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megalony · 4 months

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Protect His Girls

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, I am hoping to turn this into a series if anybody is interested. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: Both Evan's wife and daughter have a lot of allergies between them. So Evan does everything he can to look after them and keep them safe.

Enjoy.

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"Alright, and I am-" Evan turned on his heels, a tender smile on his face that faded into a gruesome grimace when something bashed into his chest the moment he spun round. His arms lifted in the air and his chest tightened and sucked in but it didn't make a difference. The carton of milk in Chimney's hands was no well and truly soaked into Evan's shirt and trousers. "-Out."

He muttered defeatedly under his breath, lowering his arms to his sides before he tipped his head back and let a groan break past his lips.

"Fuck,"

"Sorry Buck," Chimney scrunched his nose and pursed his lips as he looked up at his friend with guilt in his eyes.

"This will be my third shower of the day." Evan pulled his plain grey shirt away from his chest but it didn't help. He could feel the milk soaking into his shirt and sending shivers down his legs that were now cold and drenched. Just as he was about to head home. Perfect.

"Why, just go get changed." Ravi pointed over his shoulder towards the stairs, trying to indicate to the locker room downstairs. There was no point going for another shower if he had a change of clothes in his locker he could get into and just head home.

"No, I need to shower."

"Oh, is, is this your cleanliness thing?"

Chimney looked across at Ravi and shook his head. This was not a conversation he should start and it wasn't the right time to get into that either. He could see the grimace on Evan's face at the mention of it. But Ravi noticed the same as everyone else that Evan showered as soon as he got to the station and then again before he left after shift. And Ravi had seen the way Evan would thoroughly wash his hands after touching certain things like they were contagious.

"Didn't you hear?" A colleague Ravi knew to be called Adam passed by Evan, giving him a rather dirty look as if he wanted to rile him up before he wandered over to the table Ravi was sitting at. "Buck's little wife is allergic to everything. Even him."

Adam scoffed around his coffee cup, seemingly unaware that now he had Chimney, Hen and Eddie all furiously glaring at him like he had shot someone right in front of them. Not everyone in the team knew about Evan's home situation and Adam had overheard and put a few pieces together, badly.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Evan let go of his shirt and turned round on his heels, blazing fury burning deep within his blue eyes when he stared at the person he thankfully never had the pleasure of working with. Adam was rotated on most of Evan's opposite shifts and they never had to work closely when they were out on a big call.

"It's the truth, isn't it? You keep her wrapped up in a little bubble of protection because she's a hypocondriac."

"Why don't you come and say that to my face?"

Evan clenched his hands into fists at his sides and took three daring steps closer to Adam who was taking small sips of his coffee with one hand casually leant against the table, propping himself up at an angle. One step closer and he would be within reach to smash his fist into Adam's face and enjoy the burning pain it would cause them both. Evan hadn't been in many fights in his life but he was no stranger to throwing punches and he could start a brawl right here in the station kitchen if he wanted to.

Adam didn't look like he would be much of an opponent to beat in a fight and after what he just said, Evan was ready to let loose on him.

How dare he stand there and spout rumours that weren't true and talk as if he knew (Y/n). Adam had never met her before, the only one of the team who had met (Y/n) was Chimney and that was only because he had come round to Evan's house with Maddie. Bobby knew about (Y/n) but he had never met her before. Adam knew nothing about her and Evan and yet here he was, stood making jibes and accusations.

Before anyone could stop him, Evan stepped forward and scrunched Adam's shirt up in his fists, yanking him off the table and pulling him closer until they were so close their noses were almost touching. Evan's upper lip curled into a snarl and his eyes darkened when Adam visibly paled in front of him but stayed silent.

Maybe he didn't think Evan would try and start a brawl right here in front of everyone.

"Go on, say it again."

"Alright that's enough!" Reaching over, Hen curled her hands around Evan's bicep as Eddie did the same to his other arm and they both wrenched him back. They pulled him five feet back towards the balcony so he couldn't throw the first punch and be suspended for fighting. That wasn't what anybody needed. And none of them wanted Bobby to come up and find out what was going on between them.

"He's not worth it," Eddie whispered quietly as he patted Evan's shoulder and gave him a certain, knowing look.

"Go get a shower and go home," Hen pointed towards the stairs and gave him a stern look. She was too tired to play referee to a fight this afternoon. But when she turned to look at Adam, her calm expression turned sour. "And you better disappear before you say something that'll get you suspended."

No one was going to give Adam any leeway or slack when he had just insulted Evan's wife in front of them all. He was aiming to rattle Evan's cage and cause an argument, he always was and Evan's family was the one thing that would always provoke him.

Evan jerked his arms out of Hen's grasp when she tried to turn him in the direction of the stairs. He held his hands out and huffed, sending one last glare over at Adam before he marched down the stairs for another shower. And Adam walked to the other side of the annex towards the sofa, seeing he clearly wasn't wanted around the kitchen unless he was willing to sit with the cold shoulder and silent treatment.

Evan slammed his locker open, revelling in the way it smashed into Eddie's locker and left a small dint in the metal. He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it down to the floor before he rummaged in his locker for a towel. He knew better than to try and touch the clean set of clothes in his locker before he'd had a wash. That would risk contaminating his new clothes with the milk that was slowly soaking into him and making him feel sticky and uncomfortable.

"What do you want, probie?" His head tilted back as he threw his towel over his shoulder. Evan didn't need to turn around to know the presence he felt behind him was Ravi, lurking sheepishly in the doorway.

When he turned around, he shut his locker and slumped his shoulders back against the locker, arching his back so his spine clicked into place. His arms folded over his chest, puffing out his arms and his bare chest as he raised a brow and waited impatiently for a response.

"I- I just wanted to uh, apologise. I didn't mean to cause an argument back there."

"Why? You didn't insult my wife." Evan pushed off the locker and looked down at his hands that started to grab and mess with the frayed end of the towel on his shoulder. "And just for the record, she isn't allergic to everything."

He wasn't sure why he was explaining himself. There was nothing Evan had to say to Ravi or anyone else, he didn't have to explain his situation. Bobby was the only one Evan told at first because he was Captain and he had a right to know why Evan could get so tetchy and pent up. But once he got close to the rest of the team, he eventually told them too. Hen was his friend, he confided in her. Chimney was practically his brother in law now that he was with Maddie and Eddie was his best friend. They were his family.

It was the rest of the station that Evan didn't trust. He didn't talk to them all as closely as the little group they had within their team and not everyone was kind. Some people were snarky, like Adam.

"Oh… yeah, I'm sure she isn't." Ravi held his hands together behind his back before he took a daring step into the locker room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just great. Someone who's never even met my wife has just insulted her to my face. Do you know what it's like for us?" Evan knew his pain was talking for him. A lot of the team understood even if they couldn't fully associate with what he and (Y/n) had to go through.

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/n)'s allergic to a lot of things, if I get my gear messed up I take it home to wash. I washed my clothes here on my second day at the station, and when I went home to hug my wife, we ended up in the emergency room. She was allergic to the detergent we use here."

That had been a bad day. Evan had gone home with the intention of telling (Y/n) how strange and full on his first two days at the station had been. But when he wrapped his arms around her, suddenly she couldn't breathe. Her skin came out in a rash, her throat swelled and they had to go to the hospital for three hours because she had a bad reaction to whatever Evan washed his clothes with at the station.

"Most creams and sprays bring her out in a rash, I don't wear aftershave anymore because she can't breathe around me if I do. I wash when I come on shift and before I leave so I don't take any substances of creams or dust home that might affect (Y/n). We leave the house with two EpiPens for emergencies that always happen and you wouldn't believe the food she can't have."

Evan had never met someone with so many allergies as (Y/n). He used to be so nervous going out on dates but his first date with (Y/n) had gone amazingly well, right until he kissed her. His aftershave made her breathless and started her off coughing. So far he had only found two very faint sprays that didn't affect (Y/n).

A lot of food she couldn't have like fish, nuts and eggs.

She used the same creams and body wash and cleaning soaps that didn't give her a reaction. That meant if she or Evan bought new clothes, they went straight in the wash when they got home before they were worn.

(Y/n)'s life was made up of risks and calculations in case she got ill and Evan had to take the same precautions because he loved the bones of his wife and didn't want to risk her health.

"Like milk?"

A small smile tugged at Evan's lips and he looked down at his damp trousers and shook his head.

"Actually, no. (Y/n) isn't allergic to milk, but somehow my daughter is. My house is the equivelant of a clean room to protect my girls."

Evan had been more than relieved when their numerous hospital trips showed that Bella wasn't allergic to everything like (Y/n) was. She had taken after Evan, he had given her some of his immunity which he thanked God for. But Bella had some allergies of her own, she hadn't fully escaped (Y/n)'s curse.

Bella reacted badly to detergents, lavender, plasters and was highly allergic to milk.

To look after his family, Evan had to scrub himself clean after each shift and he couldn't get into the jeep without making sure he'd had a shower first because his family often went in the jeep with him. He couldn't risk taking any allergens home with him and setting one of his girls off. It wasn't worth the risk.

He took every precaution he could to protect his girls.

***

(Y/n) paused wih her fingers dragging halfway through her damp hair when she heard the bathroom door open. Her head turned to look over her shoulder and she strained to try and hear the footsteps in the bathroom to decipher whether it was her husband or her daughter that had walked in.

A shiver rattled down her spine and sent goosebumps rising up on her skin when the shower door opened and Evan poked his head round the door.

"What are you doing?" (Y/n) took a step closer to the wall and pressed her lips together tightly to smother her laugh when he walked in to join her. She was relieved when he shut the door so the draft finally stopped and the water created another aroma of steam to circle around them.

She let her hand drop from her hair and her eyes closed automatically when his arms circled around her waist.

"Joining you." Evan tucked his face into (Y/n)'s neck and pressed his lips against her wet, burning skin. He felt the water drip down and flatten his curls and when it traced down the bridge of his nose and fell onto (Y/n)'s shoulder, he felt her shiver against him.

"Where's Bella?" (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked down when she felt Evan's hands curve round from her hips to grab and squeeze at her waist. His thumb brushed up and down her skin against the water cascading down around them and (Y/n) took a sharp breath when he suddenly bit down on her neck like a vampire.

"Organising the trucks in her room, she's happy."

He had just left Bella's room where she was sat on the floor, lining up, moving and re-organising all her toy fire trucks. Ever since Evan joined the station and told Bella what he did for his job, she had become infatuated and now the trucks were her favourite thing to play with. She would be more than happy and content for a little while if Evan snook away to find out where (Y/n) had got to.

He caught a glimpse of (Y/n)'s dazzling yet shy smile before she turned her head and buried her nose in his hair so she could kiss his damp forehead. The touch made Evan smile against her skin that he was still kissing and nipping at like he was doing his best to create bruises all along her neck.

Taking care to be slow, (Y/n) turned around so she was facing him and dragged her fingertips up his biceps and over his shoulders until she could cup the back of his neck. Her thumbs smoothed across the side of his jaw but she gasped as Evan's hands dug into her hips and he moved her back until she was pressed against the tiles.

They were like ice cubes sticking to her burning skin and the mix of hot and cold made her shake until Evan tilted his head down so their foreheads were pressed together. Most of the water from the shower trickled down the back of Evan's neck but the leftover droplets fell down his forehead and jumped onto (Y/n)'s skin.

She liked the way the water dripped down from his pale pink lips and jumped free from his chin. Each droplet made (Y/n)'s chest tighten until she pushed her hands against his neck and pulled him down to her level. Her fingertips stayed pressed into his skin as she connected his lips down to hers.

She sucked his lower lip between her teeth and gave a little bite until Evan growled and pulled her chest up against his.

His hands moved so he had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other moved to grip the underside of her thigh. (Y/n) could feel his fingertip pinching into her skin so he had a good grip and she squeaked when he hoisted her up. He kept her shoulders pressed against the tiles and pulled her leg until she took the hint and wrapped both legs around his hips so she was sitting on his torso.

"Evan…" She muttered his name against his lips and he seemed to swallow up her moans with deep kisses and a smirk that spread across his face.

"Don't you wanna christen the new bathroom?" His voice was deeper than before and his eyes were hooded and each drop of water that fell from his lashes mesmerised (Y/n). She could feel his chest vibrating with a mix between a growl and a laugh when all she could do was groan against his lips.

They had been in their new house all of a week and Evan was making it his mission to 'christen' each room in the house. The bathroom was next on his list.

"You're insatiable."

Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/n) grinned across at Evan who had his back to her and quickly grabbed his shirt he'd left on the floor. She pulled it over her head and moved to tie her hair up in a loose bobble since it was still dripping wet from their combined shower.

"I believe that's mine."

Adrenaline sparked in (Y/n)'s stomach and she gasped when Evan reeled his free arm out and coiled it around her waist, wrenching her into his chest causing her to stumble over her feet. Her fingers latched around his arm and she leaned her head back on his bare shoulder, smiling innocently up at him.

He looked rather comical, stood in front of the sink with only a towel wrapped around his waist and shaving cream smeared across his chin, upper lip and down his neck.

Evan dropped his other hand into the sink, dipping the razor in the water and he couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her when she smiled up at him like that. His fingers danced across her stomach and he rubbed his nose against hers, smearing the shaving cream across her lips and down her chin as she squirmed in his arm and wiggled against his chest.

"Evan," (Y/n) groaned and glared up at him, wriggling her bum into his crotch to irritate him before she shimmied from his hold and reached out for the hand towel. She knew he was only teasing and it wasn't as if his shaving cream was something she was allergic to. Evan's shower gel, shampoo and shaving foam were all non-fragrance and he got the basic sensitive ones so (Y/n) wouldn't have a reaction to any of them.

She swiped the cream from her face just as Evan hooked two fingers into the back of her leggings just above her bum and reeled her close again.

"You've already christened the shower, what are you aiming for next? The sink?"

"Wouldn't be the first time. Care to recall Maddie's thirtieth birthday party?" Evan teased as he began dragging the razor along his neck and up over his chin while he dipped his right hand into her leggings.

"I remember bumping into your mother on the way out that bathroom." (Y/n) scowled up at her husband when a cheesy grin appeared behind the shaving foam he was shaving away. That had been a good party, one of the best they had thrown and (Y/n) could barely remember most of that night.

But she did remember opening the bathroom door and walking straight into Evan's mother. With her hair skewed and coming loose from her bun, bite marks up and down her neck and Evan creeping up behind her to pull down her dress that was scrunched up around her thighs.

(Y/n) was never going through that kind of embarrassment again. She would much rather have an allergic reaction in front of Evan's parents than be caught in the act like that.

Whatever Evan was about to quip back with vanished when they both heard the doorbell ring.

"Door!"

"No, Bella don't open the door!" Evan hollered back as he dropped his razor in the sink and turned around as if he was about to go out and answer the front door himself. It seemed to dawn on him that he wasn't dressed yet, but it wouldn't be the first time he had gone to the front door like this.

He didn't want Bella answering the door. She was only four and it could be anyone at the door.

"I'll go," (Y/n) pecked Evan's bare shoulder and patted her hand against his bum before she unlocked the door and headed out the bathroom. She was the only one who was dressed.

She picked up the pace and hurried down the hall to catch up with her daughter who was hurrying down the hall with one of her miniature fire trucks in her hand. When she got within reach, (Y/n) swooped down and picked Bella up, setting her down on her left hip before she reached the front door.

(Y/n) couldn't think who it would be.

Evan said he wanted to introduce her and Bella to the team, but he was waiting until next week to do that when Bobby was throwing a barbeque. So it couldn't be any of the team coming round to introduce themselves. The only person who knew where they had moved to was Maddie since they had only just moved in this week.

(Y/n) plastered a smile on her face and opened the door a little apprehensively, tightening her arm around Bella when she realised she had no idea who was stood on her porch.

"Hello,"

"Hi neighbour. I'm Mark, I love two doors down and thought I'd come over and introduce myself."

(Y/n)'s lips parted but she stayed silent and a little shocked when the man took a few steps forward and walked inside without even being asked in. He had a plump but sincere smile that creased his eyes that looked rather uncertain and uneasy.

A small 'oh' left (Y/n)'s lips when Mark reached out and took (Y/n)'s free hand to give her a handshake, but he wasn't really looking at (Y/n). He was taking in the decore. They had been relieved when they moved in that the house didn't need much decorating. They painted Bella's room a mix of white and red as she requested, and Evan went round putting up shelves and pictures and hanging frames like they had in their old apartment.

In less than a week it already felt homely and cosy.

"I- I'm (Y/n), and this is Bella." Leaning over, (Y/n) gently placed Bella down to her feet and closed the front door when she realised Mark clearly wanted a conversation before he left.

"She's a sweetie. I've made a fresh batch of cookies, do you want one?" Mark showed the film-wrapped plate in his hand and motioned the plate towards Bella. Her eyes widened and she leaned up on her tiptoes to see what cookies were on the plate.

"That's very kind but she- oh, no she can't have those."

Pushing forward, (Y/n) reached her hand out and tried to gently nudge Mark's hand away when he offered a cookie out to Bella. She was only four and she didn't grasp the concept of not being able to eat certain things. Especially when (Y/n) and Evan got her special sweets and biscuits and cakes made without milk.

Bella presumed every food handed to her was automatically safe because she was being given it.

"Is it just you two?"

"No, my husband's here somewhere," (Y/n) glanced over her shoulder while Bella silently trotted over to the living room to sit down. She hoped Evan would hurry up and get dressed and come out to save her from this conversation. (Y/n) wasn't great with new neighbours. She never knew what to say or how to act. Evan was the boysterous, outgoing one. He fitted in with any crowd and could start up a conversation about anything.

Evan was the outgoing one, (Y/n) was the indoor, introverted one who hid behind his broad frame for safety and security.

Her hands fiddled together in front of her waist when she noticed how close Mark was standing to her. He was about her height, not nearly as tall as Evan who towered over her like a sky scraper.

Moving her hand to her mouth, (Y/n) pretended to rub her nose and did her best to take a deep breath. He was wearing some strong aftershave. Whatever aftershave he had on was one that was making it harder for (Y/n) to take a proper breath when it was flooding up her nose and tightening her chest.

Her eyes widened when she glanced down at her hand. He must have used hand sanitiser before he came round. The whole of (Y/n)'s palm was starting to swell and blotch. Hand sanitiser brought (Y/n) out in a rash, the rubbing alcohol usually made her skin burn and it wasn't good when it was the new social norm with Covid in the air.

