#I swear I'm working on What We Lost in the Fire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sp0o0kylights · 7 months

Text

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it.

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it.

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned.

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design.

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy.

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job.

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family.

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead.

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents.

How his money went into a bank account they had access to.

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line.

And boy, had he been acting out of line.

Getting into fights.

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills.

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.)

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track.

His own plans be damned.

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

“We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot.

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen.

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas.

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!”

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him.

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go.

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong.

xXx

Mike hadn’t cared.

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months.

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.)

Max was the surprising emotional standout.

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them.

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him.

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage.

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh.

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again.

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.)

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.”

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy.

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?”

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval.

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max.

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.

xXx

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom.

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble.

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter.

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago.

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck.

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles.

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!”

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.”

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large.

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road.

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone.

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it.

Now he just stared tiredly at her back.

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case.

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second.

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it.

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort.

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.”

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone.

It was just---Nancy did know.

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life.

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year.

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that.

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down.

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.)

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.”

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to.

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin.

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now.

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm.

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough.

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…”

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them.

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt.

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car.

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit.

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things.

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?”

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice.

A third time for good measure.

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.”

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really.

Not anymore.

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused.

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in.

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy.

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’

He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.”

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet.

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise.

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut.

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point.

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand.

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?”

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left.

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin.

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed.

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking.

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him.

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal.

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door.

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open.

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to.

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward.

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents?

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes.

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing .

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there.

xXx

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead.

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that.

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it.

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough.

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone.

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him.

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in.

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away.

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.)

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt.

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan.

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can.

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times.

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out.

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.”

Then; “It gets worse.”

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans.

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl.

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid,

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.”

Steve stayed silent.

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones.

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.”

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut.

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now.

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--”

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer.

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.”

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry.

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him.

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.”

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done.

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie.

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.”

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news.

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.”

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…”

He’d put his wife first. His family, first.

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one.

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess.

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored.

They’d warned him.

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic.

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was.

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.”

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle.

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary.

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind.

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come.

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie.

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger?

Steve would bow to their whims.

Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it.

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand.

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work.

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish.

Steve would try anyway.

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck.

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.”

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine.

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?”

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one.

Not when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it.

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was.

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him.

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins.

No matter how long the engagement.

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him.

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think.

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel.

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others.

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin.

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.)

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?”

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there.

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question.

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway.

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart.

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce.

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest.

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse.

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead.

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly.

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve.

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too.

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!”

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so.

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!”

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either.

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.”

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying.

Speaking of;

“When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been.

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home.

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice.

Part Two

#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished #THAT SURE LASTED LONG #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #This is very Steve focused #TW his horrible parents #VERY hurt #comforts later #with eddie!#I really wanted to explore Steves Parents #in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion #TW forced marriage #or mentions of #I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids #and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids #would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government #but neither of those things want you to like them #theyll let you know theyll eat you #Steves parents #like many rich dicks #want to isolate #want you to think theyre amazing #and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain #hence the title of this fic #whiiiich is chokechain #stranger things #tw drinking

2K notes · View notes

gallusrostromegalus · 10 months

Note

So, how exactly was the Gotei 13 formed in AEIWAM?

(The original gotei-13 captains might have canon genders but I'm going off vibes tbh.) (Here's a collection of Kubo's art of the original 13 so you can see what everyone looks like)

-----

It had started with the Clans.

Actually, it had started when Shigekuni Yamamoto was mugged for the fourth time in as many days, by agents of The Great Noble Houses, trying to influence the tide of their endless petty wars. You could hardly blame him for reacting as he did, somewhat literally blowing up with rage, and upon his return to his home office, rallying his fellow distraught men into a fighting force to stand up to the clans.

It had been quite a popular manuver for him, with the equally distraught and downtrodden citizens of the central rukongai threw their support behind him in short order. He was already well-known to them, and respected for his work. In a few short years, his meager forces had grown to rival the clans in power.

Then the Quincies had invaded the Spirit World, lead by some horrible creature known as Yhwach, seemingly Hell-Bent on conquest- which is where all of them would end up if The Archery Bastards kept shooting everything that moved and upended the balance between the worlds.

Now-General Shigekuni Yamamoto, the unfortunate bastard to whom the task of defending the largest city in the Spirit world from invasion had fallen, needed some muscle.

Why me, of all people? Surely there were others more qualified? He wondered, staring at the latest round of reports from the meager handful of his men that remained. Or perhaps everyone smart enough to actually do this is also smart enough to realize it was a lost cause and had thrown their lot in with one of the Noble Houses, and I am on a fool's errand.

Even just a handful of warriors with sufficient strength could break the leading edge of the Quincy line, and let the small army that remained slip behind them in to cut the Quincies off from their supply lines. It was just that breaking the wall of archers required at least a dozen of him.

"Word from lieutenant Sasakibe!" Shouted one of his soldiers, sprinting in the door and thrusting a letter at him. "Sorry sir I just remembered how important it was that you heard from him as soon as possible."

"You did as I asked." Yamamoto nodded, opening the letter. He had needed to stay- both to recover from his injuries and because if the Quincy got much closer, using Ryujin jakka to create a wall of fire around the city might be the only way to hold them off- and he had tasked Chojiro Sasakibe, his Longest and Dearest friend, with finding him the strongest warriors in Soul Society.

He took the scroll and opened it, reading the neat but excitably slanted handwriting within-

Dearest Shigekuni,

I am relieved to report I have found a dozen extremely powerful warriors per your request! I went on a hunch a friend of mine had, and found a concentration of MANY powerful warriors that would be willing to aid our cause, but twelve among them are particularly standout candidates. Given the rapid advance of the Quincy Army, I have included a teleportation spell to their location at the end of this scroll so you may meet them immediately.

"Incredible!" Yamamoto laughed. "Is there nothing this man cannot do?"

I do beg of you though- Please, reserve your judgement of them until you have seen their capacity.

"Ah." Yamamoto sighed. "...of course there's a catch."

Their circumstances are... complex, and this has made many of them rough and peculiar to speak to, but I swear we will not find better warriors, at least not before the Quincy advance reaches Seireitei.

I await your arrival, Chojiro

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll a bit more to see the edge of the teleportation spell that would activate when exposed to sunlight. "Sir?" asked the young soldier.

"It seems Sasakibe was successful in finding me the assistance we need, but they are apparently a queer lot." Yamamoto rumbled, thinking. "There is a teleportation spell- How close did you say the Advance was?"

"Not more than a week out, sir."

"Hopefully less than two hours then." he grunted, standing up and carrying the scroll to the courtyard of the building he operated from- it was a place used to the many comings and goings of a large and complex organization, though the little Shrine to the God of Messages and messengers had been somewhat neglected of late. Yamamoto took a moment to sweep the leaves out of the shrine and bowed to the statue within, thanking it for delivering Sasakibe's message and asking for help delivering him to his friend.

"Any orders while you're away, Sir?" The soldier asked.

"Someone clean out that shrine and make it a proper offering. The last thing we need is for communications to go down." The General nodded.

"Yes Sir!" the soldier saluted.

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll and with a flash, vanished from the courtyard.

---

With the same flash, he appeared somewhere... foggy.

"Shigekuni?" a familiarly crisp voice asked somewhere in the ether.

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto called back, and the vague shape that might have been a rock in front of him stood up, arms open. He laughed, and embraced his friend. "Good job! How did you find them so fast?"

Sasakibe's warm smile suddenly stiffened into a grimace. "...Promise you will not be angry?"

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto frowned.

"See, I was asking my friends- only the most trusted of them, I swear- how to even go about finding warriors with everything scattered to the wind of late, and well- One of them suggested that only things that are powerful are widely feared, so look where fearsome things are to find powerful ones."

Yamamoto squinted at his friend, then around them at the dense fog, the strange rocky cliff beside them, and the distant sound of angry voices.

"Chojiro." Yamamoto asked, hands on his shoulders. "Where are we?"

Sasakibe pointed up behind Yamamoto where characters had been carved into the stone cliff.

The Nest Of Maggots

"Chojiro."

"Yes, sir?"

"This is a prison."

"Yes, sir."

"This is a prison for the kind of filth that even the most bitterly factious clans agree is a danger to have wandering around. The kind that they already tried and failed to weaponize against each other. This is a prison for Monsters."

"...Yes, sir." Sasakibe sighed. "-But, is is not monsters we need?"

Yamamoto was silent for a time, thinking of the swathes of pointless destruction- salted fields and burnt villages- of the senseless loss of life- slaughtering soldier and civilian alike down to the last man, woman and child- of the cruel and twisted powers of the chosen favorites of Yhwach.

"Monsters to fight monsters." He shook his head. "What is this world coming to?" Yamamoto sighed.

Sasakibe looked away, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "Still, beggars can't be choosers." Yamamoto nodded. "Show them to me."

--- All twelve "Most Dangerous" of The Nest's prisoners had been herded together into something approximating a straight line in the middle of the rocky cavern that housed the prisoners here, though some of them were already beginning to meander, and one woman near the end of the line had, rather rudely, decided to remain seated in Yamamoto's presence. The lineup was... less than impressive. Two of the women looked like they belonged on pinup posters rather than death row. One of the men looked like a washed-up Sumo, another like an ashtray that had been cursed to roam the afterlife as a human. On one end of the line was an ancient and decrepit old man, and on the other was a- Yamamoto wasn't actually sure if they were a man or a woman, but in another life, they had definitely been a cat.

"These are the most powerful fighters in the Spirit World?" He muttered to Chojiro.

"These are the most still-alive-est fighters in the Spirit World." Chojiro clarified.

"...Fuck it. " Yamamoto sighed under his breath, before stepping forward and addressing them properly.

"I am General Shigekuni Yamamoto of The Seireitei. I don't know how long you've been in this hole-" Yamamoto paused, sensing that something was off.

None of the Prisoners were looking at him. In fact, the all seemed very dedicated to looking everywhere but at him. Some were inspecting the stalactites, others were examining the grit on the cave floor, or staring into the metaphysical abyss somewhere just over his shoulder, and one man had pulled his very silly straw hat down in front of his face.

"-Alright, what the hell is going on?" Yamamoto growled.

There was a general unenthusiastic sort of shuffling and a distinct lack of answers.

"Remember everyone!" The man next to the cat-in-human-form spoke up while examining his fingernails. He looked more like an accountant than someone who belonged on Death Row, but the others perked up and paid attention. "-We are not to speak to any guards of visitors until our representative arrives and has given us permission to do so." The others nodded and resumed looking anywhere but at Yamamoto.

"...Representative?" Sasakibe lightly growled at a guard, whose complexion went from 'ashen' to 'deathly'.

"They um. Well. They've gotten rather close to one of the other prisoners, but she's no good in a fight, so we left her-" The Guard sputtered under Sasakibe's withering glare.

"-Miss Tsubaki was waiting at the Primary gate last I saw her." continued the man who looked like an accountant and that Yamamoto was becoming increasingly sure was armed, despite allegedly having been searched and denied any tools in his confinement. "...I say to no-one in particular." He added.

There was a moment of silence.

Yamamoto struck the tired-looking, gray-haired young woman beside the accountant, sending her stumbling back, but the accountant and the sturdily-built blonde man beside her stepped in to catch her, the rest of the line snapping to attention, eyes fixed on him with utter rage.

"Now that I have your attention-" Yamamoto started again, the gray-haired woman coughing as the sturdy blonde helped her back to her feet. "-As I was saying, the Spirit World is being invaded, and you're all being conscripted to-"

"Yachiru!" Snapped a young woman behind them.

Yamamoto turned to glare at the interloper, but instead found that the gaunt-looking woman that had remained seated had somehow apparently teleported and tackled Sasakibe to the wall behind them, one arm pressed to his throat, slowly choking him. Apparently-Yachiru's other hand had put some substantial holes in his abdomen and she paused from where she was about to stark licking Sasakibe's blood off her fingers to look at who had spoken.

"Don't eat that! You don't know where it's been!" Said a waifish young woman in threadbare prisoner's robes who could not have been taller than 4'10". She was quite striking, with large, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a long aquiline nose. She took Yachiru's bloodied hand and dragged her back to the group. Yamamoto tried to keep his pace even as he walked over to check on Sasakibe, who immediately sat up and waved him off.

"...Thirsty." Grunted Yachiru- She might also have been beautiful, with her pale, round face and smooth black hair, were it not for the haunted, carnivorous look in her eye and her apparently literal bloodthirst. She stopped halfway back to the group to give a wet, hacking cough that made Yamamoto's skin crawl, and spat out a gob of bloody phlegm on the floor.

"You'll feel better when you get Minazuki back." the young woman reassured her, helping Yachiru sit back down, the others taking seats on the stone floor as well, in two neat lines behind her, the Human Cat behind one shoulder, the Accountant behind the other. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Kinroku definitely did not tell the guards to go get you." announced the man from behind his straw hat. "Also the mean old man hit Chigiri."

"I understand. Do you need assistance, Chigiri?

"The Old Goat has a sucker-punch like a rocket but I'll live." grunted Chigri, rubbing her abdomen and waving her hand interrogatively at Yachiru, who shrugged in reply.

"Despicable Behavior, hitting a medic." the human ashtray sniffed disapprovingly. Yamamoto could feel the Reiatsu of the group now, previously held in check, now starting to unfurl and growl and snarl at him.

"You BASTARDS-!" Yamamoto snarled, lunging towards the young woman, who instinctively made a fist in front of her chest, grabbed it with her other hand, and swung her whole body around, slamming her elbow into his eye socket and nose, and he stumbled, falling to his knees. It wasn't that hard a hit, not compared to what he was used to, but there was genuine killing intent behind it, much like the heel she struck into the side of his head, knocking him over the rest of the way in surprise. Miss Tsubaki's large, dark eyes were full of rage as she glared down at him, grinding his head into the floor under her toes. "Ah." He said, finally recognizing her from images in the intermittent news bulletins. Tsubaki was a middle daughter of one of the most powerful of the Noble Houses who had suddenly vanished from public view the year before. The rumor was that she had been imprisoned by her father for dangerous activities like 'Going Places' and 'Writing Letters' or even 'Having Opinions'. It was apparently true, but if she'd managed to organize the dirtiest dozen of the Maggot's Nest, he was beginning to understand her father's choice of internment. "Miss Tsunayashiro, I presume."

"I am her, and I am here in my capacity as their Union Representative. This means you do not talk to them. You talk to me." She lightly snarled, removing her surprisingly sharp-heeled foot from his temple and sitting seiza in front of the group. "Now what is it that you have brought us here to discuss?"

"Your friends are getting conscripted." he glared, slowly getting up and standing to address her. Returning the blow to a civilan, no matter who her family was or how hard she hit, was beneath either of their dignity, but a little looming was alright.

"We're getting hired." She corrected him. "With proper contracts and compensation."

"Shut up or else." He snarled, reconsidering the value of his dignity.

"...Or else what, exactly?" She asked.

Yamamoto bristled, and slowly drew his sword. Tsunayashiro's gaze flicked to the blade, following it's gleam as he brought it up to her throat, tipping her chin up with the point. "-Or you will all die right here." Tsubaki closed her eyes, sighed deeply and opened them again, gaze fixed on his. He could feel her pulse through Ryujin Jakka's blade.

...Steady as a rock.

"Alright." She spoke evenly. "Strike me down."

Yamamoto blinked.

"We are already on Death Row, General." She explained slowly as though speaking to an idiot. "None of us have families to speak of, or to speak to, for you to threaten. We're already cold and barely allowed to sleep and starving and in constant pain from broken bones or missing organs or untreated injuries. We are all already doomed to die or suffer gross abasement. You, however-"

She slowly stood up, neck sliding a bit on Ryujin Jakka's blade, drawing a trickle of blood.

"-I've been in here for the better part of a year, I believe, but news trickles in. Guards leave to replace soldiers fallen on the battlefield. Rations dwindle as farmland is overrun or destroyed. Political prisoners are freed and returned home as more popular heirs and scions are killed. You, General Shigekuini Yamamoto, need help with this war, and need it badly, to come here for it." Tsubaki continued, stepping forward and pressing a bit more into the blade, the trickle running more strongly, down her throat and into the folds of her thin Yukakta, staining the fabric bright red.

"So go on. Strike us down." She spoke softly. "Spare us the Humiliation of a Public execution or the horrors of a lobotomy, and doom yourself."

Yamamoto, quite possibly for the first time in his life, hesitated.

"If you cannot do that, sit down and negotiate like a civilized person." She said. The blood stained her entire breast now, but she did not flinch or waver.

Slowly, glaring and refusing to break eye contact, he withdrew his blade, wiped it down and sheathed it. Teeth gritted and heart unexpectedly racing, he sat. Lady Tsunayashiro followed, head still held high, though that may have been so Chigiri could lean forward and press a pad of torn robe to her throat, stemming the bleeding as she bandaged it, muttering curses.

"We're being invaded by an army of mutant humans called "Quincy" who can shoot arrows made of pure reishi, which can obliterate a soul entirely. They're lead by some monster called Yhwach, who seems hell-bent on conquering the entirety of the Living and Spirit worlds, and is apparently capable of killing small gods and Kami." Yamamoto explained, trying to stress the depth of the situation. He'd never been in a labor negotiation before, and was hoping they'd be more reasonable if he made an emotional appeal. "Kill enough of the archery bastards and live, and I'll have all your crimes pardoned."

"What a shame, what a shame." clucked the old man at the far end of the lines. "You young people just don't know how to handle things..."

"Hmmm..." The person who was definitely at least spiritually a cat pursed their lips. "Oh, uh- Chika Shihon." the bowed their head. "-It's a good start, but I'm gonna need a hell of a payday, seeing as nobody will hire an ex-criminal, even a pardoned one, and about forty more people need to die before my family will consider taking me back in."

"As well as some form of protection from political reprisals, or there won't be an opportunity to spend any of that payday." said Kinroku the Accountant, rubbing his nose like he was going to push up a pair of glasses he wasn't wearing.

"Paying criminals? Surely, you can't be serious!" Sasakibe scoffed.

"I am serious, and my name is Tsubaki, not Shirley." The representative quietly smirked at him. "Well, General? What price are you willing to offer for the salvation of all of Soul Society?"

"I want to see some proof before we talk price." Yamamoto glared at the Death Row From The Dumpster before him.

