#STOP FUCKIN LYIN TO THAT LADY
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Everything is fine | Next
#ts4#indya#black simblr#BRO!#STOP FUCKIN LYIN TO THAT LADY#I'll be in my room#*sigh*#ts4 story#sims 4 story#simblr#ch21
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This is an excerpt from my story "This Life, After" on a03:
Damn, you are one ugly fuckin’ brat, ya know that, boy?”
Levi ignores him; doesn’t say nothin’. He thinks that’s best. Mama always told him so. Ignore bullies and soon they’ll go away, she always said. Kenny was a bully. Levi thinks so. He was mean, like the bullies back home. The other kids who always used to make fun of Levi for being so small. Used to beat him up for it.
He can feel Kenny’s eyes on him. He knows Kenny don’t like him. Kenny always looked at him like he was lackin’.
So he ignores him, and he hears Kenny grumble.
“Unsociable little brat, too.” He says.
Levi don’t know what unso… unsoci… don’t know what that word means.
Kenny was always usin’ big words like that. He talked rough, but he sounded like Mama too. Liken’ he came from someplace better. Liken he knew stuff. Mama sounded real refined, like. Sounded like a… a real lady, Levi figures. Not that he knew what a real lady sounded like. Most ‘a the ladies down here, they was… well, they was whores, like his Mama.
But Mama didn’t sound like them, none. When she talked. She… she sounded real refined, like.
Levi frowns down at his doll.
He misses Mama, so much. Misses her so much, it got him to cryin’, sometimes. Kenny got real mad, when he got to cryin’. Would hit him upside the head. One time… one time, he hit him upside his head so hard, Levi had gone to sleep, and when he’d woke up, everythin’ was all tilty and weird, and it’d stayed that way a long while, too.
Levi’d been scared, but he hadn’t said nothin’ to Kenny, ‘cause he knew Kenny wasn’t like to care, either way.
Sometimes… sometimes Mama’s men would hit him too. Real hard like that. Hit him ‘till he’d go to sleep. They was meaner, even, than Kenny. Sometimes. Sometimes, they’d beat on him so bad, he’d go all black and blue, all over his body, and his mouth would fill up with blood, and he’d scream and cry. And Mama… she’d scream and cry also. She’d try sometimes to make her men stop, but all she ever got for it was a bloody mouth too.
Well… that was before.
But Mama’s gone now.
She got to bein’ sick. She just kept getting’ worse and worse, and after a while, she didn’t have the strength to even cry no more, or throw up a fuss when one ‘a her men got to wantin’ Levi, ‘stead ‘a her.
Levi don’t like to think ‘bout that time, too much. So he tries not.
Mama made him this doll. It was his. His doll.
He’d took it with him, when Kenny came and made him leave his and Mama’s home.
She’d made it outta’ rough cloth and filled it with straw. And Mama… Mama had been real good with a needle and thread. She’d stitched a little face on it, and hair made outta’ yarn, and she’d told Levi it was his, and he could name it whatever he liked.
Levi named it Mama, ‘cause he didn’t know no other name that felt suited. Mama had laughed and smiled at him when he told her. Had put her hand on his head and mussed up his hair.
Levi likes to think ‘a that. He likes those thoughts.
“Hey, brat… you listenin’ to me?” Kenny keeps talkin’ at him. “You deaf now, too?”
“… Mama said I was hands… handso…” can’t say the word.
“Handsome.” Kenny says it for him. And then he laughs. “Dumb brat. All mothers say shit like that to their kids. It’s practically a prerequisite for motherhood. Don’t mean it’s true.”
Levi frowns again. Somethin’ in his chest hurts, like it sometimes got to when Kenny said stuff like that. Stuff like… like his Mama was lyin’ to him.
“… I think you’re ugly.” He mutters.
“What was that?” Kenny asks. Levi hears him get up from where he was sittin’. Comin’ closer.
Levi feels himself lock up, a sick tickle through his tummy. He cringes away when Kenny’s shadow falls over him.
“… N-nothin’.” He stammers.
Kenny grabs him up by the shirt, lifts him off the floor.
“Didn’t sound like n-nothin’, boy. Wanna’ say it to my face?”
Levi turns his head away, tears burning his eyes.
“… No.”
“Didn’t think so.” Kenny spits. “Ugly and soft. Fuckin’ pitiful.”
Levi hangs there and hopes Kenny lets him go soon. Hopes Kenny leaves, ‘least for a while.
He hates bein’ alone, but Kenny was so mean.
Kenny don’t let him go.
“Look at you. Playin’ with dolls. The fuck’s wrong with you? You a faggot or somethin’?”
Levi don’t know what that is, ‘neither.
Kenny gives him a hard shake. And then he’s rippin’ his doll outta’ his hand, and Levi cries out, tryin’ to grab it back.
But Kenny drops him to the floor, then, and Levi don’t come up past his knee, and Kenny’s so tall, there ain’t no way… no way he can reach.
Tears fill his eyes, makin’ everythin’ fuzzy.
“Give it back.” He tries, grabbin’ hold of Kenny’s pants. “I-it’s mine.”
Kenny ignores him, holds the doll in his big hand and turns it this way and that, starin’ at it like he sometimes stares at Levi. Like it’s lackin’.
“The fuck you get this thing, anyway?” He asks. “You been draggin’ it ‘round the whole time I’ve had ya.”
Levi’s throat feels tight, his lip trembling.
“M-Mama… Mama made it for me.”
Kenny finally looks down at him, frown deepening.
“Did she, now?” He says. “That makes sense. Damn woman. All that softness you got in you, boy, you get it from her.”
Levi don’t know what he means by softness. Don’t care. He wants his doll. He tugs at Kenny’s pants again.
“Give it back. I-it’s mine.”
“Heh. Naw, don’t think so, brat. You ain’t gonna’ make it down here, you keep up with that faggoty shit. Little boy shouldn’t be playin’ with dolls, no how.”
And he turns, his long legs striding across the room, and Levi don’t even got time to react before Kenny throws Mama into the fire.
“NO!” He cries, running forward. But it’s too late. Mama’s on fire, burnin’ up quick as paper, gone in an instant.
He stands there, starin’ at the embers as they flare up, then die down, the loud, crackling pop filling the room.
Tears burn down his cheeks, his hands numb. He starts breathin’ funny. Fast and hard, head all light and dizzy.
“Watch’a gonna’ do about it, boy?” Kenny asks beside him. “I just burned your little dolly up, nice ‘an crisp. Don’t it make ya mad?”
Levi blinks, barely hearin’ him. Can’t move. He starts shakin’, numbness spreading to his lips, breathin’ faster.
“Well? Come on, Levi! Don’t it make ya mad!?”
And suddenly there’s a powerful grip crushing round his arm, yanking him up from the floor.
“Huh?! Come on! Get mad at me, boy!”
Kenny shakes him viciously, Levi limp and helpless in his grasp, chokin’ on his own spit. He gasps desperately, and Kenny sneers at him.
“Fuckin’ useless. Why won’t you do nothin’!? You ain’t gonna’ make it down here. I ain’t gonna’ keep stickin’ around for this shit. Show me somethin’ boy, or I swear, you’re on your own!”
Levi doesn’t… he don’t… don’t know what Kenny wants from him. He burned his doll. Burned it up. The only thing he had left of her. The only thing.
The back of Kenny’s hand comes against his face, and Levi starts to scream.
“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Kenny shakes him again, hits him again, and Levi just keeps screaming. Screaming and screaming until Kenny throws him to the ground.
Levi covers himself, arms over his head, voice high and loud in his own ears.
“Mama…” he cries. “Mama, Mama…”
“Fuckin’… You dumb bastard. She’s dead! Don’t you get it? Didn’t ya tell me so yourself? She’s fuckin’ dead and she ain’t comin’ back! You better toughen up, boy, or you’re gonna’ end up just like her!”
Levi thinks ‘bout tellin’ Kenny he wishes he would. He wants to go where Mama is. Wherever that is. He knows Kenny’ll just hit him again if he does.
He can’t stop cryin’, now, loud, gasping sobs, and he thinks Kenny’ll hit him anyway.
But Kenny just spits at him.
“God damn hopeless. Fuckin’ trash. Don’t wait up for me, you little shit. Makin’ me god damn question why I even bothered takin’ ya.”
He hears Kenny’s heavy footfalls across the floorboards. Hears the door open and slam shut behind him.
Levi’s fingers bury in his hair, tearing hard at it, pain burning through his scalp.
He wants his Mama.
He misses her so much.
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna’ do without her.
He doesn’t know what to do.
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eh fuck it one more episode :D
s4 ep6 Princess Scorpia
SCORPIA'S PARENTS and bb Scorpia and also that is a squishmallow if I ever saw one lolol
she sleeps in her uniform?!
oof, relatable
LOL I KNOW I JUST HEARD A WILHELM SCREAM
*rewinds it* I FUCKING DID!! LOLOL
I know this is Double Trouble and they are REALLY trying to start something
I mean actually that was you bb but okay
oh god Horde goes on this rant about how he has to be Victorious and Worthy when Horde Prime arrives and
Catra spent all this time clawing her way to the top (literally and figuratively) and I think it's MAYBE starting to sink in that she is not, in fact, anywhere near the top; and that Hordak is doing the exact same thing Catra's been doing--trying desperately to prove his worth to someone who doesn't give two shits about him
Either that or she's just (rightfully) a little scared of Horde Prime, and she hasn't even met him yet
Anyway Hordak is looking for Entrapta's recordings of her notes so he can work on his fancy weapon
Scorpia and Emily (the robot) do a cute little game and it reminds me so much of one me and Mal do ;_;
LOLOLOL
yeah I know I took this one just for my collection of "She-Ra's captions accidentally make it look like they're talking about sex"
sure bb you keep telling yourself that
Lonnie tries to point out to Scorpia that Catra doesn't give a shit about any of them and it's falling on closed ears
I keep meaning to point this out? But I just really like the way She-Ra looks from behind, with the huge hair and the cape and the wings of the tiara.
Also I know the whole point is that She-Ra is insanely strong even compared to Adora (who is plenty strong) but watching her do some of the physical shit she does without expending any visible effort is still o_O
Yeah Double Trouble's thing is working but also, why would Flutterina even BE on these missions? I have a feeling she (well, they; since that's actually Double Trouble) just kind of begged until they gave in?? But she's not actually helping at all?
Once again Bow is the only one here with any emotional intelligence
(But Adora's I'M FINE it's FINE is too relatable)
BUT Adora points out, Why is Glimmer okay being so friendly with Shadow Weaver "after everything she's done to us?"
Bow mediating their disagreement is making me edit a scene in my WIP lol (do you think Etheria has like, therapists the way we'd think of them? 🤔)
LOLLLLLL
Was digging around old stuff from a discord and found comments from a livestream from shortly after the show ended, and Nate headcanons that Scorpia took back the Fright Zone and her and Perfuma made it full of plant life again ;_;
Today in "things that are horrifying IRL that are played for laughs because it's a cartoon"
(like seriously how often has she been concussed when shit explodes)
Scorpia: "I'll bring the cocoa if you bring the tiny mugs"
Entrapta:
me: do I ship this????? 🤔 (yes I know friends also say this)
Poor Emily. The recordings can't be removed without dismantling her.
;_;
Emily just like "NO do not send me to the mean lady who lied about Entrapta!!" by showing the video of Catra being shitty and blaming Entrapta
ANYWAY Scorpia gets the chip out of Emily herself--but damages it in the process. And Catra is pISSED
Ugh these scenes hurt to watch, I think it's just too close to shit I've heard people say to me
YEAH SCORPIA, FUCKING TELL HER
OH IT DOESN'T FEEL GOOD DOES IT, CATRA?? DOES IT???
--and so she lies to protect Scorpia
Catra is saying this and gdi that old vine of "why you lyin', stop fuckin' lyin'" popped into my head
ANYWAY Catra's little speech to Hordak is like....are you trying to convince him or yoU
but also it's wild to watch her go from like, weirdly desperate
to Mean Bitch again
SERIOUSLY THO are you talking to him or yourself????
mmmmmdon't like that
oh ho the chip thing Scorpia gave Catra was fake anyway
yay they leave to go find Entrapta
Oh man tho this is such a huge thing for Scorpia. She's prided herself on her and her family's loyalty to the Horde for SO LONG. I also love that she doesn't give some long speech to Catra about the whole thing--just that "you're a bad friend," and then fucking LEAVING
And that's the end of the episode :D
Also that's ep 32 out of 52. Twenty left!
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Merry fuckin’ Christmas - Tommy Shelby
Warnings: strong words only
ANGS ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST
word count: 1k
author’s note: first one that i write 100% in english, i will be re-reading this one to correct any mistakes.
check out my masterlist
PART TWO OUT NOW
The ride back home from Polly´s was as silent as a graveyard. Y/N was so, so mad at Tommy that she could have killed him right there, right then. He had told Y/N that he was done with illegal business, saying that he had gotten a license.
“Are you sure that the coppers won´t come for us, Tom?” asked John, biting his toothpick nervously.
Tommy, John and Arthur were reuinited in a privet room in Polly’s house. It was Christmas’ eve, but for the Peaky Blinders it was just another night. While the Shelby women were catching up, the boys were talking about business. As if it was just another Monday at the betting shop.
“Y/N, could you please ask the boys to come? The food will be ready in just a few seconds...” said Ada, while folding the last napking.
Y/N nodded with a smile, she was lost in the beautiful green tree in Polly’s livingroom that could be seen from the Kitchen. She left the kitchen, passed the tree and after walking a few steps, a door was keeping her away from her husband and brothers-in-law. Before she could knock, she overheard Thomas talking to John.
“Yes, John boy. They won´t come for us. We do not have a license, but we do have their dirty little secrets.”
Y/N gasped, Thomas lied. Thomas has been lying to her for weeks now. She wanted to interrupt them, scream and break every single vessel in Polly’s house. But she would confront him in a more proper way. She breathed furiously. She closed her eyes and knocked on the door: “The food is ready, boys!” Her tone was as happy as always, so Tommy didn’t suspect a thing, She walked away before they could be out.
“Y/N...” started Tommy “Go on, say what you want to say.”
She looked at her hands, one being wrapped in a, now red, cloth. Y/N was waiting for them to arrive to Tommy’s house, she wanted to fight and then get away from him.
The dinner started calmly, the food was delicious but Y/N wasn’t even eating. The anger built up inside her, and was spreading with every beat of her heart. Only the Shelby boys were speaking, Tommy had a beautiful smile on his face and Arthur was cracking jokes with John, making every woman in the table laugh. Although Tommy saw Y/N’s face, he thought nothing of it.
The clock was about to welcome midnight, so everyone was dancing, a little tipsy and laughing.
“Ok, everyone!” shouted Arthur, with a champagne glass in his hand “Although this alcohol is fuckin’ disgusting, our beloved Polly likes it. So, let’s do a toast with this shitty drink!” he was shouting with excitement. Seeing Arthur smile was rare nowadays, but turns out champagne made him feel like a kid again.
“So, let’s do a toast to...er..the betting shop? Ye, the betting shop!” it seemed like it was his first time drinking alcohol “So we can keep on betting with the law on our side!”
Y/N’s glass was about to explote in her hand. She was looking at Thomas, who was also as happily drunk as his brother. He raised his glass in the air.
“To licenses and laws!” he laughed, only to be followed by John.
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Y/N screamed, both at Tommy and at her hand that was covered in blood.
Tommy came suddenly into all of his senses. In a matter of seconds, he dragged Y/N to the nearest bathroom, to clean her hand.
“Does it hurt?” “Do you feel any glass inside?” “Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“I’m okay, Thomas...” she tried to take her hand away from him, whithout looking at him.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, confused.
“Nothing, Thomas.”
“Oi,” his hand was in her chin, making her look at him “You can talk to me. You know that, ey?”
“You lied to me, Thomas.” she said, freeing herself from him “You lied to everyone in that room. I mean, you always lie to them. But you’ve been lyin’ to me too, Tommy”
The smile present seconds before on the Shelby was now nowhere to be found
“I want to go home.”
Tommy parked the car, and he swears he saw Y/N jumping out of it before it was even off.
“Y/N!” he screamed her name, entering the majestic house. He rushed upstairs, wanting to talk to her.
“Y/N, are you in there?” he knocked on the door, interrupting Y/N’s thoughts.
She left Tommy outside the room while she changed into her sleeping dress. The stockings and her shoes were thrown somewhere, not a caring in Y/N’s mind about them. She took her favourite pillow and left the room, surprising Tommy. Then, started to make her way into the guests bedrooms.
“Y/N...” Tommy started, Y/N didn’t stop. “Oh, c’mon, Y/N. Don’t be immature!” he continued. “You really want us to go to bed like this?” he added, sarcastically.
Y/N stopped walking. She turned around, so she could face him.
“So this is my fault? Me being angry at you is my fault?” she asked, not believing what just left Tommy’s mouth.
“Not a hundred percent, but yes. I...”
“You lied to me!” she yelled.
“Don’t yell, Y/N! The maids will hear...”
“Then let them fucking listen, Thomas.”
Both of their bodies were building up fire inside.
“I told you that i’d gotten the license, because you...”
“I was worried sick! I still am! Now, I’m even more worried because you go around, playing with people’s secrets!”
“Y/N, the world is dark place, so you have to...” Y/N laughed.
“A dark place? Thomas, come on. Your world is a dark place. You go around killing people!”
“Oh, you are right. I’m an idiot. I forgot i got married with a princess. I’m sorry, m’ Lady. i will try and...”
“You are an arsehole, Thomas Shelby. And i hate your lying, i hate your sadistic life, and your dark world. But overall...”
“Then fuckin’ leave, m’ Lady!” he yelled.
“Stop calling me that, Thomas!” Y/N yelled back. She threw the pillow in the floor, frustrated.
“You miss your world? Ey? Do you miss that fuckin’ world, with diamonds, and good bloody wine and good fuckin’ people, ey? Do you miss that?” No one could stop Thomas’ screams, not even God could.
“I sometimes wish we weren’t married! Because i find myself in the disgusting, dark and cruel world that you built! Not only for yourself, but for everyone around you.”
“Ok then. Merry fuckin’ Christmas Y/N, you are free from the beast!” Tommy said, angrily. When he got into his room, he closed the door so hard that Y/N thought it would fall, making a mess and waking everyone in England up.
But the house stayed quiet the whole night.
