#YEEHAW!!!! never a dull fucking moment
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ayyyyy guess who got locked out of their own house ✨✨✨
#i turned around from bringing out the cans and my stepdad went 'i left the keys inside'#YEEHAW!!!! never a dull fucking moment#im trying to get him to ask a neighbor if they have anything that can help#but hes being stubborn as fuck about it#absolutely unprompted#we'll see we'll see
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Tk and play wrestling from the physical affection prompts 👉👈 please
ah thanks for stopping by 🥰 i love one yeehaw gremlin
14. play wrestling
There’s never a dull moment with Travis.
He’s always the life of the party, so by extension you are too. It doesn’t bother you the way you thought it would when the two of first got together, and now that it’s been nearly four years you’re used to it. The two of you are often the first to arrive at a function and the last to leave it. Travis just likes to have fun, and with how hard he works he deserves it.
It’s early September and everyone is arriving back in Philadelphia. Training camp starts in a few weeks – from what you gather the boys are amped up and are really going to try for a cup run. You’re just enjoying the late summer in Philadelphia with the other partners, and you don’t mind having to fight for a spot in line to babysit the young ones.
The Giroux’s were nice enough to host a team barbeque before life gets too crazy, and it’s where you currently find yourself. Upon arriving you ditched Travis to swoon over the newest generation of Flyers fans but you know he’s probably raising hell and failing at convincing Claude to let him man the grill. You’re so involved with the babies that you don’t notice he’s organized something akin to a pay-per-view game of chicken. There are shouts from the other corner of the yard but you pay them no mind, assuming one of the rookies isn’t shotgunning his drink up to standard.
“Hey baby,” Travis says as he sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms securely around your waist.
You smile at the contact and lean into him. “Hi.”
“There’s, uh, currently a bet running that I can beat you in chicken in under a minute.”
“Is that so?” you hum. “May I ask you started this bet?”
Travis laughs. “It was obviously me.” His comment has you turning to face him and quirking a brow in his direction. “We’re at nearly $200. Everyone has put in something. What do you say?”
“Who gets the money if I win?” you ask, seriously considering partaking.
“Provy.”
His answer is enough to convince you, so you leave your group and head towards the swarm of cheering men. It takes a minute to calm them down but eventually they settle. You get the rundown on rules and the safety speech Claude insisted on giving, which you find endearing. It’s you versus Travis, and if he doesn’t knock you into the water within a minute you win. The people holding the two of you aren’t allowed to have their own battle. They’re simply just there to facilitate the bet. When all the bases are covered you’re allowed to pick your partners.
“I want Nolan,” you say, pointing your finger at him for good measure. He gives you an intense hi-five and laughs when Travis gets upset. Obviously, he wanted to use his best friend.
“Fine,” he grumbles, “I get Kevin.” The Bostonian is ecstatic to be involved in the festivities.
The four of you are in the pool seconds later, getting situated and ready to face off. Nolan asks if you have a plan, but you shrug and let him know that all you have to do to win is strike before Travis gets comfortable. It’s a good enough plan for him and you slip onto his shoulders while Travis climbs on top of Kevin’s.
On the pool deck, Claude is standing with a whistle and a stopwatch, trying his best to make it as official as possible. “Alright,” he says. “The clock starts now!”
With that, you blow Travis a quick kiss and immediately lunge to make contact with his stomach. Your shot is blocked, but Travis can’t get a strong enough grip on your shoulders to throw you off his friend. Thinking on your feet, you adjust your approach. You signal for Nolan to pull back and he does so carefully, trying to keep your balance. Travis yells at Kevin to follow you and leans into the attack. His centre of gravity is just misplaced enough that it only takes placing both of your hands on his right shoulder and shoving lightly to make him topple into the water. It’s a miraculously large splash, and you shout in victory.
“Fuck,” Travis groans as he resurfaces. You giggle at his reaction to losing and hop off Nolan’s shoulders. Making your way over to where he’s standing, you splash him gently before pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Think of it as a consolation prize,” you grin.
Travis rolls his eyes but pulls you in for another one anyways.
☼☼☼☼
it’s blurb weekend :))
#i literally hate chicken but this was all i could come up with lmao#travis konecny blurb#travis konecny imagine#philadelphia flyers imagine#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#hockey blurb#hockey imagine#blurb weekend!#cwrites
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Golden
SORRY FOR THE WEIRD SCHEDUALE RIGHT NOW!!!!
Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.
Characters belong to @lumosinlove
Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi
TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe
Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):
Chapter 11:
Monsters
I Think I’m Okay
Clay looked so good, and it was making Noelle feel some type of way. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm over the arm of the couch by his head while his other hand was holding his phone. The leg on the inside of the couch was straight and his other was bent. He was wearing a pair of running shorts that he only wears at home that are just a little snug around his thighs. He was wearing a shirt that was old and well worn, it was short enough that it rested above his belly button, showing off his happy trail that Noelle can’t help but follow down with her eyes as she finishes sorting some clothes that she wants to donate.
Thomas and Noelle haven’t done anything sexual with Clay yet because they want to have a talk about boundaries and everything before they just… jump into sex. But, she was reaching her limit, Clay has been driving her insane lately. Even if it is little things that he doesn’t mean to be sexy, it makes her have to take a breath and calm down a little. Sometimes she even has to leave the room to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts.
She couldn’t take it anymore though, she was at the edge. She stands up and walks over to him, standing in front of him she puts her hands in her sweatpant pockets and just looks down at him. Waiting for him to look up at her.
“What’s up, Buttercup?” He clicks his phone off and puts it on his chest, putting both his hands behind his head and smiling up at her with his stupidly sweet smile. She swallows the cotton feeling in her mouth. She doesn’t say anything, she just straddles him, obviously taking him by surprise from the way his hands flew to her hips. “Feeling lonely?” He is rubbing his thumbs up and down on her hips in soothing circles as he looks at her full of adoration.
Making her stomach flutter.
Smiling, she leans down and kisses him. He returns the smile and the kiss, he expects it to stay gentle and innocent like all their kisses have been. But he is surprised when she grabs his face and deepens the kiss. Soon they are in a heated make out. Noelle is pulling his head by his hair into deeper and more intense kisses. Their tongues dance around each other but Noelle is in control. They pull away just far enough that they are basically breathing each other in, Noelle has this wild look in her eye that makes Clay feel hot all over. That dull heat all over turns into a sharp spike of heat when she starts kissing by his ear and whispers.
“I want to fuck you.”
He pulls away and looks her in the eyes again, it sends a shiver of excitement straight to his groin. Clay is someone who loves being used, loves being submissive, and thinks he loves her as well. His brain is almost gone into a submissive state but he picks her up and carries her to Thomas’ room. He sets her down on her feet next to the bed.
“You really want to fuck me?” He takes his shirt off and sits on the bed. Looking up at her with his big brown eyes in a way he knows drives people insane. Especially people like Noelle. She nods and walks towards him, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him so he lays down. Her hand travels down to his waistband with featherlight touches, she looks up at him for permission to take his shorts off and he gives it to her.
She yanks them off him and just about pulls him off the side of the bed, causing both of them to laugh, leaning down for a couple of kisses, Clay pulls her tank top off as she pulls away.
“You’re beautiful.” He looks at her and places one of his hands on her ribs and pulls her closer so she is straddling his waist. He smiles at her and sits up a little so he can start kissing on her collarbones and chest, he remembers Thomas mentioning how sensitive her boobs are. He smiles and wraps his arms around her waist as he starts showing her boobs some attention, she starts to squirm but doesn’t pull away, instead hugging his head to keep his face in her chest.
He loves boobies.
After a while she reaches around and grabs his wrists and pins him to the bed, so they are face to face.
“Let’s get you ready for me to fuck you, yeah? I can already feel just how much you’re dripping for me.” She smirks at him as she runs a finger up his shaft of his leaking cock. He swallows down a moan but his breathing starts picking up. “Get comfy while I go get some things.” She gives him a kiss and gets off the bed, wandering into the closet to get her things.
She comes back after a few minutes with a couple of fun things. First off, she is wearing a bright pink strap-on the dick is dark dark fuchsia and it was about the same size as Clay.
She also tosses a bottle of oil based lube on the bed and crawls over to him. Laying down between his legs and giving his thighs a few kisses.
“Have you ever been fucked before?” Clay was watching her but not answering as he had mostly slipped into his submissive state of mind. So, she pushes herself up and looks at him with a serious look. “Answer me Clay.”