"Fair enough." Nodded Tsubaki, turning her head to address the group. "After me, who would you all say is the weakest fighter?"

The group considered this for a moment.

"Strongest is easy, its Yachiru, even with the missing lung." waved the pinup girl with the eyepatch and pigtails.

"Give Uhin some credit!" Protested the other pinup girl with the tits that were individually larger than her head.

"That's sweet of you to say Batsu-" Uhin the Giant in the back row laughed, patting the second girl's head. "-But also holy shit, no. Yachiru could disembowel me and strangle me with my own intestines before I could get off the mark! No offense little man, but I think it's Furuoki." He said, patting the straw hat of the man in front of him.

"Really?" Tits McGee pondered. "I was going to say Nobutsuna."

"I was gonna say me too." announced the human ashtray with a rough and reedy voice. "I hate fighting." "Yeah, but you hit like a fuckin' rockslide. Yeah, it's Furuoki." Agreed eyepatch.

"Mr. Otogawa-" Tsubaki addressed Furuoki the hat man. "-It's rather dark in here, would you please let in some light?"

Furuoki blinked at her, confused.

"Show the old man you can punch a hole in the ceiling." Yachiru translated for him, wetly.

"Okay!" Furuoki chirped happily, getting up and walking a few feet away.

"MORE!" yelled the group.

"Over by the guard tower!" Encouraged the large and rather jolly looking man, save for how he seemed to have lost both his lips and most of the front of his mouth, but had only bothered to replace his missing teeth with gold ones, giving him a permanent lipless grin.

Furuoki walked over towards the guard tower until the guards approached him and told him to back up, paced a bit until he found a suitable middle ground, and squinted up at the ceiling.

"Sir-" Sighed the head guard walking towards Furuoki as frowned at the ceiling. "Sir that's half a mile of solid rock and twelve different magical wards above you. It's not gonna work."

Furuoki instead dropped down on one knee, aimed, and-

A dazzling blue-green light and a noise like the roaring fires of Hell Itself erupted from his fist as he punched up towards the ceiling, vaporizing the stone above him and making all 12 wards chime and tinkle like glass as he broke through them. As the mushroom cloud of dust dispersed, sunlight began to filter in through the hole, at least 100 feet in diameter. The top third of the Guard tower seemed to have evaporated as well, and the guards were scrambling to try to control the panic.

"Is that enough?" Furuoki called.

"...Is it, General?" miss Tsubaki asked.

"...Ten Thousand Kan?" Yamamoto tried.

"That's fine dear, please come sit back down." Tsubaki waved.

"I am surprised, general." She smiled at Yamamoto in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of they way the post office cat would smile at the mice. "Ten Thousand Kan annually per individual is a very reasonable offer."

"A one-time payment of Ten thousand Kan to be split between the group." he growled.

"No." She shook he head. "You're offering us annual salaries, individually."

"The hell I am."

"Then we will enjoy watching the collapse of civilization through the new Skylight Furuoki made us." She replied, unconcerned. "You may have noticed, General, that there is a war on, and this is an exceptionally safe and secure place to be. Make it worth leaving."

"-Two minutes ago this was a frozen hellhole you were all starving in." he glared.

"Ah, but the view and property value has improved substantially in the last two minutes!" She smiled, unconcerned with his complaints. "There is no punishment you could mete out that is worse than remaining here, General, but you are not an advancing army of superhuman mutants, and there are MANY things the Quincy can do to us that are worse than remaining here. You are in a most unenviable position."

Yamamoto grimaced. "You're sure this is the best there is?" he muttered to Sasakibe.

"We could also try swearing loyalty to one noble house and hoping the other four don't try to kill us before the Quincy do." Sasakibe grunted, hand over the puncture wounds in his guts. "I don't like it either. but I like our other options even less."

Yamamoto sighed. "...Five thousand Kan Annually per individual."

"Ten thousand." replied Tsubaki.

"Seven thousand."

"Ten thousand."

"That's not how this is supposed to go." Yamamoto grumbled.

"And yet, this is how it's going." She smirked. "There is also the matter of the political protections!"

"DAMMIT!"

---

Half an hour later, terms had been reached.

Full pardons, Ten Thousand Kan, annually per individual (plus expenses), and political protections in the form of employing them as commanding officers on the condition that they "-Don't get killed, and prove you're smarter than a sack of hammers and at least half as useful."

"No for real, I'll forgive the old man the gut punch, lemme do something so you're not bleedin' all over my contract?" Chigiri sighed, watching Sasakibe write up the contracts.

"I'll trust my body to keep my guts on the right side of my skin over someone's dirty socks." he sighed. "Or do you have something else on hand?"

"Minazuki." Muttered Yachiru, leaning heavily on Chigiri.

"Oh right! I keep forgetting she does the fish thing." Chigiri perked up. "Yeah tell the guards to go get her sword, it turns into a... fuckin' whatsit, the big flat fish? Turns into one of those that can heal anything."

"Again, I trust my own faculties over any sort of Healing Halibut." Chojiro groaned.

"Stingray." Yachiru muttered, wheezing a bit. "Minazuki is a stingray."

"Alright, back in line everyone- I need you all to confirm your identities and what crimes you need pardoned, and to sign your contracts." Sasakibe sighed, standing up with the contracts and handing the first to Yamamoto.

"Shigekuni Yamamoto, Dereliction of duty and Mail-tampering, among other assorted sins." He said, smirking a bit at his own joke as he took the contract.

"Thank you sir." Sasakibe sighed, shuffling the pile of folders containing the files of the dozen criminals, and stepping up to the first one.

"Chika Shihon-" He read off, matching the drawn portrait to the person in front of him- Chika was a rather handsome young thing, with warm bronze skin and short, soft white hair. It was the gleam in their yellow eyes that made Sasakibe worry. "- Sentenced to lifetime imprisonment or death for staging a clan coup, twelve counts of fratricide and... dabbling in forbidden Kido?"

"Oh, like you've never had a family dinner that got out of control!" Chika huffed, indignant.

"I'm more curious about the Kido, actually." Yamamoto said, peering over his file.

Chika beamed and Sasakibe got as far as a choked "NOT HERE-!" before they vanished in a cloud of smoke. When it cleared, they were still wearing the same excited expression, but now as a small white house cat.

Sasakibe and Yamamoto stared at the cat for a moment, then at each other in a mutual expression of I can't believe we've been reduced to asking these freaks for help.

"Well, when you've got thumbs again, please read your contract, then sign and initial all the indicated areas, and swipe your blood across the bottom." Sasakibe sighed, bending over to hand the kitty their contract. "Remember, these contracts are legally and magically binding. Betray us, and die immediately."

"Next is- Kinroku Izuhara-" Sasakibe was interrupted by one of guards appearing with the confiscated personal belongings of the prisoners, including an entire bundle of swords under his arm.

"I understand not giving us our weapons until the contracts are signed and the seal is placed upon us, but may I have my glasses back?" Kinroku asked, voice crisp and arch. He was certainly the least ragged-looking of the group, his graying hair still neatly trimmed and face clean-shaven.

Yamamoto held out a hand and the guard placed the appropriate glasses in his palm. "Trade you for whatever you have that's kept you so clean-shaven it's making my mustache itch." Yamamoto glared.

Kinroku smirked, and produced a piece of bone that had been exquisitely sharpened into a razor's edge.

"This is a human bone." Yamamoto observed.

"Unfortunately, poorer quality than the bones of pigs or cattle in terms of holding an edge, but it's done it's job." Kinrku nodded.

"...This says you're on death row for ...Tax Evasion?" Sasakibe glared at the file as the blade was traded for the glasses.

"Yes. I made an unfortunate miscalculation regarding the loyalty of my men, so I am glad you are taking adequate precautions." Kinroku muttered, cleaning his glasses on his robe, holding them up to the dim sunlight filtering through the hole, and frowning, disappointed.

"Men?" Yamamoto asked. "You've had experience commanding armed forces before?"

"After a fashion." he said, signing the contract and biting into his thumb to finish the deal. "You've heard of The Vipers of the southern reaches?"

"The decentralized bandit gang that disbanded a few years back? I thought their leader had died?" Sasakibe frowned.

Kinroku smirked at him.

"...Oh, for fuckssake." Sasakibe groaned.

"Chigiri Shijima." Yamamoto read off, having already moved on. "...What the hell kind of charge is Aggravated Medical Research?"

"Can't make an emergency field medicine manual omlette without breaking a few bones. And causing a few disembowelments. And poking out a few eyes." She explained.

Yamamoto slowly arched an eyebrow at her.

"I PUT 'EM ALL BACK!" Chigiri protested. "...Eventually."

"Read. Sign. Blood." Yamamoto sighed, handing her the contract.

"For real though, your man okay? I can have those stitched in under a minute." Chigiri pointed her thumb at Sasakibe.

"That's some fast-acting painkillers." Sasakibe noted.

"What painkillers?" Chigiri asked, genuinely confused.

"...I'll take my chances with the halibut." Sasakibe winced, turning to the next man in line. "Danjiro Obana?"

"Yeah!" Grinned the sturdy-looking blonde man, all smiles and friendliness now that an agreement had been reached. "Lookin' forward to workin' with you guys!"

"...Imprisoned for cannibalism?" Sasakibe asked, horrified.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Danjiro hollered, voice echoing around the cavern.

"How do you accidentally consume human flesh?" Yamamoto glared.

"Well- okay it wasn't an 'accident' per se, but look, that Ise Clan guy locked me in the family mausoleum to die, and understandably, I got the munches, and the coffins were fulla, eh... post-sapient jerky?" Danjiro explained. "I really don't know what he expected to happen. Really surprised when he opened up the door a month later and I gut punched his spine out though. I don't regret that one bit."

"You know? That's fair." decided Sasakibe, handing him a contract. "Read, sign, blood."

"Yessir!" Danjiro saluted happily.

"Furufoshi Saito?" Yamamoto asked the young woman with the purple pigtails and eyepatch that was next in line.

"I DID NOT 'KIDNAP' HIM, HE'S MY HUSBAND AND THEY'RE ALL A BUNCH OF PRICKS!" She roared.

Yamamoto blinked at her, then leaned over to read "Accused of Abducting and 'Deflowering' the eldest son of the Kuchiki clan' on her file. "...Care to elaborate on that?"

"I found poor Kyoga-kun half-dead on my doortstep after the battle of River Bo- he still had spears in him, the poor thing! So like a sane and reasonable person I took him in and nursed the sweet thing back to heath and- well, a beautiful man in my bed, grateful to me for saving his life and offering me his eternal love and gratitude- How could a girl resist?" She sighed, hearts in her remaining eye.

"-and since I'd carried him over the threshold into my home we were basically married already, so it wasn't wrong of me to ride him like a pony or violate his warranty like that! He loved it! He loves ME! AND I LOVE HIM! It's just that the rest of the Kuchiki clan are a bunch of snobs with no sense of romance." She sighed, melancholy, then looked up at him, chewing her lip in nervousness. "...You haven't. heard anything about him?"

Yamamoto considered her story, and the few times he'd met Kyoga Kuchiki- a delicate young man with a sense of romantic grandeur and when he'd seen the boy recently, he had been lying facedown on the floor and sobbing, in quite some distress over being separated from his beloved-

"...Daddy Bear?" Yamamoto asked, bewildered.

"MY LITTLE BABY BEAR REMEMBERS ME!" She shrieked with joy, "Is he alright? I've been so worried, he still wasn't over that septic infection and the war keeps getting closer-" She demanded, grabbing Yamamoto by his Kosode and shaking him for answers.

"-As of last month, he was distraught over your absence, but otherwise hale. The sooner the Quincy are dead, the sooner you can see him again. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, detangling himself from her and putting the contract between them.

"Ah, Ever-turbulent but true runs the course of Love." sighed the charred man beside her. "Nobotsuna Shigyo, at your service." he introduced himself, bowing politely.

"I'm Batsu'unsai Katori- We were arrested and imprisoned for roughly the same incident and it may help to be introduced at the same time." Said the woman with the exceptionally large breasts beside him. "Um, I'll need my glasses back too- Oh, thank you!"

"The sight of sunlight is so strange after such time." Mused Nobotsuna. "Even before our imprisonment, the Lady Katori and I were leaders of a secret underground society!"

"It was less of a society and more of a Polycule that got out of control-" Explained Batsu'unsai. "Once I discovered by spiritual powers, I moved in with the great sage Shou Dokutsu, and began hanging out with and then dating other people with spiritual powers and they started bringing their partners to my district and pretty soon there were so many of us that the easiest way to house everyone was to start developing the extensive underground cave systems in the area."

"We manufactured many fine magical artifacts, so called ourselves The Under-Wares!" Said Nobotsuna.

"We actually called ourselves The Kido Union, because in addition to the magical tools, we formed a united labor front to keep the clans from exploiting us." She explained, and Yamamoto began to understand her interruption.

"I am the wise Loremaster of our people!" Said Nobutsuna.

"He's a stablehand." Batsu'unsai smiled.

"But the clans did not like that they were no longer able to exploit and abuse us now that we had allied in great numbers, and war came to our peaceful nation of Shou's Hole!" he said, with genuine sadness.

Yamamoto and Sasakibe looked back at Batsu'unsai.

"It actually is called Shou's Hole." she sighed. "He just wanted it so badly."

"I wore them down!" Notbotsuna grinned.

"Still, the clans did not like that they now had to pay to have magical labor done and that we would outright refuse their more barbaric requests, and eventually I think it was the Shibas that mounted an all-out assault on us. Last I heard, most of the Union made it out through the other exits from the caves, but Dokutsu-san and most of our heavy hitters stayed at the primary entrance to buy time. Nobotsuna and I were the only ones to survive the assault, and Hiraku Shiba had us thrown in here." Batsu'unsai sighed.

"Prick." Spat Nobotsuna. "Oh sure, when a head of one of the so-called 'Noble' houses goes around decapitating people and burning them alive it's considered 'honorable combat' and 'keeping the peace', but when I, a man whose family tree isn't a fucking wreath of incest, retaliates in a decidedly less lethal fashion suddenly its 'treason' and 'making up a spell called Penis Blast is a war crime'!!"

"-What kind of blast?" asked Sasakibe.

"He can demonstrate it for us on The Archery Bastards. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, thrusting contracts at them.

"Entetsu Kumoi." Read off Sasakibe as they came to the bald man who was nearly as wide as he was tall, with the exposed gold teeth. Entetsu looked up from where he'd finished putting his glasses back on and arranged his hairless brows into something that indicated that he'd be smiling politely if he had lips. "Imprisoned for your participation in the riot at the Windroad House, where you..." Sasakibe frowned at the file. "-Attacked and killed one hudred fifty-seven town guards with a brick, and mounted an assault on the local Dyamo?"

"Always morally correct, hittin' cops with bricks." Nodded Entetsu. "-Specially ones comin' t' kill just because some people are out havin' a good time, doin' no harm to no-one."

"The Windroad House is a Bar in the 3rd district famous for it's ah. Exotic. Cabaret performances." Sasakibe explained to Yamamoto, who didn't get out much.

"You were. At one of these performances?' Yamamoto asked.

"Ah, nah- just gotten off the job and had nipped down to the pub across th'way for a pint when I saw the pigs kick in the door an' start dragggin' the ladies out and I thought 'well that ain't right', so I started throwin' bricks until I were on me last brick and then I hunted them down wit' that last brick until there were none left." he explained. "Then I thinks, 'well, there's only none left until more come from the station', so's I made me way up the road to the station wit' me brick and had me a little hogslaughter up there too, see?"

"...And you just. kept going?" Sasakiba asked.

"So's I did! Right up to the head hog's trough, though by then it were well early in the mornin' and I were tired an' had some dozen spears in me back and me brick had fallen apart, so's I dinna get hims haunches fer ham." Entetsu sighed.

"Persistence! Very good quality in a captain!" Grinned Yamamoto, handing him the contract. "You know what to do by now."

They turned to the rather comely young man with the straw hat. "Furuoki, was it?" Yamamoto asked, feeling something that wasn't hopeful, per se, but these were strong people, and deeply insane and they were agreeing to help him, something that made his heart race with a delirious sort of mania.

"Yes. I am Furuoki Otogawa." he nodded.

"-And you're imprisoned here for- ecological terrorism, defiling holy a holy site and creating a dangerous magical device?" Sasakibe asked.

"What?" asked Yachiru, getting back to her feet and leaning heavily on him. "You told me you were in here for Jaywalking?"

"I thought I was?" Said Furuoki, frowning and tipping his head with confusion.

"It says here you constructed a device over the Tenjo no Ganbo waterfalls to, ah- 'suck up the carp in the pool at the base of the waterfall and launch them, at speed, up and over the waterfall'." Sasakibe read off and looked up to see Furuoki staring into the distance, eyes watering.

"They wanted to get to the lake at the top so badly they were swimming up the waterfall, but they kept falling down and getting hurt!" he sobbed, overcome with emotion. "I just made a chute to safely carry them to the top and gently toss them in the lake! how is that a crime?"

"-because when a carp makes it to the top of Tenjo no Ganbo falls, IT TURNS INTO A DRAGON! YOU MADE HUNDREDS OF DRAGONS SUDDENLY APPEAR! THOUSANDS BEFORE THEY COULD DISMANTLE THE DAMN THING!!" Sasakibe shouted.

"Ohhh." Furuoki said, nodding. "-I'd wondered where all the dragons had come from. I still don't see why that's a crime though?"

"Gods help us." Groaned Yamamoto.

"Dragons tend to be. Kinda destructive." Yachiru spoke slowly, her voice still rough and hollow-sounding. " 'specially to little villages."

"Oh." Furuoki said quietly, horrified.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with them once I get my lung back and bust outta this joint." Yachiru reassured him as Sasakibe handed Furuoki his contract.

"You wont be 'busting out' of anywhere, miss-" Sasakibe suffled the papers to open her file. "-Yachiru Unohana! You're obligated to serve General Yamamoto in exchange for your freedom, seeing as you're imprisoned for- for-"

Sasakibe froze, staring at the file. "-That has to be a Mistake."

"What?" Grunted Yamamoto, sizing the woman up. According to the group, if Furuoki who could rip this heavily fortified prison open like an ant's nest was their weakest fighter, this sickly-looking woman was their strongest.

"The file says she's imprisoned for killing ten thousand people!" babbled Sasakibe.

