kiss onto his cheekbone. “And I truly appreciate the effort. But you know what else makes me happy? Eating Chinese food half naked in your apartment makes me happy. We could have done that!”

Dex flexed his jaw, still staring straight ahead as you grinned.

“We always do that. It’s not special.” He argued. You replied with a vague throat noise, beginning to bounce on your toes a little.

Trying to look cute was a mistake. Date night or no, the floaty skirt and ballet flats combo you were sporting in late Autumn/early Winter was a silly choice and you regretted it currently. Probably weren’t going to regret it later when Dex inevitably got bored of behaving and slipped his hand up the back of your thigh to warm you up, but…for now…regret.

“Well, I like it! And that makes it special to me, mister.” You defended, but his expression remained unchanged, even when he turned his head to stare you down. “I like it, Dex. I like that we’re not fussy. I don’t need fussy. Ok? I like that I don’t have to pretend to be all…fussy. I can just…be…around you.

That’s enough for me. I know it’s enough for you. So why are we trying to do other people’s relationships? Hmm?”

He slid his gaze away, and you pinched his chin tilting it back.

“This is because of Zywicki’s stupid book report, isn’t it?” you probed. “Listen, just because he reads one bullshit newlywed try hard book and goes on about it at lunch, does not mean you suddenly have to go all Notebook on me, ok? I mean, I never actually paid attention to that movie, but I know its romantic stuff and I assume there are- regardless!

Listen, I also heard him talk about how you’re supposed to compromise and do nice things for each other and all of that. Ok? We do all that. We’re good. You do not need to prove yourself to me by doing things that make you unhappy. That’s not making this relationship better, babe. The whole surprise date, keep things fresh stuff…that’s right for them. That’s not us. We’re…eat Chinese food in the bath kind of people.”

“When the hell have we eaten- “

“We haven’t. We haven’t. It’s something to try maybe, alright? If we’re going to spice things up, why not start there, I ask?” you bent a brow, and he shook his head.

“I don’t want you to think I’m…not trying, or…I’m not…good…at this” he crossed his arms again, adjusting his whole body, a physical manifestation of his discomfort with the topic at hand.

“Dex, I’m not going anywhere,” You insisted. “Nowhere. Unless the line for the Ferris wheel dwindles significantly, and then I’m out of here.”

He didn’t laugh, but his cheek did pull up a little, and you softened.

“I know you try. All the time. I don’t need grand displays of affection. I know every day you’re there that you love me. And I like that you don’t demand anything of me, you know? We understand each other. That’s us.”

He unfolded his arms, dropping them to shove his hands into his pockets, until he opened the palm closest to you at the last second. You stepped back, delving your grip into his, and folded your fingers together.

“You know what you could do though? To prove your unending affection?” you probed.

“You want the monkey?” he asked, staring straight ahead again, mask back in place.

“I’m seriously considering it. But it is a wise investment? I think perhaps not.” You zoned out, staring deep into the eyes of the cartoon monkey as it swayed back and forth above your heads. “Oh!”

You exclaimed as Dex started moving, pulling you along with him as he surged forward. You laughed as you saw the stand he was stalking towards, beaming as he turned with a grin to wink over his shoulder at you.

“NO! Benjamin, that is cheating,” you increased your pace, so you were beside him, pulling up to hold your palm against the side of his throat as he continued guiding you towards the shooting booth. You lowered your voice, “You’re a fucking sniper!”

“Yeah, well. These things are all rigged anyway. So, if anything, I’m evening up the odds” his grin was sinful, and you pushed your tongue into the corner of your lips, staring him down.

“No.” You insisted, the two of you at a smirking standoff. You stayed how you were, hung off his side, his arm delving around your waist, fingers gripping tight against your ribs. You gasped into his touch, rolling your body that important inch closer. “That.”

You dropped your eyes to across the way, and he followed, scoffing.

“How is that any different?”

“Because,” you unwrapped yourself from him, grabbing each of his hands in yours, and walked backwards to lead him towards the stand, “I’ve seen you shoot a hundred times, and while it certainly does do it for me, Sir- “

His grin quirked, and you turned to walk beside him once more.

“I want to see you chuck a bean bag at a cup. Now that’s how you get the girl.” you joked.

“Aim is aim. This is easy.” He complained, and you hummed.

“I can throw a pretty good paper ball into the trash can – I’m not starting for the Lakers”.

“This is easy.” He repeated, more insistent.

“Well, firstly, get on with it then. Secondly, there’s a difference between pointing a gun in the right place and having the bullet follow the line-I know it’s not that easy and, listen, don’t give me that look! But you know, making your arm throw it in the right place, that’s a succession of skills, that I want to see you perform. So, perform for me, big boy” you teased, leaning against the support beam at the side of the stand.

Dex hovered in front of it, eyeing only you, with a wicked glint in his eye.

“I played baseball as a kid. Well.” He bragged, and you shrugged.

“Prove it.” you mouthed.

He dragged his eyes away from you, shouldering his jacket off. Your grin widened as you reached out to take it from him. He threw down a note from his pocket and nodded to the guy staffing the stand, who passed him the bags, and gave a quick run down of what each colour cone got him.

You rolled to rest your shoulder against the beam, eyes flicking between the display and your boyfriend.

He tested the weight in his hand. Surveyed the target. Took a quick breath.

And then he whipped his arm back and snapped it back across his body. The first target fell before you could whip your head towards it, and your brows flew up.

“Oh.” you breathed, about to make a comment, when the second cone fell. You snapped back to Dex, watching as he flung shot after shot, and then finally stepped back.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed, and he dissolved from the sure-fire expression he had into a softer, unsure expression. “That was incredible!”

You pushed away from the stand, jumping up into his arms. He chuckled, and you planted a big kiss on his cheekbone, your usual spot to adorn with your affection. He spun you around, hands rolling up and down your arms.

“Pick something out.” He instructed, breath fanning over your ear, your throat. You bent your neck just slightly, reluctant as you stepped forward to rest your palms against the counter and survey the options.

There were ridiculously oversized teddy bears hanging from the underside of the ceiling, sickly neon coloured hunks of fluff, and you debated which one to get. You lifted your free hand, the other still had Dex’s jacket looped around it, bunched up over your forearm, and pointed towards one in a particularly offensive shade. You hooked your finger over your smiling lips as the guy turned to fetch a stool and jumped up to mess with the ties keeping it in place.

You were so focused on watching him work with a tough knot, still marvelling at the scattered cones, that you didn’t feel Dex’s hand until it was already up under your skirt. He leaned his hip up against the side of the counter, his hand shaded by his jacket lumped up against your own hip and ghosted the pads of his fingers against the side of your thigh.

You licked at your lips, tongue pushing into the side of your teeth, and you refused to allow him the win of your gaze. His smirk grew in your periphery, spurred on by your defiance. His fingers trailed just a tad higher, and his thumb joined to grip over the span of your thigh.

You relented as the guy finally freed your prize, pushing away from the counter, and gripping Dex’s hand in yours. You tore it away from your thigh, shooting him a look as he brought his other hand over to lift his jacket. He stepped around to rest it over your shoulders as the man returned with your prize.

You had to hand the bear to Dex in order to shrug into his jacket properly, arms wiggling and waving in the too long sleeves.

“I love this jacket,” you gushed, gathering it up around you, the shearling lining soft to your body as the denim exterior scratched at your jaw.  “Oh, it’s so fluffy and it smells like you and I love it!”

He shook his head as you reached for the bear again, filing the sight of him holding the giant fluffy mess away in your mind, but his grin was locked onto his face as you re-joined hands. You tucked the bear up under your arm, snug against your side, and it stretched down the length of your body to bop against your knee as you walked.

“We didn’t go on the Ferris.” He said, and you hummed as he led you back to the car.

“Oh, no, I don’t really like them. I just wanted to smooch ya.” You broke into laughter, and he shook his head at you for the fifteenth time that night.

#daredevil #daredevil fic #|writing #benjamin poindexter #i write for this guy now bc should i love him? no. do i? undoubtedly. #anyway i've read everything mvtthewmurdvck has written for him 12x over and needed MORE #so i wrote the this thing you see here before you #seriously thought their dex stuff it's the good shit

[keichanz]

You Rescued Me: Chapter 2

For some reason, tumblr is bunching italicized words together after I paste it onto here from Word, so if you happen to spot one, lemme know. I tried to catch and fix them all, but I can’t be sure.

A note about Inuyasha: When I first started this story, I had a very clear image of how I wanted this AU’s version of Inuyasha to be; I wanted him to be rough and gruff, but someone who exudes a quiet strength that Kagome is easily able to recognize. He’s someone who’s used to hard work, getting his hands dirty, and yeah he’s seen some shit, but you’ll learn about that later.  I wanted an element of mystery, but someone still approachable. I wanted to go for a “I’m lonely, but I don’t want to be” sort of vibe and I hope I managed to pull that off. See where I’m going with this? Lol.