PART TWO
#arthur shelby#thomas shelby#arthur shelby imagine#thomas shelby fic#the peaky blinders#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby angst#michael gray#michael gray fanfiction#michael gray blurb#birmingham#finn shelby#finn shelby imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#finn shelby x reader#finn cole#finn cole imagine#peaky fucking blinders#john shelby#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#john shelby imagine#ada shelby#headcanon#joe cole#peaky blinders x reader#polly gray
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Honesty
Characters: Goro Majima x Reader X Daigo Dojima
Warnings: Cheating, dubious consent (drunk), fighting (couple), mentions of sex (no smut), strong language, toxic relationship
Inspiration: “Honest” by The Chainsmokers; “2” by H.E.R.; “Story to Tell Your Friends” by Every Avenue
A/n: I don’t have anything to say that hasn’t been said already.
You slid out of bed, taking a moment to look over your shoulder at the naked man sleeping next to you. As wrong as it was, your thoughts were with someone else. It hurt knowing he wasn’t with you tonight, and it was likely he was in someone else’s bed, too. You almost couldn’t help but laugh at the fucked-up mess your once sweet relationship had grown into. Neither of you knew where the other was, and you weren’t sure either of you really cared anymore.
Your steps were soft as you walked around the hardwood-floored room, gathering your clothing and dressing as quietly as possible. Memories of screaming Daigo’s name echoed through your mind. The arrangement between you and the sleeping man was one neatly arranged. You’d have sex, hang out till he slept, and then leave. In return, he took you to nice restaurants and on nice dates, buying you everything you could possibly want, and gifting more money to you than you could ever spend. Majima still paid your bills, otherwise this man likely would do that, too. It was an arrangement that suited everyone else just fine, even though everyone complained about it.
You took your phone off the dresser near the bedroom’s door, checking it for any messages from your boyfriend, but there was none. Of course there wasn’t. Why would you think anything else? You hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks, why would that change? Goro had told you to call off your relationship with Daigo long ago, but you never did. How many times had Goro cheated on you before you got with Daigo? And how many times had he cheated after telling you to call it off? Too many, on both accounts.
Okay, so maybe having your boyfriend’s boss as your Sugar Daddy wasn’t the best idea, but you didn’t care at this point. There were so many times that you had thought about just breaking up with Majima for Dojima, but you knew better than to think you and Majima would ever let the other go. This was too toxic a relationship for that. You knew he’d kill anyone you tried to be with after him, even his boss, and you knew that you would be crawling after him, begging him to take you back if he ever left you. You knew this because both had already happened. Multiple times.
You ran your fingers through your hair in an effort to get your post-sex bedhead under control. It was, naturally, a futile effort, but still an effort worth making as you prepared to leave your Sugar Daddy’s secret apartment. It didn’t take long to have everything packed up into your purse before leaving, quietly closing the door behind you and locking it with your key. In the hall you started humming to yourself, checking your phone again.
Why you kept checking it was beyond you, but you still did. You guess part of you just wanted him to miss you. To want you. To do something. He wouldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t because he never did.
You hailed a cab, hopping in and returning home.
~~~
Majima sat in the back of a private car, playing on his phone while some drunk hostesses sat on either side of him. He looked up at the clock and sighed. It was 5 am and all he wanted was to go home. All he wanted was to hold you. The thought to text you and ask you to come home was one not easily dismissed.
“Majima~” one of the girls called, grabbing his arm and pouting. “Why are you on your phone? Pay attention to us~”
“Whatever ya want, ladies,” Majima said as he smiled, sliding the phone back in his pocket and resting his arms on the back of the seats. The girls leaned into him, giggling as they traced their fingers over his tattoos like you had when things were still good. Those times were some that he longed to return to, but that was no longer an option. The two of you had made your bed, and the two of you had to lie in it.
The girls kissed him wherever they could. One focused on his neck, the other turned his head towards her and kissed his lips, her hand reaching over to get tangled up in his hair. She was giggling into the kiss, drunk as shit. He was drunk, too, so he didn’t care. All he wanted to do right now was forget about you. If these two women wanted to give it a shot, he wouldn’t stop them.
The driver left them outside of a love hotel, leaving to find a place to park as the trio stumbled inside.
~~~
When you arrived home, you came home to Majima sitting at the dinner table of your small apartment, taking a drag off of a cigarette. Why he was there was beyond you, but you reminded yourself to get his key before you broke up with him. If you ever broke up with him. It wasn’t likely, but still something you hoped to do someday.
“You’re home awfully late,” Majima acknowledged, sighing but not looking at you.
“I was out with a friend, sorry. I didn’t think you were coming over. You haven’t talked to me in weeks, so…”
“Don’t gimme that shit, Y/n.” Another drag. “You with Daigo again?”
“You told me to call it off, so I did. I haven’t seen Daigo since we called it off.” It was a statement you both knew was a lie. You didn’t really have friends, at least none that you would be out until 8 am with.
“Why d’ya always insist on lyin’ to me?” Majima’s face and tone were deadpan. “Ya know how much it hurts me, Y/n.”
“Does it?” You were growing frustrated. “Does it hurt you to stick your dick in every pussy in town? Does it hurt you to disappear for weeks at a time? Does it—”
“If you don’ shut the FUCK up…” Majima’s voice trailed off as he took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling as he spoke, “The people that make accusations like that are cheatin’ shits.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” You hissed. “I can’t deal with this, get out of my apartment.”
Majima calmly put his cigarette, turning to look at you. “Why would I do that, Darlin’? I’ve missed ya. No one makes ya scream like I do. No one screams my name like you. Baby girl, don’t make me spell it out for ya,” he sighed standing up and walking over. “C’mere,” he stuck his arms out to hug you, stopping as he caught your scent. “You reek of sex.” The coldness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. “Fuckin’ LIAR!” He shouted, turning away from you, kicking the chair so hard that it groaned against the floor as it slid, nearly falling over before it hit the table leg with loud thud.
“Look who’s fucking talking!” You called back, hands raised in frustration. “Why are we even doing this anymore when we both clearly don’t want this toxic ass relationship?! Let’s just end it and be free of each other! There’s no reason we have to live like this!”
“I LOVE YOU!” Majima screamed, followed by a, “FUCK!” He kicked the table, knocking the ashtray onto the floor, ash spreading everywhere. Thankfully, the ashtray was a sturdy plastic, so it didn’t break.
“REALLY?!” You shouted in response, walking over to him. “YOU CALL THIS LOVE?!”
He put his hand around your throat and kissed you. “I love ya,” Majima muttered, his lips hovering over yours, “but ya have to knock this shit off. All it does is piss me off, and when I’m pissed off, I lash out.” His lips pressed against yours and he pinned you to the wall, still holding your throat.
You hated how much you wanted this, and how easy it was for him to get your body purring for him. The kissing grew more intense, and before you knew it his shirt was off and so was yours. He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around him before carrying you to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed carelessly before undoing his belt.
~~~
“I have to be honest…” Hesitation. “I can’t do this anymore,” You say quietly as you stare at your breakfast, unable to eat.
“Sure ya can, Darlin’. Ain’t no reason to worry your pretty little head about,” Majima assured.
“I’m not an idiot, Goro.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “We’ve both been cheating. I can’t live like this, constantly wondering why I’m not good enough, finding security and validation in people outside of our relationship while you chase bugs around town. I can’t live with the anxiety anymore…” You paused before continuing, “I’m tired, Goro. Let’s just call it quits and move on, okay?”
“Are you serious?” His voice was soft, fake accent gone, as he looked at you, searching your eyes for any hint that this wasn’t happening.
“I am. I need this to be the last time we call it quits, and for you to not kill the people that I date. A clean break for both of us after years of pain. Can you do that? For me?” You looked back at your breakfast. “We had something so good when this started but look at what it’s turned into. We can’t keep living like this, Goro.”
“You’re right,” he said as his gaze shifted to his own breakfast. “I’m too old to be playing these games, Y/n. We should just… Move on.”
“Exactly. I always wanted a family, Majima. I want to try and find that for myself.” You didn’t mention how you had thought you found that with him before things turned into the poisonous disease your relationship had degraded into. “I want that for you, too. You’ll find someone else, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, standing up. “I… I’m going to leave. No sense in waiting for the inevitable.”
You looked up at him, seeing the vacant expression you’d seen a hundred times when he was lost in his own mind. Your heart broke to see him like this, but you knew this was for the best. You bit your cheek, resisting the urge to stop him. You needed to let him go. You didn’t have the choice if you wanted to start over with someone new. You watched as he worked the key to your apartment off of his keyring.
“I’ll pay your apartment for three more months. After that the lease is up and you can sign a fresh lease. You won’t hear from me anymore, and I hope you won’t contact me either.
Still, it was strange that he was going so quietly. It made you uneasy as you watched him leave, though you were speechless. If you spoke it would only be to beg for forgiveness and start this endless cycle all over again.
He opened the door and looked back at you, nothing but pure sadness in his eye as he watched you. After a moment he closed the door. The second it closed you started to sob. As toxic as the two of you were together, you both truly loved each other deep down. This wasn’t romantic, this was tragic.
Together you were as toxic and violent to each other as Harley and Joker; breaking up was as painful as the ending of Titanic.
~~~
“Daigo?” You asked quietly, looking at the man lying next to you as you sat on the bed.
“What?” He asked, looking back at you.
“What are we doing?” You looked around the bedroom of the apartment.
“The same thing we’ve been doing for over a year… Why?” He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, and the look on his made you worried about his reaction.
“I know the arrangement is that we don’t date, but I’ve been thinking…” A deep breath for courage. “Why don’t we date? We’re basically dating already.”
Daigo sat up, leaning over to grab his pack of cigarettes. “Because that’s the stipulation you put on this relationship. Majima and whatever. I like it, to be honest. ”
“It’s been over a month since Maijma and I called it off, and he’s been respecting the deal we made. I know you’ve had me followed,” you studied the pattern of the bedding, running your finger over it as you traced the patterns. He lit the cigarette and took the first draw as you spoke.
“It’s not because I don’t trust you—”
“I wouldn’t be mad at you if you didn’t, given my history with Majima, but I know it’s just for my protection,” you looked at him, seeing his cigarette between his lips as he took a drag. “Still, it proves to you that I’m not fucking around behind your back. I know we’re not in love or anything, and I’m not expecting anything serious. Still, I think we should give it a shot.”
“I don’t know, Y/n. What we have now is transactional. You provide me companionship; I provide money. No feelings; no attachments; no hurt when it’s over.”
“That’s true,” your gaze returned to the bedding and you traced the pattern again. “I think we could be good together. You mentioned that people are pressuring you to get married, and that something I want—”
“It’s way too soon to talk about marriage when we aren’t even dating, Y/n.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. We could give this a serious shot, maybe that would be in our future. Even if we kept it transactional, no emotions involved, it would save us the issue of finding a partner. I’d have the family I always wanted, and you’d have the wife you’re being pressured to find. We can date first, see if we’re a good fit, and go from there.” You weren’t sure if you’d done a good enough job explaining what you meant, but it would have to do, and Daigo looked like he was seriously considering the offer. “Like I said, if there’s no actual spark but we’re comfortable with the arrangement, what’s the harm?”
“You told me once you wanted a husband you loved and that loved you in return.”
“Well, time is running out on that. It’s more important to me to have a child than to have love in a relationship. I want a child in a marriage. Nothing wrong with being a single parent, it’s just not what I want.” You watched as Daigo flicked his ashes into the bedside ashtray.
“Alright. No sense in not giving it a try.”
#Yakuza#Goro majima#Majima#Goro Majima x reader#Majima x reader#Daigo#daigo dojima#daigo x reader#daigo dogma x reader
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OC-tober Day 1: Journey
Thanks so much to @oc-growth-and-development for the awesome prompt list! This one... kind of got away from me lol
-
In Scout's opinion, it was too fucking early. Too early to be steered through JFK by Officer Harding, too early to be patted down for a third time, too early to endure the withering stares of parents when he dared to smile at their kids. He kept quiet, counting down the minutes until he could go back to sleep.
Lucky for him, being a juvenile offender meant that he got to board the plane before everybody else. He had just gotten settled in his seat when Harding pulled out a pair of handcuffs. As he fastened one cuff to the seat, Scout broke his drowsy silence.
"You gotta be kiddin' me."
"Rules are rules," Harding said, putting the other cuff on Scout's wrist. "And you're a runner."
"The hell am I gonna run to? The fuckin' clouds?" Harding didn't dignify that with an answer. Scout slumped in his seat as well as he could with the stupid handcuff on. "This is bullshit. Got me chained to my seat like some kinda -"
"Criminal?" Harding filled in, raising his eyebrows.
He rolled his eyes and turned towards the window. Fat chance he had of getting any sleep now.
-
Scout shouldn't have underestimated his ability to sleep almost anywhere. He fell asleep shortly after takeoff and must have been out for at least a couple hours, because as he blinked awake he realized with a jolt that his thumb was in his mouth. He pulled it out lightning-quick and glanced sideways to see if Harding had seen.
The probation officer was looking at a book without moving his eyes, which told Scout that he had definitely been watching up until a moment ago. Scout's face burned as he subtly wiped his thumb on his jacket.
He cleared his throat, and Harding pretended to notice him. "This plane got a bathroom?"
Of course, he wasn't allowed to go by himself. In fact, when he tried to shut the door, Harding stopped it with a hand.
Scout stared in disbelief. "Hey, do you mind?"
Harding didn't remove his hand. "I'll close it most of the way, but you're not locking it."
Scout let out an annoyed huff. "Yeah, 'cause I'm gonna get into so much trouble in a two-by-three john," he grumbled.
As soon as he was back in his seat, it was back on with the handcuff. Harding tightened it until it bit into Scout's skin, and then stopped a passing flight attendant.
"Could you sit with him while I step away for a minute?" he asked her, in a low tone that Scout still overheard. "He's not dangerous, he just needs supervision. Just for a minute."
The flight attendant blinked in surprise. She was young, and kind of pretty - at least compared to the lady who'd been by at the beginning of the flight. "Oh! Um..." She shot a wary glance in Scout's direction, but nonetheless answered, "Of course, sir."
Scout waited until Harding was out of sight before he said, "Y'know, he's lyin'. Accordin' to the state of New York I'm a violent offender."
She didn't look too pleased about that, although it didn't seem to have the shock value Scout had been hoping for. "Is that so?"
"Uh-huh. Busted into a store, had a knife.'' When he still didn't get a reaction, he dropped the tough-guy act and admitted, "I wasn't gonna do nothin' with it, I just had it. When you're a kid on the street you gotta have somethin' to deal with creeps."
Her expression softened at those words. "Oh. And why were you... busting into a store?"
"For food. Gotta eat, y'know? Just enough for 'til some cash turned up." Her face shifted from sympathetic to downright pitying. Ugh. Scout quickly switched tracks.
"Anyway, that guy with me, Harding? He's a real piece of work. Acts like I'm gonna weasel out the window when he ain't lookin'!" That got a smile, and Scout grinned in return. "Yeah, just a real hardass. Wouldn't even lemme ask for more pretzels," he invented.
He could see the thought forming in her head: 'I better get this poor kid some snacks'. Hell yeah.
Harding was coming back down the aisle. "Thank you," he said to the flight attendant as he sat. "I hope he didn't give you any trouble."
"Who, me?" Scout piped in. "Why would I give trouble to such a nice lady?" He pulled his sweetest, most charming smile.
Harding looked unimpressed, but the flight attendant smiled back fondly. "He was fine."
"Good. Thanks again."
"Of course! Enjoy the rest of the flight."
"You too," Scout called as she walked away. Harding was still watching him suspiciously. "What? You heard her, I didn't do nothin'!"
"Hmmm." He didn't seem convinced, but he turned his attention back to his book.
When the pretty flight attendant returned later with two bags of crackers and a tiny chocolate bar, Scout made sure to look innocent.
-
"How long do we gotta drive for?"
"A long time," Harding answered, not looking away from the road.
Scout sighed and crossed his arms. It already felt like he'd been in the car forever. "Why didn't we get off at a closer airport?"
"That was the closest airport. There aren't a lot of them out here."
"That's dumb." He looked out the window at the monotonous view of trees, his leg bouncing incessantly. "So after we get there you gotta go all the way back, huh?"
"Yes."
Scout grinned. "Damn. Some weekend." He chewed his nails for a bit and then reached for the radio dial, skipping through the stations until he found something fast and percussive. He turned the volume up, looked over to gauge Harding's reaction, and then turned it up some more.
Harding endured two and a half songs' worth of Scout drumming his fingers against the dashboard before he shut the radio off. "Hey!" Scout protested.
"You're giving me a headache."
"Well, I'm bored!" he complained. "I been sittin' and doin' nothin' all goddamn day, why can't I listen to some music while I'm trapped in here?"
"Because I'm trapped in here, too," Harding muttered. Scout huffed. "Why don't you sleep some more, if you're so bored?"
"Not tired." He wouldn't have slept even if he was tired. He wasn't about to risk sucking his thumb in front of Harding twice in the same day.
"Then read the car manual."
"Ha-ha, good one."
"You could learn something useful," Harding said, as if he was serious about it. "Impress the other kids."
"I don't like readin'."
"Is that why you refused to go to class at the detention center?"
They told him about that? Scout shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "No," he lied. "Just didn't feel like goin'."
Harding was silent. Scout was sure he didn't believe him. Finally he said, "Well, you can't skip classes at the new school. If I hear you've been misbehaving then I'll have to report it."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it." He chewed his nails some more. "Hey, you got any gum?"
Harding frowned. "Gum?"
"Y'know, the stuff you chew? Comes in lots of flavors?"
"No, I don't have any gum."
"Well, can we stop and get some?" Harding almost laughed at that. "C'mon, I'm goin' crazy! I'm gonna bite all my nails off!"
"You don't need gum."
"Sure I do," Scout said earnestly, quickly concocting a story. "I just quit cigs and I gotta have gum to scratch the itch."
"Oh, really?" Harding didn't sound the least bit convinced.
"Yeah, really. Been smokin' since I was seven, just gave it up a few weeks back. If I don't have gum I'll start again."
"You didn't have gum at the center," Harding pointed out.
"Yeah, an' wouldn't you know it, I been dyin' for a smoke. You don't want me to start smokin' again, do you?"
"I'm pretty sure students aren't allowed to have cigarettes on school grounds."
"Well, ain't you s'posed to make sure I'm bein' a good kid or whatever? If you get me some gum, it'll be easier to follow the rules!"
Harding sighed. "We're not stopping for gum."
It was too late for assertions like that. Scout had a mission now, and he was an expert at being annoying. He complained and argued and whined until - after nearly an hour - Harding stopped at a gas station.
"Hey, long as we're here, why don't you get me some gum?" Scout asked as they pulled up to the pump. "Please?"
Harding didn't answer - he'd long since stopped acknowledging Scout's repeated request. He took out the handcuffs again. This time Scout was stuck with his arm hanging awkwardly above his head, with the other cuff around the passenger seat grab handle.