"Oh, no, that isn't right." grunted Yachiru, and Sasakibe sighed with relief.

"-Should be closer to twelve or fifteen thousand." She clarified, and Sasakibe went white.

"Read, sign, mark with your blood at the bottom." Yamamoto sighed, thrusting the contract at her.

"Uhhh... can't." She said, staring blankly at the contract, then slowly looking up at Yamamoto.

"What do you mean 'can't'?" he growled.

"I can't read." she said.

Sasakibe hid his face in his hands, groaning with pain, while Yamamoto turned on his heel and threw his hands in the air, silently beseeching any available Gods for help.

"You get what you pay for, General." Called Chika, having changed back into the clothes they'd arrived in- garish red-orange and black ninja garb of the Shihon clan- and tying their sword back onto their gaudy belt.

"I am paying all of you a frankly OBSCENE amount of money, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect basic literacy!" Yamamoto snapped.

"It's okay girl, I'll read it to you and then you can have Minazuki back, okay?" Chigiri volunteered, wrapping an arm around her illiterate compatriot and walking her back to some seat-height rocks.

"Let's just get this over with." Yamamoto sighed, glaring at Tsubaki, who only smiled serenely back at him. "Uhin Zenjoji?"

"Present, sir." Beamed the enormous man who looked like a professional Sumo wrestler- there was fat, lots of it, but underneath, an unsettlingly steady grace and power to his movements.

"Your file says you're imprisoned for Smuggling, Murder, Bootlegging, Murder, Trafficking, Murder, More murder and... one hundred seventy two violations of The Migratory Bird Act?"

"The only two I will dispute are the trafficking and migratory bird charges-" he said, delicately holding up two fingers. "-firstly, it's not trafficking to move refugees from the clan wars out of danger without giving the aforementioned clans a cut. I'm no pimp."

"And the birds?" Yamamoto glared, intrigued more than anything.

"A man may have his hobbies and his charitable works!" Uhin said, touching his hand to his chest in faux-impassioned speech. "I collect and breed rare and endangered birds- the world would a sadder place without their songs. So I have- well, had- an aviary up in the mountains where they could be propagated in peace." Uhin sighed.

"Huh. Something nearly bordering on sanity." said Sasakibe said, offering Uhin his contract.

"Got any of them- whatsit- the big kicky bitches?" Danjiro asked.

"Cassowaries?" Uhin asked. "But of course! Delightful little creatures."

Yamamoto decided he didn't hear that, actually, and turned his attention to the final member of the dirty dozen.

"Hello young man!" the decrepit old man creaked cheerfully. "I am Saizo Sakahone." he was bald, liver-spotted, missing teeth and had a spine that bowed like a fishing rod with something much too large for the boat on the end of the line.

"Sakahone like the province?" asked Yamamoto, remembering the western area he'd traveled through recently.

"...In a manner of speaking, I suppose?" Saizo grinned. "Though it's rather the other way around- my lovely wife, may she rest in peace, managed to bear me no less than sixteen beautiful daughters, and they bore at least a dozen granddaughters and so on- Why, by my one thousand one hundred and eleventy-eth birthday, I had somewhere over fifty thousand descendants! So I am not so much named after the province, as the province is named after me!" he chucked.

"...by the Gods." marveled Sasakibe.

"Look, I love my sword too but at least I take it out of the scabbard sometimes." sighed Yamamoto. "What're you in for, family man?"

"O-ho! Now that was quite rash of me, I'm afraid. Yes-" Saizo nodded, rubbing his gnarled-oak hands. "-but as you say, I am a family man and there is nothing I despise so much as someone who does violence to children. No, no, nothing more vile in the world than that..."

Yamamoto felt Sasakibe go stiff beside him, and glanced over. Sasakibe tipped the file closer for his friend to read.

"-The total annihilation of the Uchimaki clan?" Yamamoto asked.

"I was born a shepherd, my boy. My people have been herding cattle over the hills of my province since there were cattle and hills to herd them over. When rot and madness like that turns up in a line- you need to cull backwards at least three generations or it'll set root and spread through your whole herd." he sighed. "What a shame, what a shame, but it had to be done, or they would have learned to turn a profit, treating children like that, and then we'd never be rid of it."

"I saw the crater. Half a mile deep and three times as wide." Said Yamamoto, mustache trembling. "I thought the wrath of the Gods themselves had descended upon them."

"Hm." Saizo nodded, jaw trembling a bit with palsy. "Hm, yes. That's what it felt like."

"Would you like to feel it again?" Yamamoto asked.

"No." Saizo shook his head, but slowly straightened up as much as he could- he must have been close to seven feet tall before the scoliosis set in- flexing his hands and rolling his neck, the power held withing that body starting to come off him in shimmering golden steam. "-but if that's what it takes for me to go home again, then I will be the tool of the Gods once more."

Yamamoto offered him the contract, and did not need to give him instructions.

Behind them, there was a quiet but extremely invasive wet noise and Yamamoto turned to see Unohana unsheath her... well, it lived in a scabbard but it was a muddy green and unusually gooey for a sword. Minazuki bubbled forth from her scabbard, trilling faintly as she solidified and formed into a mottled green cyclopean stingray, large enough to swallow a man, nuzzling at her human affectionately.

"Huh. She does seem to have an exceptionally intimate bond with her Zanpaktou..." Sasakibe noted, then flinched as Minazuki's mouth opened to reveal a fleshy interior of writhing tentacles and strange glands. Without hesitation, Unohana shed her prisoner's robe, which was apparently the and stepped inside to be swallowed with a sigh of relief.

"Very intimate!" grinned Chigiri at Sasakibe's shoulder. "My offer to stitch you up is still on the table, unless you want to develop a similarly intimate relationship with a fish."

"Never did care for seafood..." Sasakibe muttered.

"What about Tsubaki-san?" Furofushi frowned. "Where's her contract?"

"I came here for fighters." Yamamoto shook his head, turning to Tsubaki. "But you are right that The Maggot's Nest is a secure fortress in it's own right. The war is no place for a pri-"

He stopped, staring. Tsubaki had sat down and was rubbing her feet, fingers laced between her toes. She glanced up at him, then down at her feet, smirked, and sat back, wiggling her toes. "No, I agree, the front is no place for a Princess, but it is very much a place for a Diplomat, isn't it?" she asked.

Yamamoto blinked. "I have been thoroughly disinherited from any political position I may have inherited, so I am no princess." She explained, rolling her ankle with a smirk. "-and you are, if I may make an estimation based on my training as a Lady Of Society and now that all of our contracts are signed and bonded, terrible at negotiations."

Yamamoto shook himself, trying to pretend he hadn't been staring at her arches. "...I thought it went fine? Nobody lost a hand."

She smiled, and walked up beside him, lacing her arm with his and gently patting his hand. "My dear. If bookies had been allowed to lay bets on this encounter, the odds of me losing my head would have been considered a sure thing, and the odds on my being able to convince you to properly hire us and pay us, I agree, an 'obscene' amount of money so slim that anyone who took my side would now be a very rich idiot."

Yamamoto squinted at her, trying to translate that in his head.

"...You've conned me." He glared.

"Quite badly, I'm afraid." She smiled.

"You've conned me, but you can con say, that idiot that runs the Omeda clan or the obnoxious boy with the cock's comb that follows Yhwach around even worse." He tried.

Miss Tsubaki smiled, and laced her fingers with his.

"I'm going to have someone much smarter than me write up your contract." he nodded. "Sasakibe? Can you get us home in a-"

Yamamoto turned to see his friend, standing with his robe open while Chigiri knelt before him. Yamamoto blinked in bewilderment, and then realized the woman was stitching his wounds up at speed, her face close to his navel to focus on her work.

"...Hurry?" Yamamoto asked.

"Boss if I go any faster I'm gonna sew his bellybutton shut." Chirigi replied, not looking up.

"She is almost done, sir." Sasakibe winced. "Please don't interrupt her work?"

--- It took a good half hour to get everyone together to leave- clothes changed, signed out of the Maggot's nest and their custody turned over to Yamamoto, Nobotsuna trying to smuggle his "pet" Salamander out, several other prisoners saying tearful goodbyes to Tsubaki and her taking their information down 'for later', Minazuki trying to eat the salamander, and further mayhem while Sasakibe finished drawing the teleportation circle but soon they were lined up, and as the spell activated, Tsubaki gripped Yamamoto's arm rather firmly.

But in a flash, they were returned to Headquarters, Tsubaki blinking from the bright sun.

"General!" the soldier saluted. "Good to see you again! No news from the front, but we have received word the Shihon clan has made an alliance with the Fon clan as the advance approaches their homeland."

"HAH!" Shouted Chika. "Either cousin Genki pulled his head out of his ass or whatever cousin they're on now has good taste! Mingyan is a BABE and a half."

"Nice digs, very nice." Nodded Danjiro, looking around the courtyard. "...Looks really familiar for some reason. Never been to Seireitei, but I swear I've been in a building just like this?"

The other criminals looked around the courtyard, frowning and muttering about how it DID look familiar, and not at all like barracks.

There was a distressing hurgling sort of noise behind them and Minazuki spat out Yachiru Unohana, who tumbled out, nude and covered in slime. She rolled to the foot of the shrine, and sat up, blinking at the statue inside.

"Hey-" She called, voice still low and a rough but the hollow wetness had gone. "-Why's the military got a shrine to Yatagarasu?"

The others looked at the shrine and then around the building again. The orderly layout, the way the men were fit and professional but not precisely military, the extensive filing and sorting system visible through the open doors, Yamamoto's confession to Mail-tampering, the shrine to the Messenger of the Gods...

"You know, I did think it was rather strange that you were able to rally a small but apparently quite fast and very loyal army without the aid of any major clans." Tsubaki sighed. "How very industrious of you, Postmaster-General Yamamoto!"

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #chojiro sasakibe #yachiru unohana #Original Gotei-13 captains

593 notes · View notes

milky-aeons · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

౨ৎ . . . the way in which CHUUYA NAKAHARA apologises after saying some things he did not mean.

warnings: swearing, arguments, hurt/comfort, female reader, jealousy, verbal fighting, glass smashing, emotional dysregulation, vulgarity, alcohol intake, pet-names, w.c 1.9k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ stay — the kid LAORI, justin bieber ꒱ ˎˊ-

You slammed the door with enough force to rattle it against its hinges.

That didn't stop Chuuya Nakahara from tearing it back open again.

He stormed into your shared hotel room after you. "Just what the hell is your problem, hah?!"

Fury was a blazing inferno in your eyes when you spun around to face him and all of his gall.

"My problem? My fucking problem!" You hissed, throwing your small clutch onto the bed. It bounced around until it hit the headboard, the small thump of it sounding like a warning shot. Quiet descended, tight, tenuous, stretching between the both of you until one of you decided to light the spark.

Your cheeks puffed out. You jabbed your finger at him. "How dare you blame me on all of this. You're the one that decided to act like an animal at a formal dinner and throw a champagne bottle at someone!"

Chuuya folded his arms, the lean muscles straining against his expensive blazer. "Not my fuckin' fault that the shithead couldn't stop ogling at ya. Like a lovesick puppy — he woulda started droolin' if I didn't do somethin' about it."

It hadn't been a detrimental business partner the organisation had just lost tribute to your General boyfriend and his temper — but they had been high enough in the drugs underworld that the Port Mafia would take a serious blow, because of it. The Boss was bound to not take this lightly. Although whatever punishment awaited you when you returned to headquarters was not the dominant thought that made your heart thrum an angry rhythm. It was not what called blood to your flushed cheeks, your arms to flail out in frustrated, furious movements.

"You can't just go for any man that wants to look at me, Chuuya!" You shouted, your arms stretched wide in an obvious gesture.

His eyes hardened. "Can't I?"

"No! That's irrational. You'll start fights with organisations worth more trouble than you need, all because you can't keep your damn temper under control!"

Too worked-up to stay in the same place, Chuuya had begun to move. Aimless, jittery pacing that circled around your hotel suite. He stalked over to the small table in the corner decorated with complimentary crystal glasses and a whiskey tumbler, and poured himself a healthy serving. His rock hard shoulders — so wound and tense — didn't even shift when he knocked the entire drink down in one swig.

He said nothing.

The silence was so pressing, so agitating. Like a thousand tiny pinpricks dancing down the planes of your skin. There was a quiet, rational little voice that cooed at you in the back of your mind; whispering that this wasn't worth it, that it would be better to let him calm down before you broached the subject like two adults in love. You were a level headed woman — that voice was usually your pillar of reason. So why was it that tonight, after the carnage that had ensued, you were itching for a fight rather than trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb this situation was turning into.

You didn't care.

You were on fire. You were livid.

You had to burn.

"Oh, so you're gonna ignore me now, huh?" The words were flying past your lips against conscious will. You noticed the way Chuuya's neck muscles jumped at the grating tremour in your voice. "You think that's how we should deal with it — just sweep it under the rug?"

A sound; akin to a growl, rumbled in his chest. "Just drop it, princess."

"No. No, I won't drop it. You can't parade me around like I'm yours to claim, Chuuya! I'm a person. I can speak to men if I so please, or do you want to shove me into a pretty cage, tell me to just blink and smile?"

"I said," Chuuya's tone rose. His temper was becoming hard to control, again. Fraying at the edges until it was uncertain where he stood. "To drop it, princess."

"Oh — and another fucking thing—!"

SMASH!

First, there was the sound. Then your startled brain, catching up, watching as the rain shower of glass shards smattered over the red carpet. You gasped, your eyes wide, darting them back to your lover who had just hurled his empty whiskey glass so forcefully against the wall it had exploded into pieces. He rounded on you, and you've never seen his eyes look so frightening. They burned a cold fire, morphing the beautiful planes of his face into something sharper, something more alien.

The man who stalked over to you with quick snapping strides was not your tender boyfriend who hugged you close to his chest at night and murmured into your hair. Now, he was a ruthless Mafia Executive, and he was furious.

"You're such a fuckin' blabbermouth, y'know that? Always lettin' it run, like you did with that guy at the dinner table. If your mouth is that loose then, baby doll, why don't you just let him fuck it, since you seem to like using it so damn much?"

His words were so unexpected, so cruel, that they twisted into harsh daggers and speared right for your heart. It was almost like you had been physically struck; the way you gasped, how you took a small step back at the force of it. Your lips parted and you drew in a shaky breath. Something must have given way on your face — because in a blink, the storm in Chuuya's eyes parted. He refocused. And when he did, his expression softened somewhat. The echoes of his words crackled around like the broken pieces of his whiskey glass.

Pressure began to build at the back of your eyes. You ducked your head so it hid underneath your styled bangs.

Chuuya bristled. He took a small step forward, his hand twitching out.

"Baby... [Name], I—"

You twisted out of his reach and stormed around him. Your heels pounding against the floor until you reached the bathroom, throwing yourself inside and shutting the door. Through the blood pumping in your ears, you thought you heard him call out to you, and then he was there; on the other side of the door that you leaned against. You knew he was there — always knew when your partner in crime was nearby, be it by the pattern of his breathing, the sound of his footsteps. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the door, cursing when the tears brimmed over.

There was a loud thump on the other side of the wood. You couldn't see, but Chuuya had pitched forward to lean his head against the door.

"Baby, open the door. Please. That was fucked of me — I'm sorry."

The bottom of your lip wobbled — you sucked it between your teeth, trying to stifle the little sob that hiccupped in your throat. You wanted him to leave. You wanted him to tear the door down and fight to get to you. Your chest hurt so much; like there had been a hole ripped in the middle of it. His words played over and over again in your mind and stretched that hole all the more wider.

"Baby doll," Chuuya whispered, knocking softly. "Baby, please, please open the door."

You're such a fuckin' blabbermouth, y'know that?

"I'm sorry. [Name], you're right. I'm a shitshow when I can't control my temper. I'm a fuckin' mess in that department and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, princess. You don't fuckin' deserve that."

If your mouth is so loose then, baby doll, why don't ya just let him fuck it?

You shook your head from side to side. "No. No I don't." You sniffed. "Fuck you, Chuuya."

"Deserve that." He murmured.

"You're such an asshole, sometimes."

"Deserve that, too."

"Absolute pain in my ass."

"Now you're just being nice."

A broken little chuckle tried to rumble up your throat. Damn him, making you laugh when you were supposed to be seething at the teeth. You reached up to rub the streaks of tears from your cheeks with the back of your hands. You stole a quick glance in the bathroom mirror, and contemplated splashing some water on your face to tame the angry red puffiness. No. He needed to know how badly that had hurt you. Let him see you in this mess, let him feel the guilt.

You huffed and turned around, gripping the handle of the door and pulling it open.

He was centimetres away. His hat had been discarded; the wildfire tendrils of his curly hair stuck up in all directions; like he had been furiously raking his hand through it. Chuuya's eyes widened when you were suddenly in front of him again, and then they shuttered.

"Oh, baby," He choked out. Then, like it was instinctive, went to reach for you—

One of your hands came up in between you two, instructing him to stop in his tracks. You levelled your watery eyes on his, waiting. It didn't take long for him to get the memo.

His throat bobbed when he swallowed. "I'm sorry," He said, throwing every ounce of his energy into it. While your mafioso lover wasn't the best at regulating his emotions, you had a lot more respect for yourself than that, and were willing to wait.

Your eyebrows rose. "For?"

"Being an asshole."

"And?"

"Sayin' such a shitty thing to ya."

"And?"

Chuuya grumbled something indistinct under his breath. He flickered his eyes down and shifted his weight. He scowled. But not long passed before he spat out the words;

"For throwin' the bottle at that lovesick little asshole."

You let his words hang in the air, let them dissipate and wash against the hurt in your chest. Being with Chuuya Nakahara wasn't easy — but neither was love in any relationship. You had your fights, you had your nasty fights that brought out things none of you wanted to say, nor really meant. But it always ended like this; with either one of you seeking the other out, desperate to restore the balance, to take back everything you said.

It wasn't a good cycle. But it was one that you both worked on, day by day, piece by piece. And you promised it would be worth it. Every stubborn little inch of it.

The moment your shoulders collapsed with your sigh — Chuuya took it as his sign. He passed the threshold of the bathroom, eager to dispel the distance between you both. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. Your eyes slipped closed as the scent of him enveloped you; leather and smoke, with a hint of his expensive cologne he saved for events just like this.