Yes, he does smoke in this story. I apologize if you don’t like that, but it’s part of the image I wanted to portray, and you’ll learn why he does in a later chapter.  I suppose in short I wanted a rough ‘n’ tumble type, but gentle when it truly matters. On the outside, he looks mean, and scary and unapproachable. On the inside though, he’s a big softie who likes to protect those weaker than him, loves his niece, is a closet comedian, and has a secret love affair with bacon. So don’t worry; I still kept some aspects of the dogboy we all know and love. I wouldn’t change him completely, of course! :)

I really hope how I portray him doesn’t dissuade some people form reading, because even though I did say I hate this fic (okay so that was a boldfaced lie lmao) I am really, really proud of how this story turned out, and I’ve been working on this for literal months now.

If it turns out that my Inuyasha is not your cup of tea, that’s fine. But I do hope you’ll give him a chance. :)

The interior design/decor of Inuyasha’s house was loosely inspired by the Bartlett ranch house in the show Heartland. (I love that show and I’m addicted to it ;adjfa;dfahdfal)

Read on AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Epilogue 

The ten-minute ride to his house was quiet and uneventful but he didn’t care, and he suspected his guest didn’t either. She had her head leaned against the door and her eyes closed as the wind caressed her face and played with the stands of ebony hair that hung down and for the first time Inuyasha wondered how old she was. Now that he was closer, he could deduce she couldn’t be much older than him, perhaps a few years younger, even. The stress of the night, however, made her look much older and abruptly he found himself wanting to deck the motherfucker who had put those bruises on her. How dare he hurt such a beautiful, fragile creature? Women were supposed to be treasured, cherished, and protected, not used for fucking punching bags. Without them, literally nobody would be alive on this godforsaken planet and he had the fucking balls to—

Abruptly Inuyasha realized he was growling and instantly he cut the sound off with guilty wince, flicking his eyes over to the woman beside him. She was staring at him in alarm, her eyes wide and he couldn’t help but notice how she’d shrunk against the door in an effort to put some distance between them.

Aw, shit. He’d gone and done the one thing he vowed that he wouldn’t do and now he felt like absolute shit. “Sorry,” he muttered and focused ahead once again, his hands tight on the wheel. “It wasn’t…” He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t because of you. I was just—” He stopped himself before he could finish and clamped his jaw shut, not sure it would be a good idea to admit what he’d been thinking and bring up horrible memories for her.

But then, taking him by surprise, she gradually relaxed again and gave him an expectant look, head tilted curiously to the side, so he obliged her. Slanting her a cautious look, he flicked his finished cigarette out the window and rumbled, “I was just thinking how about much I’d like to deck the asshole that did that to you.”

Surprise flared in her eyes as her hand came up to flutter over the bruise on her jaw and over her neck. Then her eyes dimmed, she turned away and Inuyasha mentally cursed.

Clenching his jaw in anger aimed at himself, Inuyasha flicked his blinker on and hung a right onto a considerably smoother road. A minute later he slowed down and turned left into his dirt driveway that led up a slight incline to his two-story ranch house. He’d bought it solely because he had no neighbors for miles and it was isolated and set back from the road, even though there was minimal traffic this far out in the country.

As he pulled up to the wraparound front porch, Jaxson lifted his head and started wagging his tail from his location sprawled on the porch before the steps. He heard a soft gasp as he put the truck in park and cut the engine and a glance told him his impromptu houseguest had spotted the large dog and the look of delight that lit her face had him briefly spellbound.

Then Jax released a happy bark and whatever trance Inuyasha had been in was broken. Glad that his dog wouldn’t pose as a problem for the skittish woman, Inuyasha opened his door and hopped out, not really surprised when she lingered in the cab and simply stared out the window as he made his way over to greet the wolf-like canine.

Despite his size, Jaxson still acted like a puppy whenever he came home and he was all excited energy, tail whipping back and forth ferociously, standing up on his hind legs as he knelt down and then barraging his face with a thousand licks of hi, dad. Inuyasha took it all without complaint, rubbing his sides vigorously and scratching the pointed ears similar to his own. He slid his gaze to the side, looked into the cab of his truck and as if that was what she was waiting for, his guest finally exited and made her way slowly over to them.

Excited at the opportunity to make a new friend, Jaxson predictably left his side and trotted on over to her, all happy panting, wagging tail and lolling tongue as he nudged her hand with his big nose for pets. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat and knelt down to give the big dog some lovins.

Watching from the porch, Inuyasha saw her smile for the first time and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. Her caramel eyes, before looking so dim and lifeless, were bright with amusement and affection as Jax licked her face and the sound of her soft laughter was the sweetest melody.

Realizing he was staring, Inuyasha shook himself out of it and brushed past the pair to retrieve her bag from the floor of the cab. He frowned at how light it was but didn’t comment as he shut the door and went to crouch beside them, extending his hand to scratch behind the dog’s ears. Jax gave his hand a lick then continued snuffling and nosing his new friend, eager for more attention. “This is Jaxson,” he murmured and said dog’s ears perked up at the sound of his name. “He’s a big fluffy idiot, has a habit of stealing my bacon when I’m not looking, and likes to pester Rain until she gets sick of it and chases him around.” He gave his dog a pointed stare.

Jax barked at him and wagged his tail.

While Inuyasha just looked deadpan, his female guest giggled again and softly asked, “Rain?”

A little startled to hear her voice for the first time, Inuyasha blinked and stared at her but recovered quickly. He shook his head and rumbled, “Tomorrow.” He didn’t think she was up for a tour at the moment, not when she looked dead on her feet and like she could sleep for the next week. He stood up, slung the strap of her bag over his shoulder and offered her a hand without thinking. Before he could retract it, though, she surprised him for what seemed like the nth time that night and grabbed it without hesitation and instinctively he hauled her up with no effort at all.

Jax darted ahead of them and zoomed up the stairs to wait at the door and she spoke up again. “What breed is he?”

Inuyasha decided that he liked her voice and doubly liked the fact that she was feeling comfortable enough to talk to him. “Native American Indian,” he replied and opened the front door, stepping into the open mudroom that led directly into his kitchen as Jaxson zoomed off to god knows where. The soft glow coming from the stove light he’d left on provided just enough illumination for her to see by as he ushered her in then closed the door behind her. Then he paused, shot her a speculative look, and with deliberate movements Inuyasha slid the deadbolt home and twisted the lock on the knob.

The look she gave him spoke volumes of her gratitude and he nodded in reply. Jax took that moment to come skidding back into the kitchen with one of his well-loved toys in his mouth and promptly sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor, placing his toy right between his paws before tilting his head and looking the very picture of A Good Boy.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered. With the dim lighting from the stove, she could make out the gray and white shades with some scattered brown of his long fur and it was truly striking just how much the canine resembled that of his wilder ancestor.

Inuyasha snorted. “Yeah, you wouldn’t be saying that after seeing how much he goddamn sheds,” he muttered more to himself than her but judging by the badly stifled snicker, she’d heard anyway.

His dog started using the “look at me, I’m cute” card and used to his dog’s shenanigans, he ignored him and focused his attention back on his lovely houseguest. While clearly still recovering from this nightmare of a night, she was a bit more relaxed now as she glanced curiously around his home, however that could be because of the bone-deep weariness he sensed in her, all of the stress starting to really take its toll and he didn’t even need his nose to tell him she was completely exhausted.

Still, before he took her upstairs, he needed to make sure she was taken care of in all aspects. “Hungry? Anything to drink?”

She shook her head, hesitated, then shook it again and avoided his eyes.

Inuyasha studied her silently for a moment then nodded. “Alright.” Despite her answer, though, he still ventured over to the fridge, grabbed a bottled water and took a few sips for himself before gesturing for her to follow and crossed the hardwood floor into the living room. Tomorrow he’d show her around, that is if she wanted, but for now he figured it’d be best if he showed her where she’d be sleeping. The shuffle of soft moccasins told him she was right behind so he hung a left and headed for the stairs, nearly getting knocked over by Jaxson as he bounded ahead of them and raced down the hall.

He gave her the guest bedroom that was right next to his. “Make yourself at home,” he said as he went forward and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand. Jax zipped in and jumped onto the bed. “I wasn’t talking to you, Fluff,” he deadpanned as the canine circled a few times in his nightly routine for sleep and was rewarded by a quite laugh and his dog’s soft whuff.

Shaking his head, he deposited her bag on the bed and discreetly set the bottle of water on the nightstand. “Bathroom’s right across the hall. Feel free to take a shower, or whatever. If you get hungry, help yourself to anything in the kitchen, I don’t care.”