"This sucks," he said. Harding slammed the door shut.
After he filled the tank, he went into the gas station. Had Scout actually irritated him to the breaking point? He didn't want to get his hopes up - but when Harding got back in the car, he tossed a little green package onto Scout's lap.
Scout all but cheered. "Aw, thanks!"
"Don't mention it," Harding said flatly, reaching over to unlock the handcuffs.
As they got back on the road, Scout unwrapped a stick of gum. He chewed silently for a few minutes, and then announced, "This gum is terrible."
Harding looked like he was considering crashing the car.
#oc-tober#asher writes stuff#scout lester#i know it's really long i just. sihskdjdkfl i had lots of ideas#this is the human au scout i alluded to a while back
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Curiosity.
(Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Black!fem reader)
Just over 2,000 words!
Prompt: The main idea is that you are trying to understand the real reason why ya boi Erik won't have sex with your fine ass. Intended for my thicc/chubby/plus sized black lady readers 😚💕.
A/N: In all honesty, I don't know why this scenario popped up in my head. It's questionable how you guys will receive it. If you guys don't like it, oh well! My mind works in weird ways🤷🏽♀️
Warning: slight angst, self-body shaming, cussing, teasing, and KINDA SMUT (it'll be my first time y'all, bare with me) 😬
____________________________________________________________________
You were fed up.
You had been dating Erik for a while and thought everything was great. He was rough around the edges, but overall he was a good boyfriend. Loyal, mostly sweet and playful. Maybe not husband material, but he was who you wanted in your life right now. Every aspect of your relationship was positive...except for one part.
You hadn't went all the way with him– sexually speaking.
You had amazing chemistry as a couple and you knew that sex with him would be mind-blowing.
You were supportive of people waiting until the right person or until marriage, but that wasn't you. You desired sex and with Erik. You were patient up until this point, but needed real answers. So you decided to ask him.
"Baby, I've been wondering..." You trailed off, chopping up some peppers for the meal you were preparing.
"Huh?" He answered, walking into the kitchen and going straight to your fridge for a drink.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he only wore black sweatpants that hung at his hips to subtly show his v-line and the gold chain with his late father's ring hanging around his neck. His built torso and scars exposed to the cool air. They were something to get used to, although, they were interesting and felt strangely soothing when you two cuddled.
You'd never seen any type of keloid show up on someone's body simply due to killing someone. You had only heard of such thing labeled as tribal scarification in African History as a means to distinguish African warriors.
It alarmed you when Erik had told you on one of your first dates since you kept glancing at them. You should have ended the date there, but you went against your gut and carried on dating Erik.
It seemed to make an impression on him that you stuck around.
You opened your mouth to finish your question, but he stopped you before you could start.
"Hol' up." He said as he opened a Gatorade, taking a long sip.
Clearly, he had made himself at home at your place, leaving clothes and miscellaneous items around the apartment. It warmed your heart to know he was so comfortable with you, but that didn't explain why he wasn't comfortable having sex with you.
He finished his sip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay, wassup?" He asked, placing his bottle back in the fridge.
"Why can't you–" You cut yourself off and sighed, suddenly getting discouraged.
"Nevermind...it's stupid. "
"Nah, what's wrong?" He pried, immediately coming up to hug you from behind.
"I just want to understand. Why won't you make love to me?" You questioned, cutting the vegetables slower. He took a deep breath and sighed, seeming hesitant to answer.
"Why you askin'? " He nuzzled your neck for reassurance, but it wasn't working.
You stopped prepping the food and put down the knife. You turned your soft body to completely face him. You could feel the back of your eyes starting to burn as tears welling up. Maybe he didn't want to be completely intimate because a part of you disgusted him. You weren't as slim like the Instagram models he probably follows.
"I'm not skinny. I don't wear 00 pants. I don't have a thigh gap. I don't have a 26 inch waist. I have fucking stretch marks and a belly. Is that why you won't have sex with me?" He responded by his right hand going down to your hip, softly gripping it in minor irritation.
He searched your face for sincerity and to his surprise, you were serious.
"Baby, listen. You're fuckin' gorgeous. Beyond beautiful, inside and out. Your beauty is one reason it's hard for me to stay away and keep my hands off you. Off this especially..." He trailed off, kissing the corner of your mouth as his left hand rubbed your backside before giving it a light smack.
"I always wanna feel you in some way. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't want to see you bouncin' on my dick though."
You chuckled and felt at ease slightly, but you needed more of an answer.
"But WHY can't you act on those feelings? Answer that question for me." You asked, more firmly.
A scoff left his mouth just as fast as his touch. The air conditioning immediately made you miss his warm body as air breezed through your lavender silk robe.
"Why the fuck does it matter?" He mumbled before walking into your living room.
You heard him flop on the couch and turn up the volume on your television. He was done.
But the conversation wasn't over as far as you were concerned. How dare he dismiss you like what you had to say was unimportant. Fuck that. You needed to make sure he understood you.
You marched into the room and stood in front of him to snatch the remote from his grasp.
"Hey! I was watchin' that!" You turned the TV off and threw your remote in the opposite chair, across from the sofa.
Before anything else was said, Erik stood up. Glowering down at you. Challenging you while trying to silently understand what the hell was your problem.
"Y/N, what the hell wrong with you?!" He yelled, frustrated.
"You are what's wrong with me! You're not listening." You bit back, pointing at his chest and pushing his chest to make him flop back on the couch.
You didn't give a damn if he was mad. He would be alright.
"Just tell me why and I'll leave you alone." You pleaded angrily, crossing your arms under your silk covered chest.
That simple action caused Erik to glance at your breasts. The silk made them look more pronounced, fuller. Not to mention, your nipples were hard under the fabric.
You didn't really care, but you cared that Erik noticed it.
He only responded how any young man would...licking his lips like a hungry predator watching his unsuspecting prey.
He grinned slyly at you. Knowing the game you were playing.
"It's complicated. I wanna do so many things to you..." He admitted, sitting up straight on the couch.
"Nigga, isn't that a part of sex? I'm not seeing the problem." You sassed, rolling your eyes dramatically.
"It is, but the one thing I want to do to you is kinda wild."
"That's what I want. The sensible you. The wild you. I just want all of you." Your hands met the small ridged marks on his chest as you pushed him to sit back. You lifted your legs slowly, one by one, to straddle him.
"Please, Erik." You begged, adjusting your hips to settle on his fabric-covered dick. Your fingers went down to the hem of his sweats, playing with the white drawstring.
His chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened. His hands brushed your plush thighs before cupping each ass cheek of yours. You rocked your hips slowly as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. He returned the kiss and was eager to use tongue. You quickly allowed, earning a few groans from him as your kisses became heated.
After a few moments, he pulled away. You whimpered, wanting his tongue back in your mouth.
"I'm crazy as shit, Y/N. That's the reason." He breathily said as his dilated eyes met yours.
"So am I–"
"Not my type of crazy..." He ominously grinned before leaning in to leave soft-lipped pecks at your jaw. You smiled, entertained by the idea of what could be his crazy, unorthodox way of thinking. You were curious.
"Well, what is your crazy then?" You sensually questioned, going back to play with the drawstring of his sweats.
"So many damn questions..." He chuckled darkly and gripped you tighter. His hands slowly dug into your supple ass, pushing you into him more. More onto his hard-on.
He wanted to keep you right there.
You moaned in response to the increasing pain and without much thought, wound your hips for friction. Your arms went around his neck for support and he shifted his hips to satisfy your growing need.
"Do you get strange urges like I do?" His deeper, lust-coated voice took you by surprise. You felt yourself becoming wet at his tone and opened your mouth to answer, but bit your lip instead to keep quiet as he spoke.
"Like right now, I want you tremblin' under me, my hand 'round your throat, squeezing just enough as I fuck you senseless." He proclaimed, your bottom lip coming between his teeth as he lightly tugged before letting go.
"Maybe I'll get another scar this time." A mischievous gaze met your curious eyes. Scars?
"Erik...I thought you only got those scars if- if-"
"You think all these scars are from just killin' people? Oh babygirl, some of these are from killin' pussy too."
A rush of heat surged through you, making you feel weak and strong all at once. Those words. His words did something and ignited a fiery passion within you.
"Well, do it then..." You provoked as you bucked your hips once more. He took that as a command and hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you off of him to playfully throw you onto your couch.
You sunk into the soft cushions and adjusted so your head was on the armrest, your body now across the sofa. A devious smile crept onto your face as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. After all this time, your man was going to beat your pussy up.
Finally.
"You got me losing my got-damn mind over you."
He turned to climb over top of you to open your legs up and come in-between them. He undid the ribbon of your robe and pulled back the fabric, revealing your unclad chest. Your nipples hard from the palpable sexual tension and exposed air. The only undergarment you had on was your matching silk panties.
Those would soon be gone.
Erik scanned over your body, taking in every bump, curve and stretch mark. He loved every inch of you.
"So beautiful..damn.." he whispered, more so to himself.
It was like he didn't know where to start. His mind most likely running frantic, almost like a child figuring out a new, complex toy.
You looked at him the same. Your smooth hands massaged his forearms, feeling the peaked scars. It was a perfect contrast, much like you and him.
"I don't think ya ass prepared for what I'm 'bout to give you." He cockily spoke before kissing your lower abdomen. His thumb fell to your clothed clit to check how wet you were for him, making you groan in anticipation.
He leaned down to your belly button, tracing the ring of your belly button with his tongue before dipping into it once. You closed your eyes in bliss at the fascinating feeling. He thumbed your clit again, causing you to tense up in pleasure. Instinctively, your legs began to close around him, but he grasped your thick thighs.
"Keep ya fuckin' legs open." His voice rang through your ears in a growled demand.
"Yes, d–" Your breath hitched as his cool lips trailed up your waist to the valley of your breasts. You closed your eyes and melted under his touch, his fingers hooking the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your hips for him to yank down your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor.
Fondling your breasts, you pinched your bottom lip in the middle of your teeth as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. You needed him.
He mentally absorbed the sight of you. It only inflated his ever-growing ego as his deviant grin showing two gold canines gleamed back at you.
"Allat behavior. Ain't nobody teach you no decency?" He teased as he scooted down, getting better access to your now aching core. You shook your head 'no' at his question.
"Well that's too bad. I'mma have to teach you how to behave..." He tsked. You couldn't react as he wasted no time taking you in his mouth, not giving a fuck if you were ready or not.
-------------------------
And I oop 👀...
(Send me requests too via my asks!) -> if you want
#erik can get it idgaf#erik killmonger x black reader#erik killmonger smut#erik killmonger imagine#erik killmonger x plus size reader#erik killmonger x plussize!reader
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FFT: May You Always Be Satisfied
Ahhh, so.. This is the third part to these two asks [ here ] and [ here ] and after this, there’s at least one more part. We’re still moderately angsty here, folks. Maybe the last part will be better? Let’s all just like.. hope or some shit.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE. AND THE HELP IN REALIZING WHAT THIS IDEA COULD ACTUALLY ADD UP TO. HUGE HUGS FRIEND.
Tag Squad:
@kyleoreillysknee @rampagewriting @writertoo18 @thatnerdwriter @wrestlingismyguiltypleasure @chasingeverybreakingwave @unabashedwrestlefics @wardl0w @missjenniferb @adampage @cabotcoves @cowboyshit @dietwrestling
[ tag list doc ] [ masterlist ] [ keep ‘em coming - they’re super fun ]
“ I mean, he looks happy. That’s all I want for him. What was I supposed to do? Throw myself on the floor, grab his ankles and tearfully beg him to stay?” I half questioned, offering a shrug to my neighbor Cordelia as she poured us both more wine. The television set was stopped on AEW in the background and even though I know I should’ve changed the channel when I heard his theme hit, somehow I just.. Couldn’t.
It was the first time I’d seen him in a little over 3 months now. And seeing him slink down the ramp was like ripping a bandage off a healing wound only to have that bandage catch halfway and bring up scar tissue with it.
I may be fooling everyone else at this point. I may seem as if I’m doing fine but deep down? Completely the opposite. In reality, I’m a breath away from breaking down at any second. There’s just so much shit I haven’t really… Dealt with.
I’ve just been ignoring it. He made his choice. I didn’t try to fight harder. I just let him go because I didn’t want to settle for being someone’s silver.
“You realize you’re not hiding just how bad you’re taking this, right?” Cordelia’s statement had me glancing at her as I shrugged and sipped the red wine in my glass. At first, I tried to argue back and insist I was, but instead, my shoulders dropped and I sighed.
“It’s the only option I have. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who said things weren’t working between us.”
Cordelia eyed me and sipped her own wine, going quiet for a few minutes. Then she spoke up again. “Which totally does not track with the man I met at that barbecue he came to with you. He looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky and told the stars to shine. It just doesn’t make any sense, that’s all I’m saying.”
My fingers curled over the edge of the kitchen island between us and I finished off my glass, reaching across the island for the bottle. She held it out of my reach and eyed me. I pouted at her.
“All I’m saying here, Veronica.. It’s entirely possible that that pushy asshole he’s friends with had something to do with this.”
“That makes no sense. Adam can think for himself.”
“But maybe he’s gotten so used to going along with what everyone else pushes him to think and do that he’s forgotten how. Maybe the guy said something and Adam took it to an extreme. C’mon, you’ve said yourself that you didn’t like the way the guy constantly tried to undermine and ignore Adam.”
“Yeah, well if that’s the case, then I can’t be with him either. So either way, this is still an unsolvable dilemma. I’m not going to settle for being someone’s second choice. And I’m not going to sit back quietly and watch someone I love let himself be held back by so called friends who think they know best, either. We’re at an impasse.” I frowned to myself and picked up the remote, turning off the television, which only earned me a pout from Cordelia.
“What?” I shrugged off her pout and took a few more sips of my wine as I scrolled Instagram.
“I was watching that, ma’am. For my own scientific research.”
I snorted in laughter at what she said and looked up. “Does his name happen to be Wardlow?”
“ Hey, I can’t help it I have amazing taste.”
“Yeah, no. The verdict is still out there, Cordy.” I teased gently, sighing to myself as soon as I saw a post from Adam’s instagram story. I let myself linger on it a little bit. I tried to just.. Remain neutral.
But I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I closed out of the app hurriedly, plasting the best fake smile on that I could as I looked up at her. “Either way, I’m going to be fine. I’m handling it.”
“Woman, you are ignoring the hell out of this. You loved him. Now stop being stubborn and at least allow yourself to own up to that.”
“You’re not gonna charge me for the therapy session, right doc?” I joked and she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she shook her head.
“What I will do is insist that if you’re just hell bent on denying, you wipe your life of all traces that he was involved in it. Otherwise, you’re never going to not be miserable.”
“Already done. Do you see any pictures of us around here anymore?” I swept my arms wide, gesturing to my small apartment. Cordelia looked around and then shook her head, giving me one of her wise old lady looks. “You can get rid of the pictures, change the bedsheets, change your hair color and toss out all his old shirts he left behind… But you can’t make yourself forget him. Take it from me… You need to actually deal with this. And stop serial dating on Tinder. That’s where the serial killers all hide.”
“Bye, Cordie.” I chirped, laughing to myself as I shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a deep breath as my eyes wandered my apartment.
Okay, so maybe she’s right. Maybe I can’t totally forget him, but… I’m going to have to find some way to stop letting little moments of doubt where I want to reach out creep in. Because he ended things with me. He’s the one who couldn’t get over an ex girlfriend. I wasn’t ever going to be enough for him.
And yet, even as I stood there, thinking about it all, I still found myself wondering… What if I was completely wrong?
“I have got to just get over this.” I grumbled to myself as I made my way to bed, falling face first into it.
--
“You do realize that Matt’s just the kind of jackass who stirs shit up, right man?” Mox spoke up from beside me, sitting down the glass of bourbon he’d been nursing most of the night. I shrugged and sighed, barely managing to keep my jaw unclenched.
He wasn’t exactly telling me something I wasn’t aware of… Didn’t mean I fucking wanted to hear it. I knew Matt was stirring the pot when he told me he’d run into Veronica again. The sumbitch was full on shit eating grin as he told me that he heard it going around that she’s been on a different date every night for the past few weeks now.
And damn it, despite trying my best not to let it get in my head, it got in my head and it got in deep.
“He really told ya girl about the ex?” Mox shook his head, letting out a low whistle as he followed up, “What’d he say?”
“Probably what I let slip about wondering if I was still in love with her.”
“Goddamn. Page, you’re too fuckin nice for your own good. If it were me?” Mox pointed to himself and took a sip from the glass, “I’d have beaten his ass all over the place.”
“ Why bother? He had a point and he wasn’t lyin. I honestly thought I might be in love with my ex at the time. She’d come back, she was callin and texting me all the time again. Got me thinkin about how much we did go through together… Missin her a little.”
“And now, dumb fucker?”
I glared at him before answering. “Now I just feel empty. And it hurts like hell because she didn’t even put up a fight when I broke things off between us. Hell, I’m disgusted with myself now, actually. I let everybody else dictate what I did with my own life… Again.”
“Yeah, that’s a habit of yours, man. Not a good one either. What you gotta do is say fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all. If you wanna fix this? It’s on you to fix. She shouldn’t have had to beg ya not to end things. If ya even thought for a second ya were about to fuck up, maybe ya shouldn’t have ended shit.” Mox grumbled, glancing up at the MMA fight we’d been watching on the tv. “But no. No, ya really had to go and let Omega and Jackson’s bitch asses dictate your move. Play into their hands.”
“This isn’t helpin, Mox.”
“You said you wanted to be around honest people, man. I’m bein honest. You’re a fuckin idiot, okay? And if you think it’s over, you’re an even bigger one. Because man,” he chuckled and took a longer sip. “If you really want her back? You gotta make it happen. Stop sittin around and whinin, holy shit. Step the fuck up and prove her wrong.”
I eyed him, waiting on him to explain.
“She probably thinks ya never gonna love her like ya did that ex. And the longer ya sit here, drownin it in alcohol, the more she’s gonna believe she’s right on that. Nobody likes feelin second best, man. Does it fuckin feel good when Jackson and Omega do that shit to you?”
“Fuck no.” I answered, beginning to see where Mox was going with this rollercoaster of a pep talk.
The wheels were turning in my mind.
“Then don’t fuckin let it happen with her. If you think you’re feelin bad right now, try imaginin how she feels, man.” Mox finished off his drink and rose from the stool, nodding. “Gonna go out for a smoke. You.. Think about what I fucking said. Got it, man?”
And think about it, I did.
I know by now, no thanks to Matt, that whoever she was with that day I did go to her and try to make this right… They’re not a thing anymore. So, maybe…
Maybe it’s not too late.