His grip tightened. You felt the splay of his long fingers hidden in leather in the valley between your shoulders; exposed by the backless ballgown.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice so uncharacteristically small. Chuuya turned to bury into your neck and you let him, bringing your hand to rub soothingly against his head.

You turned into his chest and burrowed further. Listening to his erratic heartbeat, wondering if it belonged to him or the god of destruction sharing part with his body. But when you looked up at him; into those eyes that were all the shades of blue, all Chuuya Nakahara, you had your answer loud and clear.

They flickered over your face in that moment. He reached up, padding the damp skin underneath your eyes tenderly. "I'm—"

You didn't let him finish — instead, you raised up on the balls of your feet and connected your lips. A soft, heart breaking kiss, your hands coming to rest on either side of his face, his hand cradling the back of your head gingerly — like you were made of glass, and this time, he wouldn't break it. Wouldn't even dare.

The kiss reminded you why it was worth it — why this was worth it. Why there was nothing in this world that could make you give up on each other.

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara fluff #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #🎋 — writing requests

297 notes · View notes

bahrtofane · 3 months

Text

here we go again - pt.2

pt.1, pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. but, a familair face is here to save the day

word count - 2.2k+

watch it - jude is still an ass sorrehhh. angsy angst and more angst ! ur welcome

-----

You don't know where the hell you are, what time it is. A few more minutes you're going to forget your own name and start screaming to feel something other than misery. So much for the holiday of love. You are feeling so much love you could jump out of a plane. With no parachute. And land on a pile of rocks.

You kick a trash can out of frustration and groan at the impact it gives your poor exposed and suffering toes.

You can not believe the events of today. Everything keeps replaying over and over like a broken projector. The fact that he got you to dress up in your favorite special occasion floor length dress just to have it drag across the grimy dirty fucking disgusting club floor. Oh god you want him dead.

You're deep into Birmingham nightlife by the time your senses come back to you enough to fish your phone out of your bag. The bag is a birthday gift from your mother of all people forced to be seen among that bunch of people,it makes you seeth.

You should have known taking you to Birmingham wasn't a good idea. It made no sense in your head, why fly from Madrid to god damn Birmingham. You both live and work in Madrid? Your sweet naive mind thought he came up with something unique, something sweet.

You groan the second your phone turns on. One too many notifications to keep up with and by the looks of it they aren't stopping anytime soon. Twitter is blowing up, you already know what it is. A bunch of low quality pixels of you entering with him and looking lost with a bunch of tacky headlines. You'll get that settled when you get home. You go to order an uber, but your phone manages to die on you miraculously. How lucky. All the times you spent trying to get a hold of Jude really drained the battery. You clench your jaw.

Good god. You shove your phone back in your purse and keep stomping through birmingham. Shivering with each step. You didn't bring a jacket, how foolish.

You try to follow streets you think you know, but it's not going very well. There aren't very many people this far out. Leave it to fucking Jude to take you to the worlds more obscure club location. It's been about an hour since you left him at the club you think. An hour of walking through alley ways and neighborhoods that only raise the hair on the back of your neck. He couldn't even get you a ride home?

You think the last person you saw was a nurse chucking coffee at a bus station, the bus that you tried to catch but it sped away faster than your aching legs could take you. Better night than yours you're sure. You wander about trying to find at least a store open to be able to call for a taxi.

You hear the crunch of slowing tires come up behind you, and you instantly quicken up your pace. You almost swear you hear your name shouted, but you don't stop. The second time, it's a little too clear to be mistaken for anyone else's name as the car comes to a crawl side by side to you.

You turn on your heel harshly, “why in god's name-“ your voice dies the moment you recognize the familiar car model, and its driver. Trent. Oh.

“Get in the car." he dead pans, windows rolled at the way down, door already unlocked for you.

You wrinkle your nose, “I don't want to talk trent."

The very last thing you need is that sorry excuse of a man to send his friend of all people to run after you and do his bidding where he fell short just hours before. This is so embarrassing it only makes you wish his car would explode. And then drive it into the club. While it's on fire.

“I'm not letting you roam around these parts at this time, just get in." he sighs.

You scowl, "he’s low for sending you to change my mind, after this whole fucking night why cant you leave me alone."

He gives you a look, “this has nothing to do with him, this is me. Worried for you. “

“Fuck off." you spit.

“You’re so hard headed, just get in the damn car before someone robs you. Or worse."

"How'd you even know I was here?" you squint at him.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "i still have your location from when i picked you up for his birthday. And I heard about everything from just about everyone. "

"You have nothing else to do on valentines day?" you jab.

He stays silent, hands wringing the steering wheel. You notice he's in what looks like pjs, Liverpool jacket thrown on top. He drove all this way for you?

You swallow your pride for a moment, hiking up your dress while you duck inside the car. Sighing in relief as the pressure is taken off your aching legs. Snapping your seatbelt over you, swinging your purse over your head and gently setting it on your lap, wiping away the tears that blur your vision.

Your rage has turned into a simmer for now. The main goal at the moment is to just get out of these clothes and sleep till you forget what year it is.

Trent is quiet while he lets you get comfortable, rolling up his windows backup and locking the doors. You've never sat passenger in his car before. Hell you haven't seen him in months.

“Did he touch you." he asks, turning the heater on higher.

You put your hand out in front of where the hot air blows oh so nice on your frozen hands,“What?”

“You have a bruise on the back of your arm. Did he do that? “

“No.” you sigh.

he turns to face you, brows furrowed,“i need to know if he did. “

“He didn’t trent, i'm alright.'' your voice softens.

he nods, hands resting on the wheel,“where do you need to go? “

“Just take me to my hotel please."

He nods, handing you his phones to put the directions in. You watch as he takes the car out of park, making a u turn and heading out of whatever bizarre neighborhood you're in, back into the city. And soon the freeway. Birmingham flashes by you and you try to forget the man that sits like a heavy weight in your mind.

You still wonder why Trent would make the trip all the way out just to pick you up. especially if Jude wasn't involved. You're somewhat close you suppose. The kind where you would call him a friend in a group setting, but not much more. You've spent only a couple of times truly alone. You don't know if you're that close.

Trent has always been somewhat of a mystery to you. Few appearances and even fewer words. Jude had told you once he was shy, just taking a minute to warm up to new people. He has a habit of staring off into nothing you noticed at Judes birthday party. Always quick to snap out of it the moment eyes were on him. Oh so different from the way he plays. You've seen him now and again in highlights and clips posted on instagram. He's good, but man is he aggressive. You expect it for a defender but the man gets up in everyones space on the pitch.

A complete 180 from the way he can barely look you in the eye now. What is he thinking?

You don't let your curiosity blind you from being at least a little courteous.

“Thank you, " you mumble, playing with the fabric of your dress, "and sorry for being a bitch.“

“Hey I don’t blame you.” he shrugs.

You hum and leave it at that. You'll put unraveling Trent on the to do list.

Your hotel comes into view and you thank him again for the kindness, promising to make it up to him some day. He waves you off, seeing till you're inside to leave.

Your mind is so blurred you can barely stand anymore, every step only throws you off balance. You need your bed. Asap. Or you will fall over and die.

The hotel's heating is a welcome treat as you beeline for the elevator. The staff give you a strange look but you do NOT. have the time for any of that. Right now all you care about is getting in bed. Can this elevator hurry up? It finally comes and you lean against the metal walls when you step inside, sliding your purse lazily over you.

You all but tear your clothes off the second you make it inside your room, in a rush, wiping your makeup off while you undo your shoes, hobbling around with one foot while you dig for your pajamas. You end the night with a trip to the bathroom. Skipping on your usual night routine and just settling for a quick shower and brush of the teeth.

Hotel covers have never felt better, warmer, safer.

In the quiet of the room and the hum of the ac, you can't but let your thoughts consume you. Can't help but circle back to him. Why?

Why weren't you enough? Why did it have to end in fucking flames on whats supposed to be the most romantic love filled day of the year.

You think back of every moment and piece of you shared with Jude. You remember the first time you kissed you, under the stands at his first madrid home game, clutching onto his jersey like a lifeline. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Gently holding your hand all the way back inside the building. Mumbling confessions and making you smile with every cheesy pick up line.

That jude is gone now, instead replaced by the man who you have to fight for even a second with. But are expected to drop all for. A selfish bitter man.

It doesn't matter anymore. It's over, you can rest now and deal with the inevitable fall out as it comes. You know you're more than enough, but with the way you let yourself be treated it's hard to let yourself believe that.

Never again though. From now, you're swearing off footballers.

—--

You wake up as early as you can manage, getting all your things together and booking a flight out of here as soon as possible. You need to get back to madrid.

Your headache is massive as you shove the last of your things in your suitcase. You can't believe you took days off for this. Nonetheless, you need to get back. You have a team to get back to and plenty of work to get done. Real Madrid's creative department never rests does it.

Your phone has a slew of missed calls, mainly from Jude but you see a few from Trent, rather recent ones. You give him a call back but it all goes to voicemail.

The key card jams while you're locking it for the last time, it takes a hit from your hand to get the scanner working but you make it out in one piece. Smoothing your clothes down and making your way to the lobby. Sitting down for a few minutes while you confirm your flight details and triple check that you haven't forgotten anything. You hear your name and are greeted again by Trent, who's all but spriting to you. It's a little early for him to be here now isn't it.

“Can I help you ?”

“I'm sorry I tried calling and I couldn't answer when you called. Judes outside waiting for you. he-“

So last night really was all just a ploy from Judes end? You try to get up and far far away from him, but he stands in front of you.

“Listen. He told me to come and get you out there so you can talk to him and to not tell you. But obviously, I'm not. i’ll tell him you're not here yeah? Take care.”

Trent doesn't leave you with anything else, leaving in the other direction. You take this as a sign to leave while you can, grabbing one of the many taxis outside to the airport.

—--

Trent gives Jude a scowl, “She's not there Jude, give it up. “

“I can't just lose her. “ Jude sighs, furiously typing on his phone.

Trent rolls his yees, patience wearing thin,“You’re fucked in the head you know that? After all you’ve done to her, you still want her to come running back?”

Silence.

“I care about you Jude I really do. But you left her walking around at 3 am with a dead phone in the middle of alleyways dude. That's not okay. “

—--

The airport has never felt lonelier, but you swallow the lump in your throat, boarding your flight home and trying to forget the man that you've come to associate it with. Madrid will be a hard place to move on in, when its walls shine with its star boy. Its halls all but cheering his name. Every corner you're bound to be reminded of him. You can do it, one way or another you won't let yourself be miserable.

257 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Welcome to Arc 3 of Bring Me Home! 🎉🎉🎉

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fanon-typical violence. This is my dissection fic, but I don't think I crossed the line into graphic. Let me know if you disagree.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

-----

Danny waved goodbye to Sam and Tucker as he made his way home from school. They had a long weekend and he planned to fall into bed and take a long nap. And then maybe grab some midnight tacos as Phantom for dinner.

He hummed as he thought about how awesome those tacos would taste when reached his home. Still lost in his daydreams, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Only for electric pain to shoot up his arm. Danny screamed, paralyzed to the spot. He tried to pull his hand back, but something held him in place. He fell to his knees, arm still held out and radiating pain through the rest of his body.

“What? Danny!”

“M-mom?” he forced out between cries. “Hurts!”

He could feel his transformation tugging on his core and he tried to force it back.

“Jack! Quick, it’s Danny!”

“Please,” begged Danny. Even kneeling was getting to be too much. Blackness was threatening the edges of his vision so he closed his eyes. He had to keep from transforming. He had to.

He didn’t even have the breath to scream anymore.

He heard his dad’s voice. There was a flash of light. And then nothing.

---

The first thing Danny was aware of was that everything hurt. His muscles were aching and his right arm was practically numb. The next thing he noticed was that he way lying on something hard. He tried to roll over, only to realize he was strapped down. And not just at his wrists and ankles, but also at his waist and neck.

His eyes flew open in shock and he yelled in panic. Had Vlad gotten him?

“It’s awake, Mads!”

Orange filled his vision as his dad leaned over him.

“D-dad?” asked Danny. He felt his core humming in his chest. His core, not his heart. He twisted his head just enough to see a black jumpsuit.

He was Phantom. His parents knew.

His dad’s face contorted with anger, an expression he’d never once seen there before. “Don’t you dare call me that, impostor! What have you done with my son?”

“Dad, it’s me. I swear. I—I can explain.” He tugged on his restraints, trying to phase through them. Only to scream as the anti-ghost shielding shocked him.

His mom’s steps echoed from out of sight. “You aren’t escaping us that easily, ghost,” she spat the last word. “How long have you been possessing Danny?” She finally came into view, goggles blocking her eyes and her mouth hard.

“I’m not possessing him, I am Danny!”

She sneered. “Jack, now.”

“Release our son!” shouted his father. Then he pulled out a spray can and held down the nozzle.

Danny saw the mist approach him and scrunched his eyes closed as he turned his head to avoid the spray. But of course it was impossible. He whimpered as it settled on him, tiny pinpricks of burning. As he lay there, the feeling grew more and more intense until he couldn’t help but cry out.

And that’s when he breathed it in.

It was all agony, inside and out. The mist settled in his lungs, pure fire trying to melt core.

With a flash of light, he was Danny Fenton again. His heart beat in his chest and his lungs screamed for oxygen. The pain didn’t go away, but it lessened. Danny gasped in deep breaths, his limbs shaking in their restraints as he tried to push through the pain.

“Did it work?” asked his dad.

Fingers brushed his hair off his forehead. “Sweetie? Are you back with us?”

Danny opened his eyes, tears gathering and looked up at the face of his mother.

Her expression turned from hope to hatred so fast he thought he was dreaming. “Green eyes, Jack. The ghost is just trying to trick us.”

“The ghost repellent has never failed before. How are you surviving, ghost?”

Danny screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see his parents’ faces. “It’s me, I promise. It’s me. I’m alive. I’m alive.”

“Stop lying!” screamed his mom.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side, followed by a wave of agony. He felt like he was being electrocuted again. In defense, he transformed back into Phantom—his ghost form was so much more durable.

But the pain only got worse. He screamed. His wail was crawling its way up his throat, only to fizzle out into a wave of electricity when it hit the anti-ghost restraint strapped around his neck.

“Loud, isn’t it?” asked his father.

“Let’s shut it up, Jack,” said his mother.

“No, no please. It’s me, Danny!”

They ignored him, though. The pain stopped just long enough for him to gasp in a few breaths. Then piece of metal was being fixed under his jaw and over his mouth. His head was yanked up so it could be strapped in the back. Danny tried to yell into the muzzle, but it muffled all sound.

After that, he lost track of what they did. So many inventions were taken out, used, and discarded. Anything to destroy the ghost part of him or force him out of his living body.

He wished he could obey. That he could just be their son again and not Phantom. But he’d learned many times over the last three years that it was impossible. He was both Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom and spitting himself apart would only ever lead to destruction.

He didn’t know how many times he was forced into a transformation as his body tried to choose the form more resistant to the torture. It didn’t seem to matter, though, if he was Fenton or Phantom. His parents would check his eyes or use the ghost tracker and then the next wave of pain would wash over him.

Eventually, however, even his parents ran out of inventions to use.

“This isn’t working, Jackie.”

“What if we can’t force it out, Mads? What next?”

“We’ll cut it out. You know we’ve long hypothesized about the existence of a ghost heart. What better way to test our hypothesis than cutting the parasite out of our own son?”

Danny’s eyes flew open and he tugged with aching muscles, twisting as much as he was able. His muffled protests were ignored just as much as his words had been.

“Where do you think it’s hiding its heart?” asked his dad.

“We’ll use the Fenton Scanner to find the areas of densest ectoplasm concentration and search each of them.”

His mom stalked out of sight and Danny could hear her rummaging through various bins and cabinets looking for the scanner.

His dad, however, stared down at him, eyes hidden behind his goggles and his mouth in an uncharacteristic frown. “If you’re still in there, Danno, we’re gonna get rid of it. We’ll free you, son.”

Danny wanted to tell him he wasn’t trapped, to say again that he was himself, whatever he looked like. But all he could do was whimper and blink away the tears.

Then mom was back, a small scanner in her hand. She pointed it at Danny and he tensed, expecting more pain.

But he felt nothing. Soon enough, the device beeped and she waved over his dad.

“Look at this, sweetie. It’s working better than I expected. Only two main areas of ectoplasm concentration: his brain and his chest.”

“That’s awfully close to his heart, Mads. I don’t know if we can remove it without hurting Danny.”

“If we don’t remove it, he’ll be dead anyway!” Her last word caught on a sob.

Danny was crying in earnest now, too. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. How long would it take anyone to even notice? Jazz was away at college, Tucker had plans with his parents all night, Sam was trying to get along with her parents to get out of a rich-person function later in the month, and he and Tim didn’t have a check-in until Sunday.

Could he survive his parents for two whole days until then?

He forced his eyes open to see his parents hugging. All he wanted was to be between them, caught up in their embrace. But instead he was strapped down to a hard, cold table.

They separated.

“Hold him still, Jack,” said his mom.

So Danny did the opposite. He ignored the ache of his muscles, the way they protested, to twist and yank and move as much as he could.

But his father’s hands were big and he was strong and Danny was tired. When his dad spread his hands over his shoulders and pressed, Danny couldn’t fight back. Above him stood his mom, holding a scalpel that glowed green.

Danny closed his eyes tightly when he saw her lower the blade. He couldn’t watch this. Then agony as it sliced through his skin.

Danny screamed into the muzzle. The pain was so intense that he could focus on nothing else. He didn’t know if his parents were talking to each other. He didn’t know what they were finding inside of him.

Instinct forced him to hide his core, to push it smaller and disguise it. But he knew that nothing would stop his parents forever.

He had no way to judge the passage of time. It felt like an eternity; it felt like a second.

Then the hands on him ripped away suddenly and new shouts, new voices, rang out in the lab.

Danny blinked his eyes open to see Sam and Tucker above him. Sam was paler than he’d ever seen her and Tucker didn’t look any better. He tried to talk to them, but the muzzle still covered his face.

Sam turned her head away and shouted, “Kon!”

A moment later, Superboy was landing next to her, his face grim. Then Danny’s restraints, muzzle included, fell to pieces. He was free.

He pushed himself up, needing to see, only to cry in pain and fall back down when the cuts on his chest protested the movement.