"Evan… I'll just go find him."

"Are you okay? Oh, your hand. Let me-"

"No, no I'm… Evan,"

Panic jolted through (Y/n)'s stomach as she took a step back and kept both her arms coiled up against her chest. She couldn't stay standing this close when he was making it harder to breathe in a very, very bad way.

She could feel her panic crumbling into relief when her sights set on Evan walking down the hall. Without making up her excuses, (Y/n) headed to meet Evan halfway, bumping her nose into his chest with how fast she hurried to him.

His hands automatically moved to clamp down on her hips and he smiled as he pressed his lips against her temple, keeping her as close to his bare chest as he could. He'd grabbed a pair of pants and trousers to wear but since (Y/n) had stolen his shirt, he hadn't found another one yet. But his smile faltered against her temple and he leaned his head to the side when his eyes clocked on someone in the living room.

"Who's here?"

"New neighbour, I um… God, he's setting my allergies off." Tilting her head back, (Y/n) pressed her lips together and held her hand up for Evan to inspect. She watched the way his eyes scrutinised her palm and his hand came up to clamp down on her wrist, bringing her hand in for closer inspection.

"Oh baby. I'll get rid of him."

(Y/n) shivered when Evan brought her hand closer and kissed her palm before he turned her round to switch places, keeping her behind him so he could head into the hall and kindly show their guest the door.

"Hi, my wife said- oh, hey no no don't give her that!" Pushing forward, Evan leaned over the back of the sofa that pressed deeply into his abdomen and crunched his belt into his stomach.

As quick as anything, Evan swiped the cookie from Bella's hand just as the man handed it to her. Evan tossed it back on the plate that was on the coffee table before he reached over and gently held Ella by her sides. He effortlessly lifted her up and hoisted her over the back of the sofa so he could cuddle her into his chest. He didn't want her thinking he was mad at her because he wasn't, they were still trying to teach her what allergies meant and show her the foods and items she couldn't have or touch.

Evan kissed her temple and rubbed his hand up and down her back before he looked at the new neighbour who looked a mix between annoyed and perplexed.

"Thank you, but please don't give her anything. Bella's allergic to milk and most cookies are made with butter."

He leaned his cheek against the top of Bella's head but Evan couldn't fight off the unease in his chest when he looked over at the new neighbour. As if he would just come round and try to hand out food to someone else's child. A stranger no less. He had no idea what allergies Bella may or may not have or if certain foods might upset her or make her ill.

It was a nice gesture to bring food round to get to know them, but not to hand food out to their daughter when their backs were turned.

"Is your wife alright?" He seemed to completely miss the point and talk around the subject but Evan didn't have the energy to try and argue. He needed to keep civil because they were new and it wouldn't do them any favours to make enemies in their first week.

They weren't going to be going round to other neighbour's houses anyway, not with (Y/n) and Bella's allergies. The girls barely left the house which was how (Y/n) preferred things.

"I think your aftershave might be setting off her allergies, but she's okay. Thanks for dropping by." Evan tried to be as polite as he could manage but standing three feet away from this man didn't help Evan's own sense of smell. He could understand why (Y/n) could scarcely breathe around this man.

For the last six years Evan had stopped wearing all but one kind of aftershave and even then, he didn't use much of it to be safe. They used the same air freshner and laundry detergents and cleaning products that Evan had gone nose blind to them all. Now he had someone in his home who smelt like a perfume factory and with their home being like a scientific clean room, Evan wasn't too happy to have someone come in and set off his wife's allergies.

She should be able to breathe and be safe in her own home without any reactions.

Evan followed a few feet behind the new neighbour and walked him out, happy to shut the door behind him and sigh in relief. He turned his head to pepper a flurry of kisses against Bella's forehead until she squealed and shimmied around in his arms. She brought her hands up and cupped Evan's face so she could brush their noses together.

"So baby girl, what are we doing today?"

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #maddie buckley

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floralpascal · 1 year

Text

Firsts & First Names

Summary: In a night full of firsts with you, you accidentally slip and say Ghost's real name for the first time. His reaction to it surprises even him.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), edging, a hand on a throat but not really choking, secret relationship, little hints of agonizing over feelings, fluff

A/N: This was so difficult to write but, man, am I happy with how this turned out.

This series: Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

“You can take it, love. Just like that.”

You only moaned in response, your upper body melting farther into the mattress. Ghost had you on all fours as he pounded into you from behind, his hard grip on your hips holding you in place as he ruined you. He had kept you like this for hours now, bringing you to the brink over and over again, but never letting you fall over that precipice to find your release.

“P-please,” you begged, your words so slurred he could barely make out what you were saying. “Let me… let me come, I-”

In all your time together, he had never seen you like this. A sheen of sweat drenched your skin from the exertion, gleaming on the small of your back as you arched your ass back towards him. Your hair was wild from the sweat and hours he had fucked you in all different kinds of positions. Small, high whines escaped you with almost every thrust of his cock into you. Even so, you still reached for him and leaned into his every touch. You were fucked out of your mind, begging for him over and over, begging for him to let you come. You usually were never one to beg like this, to let him fully take the reins. Now you had completely let go.

He would be lying if he said that the sight of you like this wasn’t absolutely maddening. You were the most incredible thing he had ever seen. The trust you had in him, all the noises you couldn’t hold back anymore, and the way you begged for him to give you your release all had him feeling like he was floating in a sea of ecstasy.

“You can take a little more,” he assured, his voice low and breathless as he soothed you again. He fought to stave off his own high, but he had done well so far and still had quite a bit more time to go before he would break.

“Fuck, Simon, please!” You cried desperately, twisting the sheets tighter in your fists.

His lust-clouded mind took an extra second to catch up with what you just said. Suddenly, the air was punched from his lungs as he finally processed it. He froze immediately, his cock still buried deep in your heat.

Simon.

You had never called him Simon before. Ever.

Simon. Simon. Simon. He replayed the way you said it over and over, the sound unlike any he had heard before. You had said it like something good. Like he was someone you needed.

When you called him Ghost and he called you Styx, there was some degree of separation, a barrier between the two of you. You both could pretend this wasn’t anything real. By that logic, he hadn’t wanted to get to the point where you both used your real names because that would mean that this was real. He had wanted to keep this between Ghost and Styx — impersonal and no strings attached. Up to this point, he could pretend that it was impersonal. He could pretend that this wasn’t already something that had long surpassed that point. He had thought he wanted nothing more than to avoid hearing you say that one name.

But now that you had said it, a new heat burned in his stomach. All his previous resistance melted in its wake, his cock aching like never before. There was no logic or reasoning he could muster that could overpower the way his body practically lit on fire the second you said his name, almost like he had been hit by a bolt of lightning.

He liked it. He craved it. Even though he knew somewhere deep down that shouldn’t have, he would do anything to hear you say it again.

You pushed up on your forearms, turning your head so that you could see his almost completely covered face. Although they were still clouded by a thick haze of lust, your eyes were wide and panicked. Another first, he had never seen you this panicked, your demeanor never anything but calm and assured. It wasn’t hard to see that you clearly thought that you had crossed a huge line.

“S-sorry… I didn’t mean to-”

Before you could finish your apology, his rough, callused hands were sliding over your hips, wrapping around your middle, and pulling your top-half up so that your back met his chest, the both of you now in a kneeling position.

Simon took your chin in his fingers, guiding your face to him before he crashed his exposed lips to yours. You moaned into the kiss, clearly caught off-guard by his response. He worked his lips against yours, his fervor increasing with each passing second.

It wasn’t Ghost that kissed you now. That barrier, that persona, had crumbled away the second you said his name. No, it was the man under the mask now. While he still wore the mask over most of his face, he felt truly exposed to you for the first time.

He broke from the kiss, his lips still against yours. His hand slid down to your throat, his grip light. Aching with adrenaline and lust, he pulled his cock almost completely out of your dripping pussy before fucking up into you again with a sharp, pointed thrust that knocked the wind out of you as you cried out. He began to piston in and out again, restarting his pace.

“Say it,” he rasped, more a request than a demand. Now, he felt as if he was pleading with you. “Say it again.”

One of your warm hands wrapped around his tattooed forearm that held a soft grip on your throat, using him as an anchor. You tossed your head back so that it rested on his strong, broad shoulder, your whole body relaxing into him again as you realized that your slip had caused the opposite effect on him than you had first thought. This is how he wanted you, fully blissed out in his affections.

“S-Simon. Simon, please. Yes!”

Heat pooled in his abdomen as his speed increased. The force of his thrusts rocked the both of you, the bed groaning with the impact. He was totally gone now, all thought of edging you long forgotten. Now, he was all fervor and impulse, any rational thought long swept away in the thrum of adrenaline rushing through his veins. He needed you to come and he needed you to take you with him as fast as possible.

Then, without a care for the serious consequences that would follow, Simon moaned your real name for the first time. It rolled off his tongue like honey, like it had always belonged there.

You melted into his strong body, letting him hold the both of you up as you neared your highs. All the while, you continued to moan his name, sometimes a barely comprehensible whine. But it was enough. It was more than enough.

Suddenly, your body went rigid in his hold as you arched into him. Your cunt clenched and pulsed around him as you came, so tight that he moaned himself. He kept fucking you though it, helping you to ride out the aftershocks as he started to chase his own high.

You clawed at his forearm. While you writhed in his hold, you snaked a hand around behind you to lightly grasp at his neck, overstimulated but still holding on. It silently told him that you wanted to feel him when he came.

“Si… Si-” you sputtered.

As he fucked up into you, his hips snapping roughly against your ass, he began to feel the edge of his release. The force of it grew and grew until he couldn’t hold it back anymore, his pace faltering. His hips stuttered as he released his hot, thick cum into your spasming cunt. He buried his covered face in your shoulder as he grinded into you, releasing every last bit he had. Body shuddering, he fought to find his breath again, the orgasm longer and more intense than any he had ever experienced.

After he came back down from his high, he found you completely relaxed in his hold, spent from the hours you had spent taking him.

Simon kissed your neck, then your cheek, and then your lips, moving his hands to better support your midsection. He whispered against your warm skin, his voice gravelly and spent, “Did so fuckin’ good for me.”

Your chest still heaved for air as you leaned into his touch, making a tired, affirming sound.

Bracing his hands on your hips, he slowly and carefully pulled out of you. He held back a hiss as he did, listening instead to your whine. When you were ready, he helped guide you down to lay on the disheveled bed. Then he slid next to you and pulled you close, still left in the afterglow.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you both caught your breath in silence. For the first time, he felt your hand slide over his chest, your thumb lazily and affectionately stroking his skin. This was you. Without the added layer of Styx. The barriers of both of your personas were gone. Now, you were just as bare as he was.

Maybe this development should have scared him. Maybe he should’ve been worried about what this would mean for the two of you. But he didn’t. The worst part was that he didn’t think he would in the morning, either. Not when being with you felt like this. He now had a taste of what it was like and it was nothing short of addicting.

He couldn’t quite comprehend how you always seemed to break through the barriers he put up. No matter what front he used, you had a way of pulling him further and further into this anyways. He always fell deeper no matter what, throwing his previous hesitancy out the window. Whatever this was with you kept growing, kept becoming something more… and he didn’t know if he could stop it now.

More. He always wanted more.

He wanted this, he wanted you. Maybe if it weren’t for the dangerous life you lived and the ranks you held, it would’ve been easier for him to admit that. Maybe then the thought of a real relationship with you wouldn’t have been such a terrifying, weighted thought even now.

“I’m guessing you liked that, then,” you said, finally breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you.

“I can’t quite deny it, now can I?” he quipped, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

You laughed a genuine, carefree laugh, burying your face on his muscled and scarred chest. The sound filled his chest with a new warmth, one that was soft. He held back a small smile as he used his free hand to gently pull his mask down over his chin once again. Then, you looked up and said, “Yeah, not really. You really showed your hand on that one, Simon.”

He groaned, his cock twitching. He limply tapped your hip as he warned, “Fuck, don’t say it, I’ll get hard again. And I don’t think you can take another round, love.”

You laid your head on his chest then, completely limp over top of him. “No, I don’t think I could.”

Though he didn’t say it again, he let your name bounce around in his head. Over and over again, he considered it, looking down at you as he did.

Simon’s fingers found your back, running lightly up and down your spine. For the first time, he didn’t let himself ruin the moment. He didn’t think about the fact that he shouldn’t have let this evolve into something this personal. He didn’t think about the potential consequences. That was all for Ghost to reconcile in the morning. Right now, Simon focused on the way your damp skin rested on his, the steady rhythm of your breath, and the sweet glow that encapsulated you both. For now, that was all that mattered.

And for the first time, Simon stayed the night with you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #my writing

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giorno-plays-piano · 7 months

Text

Broken Boy

Pairing: soft!yandere!Midoriya Izuku x reader

Warnings: obsession, manipulation, past bullying, violence (against bullies), unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied stalking, one mention of hypothetical noncon, Izuku being a cinnamon roll and a menace at the same time, hurt/comfort.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: "Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.

P.S. Just giving some love to our best boi.

______________

When you see him, it's almost like every other Friday night when you grab a pizza from that corner cafe and come home to Izuku choosing a movie for you two to enjoy. It's been your favorite tradition ever since middle school, and you can't imagine spending the evening anywhere else.

Though maybe you should, given the circumstances.

Midoriya keeps chatting about work and the new equipment in his gym while you struggle to keep the conversation going. There are a lot of things on your mind, but your best friend's mental health is on the top of the list. Has been for a long time when you two had been younger, but you actually thought he got better with time. That is, until your work friend pointed out how unnaturally clingy he seems to the point when it's almost creepy.

He'd bark for you if you asked, she huffed, but, to your horror, you couldn't even find it in you to argue. In the end, she was right. When you look back at it, Izuku has been getting more and more possessive and insecure despite nothing seemingly changing in the relationship between you two.

Has something happened to him, and you missed it completely? You are confident it isn't his mom - your friend would often FaceTime with you around, and nothing at all hints at Midoriya's mom being distressed, you know her well enough to be sure. Is it work, perhaps? Personal issues?

Has someone started bullying him again?

You shiver from anger at the thought, clenching your fists. You would fucking end anyone who's troubling your ray of sunshine - like you had nearly done in middle school.

When you first met him, he was a new kid in your class, all skin and bones, awkward and shy and with no communication skills whatsoever. Took him about a day to become a target of delinquents you school was full of. They mocked him, drew on his desk, and threw a bucket of water at him once, but, as always, teachers didn't pay any attention to the bullying. You feel bad about it now, but since you had never seen it happen with your own eyes, you didn't think much of it either.

However, when one of the kids punched Izuku in the face to the point his nose started bleeding right in front of you, something in you snapped at the view of blood trickling down Midoriya's face. He was crying, hands up to prevent the kid from hurting him more, pleading the bullies to stop as if they'd listen. To this day, it infuriates you that someone would beat up a child this defenseless and lost: he was like an injured puppy, sobbing and trying to hide in the corner with his arms up to protect himself.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you flew to the bully and strated throwing punches at him like your life depended on it, repeatedly hitting him in the head and chest and everywhere you could reach before the other kids intervened. You were so enraged, though, you ended up fighting them, too, despite getting kicked in the ribs hard. The pain didn't stop you: it was like you turned into a whole different being whose only purpose was to hurt the bullies of a crying kid.

The teachers barely got a hold of you before you grabbed a chair to smash it against the back of one of the other children.

To this day, you wonder how Izuku awoke this raging beast inside of you: you had rarely gotten into fights, and, given your politeness and overall sweet demeanor, neither you nor anyone else had suspected you had it in you. Nevertheless, from that point on, there wasn't a day when you weren't there for Midoriya to kick the ass of whoever had the gall to torment him. Hell, the next time someone punched him, you went batshit crazy and almost pushed the guy off the stairs. Worse, you aren't the slightest bit sorry even now when you think of Izuku's swollen eye after he got punched again.

Gradually, it became better after you showed every stupid boy around what would happen if they did anything stupid to that awkward skinny kid, and Izuku was finally left alone. Naturally, it was no surprise he got so attached to you he spent nearly all his time somewhere around, going to the same after-school activities, picking same clubs, doing same things as long as he was able to stay close to you. You felt sorry for Midoriya: he was so nice it alone was enough for people to pick on him. How was he supposed to find friends? He'd stay a loner forever if you didn't do anything.

He wasn't hard to be around. Getting to know him better, you realized he was genuinely a very gentle and smart kid despite his antics and a weird addiction to superhero movies. Izuku was sweet and polite, holding a door for you like a gentleman, carrying your books, always laughing at your jokes, and even giving up his rice pudding he claimed he didn't like just to give it to you. How could you not like him?

It's been years since you both graduated from college, and he is still bringing you a rice pudding whenever you feel sad. You heart clenches as you think of him going through hard times again when you have no idea what's happening.

"Are you alright?" He suddenly asks, and you realize you've been staring at the wall for a minute, not replying to anything he just said.

God, this is gonna be painful.

"Are you alright?" Turning your head to face him, you ask, equally guilty and concerned.

Even though he tells you he is, giving you his brightest smile, you don't believe it. Izuku is very good at hiding his emotions when he's hurt.

"Talk to me," you ask, grabbing his palms in yours, and he visibly reddens at the sudden touch like a schoolboy.

You aren't fooled by this as you patiently wait for him to open up like always does when you want him to be honest with you, but Izuku just shrugs and says he's unsure what you're implying. Things are the same. Nothing has changed, nothing at all.

"Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.

Midoriya smiles and shakes his head. "No. My colleagues and my boss are very nice. You don't have to worry."

"I can't NOT worry!" You exhale, rubbing his hands in yours like you always do when you get nervous. "You seem so... alone. I don't even see your gym buddies anymore. Has something happened? Did you have a fallout or something?"

There it is, this gentle, heartbreaking smile he always gives you whenever you are worried. Izuku has never once told you that you are pushy and overbearing despite the fact that you were all that many times in the past. He just smiles at you like he's happy someone cares, and it makes you tear up at the thought. How could he be so sweet and kind and yet so unaware of his own worth? It feels like the world is so freaking unfair to him.

"I just don't spend that much time with them anymore," he says as he gets a little closer to you, cheeks blushing because he's such a pure soul, unspoiled and shy, "because you are my best friend. I wanna hang out with you. I thought you'd be happy about it."