Inuyasha watched as she sank down onto the bed and a second later Jaxson’s head plopped down onto her thigh. Her smile was small and tired but genuine as she stroked the dog’s head fondly and Inuyasha wondered when the hell his dog had become such a ladies man. Er, dog. The only other person he could think of that he’d taken to so quickly was his mother. Not that he was complaining, of course; if Jax’s company eased even a fraction of her distress, he supposed he could deal with his loyal companion of eight years forgetting that he existed.

He inwardly snorted then said, “Jax,” and knelt down as without hesitation the large dog hopped down and loped over to him. Scratching behind his pointed ears and around his neck, Inuyasha told his dog, “Keep an eye on her for me, alright? I’m counting on you to protect her.”

Jaxson blinked at him and then leaned forward to lick his chin.

A ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Good boy,” Inuyasha murmured and with a final scratch to his dog’s chin, he stood up. Jaxson returned to the bed and made himself comfortable, stretching out with a gusty sigh and going still.

Inuyasha turned amber eyes her way and locked with caramel depths. He opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed. “Goodnight,” he murmured and turned to leave.

“W-wait? …Please.”

Inuyasha stopped and turned back around, his face blank, but not unfriendly as he gazed expectantly at her with his hands in his pockets.

She was staring at him and biting down on her lip, looking a little uncertain and once more surprising himself, Inuyasha waited patiently for whatever she had to say. But it wasn’t long at all until she seemed to steel herself and hesitantly ask, “…What’s your name?”

Inuyasha considered her quietly with no change in his expression before answering simply, “Inuyasha.”

She fell quiet and although Inuyasha was curious, he didn’t ask for her name in return. He figured she’d tell him in her own time, when she was ready to stop being anonymous.

“Inuyasha,” she murmured so quietly he almost didn’t hear her and his ears trained forward under his hat to catch her soft voice. When she locked eyes with him again, they were wide, misty and the breath caught in his throat at the utter trust he found swimming in those cinnamon depths. “Thank you.” The smile she offered him wavered as she tried to keep her emotions in check and just like that Inuyasha’s emotionless façade cracked.

His face softened and honeyed eyes grew warm as he gazed at her then with a sigh, Inuyasha took off his hat and ran a hand through his short choppy hair, amazed at this little slip of a woman’s strength. “If you need anything,” he began, voice a little gruff but no less sincere, “I’m right next door.”

Inuyasha didn’t say anything more than that but he didn’t need to; his lovely guest nodded, closed her eyes as her shoulders started to shake and he took that as his cue to leave. The door closed with a soft click and Inuyasha forced himself to walk away as the sound of muffled sobs reached his ears and went straight to his aching heart.

Kagome woke up to a dry mouth, a pounding head, and the sound of somebody snoring softly beside her.

It was the last one that caused Kagome to jolt upright with a choked cry and scramble off the bed as fast as she could, nearly tumbling to the floor in her haste to get away. She spun around and threw her hands up without thinking, prepared to defend herself—

Only to be met with the lazy stare of a large and familiar furry dog that was lying comfortably on her bed. He blinked at her before stretching his jaw in a wide, tongue-curling yawn and that was when Kagome remembered where she was and what had happened last night.

The relief was so great she sank to the floor, her legs unable to support her and she closed her eyes as a soft whimper escaped her mouth. She pressed a hand to lips and took a shuddering breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, and then nearly screamed again when something cold nudged her cheek. Her eyes flew open to find her bedmate sitting in front of her and giving her the equivalent of a doggy smile, tongue lolling and tail wagging back and forth.

Kagome issued a watery laugh and wrapped her arms around the gray and white dog, burying her face in his soft fur. “Thank you, Jax,” she whispered, recalling how he’d patiently let her cry into his neck last night and basically use him as her own personal snuggle buddy. She received a fond lick on her cheek in response and she gave another husky chuckle before leaning back and kissing his snout. “Good boy.”

Evidently recognizing those two words, Jax tossed his head and danced around, wagging his tail and giving a few soft barks before suddenly freezing and staring at her raptly, as if waiting for more praise.

Kagome laughed genuinely that time and framed his doggy face in her hands. “Such a good boy!”

A loud, pleased bark echoed off the walls and Kagome watched in amusement as Jaxson spun around in circles before abruptly taking off faster than a bullet, zooming out of her room through the cracked door and disappearing down the stairs.

Shaking her head, but not without a smile, Kagome wiped at her damp eyes then heaved herself back onto the bed. Unfortunately the movement reminded her of the pounding headache currently ricocheting in her skull and she winced, bringing a hand up to rub her forehead. Wrinkling her nose at the cotton-like texture in her mouth, Kagome cracked her eyes open and peered around the room. “Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for some—”

Kagome froze as her gaze landed on the nightstand beside the bed and stupidly her eyes began to water. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reached out and grabbed the little white container that sat innocently beside a bottle of water and a trembling smile slowly curved her lips. Blinking rapidly as her vision grew blurry, Kagome gave a shaky sigh and thought about how strange it was that a complete stranger had given her more kindness in compassion within the first hour of knowing him than her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend had in all of the four years she’d been with him.

Thinking of that wretched man who had caused her to end up in this predicament and most likely being the source of her current headache brought another deluge of tears and she huffed in annoyance, quickly dashing her hand across her eyes. Dammit, she’d cried enough over that worthless piece of trash! He didn’t deserve her tears, he didn’t deserve anything from her anymore and Kagome resolved to put him out of her mind, at least for now.

Sniffling, Kagome shook out two capsules of the Ibuprofen Inuyasha had, at some time this morning, put there for her to find and washed them down with a swig of the bottled water he’d also left for her. She smiled, wondering if he really was that perceptive or if he was just plain sneaky.

Deciding it didn’t matter either way because she was grateful all the same, Kagome ended up drinking half the bottle, not even realizing she was so thirsty, before setting it down with a sigh of satisfaction. She glanced out the window, wishing she still had her phone so she could check the time, but she hadn’t wanted to bring it with her when she left since it was under his name and she didn’t want anything that belonged to him. By the amount of sunlight she could see, Kagome judged it to still be early morning, perhaps 8 am at the latest.

Scowling once she realized her thoughts had turned back to him again, Kagome shook her head and stood up, thinking a shower sounded positively divine right about now. She retrieved her toiletry bag from her duffel and peeked out into the hallway, not at all surprised to find her host’s bedroom door wide open and empty. For some reason she’d suspected him to be an early riser, and it looked like she was right.

Crossing the hallway and entering the bathroom, she set her bag on the sink and turned on the water in the shower, getting it nice and hot before shucking her clothes. But then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she gasped, her eyes going wide as she leaned forward and lifted a shaking hand to her face.

God, she hadn’t realized… Seeing her reflection for the first time since Naraku had struck her, Kagome was taken aback at how terrible the bruise looked. It had turned an angry dark bluish-purple overnight that spread from the left side of her jaw to under her chin; no wonder she had a headache and it hurt to talk! Her astonished eyes flickered down to her neck and she winced at the circle of discolored flesh, shuddering as she recalled the feeling of his hand squeezing the breath right out of her lungs. Well, that explained the sore throat.

Kagome braced her hands on the sink and took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes, forcefully pushing those thoughts from her head. She had to stop thinking about it, about him. He was poisonous, toxic to her health, mentally and physically, and she’d be damned before she ever let him get to her again. She couldn’t believe it had taken Naraku actually hitting her for her to wise up and leave, but now that she had, she didn’t regret it. Their relationship had been going steadily downhill for the last two years and now things have come to a head, and she couldn’t be more satisfied with her decision to leave.

It took a moment, but she was able to regain her bearings and she stepped under the hot spray of the shower, washing away the proverbial dirt, her ex’s violent touch, and everything bad that had happened last night. As the water sluiced down the drain, she pretended that all of the negative memories attached to last night went with it, leaving her with a sense of cleanliness that was wholly refreshing.

Twenty minutes later and donned in comfortable shorts and a forest green t-shirt, Kagome was feeling much more like herself as she wandered down the stairs in moccasin-clad feet. Since she hadn’t been able to last night partly because she’d been tired but mostly because it had been too dark, she paused to admire the décor of the living area. The walls reminded her of a log cabin and the floor was polished hardwood, covered with a large oriental area rug in shades of dark reds and gold. An old fashioned fireplace took up the far wall, the brick mantel giving the room a rustic, charming look that made Kagome want to curl up on the comfy looking couch and snooze the day away. His entertainment center was top notch – of course – and the large bay windows provided a gorgeous view of open field and blue sky.

Inuyasha definitely has good taste, Kagome thought as she ventured into the kitchen and she had to smile upon spotting what was on the small two-seater table. Her heart gave a curious little flutter as she picked up a piece of toast and munched into it, eyeing the rest of the meal of eggs, bacon and sausage. While everything looked delicious, Kagome didn’t think her stomach would be up for it and she nearly whimpered as her eyes landed on the fresh pot of coffee sitting on the counter.