Sam and Tucker shouted at him, told him to stay still. Their words were fuzzy and hard to focus on. Everything was hard to focus on. But in the brief moment of time he’d been able to see more than the ceiling above him, he saw Tim in full Red Robin get up using his staff to keep his parents away.

Tim was here. And the world went black.

-----

I no longer tag, but if you want notifications when I update, check out the Subscription Post.

After about 40k of writing, we're finally back to the scene that started it all! Only now with 4x the number of Young Justice on hand. About three years have passed between Arc 2 and Arc 3, so they've all gotten quite close. There's group chats. So many group chats. Danny's met more members of the Young Justice (and I may write a few of those meetings in the future which is 80% why I decided to make this a series rather than a single work on AO3).

But on the rescue team we've only got Red Robin, Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.

I'm about a third of the way through with major edits for Arc 2. So I'll probably start cross posting to AO3 quite soon! Main changes are in what Tim tells Bruce about where he is and what he's up to.

#dpxdc #bring me home #now with arc 3!!!#Hope you all are as excited as I am!#dissection fic #vivisection fic #gore #not super graphic #by dp standards at least #but tagging just in case #danny is not having a good time #but his friends weren't gonna let him suffer for too long

174 notes · View notes

itjazzbicch · 4 months

Text

About Time

Pairing: Hwoarang x Reader

Summary: Training together as they shared the same master, Hwoarang struggles to accept that he lost to the reader in the semi-finals, facing his rival Jin Kazama in the finals, and when the final match takes an unexpected turn, Hwoarang's true feelings for his close friend, the reader, rises to the surface...

Warnings: Slight swearing, an injury (but that's about it!)

Word Count: 1.6k

"What bull!"

Hwoarang only made me laugh as I followed him into the hall while the rest of the semi-finals were ongoing. We had both trained together with our master, Baek Doo San and when the King of The Iron Fist Tournament was announced, we both wanted to enter. Although Hwoarang's motivation was different than mine, I still gave it my all, and in the semi-finals, I managed to beat him in the toughest fight I've been in yet.

"Don't act so surprised!" I poked at him with a confident smile, "We've trained together for how long? You should know that I'm no pushover."

"I know," He groaned, huffing out in frustration and looking out to see that Jin Kazama had just won and would be seeing me in the finals.

That didn't help with his attitude; he gritted his teeth and was more frustrated that he couldn't get his hands on Jin now.

I think that it did somewhat help him accept his loss to me. How he gazed into my eyes showed that he respected me and my skill. There was still some attitude in his tone, but he put up his fist towards me, murmuring:

"Just beat up that punk, Jin, for me."

"Say less," I chuckled, fist-bumping him and sharing a smile, the determination to win in my gaze.

Heading back down to the stage, I had to focus. I had never faced Jin like Hwoarang, and I knew he was nothing to scoff at. Jin was the leader of Mishima Zaibatsu before and has won tournaments before.

Getting in stance as we faced off, I saw Hwoarang watching, how his eyes told me that he believed in me, which made my desire to win even stronger. I didn't want to let him down and get even closer to winning this whole tournament.

Just as I expected, Jin was making me work for this, but I ensured that every time I hit him, a lot of fire was packed into it.

At the climax of our fight, we were both sweating and panting, trying to end this. I sent out a kick that he blocked, but I could flip and hit him with my other foot, which sent him back. Running to close in our distance, I went to hit him with my signature kick that no one ever took without getting knocked out.

Mid-air, everything was in slow motion, and his eyes... They were red suddenly, these weird markings on his forehead. I could hear the growl he let out before he hit me with a punch that was so fast to see, feeling the unbelievable impact in my stomach.

It felt like I got struck by lightning or something, spitting out a loud groan as it sent me flying clear into the fencing of the ring, curling up into a ball. I was scared that my ribs may have been broken.

"I-I-" I was crying, not from the pain, but the fact that I had to say these words, holding up my hand, "I give."

"Your winner! Jin Kazama!"

The crowd was thrilled to see what a good fight that was, but something was up with Jin. His eyes were brown again, and when he looked at me, it seemed that he didn't realize what he had done, eyes filling with shock and concern as he saw me in this defeated and wounded state.

"Y/N..." He gasped, coming over to help me, "I'm-"

Reaching his hand toward me, there was this huge pop from the crowd, feeling a gust of wind and an angry yell:

"Get your damn hands away from Y/N!"

My pupils expanded at the sight of Hwoarang zipping in front of me, kicking Jin's hand away, then kicking the shit out of his chest that sent him reeling.

I knew that Hwoarang had been itching to get his hands on him, but this was different. The crowd was eating this up, and I noticed security coming in, trying to stand by, gripping and clinging to the fence.

"C'mon Jin! I'm not finished with you!"

Hwoarang was bouncing quickly in his stance, watching Jin like a tiger ready to strike as he was climbing off his knees, but something in me wouldn't let me sit and watch this, groaning out:

"Hwoarang! Stop it-"

That weird blow Jin hit me with really did a number on me, Hwoarang freezing and coming back to me as I fell to the mat again.

"I have you," He said quietly, his voice filled with anger, but he stuck to his word, scooping me into his arms.

It was already enough with how I felt so down from losing, now seeing Hwoarang like this. I was so much more emotional, hated how I looked so weak while curled up in his arms, both our eyes darting over to Jin, who was holding his chest from Hwoarang's kick, holding out his hand toward me:

"I never intended to harm you, Y/N..."

Staring intensely into his eyes, I felt he was telling the truth but hiding something about himself. When he punched me, it was like he transformed into something with this strange power that he didn't have control of. None of his previous strikes during our fight had such malice, making me question what happened to him during that last strike.

"Shut the hell up," Hwoarang spat, staring a hole through him and turning away with me, following the security line out and to the trainer's room.

Luckily, none of my ribs were broken, as I feared, but I needed to be wrapped up and some cold therapy for the pain. My head was hung low, confused and disappointed in myself, but my head perked up a little as Hwoarang stood before me, clearly still pissed and crossing his arms:

"So, what happened out there? I thought you had him."

"I thought so too," I sighed, staring at the floor as I told him what happened, "But while I was going to hit him with my kick, his eyes... They changed to red, and when he punched me, it was so strong and weird... I don't know how to describe it."

"His eyes turned red?" This perplexed him, but he let out a deep, angry sigh as he seemed to remember something, whispering under his breath, "That's right. He's got some strange power."

"What do you mean by that?" It was now clear to me that there was something about Jin that I didn't know, and the thought of it didn't cross Hwoarang's mind because he was so worked up about not making it to the finals.

There was this strange and suspenseful moment of silence, staring into each other's eyes as he mentally tried to find the words to explain it to me.

I didn't even care at that moment, my head falling again in disappointment, whispering to him:

"I'm sorry that I lost..."

"Don't even worry about it," He said quickly, squatting to look me in the eyes, smiling softly at me, "Seriously. You still gave him one hell of a fight."

"Thanks..." It was nearly impossible not to smile back, even if it was just a little, going back to the typical ways of our dynamic and poking at him a little, "I never seen you so pissed off before, just for me... Thanks for being there for me."

"Y-Yeah..." He stuttered a little, his cheeks turning pink as he stood back up and looked away, "It's no problem."

I had to laugh at how adorable he looked, holding my ribs but giggling to keep my pain down as he turned from pink to red, snapping at me playfully:

"Who are you laughing at, huh?!"

"I'm sorry," I wheezed softly, wincing at my ribs and seizing up.

"Stop laughing before you hurt yourself even more," He scolded, holding me upright by the shoulder, squeezing and getting some of the tension in my body to go away.

"That Jin sure is strong," I panted quietly, the pain making me say, "I should've let you kick his ass."

"Yeah, you should have," His eyes rolled but fixed on me, growing with more anger towards Jin as he noticed how hard I closed my eyes, fighting off some tears. Sitting me up in a position where my ribs wouldn't hurt as much, hugging me softly and whispering, "You can let it out if you need to, okay?"

As much as we toyed and messed with each other, knowing how deeply he cared for me made my emotions spike up again; gently hugging him back, again trying to cope with all the feelings by joking around again, whispering to him:

"Thanks, you big softy."

"Cut me a break," He huffed, chuckling himself and making me freeze when his head laid on mine, whispering back, "You should know by now that you're special to me."

My heart started pounding, something deep in my heart making me tilt my head, gazing up at him:

"Hey, Hwoarang..."

"Yeah?"

I couldn't contain how I felt about him, kissing him when his gaze met mine. His kiss back was so soft and sweet, holding his cheek as it grew deeper, his arms still gentle as they closed around me more.

Our lips broke away with a quiet gasp, but we shared a smile, telling him:

"You're special to me, too."

"Well, yeah, it's me." He was always so cocky, making me roll my eyes playfully, but I was the one who was all flustered when he kissed me when I wasn't looking, winking at me and chuckling as I looked at him with butterflies multiplying in my stomach, "About time this happened..."

2024 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

#tekken #tekken x reader #tekken x y/n #tekken imagine #tekken fluff #tekken fic #tekken oneshot #hwoarang #hwoarang x reader #hwoarang x y/n #hwoarang imagine #hwoarang fic #hwoarang fluff #hwoarang oneshot #tekken 8 #read and enjoy

150 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 5 days

Text

My Kingdom of Fish poll fiction! Continued from here.

After a small amount of dithering, Danny took the cameras. He was here to show his parents the library, and he couldn't do that if they couldn't see it. The ambient array could collect data here as well as anywhere else. The Fenton Finder's 23rd iteration was as buggy as the first. He'd actually done a small amount of sabotage to the ‘self-defense system’ to make it safe to carry around, so… Yeah.

The only things he felt at all bad about leaving were the medical monitors and the environmental safety detectors. Both of those had helped him in the past. The Lost Library was supposed to be safe, though. It wasn't a truce zone or anything, but people didn't go there to fight, and the librarians were supposed to take care of any environmental dangers that popped up (mostly because things that could endanger ghosts could certainly endanger books). The Library of Tongues did that, anyway.

He did have to rearrange and remove some of the cameras, especially the redundant ones and the ones that weren't taking his amplified aura well, so that they fit on his much-reduced frame, but they were made to be serviceable, and soon he was ready.

The coat room, as it turned out, was right behind the reception desk.

“There are doors that aren't visible or that won't open for you unless you're a member or have a badge,” the librarian explained as she put the equipment on a shelf. “Another reason not to lose yours.”

“Where's the way in?” asked Danny.

“This way.”

The librarian led him back around, then to the side of the desk. Here, again, the wall had folded back into a set of doors, this one more ornate.

“The copyist's room attendants will meet you down the hallway,” said the librarian, sitting back down at her desk.

Danny nodded. “Thank you.”

The hallway forked right sharply. A ghost woman with bronze skin and dark hair was waiting there, not far from the corner. There was a spiral on the center of her forehead in what looked like gold wire under her skin. The outside end of it disappeared under her hairline.

“Oh my,” she said, hiding her mouth behind a pair of bell-like sleeves, “you’re so cute. Iphigenia didn’t tell me you were cute.”

Danny made a face.

“Ah! Precious! How old are you?”

“I was fourteen when I died,” said Danny, flatly. “I don’t know why places like this make me tiny, but I’m not.”

“You must be young at heart.”

Danny squinted at her.

“Mm? Are you looking at this?” she asked, pointing at her spiral. Danny shrugged, then nodded. He hadn’t been, not really, but in the interest of changing the subject… “It’s what members of the library have instead of another alteration. It’s like the fires you get at the Library of Tongues.” The spiral moved, retreating, unwinding, vanishing under her hair and then spiraling out onto the palm she offered up to Danny. “It’s called the Lìshǐ Yánxù De Jīn Xiàn, although ghosts from western cultures call it Ariadne’s String. No sense of pride for their work, I swear.” She shook her head. “So, if you get lost, or need help finding something, find someone with one of these, okay? We have a pretty big children's collection, believe it or not.”

“I'm not really a child.”

“Oh! So mature!” She poked his cheek, then stood up and opened the door behind her. “Let’s get you situated.”

The copyist’s room was large and brightly lit, lined with beehive-like cubbies that served as shelving for scrolls. There were several work tables spread throughout the room, and a mid-sized manual printing press. There were two other ghosts in the room. One, a stressed-looking larger man with a curly, box-cut beard, and the other a severely thin, angular man with a long, looping tail.

Both wore guest badges, and both had features that did not seem to match the rest of their appearances. The severe-looking man had large, fluffy, soft-looking wings with feathers that twitched and shifted near constantly. He had a quill badge clipped to the belt of his tunic. The other, larger man had moth antennae and wings, but also enormous, ribbed bat ears. He had not one but two badges attached to his robe-like wrap, the candle and the gong.

“Now,” said the attendant, “I know you said that you wanted to do Ancient Greek to English, and when people say Ancient Greek, they mean Ancient Greek from Life, not old Zone dialects, but the Mausoleum of Macaria tipped into the Acheron a few weeks ago, and were swamped with Elysian, Asphodelian, and Tartarian Greek. Especially Tartarian Greek. Would you mind doing something from one of those? It would be much shorter than what we'd give you in regular Ancient Greek, only a few pages.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“It would really help if you knew any of them,” she added.

#danny phantom #kingdom of fish #poll fic #choose your own adventure #dannymay #dannymay 2024

87 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 11 days

Text

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 5

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28 @kurowvie @vaugarkel

A/N: omg omg things are starting to roll and I'm so down for all of it. What do you think so far of Gally and Mai?

Also available on Wattpad.

PREVIOUS | NEXT >>>

"The shuck you lookin' at?"

"I'm not looking at anything," says Mai as she plops another spoonful of mashed potatoes in Gally's plate, all while keeping a watchful eye on Frypan. The latter is currently grilling sausages and whistling to himself. She pushes the already-filled plate towards Gally and hisses, "just take it."

"You like him," Gally says it like a statement, not even a question. The idea has Mai's ears burn red, "no I don't. Now stop talking to me so I can go back to work."

A few days have passed since the incident and apart from a few weird looks from Jeff and Clint, Mai has escaped their tirade of questions for this month. For now, she's safe and back out of the radar.

Safe from everyone, except for Gally, who seems to have other ideas.

Like right now currently, when he's adamant that Mai has a crush on Minho. It doesn't help that Minho is cute and does make her blush from time to time. But hey, who can blame her? The Runner is a hugger and enjoys physical touch. He does it with everyone, so it's not like she can just ask him to back off without reason. That'll make him even more suspicious.

Gally doesn't think so, "what d'you like about him anyway? He's an asshole and he's full of himself."

"You are the asshole, Gally," Mai flicks her fork at him with a scowl, "now get lost."

She's not one to daydream of such things but she swears that something has changed between them within the past week. Gally somehow feels less aggressive. Oh, don't get her wrong, he still bullies her to death when no one's looking, but Mai likes to think that his actions speak louder than words.

And it feels as though he doesn't really mind having her around him.

But being friends with Gally also means to be bullied by others because of it. The first time it happened, she'd been busy unloading some meat from her cart when one of the Gladers pushed her over when she wasn't looking. She fell to the ground, eyes narrowed into slits as the Gladers around her laughed, but decidedly ignored them in favour of keeping the peace.

That doesn't stop them from trying to get something out of her.

It happens on an evening where all Keepers had been called to a meeting. Mai had been busy tasked with collecting some firewood for the Kitchens as Frypan needed more for the fires, and had been so engrossed in the task that she is surprised to find that night had fallen before she'd known it.

It's dark out now and with no light to guide her, she grips the sack of branches close to her chest as she treads carefully, squinting to follow the light of the Homestead.

"Oh look what we have here."

She freezes, turns over her shoulder slowly until she comes face to face with one of the Gladers that's been annoying her ever since she can remember; Henry.

He's one of the Builders, just as buff as Gally but short and squat, making him look rounder than he appears. His face makes Mai want to run for it and as he grins, she swears she feels her feet tremble. The desire to run prickles the back of her neck.

"Give it a rest Henry," Mai says flatly. It's been a while and she's not in the mood for this games.

"You know, we're in a Glade full of boys." He advances towards her and from the trees come out more Gladers, ones that she's unfamiliar with. Her stomach clenches with apprehension and she takes a shaky step back, "so we have needs, and sometimes, we need someone to fullfill those needs."

"That's pathetic," she snaps. Fear is pounding at her heart, causing a permanent ringing to thrum through her ears.

"Is it?" His grin widens, "let's find out."

Mai doesn't wait. She turns to break into a run—

But arms grab at her before she can, throwing her to the ground as a cry leaves her lips. Someone swivels her around roughly before she's forced to kneel at the knees.

"Stop it!" She yells out, tears starting to gather in her eyes at the thought that maybe there's no way out of this. Shit. And it's dark, nobody wanders to the forest in the dark.

The other gladers laugh like she's burst out a joke, "he's cute. I like him." One of them says.

"Let's see if he's got more spike than this," and to her horror, Henry starts to unzip his pants right before her eyes.

Mai's head jerks away, "stop it! Help!" She tries to shout as loud as her lungs would go, to no avail. The gladers swarm around her like a pack of Hyenas and she can't help but look at Henry's girth. It's red and throbbing and makes her want to throw up.

No. She begs silently, tears streaming down her face as she tries to push and shove and bite and kick-- anything, anything--

A hand clamps down on her skull, stopping her from moving altogether.

"Let's see what you're made of Greenie," Henry cackles as he advances forward, holding his girth in his hand. He grabs hold of her hair and pulls, roughly, until she's face to face with it. Her eyes squeeze shut as she hears him laugh out like a maniac. It sends chills down her spine, even more so when he squeezed her head--

"Everything all right here?"

The hand freezes. As does everyone.

Mai's throat bobs. A sob breaks out of it.

Through tear-rimmed eyes, she can barely make out two figures at the far end of the forest.

But she feels like she knows this voice. It's one that she hears everyday.

"Gally," Henry is quick to let go, zipping up his pants in the process though still keeping his hold on her hair, "what are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that," a new voice. Newt's, speaks up as the slim figure advances forward. There's a dangerous tone to it, the kind that's like a warning bell and the other Gladers seem to sense it too, moving back slowly and away from Henry, letting go of her arms in the process.

"Just having a little fun here with the Greenie," he tries to sound confident, but it's clear he fears his Keeper. But his mistake is asking, "what do you say? Wanna—"

His words barely make it out of his mouth before a fist swings out in his direction.