“Yes, I have. Only once because I’m usually with women, who don’t want… this.” He gestures between them as Noelle rubs his thigh and grabs the lube. “Have you fucked Thomas before?” He watches her fingers rub together to warm up the lube as she starts lowering her fingers towards his entrance.
“Not Thomas, I’ve asked but he has never been into it. But… I have fucked a few people before and have been wanting to do it since. This strap is very special, not only does it go into you and make you feel good.” She bites her lip as she slips a finger into Clay who is nice and relaxed as well as extremely horny. “It also goes into me and makes me feel good.” She smirks as Clay takes a shaky breath as she starts moving her finger in and out of him.
“Fuck, really? That's uh- so hot!” It has been a few minutes and Noelle has added in another finger and is curling them to press into his prostate. She definitely knows what she is doing. Clay moves his hands under his thighs and grips them to pull them up higher. He hears Noelle curse under her breath and he whines, arching his back as she adds another.
“You’re doing so good for me baby, so amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Noelle watches as a flush appears in Clay’s chest and a sappy smile rushes onto his face. She moves her hips a bit so the dildo that is in her attached to the strap relieves her with some pleasure for a moment.
“Noelle.” Clay calls for her attention and she looks into his eyes and sees he is in another place. “Please, I need you.” She kisses his hip hiding her smiles and slides her fingers out of him, she grabs the lube again and pours it onto the dildo and spreads it over the plastic appendage. She smiled and happened to take a look at the clock.
“I think it’s time to call Thomas, is that okay?” Clay nods, she grabs her phone and was first going to just call him but decided that facetiming him would be more effective. She sets the ringing phone right next to them and teases Clay by tracing his entrance with the dildo. Thomas answers and she enters Clay, holding his hip and slowly pressing in, until Clay grabs her ass and pulls her in harder. He moans loud and Noelle joins him as she is also fucked.
She tries to talk to Thomas but his connection is too bad. So he hangs up and calls back with a normal call. She answers.
“Hi!” Noelle answers, out of breath and panting. “I was trying to facetime you to show you something beautiful but sadly we don’t have a good connection. Sad~.” Noelle purrs into Clay’s ear, which is also right next to the phone as she continues to slowly pull out and push in, groaning quietly herself.
“I- What are you doing? You have your sexy voice on!” She smiles and feels Clay wraps his arms around her and his legs as she starts moving fast, causing his moaning to get louder and squeezing her with every jolt of pleasure he feels from her grazing his prostate.
“Mm I’m doing Clay.” She smirks and nips at Clay's jaw. “You know what I meant right~ I’m doing Clay.” She hears fumbling on the line and knows Thomas is taking off his clothes. She whispers to Clay. “Let him hear how pretty you sound. Let him know you’re here.”
“T-Thomas! Ugh-ah I-I FUck.” Noelle would thrust in deeper or harder when he would try to speak and watch as his eye would roll back in his head. She herself was starting to feel herself getting closer to the edge and she knows Thomas doesn’t last long in bed. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck- FUCK!” Clay was gripping onto her anyplace he could, his back was starting to arch, his toes were curling on her back where his ankles were crossed.
“You sound so good, Clay.” Thomas was getting off to this by the sound of his voice and the random groans they could hear. Noelle taps Clay’s arm so he loosens them and takes him by surprise by pinning his biceps to the bed and starting to pound into him, hard and fast, but not too deep. Clay starts basically screaming, Noelle’s moans weren’t any quieter, both focused on their own orgasm’s getting cloers as Thomas listened and imagined what was happening.
Noelle and Clay start to sloppily make out as they get close, Noelle actually breaks first. As she is cuming she pounds into Clay, riding out her waves. Causing Clay to fall over the edge completely untouched and the hardest he has ever came.
Thomas muffled himself with his hand a few seconds after Clay. All of them panting, Noelle having collapsed onto Clay who is still out of it but is petting her hair.
“You two- are going to kill me.” Thomas huffs over the line, causing Noelle and Clay to smile. “What brought this on?” His phone call was becoming spotty and they don’t know if it was like that the whole time or if it was just starting.
“I was horny.” Noelle laughs a little as Thomas makes fun of her. “Your call is starting to break up, Doll.” Thomas said a glitchy goodbye after a while, staying with Clay as Noelle cleaned them up and made sure Clay was alright.