It's nearly enough to make you freaking sob. What did you do to deserve this sweetheart? How could he stay such a warm, kindhearted guy after the treatment people gave him?

You draw a breath and look him dead in the eye. "Izuku, come on, I'm not going anywhere. Why on Earth do you think if you have other friends, I'll stop hanging out with you? Having more friends is a healthy thing! We can hang out together if you'd like."

It seems Midoriya doesn't like the idea, giving how he shakes his head, his expression darkening. You don't know what to make of it until he starts talking, not meeting your eyes, "No. What if you'll like my friends more than me? I've always felt like you liked those gym guys more than me. I hated it. Like they're better than me, and if they ask you to stop spending time with me, you'll choose them over me."

For a second, you're unsure if you've just misheard him. It takes you a moment to process his words. What the actual fuck?! Did he just suppose you like his gym bros you only ever met a couple of times more than him, your best friend who's been with you for years?

As you blink, a thousand questions form in your head in response to his accusation, but one thought prevails over others: Izuku is battling some serious demons inside his head. There is no way a sane person would ever suggest anything like that. He's really, really insecure. Insecure in a dangerous way. You can't believe you haven't realized it earlier, just blaming it on his weird social skills when Izuku clearly hasn't been alright. When did it even start? Has it always been like that, and you simply didn't see the signs? Is it because of his childhood traumas?

Of course, it's his fucking childhood traumas. Why else? You were literally the only kid around him. Of course, he's terrified of losing you, and that's why he's still glued to you like a child.

It hurts you thinking your best friend is struggling that much. He's such a good person. He could have been so much happier if not for the things he had to endure as a kid that damaged him.

"Izuku, I think you need help," you whisper quietly, heartbroken, clenching his hands in yours as he watches you with that soft smile on his face that only makes you more anxious. "Things you say, they're just... wrong. I'd never abandon you for someone else, but it's not normal to depend on anyone that much. You need help. What can I do for you?"

You are completely honest with him when you speak, wishing to do anything it takes to help him get better. Clearly, Midoriya needs therapy. You'll have to ask around and find him an adequate specialist, maybe even pay if Izuku's low on cash, but you can do it. He's your best friend. Even if your colleague is right and he'd do anything for you, you'd do anything for him either. That's what friends are for.

When Izuku lights up, you hope he'll accept your help, but instead, he says, "Just stay with me like this."

You blink again and sigh in frustration. Of course, he'll pretend like he's ok. He has always had.

Reaching out to him, you envelop him in a hug and bring his head to your chest despite how much bigger he is now compared to you. Izuku doesn't fight, eagerly wrapping his hands around your core like he waited for it to happen. You're fairly certain touch is his love language because he used to hug you almost every day when he was a kid. Sure, he did become more self-conscious once you turned older, but it didn't stop him from occasional cuddles.

"I'm not going anywhere, ok?" You repeat again to reassure him. "I'm here. I don't know why you're so fixated on the idea."

"But what if you're gonna meet some guy you'll fall in love with? Get married, have kids?" He mumbles, his breath warming your neck. "What about me then?"

Gently caressing his head to calm him down, you ask, "Well, aren't you gonna do the same? Don't you want to fall in love with some nice girl?"

He sighs loudly, head buried under your chin as he keeps clinging to you. "I've already had."

Eyes wide, you silently stare at him, but Midoriya doesn't stop cuddling with his face hidden from you like he doesn't want you to see him. What the hell? Is this a prank or something? What sort of a fucking rollercoaster is this evening?

You can't even believe he fell in love with someone. Seriously? And didn't even tell you? Who on Earth is this girl? Do you know her? How did they meet? Your head is ready to burst from the number of questions that only seem to multiple again and again with each sentence Midoriya says.

"But you never even hang out with anyone but me..." You start, furrowing your brows until Izuku is groaning in your chest, and it finally hits you.

He is talking about you.

You are the only girl he's ever cared about. The only person he's been close to. And he has always been nice, but also sort of exceptionally nice? Even your mom used to comment on how much he likes you, hinting at the evident crash he had for you, but you always thought it was just wishful thinking despite how much you'd liked him to be in love with you. Given how open he was, he would've already confessed, you thought. By the time you both turned into adults, you were pretty much convinced he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for you or no longer had them.

When in reality he might have fallen in love with you years ago and never fallen out of it.

It freaks you out that much your face is on fire. Fucking hell. How are you supposed to react? What are you going to say? You don't even understand how you are feeling about this. Do you like him? Sure, you absolutely do. But do you love him? Can you love him? He'll surely ask you to date now that the cat is our of the bag. And what are you going to say to that?

Instead, you try to direct your thoughts elsewhere and ask Izuku, swallowing a lump in your throat, "When did you f-fall in love with me?"

He mumbles something inaudible into your chest, and you have to grab his face and make him look at you despite how much you'd like the earth just to swallow you whole this very moment.

"When you first hit that kid for me, I think," he mutters with his face so red he resembles a ripe tomato.

Oh my god, you almost say to his face but manage to stop yourself, drawing a shaky breath instead. He's been in love with you all this time. All. This. Time. You are never going to live this moment down. Ever.

Your best friend had a crush on you for years, and you just blindly thought he was clingy for no reason aside from his loneliness. That he was just being moody when you went on a couple of dates in high school and talked to him about it. That he didn't date anyone himself because he's simply a very shy person and struggles to start a conversation with girls.

Were you being a huge moron to him all this time?

"You weren't supposed to find out this way," he grumbles, burying his head beneath your chin again. "I was preparing for a big reveal in a nice restaurant, and then we'd go on a trip, just the two of us."

You are so abashed you don't even have anything to say. Maybe you're actually dreaming right now on Midoriya's couch because only then it would all make sense. What the hell are you supposed to say? To feel? Your best friend has always been in love with you, and you had no fucking idea.

Again, not that you don't like him or anything. You do. Especially after he manned up a little, grew taller, and hit the gym, although you'd probably like him even if he still was 5"1 skinny as a rail guy with a baby face. It just feels weird to rapidly start developing these freaking intense feelings for someone you nearly considered a part of you.

While you're trying to somehow get out of this akward situation, your brain gives you the stupidest idea to make a joke, "Well, aren't we confident! Already planned a trip after confessing."

You almost feel him smile, but when he breaks the embrace to straighten and look you in the eyes, he has a sad expression on his face. "I'd try to convince you by any means possible I'd do anything for you. I was ready to grovel at your feet. I still am."

His words alarm you, and you immediately place your hands on his shoulders, causing him to smile again. You want to tell him under no circumstances he should do that to anyone at all, but Izuku keeps going before you can stop him.

"I mean it. I'd do anything. I'd let you hurt me. I'd let you rape me if you wanted to. I'd jump from the roof if you asked me. Whatever you want, I'll do."

Normally, a love confession would have made you happy, but the words he say break your heart instead, and your eyes are instantly wet before you even realize it. How could he say something like that? How could be so nonchalant about these things? Has he no regard for himself as a human being? No pride? No pity? How can he talk about being alright with you hurting him if only it meant you'd date him? How could be genuinely be fine with a thing like this?

'I'm sorry!" He apologizes immediately when tears start streaming down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset you, I swear! I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

You are fully sobbing now, clenching his stupid Captain America sweatshirt you got him last Christmas. This is so fucked up. How could he be okay with you doing these things to him? Why would he even go that far?

You can't stop yourself from embracing him once more, hugging him tight as your head rests on his broad shoulder. Midoriya doesn't protest, his gentle, warm hands already caressing your back as you sniffle.

"Izuku, you need help," you sob, soaking his sweatshirt, oblivious to his smile growing wide when you don't see his face.

Gently rocking back and forth like he's trying to calm down a child, he whispers to you softly in response, "Then will you stay and help me?"

It's such an innocent ask you have no second thoughts saying yes immediately because you better fall down the roof yourself than leave your friend in this state, and you don't even think about Izuku manipulating you into being with him. How could he? He's a cinnamon roll to the core. He's so good and pure it's dangerous for him to be left alone. Besides, you like him anyway, don't you? It's not like everything will change so much in a heartbeat. He's still your friend, still the closest to you. He'll always be. He just needs your help, and you can't say no when he's been so traumatized and really needs help.

Izuku knew you'd say yes, anyway.

__________

Tags: @yanderetodorokishoto @minshookie29

#yandere #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #deku bnha #deku x reader #bnha deku #bnha #my hero academia

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nyehilismwriting · 7 months

Note

hello! maybe “comb” or “shunt” for nash? thank you!

minor violence/surgery mentions here. set very early on after ivi's implantation :-)

Their eyes are flat. Cold. Intent, alight with focus, and as their fist skims past your nose, you can see a flash of real anger, their usual aura of barely-restrained irritation distilled into something colder.

Angrier.

You throw a half-hearted punch that they bat away without breaking eye contact, and you slide back, letting them stalk after you. You’re distracted, half your attention focused on the newest acquisition to your body, the point of cold you keep thinking you can feel nestled against your cerebellum.

Come on, come on-

An elbow to your ribs that you just barely block, a punch to the diaphragm that you twist away from at the last second and return with a knee to the groin; they drop their hip and you catch the meat of their thigh instead, a moment of brief warmth as you connect with their muscle before you dance back, raising your hands.

Come on.

Your head hurts. The lights are too bright; you can hear the fluorescents humming. Your eyes keep shifting out of focus, the world snapping in and out of shape. For a second, Nash is doubled, two of them stepping towards you with murderous expressions - and then there’s just one, and they’re hooking a hand around the back of your neck-

-and you snarl, animal instinct taking over as their fingers graze the still-tender skin. The incision is healed, fast-acting skin grafts and electrostim therapy taking care of that; it’s just your brain that needs to get with the programme, stop flinching every time your collar brushes the operation site.

Or your asshole partner grabs it.

You catch their hand with a growl, twist it outwards. There’s nothing but silence in your head, no AI assistance to thank - or blame - as you throw a sharp jab, retaliating in kind. They’d been grabbing with their left, pulling you down to meet their dominant hand.

It leaves their shoulder - the web of new scars, still raised and red - vulnerable. Your knuckles connect squarely with barely-healed tissue, no fancy healing for them. The impact travels up your hand, your knuckles splitting against their collarbone, bones shuddering with the impact - you hadn’t expected to hit them so hard.

They hadn’t expected it either - their eyes widen, body curling in on itself, and you can see the blood drain from their face as they stumble back, gripping their shoulder.

“Shit- Nash-”

You’re up in their space, reaching for them, hands towards their shoulder, trying to check. Bloodless, ashen, they straighten, lips peeling back.

“Fuck off-” they snarl, harsh and angry, and their own hands are warm as they close over your shoulders and shove, send you stumbling away.

The two of you face each other across the training floor, hands raised. Theirs are shaking. Yours are steady. The incision behind your skull throbs, your fingers tingling. Sweat drips between your shoulderblades.

You’re distantly aware of the Commander, watching you; of the cameras overhead. The Director’s gaze, cold and heavy even absent as she is. You wonder how your performance is - whether there’s any difference. You don’t feel anything new, beyond the dizziness.

Dizziness, and a slow-building fury at the way Nash is looking at you..

The AI is silent. You grit your teeth, and taste metal, the bitter sharp of painkillers. Nash slowly drops their hand from their shoulders, their eyes never leaving yours. Their fists are clenched.

You’re not sure who moves first, but this time around, neither of you pull your punches.

#snippets #tee hee #anon

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 1 year

Text

For a long time, Max was the only person who could speak fluent Billy Hargrove. She first learned out of necessity. Out of fear that if she didn’t interpret signals correctly, she’d be swept up in a storm of rage.

At some point, it became less about avoiding tantrums and more about… giving her brother space.

They haven’t lived under the same roof for the better part of a year now. Things are different. Things are better, even, but when she sees him stalking around the trailer with his shoulders tensed and eyebrows drawn together, she decides that maybe things aren’t all that different.

He’s not punching holes in walls or picking unnecessary fights, but his fuse still looks particularly short.

She stays sat between Lucas and Dustin on the sofa, neither of whom seem to have noticed her brother’s decline in mood, and continues munching on popcorn. Hopes that the volume of the tv and the sounds of crunching don’t awaken a bitter rage in him.

Eddie doesn’t seem to share her feelings when he bounds inside, letting the door clap on the frame behind him as he sweeps his hair back into a ponytail. Max winces at the noise and shrinks in her seat.

Readies herself for the familiar, inevitable sound of arguing from the kitchen.

Instead, she hears Eddie chuckle.

“Hey, sourpuss,” he says.

Despite the guarded stance that Billy takes, Eddie moves closer. Either because he’s too stupid to notice or simply doesn’t care. Maybe both.

Every warning signal and siren is going off in Max’s brain as Eddie reaches out. She watches Billy’s fists clench at his sides and how his jaw tightens as slender arms wrap around his shoulders.

She comes to terms with the fact that she’s probably about to watch Eddie die until Billy just… sags into the hug.

“Tough guy just needs some lovin’, huh?” Eddie teases.

He cradles the blond close, smiling when Billy nuzzles into the crook of his neck. Billy grumbles something incoherent. Sets his hands on Eddie’s waist and leans harder into him when the brunet cards a hand into his hair.

The display has Max reeling in her seat.

Maybe she’s lost her touch. Maybe she doesn’t speak Billy as well as she thought she did. The thought kind of bums her out, surprisingly.

Eddie traces his fingers lightly down Billy’s spine and provokes a shiver. Has him melting in a matter of seconds like he’s as good as putty in Eddie’s hands.

When Billy shifts against him and lays his head down on his shoulder, Max catches a glimpse of his expression. Sees how tired he suddenly looks.

It occurs to her then that maybe he never looked angry in the first place, just… tense.

It also occurs to her that she hasn’t lost understanding of her brother — she still knows him perfectly well. At least, the image of him in her head that she has from a year ago.

He’s speaking an entirely new language now.

A year ago, balled fists meant something was bound to be broken, whether it be a nose or a skateboard. Now it doesn’t seem to mean that at all.

Eddie seems convinced that he was never in any danger, judging by the way that he’s plastering kisses into messy curls.

That speaks for itself.

“Want me to make you a sandwich or something, moody?” Eddie coos. “I bet it would make you feel better.”

“‘M not moody,” Billy mumbles.

Eddie chuckles.

“Do you want the usual stuff on your sandwich?”

There’s a pause. Billy sighs, accepting defeat.

“Yeah…”

It’s like, in a matter of moments, Eddie has completely dismantled him. Like some kind of snake charmer or something. Alligator whisperer or what have you.

No swearing or arguing or popped neck veins in sight.

Max can’t hear whatever it is that Eddie whispers to him next, but it has the blond cracking a smile as he leans back. They share a kiss. Then another, and Billy is giggling when Eddie doesn’t let up after a few more pecs.

By the time they part, Billy’s face is flushed pink and he’s grinning like an idiot.

Eddie admires him for a moment before he marches over to the refrigerator, leaving him standing next to the counter. Softened like butter on a warm countertop.

Though Eddie Munson was the last guy Max expected to take on the title of Billy’s handler, she’s happy that he did.

On second thought, she’s glad that she isn’t the only one who speaks her brother’s language anymore.

She’s glad someone finally understands him.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #max mayfield #hope this doesn’t seem too copy and paste from some of my other stuff #I just really like the idea of max seeing how billy interacts w his partners #really I like to make him an unsuspecting sweetheart #he’s getting better and that’s all that matters #ficlet #my writing #not edited

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sketchyslushies · 5 months

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Posting this here bc it’s the only place where ppl ik irl don’t follow me!!

Seabound fic!!! Kinda angst ig? It’s my first time writing a fic so don’t judge too bad ><

Kinda spoilers for Seabound!!! And mainly Jay and Kai w a bit of Cole (not shipping!)((ok maybe VERY MINOR lava coded)) (((like blink and you miss it)))

“She was my SISTER.”

Kai snapped, his eyes glaring straight at Jay. A silence fell over the ninja, none of them really knowing what to say. They’d never admit it, but they were useless without Nya. The team had struggled to stay civil in the beginning, and the cracks were starting to reform. It was only when Nya had become a ninja when they started realizing their groups potential. Kai’s stare stayed sharp on Jay, Jay looking back with his nervous yet persistent eyes. Kai just didn’t understand. He didn’t care. He didn’t know Nya like Jay did. He didn’t love her like Jay did. No one did. The others had gone back to normal life, albeit separated. But Jay, he stayed behind. He waited for her to come back. He knew that she would.

Jay would never know this, but Kai cared about Nya more than he cared about himself. If he really thought about it, he had practically raised Nya. She was his little sister, the reason he kept going when he had lost everything else. She was his light in the dark, the reason he even became a ninja in the first place. But he was too proud to say that, too arrogant to admit it.

“You didn’t even cry at her funeral.” Jay said, his electric eyes finally looking away from Kai’s. The other ninja all glanced at each other, stuck between interfering and letting Jay and Kai settle this themselves. It had only been a year since they all last saw each other, yet you’d assume they’d never met before. Tension spread throughout the room, thick enough to cut it with a knife. “It’s like you wanted her dead.”

“Jay, that’s enough.” Cole said, stepping in front of Kai to try to stop any more discourse. Jay was even dumber than everyone thought if he was purposefully egging Kai on. “We all miss Nya, and fighting about it won’t bring her back.” Jay looked away from Cole, scoffing, but backing off. Even he knew he was going too far.