Henry goes down with a cry. A series of footsteps thump along the ground, and there stands Gally, breathless and looking absolutely terrifying. Furious.

"You disgusting shank," he grabs Henry's collar, jerks him up before delivering another blow. And another, and another—

"Gally!" Newt shouts. The said Builder stops in mid-action, looking down at Henry's bloodied face with his jaw still clenched. Newt continues, "that's enough, man. Let him go."

Gally's still glaring, hold tightening even further.

"Gally," Newt repeats more firmly and this time the Builder lets him go, Henry falling to the ground in a heap, "I'll bring them back to Homestead. Let Alby deal with them."

Newt then jerks his head towards the lights, "come on then. Right now."

The gladers have no other choice but to obey the second-in-command with their eyes cast down and away from Gally's furious glare. Not that he notices. He's looking down at Henry, shoving him to the ground with one last threatening curse as the latter yelps and runs as far away as he possibly can.

It is then that Mai's knees give out and she crumples up like a broken doll, chest tight and breaths coming out in small gasps.

Gally turns to her and in his voice she hears a tinge of softness, "hey Greenie."

He closes the distance between them before leaning down so that they're face to face, "are you alright?"

The girl opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it once more, to realize that nothing can come out. Her limbs are frozen in place, her heart still racing like a horse against her chest. She can feel the tear stains on her cheeks, carving paths down her skin and maybe it's just the shock of it all that causes a sob to echo out of her throat.

She starts crying, and Gally's hand lands on her shoulder.

"Hey hey, it's fine. They're gone," his gentleness surprises her, for he's never been like this. He's not usually, not in their every day life. But sitting here with her as she cries her heart out makes her chest warm despite the earlier events, like a beacon of security, a barrier of protection against the world. That's how Gally feels to her.

Before she knows it, she's thrown herself at him, not caring that he still believes she's a guy. Grabbing a hold of his shirt with both hands, the girl doesn't hesitate to bury her face in his chest as she feels the Builder freeze.

It's only for a moment though, a tiny fraction of a second, before his arms go around her — they're hesitant, unsure — and settle on her back.

He gives her a few awkward pats. She can feel the tension along his neck.

"Right greenie. No need to cry," he says gruffly against her hair, but not pulling away when she nuzzles even closer still. His warmth and scent are addictive, they feel like home in a foreign place. Mai realizes she kind of likes it, "these shanks aren't gonna touch you again, not after Alby's punishment."

But Mai is in her own world, clinging to Gally's comfort like it's the only thing holding her in place, the only stability she has as the emotions tremble through her, courses through her chest and knots in her stomach. It's like a dam finally breaking open and so Gally realizes he has no other choice but to be here for a while, and so decides to pat her on the back, trying not to take note of how slim the Greenie is under his fingertips, how tiny and fragile, almost—

No. No. No. You are not going there.

Mai finally calms down after what seems to be like an eternity, her sobs dying out into sniffles. The Builder's hand has moved up to her head since, smoothing down over her short hair almost absentmindedly. He drops it like he's burnt himself upon realization, pulling a grimace as he does so.

She whispers out his name so softly he barely hears it. He looks down at her with a soft frown, one that's swimming with genuine concern, only to hear the girl say, "thank you for saving me."

He's about to reply when Mai interrupts him by pressing a kiss.

Right onto his cheek.

----

Mai realizes a bit too late what she's doing.

She jerks away at the same time that Gally's mouth drops open. The girl scrambles back in surprise, eyes wide as she holds up her hands in a defensive stance.

"I—I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me I—" her squeak dies out as she watches the said young man rub at his cheek, where her lips had been a few seconds prior. He's not looking at her, glaring down at the ground and a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

"Gally I—"

"Forget it."

He's already walking away so fast that Mai has to scramble to catch up to him. Her heart is galloping like a wild horse against her chest, but not for the same reason this time. She feels the permanent blush taking over her face as she tries to stutter through a bunch of excuses, "I'm so sorry Gally, I—It won't happen again it's just— you know, I was scared in the moment and I—"

"I said forget it Greenie," he snaps as he keeps walking.

Mai's shoulders slump. Great, she thinks to herself, way to get him disgusted with me.

The rest of the walk back to Homestead is quiet and Mai decides it's better not to interrupt the peace until they reach the Council room. The gladers responsible are already inside, Henry included. Mai can't help but wince and hide behind Gally's broad back when she feels his dirty eyes on her frame.

Alby is in the middle of giving them their punishment, "—three days in the Slammer, no food, and when you get back from there, you're all gonna be Slicers until you apologize to Mai. Sincerely." He adds coldly, "consider this a merciful punishment. I could've have you banished if I wanted."

The Gladers murmur out their thanks. Not Henry, whose beady eyes are still locked on Mai's frame.

"Mai's lying to us," he suddenly calls out. The room falls silent as all eyes drag to Henry.

Mai freezes on the spot. Oh no. Has she not been discreet enough? Is this what she thinks it is?

Will she be going into the Slammer too?

"What do you mean?" Asks Alby.

Newt is also frowning at the said glader, eyebrows kissing at the center as his gaze trails over to Mai.

"This—" Henry jabs a shaky finger into Mai's direction, "This is a girl! She's been lying to us this whole time!"

"What in the bloody world are you talking about?" Newt asks but it's too late. Everyone has already spun around to look at Mai and each passing second that goes by causes Mai's reality to shatter because the truth is coming out, and the truth— no matter how hard she tries to hide — is real.

Her eyes move from the disbelief in Newt's, to the confusion in Alby's, before finally landing on Gally's blue gaze. His are a stormy aquamarine, something like realization causing the color in his eyes to shift and widen.

She can't deal with it. Not with them all looking at her like she's a sick secret.

So she does what she knows best.

She runs.

———

The Council room erupts into chaos as soon as Mai sprints away like her life depends on it.

Gally's first, already striding to the door with purpose only to be stopped by a pair of arms.

"Wait," Alby holds onto him with his jaw clenched and tight, "Gally, stop."

"I—" but Gally's thoughts are scattered and nonsensical, the memories of the Greenie, all the shower nights and the suspicious behavior, that one time Mai claimed he had a stomach ache because he was hungover... everything is starting to make sense and he has no idea how to deal with it.

"Gally," Alby's voice brings him back and the Builder allows himself to be pushed into a vacant bench. His fists tighten at his sides as he glares into the ground, one hand unconsciously going up to rub at his face in growing exasperation.

Shit. He's already feeling a headache coming in.

Henry, on the other hand, seems to be delighted at the unfolding of events, "see?! i told you she was a girl! And now she's shuckin' scared for her life because she lied to all of us—"

"Shut up Henry," Newt interrupts, his voice shaking with so much restrained anger that it takes everyone by surprise, "you're still an asshole for what you did to her. So slim it or I'm throwing you headfirst into the maze."

That, coming from Newt, instantly causes the said boy to close his mouth. Alby advances towards him slowly, a certain kind of darkness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He feels like a predator ready to pounce on his prey and all too soon Henry starts squirming.

"What you said about Mai," Alby starts off slow, though the venom in his voice is unmistakable, "that's a very serious accusation, shank. Do you even know what you're saying?"

"I saw her!I swear I did and--"

"So you spied on her?" Gally's rage increased tenfold. He wants nothing more than to wring his petty neck. He feels Newt's hand on his shoulder, a reminder to stay composed, and tries to relax.

It doesn't work.

"Well--I--I mean I had to, to prove my point--" Henry's eyes dart back and forth between the Glade Leader and the Builder that looks like he's going to kill him and place his head on a pike, "listen, the point is, she's not who she says she is. She's a shuckin' liar, a traitor! She's the one that should be thrown into the Maze because she broke the rules!"

"We'll be the judge of that," Alby cuts him off sternly. He turns to Newt, "get these slintheads into the Slammer. And him--" he points at Henry, "he doesn't get out of there until we know what we're gonna do with him."

"What?!" Henry tries to flail away from the other Gladers circling around him to grab at his arms, "I've protected the Glade from this chick. We don't even know what she can do! If she's the only girl maybe she's hiding something--"

But Gally's had enough. His hand jerks out, grabbing a fistful of Henry's shirt before wrenching him close so that they're face to face with each other. And when he speaks, his voice is merely above a growl.

"Listen here, you slinthead," Henry can't help but let out a whimper when Gally tugs him even closer, teeth baring dangerously and eyes so narrow and cold they look merciless, "maybe she did have her reasons for lying to us. And even if she did, that doesn't give you the right to spy on her, or to take advantage of her like that," Gally snarls, "do you understand me?"

"Y--Yes," Henry stutters before a few other Gladers pull him away from the Builder's trembling, raging gaze that speaks volumes.

It is only when Alby's hand drops onto his shoulder that Gally realizes he's gone back into his thoughts without realizing that the Council room is now void of people.

"I think you should go and find Mai," Alby says gently, totally unlike how he'd been a few minutes earlier, "we can't seem to find him -- her."

Truth to be told, Gally wouldn't blame Mai for trying to get away from all this shit show when she's had enough to deal with in one evening. But it's still night and Gally's starting to worry about whether the guy -- girl -- will freeze to death. The Glade is known for being relentlessly cold at night time and if he remembered correctly, Mai had been wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt.

He searches everywhere. The showers, under the kitchen tables, amidst the hammocks. He even goes out of his way to light a torch as he ploughs through the forest with Newt and a sleepy Minho who'd been woken up for the occasion, to no avail. It seems that Mai has just disappeared into thin air and despite the fact that Gally tries to brush it off, he can't quite help the way his stomach knots itself into two at the thought of Mai being all alone in the dark.

That is, until he decides to prowl through the trees.

He finds her then, cooped up amidst a few branches a few feet above ground, high enough that no one would've normally noticed her presence. He catches sight of her tensing as he approaches, the black outline of her figure moving back slowly as if fearing the worst. So he calls out, just in case:

"Hey Greenie," he pauses, waiting. The figure stays immobile, "it's just me."

Nothing. Silence that tears through the open space with the only interruption being the whistle of trees and the groaning of metal from the maze in the distance. It feels like forever and Gally has half a mind to climb up there himself when she finally speaks.

"I'm sorry."

He squints up at her, "don't be stupid. Just get down."

"I've lied. Henry's right," she blurts out, "I am a girl, I just didn't know how to tell you all without you freaking out about it."

"So what?" Gally responds, "Now we know. Big deal. Now get down so we can go back to Homestead to get some sleep."

He inclines his lamp towards hers so that he catches a glimpse of her face, and sure enough, the fear etched into her features is one that is reminiscent of a doe caught in broad daylight, causing something in the pits of Gally's stomach to soften.

She's so fragile. How in the world had he not noticed it then?

No. He had noticed.

He just hadn't wanted it to be true.

"Come on Greenie," Gally murmurs out, extending a hand in the process, "are you gonna keep making me wait?"

"I never asked you to wait for me, or to look for me, for that matter," She shoots back, "you can go back to sleep there and I'll stay here."

"Greenie."

"Gally."

He lets out a puff of air, "don't make me come and get you myself."

A ghost of a goosebump shivers up her spine at his words before Mai finally lets out a sigh of her own, "alright fine. On one condition."

"What?"

"I--" she bites onto her lower lip, chews it for a few seconds before looking back at him shyly. When she speaks next, her voice has dropped to a soft murmur, "can I stay with you? I--I don't feel safe. Not tonight."

Gally's heart almost explodes. Here she is, looking like a pretty thing stranded up in those trees with those big brown eyes looking down with glistening tears, and she's asking if she can stay with him for the night. He wonders whether people die from heart attacks as a result of personal interactions because he swears he can feel his heart almost jumping out of his chest. His skin feels warm to the touch and he wouldn't be surprised if someone were to point out that he's blushing.

Nevertheless, he keeps his voice steady and tender when he answers, "yeah alright."

64 notes · View notes

soursvgar · 1 year

Text

How would you meet them if they were human? ♡

A/N: this idea was laying in my drafts for awhile, i haven't been around much lately so i don't know if it's been done before, but i sort of combined my ideas of what job would they have as humans and how would mc meet them if they were humans, i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Demon brothers x gender neutral reader ; fluff

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Lucifer ━ ෆ

Terribly confused, you wander through the seemingly unending hallways of your new institution. You could swear you've walked through those same corridors for the third time in the past hour, merely searching for your next class - whoever handed you those dated maps has got to find a more suitable job because you are officially lost. Contemplating to just cut class altogether and give up on the whole freshman fiasco, you set camp on a misplaced bench, figuring nobody is coming to your aid at this point.

"Well, what do we have here, a lost sheep?" The voice is deep and tender, carrying what's left of your attention span to it. You notice the tall figure's tailored outfit, worried at the possible misconception at first, before you decide you are too tired to care whether he believes you, or assumes a different reason for your absence. "Come on, tell me where you have to get to and I'll guide you to it. You're not the first student I've found lost in these halls." He stretches his hand towards you with a smile, and suddenly, all of your worries seem to fade.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Mammon ━ ෆ

The crisp air slither through the gaps in your garment, making you shudder and tighten the scarf around your neck; if there's anything you desire in this chilly early morning, it’s a hot cup of coffee to hold snug between your fingers. Not being welcomed by your name upon your arrival causes you to peek behind the counter to spot a new barista brushing back his silver hair in frustration, brows furrowing as he helplessly scrubs off a stain while trying to memorize a costumer's complicated order.

"It was medium decaf soy latte, extra shot of cream and two vanilla pumps. They order it every morning, don't worry, you'll get used to it." You approach with a chuckle; the latter responds with a sigh of relief as he frantically notes down your words. "It's a shame ya don't work here instead, my boss is extremely unhelpful-" His sentence is cut short when his eyes meet yours, lingering for a moment with his lips shaped into a perfect 'o'. "I-I'm Mammon, I'm actually a model but I work here part time- could I get your order, with your name and- your number too, maybe?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Leviathan ━ ෆ

You have been forging your hobby for quite a while now- gaming had been a passion of yours since a young age, and as the years passed you've grown better and better. The time has finally come for you to enter a professional competition, but once you pick up the courage to register, your connection fails you. Frustrated, you make your way towards the nearest internet cafe, praying your confident remains by the time you arrive.

Once seated, you take a glimpse at your neighbor's screen as you recognize the familiar colors, and your guess is indeed correct- he is signing up to the same competition as you. Your gaze shifts to the figure frantically typing and a pink hue spreads across your cheeks at the scenery, you did not expect him to look this cute. "Um- Excuse me..." you immediately regret the spark of courage that flushed through you, because now his eyes are on you, and you swear your voice is about to break. However, the latter is quicker to respond. "Are y-you talking to- to me?" he questions, looking around to make sure the two of you are the only ones inhibiting the cafe at this hour, his appearance just as sheepish as yours. "Y-Yes, I see you're registering to the same competition as me." you mutter bashfully, lowering your eyes as the contact was spreading fire to your cheeks. "I was wondering... if you'd want to be my teammate?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Satan ━ ෆ

As an avid book reader, you couldn't be more excited about your favorite author going on a book tour for his new release. His identity was kept a secret, and his appearance in events was scarce- many people claimed to have met him, but none had any evidence to back it up; You were determined to be a different case. However, disappointment is not late to follow as you are met with a cancellation notice, and a staff on the author's behalf shows up to market the book instead. Disheartened, you trudge through the library's halls to divert your mind off of your despondency, fingers lightly brushing over the hard covers as you walk past the shelves.

"I heard he never comes to his own events, very unprofessional, if you're asking me." You pause when a stranger address you, looking up to see blonde locks peeking through a hat. "His books are not even that good, honestly." the male shrugs before returning to the book in his hands. "Well, I'll have you know he's actually my favorite author. If he chooses not to reveal his identity, that's his right to do so." You reply, astonished by the sheer nerve and disrespect. "Hm, can I see that? Maybe I should give it a second look, since you think it's so good." He closes the book in his grasp and gestures towards the one in yours, scribbling something inside as you hand it to him before taking his leave. Confused, you open the cover to inspect the inscription. "I'm happy to hear you enjoyed my book; here's my phone number- give me a call sometimes so we can chat. -S."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Asmodeus ━ ෆ

You've always had a pull towards art and design, and your recent form of artistic expression is manifested through your nails- you've been enjoying coloring and decorating them with little drawings. However, the workload of your day to day life had been burdening your creative spirit, making you feel like you require a nudge in the right direction. With the recommendation of the internet, you decide to visit a trending independent nail salon and hopefully catch some inspiration while you get your nails done.

"Come here! Sit down, beautiful." Cheerfully, you are greeted by an angelic looking artist, his luscious pink curls outlining his flawless features, leaving you mesmerized enough to forget your own introduction. As your appointment progress, he lets you in on his secret gig as a junior fashion designer to advertise his brand, but also because he has the talent of picking a fresh face out of a crowd- or so he tells you, with a wink. In return, you share your own artistic endeavors, watching as he curiously tunes in, clearly wanting to hear more. "Just to be clear, I don't click like that with all of my clients." He offers a whimsical expression, but his nervousness shows through his stiff body language. "I really enjoyed talking to you, how about we see each other again, after hours?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Beelzebub ━ ෆ

"You deserve it." Failing to convince yourself, you take an anxious glimpse at your bank balance. For some time now, your friends had tried to convince you to accompany them to the hottest new place in town- an exclusive gourmet dining experience, drinks included, but the prices were keeping you at bay. A long, exhausting week was all it took to finally drive you to make a decision, though, stepping inside alone has you feeling a bit under dressed for the occasion, and your antsy attitude doesn't slip from the servers’ eyes.

"My name is Beel, I'll be your waiter today." A handsome redhead greets the group, eyes seemingly stalling on you for a just a promptous second. At first you thought you are misreading a mild coaxing towards a big tip, but around the third free entrée you assume the accidental brushes while delivering your food were, in fact, quite intentional. You decide to try out your luck, conveniently forgetting your coat on the chair when it's time to head out. As you return, your waiter is waiting where you left him, your coat hanging on his arm and his chiseled face graced with an expectant expression. "So, I'm actually also an aspiring chef- when I'm not waiting tables. Those extra dishes I let you sample were off menu, and my own doing. Would you like to maybe... meet up sometimes, and try some more of my cooking, just the two of us?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Belphegor ━ ෆ

It was a rare occurrence for you to experience a day where you had no responsibilities to attend to, and simultaneously, said day brought upon it not a single cloud in the sky and a sun that shines exceptionally bright. The urge to take a walk outside and feel the graze of nature over your skin is unavoidable, leading you to find yourself alone in the nearest park, enjoying a cherished moment of relaxation. Hearing a sudden purr, your eyes are met with the slanted pupils of a stray cat and your body acts on its own as you lean down to pet it. The feline refuses, and instead, meows at you before it trails off in a different direction, stopping once as if it grants you permission to follow.