Noelle hasn’t been in this good of a mood in a while.
Leo and Clay knock on the door of Reg’s house, waiting patiently for their bestie to open the door. When Reg opens the door he is met with a rather uncomfortable looking Clay leaning against Leo who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face.
“Ummmm, did I miss something?” Leo’s grin gets even bigger as Clay turns red.
“Well-”
“Noelle fucked Clay so hard he can’t stand properly.” Leo cuts Clay off and receives a backhand to the stomach causing him to fold over a bit as he laughs. Reg can’t help but snort at them too. Walking, or limping, into the house the trio makes their way to the kitchen where a makeshift barber shop was set up.
“Okay so, Leo, you just want your head shaved right?” Leo nods and sits on the chair as he is scrolling through Finn and Logan’s joint tik tok account. Reg has noticed that's a coping mechanism for him when he isn’t around his boys. He can still see and feel the love from them even when they aren’t there.
Yes, Leo has somehow gotten the whole tiktok community to think he is homophobic… because he always duets their tiktoks in a way of making fun of them in a way they all know is just leo missing them, but some people don’t see it that way.
Like dueting their coming out video with him shoving popcorn in his mouth and then spitting it out when they kiss and acting disgusted and offended.
Leo lets Reg work on shaving his hair off while his eyes are closed and he just enjoys the chitter-chatter of his friends while his head becomes lighter physically and emotionally because his boys come back home tomorrow night.
They are coming back to him, willingly.
Leo is brought out of his meditative mindset when Reg pokes his head right above his left temple and says something that Leo misses.
“Huh?”
“You have a strawberry on your head.” Reg smiles at him and pokes his tattoo again.
“Oh yeah! I always forget I have that one until I shave my head again.” He smiles as he takes the mirror from Reg and looks at his hair and said tattoo. “I got it… in Georgia after I lost a bet. It’s my sweetest tattoo.” He hands the mirror back and Clay narrows his eyes at the chair from where he was leaning against the counter.
“Do I have to sit? Leo is taller than me and Eloise usually cuts my hair soooooo…. I vote he does it.” Clay sends them his usual blinding smile that convinces way too many people into giving him what he wants.
“Fine, but I can’t promise it will be good.”
“Thomas can always fix it.” The little smile that tugs at Clay’s lips is frankly adorable in Leo’s opinion. Leo has been with Clay through all his ‘relationships’ and no one has ever made Clay react like that.
He deserves to be this happy.
Leo gets to work on Clay’s hair, Clay usually gets the normal short on all sides and long on top. The top of his hair that he likes to have longer needs a trim though, so Leo lets Reg tell him what to do because they have been cutting their own hair since they were 12 because his parents said barbers and hairdressers were dirty.
Does Leo shave a bit too high in the back?
Maybe…
Does he tell Clay?
Nope! Because it’s kinda funny.
“What's the plan for your hair Reg? It looks nice long, honestly. 10/10 would smash. But, you said you had an idea but wouldn’t tell us.” Leo hops on the counter next to where Clay is leaning and causally bumps Clay a little. Making him catch himself and jolt a little from the soreness of his booty. Which again, bring on another smack to the stomach.
“I think.. I want a mullet.”
“The country lifestyle has really taken over you!” The two yeehaws high five and whoop a little.
“Non! I want a more, I don’t know, punkish maybe alternative style mullet? Does that make sense?” When the response is crickets Reg decides to pull of the photo of the man he saw with this hairstyle. “Make sense?”
“I think so, but your hair is curly and his isn’t so it isn’t going to look the same.”
“No shit Clay.”
“I was just saying!”
Reg smiles and rolls his eyes, Leo takes his phone. Looking closer at the picture he looks at Reg and then back at the picture.
“You can definitely pull this off. Let’s do it!” Setting the phone on the counter and hoping back off Leo pushes Reg down in the chair and gets to work. After cutting the first strand of hair he asks Clay to stand in front of Reg and hold the phone so he can look at the picture and work on the hair. Asking Reg how to do certain techniques.
Once the last cut is done, Leo once again looks at the picture and back at Reg.