“Screw it,” she muttered a second later, snatched the empty mug on the table and marched over to pour herself a nice hot cup o’ joe. “Mmm,” Kagome sighed as she lifted it to her lips and took that first blessed sip; it was the perfect temperature.

From somewhere outside she heard Jaxson bark followed by a man’s deep timbre and without even thinking about it Kagome found herself crossing the kitchen, entering the little mudroom then with her coffee in hand, she exited the house into the pleasantly warm July morning. She spotted him instantly over by the fence that started at the barn and extended outward, using the hose to wash out some buckets and he was talking in low tones to Jax, who was trying to eat the water from the hose, and to the absolutely gorgeous creature that kept lipping at his hair and hat.

Kagome’s eyes lit up with delight and smiling, she descended the few steps and meandered her way over to him, clutching her coffee with both hands. He looked damn fine in a pair of torn jeans and a white t-shirt that showed off the spectacular muscles in his arms, and she couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning, his jaw still darkened attractively with stubble and she very suddenly wanted to run her fingers over the roughness. He was wearing the worn hat again from last night and she suspected he used it to keep the sun out of his eyes more than a fashion statement.

And the dust out of those adorable ears of his, she thought and had to bite her lip to stifle the giggle that welled up.

Inuyasha heard her before he saw her and after giving the black feed bucket one last rinse, he set it down and then slipped the open ended hose, still dispensing cold water, into the large water trough on the other side of the fence. Rain snorted and tried to grab his hat again but he thwarted her with an irritated grumble and gently shoved her long nose away.

“She’s beautiful,” Kagome remarked as she came to a stop beside him and reached out to stroke her palm down Rain’s soft muzzle to the even softer nose. The Paint horse nickered and happily accepted the attention for a few seconds before stretching her neck out and snuffling at the new person in curiosity. Kagome’s smile widened and she stroked that strong neck, marveling at the softness.

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Inuyasha returned but the way he slipped his hand under the brown and white mane to give a few fond scratches belied the careless words.

She laughed and his heart felt lighter. “What’s her name?”

“Rain,” he replied and leaned back against the fence, crossing his arms and keeping an eye on the water trough; he didn’t want it to overflow. “She belongs to my niece.” Giving her a quick once over, the damp hair pulled into a thick braid hanging over her shoulder and the subtle scent of cherry blossoms suggested she’d taken a shower and Inuyasha had to consciously resist the urge to inhale her scent deeply, glad that he detected no fear or exhaustion.

He didn’t elaborate any further but when she failed to hide the flash of disappointment that crossed her face before she looked away, Inuyasha grimaced and mentally cursed himself. He’d never been much of a conversationalist, never really seeing the need to waste energy on needless chatter. Besides, he wasn’t really good with the whole talking thing and living alone with nothing but animals for company hadn’t given him much practice in that aspect.

But staring at her now, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that swept through him and abruptly he felt like an ass for denying her the simple pleasure of idle chatter. It wasn’t like talking really required that much effort, and he didn’t want to make her feel like she was a burden after the nightmare she’d been through, or like she was an annoyance. On the contrary, Inuyasha liked having her around, which was strange because he also liked his solitude, but he didn’t dwell on it too long. If she was looking for a distraction to keep her from thinking about previous events, he’d do his best to oblige and in the meantime try not to be…well, himself and offend her somehow.

Mind made up, Inuyasha cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him, and explained, “Rin’s eleven years old, started asking for a pony at about five years, then for her birthday last year her dad finally caved, but with a few stipulations.” He rolled his eyes. “Since she obviously couldn’t keep a damn horse where they live in town, my bastard of a brother pretty must just showed up here with the animal one day, told me it was staying here, no asking involved, then fucking left with no other explanation.” He scowled but Kagome knew it wasn’t directed at her. “He’s such an asshole sometimes I can’t even believe we’re related. If it weren’t for Rin I wouldn’t want anything to do with him.” He snorted, and then growled when Rain shoved her nose next to his face and started nibbling his hair. He swatted her away and the horse snorted in annoyance, stomping her hoof.

“Yeah, yeah, back atcha, ya pissy mare.”

Kagome bit her lip to stifle her giggles. “So…Rin and Rain, huh?”

Inuyasha sighed and rolled his eyes again. “She likes to go around and say ‘I need some R and R time.’”

“That’s adorable,” Kagome remarked and hid her smile behind her coffee mug as she took another sip.

“It’s annoying.”

“I take it she’s watched Spirit a couple of times.”

He snorted at the under-exaggeration.

While Kagome tired not to choke on her coffee as she snickered, Inuyasha shook his head and fought a smile of his own. It was nice to see her looking happy; it was a completely welcome change from last night’s frightened disposition. “Anyway, it was a damn good thing who ever owned this place last apparently had a barn animal because it already had a stall. I just had to spruce it up a bit.” He paused. “After making Sess pay for the supplies.”

“So, you take care of her?”

“No.”

She gazed at him expectantly, clearly waiting for more on the subject, and he inwardly kicked himself for already forgetting his silent vow. Hadn’t he just decided to not be an ass and not be his usual antisocial self for five goddamn minutes? “Rin comes by every morning before school to feed and turn her out, then after school she’ll show up to clean the barn a bit – her payment for boarding her here – feed her again around 5 pm, and if she has the time, take her for a ride. A lot of the time the brat skips mucking her stall, so I’m stuck doing it, but it gives me something to do, so.” He shrugged.

Kagome nodded and watched the brown and white creature as she lowered her head and investigated the water hose filling up the trough. “It’s very nice of you to keep her here for Rin.”

Inuyasha shrugged again. “S’not a big deal. Not like there’s no room for her, and Sess pays for all her expenses. Besides,” he said as Rain nudged his head with her nose and he let out soft sigh as patted her shoulder. “She’s sorta grown on me, and I’m pretty sure Miss Attitude here is attached to me, too.” And as if to prove that point, Rain made a few soft grunting noises and laid her head on his shoulder with a big gusty sigh.

Kagome could completely relate to that. Even after knowing him for only a handful of hours, she was growing attached to him too, and it was a little alarming at how much that didn’t bother her. It should have had warning bells going off in her head, she should be running for the hills at the mere implication that there could be something deeper going on here, but the thing of it was, Kagome didn’t feel threatened at all. Despite being a man of few words, Inuyasha was…easy to talk to. And maybe it was because he didn’t talk much that she was so comfortable around him, but whatever the reason, Kagome felt safe, fully able to relax for the first time in a very long time and she was reluctant to give that up.

The Paint mare suddenly lifted her head and snorted in agitation, shaking her mane once and flicking her tail. Inuyasha frowned but the playful growl he heard next answered his silent question and he rolled his eyes. Jax had crawled through the fence and was currently doing his most favorite pastime of provoking the poor horse, running around her legs and nosing under her belly.

Kagome giggled behind her coffee mug. “I see what you meant now when you said he likes to pester her.”

Inuyasha stared at his dog like he was a lost cause. “He probably ain’t ever gonna stop, either, because Rain never hurts him. The most she’ll ever do is shove him down with a rough head-butt and chase him around, but Jax loves it because he thinks she’s playing with him. And in a way, she sorta is. Despite what it looks like, they’re best buds.”

Rain snorted again and pranced around before backing up and nudging Jax’s side with her big nose. The dog released a few excited, playful growls and zipped underneath her again and then the chase was on, Rain swinging her big body around and taking off after him.

Kagome watched them go with a fond smile and would have been content to stand there all morning in companionable silence with him, but then Inuyasha cleared his throat and she glanced over at him curiously. She wasn’t prepared to be met with intense amber eyes gazing at her and her heart skipped a beat in her chest as a soft flush stole across her cheeks.

He studied her quietly for a moment, the brim of his cap shadowing his eyes but she could still feel the way they bore into her own. “How you feeling?” he finally asked, his voice a low rumble that caused a not-so-unpleasant shiver to crawl along her spine.

Regathering her scattered wits, Kagome sucked in a breath and gave him a smile. “I’m…much better today, thank you.”

He visibly relaxed and gave a short nod, relieved. Then quiet reigned once again and so he didn’t feel so awkward just standing there silently, Inuyasha strode the few paces over to the side of the barn and twisted the knob to cut off the water.  He started rolling the hose back up, thinking he still needed to get some hay down from the loft—

“Kagome.”

Inuyasha snapped his head up and stared at her in open surprise.

She blushed and ducked her head. “My name is Kagome. I’m…sorry I never told you last night. I guess I just…” She trailed off and fiddled with the lukewarm mug of coffee in her hands, staring down into the dark liquid.

“Don’t.”

Kagome blinked and lifted her gaze back to his. “Huh?”

He wasn’t looking at her as he coiled the hose with practiced ease, hooking the length under his elbow and winding it around. “Don’t be sorry for not telling me. After the hell you went through, you deserved a little anonymity.” He slid the neat coil of hose off his arm and draped it over the metal hook.