"Ah, there you are, I was looking all over for you." Confused, your gaze follows the voice as you watch the cat being picked up into an embrace. "And you made a friend?" Now intended at you, you blink as a warm pair of arms brush against you, offering you the animal cuddled within their hold. "I'm Belphegor, by the way. I volunteer at the local cat shelter because they let me take naps at work." The stranger chuckles. "And I believe my cat had just chosen you." Looking around, you notice several cats perched at the man's feet, basking in the sun and enjoying the warm weather. "If you want, you're more than welcome to join us on our little-" He pauses, smiling shyly. "Cat nap..."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me mc #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons

585 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Mr. President

You were buzzing with excitement. You were currently getting ready for Bradley's birthday dinner at the White House. He'd made sure all of his friends from the Dagger Squad were granted special leaves and permissions to be in D.C. You were excited to see all of them again and celebrate his 37th birthday.

You were even more excited for the surprise you had planned for him later.

You were currently putting the finishing touches on your outfit. You carefully fastened your earrings before slipping your wedding rings on. You held up the front of your beaded lavender sheath dress as you waited for Bradley to come and zip it for you.

You quickly fired off a text to Jake and Jaycee to make sure they were still okay to help with your plan.

Soon, Bradley emerged from the bathroom with his lavender bow tie in hand. You took it from him before handing him your necklaces for him to fasten for you.

"Don't forget to zip me." You tease him.

"I won't, Sweetheart." He says as he drags the zipper up before smoothing his hands over the back and placing a kiss on your neck. You grin at him in the mirror before turning around in his arms with his tie in your hand.

You loop it around his neck, as your skilled fingers make quick work of it.

"You know," Bradley begins. "Before we were together, I bet I zipped a dozen and a half of your dresses. Since we've been married, I've lost count." He states. You look up from his tie and raise your eyebrow at him. A silent way of asking what his point is.

"And every time you have me zip it, I can't help but wonder what the things you have on underneath it look like." He finished as you secure the knot on his tie.

You smile at him sweetly before getting on your tip toes. You pull him down towards you and put your lips close to his ear.

"In case you were wondering about this dress, I'm not wearing anything under it." You whisper before kissing his cheek and walking out the bedroom door. It takes Bradley a minute to rest his brain after that remark.

....................

His birthday dinner is going fantastically well. Everyone is having a great time, and Bradley hasn't stopped smiling. Everyone has just finished dinner, and cake is being served when you leave your seat and head to a microphone.

"Good evening, everyone!" You warmly greet the crowd. "Thank you all so much for being here for this special occasion. I'm so excited to be celebrating my wonderful husband's birthday with all of you!" The room fills with applause.

"Now, I know he would rather do without, but I simply cannot let the day pass without singing 'Happy Birthday' to him, so I was hoping you all would be alright with that. Is everyone okay with that?" You ask. The crowd laughs and agrees.

Someone plays a few bars on a piano before you start singing to him:

"Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday, Mr. President,

Happy Birthday to you"

Bradley swears under his breath as he feels the crotch of his pants tighten. You look like a modern-day Marylin Monroe up there, and he's trying to figure out when would be the most polite time to steal you away and sneak out of his own party.

After a round of applause, the band picks back up again, and you make your way around the room, greeting guests, shaking hands, and thanking everyone for coming.

Bradley is tucked away in a corner, downing his third glass of champagne when Jake comes up to him.

"Easy there, Rooster, this isn't the Hard Deck," Jake jokes with him. Bradley rolls his eyes before setting the glass down.

"Hangman, why is champagne such a violent beverage?" Bradley asks him. "What do you mean?" Jake replies. "I mean, the more I drink it the more I think about when would be the best time to sneak out of here so I can go fuck my wife." Bradley clarifies. Jake almost chokes on his drink. He sputters out a cough before shaking his head and checking his phone.

"Well, I might be able to help you with that." He tells Bradley, and now it's his turn to look confused. Jake shakes his head before pulling a card out of his jacket pocket. "Mr. President" is written in your sleak hand writing on the front. "Have fun, Rooster." Jake says before patting him on the back and walking away.

Bradley opens the card to find three works written inside: "Oval Office, now."

He tucks the card in his suit and looks around the room to see that you have vanished. He makes sure that no one is watching before slipping out of the room and down to the West Wing.

His office is quiet and dim when he enters. He makes sure to lock the door behind him.

"Took you long enough," you speak. Bradley turns to find you perched on his desk. Your hair has been taken down from its neat updo, and your shoes are haphazardly tossed to the carpet. Your legs are crossed as you lean back on your palms and watch him walk towards you slowly, like a cat stalking it's prey.

"My, my, my. What do we have here, Mrs. First Lady?" Bradley asks you as he walks up to the desk and plants his hands on either side of you, trapping you in place.

"I just thought I'd give you an extra special present for your birthday, Bradley." You tell him. "And what might that be?" He asks you with a coy smile.

"Well, Mr. President," You begin as you reach up to remove his bow tie. "I thought it would be nice if the leader of the free world bent me over his desk and fucked me like a slut." You finished before unceremoniously tossing his tie to the floor.

You watch Bradley's eyes darken and his jaw clench. "Is that so? Does my perfect, smart, beautiful wife want to be treated like my play thing? Is she going to let me do anything I want to her for my birthday?" He asks cocking his head to the side.

"Yes, sir." You tell him. Any self-control Bradley had left vanishes. He crashes his lips to yours in a kiss that is all teeth and tongue. He pulls you harshly to the edge of the desk before running his fingers through your hair.

He shoves your dress up your hips before pushing your thighs open. He's pleased to see that you were telling the truth when you told him you weren't wearing anything under your dress.

One of his hands leaves your hair to swipe through your slick folds. He easily slips two digits in and begins to expertly curl them into you.

"Mmmm, fuck Bradley. Feels so good." You praise him. But the words had no sooner left you mouth, and he was stopping. "Bradley, no." You whine as you attempt to grind your core against his fingers.

"Only good girls get to call me Bradley. But you're not my good girl right now, are you? You're my needy slut who needs to be taken care of aren't you?" He growls out. His words send another wave of arousal through you. You aren't sure how to respond. Bradley must not have liked that you didn't answer him because he gives a harsh smack to your cunt, causing you to jump.

"Answer me. What are you right now? He asks again. "Your needy slut." You tell him. "Exactly, so if you want me to keep touching you, it's Sir or Mr. President. Understood?" He tells you.

"Yes, Sir, Mr. President." You respond to him. He grunts in approval before starting again.

He speeds up his movements from before alternating between curling his fingers and scissoring your walls. He can feel you pussy clenching around his digits and he knows that you're close.

"Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum all over my hand like the slut you are?" He asks you as his thumb circles your clit.

"Fuck—yes! I'm so close, Sir, please don't stop." You cry out. Bradley has no intentions of stopping. No, he wants to push you over the edge until you're stupid and crying and shaking.

Your thighs are already there as he draws the first orgasm of the night out of you. He guides you through it before withdrawing his fingers and licking you relase from them. You slump against him, but he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" He asks sarcastically." "Th—thank you, Mr. President" You stutter out.

"You're welcome." He bites back before pushing you to lay flat on the desk and kneeling between your wide spread thighs. "The cake was great, but this is the dessert I'd rather have." He mumbles before liking a stripe from your weeping hole to your throbbing clit.

He buried his face in your heat, fucking his tongue into you. His nose and the fine hairs of his mustache grazed your clit with each swipe of the firm muscle. One of your hands gripped the dark wood edge of the desk while the other grasped his curls. You wrapped your thighs around his head, securing him in place. The heel of your foot dug into his back. There would probably be a bruise from it. You didn't care, though. It wouldn't be the first time the two of you had left marks on each other from lovemaking.

You were approaching another peak when Bradley pulled off of you with a wet pop.

You let out a displeased cry.

"Look at me. He growled from his position. You leaned up on your elbows just enough to meet his eyes. They were blown with lust. Your wetness coated his face and chin. The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and you could see the flush of his skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" He asks you. "You have no idea just how much power you have. I mean, look, you have the most powerful man in the world on his knees for you. No one else on earth can do that to me but you. I might be the leader of the nation, but for you, I'm a humble servant who is grateful for the chance to worship you." Bradley states as he kisses your thighs.

"Now, I want you to watch, while the president of the United States makes you cum all over his face." He tells you before diving back in.

His eyes never leave you as he works you up again. He slips his hands under your ass and pulls you closer to him as you grind against his face. Another wave of pleasure is about to crash over you.

"Sir—Mr. President— fuck!" You cry out as the band snaps. You try to keep looking at him, but it's too much. Your head lulls back, and you close your eyes as you ride the wave. Bradley doesn't stop his tongue until you're pulling him back because it's just too much.

He gets up from his spot on the floor and takes off his jacket before cupping your jaw and kissing you. "You okay?" He asks, pressing he forehead to yours. "Very." You assure him. "Think you can do one more for me?" You smirk at him. "I know I can, Mr. President."

Bradley smirks back at you before pulling you off his desk, spinning you around, and pushing you flush against the cool wood. He stops just long enough to undo his belt and push his trousers down to free his aching cock. Precum coats the tip of it.

He hikes you dress up even further, so your perfect ass is on display for him. He gives it a few harsh smacks as he fists himself. He loves the little mewls you let out with each strike.

He pushes into you without warning, your gummy walls gripping him as he begins to pound into you. The blunt tips of his fingernails dig into the flesh of your hips.

His taking you so hard and so fast that your body jolts forward with each thrust. He grabs the base of your neck to hold you firmly in place as he continues to pound into you.

A string of incoherent curses and moans leaves your mouth as he drives into you. Bradley smiles, knowing he's the only one who can make the oh so smart First Lady sounds like a babbling idiot.

"That's it, baby doll. Keep babbling like the dumb little slut you are while the president fucks you. Love how fucking stupid and needy you sound right now." Bradley growls out as he pulls you up flush against his torso.

"You're pretty little pussy is squeezing me so fucking much right now. Do you wanna cum again for me?" He asks against the shell of your ear.

"Yea—" you managed to squeak out.

"If you wanna cum, you're going to have to ask me nicely. Go on, use your words, Sweetheart." He goads you, knowing damn good and well that you can't because of how he's fucking you right now.

You want to ask him. You really do. You want to beg him to let you finish because you're so fucking close, but he's only giving you just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. You want to tell him how good he feels and how much you love him. You also want to tell him that this orgasm that is building doesn't feel like one you've ever had before.

You want to tell him that you feel like you're on fire. You want to tell him that you might cry if you don't get to finish soon. You want to tell him how badly you want it. But the only thing you can manage in your pleasure induced high is:

"Please, Mr. President." He chuckles at how pathetic you sound before pushing you over the edge. You feel the relief wash over you as your release flows out of you and coats your thighs and his. He continues to fuck you through it, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from you.

He close himself, and the feeling of you clenching around him and cumming harder than you ever have, has him on edge.

"Shit, that's it baby doll, fucking cum all over me. God you're pussy feels so fucking good. Fuck I'm so fucking close. I'm going to cum in this pretty little hole of yours and fill you up. Gonna fill you up so fucking good, you'll feel me in there for weeks baby doll." He cries out before painting your walls white with his thick release.

He collapses on top of you. Both of you are sweaty and panting. The air in the Oval Office is thick with the scent of sex.

It takes several minutes before either of you can speak.

"Happy Birthday, Dearest." You tell Bradley.

"What a birthday it was." He states as he pulls out of you. You can feel his cum leaking put of you onto the desk, but your entire body feels like jello and you can't move.

Bradley quickly grabs some tissues to clean the both of you up. He then scoops you up bridal style and makes a mental note to come back later and clean everything up.

He carries you back to your living quarters before depositing you on the bed. You motion for him to cuddle you, and of course, he does.

"Do I want to know how you orchestrated this whole thing?" He asks you. "Probably not." You reply.

He shakes his head and wants to ask you, but he thinks better of it. Somethings are better left unsaid.

Oh wow, babes! It finally happened! The Oval Office has been defiled!

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @chicomonks @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby

438 notes · View notes

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 8 months

Text

Just a lil update for Complicated ;)

Part 1.5 ❤️

Warnings; Angst, little sprinkling of fluff. Eddie is kind of a dick, confusing feelings.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

Vote on part one for who you want this story to be about. Eddie or Steve? 👀

❤️

Things were a little awkward after Eddie walked in on you and Steve. He was quieter than normal, lost in thought.

"I just never thought you would be Steve's type you know, like at all" Eddie shrugs as he smokes a blunt, the two of you are hanging out before you go to Family Video to pick a movie for the week.

You freeze. The comment feels like a slap across the face, not Steve's type... Did he think you were ugly or something? Was that what he was implying?

"What do you mean? You think I'm not pretty enough for Steve Harrington?" Eddie's eyes widen and he nearly drops the blunt, swearing when it burns his fingers.

"What? No! I mean... Shit, I just mean that he's still into Nancy and she's all uh preppy, kinda popular and shit...I'm not explaining myself well huh?"

"You think?" you mutter, still hurt and try to focus on the movie but you can feel the tears building up in your eyes.

"You're pretty, of course you're pretty sweetheart, of course Steve would like you but come on! I like the guy a lot but could you be anymore generic with picking the popular, pretty boy?"

Okay, now you're pissed.

"Excuse me! You're dating Chrissy, yes she's sweet and all but she was the queen of Hawkins High and you call me generic. Really Eddie?" he blushes and begins to munch some popcorn.

"Look, I'm just saying. I just thought you'd go for like Gareth or somebody like that" you shake your head and grab your coat.

No, I have to be in love with you which fucking sucks because I'm never ever going to be noticed by you.

"We better pick a movie before the store closes, come on" You need some air before you really lose it at Eddie.

💕

Eddie is mumbling apologies as he follows you into the store but you are to be busy feeling nervous at seeing Steve.

You haven't seen him since the morning you two woke up together and you're anxious to get this meeting over with.

Robin looks between you and Steve and grins.

"Steve! look who's here?" Steve meets your gaze and you give him a little wave and Eddie goes to pick the movie.

"Hi" you say and try to sound as casual as possible. Memories from the night flit through your mind and it's hard not to show how flustered you feel.

"Hey honey, sorry I haven't seen you in a little while. Works been crazy and just a lot of shit going on" He's blushing and it's adorable.

"Steve, we're adults, we had a really hot night together and we shouldn't be embarrassed by it. Like I said, I really enjoyed myself"

He relaxes.

"Me too. You okay? it's just you looked pretty tense when you came in" shrugging you attempt to downplay it, even though you're still hurting.

"Eddie said he didn't think I'd be your type. It kinda stung a little bit" he frowns and gently touches your arm.

The minute he makes contact with your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin, it feels like you're on fire, tingles erupt all over your body.

"That's a lot of shit. You're beautiful honey"

Fuck. Steve's gaze meets yours and there's such an intensity to it. Every part of you aches to close the distance between you both.

Suddenly, there's a slam on the table as Eddie places down the vhs tapes. His eyes are stormy, a scowl on his face.

"Are you two going to sit looking gaga over each other all night or can we get these to go?" Steve blinks stunned and his soft expression hardens.

"What the fuck is your problem Munson?" he asks Eddie, tone simmering with annoyance.

"Nothing, don't have a problem Harrington" he snaps and Robin takes over the exchange her eyes wide as she looks at Eddie to Steve.

"Enough! I'm fed up of your shit tonight Eddie. Go have a movie night alone until you stop being a dick" You tell him and he scoffs.

"Fine, I'll just ask Chrissy - you know, my girlfriend over instead" the ice in his tone confuses you and you feel the tears come again but will them away.

He's not going to see you cry. The jackass.

"Don't talk to her like that" Steve growls but Eddie leaves without replying, slamming the door on his way out.

💕💕

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x y/n

186 notes · View notes

icouldntfinditsoiwroteit · 3 months

Text

Guardian angel

Part two of this

You were running, running like you had never before in your life as you tried to find your way out of the hellish maze you were stuck on.

Trying to frighten off any small critter with the flares, you hated this place, the mazes that were somehow enjoyable to children.

"Uh...angel?" Dogday spoke as you once more went through the same area...for the third time.

"What?" You snapped, you were absolute done with everything, Catnap could go fuck the prototype for all you cared, the small critters could go off and die, you already had a damn good idea of what had happened to your coworkers, it wasn't rocket science.

"I think were lost..." Dogday said tentatively.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," You said sarcastically.

"Oh, i-it's ok, I can help you, the exit is actually really close, we...passed it a few times" Dogday quickly explained in a slightly cheery way.

*Great, he doesnt understand sarcasm* You thought annoyed but wanting to get out of here already you went were he had pointed, and he was right, the exit was right there.

You sighed in relief as you finally got out of that area and quickly began making your way to the exit of playhouse, but as you did you almost tripped over something.

"Angel, are you alright?" Dogday asked worried as you regained your footing.

"Yeah, I just didn't see that...thing" You finally noticed what you had tripped with, the ofending object had been none other than a familiar mug.

*Of all things, that, is still in one piece* You though unhable to no be amused as you looked at the mug with "#1 asshole" written on it*

You couldnt help but reminisense on it...

You walked through the coldly lit corridor, not focusing on any of the other scientists you walked past from time to time, you guessed it was probably morning already from how tired you were feeling, that and the increasing number of scientists coming in to work.

*I really need some coffee...* You thought as you bussied yourself with the clipboard in your hands, reading over some of the results on the new scents that you were asked to develop for some new toy line, something that should have been easy, at least if the creative team were cooperative and not stubborn for holding over a small grudge over you.

"I swear to god, I would have gotten them all fired if I knew they would be so childish," You muttered as you entered the breakroom, making a beeline for the one thing in this world that gave you happiness.

The coffee machine...and it was empty.

*Fuck,* You cursed internally as you begrudgingly began preparing another pot of coffee, looking over at the clock as you poured the water, confirming that it was in fact 6 am, which meant you'd only get your cup of coffee at 6:10.