“I think I did it…? I tried my best, dude.” Clay hands Reg the mirror. Holding the mirror up and looking at himself, Reg notices a few odd cuts but his hair is so curly that is styled right no one would notice. He feels this feeling, he doesn’t know what it is, but it fills his tummy and makes him feel like the person in the mirror is really him.
“I love it, I really really love it.” They stand and hug Leo, taking him off guard but Leo hugs back in the tight way he always does.
“I’m very happy I didn’t fuck it up. Also, point to me for making you happy enough to hug me.” They pull away and Reg can’t help but look at himself in the mirror again. He’s just waiting to look again and his hair is back to the military style cut he has had his whole life. It never does though.
“We should probably clean up, maybe we could sell our hair online and get some money.” Clay is looking into the closet where all the brooms are and pulling out three. “I would like to make it at least twenty more years before I keel over and if your brother sees this mess.. I give us two minutes after he gets home.” Tossing a broom at Leo, he does catch it, but accidentally hits the mirror out of Reg’s hand and it smashes to the ground. Loud enough to hear the mirror break.
Oh shit.
“Leo! That’s seven years of bad luck!” Leo rolls his eyes, Reg always talks about superstitions and Leo being the smart man he is. Doesn’t believe in them.
“Reg, that's not real. I have broken many mirrors and have never had bad luck.” He starts cleaning up the glass with said broom, he makes a pile of glass and hair. Going to grab a dust pan he just does his thing while he feels two sets of eyes on him. “What?”
“Leo, you literally have the worst luck.”
“No I don’t! Now get to cleaning maid boy!” Clay flips him off.
“I’m gonna turn on music as we clean like the children of god we are, after we should make food because I’m a hungry bitch.” Reg is tapping on his phone and turns on Monsters by All time Low, before grabbing his own ‘broom’ which is the only one left.. The little hand broom, so they are on their knees like Cinderella.
Leo walks into the apartment, it's empty, obviously. He sets his keys on the counter, automatically turning on some music from the same station he was listening to at Reg’s while they made dinner and cleaned up. He sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone for a bit, just mindlessly looking at things when he gets a text from his mom.
Text from: Mother Goose
8:27pm
Hi Merigold, I wanted to text you and tell you about how my check up went. I meant to do it a while ago but forgot when Peanut decided to try and eat my hair while I was grooming him. I was told I need to get another aid for my right ear because my hearing has deteriorated too much for me not to have one anymore. So now your mama is definitely going to start learning ASL, I think you should too.
8:29pm
Mama you know I don’t want to learn how to sign
8:29pm
But I’ll try for you
8:30pm
Thank you Goldie Locks! I need to go do my beauty routine before heading to bed! Peanut and I miss you baby.
Image.4457
Leo smiles at the picture of his mom sticking her tongue out in the same way Peanut is in the photo, he misses them a lot and it was really really hard the first week he was living here because he couldn’t take Peanut out and just escape the world.
But now he copes by letting Logan color in his back tattoo with scented markers as Finn lets him rest his head on his lap while he reads to them. Leo has learned that Logan shows his love in many different ways, but his favorite is drawing on the people he loves.
Connecting Finn’s shoulder freckles into shapes.
Coloring in Leo’s back piece.
Drawing a mustache on Sirius when he is asleep in random places.
He paints the Dumias’ kids nails and ‘tattoos’ them with a washable marker. Ever since they met Leo and Clay they have been interested in tattoo’s, having never seen Logan’s own tattoo.
Randomly drawing tiny smiley faces with an ink pen on his teammates.
Once he colored Dumo’s toes orange while he was sleeping on the couch while Celeste and the kids watched.
He writes little quotes on Celeste's left palm.
He can’t express his feelings with words, so he does with actions instead. Leo loves it, Logan has never colored the tattoo on his back in the same way more than once, and it always looks beautiful.
Fuck… He misses them. Then remembers the game is on live right now, so he turns it on to watch his boys play against Ravenclaw. He ends up falling asleep as Kuny gets interviewed in the locker room.
He will see them tomorrow.
#leo knut#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#james potter#thomas walker#Clayton Bruss#o'knutzy#o’knutzy#lumosinlove#sweater weather#coast to coast
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FIC: A Learning Experience (spicyhoney standalone)
Summary: Yeah, sure, Edge wasn't that experienced with sex, but once upon a time he hadn't known how to make a soufflé either. All he needed was a little practice.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Lemon Goodness, Oral Sex, Bad Sex, It gets better!, Embarrassment, Brief Scene of Stretch with Another Partner
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"look, it's okay if you don't like it. you know that, right?"