“Whatever,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. “I’m going back to the lighthouse, it’s not like we’re doing anything anyway.” Jay reached for the mechanical door’s button, a hot flame burning his hand. “Ow! What the hell?!” He turned around to see Kai, his aim still good as ever. “What was that for, asshole!?” Jay sneered, not noticing Kai’s obvious anger rising. He walked up to Kai, pushing Cole out of the way. His words came out in a jumbled mess. “I seriously don’t get your problem, Kai. You didn’t give a shit about her when she was alive, and you clearly don’t care now that she’s gone. You’re just upset someone’s finally pointing out the fact that you only care about yourse-“

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up?!” Red screamed, punching Blue in the face. Jay fell to the ground, unable to react quickly enough before Kai threw in a few more punches. “You have no idea,” he shouted, “no FUCKING idea how much I care about Nya! Shut your stupid ass up before you say something you don’t know anything about!” Kai’s stature towered over Jay. Sure, he was only a few inches taller, but he was stronger and Jay knew he wouldn’t be able to do much held down to the ground. The other ninja wanted to step in, but couldn’t help but feel like Jay deserved this a bit. They really did all miss Nya, they just didn’t mourn like Jay did. He just didn’t get that. Kai’s fist would meet Jay’s bloodied face just a few more times before Kai paused. Just as he was about to land another punch, he stopped himself. Something he’d never done before. Jay looked up at Kai, noticing a difference in his expression. His dark red eyes were watering. His face stuck between anger and sadness. Jay felt a droplet of water fall onto his face. Was Kai…crying? That can’t be right. Kai’s never cried before. Was there even enough water in his system to do so? The team kind of just assumed his body heat had been too hot to manage water, but never really questioned it. Jay quickly scurried away from under Kai, leaving him still stuck in a punching position. He wiped his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. “I loved Nya more than anything in the world, Jay. I did. She was all I had for YEARS. Do you know how much it destroyed me when she left? How much it bothered me when everyone asked how YOU were doing? How YOU were handling her death? No one asked me how I was feeling with my sister dying,” he sniffled, rubbing his eyes and looking towards the ground. “I had to keep it together. If not the team, but for me. I was the face man, the cool one. A little loss wouldn’t do much to me, they said.” His voice warping in and out of a whisper and a sniffle. “I would do anything to get her back, Jay. You don’t even know how far I’d go for her.” Jay had never seen Kai like this. None of the ninja had. The fire ninja, the most dramatic of them all, looked so small in this moment. So vulnerable. His tear stained face was hardly visible to the team, yet everyone could tell exactly how he looked.

Jay stood up and stumbled towards Kai. His bruised body was staggering, struggling to keep upright. He kneeled by Kai, getting to his level. Cole and Zane carefully kept close, just in case Jay was about to get his revenge. Instead, he positioned Kai’s shoulders up to get him to sit upward. He got a really clear view of Kai’s face, his eyes and nose red, his tears smudging the dark eyeshadow he swore he didn’t have on. Jay wiped his tears away, before punching him back in the cheek. Cole practically ran up to Kai. After all, he did always have a soft spot for his firecracker. But, before he could stop Jay from hitting him again, the smaller boy pulled the bigger one into a hug. Blue’s arms wrapped around Red, a small voice muttering out a simple, “I’m sorry.”

Eyes wide open, Kai was surprised. Before he could say anything, he subconsciously tightened his grasp around the curly haired ninja, digging his face into his dark curls and letting his tears fall.

“I hate you.”

Hope it was an ok read!! Lmk how you liked it/id there’s anything I can work on!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #jay ninjago #kai ninjago #ninjago fic #lego ninjago fanfic #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago seabound #angst #short fiction #short story #fanfic #lavashipping #ninjago angst

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agent-barnes40 · 4 months

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Can't Catch Me Now

Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3

13th Doctor x Reader (platonic by Reader, Romantic by Doctor)

Dhawan!Master x Reader (Romantic)

The Truth Comes out

Canon Divergence

4,263 Words

The Doctor focused in on The Master, her eyes drifting over to you every few seconds. "How are you here?"

You had to bite back the groan building in your throat. You noticed Ryan watching and you smiled a bit toward him. "Doc, you need to take Koschei's hand."

The Doctor's eyes landed on you and you held your hand out. "Or you can take mine."

"Why should I?"

You pulled away from The Master's side and walked a small bit over to her. "Because you trust me more than you do him, and right now I sincerely think that it is in your best interest to take one of our hands."

"Then answer me this, how did you connect Gallifrey to that boundary?" The Doctor asked, focusing on you.

"I can't answer that right now, Doc. I can answer it later. Koschei's getting irritable and the human's lives are on the line." You snapped, reaching out to grab her hand, tightening your grip on her.

The Doctor struggled as you handed her arm over to The Master. "Do not hurt her more, Kosh. I will force you to regenerate."

You had walked ahead from The Master and The Doctor, taking in the destruction and view of the capital city of Gallifrey. You heard the silence behind you and you turned to look at the two. The Doctor was clenching her fists while The Master had a deranged smile on his face, like he was egging The Doctor on. "If you make her punch you, I will literally cheer!"

"Oh come on, love, no love for my destruction?" The Master called back towards you.

"No love for you egging her on. She can snap, and it'll hurt, she's incredibly strong." You said, leaning against a burnt wall.

The Doctor looked between the two of you. "What happened to you, Sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "Found out the truth, that's all."

"The truth about what?" The Doctor asked.

You didn't miss the look The Master had as you took a deep breath, and met The Doctor's eyes. "About me."

"What do you mean about you? Your human, you come from the planet Earth, Sheffield. You have parents. There is nothing missing from the truth!" The Doctor said, and you held your hand up, stopping her from continuing on.

"Yeah, that's what a perception filter and shoving my memories behind a very tight block in my brain does. Be glad I'm not like him right now, or we'd all be in a very very different situation, Doctor." You snapped, pushing off the wall to walk over to her.

"We are very much more alike than you'd like, Theta. Abandoned, shoved to Earth, and forced to forget things." You were in her face now and she leaned back.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor asked as you pulled back.

"Spoilers, Sweetie."

You watched as The Doctor and The Master circled each other, practically at each other's throats. "Kosh, did you really have to include the Cybermen?"

"Don't interrupt, love."

"Don't talk to them like that!"

You groaned and stepped up, pushing the two apart. "Lets start with me, and then get on with her. That way its easier for her to deal with one thing at a time, too much causes her to panic. You can deal with the Cybermen while I talk with her."

The Doctor watched as you diffused the situation and gently shoved The Master toward the arch way. The Master got ready to interrupt and you pointed. "Come on, Master. Just let me be the one to tell her this part."

The Master held his hands up and backed out of the room. You stepped back and sat down on the steps, running a hand through your hair. "Lets start with your questions."

The Doctor moved to sit next to you and she grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your head. "Who.. Or What are you?"

"I'm not human, that's for sure. Do you remember the headache I got?" You asked, looking over at her and squeezing her hand.

"Yeah, The Master caused that."

You laughed softly and shook your head. "No. That was the Time Lords. I'm from the planet Gallifrey, I don't know how long I've been on Earth, that got fuzzy."

"So you're like me?" The Doctor asked, tightening her grip on your hand.

"That's great! We can travel forever!" The Doctor continued, and you looked over at her, your eyes filled with tears.

"Doc, I'm gonna go on my own after this. I've got a TARDIS at my disposal, I can take it and go. We'll bump into each other but I can't travel with you anymore."

"Why? Two Time Lords are better than one in a TARDIS and I can teach you how to fly Sexy."

A laugh burst from your throat, but it was strangled and you reached up to wipe at your face. "Damn, human emotions. I always hated crying before."

"Before?"

"Back when I thought I was human. I hate crying." You looked over at her and she put a hand on your cheek and you smiled softly.

"If The Master had never intervened in my life, I'd still be stuck on Earth. O-Or with you. I'd be just as confused as the rest of them. I would've found this out with you, here. That was the original plan, according to him. He was never supposed to get attached, just keep an eye on me, to get me to you."

You could hear those familiar foot steps and you let go of The Doctor, getting up. "I was supposed to be in this machine, with you. We were going to find out about me and you at the same time and then he got attached. He knew about me the whole time, that's why I was tossed out of the car. That's why I connected easily with you. We are the same but different, Doctor."

"I knew you my entire human life. That mysterious man who saved humanity over and over, with his blue box. The Queen even talked about you. I wanted to be you! And here I am, on my home planet with no clue who my parents were, because of your stupid rivalry with him! The Master always has to one up you or hurt you in some way and I lost everything I wanted when he broke open my memories. I didn't get the privilege of the watch like you both got. I'm stuck with no answers while you will sit here and get both. You get to find out who you are. Have fun, Doctor. I'll see you later."

You kept an eye on the door while you held your hand out, lowering your voice. "I need your sonic. Hand it over. If you want the Fam to stay safe, then give it to me."

She quickly dug in her pockets and pulled out her sonic screwdriver and you shoved it into your pocket, right as The Master turned the corner and you gripped The Doctor's wrist and pulled her back up onto the platform. "Don't move, Doc. It'll be a bit less painful this way."

The Master cleared his throat and you turned and shot him a smile. "I got my anger out. It's your turn, love."

The Master walked over and smiled, pressing a kiss to your head. "My lovely, lovely partner. Look at you. All confident and powerful, holding The Doctor hostage. Could you ever imagine the power like this when you thought you were human?"

"I could've become an officer, like Yaz." You shot back, leaning into his touch as The Master rested his hand on your back.

The Master chuckled and stepped away from you. His hand slid away from your back and you stepped back. "I was thinking, I could go explore while you two hash it out. I've never seen Gallifrey before and I'll stay here in citadel."

The Master thought for a moment but you had already took off. The Time Lord shook his head and moved the communicator to lock The Doctor in place. "Paralysis field."

You took off through the Citadel halls, rushing for where that spare TARDIS was and hopped in, you ran off instinct, rushing to work on getting the machine turned on and coordinates punched in. You may haven't been human but the Fam were still your family and you weren't going to leave them to die.

You held onto the console as the TARDIS flew, and then you landed and popped your head out, seeing 4 Cybermen surrounding Ethan and you pulled the Sonic out of your pocket and pointed it at them. "I am The Doctor and--"

You stilled in terror as one of the Cybermen pulled their head off and Yaz had a big smile. "Hi guys!"

You took a deep breath and shook your head. "Get out of there!"

Graham pulled the Cyberman head off of him and the other two did as well and you laughed. Ryan, Ko Sharmus, and Ethan stared at you with uneasy eyes. "You took off with The Doctor and The Master. Now, your here saving us."

You smiled and shrugged. "Uh, we don't time for me to explain. Ashad's on Gallifrey with Theta and Koschei."

You could tell no one believed you and Ryan was the one to voice that. "How can we trust you?"

"Take my pulse." You said and held out your hand, showing the inside of your wrist.

"I'm a time lord, from the planet Gallifrey. I was sent to Earth when The Doctor saved my planet from the Time War and put it into a bubble universe. I do not know how long I was on Earth, but what I do know is I don't betray my family. My Fam, it took a bit and bit of help from Jack and The Master but I figured it all out in the end. Now please, please I have to go save the people I love and I'm going to need help because I don't know if The Master will stop at the truth like he did with me."

"Why the pulse?" Yaz asked and you chuckled.

"Two hearts! Double heart beats. Now please, help me save The Doctor. Please."

Graham had already moved to your side, nodding. "The Doc has always said to give second chances."

"They've betrayed us multiple times! We've given them multiple chances, what's going to happen after this?" Yaz protested.

You looked at her and smiled softly. "I leave. I've already told The Doctor. I'm hopping in my box and I'm gonna go, save the universe, something. I know I don't have a future with you all after this especially after everything I've done, and all the lying."

You smiled at Graham and started to move into The TARDIS. "Now, get in if you want to save the woman who can save us."

You rushed into the matrix hall, stilling at the sight of The Doctor on the ground. "Koschei, is this all from.."

The Master looked up at you and he held your stare and you looked away, feeling that familiar prod in your mind. "You took off, love. Took a TARDIS and took off."

You looked back at him. "Yeah, a joyride! C'mon, like your old girl and Sexy would've let me pilot them?"

You could tell you were reaching on thin ground and you took a step forward, looking down at The Doctor, before looking back at The Master. The Doctor had tried to roll to look at you, and you could barely keep her stare. The Master stood up and looked toward the upper level. "Tecteun wasn't the only one who could experiment."

"Master, what did you do while I was gone?"

"A whole new race could be created."

Your hearts felt like they dropped. "You didn't.."

The Master looked at you. "I did love, you're so smart. Now, lets have The Doctor catch up."

The Doctor just stared in horror as The Master smiled. "Time Lord organics, with the ability to regenerate and self-repair, Cyber armor. Invincible. The perfect army, right? Right? Come in my pretties."

You and The Doctor watched as the Cybermen came marching in and you had to take a deep breath, a hand shakily moving to cover your mouth. Thoughts were rushing through your head. Any of them could be from your parentage, any of the Time Lords in those cyber suits could've been related to you.

The Master pointed one of the Cybermen out and then pointed to another one. "Shoot him!"

The Cyberman didn't move to shoot and The Master angrily ran a hand through his hair, his other hand pointing still at the Cyberman that was going to be shot at. "SHOOT HIM!"

You flinched as the Cyberman shot and you looked away. The Master grabbed your chin and forced you to watch. The shot Cyberman glowed and then stood back up. The Master looked over to The Doctor.

"Behold, your CyberMaster's Doctor. All born from you and being led by me. How does it feel?" The Master asked.

The Doctor looked between you, The Master, and then The CyberMasters. You could only stare at The Master, as he pulled away from you and headed back toward the hallway, where you had left The Fam. You knew they could protect themselves. They can handle themselves.

"Can you both feel a new era dawning?" The Master asked, before disappearing down the hallway.

You took a deep breath and kneeled down next to The Doctor, pulling her sonic back out and pointing it up, trying to break the paralysis field. "You need to stay conscious, Doc. I need you. The Fam needs you. Can you do that for me?"

You broke the paralysis field and gently took her face in your hands. "I need you to help me, Doctor. I don't know how to do this all on my own, I haven't lived as long. I don't know how to stop him, I don't know if I've just condemned the last of humankind to die by his hands, I don't know if I've just sent our friends to their deaths by needing their help to save you. I need The Doctor. I need you."

The Doctor raised a hand up and pressed it to your cheek, like she had done just hours before and you smiled and sniffled softly, not realizing you had started to tear up. The two of you hadn't heard the sound of footsteps.

"Hey, you two." Graham said, softly and you finally pulled away from The Doctor's stare to look over at him. You physically deflated from the relief.

"Oh thank The TARDIS, you guys are alright." You chuckled at the sight of everyone, closing in on the two of you.

You, Yaz, Graham, and Ryan helped pull The Doctor into a sitting position as she looked at all of you.

"My Fam." Her voice was hoarse and you winced, you had placed her there, and didn't even fight The Master on that decision.

You watched as she started to jolt back to normal, like she was running on a whole new regeneration. Her eyes scanned and caught the sight of Ko Sharmus, Ravio, Ethan, and Yedlarmi.

"Are we having a party?" The Doctor asked before groaning and grabbing at her head and you grabbed at her waist, to keep her steady.

"Lets give her a minute guys. Let her catch up." You said, turning to look at The Fam, and then to the others behind you.

You watched as her brain was catching up, replaying everything that had happened and her eyes recaught the sight of The Fam and the humans behind you. "You guys shouldn't be here. No humans on Gallifrey."

"That's my fault doc. Needed all the help I could get. Anything for you." You said, slowly pulling away from her to give her more space.

Ko Sharmus shifted. "We have explosives."

You turned to look at him. "Is that what you brought onto my TARDIS?"

"You didn't complain then."

"I had a Doctor to save, okay." You shot back, although your voice wasn't angry. You had been massively distracted barely two hours ago.

Ryan raised his hand a little bit. "We have a plan too!"

Graham spoke up. "The Cybership's parked itself in the middle of your home town. Its ripe for blowing up."

"We're gonna strategically place bombs around the ship, including some close enough to the core." Ravio said, looking at the other humans.

You and The Doctor looked at each other. "Its a good enough plan, but the CyberMaster's will survive anything."

It was like your brains had clicked together. Ashad, something had to do with him.

"What did the Cyberman say?" The Doctor asked.

"'The death of everything is within me.' That's what he said." You responded back.

"But what does it mean?"

Ravio and Yedlarmi looked at each other.

"There's a myth around him." Ravio started,

"The death particle." Yedlarmi continued.

"The legend is: he, it, whatever, has, a particle, in a tiny chamber inside its chest. It will take out all organic life on a planet." Ravio finished, the two looking over at you and The Doctor.

"That's grim." Ryan spoke up.

"Or its a solution." You said, starting to get up.

"One of us can get him to explode, and it wipes out the CyberMaster's." You had cut the Doctor off, your brain already finishing on the plan.

"Only if you've got a way off the planet, before it implodes." Ko Sharmus snapped.

"I'll go after Ashad. Doc, you get everyone in place with the bombs." You said, rubbing a hand over your face while the other pulled her sonic out of your pocket, to hand it back to her.

"No. No you aren't." The Doctor ordered and you looked back at her.

"I'm the one who sided with The Master, I'm the one who let this get this far. If I can fix the mistake I made by trusting him, then let me. I get to save the fam, humanity, and you in one go." You snapped, turning to fully face her.

"I'm not leaving you behind." The Doctor grabbed at your hands and you took a deep breath.

"You aren't gonna leave me behind. I'm gonna be in your head, your hearts, and still in your TARDIS because Sexy's not gonna forget me. You have a whole new life awaiting you, Doctor, with all the new knowledge you have. You can go hunt down Tecteun, figure out what The Division is. I can stay here and finish what I started with The Master. I can end this for good." You squeezed her hands and then looked over to The Fam and the others.

"You guys get the bombs set, get her out of here, and make sure she doesn't try to come back for me." You said, smiling at them all.

You let go of her and stepped away, pushing the Sonic into her hand. "My TARDIS is where I left it. Get her to my TARDIS. It should register the danger and take you all to Earth. You all get a chance at life, a normal life in the 21st century and The Doctor can take my TARDIS to pick up Sexy."

You took a deep breath and started to leave the room when Graham grabbed at your hand. "Your seriously going let yourself die, for him?"

"I'm going to die to save you. I was one of you guys for what feels like a lifetime and I wouldn't change it for the world, I wouldn't change the year or so I've had with all of you. I know I wasn't myself for parts of it, thanks to The Master bein' in my head, but I'm so glad I got to experience it all with you guys." You squeezed Graham's hand, turning to face them.

"Now, as a your friend, I'm asking you to let me go. Let me do this so I can feel like I've fixed the problems I've caused, even though i know it wasn't my fault. You all are humanity's finest, staring in the face of danger and not moving. Humankind couldn't be prouder and I know The Doctor is just as proud. Now let me make my species proud, and avenge them because I don't remember where I came from, I don't remember much but you guys are my family and I would rather die then let you all die, and that includes you, Doctor. You are my fam. My family." You let go of Graham and took off.

You had found Ashad, just not the Ashad you were hoping for. You held him in your hand and sighed, shoving him into your pocket. You'd have use for him, you could just feel it. You closed your eyes.

'Contact'

'Contact! What are you doing?'

'He shrunk Ashad. I think he has the Cyberium, Doc.'