Kagome’s eyes widened slightly and then a smile slowly curved her mouth. “I…suppose you’re right. I never really thought of it that way.”

“Hard to think about much of anything after—” Abruptly he cut himself off and shot her a slightly panicked look.

Her smile turned sad and she shook her head. “Yeah. I suppose I had more than enough reason to be distracted.”

Relieved he apparently hadn’t fucked up by saying the wrong thing, Inuyasha nodded. Now that the subject was breeched, however, he was reminded of the phone call he’d made earlier. “I called the nearest tow company this morning,” he started. “Gave them the location of your car, and they told me they’d have a truck out there within the next hour or so. That was”—he checked the time on his phone—“just about an hour ago, actually, so I should be getting a call back soon.”

Kagome wondered why the good news didn’t lift her spirits. “I see,” she said and stared down into her now cold coffee. “I guess…I’ll be out of your hair soon, then.” A pang went through her chest and though she tried to tell herself she didn’t understand it, Kagome knew why she was suddenly feeling so…empty.

For some reason those words elicited an achy hollow feeling in the middle of his chest and Inuyasha absently rubbed the spot, suspecting why he suddenly felt thus, but refusing to admit it, even to himself.

Falling quiet, Kagome watched him walk back over and stack up the buckets he washed out earlier. Her smile faded and a tight knot of anxiety formed in her chest. Inuyasha had been nothing but considerate toward her, unbelievably patient, had even opened up his home to her, and here she was not even having the decency to be honest with him. She’d wanted to repay him for all of his kindness somehow, and she supposed she could start with telling him everything that had happened. He deserved nothing less after what he’d done for her.

“Inuyasha,” she started but when she looked up she couldn’t find him anywhere. She frowned and opened her mouth to call for him again, but a nearby “In here” had her walking forward and ducking into the barn through the open side door. Kagome paused because she still couldn’t see him, but then suddenly a bale of hay dropped heavily a few feet in front of her and she jumped in surprise with a quiet gasp. Her half-demon host followed shortly thereafter and landed with a grunt beside the bale. It took Kagome a moment to realize he’d jumped from the loft and not from the rafters.

“That’s handy,” she commented in amusement and thought she saw Inuyasha’s lip kick upward briefly.

“Keh.” He slipped his fingers beneath the twine and heaved it up with little effort before carrying it over to Rain’s stall.

Kagome stared. Weren’t hay bales supposed to be super heavy? He was carrying it like it weighed nothing! “Color me impressed,” she muttered to herself and this time she missed the slight upturn of Inuyasha’s mouth.

“Did you need something, Kagome?” he asked abruptly and then immediately hoped that hadn’t come across as impatient or annoyed. His ears flattened beneath his hat and he cursed himself. Damn, but his people skills sucked. With a little more force than was necessary he yanked a muck rake from the wall and wheeled over a muck bucket.

It must have sounded normal to her, however, because she didn’t look offended, but she did suddenly look…ashamed? Inuyasha frowned and stopped before he entered Rain’s stall. Leaning the rake against the door, he turned to face her fully and leaned back against stall door, hands in his pockets. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to be ashamed of anything, but waited to see what she would say first.

Seeing that she had his undivided attention, Kagome sucked in a breath and looked him right in his startling amber eyes. “I…owe you an explanation,” she began but Inuyasha was already shaking his head before she could finish.

“You don’t owe me anything, Kagome,” Inuyasha tried to tell her but she wasn’t having it.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I do. You’ve already done so much for me in just the short amount of time I’ve known you, Inuyasha, and the only way I can think to repay you is with complete honesty. I need to tell you…what happened. And I’m not doing this because I feel obligated, or pressured, or anything like that. I want you to know because you deserve the truth after sticking your neck out for me.”

Inuyasha wanted to point out that those two punks hadn’t even been the slightest bit of threat to him but he stayed quiet and waited, allowing her to explain. And despite himself, he was curious, even though he had a feeling he’d end up getting pissed from hearing about how some asshole had purposely hit an innocent woman.

“Before I get to all of that, though, I want to apologize for my behavior last night,” she began and stared down into the dark contents of her coffee mug as she gathered her thoughts. “I wasn’t…myself, and it was like I was…I don’t know, looking at myself from someone else’s point of view, or something. I was there, but not. And I—”

“No.”

Kagome started at his vehement interjection and her mouth parted slightly.

Golden eyes, swimming with something Kagome couldn’t quite identify, burned into her own brown depths so intently she felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Don’t you ever apologize, to me, or anybody else for acting the way you did. What happened wasn’t your fault and I’m pretty damn sure anyone would have acted strangely or different after getting fucking punched in the face from somebody you thought you could trust. So there ain’t nothing to apologize for, you understand me?” He crossed his arms and stared her down, daring her to object and Kagome felt a curious fluttering in her stomach at his passionate reasoning.

And then stupidly she felt like crying because it felt so good to have someone stand up for her and defend her honor. Or something like that. Whatever, Kagome was just so grateful to have met this man, suddenly feeling foolish to have ever doubted or mistrusted him.

Despite her best efforts, her eyes welled up with tears and through blurry vision she watched Inuyasha’s face twist into an expression of panic, his eyes going wide and his entire body tensing. “Aw, shit, no don’t—I didn’t mean—”

“He’s never hit me before,” Kagome admitted, her voice soft and Inuyasha snapped his jaw shut. “For the entire four years we were together, Naraku hadn’t even hinted that he wanted to hurt me, or hit me. He wasn’t even verbally abusive, he wasn’t…he didn’t drink, or have anger issues or anything like that. But…” She hesitated, then sighed and laid it all down. “For the past two years, our relationship had been…well, it wasn’t like it used to be. More fights over stupid things, we hardly showed affection for one another anymore, barely even talked…it was just going downhill.

“I’ve never once felt threatened, though,” she continued. “Or scared, or doubtful. Nothing extreme ever happened to make me want to leave, so this…” She vaguely gestured to her face and Inuyasha forced himself to take in the mottled flesh, feeling familiar anger boil in his gut. “This came out of nowhere. We were getting ready for bed, and he…well, he wanted sex, and I didn’t. So I said no, he got pissed and—” She shrugged. “Maybe it was drugs but I can’t be sure. I mean he had been acting a little strangely the night before, sort of zoning out at odd times, snapping at me for absolutely no reason, and spending an abnormally long time in the bathroom but it was nothing too extreme to make me immediately start thinking, ‘oh my god it’s drugs,’ but I didn’t stick around to ask because I didn’t care. I just knew I needed to leave.

“But anyway,” she continued and lifted a hand to swipe at her eyes, sniffling once. “Right after it happened, Naraku started apologizing, telling me he didn’t know what came over him, it’ll never happen again, you know, all that bullshit. But it was all just noise to me. I walked away and started packing a bag because I’d always told myself that if something like that ever happened to me, I would leave. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who stayed with their abusive boyfriends because if he did it once, he’ll do it again. So I packed, and he kept talking to me, trying to get me to stop, but I ignored him. He didn’t like that so he threw my bag across the room, grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against the wall.” She frowned as her hand came up to flutter her fingertips across the bruised flesh of her neck. “That was when I got scared because he was…he was squeezing and I couldn’t breathe and I remember…God, I remember—”

She cut herself off with a choked sound and Inuyasha had to physically stop himself from wrapping her up in his arms and begging her to stop because this was obviously too hard for her. But he dug his claws to his palms and clenched his jaw so hard it ached. After a moment she composed herself and continued, her voice thick with emotion, “I remember his face…it was terrifying. He—he terrified me. He was a completely different person then, someone I didn’t recognize and I just kept thinking I had to get out of there. Then, like a spell had been lifted or something, his face suddenly cleared and he let go. He looked…horrified at himself but I didn’t stick around to see what would happen next. I grabbed what I’d managed to pack, put on the closest pair of shoes, grabbed my keys, and ran.”

Kagome took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I didn’t have any place in mind to go. I just…drove. My family lives hours away out of town, my best friend’s shacked up with some guy she met and not answering her phone…I had nowhere to go. And then my car broke down on that back road, those two guys showed up, and if you hadn’t stopped and scared them off—”

“But I did,” Inuyasha cut her off that time and she gasped, her eyes shooting open and locking with his. “And I’d do it again.” Keeping his gaze on hers, he lifted a hand and tenderly wiped away a wayward tear from her cheek with a sweep of his clawed thumb, the urge to touch her too great to ignore.

Kagome released a strangled sound that was half sob, half gasp and grabbed his hand with one of hers, holding on tightly as more tears leaked out of her eyes and streaked down her cheeks.