“I am aware, thank you.” The words were stiffly said and a quick glance confirmed that Edge was standing behind him instead of sitting at the kitchen table, spine ramrod straight like he’d taken this moment to shove the broomstick back up his ass as fortification. Not that Stretch blamed him, nah, his latest fuck buddy had his pride and his prejudice had just taken one hell of a blow.
So, Stretch turned back to the countertop to give him a minute. Busied his hands making tea, pouring the steaming liquid into the delicate cups before doctoring them up. A good dollop of honey for his own, thick and sweet, and it’d surprised him to learn Edge took his with plenty of sugar and milk, like a child playing grown up, but there was nothing childish about their conversation. Blue would probably be horrified that Stretch was using his good tea set as a backdrop for this little chat, but eh, may as well be civilized about it. "seriously, it’s fine. not everyone likes giving head.”
Truer words might never have been spoken and having to clean the carpet after someone jerked back to gag on it wasn’t exactly a huge turn-on, sure, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Edge seemed to think. Like Stretch’s carpet hadn’t had worse on it and as recently as that morning before he’d cleaned his room in anticipation of some action tonight. It was only a little used magic, so what. Shit happened, or vomit in this case, it was fine, they could stick to the pussy side of things for now and revisit the idea of cock later, maybe. Stretch was kinda hoping someday they’d laugh about all this. That was, if he could persuade Edge not to swear off sex entirely; right now, his body language was locked up tight like one giant chastity belt.
Stretch pushed the second, murky cup over in offering before picking up his own and taking a sip. “i know you haven't done much of this before, but this is supposed to be fun, edgelord. i don't expect you to do things that make you uncomfortab—ohhh.”
The sudden touch of a mouth against the back of Stretch's neck sent that thought process back to the starting line. Guess Edge decided to unlock that chastity belt early and Stretch let his head drop down until his chin touched his chest, allowing Edge access to the delicate bones of his cervical vertebrae. His mouth was wet, still a little cool from thoroughly rinsing it out after the blowjob debacle. He drew his tongue down Stretch's neck, the line of his spine. Let his teeth part and the tip of his tongue was a slick touch, leaving behind a trail of spit behind to prickle and cool.
Fast learner and yeah, okay, it was true that Edge had very little experience to draw on. He’d grudgingly admitted to being a virgin before Stretch wrangled him into the sheets, yeehaw, but then, once upon a time he'd never made a soufflé before, either, and he’d managed to become something of a wonder at that. Edge could learn, sure. Having fun was what was important, everything else was just window-dressing.
Stretch set his cup back down, clattering against the saucer as he grabbed the edge of the counter to brace himself. It was probably rude to be making out in the shared areas of the house, Blue would definitely have a few loud words to share about it, but it was kinda hard to care when he was bent over the edge of a kitchen counter with Edge's hips pressed right against the seat of his pants. Tight enough against him that Stretch could feel the firm length of his cock through the thin cloth, riding against his sacrum.
Making out in the kitchen as a sin, heh, that one didn’t even crawl halfway up his back. Stretch had had plenty more audacious sex than this, secretive little adventures in cloak rooms and dark alleys. Once, he'd been in the shadowy back corner at the NTT resort with a girl whose name he'd barely known then and didn't recall at all now, the two of them drunk enough that making out had devolved into hands in clothes, buttons and buckles undone as they panted together.
She'd tasted like sour lemons and smelled like an ashtray, had pert little breasts with coffee-colored nipples that had bounced lightly when she tugged his pants down until she could get his cock into her mouth. Stretch had sprawled back into the chair and set one hand between the points of her ears, pushed between those lipstick-smeared lips and the no one had said a word to stop them. Not even the guy at the next table who was watching them.
He'd been about the same age as Stretch, and their eyes had met and held while down below she bobbed her head between his legs. Until Stretch had to close his eyes and push up into that sweet little mouth, coming in a burst of drunken pleasure.