'Meet up with us, I'm sure we can all figure out a solution together.' 'Yeah, a solution where you probably shove me into my TARDIS and send me back to the 21st century while you die. I wouldn't be able to live with that.'

You stilled at the sound of thumping and rushed to hide, abruptly cutting off the connection with The Doctor and slid into a little hide away. You held your breath, a fantastic new feature you had figured out with finding out who you were, you had a respiratory bypass, meaning you could hold your breath for awhile.

You watched as the Cyberman went passed and you slipped back out, rushing towards the Matrix room. The Master was always planning to go back that way, you just had that feeling. You ran into The Doctor who grabbed at your arms, you just stared at her.

She smiled softly at you and pulled Ashad out from your pocket. "Go to your TARDIS. Now."

You shook your head. "No."

You could feel the emotions of the day building up and you couldn't stop the tears this time, as they built up in your eyes and you could feel your throat closing up. "I can't let you make this sacrifice when I'm the reason he started this in first place, love."

You shook your head again at her words. "I can't lose you, the universe can't lose you."

The Doctor's hand slid down your arm, to grab your hand. "Then you be The Doctor in my stead, you can go by whatever title you want, just keep saving lives. Can you do that for me?"

You just stared at her. "The Fam is waiting, now go."

The Doctor pushed you toward the TARDIS and you hazily, like you were barely there, stumbled toward the TARDIS and you barely noticed Ko Sharmus passing you. You slid into the TARDIS and started running on autopilot.

You directed the TARDIS to Earth and just stared. Yaz, Graham, and Ryan tried to comfort you and you looked over at them. "She let herself die, to protect me. She.. She took Ashad from me. I let The Doctor die."

Yaz grabbed onto your hand, shaking it to get your attention. "You still have a TARDIS, you can go back! You can grab her. Just like we did with that guy in space!"

"Its a fixed point! Her deaths have always been fixed points! You can't stop them without the universe flipping on its head. Its.. Its time travel 101, Yaz. I can't save The Doctor without destroying something and she asked me to live in her name! So I'm not going to do that. That's not something The Doctor would do. She would not want me to reverse her death, so I wont."

Yaz stared at you for a minute, her eyes widening at the information given. You just pulled your hand away before getting up, looking over at Ravio, Ethan and Yedlarmi. "Welcome to the 21st century, I promised to keep you guys safe and this is the safest I can get you."

Yaz pushed herself out of The TARDIS and Ryan followed, while Ravio, Ethan and Yedlarmi stared back at you. "So your The Doctor now?"

You shook your head. "Doctor 2.0. I'll figure something out. Maybe Doctor Disco? I dunno. That's the great thing, getting to pick your own name, you'll find one that fits right."

Graham looked over at you as you fiddled with The TARDIS, messing with the Chameleon Circuit, morphing the exterior to that familiar blue police box. "If I'm going to be another Doctor, I'm gonna dress my TARDIS up like Sexy."

Graham finally grabbed your hand, forcing you to look over at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, great." You responded quickly, smiling at him.

"Ravio, Ethan, and Yedlarmi are going to need someone to guide them through the next couple of months. Can that be you, Graham? Yaz is gonna be having a hard time without The Doctor and I don't want to impose of her grief."

"Well, what about you?"

"What about me, Graham? I'm The Doctor now. I have to keep going. I can't stop." You hadn't noticed the shaking and the tears before now.

Is this how The Doctor felt each time she knew she was the last of her kind? You barely noticed Graham pulling you in for a hug, just like you did what felt like months ago. You just held onto him.

#Dhawan!Master x reader #Doctor Who x reader #Cade Writes For Doctor Who

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ordin-arily · 2 years

Note

I have read all your rottmnt works bc I recently (finally!) got into this amazing show. I love your work!!

If you ever have the time, I'd love to see a Donnie-fic where maybe he gets jealous when his crush wears his brother's colours, and either tries to "sneakily" (clearly not subtle) put them in purple/his clothes/brand, or (if you have enough inspiration to continue the 'mating season' idea) claim them some other way? *wink*

I always hear about possessive turtles (esp from Donnie) but I don't see much of it (esp from Donnie). We like to see some spicy turtles lol

thank you!! i couldn't squeeze anything spicy in this time but i think i managed to get a little bit of that possessive behaviour! :)

Notes: 2nd POV & fem reader for this one

Okay here's your fic! :D

When you walk into the lair wearing red, Donnie’s fists come down against a table.

You flinch at the sound and turn away from your conversation with Raph to peer at him expectantly. Under your observation, Donnie swipes his hand over the area he’s just hit, pretending to dust something off.

"There was a bug.”

You nod sort of distractedly and return your attention to his brother, who’s continued his dialogue, never one to be particularly bothered by interruptions.

If this were any other day, Donnie might have mulled over whether or not you actually bought his lame attempt at a cover-up. Today, though, he keeps his focus trained on you, straining to hear what you’re saying as he tinkers mindlessly somewhere in the background.

You.

You... in that little scarlet tank top.

You, making him chew through several different writing utensils.

He hadn't thought much of it when you showed up wearing the most adorable orange crew neck the other day. He’d barely registered the colour at all. Why study your clothing when you were there, scribbling away in your notebook, the cutest crease between your brows as you paused every so often to punch in something on your calculator...

It was only when Mikey passed by and playfully bumped you on the side, buoyantly exclaiming something like “hey Y/N, we’re matching!” that Donnie had picked up on it.

With your head still in math problems, it’d taken you half a second longer to process what his younger brother was saying, but when you did, you broke out in the most award-winning grin. “Oh! Hey, yeah!”

And then you’d fully stood up to compare hues and textiles, chatting up a storm of delight.

It was sweet—endearing, even.

But then it happened again...

The next time he saw you, you were in a brilliant cobalt long-sleeve cropped tee. It hugged you in all the right places and brought out your features stunningly.

Donnie would’ve been a fool not to notice, which is probably exactly why Leo did.

“Ho-ho-ho! Repping me today, Y/N?”

You’d laughed, looking down at yourself like you just now remembered you were wearing his colour, and pointed at him enthusiastically. “Hey! Yeah, I guess I am!”

“I always knew you were a fan,” he’d grinned, throwing his arm around you easily.

You made a show of rolling your eyes and shoved him away jovially. “Keep pushing, Nardo. See where it gets you."

Donnie likes your personality, he does. He likes that you’re charming and witty and that you can keep up with all of them.

So, why then, had he snapped his pencil in half the moment Leo got close to you and tauntingly asked, “Is that an invitation, Y/L/N?"

He’d wanted to step right between the two of you and spread his arms as far as they would go—pummel his twin into oblivion if the right situation presented itself.

He’d just reached for another pencil instead.

Donnie almost forgot about those events. Whatever you’d worn between then and now must’ve not struck him as anything spectacularly out of the ordinary—maybe you’d worn black or grey or green. He wasn’t sure. But now…

But now.

The red.

God, it’s like you’re doing it on purpose.

He knows it’s silly to get worked up over something this trivial, but he can’t help it. And when Raph inevitably calls attention to such a discovery? Forget it.

“Hey! Did you wear red for me?” He sounds so excited. Pathetic, Donnie thinks scornfully.

You look down at yourself. “Oh! Y’know, I’d love to say that I did, but just a happy accident I guess.”

In the distance, Donnie narrows his eyes, unconvinced that you’re not doing this just to torture him. He repeats the last part of your sentence under his breath, mocking your voice in an entirely unintelligible grumble.

“What was that, D?” Raph asks genuinely, craning his neck around you to address the boy with steam wafting up off of him.

“Hm? Nothing, just that pesky bug.” He laughs too loudly and hits the table again. “Got it!”

The both of you blink at him and he can nearly feel his cheeks turn the colour of your shirt if they could turn such a colour.

Well, this is certainly a blow to his pride.

“I shall fetch a tissue!” he announces overzealously, and books it out of the room at lightning speed, taking a sharp turn in the direction of the thermostat. He peeks over his shoulder before cranking it way down.

If he needs to turn his brothers into turtsicles, so be it. You’ll be asking for a sweater any minute now.

Any… minute…

Yep, that’s what he told himself forty-five minutes ago, just as you settled into his lab, sitting across from him at his high table.

He glances over every few seconds now, anticipating, and doing his best to suppress some pretty gnarly teeth-chattering.

“Hey, uh, aren’t you a little cold, Y/N? Do you, um, do you want a jacket—I can get you a jacket,” he tells you, breath coming out in a cloud.

You’re engrossed in yet more school work—this time, a history textbook. “Mm, n-no, thank you,” you respond almost unconsciously, not tearing your eyes away from the open page.

“Oh, okay,” Donnie says and pulls his purple Dragons club jacket out from behind him.

He leaves it on the table between the two of you for a few minutes, pretending to busy himself with a screwdriver and a circuit board... until he can’t take it anymore. You still haven’t looked up from your reading and it’s driving him nuts.

It’s only once you feel something touch your shoulders that your concentration is sliced clean through. You sit up poker-straight, jolting at the feel of soft fabric being draped over your form. Behind you is a very sheepish-looking Donatello, snaking, slinking, and all but slithering about.

You put down your pencil. “Okay, I give. What’s going on with you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Those odd little inflections he does have become so normalized to you that the comical stiffness with which he says this doesn’t derail your resolve in the slightest. Shucks.

“You’ve been acting weird all afternoon. Is it my tank top? Does it bother you that much?”

“No!” he rushes out. “I mean, yes, but not for the reason you think!”

It’s difficult not to feel self-conscious with that kind of response, and you pull his jacket on properly, hoping to hide your front a little more if that’s what’s making him so uncomfortable.

The second it’s on though; the second you’re wearing his colour, his attire, his… He completely short-circuits. (Is this what it’s like to be Mikey?)

You’re looking at him funny and calling his name, but his basic motor functions are as good as gone. (Is he having a stroke right now?

He knew you’d look in purple but… god damn.)

He’s just regaining his ability to think—forget speak—when his door flies open with a gruff “DONNIE!”

The dancing sparkles and rose-coloured orbs poof from his vision with a disembodied pop!

“WHY’S it so cold in here?” Raph berates. "We’re all freezing! What’d you do now?!”

“Um,” Donnie punctuates too defensively for the bearings of a guilty man. “First of all, I am deeply wounded by your preposterous implication that I had anything to do with this. And, second of all…” His head falls and his voice gets quiet. “Check the thermostat...”

Raph squints, suspicious and testy, before backing out of the room, mumbling something about the gifted child under his breath.

Meanwhile, puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in your mind.

Part of you wants to tease him. You could take off his jacket—claim it’s actually hot in here. You could tell him you’re not really that big a fan of the colour or that the garment is a little scratchy.

The better part of you, however, surmises that, if your friend has gone to such great lengths to see this through, it might be better to attend to this one delicately.

You double-check to make sure that his brother is indeed no longer in the room before folding your arms and confronting a shamefaced Donatello.

“You were going to be next, you know?”

His eyes shift from side to side nervously and he feigns ignorance. “W-what are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t plan it initially, but I thought it might be fun to keep going. Saved the best for last and everything.”

He perks up at that last part, lifting his head to look at you. “You... Really?”

You nod. “Had the cutest little babydoll all ready to go. But… I guess the jacket works too.”

His posture wilts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think jealousy was in my roster of attributes, but here we are.”

“It’s not an attribute,” you insist. “It’s a feeling. You know what those are right?"

He bites back a smile and shakes his head. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the smartest on the team, you’ve now said that twice in the last minute.”

This time he does smile, but you can tell it’s without his consent. “Gah—fine!” he relents. “I’ve been had! Just put me out of my misery already.”

You let out a hearty chortle at this and figure he’s paid enough. Still, this doesn’t stop you from asking: “So… how do I look?”

He averts his gaze anxiously, eyes flitting back to you erratically like he can’t quite help himself, then clears his throat. “Uh, goo—yeah, um good. You look good.”

“My god, that was painful.” You start to slip the windbreaker off when he stops you.

“N-no. Seriously, um—“ He holds a hand out and swallows harshly. “Keep it on. If-if you want. It looks good on you.”

And now it’s your turn to blush. You wish desperately in these moments that you had some kind of control over it; it’s all fun and games when you’re not the one who’s flustered.

There’s some kind of shift in his demeanour at your reaction, though—his confidence apparently skyrocketing exponentially because the next words out of his mouth are: “And not just because it’s purple.”

“Oh?”

“It’s also… mine."

(Gone are the nervous gulps and fumbling hands, apparently.)

There are insinuations behind those words too—the kind that make your heart pick up speed in your chest—and you scramble for a witty retort.

“I’ll have to steal your hoodie next time then.”

(...Mediocre but it’ll have to do.)

Donnie goes stock-still at this response, like he’s conjuring up the mental image. And then he smirks. Like, a full-on, self-satisfied, impish smirk. Jesus.

“Good idea."

Alright—where the hell is this coming from?

Despite your discomfiture, you have to admit the thought of wearing his clothes is unexpectedly... comfortable—about as comfortable as the real deal. You toy with the fabric of the sleeve reflexively, lost to your ruminating.

If you go home that night, accidentally taking his jacket with you and finding, as you finish up your history reading, that it still smells like him… you figure none will be the wiser.

If you rummage around in your closet a little later in the evening, looking for all things violet, amethyst, plum, and lavender... Well, so what?

And if you show up to the next beach day clad in a bright purple two-piece...

Maybe you’re looking forward to the kind of results it might yield.

#rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles donnie #rottmnt donnie x reader #my fanfic tag #writing requests

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monstrousvoice · 2 years

Text

Good Kitty

Fandom: Cult of the Lamb

Relationship: Bishop Leshy X Reader/Un-named OC

AN: Hello!! This is a request sent to me by @meatcatt for a Bishop Leshy X Male Reader!! It includes pet play and power dynamics, and I threw in a couple other things, I hope you enjoy it meatboy!!!!!

Tags: Smut, PWP, Slight Stomach Distention, Cum Inflation, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, through the power of magic cause I said so, Reader is an un-named OC, Reader is a tabby cat follower, Reader is amab, Reader has a dick

Warnings: Gratuitous smut and anal with tummy distention, as well as overstimulation and multiple orgasms made possible by magic, cause I said so

Summary: Your Master works very hard, and is need of a stress reliever~

Read on AO3!

Your fingers wrap tight around your golden name tag, idly fiddling with it in your boredom. You’ve been a good boy today, but now it was nearing the third hour of Follower hearings and you were feeling…restless. You wanted to do something different. You sit high on the arm of your Master’s throne in his temple, and a shift of your hips makes you acutely aware of the… gift Master had given you before this meeting.

Even with a jeweled plug stretching your ass open, you followed Master’s rules perfectly. You sat pretty, didn’t moan like a whore whenever he reached over to pet you, and you didn’t pay attention to a single other person in the room. Your cock has been hard and leaking for the entirety of the late morning and you were desperate for any kind of relief.

The hand not fiddling with your name tag adjusts the loose, draping skirt you wear. It's just enough cloth to cover your cock and ass, your legs in clear view, with the cloth incredibly easy to push aside for immediate access to your lubed up asshole. The obvious tent in your lap is noticeable by all the followers who enter the room, many of them whispering and staring at your squirming. Many of them have had to adjust their own robes or leave all together at the pretty sight you make.

You don't care about their gaze though, not when your Master sits tall and proud next to you. You want him to finally give you the attention you’ve been craving all morning..but his attention is still away from you.

“P-please my Lord! We-!” The follower screaming has tears flowing down his cheeks, his claws digging into the temple carpet, clawing desperately to stay despite the guards yanking them towards the temple exit. They huff in frustration at his persistence, one of them even tries punching the fool in an attempt to loosen his hold on the expensive rug beneath their feet. They really are causing an incredible fuss…

Other followers are sitting to the side of the room, uncomfortable with the constant wailing. Your own ears have flattened to your head as you grimace, tail swishing in annoyance. This is what is keeping your beloved Master’s attention from you.

A high pitched screech rings out, echoing throughout the temple and ringing in everyone’s ears. Master stands tall next to you, his shadow casting over where you sit. Your mouth forms a small ‘o’ of awe at the sight, your cock twitching in interest once more. The sheer height difference between you both always leaves you feeling warm…

“Silence cur!” Master howls, “I will not have such blasphemy in my woods!” Time seems to freeze as he speaks, even the pathetic grub being dragged away staring in shock at the outburst.

“M-my Lord Leshy, I-” With a devastating ‘crack’, your Master slams the side of his fist into the stone wall of the temple near him. Cracks splinter from the point of impact and reach all the way up to the shuddering ceiling. The follower falls limp against the guards, all the fight leaving them at the display of anger.

Your whole body shudders at the display, your breath leaving you in a ragged gasp. You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud for everyone to hear.

“You-” Master Leshy hisses, “You have made a mockery of my sibling and continue to disrespect my time and my court. It will not stand.” The god can no longer see, but the intent behind his non-existent gaze is palpable, and the guards go pale even as they grip the heretic tighter.

“Kill him.” The wyrm growls.

The guards salute and drag the limp body they hold away. Even after they leave. Tension is still thick in the air. Your Master sits again on his throne, shoulders stiff and claws clenching and unclenching rhythmically. A priest gestures to a whimpering follower to step forward with their request.

As the tiny thing mutters and stumbles over their words, you watch your Lord. Black ichor leks heavily from his bandages, droplets falling to stain his already black robes an impossible shade darker. His head twitches at every sound around him, from shuffling feet to quiet words being spoken. His right hand reaches up to grip one of his wooden antlers tight, giving it a harsh tug in a futile effort to stop his twitching.

You need to do something.

With practiced movements you crawl from the throne arm and onto your Master’s lap. You settle on one of his mossy thighs, the pressure resting against the plug inside you and giving your cock something to grind against. You absentmindedly grind down, unable to hold back the whispered gasp the feeling gives you. Pleasure shoots up your spine and makes your toes curl, and you quickly bury your face into the silk robes of your Master to muffle any other sounds you might make.

Your actions make Leshy freeze, his twitching put to a stop for a brief moment out of surprise. His voice cuts through the crowd below you. You feel their eyes on you as you grind shamelessly where you sit, uncaring what they think.

“Leave us. Priest, lock the doors.” You can’t help the sly smile you hide where your face is buried as everyone files out of the room. The heavy ‘ thud ’ of the oak doors closing echoes throughout the room as Leshy’s hands finally settle on you. One rests on your lower back, rubbing downwards to fondle your ass as you continue grinding on him.