Inuyasha let her hold his hand for however long she wanted, wishing he could do more, because the sight of her like this was killing him. The temptation to beat the fucker who hurt her into a bloody pulp came back with a vengeance and the growl that erupted from his throat promised all kinds of pain if this no good piece of shit named Naraku ever showed his face to him. He didn’t listen to the little voice in his head telling him that he never would because she was leaving, and instead focused on the young woman before him, his growl turning into a soothing rumble in his chest while his other hand rose to very carefully brush his fingers across the bruise on her jaw.

Caramel-colored eyes fluttered open at the whisper-soft touch and she read the question in those twin pools of sunset yellow. Getting a hold of herself, but not releasing his hand, Kagome mustered up a smile for him and let out a shaky sigh, nodding once.

Though small, he could tell her smile was genuine and he nodded back, his expression softening and without thinking he stroked her cheek. A soft flush colored the skin and his mouth kicked up into a half-grin, both relieved that she hadn’t shied away from his touch, knowing that the last man to touch her hadn’t been so gentle, and extremely gratified that he could make her blush.

Kagome sighed, leaned into his touch, and Inuyasha opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he could utter a single word the shrill sound of his cell phone ringing pierced the silence between them and the moment was gone.

Inuyasha’s hand dropped and Kagome hastily scrubbed at her cheeks and eyes to rid of the damning evidence as, not without a grumble of annoyance, he fished the mobile out of his pocket and checked the screen.

Sniffling one last time, Kagome lifted her gaze just as Inuyasha accepted the call and held the device up to his face. “Yeah?”

He listened for a minute, and then his eyebrows popped up into the fringe of his bangs before they dipped into a puzzled frown. “What?” He sounded bemused and Kagome’s own brows furrowed slightly. Who was he talking to? “Yeah, I’m positive.” Pause. “Are you sure? Nothing’s there?” Whoever was on the other line must have answered in the affirmative because Inuyasha’s expression darkened and a growl erupted from his throat. “Shit. Yeah, alright. No, I believe you.” There was another pause, and then his eyes cut to hers. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks, Hachi.” He hung up, stared at his phone with that frown still in place, and then pocketed it again with a sigh.

Beyond curious now about that peculiar exchange, Kagome ventured, “Inuyasha? What was that all about? Is everything okay?”

Inuyasha stared hard at her for a moment and then revealed, “That was Hachi. He owns Tanuki’s Towing.”

A wave of foreboding washed over Kagome and she stiffened. “Did-did he…”

“Your car is gone, Kagome.”

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#you rescued me #chapter 2 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction

[hennythejetsmith]

Window Part One

Water raced down the glass as the storm ensued. I likened the drops to stars as I peered through the window toward the sky. A reflection of heaven in the form of her tears as I created my own constellations. This four-sided room repelled summer’s petrichor; it was the first rain of the season. The rain drummed ever so slightly on the pane as if it waited for Miles Davis’ trumpet to accompany the lulling rhythm; where were the aristocrats & lovers of jazz to slow dance the night away. Ironically, Jim Hall’s Concierto De Aranjuez played on in the background & I cherished the lasting memory of her I had; a lone orchid catty-corner the looking glass aka my escape. A crack of the window was okay for fresh air every so often, but I preferred her fragrance, he flower that is. As if it were the rose & I were the beast, the glow mustn’t ever die out, even as she went on to love another. I still love her y’know? Of course, I’d never muster the strength to mutter out a single indication of such for wallowing in this unrequited torment truly is a pastime of mine.

 The lavender futon held many a soul captive that fell victim to its underappreciated comfort. Through a torrential downpour, you could see a young man, maybe in his early 20s, rise into view & disappear into what looked like a college kid’s dorm or contemporary minimalist coffee shop. From ground level, you could vaguely see strung up lightbulbs, thumbtacked polaroid photos, & what looked like an unfinished canvas. The neighbors knew little of this “millennial,” though he subscribed to ideal of unsubscribing to labels. Placing citizens in categories based on their birthyear may work for some on a literal level, but the soul itself, transcends the confines of any linear time period. A quick gander outside & he turned his back as he vanished from eyesight of any bystander. A quiet little suburban area is where he’d come home to rest at night. He never really uttered much but a “hello, how are you?” to those that lived aside him. If you were quiet enough, the keys of a piano would faintly soothe the mind & relieve you of the bustle of real life between the drywall that separated the humble town home from the others.

 “My hair is a mess,” a quiet thought to myself staring at the looking glass. The bronze & gold finish around the mirror is a bit tacky; I could’ve done without this.

           He shrugged his shoulders in complacency & carried on.

Vivacious, just as it was when she first brought you in here, my love. Just like her, beauty unparallel. I imagine right now, she has nestled up under her sill as her rosy lips are kissed ever so gently by summer’s breeze. How am I to compete as nature nurtures her very being? A love affair where I quietly, yet graciously, am on the outside as the third wheel.

           His mind rarely took the time to be sit by itself, even as he did externally. The image of she & he had internally been etched onto his consciousness’s wallpaper.

The inkwell seems to be refilling, where have my pen & notebook ran off to? They too, in some sort of flirtatious dalliance & I am nothing but the conduit for their interaction; not that it bothers me.

           He reached for a string to lower the shutters in his room. A sense of intimacy was needed that the world could not witness, according to him at least. The surrounding periwinkle paint provided a calm as a neon “Good Vibes” shone light juxtaposed the outer gloomy sky blocking out the moon. The clean-cut young adult reached to the right of his futon alongside the right wall of his room & grabbed a green notebook. “CVS” adorned on the bottom right of the pad really did not mean much alone but intertwined with the midnight trips for juice & snacks, his heart would skip a beat as his eyes skirted across the cover. It truly was the simple things that would get him. He really loved her. He flipped open to a random page with a ball point pen resting on the coiled bounds of the book. One last stare at the orchid that rest in the corner of his room & his lids covered his eyes. Reaching for his pen, he seemed to be in some sort of trance, becoming a body chattel for some higher being as words begun to scribble across the college-ruled paper.

 Your silence is deafening.

Am I to be at fault

For knowing not that to gift you with my heart

Would leave me in joyous ruin?

 An endless current; yet presentably stoic. No one shall ever know of the affinity I have for you still. Deceit is my greatest weapon & these pages remain privy to myself only. Short & sweet this time I see; reminiscent to the inevitable beginning & end of our fiery passion.

                              _______________________________________________

   Coins clink together, sirens ring non-stop, lights flicker on & off like some rave, but all I see is her flowing cinnamon hair & feel the soft touch of her hand. She told me she had always wanted to play Ms. Pac-Man in a genuine arcade, but never had the chance. I cannot seem to remember her name, but the crescent inked on the back of her neck, Luna could be a moniker until my memory decides to refresh itself. I have doomed myself to be labeled some male chauvinist pig objectifying her for the night. Fuck, I must think of somethi-

           “Hey, so are you ready to lose?”

           “I really do not think you know what you are getting yourself into Luna. Sorry, I saw the tattoo on the back of your neck & couldn’t help it. I hope you do not take offense.”

           “Oh, no. It’s okay.” Whew, dodged one bullet, now to remem-

           “My name, by the way, is Ana. That was your last chance to forget.”

Despite the fluorescent bulbs incessant flashing, my eyes are fixated on you Ana. Subtle, yet sent straight to my spine; forget your name, never again will I.

           “How did you know?”

As Ana chuckles, she responds,

           “Because you just told me.” She laughs again & proceeds past the row to what seems to be an endless amount of ski ball tables. With all the calamity surrounding us, all I could hear was the sound of her voice. Softly fluttering atop my ear drums akin to the late great Amy Winehouse.

           “Really a shame what has to happen here. You sure you don’t want to hop in the Jurassic Park game? That’ll be fairer considering I haven’t played that since my Chuck E. Cheese days.” No response as we traverse the litter of children & adolescence. I can hear the chains rattling from the basketball games in the corner; I watch the tickets fall out of the Whack-A-Mole; I wonder how many tries before that bonus tickets slot is hit on that one game all the kids want to play. 500 tickets for the bonus is pretty good, I’m sure someone will be lucky enough.

 There was no line for the Ms. Pac-Man placed in the back corner. Most kids were more concerned not with the classics but winning the prizes behind the counter. Playstation 4s & the new Xboxes were for the top ticket getters alongside the motor scooter that seemed to have been collecting dust for quite some time. It was a bit smoky in Kat’s 24-hour arcade. Marijuana smoke was a lot less bothersome to her than tobacco though. Whenever she smelt a hint of cigarette, the lights came on & the games shut down until the culprit was found & removed hastily. Some nights, she closed early because no one wanted to come forward. She made sure the kids were out by 9 o’clock pm, some snuck around after, because she knew that grown folks too, loved to play video games to escape the endless cycles that left so many of her regulars entrapped. Their cynicism & vitriol toward their very own lives brought tears to her eyes every so often. So, she decided to invest in giving others a chance to relive their childhoods. Kat always sat in the back on her wooden stool next to the NBA JAM, her favorite. You wouldn’t know that she was a huge Orlando magic fan living up north in the Big Apple. Always a chip on her shoulder from the “what if” with Shaq & Penny. Tonight, was no different; she was sitting in the back, watching highlights from their golden era as a couple zoomed right by headed straight for Ms. Pac-Man. For a second, she was distracted due to how young they looked.