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inside me like my pulse
tommy miller/oc (jenny foster even tho she isnt explicitly named in this)
warnings for some mention of gore / wound treatment but nothing explicit
1.5k
Summer, 2031
It was supposed to be just a routine check.
They’ve been lookin’ into gettin’ the dam to work for the last couple months — since Old James came to Jackson, really, ‘cause turns out he was a dam engineer before the outbreak — and doin’ back-and-forth trips to it every few days, just to check it out. Old James thinks it’s doable, and, yeah, Tommy’s got his reservations, but hey, if it works—
Well, anyway. They got halfway to the damned dam and bandits fell on ‘em from all sides, and Tommy got in more than a few good shots at ‘em but they still managed to knock him off’a Lucy with a shot to the side, and he’s good, seriously, but Young James and Maria and the rest ain’t lettin’ him off that easy, so.
“I can walk, y’know,” he grumbles as he’s dragged to the clinic, one arm slung over Young James’ shoulders and the other pressed tight to the wound above his hip.
Eugene snorts, arm tightenin’ ‘round Tommy’s waist. “Right, sure, and — crap, you’re heavy — and I’m the Queen of fucking Sheba.”
“If I’m so heavy, put me down.”
“If you’re so heavy, cut down on the carbs, old man,” Eugene snarks right back, and then they’re through the clinic’s door.
“Oh, for—” the doctor swears, wipin’ her hands dry on a towel and pointin’ to the bed her and Maria dragged in from one of the houses a couple days after she arrived. “Get him on the bed, now.”
“Hear that, Tommy?” Eugene grunts, him and Young James shufflin’ Tommy between them and settlin’ him where instructed. “Pretty lady wants you on the bed. You probably haven’t heard that in a while.”
Young James snorts, but the doctor — Julia? Jenna? — slams shut the door of the cabinet she’s riflin’ through hard. “I ain’t takin’ that kinda talk in my clinic, Linden. So go on, get.”
“Ma’am, he didn’t mean any disrespect—” Young James starts, always the peacemaker, but the doctor ain’t havin’ none of it.
“Don’t make me kick your ass out too, kid.” She levels a hard look at Eugene as she draws closer, pullin’ a chair up next to the bed so she’s level with Tommy. “Y’heard me.”
Eugene shoots a look Tommy’s way — can you believe this shit? — but raises his hands in palms-up appeasement. “Yes ma’am. James, you let me know how this idiot is when she’s done, alright?”
Young James — who really is young, can’t be more than twenty — nods solemnly, lingerin’ at Tommy’s other side like a mother hen.
And then Eugene’s gone, and the doctor’s lookin’ Tommy over with barely-concealed irritation. “What’ve you gone and done now, Tommy Miller?”
And shit, how’s she know his name and he ain’t know hers? He’s boutta ask, too, except then his side twinges painfully, a feelin’ like nails on a chalkboard, and he groans, curlin’ in on himself.
“He got shot, ma’am,” Young James reports helpfully, wringin’ his hands. “In— in the belly.”
The doctor scowls. “Shit. Bandits again?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She huffs, leanin’ back in her chair to reach for a pair of scissors. They ain’t surgical scissors, neither; they’re clunky, with a bright blue plastic handle, like classroom scissors — but bigger, sharper. Kitchen scissors, maybe?
“Hope you ain’t too fond of this shirt, Miller,” the doctor remarks, pushin’ on his shoulder to ease him out of his position ‘till he’s lyin’ flat and his hand’s fallin’ away from his side, and he grumbles.
“I’m passin’ly fond of it, actuall— hey!”
She starts snippin’ away at the cotton near the hem, complainin’ under her breath about the blunt blades for a couple seconds before they finally catch and slice on through, and then she’s throwin’ the scissors on the table behind her and rippin’ it the rest of the way.
“Yeah, well, too bad. Maybe next time, don’t get shot. Or wear a shirt you don’t like, if you’re gonna.”
He’d thought it hurt before, but the shirt peelin’ away from the bloody wreck above his hip is a whole other realm of agony, and he cries out, swearin’ and tightenin’ his fingers on the edges of the bed. It’s only when the fabric falls open completely that he can grit out, “could’a warned me first, Doc.”
The doctor snorts. “It’s a gunshot wound, Miller. It’s gonna hurt.” Then, to Young James: “You, get over here, help me turn him over.”
“Turn— you ain’t gotta turn me over, I’m fine!” Then, to punctuate his point, he struggles to his feet, keepin’ his swayin’ to a minimum once he’s up. “See?”
“God, I wish I got paid for this shit,” the doctor mumbles, straightenin’ to grab his shoulders — both of ‘em, this time — and shove his ass back down onto the bed. “You sit down and you stay there, Tommy Miller, or I swear t’God, a bullet in ya side’s gonna be the least’a your problems.”
He blinks up at her. She’s a pretty little thing, he realises; cheeks flushed from the heat, or maybe from him pissin’ her off, her eyes bluer than a sweet, clear Texas night, hair dark and chopped close to her jaw.
Formidable, too. His shoulders are gonna bruise.
Huh.
Once she’s happy he ain’t goin’ anywhere, she nods, then scoots her chair back so she can take a look at his back. It takes a minute or so, but eventually, she sighs. “No exit-wound. Just what I wanted to see when I woke up this mornin’.”
“Ain’t you doctors s’posed to be taught about bedside manner?” Tommy grumbles under his breath.
The doctor — what is her goddamned name? — gives him a witherin’ look, before pushin’ him so he’s lyin’ down again. “Ain’t you patients supposed to listen to your doctors?”
Tommy pulls a face, watchin’ her fine, small hands pull first one latex glove and then the other on.
“You, uh— James, right?”
“Yes ma’am,” Young James confirms, clearin’ his throat and pullin’ himself tall.
“James. I got a bottle’a whiskey in that cabinet, just behind you. Can you grab it for me?”
“Where in the hell’d you get whiskey?” Tommy wonders aloud, watchin’ Young James follow her instructions like a well-trained little puppy.
She sighs. “Charlottesville.”
“Char— why Charlottesville?”
“It was there. Thanks, kid,” she says this last to Young James, who’s retrieved the whiskey and passed it to her.
“You’re welcome,” he says, clearin’ his throat again, ears lookin’ a bit pink.
Well, shit. Tommy doesn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes.
Only he don’t have time to do neither, ‘cause the doc’s uncappin’ the bottle and shufflin’ closer. “Now, this is gonna hurt.”
“Wh— c’mon, don’t I at least get a sip first? Anaesthetic, that kinda thing?”
She sighs again, lookin’ half like she wants to clock him in the jaw, before passin’ it over. It burns on the way down, behind his teeth and all the way to his belly, but it’s a good kinda burn. Better than the one in his fuckin’ side, at least, Jesus.
The whiskey makes a sloshin’ sound against the glass when he passes it back to her, and that’s the last thing he thinks for several seconds, ‘cause then she pours it over his wound and shit does that hurt.
“Motherfucker,” he wheezes once the world sharpens again, hands fistin’ in his jeans, back archin’ like he’d been kicked in the goddamn gut. “I’m— I’m gonna throw up.”
“James, get a bucket.”
“Can do, ma’am.”
“Alright,” the doctor sighs, combin’ one gloved hand over his hairline. He focuses on the feelin’ of her fingers against his scalp, breathin’ steadily through his nose like some lightweight teenager boutta hurl. “Easy. Worst part’s over.”
“W— worst part?” Tommy laughs throatily, pressin’ the back of his hand to his mouth to try and stop the bile he can feel swirlin’ in his belly from spewin’ right into her pretty face. “Yeah, you ain’t kiddin’.”
“Betcha regret the whiskey now, huh?”
Tommy groans.
Young James must’ve found one of the horse-feed buckets outside, ‘cause when he comes back, his footsteps are joined by the clang of metal against tile. “You doing okay, boss?”
Tommy waves his hand vaguely in the air. “Right as rain, Jim.”
Young James wrinkles his nose. “I asked you not to call me that.”
“We ain’t done yet, y’know,” the doctor interrupts, and when Tommy looks at her, she’s slidin’ some thread through a needle.
“Wh— wait, ain’t you gonna take the bullet out?”
She sighs, bitin’ her lip as she casts those bright eyes over Tommy’s whole form. “You ain’t pale, and you’re bitchin’ enough you’re clearly alert, so I don’t think you’re bleedin’ too much inside. Don’t wanna go diggin’ and fuck somethin’ up.”
After a sec, she hums, then leans in and presses two fingers to Tommy’s neck. He blinks up at her, then back to her pale wrist, which is all he can see of her hand at this angle. Her gloves are all rubbery and weird-feelin’ on his skin, but her fingertips are warm and firm, unyieldin’ against his skin.
“Nah,” she says eventually, and Tommy starts, meetin’ her eyes. “Your pulse ain’t weak. It’s strong, actually— you got a fast heart.”
Tommy clears his throat, meets Young James’ eyes. Yeah, tell me about it, he thinks, and then: aw, shit, I can’t even make fun of him now.
#1#2#3#4#5#this is NOT going in any tags hoo boy#anyway. we're here now. idk whats happening but we're here#me looking at these two idiots: haha ur gonna get MARRIED#my writing#ch: jenny foster#following the queuen
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Dante’s Inferno - Beetlejuice x Reader [Smut]
Synopsis: Spending your undead life working at a brothel in the Neitherworld isn’t the worst. It gets even better when the ghost with the most pays you a visit at work.
Notes: This was supposed to be pure smut, but it got feelsy. Lol. It’s based on the scene where the brothel shows up in the movie!
You wave goodbye to Marcel, the vampire you usually get on Tuesdays. He's a regular (nice man) but he's into biting. You don't mind-- thankfully though, your madam, Madam Bones, knows a bit of cosmetic witchcraft, to get you fixed up before the next client.
You've been working here at Dante's Inferno Room for years, ever since you came of age. It's a fun way to pay the bills, and the characters you meet along the way are well worth it. Most of them have had a lifetime of experience with women too, seeing as they're all dead, so the actual work isn't too bad either. Dante's is a highly exclusive club, that can only be conjured by few, and gossip floats around the Neitherworld establishment, as freely as a ghost who hadn't learned the gravity incantation.
Every girl in this place seemed to dream of the 'dead's most eligible bachelor'-- but nobody says his name, for some reason. It was a jinx, a curse or something to say it. You're curious just who the man behind the myth is.
You let Madam Bones heal your neck, and she checks the time on a watch with spinning hands.
"Elliot Mortescue will be here shortly," she announces to you, "He's requested you specifically." Elliot is a dead baron-- a bit of a stuffy ghoul, and you assume he wasn't that much more fun in life than he is in the bedroom dead. But, he pays well, and he's also a regular, so you don’t mind how he always asks for you. He says he likes your horns best.
Elliot arrives, and you smile, beckoning with your signature plumping of your breasts and pouting. He smirks, taking off his top hat and stalking over to you, when you suddenly hear something outside.
About three of the girls are out on the verandas, luring someone in. The music of the place gets just a little bit louder, and you walk out past the less-than-pleased baron to see.
Standing on the balcony, you look down, and see a man who accomplishes a near impossible feat-- makes you quiver.
"It's him," your fellow dancer and coworker whispers, making sure her horns are brushed off, "It's--"
Another girl puts her hands over her mouth. She frowns, grows out her fangs, and snaps down. The second girl scowls, and shakes her hand.
"Don't say his name!"
"That's...?" you whisper, looking down.
"Uh huh," the second girl nods. "The ghost with the most. Any girl in here would just die for a night with him."
You see the ghost start to dance toward you, strange spikes protruding from his jacket. They disappear though, and you can hear the excited grunts coming from him as he slicks back his wild white hair.
"Mm... ooh, yeah..." He shakes his hips as he finally enters, and he rubs his hands together. "Ah, ladies. Ladies! I'm feelin' a little... anxious, if ya know what I mean."
A bunch of the demon girls giggle, and some others roll their eyes, though not without a sideways glance. The ghost grabs his crotch, and nods. "Oof, uh huh! I'm definitely in need of a little love, girls. It's been too long. Years. Hundreds of years, ya don't know what it's like!"
"Ohhh," everyone fawns over him, and he makes a show of choosing a girl. You watch him closely as he looks around, narrowing your eyes. He looks... familiar.
"Mmm, you look like a freak! But you're real spooky, babe, maybe I should..." He trails off, and his eyes stop on you. “Ooh. Ooh, yeah.” He licks his lips, shooting you finger guns. "I have GOT to go with you, babes. Knocking me outta the park with that look, holy, is it blazing like the fiery pits of hell in here, or is it just me, huh?"
Everyone else moans and sighs that he picked you, muttering about how all of the best always choose you. You just take this ghost by the collar, leading him up to a luxury bedroom. Once you're inside, you grin, pushing him up against the door.
“What would you like, and how would you like it?” you drawl. His eyes fly down to your breasts, and he palms himself.
“Mmm... I could probably finish just watchin’ ya stand there, to be honest, babes...”
You pout, circling him and nudging him away from the door. “But you don’t want that. And I don’t want that. I want you to finish inside me.”
He groans, a sound that goes straight to your pussy. The more you look at him in the hellish candlelight, the more attractive he gets. Although... there’s something about him that’s oddly familiar.
“I know watcha mean,” he growls, looping his arm around your waist and dipping you back, “But it’d still be hot, wouldn’t it?”
You lick your lips. “Oh, yes. You, sitting on the edge of the bed...” you walk him over like a dog on a leash, and sit him down, smoothing your hands down his shoulders, “...watching as I put on a little show...” You start to strip, opening up your shirt to expose your bra. The ghost is practically salivating by now, but you put your foot up, keeping it on his chest. “Ah ah. You wanted to watch. So watch.”
You snap your panties against your ass, and unhook your bra, turning around and winking. He’s dying to see you from the front. You toss the garment back, and squeeze your ass for him, moaning softly, imagining it’s him. He curses under his breath, and you hear the telltale sound of him rubbing one off. You hold up a finger.
“You know the rules.”
He stops, and you finally turn, striding over to him. You get on top of him, straddling him, and barely touch his lips with yours.
“Hooo,” the ghost sighs, “I am gonna need a good millennium to get over those tits, babe.” You kiss him gently on the nose, leading his hands up your torso.
“Maybe more.” You squeeze your breasts with his hands, and he groans even louder.
“Fuck. I wanna fuckin’ break this bed with you, babygirl,” he growls, teeth gnashing. He’s lost his playful side-- he wants you bad now. Arousal spreads through you as you drag down between his legs, kneeling. You quirk and eyebrow, and he licks his lips again, voice register dropping down to a regular tone.
“Detours are fine too, however.” You take him out of his pants, and he gasps at the contact. “Fuckin’ yeah. C’moooon, baby. Give me summa that,” he cackles, resting his hands behind his head as he leans against some invisible force keeping him upright. You put your hand on his knee, and use the other to take his cock in your hand, sliding your wet mouth down over it. “Holy fuckin’ shit,” he murmurs, “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about... this was worth the wait, you better believe it, mmmm!”
You suck him until he’s clutching at the bed and knocking his hips up so fast you can’t breathe. You pop off, shooting him a dirty look, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Wassamatter? I facefuck you too rough?” He sets off cackling again, so you climb on top once more.
“Fuck me. Hard. Now.”
“Can’t disappoint the lady,” he smirks, and grabs you by the hips, flipping you over so he’s on top of you. You lean up to kiss him, but just as you do, you notice something. He does as well. He notices a small tattoo, right under your ear. His eyes widen, and yours do too.
It all hits you too fast, like the car that hit you on the bridge.
"Beetlejuice?" you murmur. He swallows, worry in his eyes.
"Uh. Oops. She said it once, I can forgive it. Twice, well--"
"Beetlejuice," you clench your jaw, and he lets out a high pitched squeal.
"Babes, wait--!" he blurts, and holds his hands up as he topples off the bed. You look over the edge, accusation in your eyes.
“You better give me one good reason not to say it one more time and send your ass back to that model!”
“I’ll, uh... give ya the best orgasm you’ve had in your whole undead existence?” A pillow hits him in the face, exploding with dust. He coughs. “Evidently, that was not a good reason.”
“You LEFT me!” you shout. To hell with your job. To hell with the money you would’ve gotten for finishing him off-- you’re pissed.
When you die, you forget things. You forget who you loved, who meant the most to you. You retain some of who you are, but not a lot sticks in the afterlife, here in the Neitherworld. The workers at the office see to that.
But the cracks all seem to be getting bigger, letting little fragments through. You used to babysit for the Maitlands’ newborn. You were between jobs, and needed the money... you had known Barbara from saying hi at the local grocery mart, and after that, you had practically lived at their old house, as a live-in nanny.
Until...
You were in that accident. The car, the bridge, the river... you had drowned, you weren’t hit by a car. You were in the car! You had ended up here in the working class of the Neitherworld, and... well, you had no idea where the Maitlands ended up, after they also died in the same accident. As far as you know, their baby had been adopted by the family who moved in... though that was just a rumor from Juno.
But Beetlejuice... you had met the ghost in the model, one night when you were lonely. Everyone else had been sleeping... he had found you, calling out softly for someone, and you had started some kind of strange affair. After a while, you started to develop feelings for him. Then he disappeared.
“Hello?? Dead guy with a boner lyin’ on the ground!” Beetlejuice shouts, and you very nearly smother him with another pillow. He jumps up, covers his crotch, and sighs. “Look. (y/n). Before ya kill me again, I... I had to go!”
“Why?”
“I just!” He clenches his jaw, shaking. “I can’t answer you! I can’t tell ya, alright?!”
“Why not?”
“Babes...” He sighs, seeing there was no way of getting around this. “I started to... feel stuff for you. I couldn’t stay, cause you were alive! You couldn’t fall in love with a dead guy. Young hot thing like you... much rather pay to bang demon chicks for the rest of eternity.” He realizes the irony of this, and looks you over, cringing. “How the hell did you become a demon?!”
“Probably by fucking a ghost,” you growl, walking him up against the wall with a finger pointed at his neck. He manages a nervous smile.
“Touche.” He sighs again, brushing hair out of your face. You find yourself leaning into the touch. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry! I am. I’m just a mess. Alright? I’m a dirty mess who knows I fuck up so bad all the time that I don’t deserve a... perfect girl like you.”
You look into his eyes, and smirk. “You want me to start playing the violin?”
He starts to smile, then laughs. You laugh as well, and his usual pizazz is back. He wraps his arms tight around you, then starts mouthing kisses up your neck. You moan, remembering how many times sex had been initiated like this. Your pussy is responding to the memories coming back as well-- with every touch from Beetlejuice, you remember one more little thing he used to do in bed to drive you wild.