“M-Master…” You whimper, heat gathering in your lower belly at his touch. The gentle claws of his other hand pet your head, teasing the sensitive flesh of your ears, making a purr start in your chest.

“My good kitty…” He whispers, pulling you impossibly closer to him. The fire you feel burns up through your veins at the endearment.

“You always know when I need a distraction, my good boy. I love when you beg for my attention like this. So needy …” He all but purrs, his head leaning down to nuzzle at the top of your own head. The mossy covering feels cool and soft against your overheated fur.

“Of course M-Master…I love to serve you…t-take care of your-your every need…” You manage to pant in response. Your hips keep up their movement, pre-cum leaking all over your decorative skirt and staining the fabric dark. A sharp claw nestles in between your ass cheeks to gently press against the decorative gem of your plug.

“Such a pretty sight your ass made for me today. I would look over to you squirming, trying not to moan…” You whimper at his words, hole clenching around the thick plug he played with. His massive jaws part near you, rows and rows of sharp teeth on display, glinting in the fire light of the temple. Your Master’s forked tongue slithers out, licking across your cheek as you moan at the contact. You’ve been so starved for his touch all morning…

“Did you wish it was my cock, pet? Keeping this tight little ass -” He grips the meat of your cheeks hard, spreading them open for his fingers to keep teasing you, “stretched wide open? Would you even care that strangers would see you, on display? A cock drunk whore being used as the toy he knows he was always meant to be?”

You keen at his words, hips humping his thigh furiously as you pant and moan for him. Your tongue lolls as Leshy finally grips the hard jewel of your plug, giving gentle tugs against your flexing hole. You can so clearly see what he’s talking about, sitting on your God’s fat cock as you writhe and cum over and over again, just a toy for him to use…

“I take it you enjoy the idea, my kitty? It looks like you do~” He teases, his thigh bouncing to jerk you further into his lap. Your cock is pressing against his hip now, leaking pre-cum all over the fabric and plant matter there. The thick vine material gave a perfect friction as your Master continued to tease your ass with your plug.

With no effort he shifted you upwards and back down, now sitting properly in his lap. His own cock was pressing fully against you now, sweet nectar leaking from the tip. You wanted it in your mouth, leaking that sweet smelling fluid down your throat and into your belly…

“O-oh fuck! M-Master-!” You gasped as he finally ended his teasing, the fattest part of your plug finally slipping free of your sensitive hole with a wet ‘pop’ . Your whole body shuddered at the feeling, asshole clenching hard around nothing. With smug satisfaction Leshy set the toy aside, purring deep in his chest at your still jerking hips.

“Good job, sweet boy. Very good. I’ll give you what you want soon, let me test with my fingers first.” You whimpered in pleasured agony at his words. You had been stretched all day! You could take hi-

You screamed when two of his fingers were shoved forcefully into your ass, crooking hard against the soft walls and jerking back out hard. Then he did it again, in and out, in and out as you screamed at the feeling. His maw came close to your throat, nipping softly at the skin there, a harsh contrast to the jerking of his hand.

“Good kitty~” he whispered, and the coiling heat in your belly only grew hotter. It grew taut, ready to release if he just-kept-!

His fingers left your opening, despite the pitiful whine you gave at your ruined orgasm. Leshy gave a tut-tut at your behavior.

“Now now pet, you know you’re not allowed to cum without my say-so.”

“Y-yes Master…” You whimpered, your voice hoarse. Leshy gave a sympathetic coo at your debauched form.

“Don’t worry sweet pet…” He purred, lifting our hips high, “You’ll get to cum as much as you want with my cock squeezed into this sweet ass…” You could feel it, the tapered end of his dick pressing against your opening, spreading nectar over your already lubed up skin.

You gasped and bit down hard at the plant matter nearest to your face, trying desperately not to cry in ecstasy as he pushed himself into you, ever so slowly. The tapered head made entry easy, but his cock very quickly thicked in size as your hips sank down. You trembled and clenched down, hard , as he kept pushing further into you-!

“Nhgh, kitty, relax…relax for me, I can’t go deeper with you squeezing so tight-! ” You could only cry out in response, too fucked out to even understand his words. His claws roamed up and down your sides and played with your sensitive spots. Your body reacted naturally, loosening up and losing tension.

Your slicked up hole loosened as well, and you dropped further down onto his cock with no warning. Your scream was lodged in your throat as your whole body trembled and shook. You needed to cum, you needed to cum so fucking badly-

Leshy groaned low and loud at the sudden movement, his claws gripping you tight as he panted in your ear.

“T-there. No p-problem my kitty…slipped in with no…fuck-no problem.” One of his hands gripped your own, bringing it towards your belly. Your limp paw rested where he placed it, feeling a formed bump. With wide eyes you looked down to see your own hand stroking a bump that previously wasn’t there.

“Fucking-fugh-fuck~” You moaned, drool dripping from your lolling tongue as your hips spasmed. Rope after rope of cum shot out and onto your Master’s belly as your ass squeezed tight around his cock. Your head fell back as you looked at him, unable to see his physical eyes but knowing he could see you anyways.

He held you close as you came down from your high, cock twitching as it softened. You breathed in his woody scent, enjoying the pleasant aftershocks that still jumped through your body. His dark chuckle made you freeze, eyes popping open. With a quick jerk of his hips he reminded you that he hadn’t cum yet.

He didn’t give you permission either.

“Naughty kitty. Guess what? Now you have to stay here until I cum too. And you’re going to keep cumming for me the entire time~ ” He hissed. Your body was enveloped in a warm red glow as Leshy’s magic flowed into you and the sated feeling you were wrapped up in before disappeared.

With a cry your cock sprung back to life, new energy filling your body even with it feeling too sensitive to continue. Leshy didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting up hard and deep into your hole.

You screamed again, nerves on fire even as heat flooded your veins with the need to cum again. It was too much, it wasn’t nearly enough-!

Your Master growled, teeth displayed in a snarl as he manhandled you like a doll, forcing you up and down on his oversized cock. You hadn’t even fully recovered from your first orgasm before a second one was forcing its way through you, ripped forcefully out by magical induced stamina.

Tears leaked from your eyes as Leshy kept using you, pushing your hips down into his and grinding into your abused hole. You could do nothing but go limp as he took what he wanted from you, bouncing you up and down.

“Ma-Mas-” You couldn’t speak, your brain a pile of mush as you felt another orgasm start building in your gut.

“Fucking-little slut! You wanna cum without p-permission? F-fine! Go ahead! Ke-keep cumming on my cock!” He growled, his pace not slowing down the least. Your body was oversensitive, abused and tired as heat kept building and building inside.

You loved it.

You think you managed to say so, babbling away as Leshy used your body like a toy. He groaned and grunted above you, focused on chasing his own pleasure now. It was with a jerk that you learned this, when his cock wasn’t able to pull out of your abused hole anymore.

His cock head was unfolding, flowering, like it did when he was about to cum. The tapered end opened up to reveal a beautiful light red head that would cum delicious nectar for you. Your legs wrapped tight around his hips, your once limp arms shakily grasping the wood that made up his chest and his unbuttoned robes, desperate for something to hold onto as Leshy lost himself in pleasure.

With a satisfied growl, thick ropes of nectar were shot into your ass, filling it full, and then fuller after that. You cried as you felt your belly distend more, the sugary substance stretching you further open to hold everything your Master had to give you. All you could do was sit there and take it, your own cock dribbling cum over your thighs.

Your Master continued to move you in a slow grind, his thick cock twitching inside you, jostling your filled tummy. You panted and whimpered, your throat too raw to cry and scream any longer. Leshy relaxed under you, his form going pliant as he held you close to him.

He gently grabbed his robe, using the long cloth to cover your limp form where it still laid against his chest.

“Well, that was very enjoyable, wasn’t it my kitten? I’ll give you a few minutes to come to your senses before followers come back to speak to me.”

You nuzzled into the safe area he made for you in his arms. It would be beyond embarrassing, but you weren’t going to be able to move from this spot for at least an hour.

The flowering head of his cock acted like a plug in itself.

You hoped none of his followers would mind too much.

#My writing #Cult of the Lamb #Leshy Cotl #Leshy CotL X OC #Leshy CotL X Reader #Leshy Cotl X Male Reader #Smut #PWP #Male Reader #AMAB Reader

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Text

(Have I reached the pinnacle of self indulgence? It’s entirely possible.

An alternate universe Keg! Max! from Schneiders of Stars Hollow)

After the second “Jess, wait,” he rolls onto his back and takes a breath.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. That was-sorry.”

Rory frowns and sits up. “I don’t want it to happen here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“What is going on with you?”

He stays silent for a long moment.

“Jess…”

He takes a breath and sits up, rubbing at his face. “I’m graduating.”

“Yes. That’s a good thing.”

“Right. But- I don’t know what happens next,” he admits. “You know? I don’t-what do I do now?”

Rory bites her lip as she listens. She knows his grades are so-so, but so-so isn’t good enough to a ton of schools, and he has no extracurriculars. Just two jobs he’s been juggling.

It’s no wonder he’s stressed out. Squeaking by to graduate, working two labor-intensive jobs. To say nothing of how hard Luke can be on him, and the complete lack of support from either of his parents. Adding to that how everyone in town tends to think the worst of him (including Rory herself sometimes…), it’s a wonder he hasn’t had a nervous breakdown.

She takes a breath and takes his hand. “Maybe you don’t need to know right away.”

“You do,” he points out.

“Yes, but I’m me,” she reminds him. “And we’re different. Maybe you just- need a break.”

He thinks that over. “It doesn’t sound…bad. A break. What kinda break?”

Rory shrugs. “I don’t know. I have a couple of weeks between graduation and Europe. Maybe we could take a roadtrip. Go up to New York. Just…spend a day or two getting lost.”

“I don’t get lost in New York,” Jess reminds her.

“You know what I mean,” she chides.

He nods slowly, thinking about all of this. “It sounds nice. Your mom will freak out. The two of us alone together, out of town. Luke will lose his mind.”

“We’re grownups now,” she points out. “They can’t actually stop us.”

Jess lifts an eyebrow. “Gilmore, you rebel.”

She shoves his shoulder playfully. “The point is, a day or two to clear your head, really think about things. You have plenty of time to figure out what comes next. And I can help.” She hops off the bed and tugs him to his feet. “Now c’mon. Lane’s band is gonna do another set, I don’t wanna miss it.”

He doesn’t move for a moment. “Rory?”

She turns to him curiously.

“I uh…” he stammers, looking at his shoes. “I just-I really-”

Rory smiles slowly and kisses him. “Me too. Really.”

He nods, and follows her out of the bedroom, pulling him down the stairs, only to run into Dean.

“What’s goin on?” he demands, looking from Rory to Jess and back again.

“Nothing,” Rory tells him.

Jess rolls his eyes, letting Rory’s hand go. “Gonna get a beer.”

He doesn’t get far, though.

“Dean, no!”

It happens so fast. Dean grabs Jess by the jacket, and Rory somehow manages to put herself in-between them, managing to catch Dean’s fist in the jaw, sending her reeling back into Jess.

“What the fuck, man!” Jess yells, turning Rory away from Dean to put more distance between them.

Dean stands there, frozen, completely stunned at what’s just happened.

“Rory, I coulda taken the punch,” Jess childes, obviously panicking as he takes her face in his hands, looking over her quickly-bruising jaw.

“S’fine,” she says, dazed. “I’m good. I’ve never been punched before. Good-good experience before college, because you never know.”

“Okay, time to go home,” Jess tells her, glaring back at Dean. “You, I should kill.”

Dean says nothing, still stunned. “I-I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Save it,” Jess snarls, before guiding Rory to the door.

*****

“A perk of living above a diner,” Jess tells her as he comes back with a bag of ice. “Industrial ice machine.”

She sighs and takes the bag, pressing it to her purpling jaw. “Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

“So what you wanna do,” Jess tells her as he sits next to her. “The next time somebody tries to punch you, is put up your arms to block.” He takes the bag and presses it to her jaw for her. “But what you really wanna do next time, is just let me take the punch.”

“You didn’t do anything to deserve the punch,” Rory reminds him.

“Neither did you.”

“He was coming after you because of me,” Rory argues. “Ugh. I feel nauseous.”

“You might have a concussion,” Jess points out. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

“No way,” Rory tells him. “My mom will freak.”

“You got punched in the face, she’s gonna freak no matter what,” Jess points out.

“Are there cheese fries?” Rory asks. “I bet cheese fries would make me feel better.”

Jess shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Jess?” Luke voice calls from upstairs as he steps down. “Jess, what ha-” he stops dead when he sees Rory. “What the hell happened?!”

Rory winces. “Not so loud, please.”

“Why does Rory look like she took a punch?” Luke asks, bewildered as she walks over, shoving Jess out of the way to inspect her bruised jaw.

“Oh, that’s because I did,” Rory explains. “We were at a party, and Dean tried to punch Jess and I kind of got in-between them, and Dean hit me instead by accident.”

“What the hell did you do to deserve a punch?” Luke, asks, turning to Jess.

“He didn’t do anything,” Rory insists. “Really, Dean made some assumptions and got upset and then right in the kisser. Or…jawbone, really.”

“She wants cheese fries,” Jess comments.

“Fine, go make her cheese fries. I’m gonna call Lorelai.”

“Which means I’m gonna hide upstairs after I make the cheese fries,” Jess tells them.

Rory groans and gets to her feet, obviously a little wobbly. “Jess…”

“She’s gonna blame me,” Jess reminds her. “She’s gonna take one look, know deep down in her mom bones that this was my fault, and I’m never gonna be able to see you again, mostly because I’m pretty sure she dug a hole in your backyard when we started dating with the express purpose of throwing me in it and burying me alive.”

“Then I will dig you back up,” Rory promises. “Just…stay. Please?”

He sighs heavily and nods, heading for the kitchen.

Rory sits back down heavily and closes her eyes, taking the ice and putting it back on her jaw. “Can I call my mom, Luke? I think she’d take it better hearing it from me.”

*****

Lorelai rushes into the diner, incensed. “So let me get this straight,” she snaps as she sits down with her daughter, who still has an ice pack on her jaw, and is eating cheese fries. “Let me see if I have the sequence of events correct here, because I feel like I have lost my mind: You went to this party. Jess was taking some alone time upstairs, and you went to find him. You guys made out a little, and then talked-”

“A very good conversation,” Rory tells her. “He’s not sure what he’s gonna do after graduating, and he’s been so stressed out about-”

“You went back downstairs, with the intention of rejoining the party with your friends. Dean saw the two of you coming downstairs from a bedroom, assumed the worst, tried to punch Jess, and you got in front of him?”

“That’s about right,” Rory nods, but then winces. “Ouch. How long does this sting for?”

“A day or so after,” Jess says as he sets a cup of coffee down in front of Lorelai, who grabs him by the shirt. “Okay.”

“You,” she snaps. “You are supposed to make sure my daughter doesn’t get punched!”

“I didn’t know she was gonna jump in front of me! I was bracing to get hit!”

“Mom, it’s not Jess’s fault,” Rory tells her. “It’s not. I knew if Dean punched Jess, Jess was going to hit him back, and it was going to be a huge, terrible mess, so I took one for the team.”

“What team?” Lorelai asks, bewildered. “Rory, you could have really been hurt.”

“I’m pretty sure I have a concussion,” Rory tells her, shoveling more food into her mouth. “But the calories are really making me feel better.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Lorelai asks.

“Oh, I’m really mad,” Rory tells her. “I’m so mad at Dean the next time I see him I might- poke him in the eye or- step on his foot really really hard. I’m angry. But my jaw really hurts, and I don’t feel so good so rage will have to wait.”

Lorelai huffs and shakes her head, looking up at Jess and finally letting go of his shirt. “Can you get us a to-go box?. I’m gonna take her home.”

“I’m gonna finish them here,” Rory tells her. “I’m almost done. The food makes my head feel better.”

Lorelai huffs and sits back. “Okay. Well. I’m gonna call Dean’s mother in the morning. Tell her he’s slugging unsuspecting future Yale undergrads in the face.”

“I was not unsuspecting,” Rory argues. “I knew.”

“She didn’t put up her arms,” Jess says. “You’re supposed to put up your arms.”

“Duly noted. Again.”

#fic #au #Gilmore Girls #The Schneiders of Stars Hollow #Jess x Rory #Literati #Luke Danes #Lorelai Gilmore #and uh Dean

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rubyiiiusions · 1 year

Text

i wonder how the sun feels when it falls // sonknux

word count 2489 - ao3 link

summary:

For his entire life, Knuckles had been alone. It was his fate-he was the last echidna, after all, and he enjoyed his solitary lifestyle, but…

enjoy,,, theyre freaks <3

Knuckles could barely remember a time when he didn’t love Sonic.

He’d loved him for as long as he knew what the word meant, and in every sense of it–they were rivals, friends, and somehow so, so much more. From the very beginning, the blue hedgehog had been different; the first of his enemies that actually put up a fight, that threatened his way of living first by shattering his world and then by rebuilding it, sweeping him into a whirlwind of taunts and laughter and too-warm smiles. Sonic got on his nerves in the best way possible, giving him an outlet for everything he struggled to express in words, a punching bag that fought back. He was infuriatingly stubborn–he never gave up, never left, not even after Knuckles got tricked and fought against him for the umpteenth time. It was a dance they’d perfected, stubbornly insisting on getting in each other’s way just to hear the other’s infuriated scoff, to feel the rush of battle as they sparred with words and fists, genuine smiles.

For his entire life, Knuckles had been alone. It was his fate-he was the last echidna, after all, and he enjoyed his solitary lifestyle, but…

It hurt, sometimes. And, in his typical fashion, Sonic was always there to help alleviate that age-old pain, words light and airy, smile carefree as the wind, breathless and sweaty as they fought in the light of the moon, and afterward picking blueberries and tossing them at each other, building a campfire and making s’mores, laughing at the stickiness of a melted marshmallow stuck in blue quills. Sonic fell asleep curled next to Knuckles, and carefully a bulky hand snaked around his shoulders, pulling him closer, leaning into each other. He wasn’t built to handle delicate things, and while Sonic was usually anything but, now…

He trusted Knuckles. He was vulnerable around him, even after everything they’d been through. Knuckles swallowed, realizing that without noticing, he’d let his defenses down, too.