           “Hmph, at least some of these ‘millennials’ know a little bit about nothing,” she thought to herself as she refocused back to “The Youtube.”

 I really underestimated her. All I hear is waka-waka-waka-waka; all I see are intermissions & level design changes; & I feel that I am about to lose! Maintaining composure is key, but she has not lost a single life & now a random assortment of fruits is dispersing through maze openings like an opened pack of Runts. She has absolute control of the screen & it’s as if she flows effortlessly with the ghosts; she is one with Ms. Pac-Man.

           “It’s your turn. You don’t have to be astonished anymore. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t want to listen. Sol.”

She slid to the side as it was my turn. No way that I take an early loss. She’s at about 43,000 already before my first go around.

           “Sol?”

           “Well, it would only be right to call you Sol, considering you named me Luna. Or are you unaware of the moon’s opposite Shawn?”

           “I mean, it seems you haven’t forgotten my name.”

           “It would be rude to do so. We all can’t be you, now can we?”

Is she being serious? Or is this a sarcastic barrage to distract me fro-well that is the end of my turn.

           “Well played. Ana.”

She smiled in a snark manner. Who are you & what is this fluttery feeling in my stomach?

                              _______________________________________________

   “To play into a stalemate is the goal here. I am at a severe disadvantage right now,” Shawn thought to himself as he eyed the dual-colored board. Erratic sleep patterns would leave him in states of melancholy that were relieved with doses of chess: mano y mano. His opponent, usually visible not to the naked eye, unless a photographer had photoshopped a still image of himself imposed on the wall. Each piece calculated & moved while simultaneously calculating how many moves would no longer stall his inner peace before sunrise. The shadows on his wall were not envious as they watched with morose endurance. They murmured amongst themselves questioning if she were to ever return, but not even the remnants of her no longer played on the periwinkle walls in his sleep. Piece after piece was removed from the board as the stars laid down to rest. His eyes never wavered until 2 Kings remained atop the wooden square. The moon peaked through the blinders, shed a tear, & blew a kiss before she too, disappeared in the morning. Sometimes, she kept an eye on him & the sun was a bit jealous of their connection. He did not know what the moon saw in Shawn. The megastar’s bitterness brought forth a chilly June day. A purple windbreaker & sweat shorts were enough to combat back. A bit unusual, but no deterrence as Shawn strolled past the emerald green lawns & lush trees; much the same to some family-oriented television sitcom. Shawn was unaware that a smile crept up on his face, but the neighbors took notice & waved as he quickened his pace down the side walk. Blue jays harmonized in the air above him as he eyed butterflies frolic through the air & he suddenly stopped in his tracks…

                               _______________________________________________

   Melted together where the colors of the carnival as Shawn felt Ana clinch onto his arm & the body-sized tiger that came between them as the teacup frantically span the three into a muzzy state of joy.

           “You two look like a real-time version of Calvin & Hobbs. Carmen & Hobbs is what I’ll call you two.”

Shawn had gotten a little more comfortable with Ana after a few dates. She scornfully stared a hole into his forehead.

           “You still haven’t gotten over that Ms. Pac-Man beating have you? It’s okay, one day the shattered ego you have will finally be content. Until that day, I will starve that small little man that screams inside of your mind until it is victory you concede & you melt into the putty I envision you to mold you into the sculpted man I truly desire. Right now, this is just the waiting game. You were distracted too easily to converse when we were in the heat of war. Your loss.”

Her tongue was paint, or acid, her choice. He, simply, was a blank canvas for her liking at this very moment.

“Maybe, its more so that you’ve chosen to indulge a bit too deeply in the appetizer that I handfed you with the victory I allowed you to have. Whose to say your victory wasn’t fixed?”

           “All speculation. Of course, this type of allegation you would lean on to save face. Very Tim Donaghy of you Shawn. I’m disappointed.”

           ��I mean, since that point, your victories have become few & far between. Even that night, pinball, clear-cut win in my column. Air Hockey was a 7-0 skunk. Basketball wasn’t even a challenge. Donaghy? Really?”

           “See how two of those three play to your advantage, with maybe the exception of air hockey because the table is even, but your physical strength gives you an advantage when you decide that my whole became a target & your…whatever they are called, because an AK-47 as you fired the puck with no restraint? How does fried victory taste? Hopefully as nutritious as a microwavable patty covered in barbecue sauce people clamor on about.”

           “Doesn’t matter its value, because in that moment it tastes so fucking good, I care not for the bigger picture there, but enjoying the RIGHT NOW!”

 The two had not noticed that all eyes in the carnival had locked onto their jawing match. That did not matter now, Ana’s curly brown & auburn hair had become vibrant & through her glasses, he glared directly into her darkened eyes & she too, was magnetized by his. Tension in the air was still as many were frozen, not knowing what was next. A vein in his neck pulsated as sweat trickled down her brow. Both, instantaneously after realizing what this was, scurried off to the closest blackened corridor. They found an absent alley by a Ferris Wheel ridden by many. Ana dropped her Hobbs in withered grass & turned her back to the wall as Shawn gripped her hip & both their full lips met in passion. Onlookers cheered from the skyline as they snapped back to reality, simmering their immature fervor.

           “Really? Our first kiss comes from your antagonistic… never mind. You wi… oh wait, you won’t get me that easily.”

           “I’ve already won,” she responded. “The moment I led you through Kat’s doors. I felt it. That doesn’t matter now, shut up & kiss me.”

                               _______________________________________________

#short story #love #nostalgia #unrequited #arcade #city #night #summer #writers of tumblr #writeblr #contemporaryart #art #writer's corner #free write #writer's community #window #poem #poetry #life #piece of me #lost

[toosicktoocare]

keith and lance take on the supernatural world

@prompt-master you said fluff, so what do I write? Klangst. I write klangst like the trash I am. 

Klance: 2.4k: Buzzfeed Unsolved AU

There are professional ghost hunters—ones who have a whole crew with cameramen and fancy editors—and then there’s Keith and Lance, who started investigating the supernatural unknown as a fun hobby, unaware at the time that they would garner a massive online fan-base that would have them going out once a week to some seemingly haunted location to try and answer the one question everyone always asks them: are ghosts real or not?

There are times when neither capture any supernatural activity, and then there are times like tonight, where they can’t walk two steps down a long corridor in a massive, old, brick mansion without hearing a bang against the wall or a breath of a whisper brushing against their ears along a cold, untraceable breeze.

“This is the big one,” Lance whispers, hands shaking slightly around the camera as he and Keith move toward what’s called “The Throne Room” at the end of the hall. “Don’t you think? We’ve already got so much good footage as is.” He looks over his shoulder, arching both brows at Keith, who rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Then why are we still here?” Keith asks, voice sharp enough to echo against the narrow walls. “We’ve already got loud banging sounds and unexplained whispers, what more do we need?”

“We need to find the cursed pendant,” Lance answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not leaving until—” Lance’s words are cut off by a loud bang against the wall right beside his head. He yelps and jerks back, elbowing Keith’s stomach in the process.

“Fuck,” Keith huffs out, hand moving to his torso instantly as Lance spins around with a sheepish look of sympathy painting his face.

“Shit,” he whispers, hand cupping the one Keith has splayed over his stomach. “Sorry. You okay?”

“Yes,” Keith grumbles, trying hard to keep the annoyance from biting at his tone. “Let’s just keep going.”

Nodding, Lance turns back around and keeps moving forward, with the Throne Room growing closer and closer. His eyes are narrowed and gleaming with hints of excitement and determination. He and Keith read up on the cursed pendant before coming. Apparently, everyone who puts it on dies unexplained deaths. There’s been many who’ve had autopsies, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary found—it’s as if the life of the people just fades away. One guy who was with someone who ended dying told authorities that his friend got really pale and complained of feeling very weak. The two tried to get the pendant off, but it was stuck, as if being kept in place by something unseen—something supernatural. They tried to leave to get help, but the friend died before he made it all the way out of the mansion. Authorities carefully carried the pendant back to the Throne Room before putting strict warnings on the buildings, warnings many people have ignored since then.

It's the exact type of unexplainable circumstance that Lance thrives off of, and he quickens his pace when the door to the Throne Room comes into sight. His free hand drops onto the large doorknob that’s in the shape of a lion, but before he can twist it, Keith’s hand drops to his shoulder, prompting him to look back with a slight frown.

“Keith—”

“Are you sure you want to go in here?” Keith’s voice holds a stern tone that’s colored with concern, enough to have Lance tilting his head.

“Yes, why?”