You both fall to the floor, fuck the bed, and you get on top of him, lowering yourself onto his cock. You lean forward so your breasts are in his face, and he lets out an excited holler.
“Yeeeah!!” He buries his face in your breasts, motor boating. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He licks your nipples, sucking them into his mouth and grazing them with his teeth. You can’t get over his horny, salacious expression, like he wants you so bad, he needs you, he can’t get enough. You rock down, biting your lip, and he grabs your horns, holding on for the ride as you both move in time with one another, as if no time had gone by at all.
“Baby, baby,” he moans, “Ya gotta forgive me. I’m so fucking horny for you, I gotta come.”
“Come inside me, Beetlejuice.” Just then, in a flash of light, you both appear somewhere else. You look around, and he starts to laugh his ass off. “What?” you mutter, frowning at the plastic graveyard behind you.
“Ya said my name the third time!” he snorts. You turn to see his grave, and a couple of model houses. You laugh as well, and lean down, slamming your lips into his hard. He groans, hands going to your hips, and he gropes you as he pants your name and comes. He thrusts his hips up hard, and you gasp too, coming just as hard as he does.
You roll off, laying back on the uncomfortable plastic turf. “Well. You owe me my day’s wages.”
He smirks, ogling down your naked body and feeling a hand down it. “Happy to pay up. Just lemme pop down to my humble abode...” You roll over closer to him, cuddling into his arm as he brushes his nose against yours. “Wanna stay for awhile? Hope you like Italian.”
You hear a soft male voice. “What’s...?” You look up to see two people towering over you-- a familiar couple. “(y/n)! It’s been... years!”
“Barb? Adam?” you shriek, and Beej snaps his fingers fast, getting a dress on you. It’s two sizes too small, hugging you way too tight, but he just shrugs with a nasty smirk. The two ghosts above you look at each other, to you, then to Beetlejuice.
“Please tell me you didn’t corrupt our innocent babysitter, you horrible banshee,” Barbara snaps. Beej just grins in smug satisfaction, zipping himself up.
“Actually, Bab-- (y/n) corrupted me.” Shrieking laughter echoes through the model, as the ghostly couple shake their heads at what their afterlife had become.
#beetlejuice#beetlejuice x reader#beetlejuice 1988#tim burton#michael keaton#michael keaton x reader#reader x beetlejuice#reader x michael keaton#michael keaton smut#beetlejuice smut#ghost with the most#beetlejuice fanfiction#beetlejuice fic
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youtube
Look, black is beautiful, black is excellent
Black is pain, black is joy, black is evident
It's workin' twice as hard as the people you know you're better than
'Cause you need to do double what they do so you can level them
Black is so much deeper than just African-American
Our heritage been severed, you never got to experiment
With family trees, 'cause they teach you 'bout famine and greed
And show you pictures of our fam on their knees
Tell us we used to be barbaric, we had actual queens
Black is watchin' child soldiers gettin' killed by other children
Feelin' sick, like, "Oh shit, this could have happened to me"
Your mummy watchin' tellin' stories 'bout your dad and your niece
The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice
A kid dies, the blacker the killer, the sweeter the news
And if he's white you give him a chance, he's ill and confused
If he's black he's probably armed, you see him and shoot
Look, black is growin' up around the barbershop
Mummy sayin', "Stay away from trouble, you're in yard a lot"
Studying for ages, appreciatin' the chance you got
'Cause black is in your blood, and you ain't even got the heart to stop
Black is steppin' in for your mother because your father's gone
And standin' by your children when you haven't proven karma wrong
Black is doin' all of the above then goin' corner shoppin'
Tryna help a lady cross the road to have her walkin' off
Black is growin' up around your family and makin' it
Then being forced to leave the place you love because there's hate in it
People say you fake the shit, never stayed to change the shit
But black is bein' jealous, you'd be dead if you had stayed in it
Black is strugglin' to find your history or trace the shit
You don't know the truth about your race 'cause they erasin' it
Black has got a sour fuckin' flavour, here's a taste of it
But black is all I know, there ain't a thing that I would change in it
Look, black ain't just a single fuckin' colour, man there's shades to it
Her hair's straight and thick but mine's got waves in it
Black is not divisive, they been lyin' and I hate the shit
Black has never been a competition, we don't make this shit
Black is deadly
Black is when you're freezin' in your home and you can't get sleep but never feelin' empty
'Cause you got 20 cousins in your country living stress-free
Walkin' for their water, daughter wrapped inside a bed sheet
Black is distant
It's representin' countries that never even existed while your grandmother was livin'
Black is my Ghanaian brother readin' into scriptures
Doin' research on his lineage, findin' out that he's Egyptian
Black is people namin' your countries on what they trade most
Coast of Ivory, Gold Coast, and the Grain Coast
But most importantly to show how deep all this pain goes
West Africa, Benin, they called it slave coast
Black is so confusin', 'cause the culture? They're in love with it
They take our features when they want and have their fun with it
Never seem to help with all the things we know would come with it
Loud in our laughter, silent in our sufferin'
Black is bein' strong inside and facing defeat
Poverty made me a beast, I battled the law in the streets
We all struggled, but your struggle ain't a struggle like me
Well how could it be when your people gave us the odds that we beat?
I mean, fuckin' hell, what about our brothers that are stuck in jail?
That couldn't bust a bell, they held a bird and gotta live with it
Black is bein' guilty until proven that you're innocent
Black is sayin', "Free my fucking niggas stuck inside in prison cells"
They think it's funny, we ain't got nothin' to say to them
Unconditional love is strange to them; it's amazin' 'em
Black is like the sweetest fuckin' flavour, here's a taste of it
But black is all I know, there ain't a thing that I would change in it
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Monster Among Men - 02
Word Count: 1,967
Calum
I walk up to the front, all the weird cashiers are out today, yet again, although I've never seen that short chick in the big ass hoodie and braids before, I guess I'll go to her.
I put my shit down and dig some cash out of my wallet and hold it in front of her. "D-do you have an ID with you?" She bites her lip after asking, looking like she instantly regrets it.
What the fuck kinda question is that? Do I look like a child? "What?" I say, obviously annoyed.
"I have to ask everyone that question by law sir...I'm not trying to offend you, I—"
I roll my eyes at her explanation and cut her off, pulling out my ID "Here."
She looks at my ID, a little longer for my comfort and I then put it away. "Thank you." I hear her mumble, almost inaudibly.
I watch as she scans my items, then I divert my attention to my phone for a second. When I look up she's staring directly at me, what the fuck? She's probably just looking for attention, but I don't have time for any bitch tonight. "Are you gonna take my fuckin money or not? I don't have all damn day." I grumble.
I watch as she snaps out of whatever fucking daydream, fantasy shit she had going on "Huh?"
I roll my eyes once again and see her cheeks turn a bright red as she takes my money and slowly counts out my change.
I tap my foot impatiently and she hands me the change. Fucking finally. "H-here you go, have a nice night." She stutters to me.
I grab my shit and narrow my eyes at the girl. "Uh, yeah"
If this were any other night I'd probably try convincing her to letting me fuck her because she was pretty hot honestly, a guy can wonder what she's hiding underneath that fucking baggy sweatshirt.
I make my way out to my car and then home. I really need a smoke now, I think to myself and then look in the dash and my pockets, no cigs. Fuck, I ran out again and didn't fucking notice, I really don't want to go back to that damn store, but I suppose I'm gonna have to.
I let out a groan and turn the damn car around, heading back to that place, maybe I will talk to that chick, a good fuck would be good tonight honestly.
...
I park my car, once again in the vacant parking lot and go into the store, I notice the girl from before glancing my way, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at my second appearance within 15 minutes.
I walk over to her, she looks terrified, "Um, h-how can I help you? Did I count your change wrong? I'm so sorry—"
She stutters her words while looking up at me, she's so fucking short. I roll my eyes at her "No angel, I forgot I needed some Marlboros, can you grab me a pack or two?" I smirk at her and watch as confusion takes over her face.
"My name is Harlow...not Angel, there isn't even an Angel that works here...?" She bites her lip and grabs two packs for me. I chuckle, "Yeah, I know, and I'm Calum, do you need to look at my fucking ID again?" I say while pulling out a few dollars.
"Um, no." She takes the cash and hands me my cigarettes. "Thanks love, you're very pretty by the way." I wink at her and she seems taken aback by the compliment, I see the heat rising in her cheeks.
"We should hang out some time, what works for you?" I smirk, knowing she's probably melting right now with all this attention I'm giving her.
"Uh, not to be rude or anything, but I just met you? Isn't this a little odd, um Calum?" She bites her lip, I'm now taken aback by her response.
Did she just basically reject my offer? She must have a boyfriend or some shit like that. "How is it fucking odd? Are you riding another dick or something? Because trust me babe, I'm not trying to get involved in any fucking bullshit drama with a damn boyfriend." I spit out my words, obviously irritated.
She takes a step back, my harsh words seem to have an effect on her. I take one last look at her and storm out of the store. How dare she try to embarrass me like that? What a fucking bitch.
Harlow
I had a chance to fix the braid once the lady I was assisting finished checking out. After I fixed it Jessica, my coworker, asked me yet again why I keep my hair like this everyday.
"Well, my hair can get in the way, it is a bit long and can be a bit frizzy sometimes as well, so keeping it braided just solves my issues." I explain to her with a smile, it kind of gets on my nerves that she has the need to ask me this every week at some point, but I do not have the nerve to say anything to her about it, especially since she is just curious.
She nods with a smile. The rest of my day runs on, pretty slow and boring honestly and the next time I check my phone for the time I see it's already 9pm. There's also a text from Lynn.
...
To: Harhigh not low
dude I have some big shit to spill
...
Ugh, I'll have to tell her I can't talk quite yet, I think I forgot to tell her I'm working all day oops.
I look up when I hear a thud of cans. I see a guy wearing a leather jacket set his items down and pull some cash out of his wallet.
I look at his items...two packs of beer, a box of condoms, and a bag of chips. Oh.
He seems to have the most bored, disgruntle facial expression ever, I better not get on his nerves, but I think rather than keeping his mouth shut...like what I do with Jessica, he would most certainly call me out.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and I look up at him, he is extremely tall. "D-do you have an ID with you?" I bite my lip as I watch him grow angry with my question.
"What?" He spits out. He has some sort of accent, yes I'm a little terrified about this giant man I have never seen before, but I am supposed to ask everyone that question who buys stuff like beer and condoms...and I am curious.
"I have to ask everyone that question by law sir...I'm not trying to offend you, I—"
"Here." He cuts me off by showing me his ID. I examine the piece of plastic...Calum Hood...22 years old...Australian. Oh my god he's Australian! Just like Lynn!!
He quickly shoves it back in his wallet and gives me a glare. I take a deep breath and start to scan his items. As I scan the bag of chips I mumble a quiet "thank you" to him and he just stands there.
I glance and see he's now on his phone texting someone, a friend or something I assume. Maybe even a girlfriend? Boyfriend? I don't know. I would be surprised if he didn't have someone. This guy is beyond attractive. I wonder if he knows Lynn? Haha that would be hilarious.
"Are you gonna take my fuckin money? I don't have all damn day." He snaps at me.
"Huh?" Oh no, I have been staring this whole time. Oh no.
He rolls his eyes and I take the money from him cautiously. He thinks I'm a weirdo now. I count his change slowly, that way I don't mess up and give him the wrong amount.
He looks like the kind of guy that would storm back in here demanding for one cent more if I forget one penny. I cannot mess this up. His foot tapping causes me to hurry my counting and I give him the receipt and change as quickly as possible.
"H-here you go, have a nice night." I say, hoping to sound more confident.
"Uh, yeah" He looks at me oddly and then leaves the store. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding in.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and see three more texts from Lynn.
...
To: Harhigh not low
heyyyyyyyyy harlowww bitch you better answer me.
To: Harhigh not low
HARLOW.
To: Harhigh not low
I know you're not ignoring me tf
...
I laugh quietly to myself and send her a quick text to stop her nagging.
...
To: Lyin Lynn
calm down. I'm at work, I don't get off for another half hour, just wait!!
To: Harhigh not low
Fucking finally you answer. But okayyy <3
...
As I'm putting my phone away I hear the door open and look to see the the guy from before. Oh no, I bet I counted his change wrong and he's here to yell at me. I tried counting as fast as possible, but he insisted on rushing me.
He walks over to me, with the same grumpy look on his face and I start to worry. "Um, h-how can I help you? Did I count your change wrong? I'm so sorry—"
He rolls his eyes at me, "No angel, I forgot I needed some Marlboros, can you grab me a pack or two?" His face changes into some sort of a smirk, I don't know, and why did he call me Angel? My name tag says Harlow, and I don't thing anyone could mistake Harlow for Angel.
"My name is Harlow...not Angel, there isn't even an Angel that works here...?" I bite my lip nervously and grab two of the Marlboros off the stand behind me. He chuckles softly at my words. "Yeah, I know love, and I'm Calum. Do you need to look at my fucking ID again?" He asks while pulling out some money.
"Um, no." I take the cash from his hand and give him the cigarettes.
"Thanks love, you're very pretty by the way." He winks at me and now I'm completely confused. What?
"We should hang out some time, what works for you?" He smirks at me, for the second time tonight and I'm completely uncomfortable. I don't even know this guy, and judging from all the stuff he's bought tonight I think I would rather keep my distance. I'm also kind of embarrassed that he would go ahead and assume I was going to say yes. That's a bit rude.
"Uh, not to be rude or anything, but I just met you? Isn't this a little odd, um Calum?" I bite my lip, using his name, I really don't want to upset this guy.
I watch at his playful smirk turns into a scowl. "How is it fucking odd? Are you riding another dick or something? Because trust me babe, I'm not trying to get involved in any fucking bullshit drama with a damn boyfriend."
What? Boyfriend? Babe? I don't understand this leather clad man standing before me. How could anyone say anything so rude to another person, I just met him. He does not really have a right to act so offended, and definitely does not need to use that sort of language, especially if he's interested in hanging out or something. I don't know, this is very odd.
I take a step back, as if to try and block the harsh words that ran out of his mouth. He glares at me one last time before rushing out of the store. What a strange man.
---
thought i’d post chapter two since it’s been a little while since i posted chapter one! let me know what ya think!!
#monster among men#calum hood#calum hood au#5sos fanfic#5 seconds of summer#5sos#michael clifford#ashton irwin#luke hemmings#original fanfiction#5 seconds of summer fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#punk calum hood#fanfic au#dazedbymalum#cal#hood#chapter 2
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UNOFFERABLE: 26 - TRIAL AND ERROR
Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.
Originally posted by Marvel Gifs
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Set Pre-Thor 1
Pairing: Loki x OFC
Inspired by this imagine
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff.
Word Count: 4,717
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Playlist: “Elysium” — Klaus Badelt, “Honour Him” — Hans Zimmer, “Now We Are Free” — Lisa Gerrard & Klaus Badelt
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A/N: Also available on AO3 and FanFiction.net. Work kept me back an extra hour because retail sucks but the chapter is here and that’s the main thing! If anyone wants to be added to the taglist just let me know. Happy reading!
As Loki and his companions descended the stairs, they met Hogun, Sif, and Fandral, who had cleared all the other floors. When they returned to the selection room — which was well guarded by Volstagg — they gathered all the workers found on the premisses. With the addition of the six prisoners Thor had herded, and the two with whom Ellie was found hiding, there were now thirty of them in total within the room. Whatever guards that had not been killed in the raid were bound and locked in a nearby closet, ensuring any attempted escape was futile.
“You have no need to fear,” Sif explained, addressing the whole room of workers. “We are warriors of Asgard, and this is Prince Thor and Prince Loki. We will keep you safe and ensure that you are all returned to your rightful homes.” There were small gasps and exclamations of relief from the prisoners. Loki watched as some of them embraced each other and began to cry. “While we discuss what will be done, please do a head count and inform us if there are any missing persons we need to find before we leave.”
The Asgardians gathered together, Ellie still clinging to Loki’s waist. The Warriors Three grinned at the sight of her alive and (mostly) well.
“It is good to see you again, little Midgardian!” Volstagg said with the largest smile of the group. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now,” Ellie replied, squeezing Loki’s side. “Thank you for findin’ me.”
“It was all thanks to the princes,” Fandral snorted. “They were very insistent about running blindly into Alfheim to save you.”
“We were lucky Heimdall spotted you when he did,” Hogun said. “Otherwise we may not have found this place at all.”
Sif nodded in agreement. “I am still wondering why this building’s shield fell in the first place.”
“I put that down to extremely good luck,” Thor laughed, ruffling Ellie’s hair affectionately. “I do not care why it happened. All that concerns me now is Ellie and these prisoners.”
“And Frey and Freyja,” Loki added. “We still have to deal with them.”
“And how exactly shall we go about that?” Fandral asked. “They are presumably at Ljosalfgard with the Allfather and Allmother.”
“They are,” Ellie confirmed. “They were here earlier, but they left not too long ago when the King and Queen arrived at the castle.”
“Mother informed us to go to Ljosalfgard when we have secured Ellie,” Thor reminded Loki. “Perhaps we should go to meet them as requested?”
“And what of the prisoners?” Lady Sif asked.
“We should bring them back to Asgard for the time being,” Loki suggested. “We can get them checked over by Eir and then consult Heimdall with returning them to their rightful homes.”
Thor nodded his head in agreement. “A reasonable plan. Then we shall move all the survivors once they have checked to see if everyone is present. We have collectively scoured every inch of this place, so hopefully this is all there is.”
“Hopefully.” Loki looked down at Ellie by his side. “The sooner we get you to Eir the better.”
She looked up to meet his gaze, brow furrowed. “What? No, I’m not goin’ back to Asgard.”
“We need to get you to the healers wing, Ellie. You are clearly exhausted and need to be attended to.”
“I don’t care,” she insisted. “You’re all about to go off and confront those two arseholes and I want’a come too.”
“I do not know if that is the best idea…” Sif trailed off, while Thor looked equally displeased at the thought.
“Would it not be good to bring me as proof of what happened? You can’t bring all these victims, so why not just bring me to show Odin and Frigga that you’re not lyin’ ’bout this place? I’ll be safe with you’s anyway.”
“Ellie,” Loki began, voice uncharacteristically patient. “You do not need to see them again. First of all, you’re hurt—”
“So I have some cuts and bruises, what of it? I’ll manage fine in your company. Just…please. I want’a see them. If my presence will help to prove their guilt then I want'a be there. Then as soon as they’re taken away I promise to go swiftly back to Asgard. I would much rather suffer through travellin’ to the city to ensure their capture and preventin’ any of this from happenin’ to someone again.”