He was terrible at reading body language. It was a language he didn’t speak, could barely understand, let alone translate. But even he noticed the way Sonic stumbled around Ares island, limping and smiling, a hand flickering with cyber-corruption. The moon was high above, mirroring the crescent on Knuckles’ chest. He wondered how many sleepless nights he’d had. Less than Sonic, for sure.

A flicker. He yelped, spinning around, and there she was–that mysterious girl that had trapped him, reduced him to this. He let out a low growl, but she was floating out of reach, and Sonic still insisted that he shouldn’t fight her. Reluctantly, he lowered his fists, eyeing her warily.

“You care for him,” she noted, gazing at the blue hedgehog in the distance, sparring with one of the many robots littering the desert island. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” Knuckles scoffed. “He’s my friend. Of course I care about him.”

“You argue,” she pointed out, still staring at Sonic’s figure, illuminated in the moonlight. “You don’t see eye to eye, you fight constantly. You claim that you’re friends, yet there’s this odd tension between you. It’s perplexing.”

“Yeah, we’re rivals. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, too.” Knuckles followed her gaze. A laugh found his ears, carried by the wind. “He annoys me, but I admire him. He’s strong, fast… he’s saved me more times than I can count.” He let out a small laugh. “And he depends on me, too. He’d never admit it, but he’d be lost without me.”

The girl hummed. “He’s a confusing specimen, isn’t he? Almost a shame that he has to die.”

Knuckles snorted. “You can try to kill him. I have too. He’s not going to lose. No matter what. I know him.”

He turned back and she was gone. Letting out a sigh, he vanished and flickered back into existence next to Sonic. Somehow, looking at his drooping eyelids, his words and faith in his rival seemed unfounded.

“It’s dark,” he commented, not knowing quite what to say. “You seem tired.”

Sonic brushed him off, waving a hand. “Psh. I’m fine, Knux. If anything, you seem like you’re struggling to keep up. Did I wear you out?” he teased, instinctively elbowing him. His arm fizzled through flesh, flickering in and out of existence, a constant reminder of the predicament they were in, the state Knuckles trusted Sonic with his life to help him escape.

“Hardly,” he snorted. “But I’m not sure I trust you to take down that titan while you look like you’re about to collapse.”

“Please.” Sonic yawned. “I could take that hunk of junk down in my sleep. ”

“It almost blew you up yesterday.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“I–” Knuckles bit back his concern, turning away. “Fine. Just… be careful, ok?”

“Please.” Sonic laughed, far too strained. “Careful? Where’s the fun in that?”

He was limp, frozen in place, flickering and corrupted. Knuckles mirrored him, trembling at the sight. Amy let out a cry, running to Sonic, and he tried to force himself to do the same but he couldn’t move , paralyzed by shock, dread, the world spinning so much he barely noticed the ground that felt solid at his feet.

“What happened to him?” He asked, head spinning, and this all felt like a scene from one of those horror movies Rouge loved to watch with him, something that couldn’t be real, there was no way, but there Sonic was, paralyzed, grinning, ever upbeat, the spitting image of the optimistic hero, the light of hope, snuffed out.

“He took on so much cyber energy,” Tails’ voice was soft, miserable, almost shrouded in disbelief. “It… it corrupted him.”

“Meaning?” His ears were ringing.

“He’s stuck between realities. He’s in limbo. He… he lost.”

No. There was a lump in his throat, forcing its way out in the form of a tiny, choked cry, finally finding the strength to stumble forward. It was all blurry except for him, a frozen statue, eyes open, flesh blackened and flickering that vile red, corrupted through and through, and, of course, the small, pained grin on his face. His hand found a once-blue shoulder and didn’t pass through it. He forced back a sob. He can’t be dead. He can’t–

He didn’t lose. There’s no way.

Eggman was cackling(he was here, of course he was here), but it was faint background noise, deafened by the ringing in his ears, and Sonic wasn’t breathing, Chaos, he wasn’t breathing –

“Wake up,” he breathed, barely audible, shaking Sonic’s shoulders, and he was stone-cold. “Please. You have to wake up. You can’t--”

A rumble, booming ominously in the distance, shaking the very ground below his feet. Knuckles pulled away, jolted back to reality, looking around frantically. Whoever did this to him is going to pay, he thought, grim. His light of hope had been snuffed out, but what could he do except fight on? It was all he knew how to do anyway. Hope was a weak drug compared to vengeance.

“Since time immemorial I have languished here. Now, the locks are broken. I shall tear down the walls between dimensions and consume all.”

Knuckles growled, clenching his fists and stepping forward, mouth parting to shout his defiance to the stars, standing between it and the fallen celestial next to him. Eggman was panicking, shouting something about mobilizing the Egg Fleet, but it was helpless. If Sonic had lost, what chance did any of them have of winning? A broken record of his own hopeless concerns, data backing up the inevitable conclusion, the girl he’d seen earlier gripped Eggman’s shoulder, shaking it frantically, eyes flicking from Knuckles to Sonic to the sky and back again. “It won’t be enough! It triumphed over the Ancients’ technology! My simulations show a success rate of zero percent!”

Of course, Knuckles thought, grim, blood running cold, turning back to look at Sonic again. His eyes were no longer green, consumed by that sickening, flickering, lifeless red. He stepped back, still in disbelief, looking down at his now-solid hands. He sacrificed himself for us. You selfless idiot.

“No!” Tails’ voice cut through the daze, drawing his eyes to him. His face, screwed in determination despite the tears brimming in his eyes, somehow mirrored his brother’s in a way that tore and shredded at Knuckles’ heart, tugging at his heartstrings. Things will never be the same again, will they? “Sonic worked too hard for us to give up now. Those visions we saw… we can drive back the corruption and bring him back!”

Knuckles inhaled, gaze traveling from his hands, no longer flickering, to the corrupted hero. Of course. When he freed me, the energy keeping me prisoner went into him. A small, sad smile found its way to his muzzle. We’ll see who’s self-sacrificing now, you bastard. You’ve saved me time and time again, it’s time to return the favor.

His hand found Tails’, Amy grasping his other fist as if her life depended on it. Her voice was shaky, full of emotion that Knuckles wished he knew how to express. “Sonic, you still have love to share with this world, too!”

“Sonic, I want you to see the hero I become!” Tails cried, squeezing Knuckles’ hand tightly. The world was beginning to hum, echoing in his ears. He stepped closer to his friend--no, so much more, that warmth in his chest, that faded from enemies to rivals to friends to whatever they had been, could be if this only worked. He supposed that he could call that love. Whatever it takes.

“Sonic.” His voice was far shakier than he would have liked. “We’re even after this, ha!”

And everything flickered to black.

“You look tired,” Sonic commented, pushing through the brush as he followed Knuckles through his island. Knuckles snorted, laden with something… more. “You’re one to talk.”

“Nah.” Sonic shrugged, and though Knuckles was unsure if his grin was real or not, it still made his heart shiver and pound in his chest. “I’m more awake than ever after punching through that planet. Eclipse cannon who, am I right? At least I finished the job.”

Both paused, a bitter taste spreading across Knuckles’ tongue. It wasn’t just Sonic that had sacrificed in the face of the End. The girl–no, her name was Sage –had given everything she never had and something more.

“Hey,” Sonic murmured, breaking the silence, leaning down to scoop a sad-looking chao off of the ground. “You alright?”

“I’ve been away for a while. I guess they’ve grown dependent on me to shake the trees for them.” Knuckles absentmindedly punched the trunk of a tree beside him, catching the fruit that fell and handing it to the chao. “Here you go, little guy.”

The chao chirped happily, curling closer to Sonic as it munched on the triangle fruit, seemingly content to remain in the hero’s arms. This time, his smile was genuine–Knuckles was sure of it, and it made his head spin, the tiny laugh that Sonic let out. His head was spinning in a good way this time, like he was sliding down a hill, leaping into a pile of leaves, freefalling as far as he could before gliding just inches above the seaspray.

“Sonic?”

“Mhm?” The hedgehog turned, eyes glimmering with joy as he scratched the chao on the belly.

“I–” he paused, trying to find the right words, and giving up when he realized he never would, there would never be a way to encapsulate the way Sonic made him feel, but he’d try anyway. Funny how losing him, even if just for a moment, made everything feel so much more temporary and simultaneously shoved it into place. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad that you’re alive.”

Sonic laughed, joyful and free and real . “Wow, thanks for the sentiment,” he joked, playfully elbowing Knuckles, careful not to disturb the chao that had clambered onto his shoulder.

“No.” Knuckles looked away. Why were his cheeks burning? “Sonic, when you got corrupted, I–I guess it made me realize how much I need you, how much I care about you as… well, as more than just a rival or a friend. More than I thought. You’re just so… so free, and yet you care so much, even though you don’t have to. You sacrifice so much not just for your friends, but for your enemies, for people you’ll never meet. So�� thank you, I guess.” He bit his lip. “...Don’t make me say it again, you know how I am with feelings–”

Sonic swallowed his yelp of surprise, hands suddenly clinging to his dreads, pulling him close, somehow sweet and frantic all at once, and oh.

Oh.

That’s what that was.

He began to pull away but Knuckles pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, hands coming to cup his grip on his dreads, and suddenly he was being shoved backwards, pressed against the trunk of the tree he’d just punched to give the chao fruit. Sonic hummed against his lips, parting for just a second before diving in again, clinging to Knuckles as if his life depended on it, not the other way around. “I love you too,” he murmured against his lips, and Knuckles shuddered, refusing to let the kiss end. It didn’t feel real but it somehow felt so, so right , as if he’d been waiting for this his entire life without realizing it, and maybe he had been, maybe that was what he’d been missing all this time. It was like he was walking on a cloud, Sonic pulling him up among the stars, outshining all of them with the way he unraveled Knuckles, piece by piece, delicately yet completely pulling him apart and cradling him close. He was trembling like a leaf, Knuckles realized, and suddenly they were falling.

They separated with a gasp, Sonic tumbling to the ground and swearing as he lost his balance, Knuckles following with a yelp. In an instant, they were a tangled pile of limbs and fur on the forest floor, stunned into silence before Sonic laughed, raspy and real .

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted. Knuckles scoffed. “What, you waited ?” he teased. “Do I know you?”

The chao let out a whine and Sonic winced, turning to look at it, sitting grumpily on the floor with crossed arms and an upturned nose. “Sorry, little guy. Didn’t mean to drop you.” It peeped, frustrated, and Knuckles sighed in contentment, holding out a bulky hand for it to climb into and pulling it close. “Really Sonic, have more respect for the wildlife,” he scolded.

Sonic sniffed, turning up his nose. “I had more important business to take care of.” Knuckles growled playfully, capturing him again.

#sonknux #sth #sth fanfic #sth fanfiction #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #knuckles #knuckles the echidna #knuckles x sonic #knuxonic #sonknuckles #i Love them more than words can express #hopefully this suffices hehe #reblogs r appreciated also ... im proud of this?? kinda?? wack #anyway im Normal abt them guys!#fuck the sun and moon imagery call sonic the eclipse cannon bc he kissed the moon and that bitch had an autistic YIPPEE explosion <3

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wild-karrde · 2 years

Note

For your prompts may I suggest "it's okay, I've got you " maybe fox and wolffe? ❤️❤️

OK WE ARE GOING FOR SOME BROTHERLY COMFORT HERE BECAUSE I DO ADORE THESE BOYS.

It was late, but Fox rarely left his office before sundown anyhow. Why would tonight be any different? The cup of caf sitting within reach was starting to go cold as he drained the final dregs. He sat for a moment, debating if it was worth getting one last cup when his office door hissed open. His amber eyes flicked up to find the familiar grey and white teeth framing the visor staring back at him.

"Didn't expect you to mosey in at this time of night," he commented casually, flicking through his datapad without sparing Wolffe another glance.

He would have normally expected some sharp retort, but instead he was met with silence. His eyes flicked back to his brother, still standing in the door as if he was unsure about whether to enter. That's when Fox noted his hands trembling at his sides, his clenched fists doing little to hide it. He immediately set the datapad down, rising from his place and closing the distance between the two of them.

"Wolffe?" he said gently.

"She was there." The vocoder in Wolffe's helmet did little to hide the tremble in his voice.

"Who?" Fox asked carefully.

"Ventress."

Fox's eyes widened in understanding. Carefully, he placed his hand on his brother's back, applying just enough pressure to guide him forward into the office. "Sit down." It came out gruffer than he'd intended, but then again, the last thing Wolffe would want is coddling, to be handled like a delicate glass sculpture that would shatter at any moment.

Even if it was true.

Wolffe obeyed, wordlessly moving to the seat on the other side of Fox's desk while the commander returned to his seat. "Caf or whiskey?" he offered.

"Whiskey."

Reaching into a bottom drawer of his desk, he pulled loose the bottle that he kept there and two more clean mugs. The grog was cheap, but there was something comforting in the burn it provided. It never seemed to be shared for celebratory reasons anyway. He poured a healthy amount before sliding the cup across the desk towards Wolffe. The other commander had not removed his helmet yet, his hands still clenched as they rested on his knees.

"Drink," Fox ordered.

Wolffe shakily reached for the cup, holding it in front of him.

"Wolffe."

The cup slipped from the commander's hands and shattered on the ground. He slid his hands around the back of his neck, tucking his head between his knees and shuddering. Fox punched the button on his desk that locked his office door before coming around the desk to kneel in front of his brother in the puddle of whiskey. His gloved fingers gently pulled Wolffe's away from his helmet enough that he could pull the bucket off and rest it on his desk. Wolffe's shuddering breaths were louder now, and Fox could see the tears threatening to spill over they eyelid of his good eye. Wolffe's hand automatically went to graze the scar over his right eye, tracing the mark left by the Sith's lightsaber.

"I just... I froze. I froze Fox."

Fox leaned forward, pulling Wolffe's forehead to his. "It's okay, I've got you. Breathe with me. Just like in training. Remember?"

Wolffe nodded against him, resting his hands on Fox's shoulders as he imitated the deep rhythm of Fox's breathing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Long and slow.

After a few moments, Wolffe's breathing had finally calmed. Fox patted him on the cheek. "Better?"

"Yes," Wolffe rasped. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You've got enough to deal with without me coming in here and breaking down like a shiny that's seen his first battle."

Fox smirked. "You should know by now that we all have our breaking points, Wolffe. And this is always the place to hit that point if needed."

Wolffe exhaled sharply, his eyes coming to rest at the broken ceramic at his feet. "Sorry about your cup."

Fox shrugged. "I always find drinking from the bottle more satisfying anyway."

Wolffe smirked. "If you say so."

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @dsburnerblog

#karrde writes #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #commander wolffe #commander fox #wolffe #fox

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snappedsky · 2 years

Text

Borderlands: Skies the Bodyguard 5

Skies helps Wainwright and the Vault Hunters find the clue to the Vault Key. Sorry to any Clay fans out there. I completely skipped over the Guns of Reliance mission and he won't be involved in the Going Rogue mission either so he won't be in this. Sorry.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Chapter 11

Skies and Wainwright race through the halls of Jakobs Manor, Troy hot on their trail.

“New plan!” Wainwright barks into his ECHO communicator to the Vault Hunters. “You search the cabaret! We’ll keep this punk-ass ratboy runnin’ around like a jabber with its bunghole on fire!”

“Fortunately, I’m a whiz at surviving against Sirens,” Skies says, “the trick to beating Phaselock is to not stay in one spot for too long.”

She glances over her shoulder and sees Troy lifting his hand to point at them.

“To the right!” she orders and she and Wainwright make a quick turn, narrowly dodging the Phaselock.

“Sit still!” Troy barks querulously.

Skies and Wainwright stop momentarily as they enter a large library with balconies on either side.

“Split up!” Wainwright orders and they both go in different directions as Troy catches up with them. He stops, glancing between the two of them.

“Say, ratboy!” Wainwright says from the top of the stairs to the right. “Aren’t you the one who has to suck at your sister’s teat for sustenance?”

Troy growls angrily and chases after him. “Die in a gutter!”

He chases Wainwright up to the right balcony but as he reaches the landing, a bullet hits him in the shoulder. He looks across the room to the adjacent balcony and sees Skies twirling her pistol.

“I was thinking, it must get pretty chilly living in her shadow,” she says.

“Little bitch!” Troy snarls angrily and leaps across the room. Skies grins excitedly and starts running as he lands where she was standing. He tries to Phaselock her but she dodges and heads up the stairs to the third balcony. He follows her, shouting furiously.

As she reaches the third landing, Skies leaps over the railing and falls all the way down to the first floor, landing harmlessly on her right foot. She grins with amusement as she watches Troy look around, trying to figure out where she went.

A shotgun blast to the chest grabs his attention and he looks over to where Wainwright is standing on a bridge connecting the two balconies.

“Get back here, old man!” Troy barks.

“Try and catch me!” Wainwright jeers and takes off again.

Skies watches the two of them disappear out of her sight and runs up the stairs to catch up. It doesn’t take her long to reach the third landing, but as she does, she hears Wainwright cry out in pain.

She goes around a couple of bookshelves to find Troy has successful caught him in his Phaselock.

“Oh, I’m gonna kill you,” he sneers with sick delight as Wainwright struggles in his grasp.

Skies charges in and punches Troy in the ribs with her bladed fist. He cries out in pain and falls to his knees as his Phaselock breaks, freeing Wainwright.

“Run, Jakobs!” Skies orders. The older man quickly takes off.

Troy sees him leave but before he can get up, Skies gives him a swift kick in the face with her robot leg, knocking him back. One more kick sends him flying through the banister and plummeting to the first floor.

Skies looks over the edge and sees Troy lying on the floor below. He groans, a little winded and cut up but otherwise unharmed from a beating that would’ve killed most other people.

“OP Siren bitch,” she spits.

Troy glares daggers at her and tries to Phaselock, but she jumps back and runs off.

“At least we slowed him down,” Skies says as she trots out of the library and down a connecting hallway. “Shit, I don’t know where Jakobs is. I hope he’s okay.”

She grabs her ECHO communicator and calls the Vault Hunters. “Vault Hunters, I knocked over Troy so he should be at least a little slowed down. I lost Jakobs.”

“He just called us. He’s fine,” Moze replies.

“Oh, good. I’m gonna head over to your location so just keep doing your thing.”

“Can do,” Zane says.

Skies tracks their ECHO locations and makes her way through the manor towards them. It takes her a while to traverse the twisting corridors but eventually she makes it to the Theatre Wing.