The guy hadn't said anything and later when Stretch offered him a couple G to pay for his drink, he'd taken Stretch's money with long, dark fingers. One of them had trailed against the back of Stretch's hand and it was only with sobriety that Stretch understood the hint in it. He wouldn't have taken the guy up on it, not then. Might have been able to let him down a little gentler than simply turning away and following the staggering sway of female hips to the elevator up to his room.
That cheap encounter was nothing like this. For one, Edge smelled a great deal better than that dark corner had; his hand on Stretch's chin smelled like churros and honey, a lingering trace of the single one that he'd stolen from Stretch's plate an hour ago Muffet’s tainting his glove. He’d eaten it despite his distaste just to be a shit, teeth sheering through the delicate pastry and his smirk sharper yet. Beneath that on the inside of his wrist was clean, nothing but the faint spice of the soap Edge used. Plain, simple smells but being with Edge on any given day was an adventure. Stretch could stand a little bit of ordinary in his sex if Edge was part of the package deal.
Not that this was anything so bland. Edge's fingers were as clever as his mind, one hand splayed across Stretch's face, tipping his head back into the wet glide of his tongue against the curve Stretch's skull. The other was low on Stretch's pelvis, pressing insistently until Stretch obeyed the pressure and tipped his hips back, settling Edge more firmly against his ass. No point in getting indignant about it now, was there, and Stretch was willing enough.
The heel of Edge's hand against his cock through his trousers was a startling bit of loveliness and Stretch moaned even as Edge pressed a finger into his mouth, stroking softly against Stretch's tongue. He bit down gently, licked at the worn leather of his glove and the pressure on his cock lightened, ignoring the desperate lurch of Stretch's hips towards it. Until two fingers returned, the very tips of Edge's thumb and forefinger found the head of his cock through his trousers unerringly, dragging down, and Stretch had to steady himself against the counter as his knees attempted to buckle.
He almost bit down hard when Edge let him go completely, his teeth scraping over Edge's knuckle as he drew his finger free. Instead, Stretch found himself turned around, the tea set shoved precariously aside with a rattling clatter.
"hey, don't—" Stretch nearly shouted as Edge suddenly lifted him, setting him to sit on the edge of the counter and humiliation threatened, his cheekbones heating. He wasn’t that scrawny, thank you, and didn’t appreciate getting tossed around. Only it was difficult to protest when Edge slithered down and wrapped both arms around Stretch's waist, burying his face into his lap.
Stretch settled for cupping the sides of Edge’s skull in both hands, his fingers curling beneath his jawbone to hang on. Edge didn't protest his grip, only set his teeth lightly against Stretch's dick, the sharp pressure dulled through his trousers into something glorious.
"oh, fuck," Stretch hissed out between gritted teeth, spreading his legs wider to give Edge more room. He took every offered inch of space, crowding against Stretch, fabric turning dark beneath his mouth as he suckled and bit. Offering a promise that Stretch wanted so desperately for him to keep.
His fingers didn't seem nearly so clever now, stumbling over the fly of Stretch's pants like a common person, not the Captain of the Snowdin guard. Working the button loose, drawing down the zip until Stretch could breathe again. He felt Edge smile against bared pubis, his breath damp as he murmured, "Seems like you forgot your shorts this time."
Stretch sucked on his teeth, fancied he could still taste Edge's fingers, bitter leather and honey, "more like hopeful i wouldn't need them."
A hum of approval tickled against him, making Stretch fight a squirm. The urge vaporized as Edge's mouth slid lower, his chin bumping Stretch's cock awkwardly. A hand circled the base quickly, steadying, and Stretch sighed his approval. Oh, that was lovely, long, slim fingers wrapped around him, stroking with marked uncertainty. The first touch of mouth had Stretch inhaling sharply, resisting the urge to push up into the promise it invited. That’d been what got them into trouble last time and he was determined to let Edge take this at his own pace.
Stretch stared down at Edge’s hand around him, red leather against the bright orange length of his cock; at his mouth, the obvious marks on his tongue where he’d been biting it. He touched Edge’s tongue with his smallest finger, exhaled slowly when Edge licked it. Edge didn’t stop there, leaning past Stretch’s finger to his own and fuck, licking between those long fingers, his tongue slippery against Stretch’s cock. His mouth hot as he drew path up to the tip and opened, tipped his head back just enough to let Stretch press inside.