Loki sighed heavily, hating the idea of her being anywhere near that pair again, even if she did make a valid point. Arriving at the castle with several witnesses and an actual victim — let alone one that is a servant to the Odinsons — would be enough proof to show that none of this was a lie. He saw the determined look on her marred face; there was simply no way she would step down and return to Asgard before confronting her attackers.
“Brother?” Thor asked hesitantly, cutting through his thoughts. “What would you have us do? I feel as though it is your decision.”
The Trickster shook his head slightly. “I do not like it, but she is right. We need to guarantee that Frey and Freyja are put away for their crimes and the pain they have inflicted on these people. Ellie’s presence could help to do so, and I cannot argue with her. She would not take no for an answer anyway.” He settled his gaze on her before he went on. “So we shall bring her to Ljosalfgard.”
“With that settled,” Volstagg said. “I will bring the prisoners back to Asgard while you all go confront the twins. I will keep them safe and call Heimdall.”
Hogun nodded slowly. “I shall join you. My help would be better suited attending to the captives while you all confront Frey and Freyja. With the Allfather and Allmother present, a fight is highly unlikely.”
“Even still,” Fandral began, patting the hilt of his sword. “If there is one, Lady Sif and I will be with the princes and the handmaiden.”
“Shall we?” Sif asked, looking to Loki for the signal.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked the young woman by his side, giving her one more chance to opt out.
Looking back up at him, she nodded firmly, the hand on his waist squeezing briefly. “I’m sure.”
Thor placed a massive hand on her shoulder. “Then I would say it is time to confront them!”
“Could you both begin to round up the captives outside?” Loki said, addressing Hogun and Volstagg, who immediately got to work. “We should head outside also. Come.”
The other four Asgardians and their Midgardian companion finally exited the building. After them came the prisoners, some of whom squinted at the harsh sunlight. Others took in the fresh air, their eyes glistening with tears. Loki watched them smile for a moment before he moved his attention to Ellie again. It probably seemed obsessive, but given recent events, knowing she was still there brought him comfort. While all he wanted was to get her home and cleaned up, he knew he couldn’t force her; she would sooner tell him that he wasn’t the boss of her. At least he could keep her safe by refusing to let Frey or Freyja near her. Despite her determined speech, Ellie seemed severely run down. She breathed heavily, her grip on Loki’s waist tightening the more they walked. He noticed she was dragging her feet and abruptly stopped moving so that he could speak to her.
“Little one,” he urged, his voice gentle but still serious. “Are you alright to walk? I am not comfortable with dragging you through Alfheim if it is only making your exhaustion worse.”
“I’m sorry,” she wheezed and lowered her voice. Thor, Fandral, and Lady Sif were helping to herd all the rescued prisoners together, giving the pair a brief moment alone. “I’m just really worn out. I… I used everythin’ you taught me to keep myself safe, and I don’t have much energy left.”
He narrowed his eyes at her comment, immediately catching the specific meaning behind it. Of course she could hardly mention their seiðr lessons aloud with the others nearby, but evidently she had used magic to save herself. While there was a large part of him that felt pride at her statement — he would need to hound her once they were alone for every detail — all he could do right now was worry about her physical state.
“Are you capable of walking on your own?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
She shook her head as her lower lip trembled. “I’m fuckin’…” She tried to steady herself and stumbled, Loki quickly catching her in his arms with ease. Her fingers dug into his biceps as they wrapped protectively around her, tears finally slipping from her red eyes. Her voice sounded raw from her ordeal, and his chest ached as she murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I feel so fuckin’ useless.”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” he reassured her, gently running a hand through her knotted hair. “None of this is your fault, alright? And you are certainly not useless. You just told me that you used all your knowledge to keep yourself alive. That hardly makes you useless. You are a true fighter and I am immensely proud of you, love. Feeling the effects of it now does not mean you are weak.”
Clinging to him, she met his gaze as he slowly lifted her to her feet. “I wouldn’t’ve gotten out if it wasn’t for you and the others.”
“Well then,” he said with a shrug. “We can just say it was teamwork.”
“Are you alright?” Thor asked her, hurrying over to the couple as she tried to steady herself.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just hard to walk after all that happened.”
“Well, you are insistent about getting to the castle…” Without another word, Thor squatted down to his knees, his massive back facing her. He looked over his shoulder when she didn’t move. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Hop on!”
“You want’a give me a jockeyback?” she deadpanned.
“Of course! It will be just like when you were a child and I would run around the gardens with you on my back. Come on! You are very light to carry, I promise.”
With a tentative look at Loki, she agreed. The God of Mischief carefully placed her on his brother’s back, who in turn hooked his arms around her legs while she wrapped hers across the front of his chest.
“There we are,” he declared as he got to his feet. “Are you alright now?”
“This is better,” she assured him and let her cheek rest on the side of his head. “Thank you, Thor.”
“My pleasure! Now, lead the way, brother!”
Before they went on their way, Loki waited for Heimdall to safely transport Volstagg, Hogun, and the captives back to Asgard via the Bifröst. The quintet watched as the they all disappeared within the massive beam of electrical light through the sky. In a matter of seconds, they were left alone in the clearing, the imprint of the Rainbow Bridge burned into the grass beneath them. Without further discussion, they headed for Ljosalfgard.
* * *
Their arrival was unexpected, given the reactions from the elves. Although, they may have also earned such a surprised reaction due to the presence of the Princes, or the fact they were armed to the teeth, or that one of them was carrying a bloody Midgardian atop his back. Obviously the city’s guards immediately questioned their arrival, but given that the Allfather and Allmother were already there, it seemed to justify their presence as well. Unwilling to tell the truth for fear of Frey and Freyja being informed, Loki did what he did best and used some honeyed words to make sure they weren't impeded by anyone as they headed for the castle. When questioned about Ellie, they simply stated that she was due to receive medical attention within. Most of them hardly dared to question royalty, so when the Captain of the Guard stopped them at the castle grounds’ main entrance, he agreed to accompany them into the war room where their parents currently resided with the twins. Once inside and after the guards confirmed there was a woman working within the castle by the name of Dagny, Loki ordered Lady Sif to find her with the help of two of them. The group split up and moved swiftly, even with the remainder of the squadron following them the whole way.
Upon arrival at the massive door to their war room, the Captain of the Guard was quick to call them. “You cannot just burst through the doors unannounced. I have to inform the Lord and Lady of your arrival.”
Loki looked at the man briefly before turning his attention to Ellie, still perched a top Thor’s back. Her tired, bloodshot eyes met his gaze, and he clenched his jaw.
Protocol be damned…
Without another word, he forced the doors open with a harsh shove and abruptly announced their arrival himself.
Inside the room stood their mother and father, Frey, Freyja, and a few officials, one of which Loki quickly recognised as Aelsa Featherwine. Two other guards stood either side of the door, and turned to look at the Asgardians as they burst through. Frey’s head shot up from the war table they were currently stood around to see what the commotion was. Loki met his gaze, and the former’s eyes narrowed.
“My sons,” Odin said casually. “You have arrived.”
“We were not expecting you,” Frey said as they spilled inside and the doors were shut behind them. “Although, we were not expecting the King and Queen either.”
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Freyja demanded as the other officials looked completely befuddled. “They are not permitted to be here.”
“We do not take orders from you,” Loki snapped. “Not when you have been committing horrific crimes right under this realm’s nose.”
“What are you talking about, Prince?” Frey deadpanned, looking at Aelsa in amusement. “Still making up stories and creating mischief?”
Loki gritted his teeth. “There is absolutely nothing false about these allegations.”
“What is going on here?” Aelsa cut in, stepping forward slightly to address Odin and Frigga. “I was not informed that your sons would be joining this discussion.”
“That is because no one was meant to know,” Frigga replied simply. “We had to be sure we had our facts straight before they made their appearance.”
“Allfather,” Frey began, still laughing. “Would you kindly explain why your sons have interrupted our consultation to spout false accusations directed at me?”
Odin shook his head at the Lord, tone sharp. “Well, if they have come with the proof they set out to find, then I do not believe them to be false.”
“And we have brought it, Father,” Thor boomed and stepped forward to stand beside Loki. With a slight shift of his waist, he revealed a still bloodied and bruised Ellie on his back. “We found Ellie within the brothel, as suspected.”
Loki grinned at the sight of Frey’s smile falling slightly. Beside him, Freyja appeared shocked for the briefest of moments before she hid it again. The officials exchanged looks of obvious concern while Aelsa turned to Frey for answers. “Who is this?”
“This is Ellie of Asgard,” Loki answered before Frey even had a chance. “Formally of Midgard, she has been working in our palace since she was a child and is my personal handmaiden. While I was on Vanaheim with my father and brother, she was taken from Asgard against her will and brought here. Her abduction was organised by none other than Frey and Freyja.”
There were a variety of shocked reactions within the room. The guards seemed most surprised, breaking their usually stoic demeanour to look to their Captain for guidance. He stood gawking at Loki in surprise. “Prince Loki, you best supply us with evidence before you accuse the Lord and Lady of your handmaiden’s abduction!”
“Proof?” Loki sneered, turning on the captain, teeth bared in disgust. “Is her beaten and bloodied body not proof enough for you?”
“I cannot just take your word for it,” he snapped back. “Do you have any idea how grave these claims are?”
Loki had had enough. The loyalty of their workers was expected but also bloody infuriating. “Do not speak as though I do not understand the severity of the situation! You might as well be blind if you do not see this to be true!”
“Showing up with a beaten mortal is not proof enough for me, Your Highness!”
“Oh, do you need to see your Lord beat and rape her with your own eyes before you would believe it?”
There was a silence in the room, one no one knew how to fill. Loki simply continued glaring at the captain. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticing Thor slowly getting closer to him. If he had his way, he would wring this arrogant fool’s neck with his bare hands. He was about to insult him further when another voice cut across him.
“Everything Prince Loki says is true,” Ellie insisted, voice hoarse but addressing the whole room. Loki turned to see her still on Thor’s back, but with her head slightly raised and expression grim. “I was attacked by another handmaiden and taken to a whorehouse to be used as a toy by both Frey and Freyja ’cause I’m mortal and apparently—” Slowly, she looked over at Freyja with more hatred in her eyes than Loki had ever seen before. “—I am no more than a whore to be used and abused. They falsely believed me to be Prince Loki’s courtesan and wished to cause him distress by takin’ me away. That, and they’re both fuckin’ deluded, incestuous sociopaths who get off on inflictin’ defenceless prisoners pain.”
“You little cunt,” Freyja sneered, stepping towards her suddenly, a move that caused a reaction from nearly everyone in the room. Loki and Fandral stepped in front of Thor, while Frigga planted herself firmly in Freyja’s path.
“Not another move, my Lady,” Frigga said lowly, face cold and emotionless. “That would be exceptionally unwise of you.”
“I will not stand here while this mortal bitch speaks of my sister and I in such a manner,” Frey growled, now openly glaring at both Loki and Ellie. “I do not care whose handmaiden she is; I will not tolerate it!”
When he turned to walk around the war table towards the guests, it was Odin’s turn to step in. “As my wife previously stated, neither of you will move another inch.”
“I wish to hear more of the girl’s accusations,” Aelsa added from her spot. “Allow her to continue.”
Ellie went on talking without any hesitation, hopefully feeling protected knowing that most of the people in this room were on her side. With some more honestly, she could even turn the others as well. “I was locked away in an illegal brothel along with thirty or so other prisoners. They’d all been abducted from their homes within different realms and forced to service the Lord and Lady and their men for years in some cases. I spoke with them ’bout it as I was escapin’ and they explained that they’d been beaten and raped by both Frey and Freyja frequently. Many other workers had been killed by their hands and those of their men.”
The more Ellie spoke, the more appalled the officials on the other side of the room seemed. The guards began to grow uneasy, not exactly sure who they should believe. Sensing the uncertainty in the room, Loki added his own voice to her argument. “The brothel was hidden under a powerful illusion and that is why it was happening under all of our noses for so long. We were lucky that its barrier fell briefly and gave Heimdall enough time to see Ellie within its walls. My brother and I, as well as the Warriors Three and Lady Sif, explored the brothel and saw its depravity and victims with our own eyes.”
“Where are these victims now?” Aelsa asked.
“Asgard, taken there safely by Volstagg and Hogun. Eir should be attending to them in the healers wing as we speak.”
“I can confirm all the things my son is saying,” Odin said, all eyes in the room falling on him. “We spoke with Heimdall back on Asgard after Ellie and Dagny disappeared. When the building’s magical barrier fell, he saw Frey and Freyja leaving the premises and returning to the capital. Now that my sons and their companions have been at this place firsthand, I am sure they could bring you there for further proof. I would not take these facts lightly, for I will give you my word as the Allfather that they are true.”
“We also have thirty other victims who can confirm the involvement of both of them,” Thor added smugly, nodding his head to the twins.
Loki grinned menacingly at them. “I am sure the brothel guards will confess to your involvement when we have a word with them as well. There are a group of them still at the premises bound and locked away, and waiting to be arrested by you, Captain. Not to mention…”
As if on cue, the door opened and in came Lady Sif and the two squadron guards in her company. Being dragged along behind her was a very worried looking Dagny.
“Right on time,” Loki muttered. “Thank you, Lady Sif. For those of you who are not aware, this is Dagny, the undercover handmaiden who took Ellie from Asgard to Alfheim.”
“I found her trying to escape the castle,” Sif said dryly, glaring at the woman. “And took great pleasure in subduing her.”
Loki noticed the look Ellie was sending her former fellow handmaiden. Her eyes expressed a mix of confusion and rage, but she said nothing before she eventually turned her head away to focus her attention elsewhere.
“Dagny,” Frigga called her. “What do you have to say for your actions? Do you deny your involvement in all of this?”
Looking briefly at Frey, the woman kept her lips sealed. Instead, she simply turned her head away and stared at the floor. She would not talk now, but Loki would do everything in his power to ensure she would later. Then maybe afterwards he would enjoy cutting her tongue from her mouth.
“There are simply too many witnesses for either of you to deny these claims,” Odin explained, addressing both Frey and Freyja now. As he spoke, the guards slowly turned their attention to their employers and approached them. “And so, I order your guards to detain you both for crimes against not only the innocent people of the nine realms, but also for those against the royal family of Asgard.”
For the briefest of moments, Frey and Freyja seemed to consider their options, fight or flight kicking in at the finality in the Allfather’s tone. But the odds were stacked heavily against them, given how greatly outnumbered they were. Loki met Freyja’s gaze and merely smiled at her in response, delighting in finally seeing some panic in her eyes. It did not completely simmer and anger he felt knowing what they did to his beloved, but it helped to ease some of it now that their lives were over. At Odin’s order, the captain approached, having seemingly realised the truth behind the accusations made by Ellie and the others.
“By order of the Allfather,” he grunted, not an ounce of disbelief left in his voice. “You are both under arrest.”
The look of pure hatred that their faces morphed into as they were chained and led from the room didn't bring any further smiles to the face of either prince. They merely stood together, relieved that the right people had been captured after all they put their victims through. They shielded Ellie with their own bodies as the twins were lead out the door, Fandral following the captain closely by Odin’s order. Lady Sif was also given the pleasure of leading Dagny away. The officials were given their leave, excluding Aelsa who was requested to stay.
“Well,” she deadpanned. “I was not expecting to be so horrified by my meeting with them today, but they have outdone themselves.”
“These past few days have been full of surprises,” Frigga agreed, going to embrace her boys. She placed a gentle hand on Ellie’s swollen cheek and whispered. “I am sorry we could not find you sooner, little one, but I am so happy to see you alive.”
“There’s nothin’ to apologise for,” Ellie insisted with what little energy she had left. Even so, she still managed a small smile. “Thank you for helpin’ me.”
“Aelsa,” Odin began, offering her his hand. “If it pleases you, I would have you become the ruler of Alfheim in Frey’s stead. I doubt he or Freyja will be back here any time soon.”
The elf blanched, momentarily surprised by the request, but quickly righted herself with a firm nod and shook his outstretched hand. “Of course, Allfather. I promise to do a far better job protecting the elves than they ever did.”
“I trust you will do so. The light elves of this realm have always been fond of you. I must also ask if, as Alfheim’s next queen, you approve of Frey and Freyja being tried in Asgard?”
“Oh, I insist,” she replied, shaking her head. “I would rather never see either of them again knowing what they put those people through.”
As the pair spoke, Loki turned his attention back to Ellie. Despite the commotion in the room, her eyes were drifting closed, her head now resting on Thor’s vast back as he spoke with their mother.
“Ellie,” the younger prince whispered and gently touched her cheek. “Ellie, are you alright?”
She mumbled in reply. “Jus’ so tired, Loki. ’M sorry…”
“Are you in any pain?” he asked, fully ready to help numb some of it with seiðr before Eir saw to her.
“Jus’ need sleep,” she slurred, barely able to keep her eyes open. “Tired…”
“Thor,” Frigga whispered. “I think you should pass Ellie off to Loki now. Allow him to carry her back to Asgard and share the load.”
“She is as light as a feather, Mother, but if you insist.” Thor didn’t even question it and turned so that Loki could easily slip Ellie into his arms. She didn’t protest at the movement, but simply pressed her face into his neck as he carried her bridal style. As they exchanged their goodbyes with Alfheim’s new soon-to-be queen, the Trickster felt no shame carrying her along the way. Thor was less than eager to leave her side, opting to squeeze her hand gently before he chose to walk beside Odin as they left the castle. Frigga firmly planted herself next to her younger son, happy to see the pair reunited and safe.
“You are both safe now,” she assured him in a whisper. “I promise you that they will never been allowed near her again. In the meantime, we best get her to the healers’ wing.”
“May I stay by her side?” he requested.
Frigga smiled softly and replied. “There is no need to even ask. I would not expect you to be anywhere else.”
“Thank you, Mother, for all that you have done for us in the last few days.”
Loki was well aware that their ordeal was not over yet, but now that he had Ellie in his arms again and those responsible finally captured, he once again felt a much-needed wave of relief wash over him.
“Are we goin’ home, Loki?” Ellie mumbled sleepily, eyes already shut.
He looked down at her lovingly, knowing only his mother could see the exchange and would not judge him for it. He smiled as her face showed a genuine calmness he had not seen since before he left for Vanaheim. Her hand tightly clutched the collar of his tunic, and he knew that it would remain encased in her small fist until she awoke.
“Yes, little one. We are going home.”
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#loki#loki x ofc#loki x ofc fanfiction#unofferable fic#fanfiction#fanfic#thor odinson#frigga#odin#mcu#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#tom hiddleston#avengers#loki x oc#god of mischief#loki fandom#thor ragnarok#asgard#loki laufeyson
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“I tried to change the duvet and I got stuck inside.”