She goes through a door that looks like it should lead right to the Vault Hunters, and finds herself on a balcony overlooking the cabaret. Down below, she sees the Vault Hunters standing around what looks like large pieces of purple crystal.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Skies asks as she jumps down.

“He was a Goliath. Troy anointed him with his power,” Amara replies.

“Really? I didn’t know Sirens could do that,” she muses.

“Nor did I. Perhaps it is a power unique to him.”

“Where is Troy anyway?” Skies asks.

“Ran off, like the coward he is,” FL4K replies.

“And now that the ratboy’s out of our hair, let’s get down to business,” Wainwright says from everyone’s ECHO communicator. “The trapdoor to my father’s study has a trick latch. You’ll need to figure out the solution. Get up to the technician’s booth.”

“Jakobs, I’m glad you’re okay,” Skies says as she follows the Vault Hunters through the theatre.

“Thanks to you,” Wainwright replies, “you saved me back there. I owe you one.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it.”

They reach the projection booth and Skies pushes a green button on the control panel next to three levers.

“The unlocking mechanism is hidden in the presets for the stage,” Wainwright explains, “look around for some clues as to which props need to be out.”

The Vault Hunters look around for clues but Skies is distracted by the poster for Handsome Jack Tames Pandora.

“That movie sucked,” she grunts, “I wasn’t even in it. Tim’s Jack parodies are way better.”

“People here must really like the Typhon Deleon movie,” Moze comments at the many posters hung around the theatre.

“Maybe that’s the clue,” Skies suggests.

The Vault Hunters flip the levers until props for the movie are on the stage below: a Typhon Deleon standee, a Vault symbol, and a desert background. Then they press the button.

A section of the stage sinks down, revealing a small doorway.

“You’ve done it!” Wainwright cheers, “that trapdoor on the stage leads right to my father’s study. Hurry, you gotta search it.”

Skies and the Vault Hunters excitedly leap back down to the theatre and drop through the trapdoor. It leads into a dank cellar, dimly lit by lamps.

“So, what are we looking for?” Zane asks.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Wainwright admits, “my father said he kept all his records down there. Look for something…record-like.”

On the other side of the cellar is a small opening leading into a cozy den. It’s filled with books and papers of all kinds.

“How are we gonna find the right record in this place?” Moze asks.

“Don’t worry, I’m good at this kind of thing,” Skies replies, “I love looking for secrets.”

The Vault Hunters follow her as she casually looks around the den before entering a bedroom. On a bookshelf she spies a skull ornament with a glowing green eye. She presses it and the whole bookcase opens up like a door, revealing another hidden room. Displayed on the far wall is a wooden record disc that reads ‘Jakobs’.

“Record-like, Jakobs?” Skies questions cheekily.

“Of course!” he exclaims, “he meant record literally! That record’s as old as Jakobs Corporation, and I got the only lingo-phonograph player in the entire system. If he wanted to leave me a message, that must be it. Bring it on back to the lodge.”

Skies grabs the record off the display and the wall immediately falls apart, revealing another hidden room with an opening in the middle of the floor. As they all jump down through the opening into an underground tunnel, a voice speaks through the Vault Hunters’ communicators.

“Leaving so soon?” Aurelia says, “very well. Let me at least explain myself. You mean nothing to me, so I sold you to the Calypso twins. But so you know, I will get the Vault Key. Because I’m rich, and rich people get what they want.”

Skies grabs Moze’s ECHO communicator and speaks into it. “Hey, ice queen. Guess what? I’m rich too and I earned my riches through hard work, unlike you. So if anyone’s getting the Vault Key, it’s me. Not that I actually want it, but it’s for my friends, so y’know.”

“Oh, a challenge. Delightful,” Aurelia purrs, “see you soon.”

Skies huffs and gives Moze back her communicator.

Everyone continues through the tunnel until they reach the exit, out onto the hamlet outside the Jakobs Manor. They make their way through that back to Floodmoor Basin, and soon Knottypeak Lodge. Wainwright is already there, waiting with Hammerlock.

“So, you spoke with my sister and lived to tell the tale!” Hammerlock remarks.

“Never mind the harpy,” Wainwright says impatiently, “that record- may I see it?”

Skies hands over the record and he looks at it wistfully. “To think, this might be the last words of Montgomery Jakobs.”

He places it on the record player and starts it up.

“I’m drunk!”

“Oh, dear,” Hammerlock sighs while Skies laughs.

“I’m drunk and I’m scared, boy,” the record continues. “Those zealots are after the Vaults, and they’ll come for ours. It’s only a matter of time. So listen. The Grand Reserve, the Oily Graveyard, and the Family Jewel- that’s where you’ll find the Key. Boy, the Jakobs tree has stood for centuries. Don’t let it fall now.”

“Pa,” Wainwright sighs sadly, “I’ll never forget your last words.”

“Damnation! This gut rot’s chewing through me like a pig through a pile of apples!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wainwright grunts, turning off the record player. “Now, the Family Jewel is my father’s ship. It crashed out in the jungle, not too long after his death. Vault Hunters, go find the Jewel. If my father’s cryptic message is anything to go by, there ought to be a key fragment on board.”

“While they’re doing that, I can investigate one of the other clues,” Skies declares, “Oily Graveyard sounds fun.”

“Then Alistair and I shall investigate the Grand Reserve,” Wainwright nods.

“Alright, we’ll find this Vault Key in no time,” she smiles.

“Then let’s get to work,” he orders.

Everyone nods agreeably and heads off to their respective quest.

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #borderlands fanfiction #borderlands au #borderlands oc #myocs #myart

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raging-violets · 1 year

Note

16 for rocky

giving your love interest a trinket before a “battle”

A/N: This is actually a (potential) future scene from my 3Ninjas fic Walking The Other Way’, so, light spoilers. Took me long enough, right?

Whif, whif, whif.

Rocky repeatedly punched the bag in front of him, focusing on the rotation of his wrist to ensure the punch landed squarely. When he fatigued on one fist, he switched to the other and back again. All until he felt a warm chill run down his spine.

Usually, he enjoyed the feeling, knowing what it was coming from. This time, he felt a momentary flash of annoyance. Breathing out a heavy sigh, Rocky lowered his hands to his sides, turned, and started to take off his gloves.

“Don’t say it,” he said, addressing Riley before looking at her.

“Don’t say what?” She asked, following him with her eyes.

“That I’m making a mistake,” Rocky replied. “That it’s a bad idea to go up against Snyder.” He rolled his eyes at her statement of, “No need, yeah, you already did it for me.” And went back to unwrapping his hands. Boxing was never really his thing, but he needed something to get out his aggression, help him get some practice in, and take his mind off his upcoming…potential death. He glanced at her. “You know I have to do it.”

She tilted her head, studying him quietly. “He said he wanted revenge on ‘Sam Douglas’.”

“And I can’t let my dad take that fall.” Rocky lifted his chin. Took a deep breath through his nose. Knew he was going to have to explain himself at some point, since he had decided on what he was going to do. “It’d kill mom—”

“You think outliving her son wouldn’t do that?” Rocky moved to walk by her, but she reached out and pressed her hand to his chest, firmly pushing him backwards so he was forced to look at her. “Are you suicidal? Or just bloody insane? I get you’ve done ninja things like this before, but this is serious.”

“I noticed.”

She shook her head, dropped her hand from his chest. Defeated. In so few words she knew she wouldn’t change his mind. “What happened to the only thing you had to worry about being getting your homework in on time to graduate?”

Rocky managed the briefest of smiles. Graduation was the last of his worries. Nevertheless, he felt the pins and needles start in his fingers once more. Another panic attack he’d managed to stave off for the last few…days? Weeks? Everything made him worry now. A future he needed to decide on…and a future he may not even get if he faced off against Snyder.

“You can worry about all that for me,” Rocky replied. He sat down on the bench and grabbed a towel, mopping sweat off his forehead. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Focused. Breathed. Focused harder when she sat next to him, close enough that her thigh pressed against his. “Someone’s gotta watch out for everyone else.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to watch out for you, Sam?” Her eyes bore into the side of his face. He studiously kept his gaze away from hers, knowing how easily he’d be swept away if he did. Just like always. “I guess, before this happens, I should say thank you.”

“For what?” he replied automatically, knowing her answer of, “For everything,” was coming seconds after. Smiled when he heard it. “I think I should be thanking you. For not trying to talk me out of this.”

The side of her mouth turned up into her smirk-smile. “Would I have been able to?” She gently nudged him with her shoulder.

He smiled. “No.”

“Should I threaten to beat you up then? Kidnap you? I can tie a mean knot but…” Her gaze swept over him. “Something tells me you’d break out of it too easily,” she teased saucily. “Which is no fun, by the way.��

Silence stretched between them. Rocky took in another deep breath, a different thought coming to mind. He leaned over to his bag and reached inside. His fingers clamped around the brim of it hat, which he pulled out and held toward her. “Can you hold this for me?”

Riley eyed it for a minute before taking it in her hand. She dropped her hand to her side, curling her fingers around his hat protectively. Almost as if it were supposed to be curling around his hand. “Your mind’s really made up then, yeah?”

His blue eyes locked directly on hers. “Wouldn’t you do the same thing…if it were your family?”

She pressed her lips together, looking away. Rocky knew she’d do the same, knew before he even asked the question. Whether it was the ‘eldest child’ role they were both put in, or just the sheer sense of protectiveness she felt for everyone in her life, he knew she would make the same decision. Because she’d made a similar one before.

Not to the same extent, but with the same motivations.

And, if he were being honest, it was easier for him to make that decision than ask her out to the prom. He was probably the only person in the world who had that problem; facing certain death enough times before had made him so de-sensitized that he wouldn’t even entertain the thought of losing.

“Rocky?”

“Hm.” He finally looked at her.

She looked back at him, the smile had fallen from her face. “If you die, I’ll fucking kill you.”

#ask #answered ask #3 ninjas #rocky douglas #samuel rocky douglas #oc: riley jackson #roley #3 ninjas rocky #by: riley #prompt

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set-phasers-to-whump · 2 years

Text

bleeding

prompt: bleeding

whumpee: sakari nurmi

fandom: karppi

hi here's a fic for a different fandom for once! hope you enjoy it :)

He’s walking to Karppi’s apartment because his engine is acting up and he hadn’t wanted to ask anyone for a ride. It’s a nice evening, chilly and clear. The sky is dark and the streets are nearly empty. The walk is not short but he doesn’t mind. He thinks. About the case, about Karppi. About his plans for tomorrow. About nothing in particular.

It’s really pretty enjoyable, actually.

And then comes the man with the knife.

He has steady hands. The blade is shiny beneath the flickering streetlights. His voice is cold and demanding. Give me your wallet.

The knife is pointed at his throat, an inch or two of space between his skin and the blade.

He reaches for his wallet, then steps backward and grabs the man’s wrist in one fluid motion.

The guy is quick. He jerks his hand, wrenching free of Sakari’s grip and slicing his palm in the process.

“You should have just given it to me.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe.”

He ducks the first punch, just barely. He feels the fist brush across the top of his head.

He doesn’t want to fight. But he doesn’t want to give up, either.

He fights.

He does know what he’s doing. Even without a weapon, he’s capable of holding his own. He dodges and blocks and strikes back fast and hard.

He gets caught on the cheek. He feels himself start to bleed. He needs to get the knife away from this guy.

He can’t. He makes a grab for it and instead feels its point dig into his left forearm. The pain is hot and damp. The knife twists slightly as it’s pulled out of his skin.

He shouts, putting as much power as he can behind what is fundamentally a noise of pain, and launches himself back at his attacker.

He punches the man in the jaw and hears it as his head snaps backward. He kicks at his ankles and for a second the man stumbles.

Sakari moves in, but just like that the guy regains his balance and then there’s an elbow slamming into his face and there’s a sort of crunching noise and pain explodes in the center of everything. His nose is bleeding. He can taste the blood already, hot and sharp at the back of his throat. His eyes are watering and he blinks as hard as he can but still he can’t quite see.

There’s a hand in his pocket. He steps backwards, punches half-blindly.

It connects. He feels rather than sees the impact. The hand retracts.

The fight continues.

He stops caring about the knife. He doesn’t think the guy wants to kill him, anyway. He gets closer, hits harder. He gets cut more, too, but they’re small and shallow injuries.

He lands a punch to the side of the man’s head. The impact makes his knuckles hurt and it feels solid.

The man stumbles. He takes a step forward, knife outstretched, glistening with blood - with Sakari’s blood.

He collapses to his knees. Sakari stands over him, panting, bleeding. He should do something. His mind is frozen, blank. He does nothing.

The guy stumbles to his feet. They lock eyes. Sakari braces himself for another round of fighting.

The other man turns around and walks away.

Sakari watches him leave.

He’s exhausted.

He’s standing there beneath the still-flickering streetlight and it hasn’t gotten much darker because it hasn’t gotten much later even though it feels like it has been hours since he left home.

There’s blood on the ground. And on his hands. There are rips in his sweater and the material around them is sticky with blood. The stab wound in his arm throbs. So does his nose. He can feel the blood dripping down his face.

He almost sits down right there, just to rest for a moment. But he knows he needs to move. He won’t fall asleep on the sidewalk, but he very well might if he sits.

Karppi’s building is not far. He can see it in the distance. Many of the windows have lights shining from inside. He can’t see her window. Surely the light is on behind it, too.

He should call her. Tell her he’s sorry he’s going to be late.

He grabs his phone from his pocket. The screen is cracked. He has five minutes before he’s supposed to be at her place. And usually he arrives five minutes early.

He presses call.

“Hello?”

“Karppi, hey. I’m running late. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He thinks about offering to grab food as an apology, but he doesn’t want to make his journey any longer.

“What’s wrong with you? You sound sick.”

“I’m fine.” He can hear it in his voice, now. Whether the change is from his injured nose or from the blood in his mouth, he can’t tell. Probably it’s from both.

“Fine. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

He knows that she knows he’s lying. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this to her. Maybe he should stop somewhere and clean himself up in the bathroom.

But he doesn’t want to. People will stare at him and maybe offer their help, which is the last thing he wants. He’ll just go to Karppi’s and apologize for being late and then wash himself up and then they can get to work on the case.

It’ll be fine.

“So, I see you’re not fine,” is the first thing Karppi says to him when she opens the door. “What happened to you?”

He steps inside and doesn’t quite look at her.

“I got in a fight.”

“A knife fight?”

“He had a knife.”

“And why are you not at the hospital?”

“It’s just some scratches.”

“Okay.” She sounds tired. But she doesn’t push.

“Come on, then,” Karppi says, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Try not to get blood on the floor.”

He follows her, grateful that his nose is no longer bleeding.

“Sit down.”

He sinks onto the closed lid of the toilet and sniffs. It sends a wave of pain through his whole face.

Sakari watches as Karppi opens a cabinet and rifles through it, pulling out various bandages and other assorted first-aid items.

“Take off your shirt,” she says, when the counter is fairly covered in items he mostly thinks are unnecessary.

He pulls his sweater off over his head. The blood on his skin makes it stick. It hurts to peel it away.

“And your other shirt.”

He removes the tee shirt he’d had on beneath the sweater. It, too, sticks in places.

He’s left with only his skin, now. He looks down at himself for the first time.

There are several small cuts scattered across his torso and arms. There is the single deep wound on his left forearm and two cuts across his right hand. Everything is bloody. It all hurts. Looking at it makes it hurt worse.

He looks at her, instead.

She dampens a washcloth with disinfectant and he holds out his right hand to take it.

She doesn’t give him the cloth. Instead, she lightly grabs hold of his hand and cleans the blood away from the cuts. It stings but it’s not so bad. He blinks to stop the reflexive tears in his eyes.

She keeps going, cleaning the blood away from every cut and scrape that mars his skin. She’s surprisingly gentle and moves with surety. He supposes she’s had plenty of practice with Emil and Henna. In contrast, he has not been cared for like this in nearly twenty years. It’s strange. He doesn’t know whether to like it or not.

Karppi does his face last. There is only one cut, but he knows the bottom half of his face must be covered in blood from his nose.

She holds his face still and wipes the blood away. Her hand brushes against his nose and he draws in a sharp breath, pulling away.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” she says. “It’s not crooked.”

He nods slowly. It hurts, anyway, even if it isn’t broken.

She keeps going with the washcloth, her touch now very light but still painful. He’s grateful when she finally pulls away, the washcloth stained red in her hands.

She grabs a beat-up box of bandages and a tube of antibiotic cream from the counter. “I’ll only bandage the big ones,” she says.

The antibiotic, though, goes on every cut, no matter how small. He flinches away from it at first, her fingers on his bare skin. The cream is cold and it stings. Everything stings.

Karppi shakes a few bandages into her palm and spends a second staring at him before she begins applying them. They are all different sizes and clearly originally came from different boxes. Some of them are waterproof. Several have cartoon characters on them.

She saves the deep wound for last. “You might want to get stitches for this,” she says. “Your choice.”

He nods. Maybe he’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. For now, he’s content with the gauze she tapes over it.

“Do you want medicine?”

He shakes his head. He’ll be fine.

“Water, then?”

His mouth still tastes like blood. “Please.”

“Come on.”

She gives him a hand and he stands up. The exhaustion returns in full force. He follows her slowly out of the bathroom and to the couch, where she tells him to sit and wait. He does so gladly. The couch is soft and comfortable beneath him.

Karppi returns after a second with a glass of water. She hands it to him and sits down beside him, putting her feet up on the table.

The glass is heavy in his hands and it hurts to hold in either one. He drinks the water quickly, swirling it around in his mouth until the taste of blood is gone.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

He turns his head slowly to look at her. “The case,” he says.

“Can you focus?”

“No,” he admits.

“Movie then. Emil is at a sleepover and Henna’s at the cinema. We can watch anything.”

“You pick.”

Karppi sighs but reaches for the remote. Sakari blinks heavily and stares at the screen while she looks for a movie.

He falls asleep, his head pillowed on her shoulder, before the opening credits play.

thanks for reading! i have never called him sakari throughout a whole fic but i feel like since it's from his pov it makes more sense....like maybe /i/ am not on a first name basis with him but /he/ is with himself yknow? anyway hope you enjoyed, love ya!

#whumpmasinjuly #my writing #i say things #karppi #sakari nurmi #cut #fought #stabbed #only a bit #blood #cared for #putting my new icon to use with this one :)#byeeee going to the gym now

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