“People have died in there, Lance.”

Lance breathes out a huff of a laugh. “People have died in every place we’ve gone to since we started this. That’s kind of the point—to try and capture the ghosts of people who’ve died.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Keith grumbles under his breath, but he nods instead of arguing further, knowing that Lance won’t back down, not when they are this close.

“Are you ready?” Lance asks, voice reclaiming the breath of excitement as he practically bounces on the balls of his feet, ready to try and figure out what exactly is killing people.

Shrugging, Keith motions to the door, opting to ignore the ball of nerves twisting in his stomach as Lance turns the doorknob and pushes the door open. Inside, there’s a massive chair in the center of the room with one, large necklace with a ruby pendant resting on top the chair’s gold cushion, and all around the chair on the floor are necklaces with pendants of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. The two step in, barely breathing, and of course, Lance walks straight to the necklace on the chair.

“Don’t touch it,” Keith hisses out, and Lance shakes his head as he crouches down to get a clear shot.

“I won’t. I just want to look at it and around it—see if I can find anything weird.” Lance calls out, voice almost distracted as he fiddles with the lens of the camera, zooming in to get a closer inspection.

Keith’s gaze lingers on Lance’s back, just for a moment, before he turns to nudge his boot in a pile of necklaces on the floor. He watches as they move against his foot, and he’s leaning down to get a closer look when he hears a loud thud that has him whipping his gaze around to see Lance on the floor in front of the massive chair.

“Lance,” he starts, moving toward the brunet, who has gone frighteningly still. “Are you—” his words trail off when he catches sight of a red gleam shining against Lance’s neck. “Lance,” Keith breathes out, voice barely above a whisper as he drops to his knees in front of him. “Why—”

“I didn’t,” Lance protests, voice cracking. “It just kind of floated up and over my head.”

“Take it off,” Keith orders, voice shaking, and his heart plummets to his stomach when Lance looks to him with wide, welling eyes.

“I can’t.” Lance’s voice is a rough whisper as he tries to pull the pendant up and over his head, but something stops it—some unseen force. He can lift it away from his chest, but when he tries to move it up more, it just comes to a halt. He tugs at the chain, trying to break it with trembling hands, but he can’t, it’s indestructible.

Keith rakes a shaking hand through his hair as his eyes dart all across Lance’s face. “How do you feel?”

“Okay,” Lance starts, but the second the word leaves his mouth, he’s hit with strong wave of dizziness that seems to pull the energy from him. He blinks slowly and swallows back a lump of nausea crawling up his throat, and he only manages out a small “Oh,” before Keith is on him and reaching for the necklace.

The second Keith’s fingers brush against the pendant, he’s flying back passed the chair to hit the wall behind it. It feels as if his head hits first, and for a second, his vision goes black and all sounds fade to a dull ringing as he sinks to the floor, back throbbing the whole way down. But, sight and sounds come back in slow waves. Keith can see Lance struggling to stand, to go to him, and then he can hear the repeated screams of his name, over and over until he’s calling out to Lance with a cracking voice.

“I’m fine,” he says, even though he knows he’s not. He’s concussed; he’s played enough sports in high school and college to know the feeling, but Lance is his pressing matter. He struggles to his feet, swaying as he stumbles back to Lance, falling to his knees with a huff a few feet before the brunet. “We got to get that off, Lance,” Keith presses as he glances around for a different way since he can’t touch it.

“It’s stuck,” Lance cries, tears streaming down his cheeks as he continues to struggle to get it off. He can feel himself growing weaker by the second; the room is growing hazy, and he feels frighteningly cold and sick to his stomach.

Keith’s breaths are coming out in choppy pants that stutter against his racing heart. Frustration tugs at his stomach, his chest, because he can’t help. He can’t touch Lance. He doesn’t know what to do except watch his boyfriend fade right before his eyes. Lance’s skin has taken on an ashen gray color, and his lips are starting to turn an off shade of blue. It’s too much, and Keith slams his hand down, knocking a few plastic necklaces to the side.

“Fuck!” He shouts, fist throbbing as he pounds it once more against the floor. His mind is racing, trying to find some inkling of a way out of this that ends with Lance alive. He doesn’t care if he makes it or not, but Lance has too much to see in life, too much to give. And this thought alone has Keith scrambling to his feet despite the room swaying and Lance’s worried, questioning look.

“Let me wear it!” He shouts around the room.

“Keith, what?” Lance can’t talk loud now, and he’s shaking from head to toe.

“I’ll take it from you,” Keith says with a somber look in his eye before he turns his attention to the chair. “Let me take it from him! Please!” It’s a desperate attempt, one that has Lance sobbing on the floor at his feet, but it’s all Keith’s got. If the pendant lifted onto Lance on its own, then surely it can do it again, right? That’s how this supernatural shit works, right? He glares at the chair as if piercing daggers at a previous owner of the pendant, and seconds later, Lance is gasping loudly as the pendant floats from his neck toward Keith.

“Wait,” Lance tries, feeling his energy flowing back into his body now that the pendant is gone. “Wait, Keith! Run or something!” He stumbles to his feet, but Keith stays planted in place and allows the pendant to get close enough to him, to touch him, and when the cool chain meets his skin, a spark of fire shoots out, burning Keith’s neck and sending the pendant flying back to the chair.

“Shit!” Keith hisses, bringing one hand to his neck as Lance practically falls into him. Keith’s free hand snakes around Lance’s back as Lance cries into his shoulder. “Lance,” he tries, and Lance looks up to him. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Right!” Lance pulls away from Keith and stumbles to grab the fallen camera, and the two book it out of the room and down long corridors until they are shoving the large double doors open and falling to the ground outside of the house, both panting heavily as their limbs tremble with the lingering fear.

Keith takes a moment to suck in a few harsh breaths before he’s crawling over to Lance, hands smoothing all over Lance’s face, arms, chest, in a frantic manner until Lance latches cool fingers around Keith’s wrists.

“Keith, I’m fine.”

At this, Keith’s eyes take on a color of hesitance that has Lance cupping his cheeks and moving in close until their foreheads are pressed against one another.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, and Keith sags against him as his body protests the amount of moving he’s done while with a concussion. His head is pounding, feeling almost as if someone is repeatedly punching his brain, and his back is throbbing from impact with the wall. He’s not even aware of the burn on his neck until Lance’s fingers brush against it, leaving him wincing and pulling away slightly.

“I think we should get you to a hospital.” Lance mutters, and Keith can only nod, wanting to have Lance checked out as well, just to be safe.

“Shiro and Matt are going to kill us,” Keith mutters, thinking of the two knee-deep in clinicals, as Lance helps him to his feet. The second he’s standing, his vision grows dark, but Lance hands him the camera so he can use both hands for support in case Keith goes down.

Lance ignores what Keith said as the two start back to Keith’s truck. “Why did the pendant do that?” He asks instead, voicing his thoughts with a frown. “Why did it reject you?”

“Why does anything that happens to us happen?” Keith grumbles, leaning heavily against Lance as he fights through a dull wave of nausea. “That’s a part of this whole thing—us never actually knowing why this shit happens.”

Lance only nods as he helps Keith into the passenger side of the truck, but before he closes the door, he stops, eyeing Keith with a frown that has Keith tilting his head slightly in question.

“Lance—”

“You were going to sacrifice yourself to save me,” Lance starts, blue irises slowly taking in every inch of Keith’s face. “Why?” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and he leans against the door as Keith sighs.

“You are really asking me why?” Keith mutters, and when Lance offers a quick nod, he runs a shaking hand down his face. “I’m not getting into this right now,” he huffs out quietly. “I made a judgement call to save you because I love you, and look—we’re both alive.”

“Keith—” Lance tries, but before he can push further, Keith is leaning over, dangerously close to falling out of the truck, as he smashes his lips against Lance’s, remaining there until he can physically feel Lance relax under his touch. 

After a moment, Lance gently pushes on Keith’s shoulders until Keith is safely back in the truck, and Keith shoots Lance a lazy gaze. “Can we please go now? Before I throw up everywhere?”

This gets Lance moving. He slams the door and races around to the driver’s side, hopping in and starting the car almost instantly. When he’s a fair distance away from the mansion, Keith sags against the window with a wince, thumbs lightly grazing the camera resting in his lap.

“Hey,” Lance starts, eyeing Keith nervously. “No sleeping.”

Sighing, Keith lifts his head and twists around to place the camera on the backseat. He doesn’t want to look at it right now—doesn’t want to think about what happened. He turns his gaze back to the windshield in front of him and massages his temple with two fingers as he nods in agreement with Lance.

“No sleeping.”

#voltron #vld #whump #whump fic #prompt #my writing #my voltron writing #klance #langst #klangst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #buzzfeed unsolved au #can ya'll tell i'm knee deep in buzzfeed unsolved hell right now? #because I am #i really fucking am