He tried to hide the snort of amusement, he REALLY did, but it was just such a sight to see. This wasn’t the first odd situation he’d seen the girl in, and he didn’t expect it to be the last, but it was certainly one of the most interesting. This was something she managed to do often. She was a clumsy girl, both as a human and a wolf– he wasn’t quite sure HOW he survived up until this point, but he couldn’t deny it was at least a tiny bit cute.
“Let me help.”
“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”
He couldn’t help but smile, a smile he wasn’t quite used to. It’d been a while since he was this genuinely happy, but Malia sparked something new inside of him– something good. He hadn’t spent much time outside since his change, but his girlfriend wasn’t one for the indoors. (( She caused a bit of a mess when she was )).
With slight hesitation, and hope that it was alright, he threw the snowball, a small shrug following after. “It’s just snow.”
“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and forth wheeling.”
Leaning against the wall of the cabin, he crossed his arms over his chest. He’d promised to hear her out– He could offer that at least. He always did, for HER. Few people got such sentiment. Generally, their ideas weren’t worth his time. But, this didn’t fall under the category of ideas that he particularly cared to go along with. Foxx was essentially Malia on steriods– with a much more irritable personality. The idea of tagging along on a date with some human she’d snagged didn’t sound like much fun.
“Idea–How about we don’t do that?”
“I can’t keep hurting you.“
It was cold and dark and the downpour was freezing, the two of them were huddled together to keep warm. They’d been on the run for a short while now, a couple of other DA kids with them. The forrest was not as welcoming a home as the Hogwarts dormitories were, although as of late that was arguable. Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling his face towards hers and pressing a kiss to his lips. It was rough, and her chapped lips added no amount of tenderness to it. All of their kisses had been such lately. She had no time for soft love. The both of them could die at any moment, and her desperation to be close with him showed every time they had a slight moment of intimacy. Pulling away, she pressed her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “It isn’t you, and it never has been. You’re the only good thing I have right now. The people we’re fighting? They aren’t you, Doug. You aren’t them. So, stop. Just stop. Please,” She whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips, his cheeks, before pulling away and pushing herself up off the log they were seated on. Placing her hand on his shoulder and allowing it to linger for a moment she spoke once more, “You’re a good fucking person, Doug. You haven’t hurt me yet.” A lie. A blatant lie, but it needed to be said. She needed to convince him otherwise.
"I trusted you.“
They were arguing again. That was all they did anymore. Fight until their throats were sore and they were hurting more than they already had been. “Oh piss off! Yeah, I fucking lied to you about what they’ve been doing to me. I’ve been lyin’ to you about the Carrows too. You know why? You want to know why I’ve been lyin’ to you? It’s ‘cause I love you, you flaming sack of–” She paused a moment, heart racing so fast she could hear it in her ears. She tugged her sleeve down, covering the evidence of any time she’d spent with the professors that now roamed the halls of Hogwarts. “Doug, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, and you’ve gotta know I’ve only ever lied because It was for your own good. If you knew…You’da gone after them and I don’t want you getting hurt for me anymore. It fucking kills me, okay? So I’ve got to bear a few marks because of ‘em. That’s nothing compared to the hell that is knowing you’ve gone through any bit of pain because of me.” She shook her head, bringing her hands up to run them through her hair. “Fuck this is all my fault.”
"I still love you.“
His words struck her as hard as if he’d slapped her across the cheek. Near immediately she began to shake her head, a nasty look settling in on her normally kind face. “Fuck you, Doug,” the girl hissed through gritted teeth, “You got no right to say that to me. You think you can just say that shit to me and It’ll fix it? No fuckin’ way.” She shook her head once more, looking down at the ground, focusing her attention on her shoes so as to refrain from doing something she’d regret. He might’ve been a real fancy pureblood– But she wasn’t. She didn’t need spells and magic to make him hurt. Her hands tightened into fists, knuckles turning white. Her gaze snapped it’s attention back to his, spitting out her words with venom “Did you really fucking think I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t figure out why you left? Y’know Douglas, when we got together, you made me feel things I didn’t know I could. You made me feel like a real special lady, but I’m not, am I? I’m just some dirty blooded bitch fucking with your reputation– But I’m better than you’ll ever fuckin’ be. You know why, Dougie? Because I know where my loyalties lie. Can you even say that? You wanna play pretend? Fuck with someone else’s life while you’re doing it, yeah?” Taking a few steps backwards, she kept her cold glare steady on him, a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders added while she turned her back to him.
"I don’t want to see you ever again.“
She could feel her heart collapse, and her chest caving in, his words being heard over and over in her mind. Her knees were weak as she took a step forward, her fingers outstretched towards him in a desperate hope he’d reach back. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she wasn’t sure she could stop them from falling this time. As brave as she was, her heart couldn’t handle this. “D-dougie, please. Please, you don’t mean this,” her voice was barely above a whisper, wavering uncontrollably as she struggled to keep herself composed. “Whatever it is i’ve done, please just tell me what. I-I’ll fix it. Please, just don’t do this.” Her voice was broken as she begged him, his words an absolute shock to her. She searched every memory she had for something she could’ve done to make him so angry, but she couldn’t think of anything. The tears finally began to spill over, soaking her cheeks in no time at all. Perhaps it was all of it, everything she’d done. Every little mistake. Perhaps it was just her. Perhaps it was just her blood.
"How many time have I told you to be more careful?“
She grinned, barely able to see as she struggled to hold onto her boyfriend for support. With one hand wrapped around his shoulders, and another clutching her side she found herself struggling to limp through the hallway and towards the hospital wing– Even with his help. “What can I say? I’m your girl. Someone needs to defend your honor, yeah?” She nodded, giving him another bloody grin. Through her attempt to laugh, she found herself coughing up a bit of blood rather than managing to do what she actually wanted to. But, it didn’t seem like she was having any luck with that at all. She’d meant to counter the spell, to block it from hitting Doug, but something had gone wrong and it’d rebounded. Gripping his shoulder tightly, she gave a nod, letting him know she needed to stop for a moment. With his help, she took a seat on the rubble that had once been a hall in Hogwarts. With a shaking hand, she reached out to cup the cheek of her boyfriend who was now crouched in front of her. “I need a moment, yeah. We’ve just won the bloody war. I deserve that much. Just… I’ll be fine.” She leaned her head back against the stone for support, closing her eyes as she winced. It’d be a fuck of a lot easier to get to the hospital wing if she could manage to stop the bleeding, but it wouldn’t.
"You make me sick.“
Her hand was still held loosely over her mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. He’d told her to stay put, that he’d be back when he’d gotten the information he needed, but he’d been taking so long she thought something might’ve happened. Doug had many flaws, and plenty of them were rather grim, but she’d managed to accept that. She loved him for all that he was, not just the good that was on the surface, and not just the good she knew was buried down. The war had been bringing out the worst in him, the worst in both of them really, but never had she expected this. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t, her eyes fixated on the gory display in front of her. The methods of torture in the Wizarding world were foul, but they were simple enough. They didn’t require you to get your hands dirty a majority of the time. Muggle torture, however, was sick beyond belief. The barbaric methods that existed were enough to make you sick, even at the tamest ones. “Muggle torture, Doug? I never expected—You make me sick,” She muttered before turning on her heels and hurrying out of the door frame.
"I can’t stand to look at you.”
She wiped her nose on her sleeve before getting rid of any tears that had previously stained her face. She hadn’t meant to say it, she hadn’t meant to say any of it. She’d only said it because she was angry. She should just swallow her pride, admit she’d been wrong and apologies, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was still furious with him, and although she wanted to ignore the awful things they’d said an done up until this point, something inside of her just wouldn’t let that happen. Holding her head high, she wiped the remaining tears off of her face. “I’ve done some shit things, and i’ll admit it. But you have too, and you can’t pretend that I’m the only one in the wrong here.”
☯: our muses have their first kiss
Stretching her arms above her head, the fifth year made her way into the dining hall. She’d only just awoken, and never having been much of a morning person, she was dreadfully tired. Rather than heading to the Gryffindor table, she made a beeline towards that of the Ravenclaw students. Trudging over towards her boyfriend, she let out a rather loud yawn, scrunching up her nose as she tried to wake herself up. Spotting the familiar head of brown hair, she brushed some loose strands of frizz out of her face. Once she’d made it over she flipped a majority of her hair over one shoulder, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sitting down beside him. “Morning babe.” She nodded quietly before pausing. Her brows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she looked over his face, studying his features for any signs of what he was thinking. She opened her mouth once more, a small noise escaping her lips before leaning in. Cupping both of his cheeks, she placed her lips against his. A small flutter of a laugh escaped her, her nose crinkling as she slid her hands down from his cheeks to his neck.
❤: one of our muses says the first “i love you” to the other
Lena had always had trouble with History of Magic. It was a subject of little importance to her, but thankfully enough she had her boyfriend to depend on. Douglas excelled in many subjects, and although she wasn’t completely sure History of Magic was one of them, she knew he could help more than anyone. She’d invited him to the library for a study session, but as she sat there she couldn’t help herself from drowning out his explanations. She definitely needed the help, but she couldn’t focus on a single thing he was saying. When she was around him, things were entirely different. He made her experience things that she never had before, and although it confused her, she relished every unfamiliar feeling. Her fingers twirled a single strand of messy blond hair, chewing on her lower lip as she began to loose herself in her own mind. Things were so different around Douglas. He made her feel sick to her stomach in the best way possible. He made her head spin, and her heart race. He made her completely loose any sense of reality when he was around, and when he wasn’t around, she felt the strangest need to be. They weren’t a match made in heaven, if anything, they were the exact opposite. He came from a long line of purebloods. Slytherin’s nonetheless. She was a muggle born Gryffindor, but no matter their differences, they made it work. She’d spent the earlier times in their relationship questioning how long they could make it last, but as time went on, she began to forget what it was like to be without him. She was terrified to admit it, but she eventually came to the realization of what she felt. With a slight shake of her shoulder, she knew that he was asking her something—something about the text no doubt. Rather than giving an answer, she knew what she had to say. Without hesitation the words surpassed her lips. “Doug, I think I love you.”
She hadn’t left her bed in weeks, her blonde hair was beyond greasy and matted, not having showered for even longer than that. It had been exactly a year and it hadn’t gotten any better. She hadn’t gotten any better. Everyone had been effected that night. Everyone had lost someone—but she hadn’t just lost someone, she’d lost her entire world. He had been the light in her life, the only ray of sunshine in a time when darkness clouded the world around her. He had been her everything for as long as she could remember, and loosing him had broken her in a way she couldn’t have ever imagined. When you loose someone, your only someone, it changes you. Lena, the girl who had been fierce as a lioness and bright as a the sun had been overcome with grief and with each passing day it continued to get worse. She woke every morning, expecting him to be there beside her, and he wasn’t. It should have been her. God she fucking wished it had been her. But it hadn’t, and nothing would ever change that. She knew that she had to get up, get out of bed, but she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do that. She wasn’t sure she could find the energy or the courage to drive herself over there, to see his name carved into grey stone. Swallowing back the urge to sob, a feeling that frequently came over her, she pushed herself out of bed. She didn’t bother getting dressed. She didn’t bother grabbing her keys. She didn’t even bother getting in the car. The graveyard was close enough to her home anyway. Bare foot and messy, the woman made her way across the street, down the block until she reached the dreaded area. She’d never been since the funeral, but she knew exactly how to get to his grave. It was one of the things that no matter how withered away she became she would always remember how to reach. Siting down on the wet grass she rested her head against the cool stone. “How could you fucking do this to me. How could you leave me like this. We were supposed to have everything…I miss you so much it hurts, Doug. It really fucking hurts.”
“You know we’re suppose to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”
She wanted to agree with him– there was a time she did, wholeheartedly. But now?? Times were dark and the future looked nothing but grim. Faith in the world, in herself, in HIM, was hard to manage. Coming from his mouth, it sounded so easy to believe, but he was full of pretty lies, and it was often hard for her to find the truth that was mixed in. She could believe him now, in this moment, but after he left, she was left to think about how WRONG he was, and how they just didn’t make sense. In what world could they possibly love each other? When would they be allowed such a thing? Never. “I love you. You know I do–But this, us? It can’t happen. You know it, and I know it. Stop making this harder than it needs to be and just let me end things between us. P l e a s e?”
“That’s it. End of discussion.”
Brows raised at how dismissive he was, her irritation soon developed into anger. Arms crossing over her torso in a huff, she shook her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to fathom how he could think he had the authority to end the discussion simply because HE wanted to. “No, Douglas. That’s not how it works. You don’t get that say. I’m just as much a person as you.” Despite his thoughts, how he’d been raised, she deserved to speak just as much as he. He couldn’t dismiss her words, he couldn’t dismiss H E R. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it wouldn’t happen. “No, fuck that– And I don’t like that you think you can make that call.”
“I could kill you right now!”
She wished he would. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take– everything hurt, and it could only get worse. His family had gotten wind of what they had, and at first she’d thought it’d be okay (( she’d prayed it would be )), but it hadn’t. They’d waited it out until the two had thought it passed. Without any idea of the hell that lay before them, the two had gotten swept up into a mess of trouble. Broken body lay in a heap at Doug’s feet, deserapte to shy away but too defeated to move. Breathing was a struggle in itself. It was only moments before his family came back into the room, before they made him use the curse on her once more. She was long passed begging him to kill her, the only noise passing through her lips by now ragged screams. She couldn’t muster words if she tried.
“You’ve never done this before?"
She really couldn’t understand his panic. It was entirely misplaced, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he didn’t TRUST her. There wasn’t a single ship she couldn’t pilot, and she’d be damned if she didn’t hold that record true today. (( Besides, getting this baby to fly would be something to hold over his head for ages )). “No! But how hard can it be? I’ve flown a B-wing/E before. This is nothing.” She didn’t bother to look over her shoulder as she responded, for a number of reasons–focus needing to be on her hands, but more than anything not wanting to see how bad his injuries were just yet. It had to be bad, she needed a fucking co-pilot, and he wouldn’t leave her confused out in the open like this knowing that unless he couldn’t. She needed to get this thing off the ground before they heard a big kaboom closer than they ever should. He was relying on her–she wouldn’t let him go out like this.
"Okay, good because I was starting to worry you might be in love with me."
Brow raised, followed by a short laugh and a roll of her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t sure what they had going, what this was?? But it’d swung out of f r i e n d l y territory a hell of a long time ago. They weren’t who they were when they started this, and their relationship wasn’t remotely the same either. Could she call it love? Yeah, probably. But would she? ABSOLUTELY NOT. (( And never to his face )). With a heavier hit than usual, her fist collided with his shoulder. “Don’t worry, i’m out of your league anyway–You haven’t got a chance.. Besides, I’ve got better things to do than fall for you, Dorvin.”
"You need anything else, you know where to find me.”
Admittedly he was good. Good with his hands. Good with filling in the gaps of knowledge she lacked. Especially good with making her crazy. She couldnt’ stand him. More often than not she wanted to smack the smug words right out of his mouth, a pre-emptive strike before he could test his fate with whatever ‘witty’ remark he had. Rolling her eyes (( an action as familiar as breathing at this point )), she struggled to bite down her commentary. It was always easier to leave it be, never eager for him to bite back, but she was a gambling woman, and she couldn’t help but play it risky. With a massive pull, she ripped away a few wires, metal parts enclosed around it. Dropping the useless item, turned to him, hands still in the mess that was her ship. “And why would I go looking for you? What can you offer me, Cato? Commentary I don’t need or want. Much appreciated, but i’ve got this handled.” Suddenly, a searing pain struck her palm, yanking her hand away, her eyes whipped to the source– a minor combustion. “Not a word.” she near shouted as she scrambled to take care of the mishap.
"If you weren’t half dead, I would kick your ass.“
Breath short, words forced, she struggled to keep her eyes open. “You couldn’t if you tried.” The laugh that followed caused a wince of pain, face contorted in regret and agony. She was better off not talking (( Not breathing, really. Everything hurt )). This is what they’d really signed up for. The never ending approach of death. She’d seen it before, up close and person, NOW more than ever, but she never expected herself to be on the receiving end of the final blow. She’d bargained for too much, thrown too many credits into the pile without realizing the bet was a loss. This was bigger than her, than what she was ready for, and she was paying the ultimate price now. She wanted to last it out, needed to more than anything. Who did Cato have if not her? It wasn’t fair of her to leave him, but who was she to deny that giving up now would be easier than fighting for it, only to meet this fate another day. Resting her head against his shoulder, she let out a shaky, slow breath. In secrecy, she hoped this would end soon, that no help would come. Her next words were quiet, hardly managed out. Maybe he could mistake them for something generic, rather than her true thoughts. “I’m sorry.”
“We should get a puppy!”
She didn’t bother hiding the excitement, a large smile spreading across her cheeks. To say that her relationship with Nate was an odd one was an understatement if any. He had been none to eager to start up a legitimate thing with her, (( admittedly, understandably so )), but things had been going well. The two had been ‘steady’ for a short while now, just recently moving in together, but this was something new. she couldn’t tell if he was serious, but she hoped he was. Although she was in school, it was online classes, and while he was away at work his house could be so lonely. A puppy would be the perfect thing for this household. Could she call it that yet? “I do really like dogs. And I wouldn’t mind taking care of them– It’d give me something to do while you’re away. I think that’d be really damn cool.”
“I’m gonna lay down and die for like half hour okay?”
With a sweet smile, she closed the space between her and the hotel bed. Although she didn’t personally understand how exhausting medical conventions could be, she felt the sympathy for him. Crawling into the bed and laying on top of him, she nodded in acknowledgement. “Let me know when you wanna come back to life, kay?”
“I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”
Awkwardly, she clasped her hands together, placing them in front of her body. He was always doing this to her– telling her it was wrong, what they had. Calling her a kid, saying they couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to prove that she wasn’t too young for him, that she could be just as mature as the other women he knew, that he’d been with. When he’d invited her over for dinner, she’d figured it was the perfect time, but she should’ve known better. She should’ve known what shit he would’ve pulled. With a heavy sigh, irritation clear in her voice, she turned to grab her sweater from the couch behind her.
“You never mean for ANYTHING to come out of anything, Nate.”