*If I find whoever didn't refill the coffee pot I'll make them suffer,* You thought bitterly, taking a seat on the lone table of the break room, rereading the tests for the different scents so as to not risk falling asleep before the coffee was done.

When the coffee was finally done you stood up with relief as you went to retrieve you mug, but as you opened the cupboard you found another problem, you're mug was not there, in fact, it was nowhere to be seen, as you began looking for it in the other cupboards you didn't notice as the door to the break room opened.

You only realized you were no longer when you heard the gruff voice of your coworker Harley.

"Morning," He greeted groggily as he walked to the coffee machine and began pouring himself a cup of coffee...in your mug.

*That son of a bitch*

"Harley," You said curtly, glaring at him as he continued to prepare his coffee, pouring an unholy amount of sugar and creamer.

"Yeah?" He asked, still focused on his abomination of a coffee, seemingly unknowing of what he was doing, but you knew Harley, you had known him since college, and this was just him being an asshole like always.

"Why are you using my mug?"

"Oh, I must have grabbed it without noticing during the night, you can use another, I'm sure no one will mind," He said absentmindedly, he just like you would constantly pull all nighters, you were both now in you third all nighter that week.

But he was a good for nothing liar, for some reason every scientist in your floor were very...territorial with their cups, you included, Harley clearly just wanted you to go home so he could brag over staying over more than you that week, it didn't matter that by now none of you actually knew who the original owner of the mug had been, it was a matter of pride...and you had to admit, you did like the mug.

So you weren't about to let him win, so as soon as he returned the coffee pot to the machine you grabbed the pot itself.

"Very well, have a good morning Dr.Saywer," You said politely as if you weren't taking the whole floor's only coffee pot, which would make many of the scientists quite...cranky to say the least, something Harley would have to deal with himself.

You sighed with amusement, you couldn't help but miss those times, back when you didn't have to survive rogue murderous toys.

*I knew making them need to eat would bite us in the end, and it in fact bit them in the ass* You thought to yourself amused as you continued your way to the exit.

Once you left the playhouse you heard a phone ringing just as you got out of the Playhouse, as you answered you heard the voice of Ollie.

"Hey are you alright? No ouchies or lost body parts?"

"I am alright," You answered, trying not to be too annoyed by Ollie's words, he was a child after all, it was expected for him to talk in such a manner.

"I'm really glad you're okay, I don't wanna lose any more friends to this place,"

*What even is a child like him doing here...*

"And-oh, you have Dogday with you, that's amazing, I thought they were all...well, you know,"

"Dead..." Ollie whispered the last word as if he would get scolded for saying it.

"But it's good you found him...or what's left of him," You could feel Dogday slightly shifting his weight on you back, he probably felt a bit uncomfortable, not by Ollie's words but most probably by being in the open after being stuck in that cell for who knows how long.

"Anyways, we're really close to the end,"

"I sent you a new key, you're going to the counselor's office instead,"

"It's not ideal...but it should have enough juice, if you can get that generator going and plug it in, I think we'll be done!"

*Finally, this is really getting tiring,*

"Just keep your eye open for Catnap, I doubt he'll be happy when he find you took Dogday, he was always awfully...territorial over any of the smiling critters, especially Dogday now that he is the last one left,"

*Right...I really love making my life harder than necessary,* You thought, wanting to facepalm, but once more felt Dogday's increasing uneasiness, he was already looking around, probably to watch out for Catnap.

"So keep your eyes open, any shadow and flickering is a hiding place for Catnap,"

"Good luck, talk to you soon,"

At this Ollie hung up and you resumed your walking, before going to retrieve the key to go to the counselors office you'd need to go and leave Dogday with Poppy.

You were walking through the daycare towards the platform lift, were Poppy and KissyMissy should be waiting, you hated to say this but you were growing more than tired over carrying the upper half of Dogday, he had been quiet once you had managed to get out of playhouse, you had to admit you had regretted you choice in rescuing him while trying to escape the playhouse and having to avoid the small smiling critters all while having to carry the not at all light Dogday.

He was so heavy, your back was definitely not happy with you, but he had been more than helpful as he had made himself useful by warning you of any small critter you hadn't seen and he himself swatting some of them away.

But now the adrenaline was running out and his already heavy weight began to grow as you walked.

*I'll need to find another way to move him besides carrying, this won't be viable in the long run...I wonder, was his lower half eaten or just ripped apart...*

"Dogday," You spoke, you hated how loud you sounded in the silent daycare, you felt Dogday startled at you suddenly speaking.

"Yes, angel?" He asked, he sounded tired and nervous, no doubt worrying about something...maybe he was still in shock at your sudden action, it would be fairly understandable.

"Your lower half, was it eaten away or ripped off?" You asked, not beating around the bush.

"Oh...that...Catnap ripped my lower half at the start of everything, I doubt it hasn't been eaten by now," He said, you felt his body shiver at the memory of being ripped.

*It is quite the feat for Dogday to still be alive...Catnap clearly was attached to him in some way, weird, that wasn't meant to happen..but then again, none of this was meant to happen,*

"That is true, although I wonder, did toys wander around the daycare before?" You asked.

"No, this is Catnap's territory, not even the small critters come out of the cave, any toy that wandered in here would meet a swift end at Catnap's hands," Dogday explained.

"I see, and what about Miss Delight, did she come out of the school?" You asked as you finally saw the platform lift come into eyesight.

"I don't think so, I don't think Catnap would let her out much, I don't even know why he kept her alive, he wouldn't tell me much,"

*Even then I doubt his lower body is still intact, perhaps I can use Missdelight's tissue to build him some legs, but I would need access to my laboratory...damn,* You thought it over, you would be capable of making another pair, but the daycare was too far from the lab, unless you found another lab nearby it wouldn't be plausible.

*But then again...Catnap's body is identical, if I can kill him I could use his legs, reattaching their bodies is much simpler than making another pair of legs,* You thought as you finally reached the platform lift and called over for Poppy, the lift slowly descended, as soon as Poppy saw you and you not so little passenger her eyes widened in shock.

"You found Dogday, amazing," She said, sounding surprised yet relieved but then she noticed the state he was in and her eyes filled with pity.

"Oh you poor thing, here, lay him here so you can rest,"

You didn't protest, you let him down and sighed in relief at taking his weight off of you.

"I had no idea you were alive, had I known..." Poppy began as she looked at Dogday.

"You wouldn't have been able to do much, Catnap wouldn't have let you," Dogday explained, sounding just as tired as you felt.

*I doubt she would have been able to do anything, she was stuck in that box afterall,* You thought as you glanced a Kissymissy, she was looking down at you.

Even if her face didn't change from that permanent smile you couldn't help but feel she was studying you...as if she was surprised by your action.

*What am I thinking, I doubt she even understands or cares,* You discarded the thought quickly.

"I'll get going, I still need to get the counselor's office generator going," You informed, already turning to leave.

"W-wait, angel, I'll go with you," Dogday quickly said, trying to move towards you, using his hands, but you could tell it was hard for him, he was definitely still exhausted, not to forget his arms were probably atrophied from lack of use, due to him having been basically crucified in his cell.

"No, you will stay here, it'll be easier and quicker for me, I cannot be carrying you around all the time, you are simply too heavy for me," You explained as a matter of fact.

"I can still accompany you, you don't need to carry me, I can use my hands to move," Dogday tried to protest.

You raised an eyebrow, he had barely managed to move close to you and was clearly already out of energy, you sighed and picked him up to put him back on the platform lift.

"It will be safer for you to stay with Poppy, I'll be back soon," You said as you left and as the lift elevated once more.

You made your way to the stairs to go under the giant statue of the smiling critters to retrieve the key, but you glanced at the statue for a moment.

*I wonder, how did the others die...did Catnap kill them?* You wondered.

*Ollie did say Catnap was territorial over them, maybe he saw them as possessions...maybe other toys killed them...although Catnap could still have killed them, he was attached to Dogday and yet that didn't save him from being mangled and almost eaten by those small critters,*

You had wanted to ask Dogday about it, but even you knew it wouldn't be the best idea to ask, not at the moment at least.

Soon you retrieved the key and made your way to the counselor's office, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you knew would not be an easy challenge.

#poppy playtime 3 #poppy playtime #dogday #poppy #catnap #reader insert #kissy missy #smilling critters #Dogday has abandoment issues

63 notes · View notes

lovelykhaleesiii · 10 months

Note

CEO!Aegon having you sit under his desk and suck his cawk

Ughhh I’m in such a hot mood for Aeg right now, so the fact I went straight here doesn’t help HAHAHA

hope you enjoy this Bel, this had me in a chokehold xoxox 💕💕💕

Hardly Workin'

PAIRING: Chubby!CEO!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,818.

WARNINGS: mentions of an office romance/affair, male oral receiving, exhibition kink (?), slight reference to fatphobic comments, reference to p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - I'm so sorry I made him chubby, but also not really because we all know that man would add a few pounds with a desk job and I couldn't help myself. ps I powered thru this because I just couldn't help myself. CHOKEHOLD.

To have a high-ranking employer that was devilishly handsome and blatantly licentious, was all in all, a dangerous game. Aegon Targaryen, with well awareness, knew the authority and the power he had over his meek, replaceable employees, could be used effortlessly to his advantage. In particular, when it related to work and sex.

Many of the women in the workplace, had whisper giddily amongst themselves of his overpowering demeanour, the way he'd often use his position to sate his own lusts, teasing, sneaking a grope, copping a feel, and yet, earning the full attention of the ladies, nonetheless.

Not to mention, Aegon had quite the larger figure... It seemed the sedentary lifestyle of the corporate world, along with the stress-eating, constant dining out to meet with clients, the late night take-out you'd order for him as he worked late hours into the night, and endless parties and drinking, all came at cost. This did not stop Aegon from claiming what was his. Even using his physique to his fullest advantage, finding himself "accidentally" pressing his swollen frame against your body in tight spaces, especially in the elevator. Feeling your tits press against his fat, rotund chest, always left a sly smirk across his face. Sated with himself, as he often found himself after gorging in a full take-out meal.

You'd heard numerous of times, many of the encounters a few of the "lucky" women had with Aegon: from little rendezvous' and scheduled dates, only to end with them lost, hopeful craving for more corporate cock, only to be met with a dead end.

Aegon did not pursue most, however his situation with you was... Different. You were the only one he found himself helplessly crawling back to, eager for more of your attention and tight cunt. You commenced as his personal receptionist/assistant less than a year ago, for the previous one left for unknown reasons.

The job was stressful and kept you busy, although the paperwork itself was a breeze, in comparison to having to resist Aegon himself when you had initially started. He was handsome nonetheless, his unique features that ran strongly in the Targaryen family, most of his siblings, cousins and father you would see from time to time. They looked completely ethereal in comparison to the rest of you mortals, with their lilac/violet orbs, and silver-blonde hair to contrast one another.

You did put up somewhat of a fight, in comparison to most of the other women, always making Aegon gorge more and in quite an aggressive manner, taking his anger out on other lower ranked employees, the more his frustration brew because of your firm resistance to his urges.

"Made me crave for you even more, but you drove me wild, Y/N," Aegon would openly admit, as his pudgy hands squeezed and dug at your bare ass cheeks, beneath your black midi skirt.

Regardless, once you had finally caved [in much to Aegon's relief], the relationship was layered beneath the disguise of a secret affair [not that Aegon was seeing or exclusive with anyone else, it would mean that he would need to fire you, as it was against strict corporate policy]. Aemond, his younger, much slimmer brother, was head of Human Resources, and if he caught a whiff of his older brother's shenanigans, he would not take it lightly. Aemond often found any excuse to humiliate Aegon publicly, especially if the family were there to witness. Any minor screw up, he would sniff it out like some bloodhound, and yet, with your brightly avid mind, you always ensured Aegon and yourself were a few steps ahead. Not to say you did not have a few close calls, Aegon's arousal often made him unpredictable, and this instance was no different...

"Such a good fucking girl. My very own obedient, little whore, aren't you, huh?" Aegon breathlessly mustered, leaning back on his grand, swivel chair as he bucked his plump hips forward.

Your mouth too full of his rigid, wet cock, the only response Aegon earned was helpless, feeble gags and moans from your gaping mouth.

"Th-That's it. Doing s-so, so well, taking my fat fucking cock like that, with that pretty, l-little mouth of yours-Ugh-" Aegon gutturally uttered, his breathing audible enough from above. Seated beneath him underneath his spacious desk, between his thick, sturdy thighs, squeezing your smaller frame between his legs.

"Mhmm, fuck baby-"

Your moist, stretched lips persisted with struggle trying to maintain his wide cock inside: your head slowly motioning back and forth, in a steady pace, as Aegon's hot seed oozed inside, coating your throat completely.

Without a moment to spare in intense, bliss silence, Aegon's desktop phone rang, followed by the familiar beep of the voicemail.

"Sir, your brother Aemond, has just arrived at the reception, and wishes to see you immediately, he's heading up right now- BEEP."

"Fuck!" Aegon seethed, as he lunged his mighty frame forwards in a haste and without warning, his cock buried itself deeper, harshly hitting the back of your throat with vigour, causing you to instinctively gag loudly.

"Sorry, m'sweetheart- That twat of a brother of mine is coming, gotta clean up now-"

As Aegon handed you his unspoiled, white handkerchief, you wiped off his fresh, rich residue off the corner of your mouth, as Aegon hastily buttoned up his pants. His stomach sated yet hardened and distended from a big lunch, he struggled to do the final button atop: from the looks of it, you gathered that his leather belt would not buckle, alternatively urging Aegon to remain seated behind the desk to hide the disheveled look, before his rage took over.

Just as you made the final attempts to help tidy his shirt, the sudden opening of the front door caught Aegon off guard. Instinctively, the feeling of his pudgy palm shoved your head aggressively back beneath the desk, as he shushed you before resuming his attention back towards the entrance to his office.

"Brother-"

"Aegon-"

"Pleasure to see you, as always-" Aemond teasingly insisted, as he comfortably sat himself down on the lounge, hearing the dull knock of his feet sprawled upon the wooden desk. You'd witnessed on many occasions, Aemond's egotistical presence, acting as though he'd owned the room upon which he had entered, scoffing that it was his cringe attempt of a "power move".

"The pleasure is mine. What brings you here so suddenly? Not even a call would suffice?"

"I like to make surprises, besides a call would be useless... That pretty, dumb receptionist of yours is nowhere to be found out there."

Aemond's targeted, back-handed comment infuriated you, though not to the extent to which it seemed Aegon was beginning to rile up. His fists clenched into a ball, his knuckles whitening, as Aemond's low chuckle echoed across the silent room.

"I'm only kidding, dear brother. She seems like a real sweetheart... And that figure, Gods did they take their time with her... You must really be enjoying work now, I bet... I know I fucking would."

Aegon instinctively slapped his heavy palm against his sprawled thigh, sighing in frustration, as he urged Aemond to speak.

"What exactly are you here for, Aemond? You do realise you're wasting company time...I don't think father would approve of that very much."

The tense silence had befallen the room once more, as Aemond exhaled defeatedly, before resuming the serious talk. His feet now flat on the floor, he instantly dropped what you presumed to be a dense folder atop Aegon's neat desk.

Aegon leaning forward, as his portly upper body leaned forward against the desk, the opportunity immediately presented himself, quite literally to your face.

His rotund stomach pushed through naturally, forcing his zipper to undo itself, as his stiff cock was practically begging to get out of its restraint. All it needed was a little assistance. Your lips curved cheekily into a giddy smile, your cheeks flushing scarlet. You knew Aegon would advise against this, although a carnal urge to finish what you'd started, desperate to ease Aegon's mind with his brother's tense presence.

Your tender hands moved towards, tugging at Aegon's tight pants just a tiny bit lower, as his stiff, girthy cock plunged forward. The sight excited you like it had the first time, and you felt Aegon's eyes hovering above with dreading suspense. One pudgy hand found its way down to his cock, poorly attempting to act as a barricade, yet you swiftly swat it away, before teasingly biting at his plump fingers. You mindlessly let out a little snicker, which thankfully for Aegon's quick instincts, was muffled with a sudden eruption of a cough.

"Uh- You okay there?" Aemond suspiciously enquired, as his unimpressed gaze pondered over his elder.

"Y-Yes, carry on-"

Your lips eagerly resumed once more, picking up the familiar pace it once ensued, as you coated and lapped at his thick cock. Your dizzy head bobbing up and down, side to side in a sensual motion, your keen tongue slurping at his hot seed pooling from the throbbing tip.

"M-Mhmm-" Aegon hummed, his breathing once more growing denser, as he evidently began to struggle maintaining normalcy.

"Aeg- Do you understand? We need these deadlines to be sorted ASAP. The team needs to reach the target budget or else we suffer a huge loss to our competitors... Those fucking Baratheons-"

"Y-Yep, gotcha. I-Is that all?" Aegon thickly heaved, taking a grand breath in, holding it for a split second to recoup his sense to persevere.

"You sure you're okay? You look a little tense... Did you eat too much again? You do know the food doesn't run away once its cooked, right, hog?"

"Fuck off, dickhead. Close the door on your way out-"

With much anticipation of Aemond's exit, the shutting of the door and your mouthful wonders, Aegon's warm, thickly coated seed shot rapidly down your throat, swallowing his bliss.

Aegon loudly gasped for air, as he slowly regained his senses, pulling himself out. The handkerchief he initially gave, still remained on your lap, reusing it to clean up his enamored mess.

"God, you needy, impatient little thing. You couldn't wait till he left, huh? So desperate for this fat fucking cock, you just couldn't help yourself to seconds, hm?"

"You have a conference meeting in 30 minutes, Aeg... I was simply just being time efficient," You innocently jested, as you comfortably sat yourself down on Aegon's wide, tubby thighs, his plush, meaty stomach pressed against your frame, almost trying to push you off. His pudgy hips pooled at his sides, as you poked at the dense adipose tissue beneath, yearning a sudden yelp from Aegon.

"30 minutes you say? That's plenty of time-"

"Plenty of time for what?"

"To fuck you stupid on this desk till your practically too useless to work for the rest of the evening...Does an early mark sound good, Princess?"

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

credit for header - @/saradika 🤍

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fluff #chubby!Aegon ii #modern!chubby!Aegon ii #CEO!chubby!Aegon ii #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x y/n #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #hotd imagine

331 notes · View notes