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I’m in a ridiculously sappy mood so: the “oh no he’s hot”, the “am I crushing??”, and “I’m in love” moment for val and skul individually
alkdfhldskfhladskfhlkd bless u moonie this was exactly the kind of cute i needed today
this post is three pages in word but contains no capital letters and minimal punctuation rip
VAL
oh no he’s hot:
“I know you are not about to strike my partner” is a big one. like a lot of the time, val basically wants skulduggery to butt out, she can handle herself and she doesn’t need any guy standing up for her. however! angry alpha skul is Hot and she does also kinda need his support at that point so
also: when she sees him in his war gear. leather. thigh holster. big badass sword. like. val would be dtf wartime general skul, hands down
(also like. in any resurrection!au, time travel!au or whatever where skuldug has a body, bedhead!skuldug gives val life)
am i crushing?
i mean i feel like val has had a lowkey crush on skulduggery since like, age 13, and she’s always been aware of it, and she’s embarrassed about it, and she refuses to admit it to anyone, but
she starts actually accepting it after davina marr calls her out. like, actually having someone bring it up to her in conversation - and tbh, the fact that marr didn’t like. mock her for it or tell her how disgusting it is to crush on skuldug - kind of pushes her to confront her own feelings.
and like tbh because she’s so young at this point her biggest concern isn’t that he wouldn’t feel the same, bc she doesn’t expect him to. she knows at that age that skul is Unavailable & it takes fuckin years for her to actually think of him as like. a dude that she could possibly have. but it terrifies her that he wouldn’t take her seriously. like. someone telling skuldug about her crush and then having him burst out laughing at her or give her the patronising “it happens to us all” talk would mortify her. Nobody Can Ever Know
aaaaand then ofc he’s back and completely insane and she has like six months or whatever of looking after him to deal with and anything else kind of gets pushed out of her mind bc he needs her very badly right now and like. she’s so glad to have him back. even if he’s nuts, she doesn’t care. & his wellbeing is very much a priority for her and her teenage feelings are very much not, so she just sort of leaves it be
i’m in love
so like. the obvious one is when she thinks he’s about to die and they’re standing in front of the accelerator and she blurts out that she loves him, but tbh i feel like she’s more concerned with realising she’s about to lose him than with ~the sudden realisation of her feelings~ so like
i’m really fond of the idea that while she’s in meek ridge she like, occasionally gets very lonely and tries out one night stands and makes some very bad decisions on tinder and like. bc she’s a detective, over the five years she realises that a) her one-night stands seem to fit a pattern (tall, charming, attractive voice) and b) she doesn’t really get anything out of them? because they’re just…poor substitutes for skulduggery. and like. the sex is one thing but afterwards if they want to cuddle or talk or whatever she gets really avoidant and like. kicks them out. because it’s really hitting her now that she’s got her rocks off that they’re not skulduggery, skulduggery is like four thousand miles away and she’s all on her own and maybe he won’t even be talking to her when she comes back - if she comes back - because she abandoned him and like
idk man i just feel like her Feelings™ hit her really hard at that point and she ends up eating her weight in pop tarts while listening to all his old voicemail messages
and then get jazzy on it happens once she’s realised this
SKUL
oh no she’s hot
when he sees val in her requiem ball dress that he bought. she just like. he doesn’t need to breathe but she takes his non-existent breath away. like skuldug has seen val in her standard ‘work clothes’ and he’s also seen her in ratty sweats and a dublin football jersey bc she does sleep over at his by this point, even if she’s on the couch, but like. the last time he saw her in a nice dress she was what, 13? and pouting, bc she didn’t want to be there, and she didn’t want to be wearing a dress, and she was mad at him
so like all of a sudden here she is and she’s very much a Young Woman and she looks all elegant and shit and hes just
like the tongue he doesn’t have stops working it’s not pretty
and by the time she actually gets to him bc girls take ages to walk anywhere in high heels he’s sorted himself out enough to be all smooth with the “you’re always beautiful”
also. vile has a massive one of these the first time he gets to fight darquesse, bc vile is a fuckin sadomasochist of epic proportions and dq trying to literally kill him is Hot, apparently, and it becomes considerably more difficult for skulduggery to like. dodge his feelings after that. because vile is not subtle. at all. and after that every time someone mentions darquesse/val vile-in-the-back-of-skulduggerys-head gets all ~excited~ and skul has to try and hush him so he can focus and like. vile knows you lyin skulduggery why you always lyin
am i crushing??
honestly i feel like the first time he asks himself this is when he’s ass-deep in ball gowns at the most expensive store google could recommend to him, trying to find something for her to wear to the requiem ball. like? he knows her well enough at this point to work out a) what would suit her and b) what she would like, without ever having seen her in a super posh dress before but girl clothes are hard
and like. at some point in the middle of umm-ing and aah-ing over whether val would prefer a sweetheart neckline or a round one, he does kind of pause and go wait, am i…?
because this is the kind of thing he’s always done for the special lady in his life. he shows affection by spending ridiculous amounts of money - he remembers feeling just as out of his depth in a 1700s dress shop looking for something for his wife as he does now, shopping for valkyrie. (although at least things were done by measurements back then…what on earth is a ‘size 12′?)
but then the woman who’s been bringing him dresses for the past twenty minutes helpfully tells him the exorbitant price tag of the one he’s holding and points out that the young lady in question will also need shoes and (potentially) appropriate underwear and his wallet and his brain are both screaming but he wants val to feel like the prettiest girl in the room at the ball and he forgets all about it tbh bc he’s Stressed
it comes up again a year later while he’s getting his house done up for val, and this time, he takes it seriously. it’s costing him an inordinate amount of money, and he’s doing it purely so that he can spend more time with her. so that she can sleep in her own bed at his house, and make her own meals in the kitchen if she wants to, and not have to go home when she needs to shower. so that he can keep her with him when she’s hurt, where he knows she’s safe. so that he’s got like. the noise and clutter and all that nonsense that she brings into his home. he wants her to have a home with him.
and like. skul’s old. he’s been here before, he knows he’s got The Feelings. like he’s mad, bc he promised himself No More Feelings, but, eh. that is a lost battle.
and he’s been gently flirting with her since the requiem ball, but he’s doing his best to ignore that
i’m in love
when he goes to pick her up from america. he’s had five years of being…not quite right. and like, he knows it’s because val isn’t there with him, he knows he misses her, he knows he wishes she’d come home, but he doesn’t realise quite how badly he’s been doing until he’s on her front porch looking at her and she’s looking at him and everything just. falls right back into place. like he’s home now.
it’s the same feeling he used to get when he’d come home from the front and his wife’s face would just light up at the sight of him even though he hadn’t bathed properly in days or longer and he looked horrific
like she literally is his home at this point, he’d probably have done better if he’d gone to america with her rather than be without her for that long
(basically, everyone else knew skulduggery was in love before skulduggery did.)
#mooncactus#valdug#like seriously don't read this if yall dont like valdug bc its SMUSHY]#and i have FEELINGS#I AM HAVING AN E M O T I O N#sp headcanons#skulduggery pleasant
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What we need. What we have.
Anon: Hi Han, please could you write a story. It’s a bit of a jumble but I have this idea of Mickey maybe trying to get someones wallet or maybe like a sweater back to them and Ian being a bit of a pest wanting sex but Mickey is trying to do a good deed? IDK. Please try if you think it might be good. Thank you! Love all your work so much! xxx
“Hey! I found a wallet!”
Iggy dropped down onto the sofa next to Ian and snatched the video controller out of his hand.
“Oh yeah? Any money in it?”
Ian cupped his now empty hands around a joint and lit up contentedly. Iggy shook his head and tossed it over Ian into Mickey’s lap.
“Nah, but it’s quality. Might get a couple bucks for it.”
Mickey plucked the joint out from between Ian’s lips and stuck it between his own, earning himself a scowl
“Jesus. Does anyone in this family ever ask for anything?”
“No.”
Both Milkovich’s smirked in unison and Ian shook his head, suppressing a small smile.
“Assholes.”
Mickey quirked an eyebrow at the insult but didn’t respond as he opened the wallet and began prodding through the contents.
There was an old photo, two men stood side by side, arms around each others shoulders. There was something about the pose that didn’t strike Mickey as being merely friendly. It was too intimate, their bodies pressed too close. He flipped the picture over and read the note on the back
‘Jack and Jim. August 1977. Love is Love.’
“Where’d you find this?”
He asked, passing Iggy the joint.
“Over on Newly Avenue. Was just lyin’ there. Weird.”
“Why weird?”
Ian let Iggy have a couple of puffs and then reclaimed his smoke. He didn’t mind sharing but Iggy could be like a human chimney with weed and Ian wanted to get good and baked and take Mickey into the bedroom for an afternoon of really filthy sex. The kind that would leave his boyfriend close to exhaustion, his lips swollen and sore and his body quivering on the bed, too wiped out to even clean himself up, letting Ian pamper him without complaint.
“Because it was like no one else could see it. You drop a wallet it normally gets snatched up like fuckin’ birdseed.”
“Birdseed?”
Ian spluttered, handing the joint back to Mickey who waved it away, once again rifling through the compartments in the little black leather pouch.
“Yeah like cause people are like birds and they swarm free shit.”
Iggy grinned around the joint as Ian dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Doesn’t have an address in it.”
Mickey mumbled causing Iggy to frown at him.
“Well they’re clumsy, not stupid. If it had an address I’d have gone round and roughed the asshole up for a reward.”
Mickey gave his brother an impatient look and stood up.
“I’m headin’ over there. You wanna come?”
“What? No! Don’t ...”
Ian scrabbled to his feet, following Mickey to the door
“C’mon. No one is giving you a reward for an empty wallet Mickey.”
Mickey switched his impatient look to his boyfriend and shook his head
“I don’t want a fuckin’ reward and it ain’t empty. It’s got personal stuff in it. Someone might need it.”
“What?”
Ian scrunched his face up, confused
“Since when do you give a shit about stuff like that?”
“I … fuck you. You comin’ or not?”
“Fine. But I was hoping we’d spend the afternoon in bed. Together. Naked...”
“I can fuckin’ hear you!”
Iggy called over his shoulder and then returned the middle finger that he didn’t have to look to know his brother was giving him.
“Yeah well. Newly ain’t far. We can do whatever nasty shit you want later.”
Ian pouted and zipped his hoodie up firmly
“How’d you know it was gonna be nasty? Might have been sweet.”
Mickey snorted and held the front door open, ushering Ian out
“Not likely when you’re stoned. You always want to get your tongue right in ...”
“STILL FUCKING HEAR YOU!!!”
Iggy roared and Mickey slammed the door firmly behind him.
*
They walked the couple of blocks to Newly in relative silence. Mickey had the wallet in his pocket and kept his hand on it possessively. Ian slung his arm around Mickey’s shoulders once they were a little way away from the Milkovich house and Mickey let him do it which was a surprise. A pleasant surprise but still …
“You Okay?”
“Yep.”
“Sure?”
“Yep.”
Ian rolled his eyes and moved his arm, letting it fall in a clumsy arc to slap his palm teasingly on Mickey’s ass.
“Fuck sake! We’re in public, Ian.”
“Not my fault that ass won’t quit.”
Mickey’s lip quirked upwards but he tongued away the smile and shook his head
“You’re a fuckin’ pervert.”
“Says the guy licked jello off my nipples last night.”
“You fuckin’ put it there!”
Ian grinned wickedly and leant in close enough for his breath to tickle Mickey’s ear
“Wasn’t me who smeared it over my ass.”
Mickey glanced around furtively but the street was empty.
“Also, it’s not me who likes things to get a bit rough.”
“The Hell it isn’t!”
Mickey stopped dead, making Ian have to back track to him with a shy smile on his face
“Well ...”
Ian considered whilst Mickey looked up at him with utter incredulity
“Do I need to list every damn time you’ve left a bruise on me?”
“No … I mean, it might be fun but you don’t need to. Maybe just tell me about the ones you enjoyed most?”
Mickey narrowed his eyes at Ian. The redhead was far too handsome for any of his expressions to be called a ‘leer’ but the one on his face was damn close. The difficulty was that despite Mickey’s outrage his treacherous body was reacting all too warmly to Gallagher’s nonsense.
“You’re an asshole. And a pervert.”
Mickey managed finally, shoving Ian lightly and thumbing his lip to quell a smile that would undermine what little dignity he had left.
Ian danced around him as Mickey continued walking, every now and then darting out one strong hand or the other to touch Mickey lightly, mostly on his butt, and ask
“The one I left here?”
“How about here?”
“This one?”
Mickey shook his head, desperately trying not to either laugh or shove his boyfriend into oncoming traffic.
“I’m gonna leave a real good one on you later.”
He growled as Ian bounced in and touched Mickey’s nipple through his shirt, raising his eyebrows in silent question.
“Promise? Leave more than one.”
“Jesus, Gallagher.”
“Aww come on, I can handle whatever you can give.”
Mickey gave in and smiled down at his boots. The thought of beating Ian was, at that exact moment, rather appealing but not really something Mickey was likely to be able to do and they both fuckin’ knew it.
“You ain’t handlin’ shit, Firecrotch.”
“Is it because you just want to be sweet to me? Treat me nice?”
“Right now? No.”
Mickey glanced around again but didn’t protest as Ian stepped in again, pressing his chest flush to Mickey’s.
“You want to be good for me, huh?”
“What the fuck, man?”
Mickey could feel the colour creeping into his cheeks. They were in the middle of an empty street, in broad daylight and Ian seemed about ready to have him right there. His hands gripped Mickey’s upper arms tightly and his eyes focussed intently on Mickey’s own deep blue iris’.
“I’ve been real bad, Mick. I need you to teach me a lesson. You can’t always be sweet to me.”
Ian purred, his lips grazing Mickey’s earlobe.
“Okay, but maybe not right here?”
He raised his eyebrows in warning and Ian finally bit his lip a little guiltily and stepped back, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Sorry. Got carried away.”
“Yeah, kinda.”
Mickey gave him a final ‘what the fuck’ look and then shrugged. He loved it when Ian told him exactly what he needed and Mickey loved to please him, whatever that looked like on any given day.
“I mean … uh … you’ve started something now, you know? I’m gonna have to sort you out later and you’re gonna have to deal with that.”
Ian’s embarrassed scowl lightened into another slightly cheeky grin.
“Yeah?”
“Oh definitely. You’re done, Gallagher.”
Ian bit his lip and his eyes lit with expectation but mercifully he seemed content to just revel in what Mickey had said rather than demanding more. Mickey huffed out a heavy breath and gave Ian a side-on look before dismissing it as him just being a horny eighteen year old. There had been some weird shit lately but Ian had been stressed. Svetlana, money, South Side … all of it. It was fucking hard, Mickey knew that. If Ian wanted something to release that tension – a bit of blood on his lips, having someone push his buttons, or getting his ass whooped, well shit. Mickey understood that and was more than happy to oblige.
*
As they turned onto Newly, Mickey squeezed the wallet in his pocket a little tighter. There was a lady rummaging through her bags and a couple of kids hanging out on bikes but not the sort of person he was looking for.
“What’s the plan?”
Ian asked and Mickey shrugged, irritated with himself for not having a plan.
“I guess walk up to the end of the street, walk back down, if no one is looking for a wallet, toss the fucker in the trash.”
“Cool.”
Ian nodded, falling easily into step beside his boyfriend. Mickey smiled slightly to himself. This was one of the things he liked most about Ian. He could be a bossy, inappropriate asshole one minute but then when Mickey needed him to shut the fuck up and just go with something, he was always down for it. Whatever stupid fucking thing it was, Ian would do it if Mickey was doing it. He wasn’t afraid or ashamed to help. Mickey valued that kind of loyalty very highly and hoped he could return it at least a little.
He licked his lips, looked around once, and then squared his shoulders and grabbed Ian’s ass cheek in a tight, full palmed grip, hard enough to know that the skin beneath the denim was bleaching white around the outline of his fingers before flushing pink.
“And don’t fuckin’ distract me while we’re doing it. You’re in enough shit.”
Ian looked momentarily shocked and then a slow, sexy smile spread across his face. Mickey tightened his grip, making Ian wince.
“The fuck you smiling at?”
“Nothin’. Sorry.”
Ian physically wiped the smile from his face and Mickey nodded, releasing him. Ian walked a little closer, his arm brushing lightly against Mickey’s, and there was a definite spring in his step but clearly Mickey had got the game right as Ian just walked, saying nothing.
*
They walked up one side and had just started to come down another when Mickey saw a guy up ahead peering intently at shrubs and in gutters. He couldn’t see his face but hadn’t actually studied the photo that much so doubted it would help anyway.
“Hey. You lose something?”
The guy looked up wearily
“I don’t want any trouble, son.”
“Me neither. You lose something?”
Mickey gripped the wallet a little harder. He thought it might have been the dude on the left but he really didn’t know.
“Yeah. My wallet.”
Mickey looked over his shoulder and tongued his lip, pulling it out of his pocket. Ian startled and gave Mickey a confused look which his boyfriend ignored.
“This one?”
He held it out and the older man’s face lit up.
“Holy shit! Yes! That’s the one.”
He reached out for it and then stopped looking at Mickey cautiously
“Go ahead, it’s yours. Ain’t got any money in it though.”
“Ha. Never had any to begin with. Thank you. Truly. Thank you.”
Mickey shrugged. Now that the deed was done he just wanted to get out of there and head home with Ian.
“It’s cool. I figured you’d want what is in there anyway.”
The man, Jack or Jim, pulled out the photo and glanced between Mickey and Ian with a knowing smile.
“Love is love, boys.”
“Yeah well. See ya.”
Mickey didn’t look back at Jack/Jim but Ian did and saw the little picture.
“Aww Mick.”
“What?”
“We walked all the way over so you could get that guy his picture back?”
Ian’s voice was all soft and hopeful and … proud? Jesus. Mickey gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together.
“Why? I mean it’s so nice of you but why?”
“Because ...”
Mickey looked around, more furtively than he had when Ian had been talking dirty to him, more cautiously than before he grabbed Ian’s ass and then, satisfied no one could hear them, he murmured
“Cause I have a photo in my wallet too. Fuckin’ suck if I lost it.”
“You do?”
Ian cocked his head to the side and Mickey nodded
“Yeah.”
“What’s it of?”
“Mind your own fuckin’ business!”
*
Later that night, with Mickey passed out in bed and Ian trying to find a comfortable position to sleep after then delightfully thorough working over his boyfriend had given him, reminding Ian exactly of the capabilities of the man he fell for, Ian slipped out of bed.
He picked Mickey’s pants up and patted the pockets until he found his wallet.
Under the light of his cellphone, Ian pulled out the folded photo and after one final guilty look at Mickey’s sleeping form, unfolded it.
“Aww Mick.”
He whispered. He wondered if he still had that beanie, or that shirt and made a mental note to find both if he could and wear them the next night ... and be as sweet to Mickey as he could be. He had everything he needed and things he had not even known he wanted. And Ian wanted Mickey to be able to say the same.
#shameless#Shameless US#shameless fanfiction#Ian Gallagher#ian x mickey#mickey milkovich#iggy milkovich#Gallavich#love
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