Watched himself slide between those jagged teeth, the faint flutter of Edge's sockets as they slipped closed, cheekbones puffing out as he inhaled frantically, trying to keep up with Stretch. He had to watch, couldn't help it, pretty, yes, fuck, Edge was staggeringly lovely, but also, he couldn't trust Edge to tell him if it was too much. Stubborn bastard wouldn't protest if his jaw were about to unhinge.
He’d taken half the length before his breathing took on a panicked note and Stretch tightened his grip on Edge’s skull, forcing him to stop. “there, that’s good,” he sighed. “that’s good, fuck, your mouth is hot. fuck…can…can you suck? just a little, just…just…ah, edge…”
He could, he did, hesitant suction slowly gaining confidence. Garbled words flowed out of Stretch, tangled begging and encouragement. Edge’s hand at the base of his cock went sweet-tight when Stretch pushed up, one tiny rock of his hips and the slick pressure around him increased, rising force as Edge sucked him with growing determination.
“that’s it, pretty boy,” Stretch groaned, rubbing a thumb down his scarred cheekbone. “you suck cock better than you think.”
From beneath his hand Edge’s sockets flared open before they narrowed disagreeably, glaring up at Stretch. He offered a sly smile back, tightened his grip in Edge’s skull and for good measure, wrapped one leg around his shoulders, holding him in tight.
“what’s the matter, they call you that in all that guard training you went to?” Stretch taunted. “they sure didn’t do anything with it, left that gorgeous mouth all for me, didn’t they, pretty boy, pretty, pretty…ouch, you shit!”
Edge had damnably sharp teeth, Stretch decided irritably, although his tongue was perfectly clever, soothing over the bite. Some tightness in him seemed to ease along with it, draining out, letting his mouth open wider and his cheekbones hollowed as he sucked hard, working him with systematic precision.
“yeah, that’s it,” Stretch sighed, tipping his head back against the cupboards. He managed to loosen his other hand from Edge’s jaw, petting his skull distractedly as Edge moaned against him, the vibration shivering through him. “that’s it…god damn it, your mouth…fuck…ah…do that…ah…!”
Obligingly, Edge swallowed against him again, taking him deeper yet, the sleek curl of his tongue over the head made Stretch thrash with a helpless gasp, his heels clattering loudly against the cabinets as he struggled against shoving up into the tight clasp of that pretty, tight mouth. “fuck! where did you…”
And promptly regretted asking when Edge pulled off, looking up at him with a sulky, wet mouth and heavy eyes. “The dating manual is remarkably informative in this area. Do you like—“
“yes!” Stretch snarled, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The cold air was prickling against his wet cock uncomfortably. “yes, it was perfect and you’re a fucking bastard, you shit!”
“Language,” Edge murmured, dipping his head again, the touch of his mouth moving lovingly over him, taking him in abruptly deep as Stretch choked off words, thought falling to the wayside as Edge swallowed him down. Pulled back enough to lap at the tip with that clever little tongue and then back down. It was like he’d abandoned any pretense of hesitancy and where this eager, sensual creature had come from, Stretch didn’t know. All he knew was that he also didn’t care. Not so long as Edge was licking and swallowing him down, his mouth all silky heat and pressure.
Talking, right, talking was not a bad thing, not when the heat in his balls was rising, hot pleasure spiking up his spine and Stretch tapped feebly on Edge’s skull, “edge…uh…i’m close…” Hot, sweet suction was the only response, Edge’s mouth bruisingly perfect and Stretch’s voice broke, knees jerking in tight against Edge’s shoulders. “no…i mean…” Stretch moaned, trying to remember how to talk, how to remember anything but the flex and curl of Edge’s tongue against him. He forced words out desperately, “i mean…i’m going to come, right now, right…right…fuck, edge!”
Hot ecstasy flooded through him and Stretch gave in, fingers clenching into fists against Edge’s head even as he tried desperately not to hold him down, giving him a chance to back out. He felt Edge startle, his mouth going slack as Stretch jerked and cursed and came, slick bursts against his suddenly still tongue. Until Stretch could only slump back on the countertop, his clothes clinging sweatily to him and his breaths coming in harsh sobs. Dimly, he felt Edge pull back, his cock slipping from that soft, swollen mouth but not before Edge swallowed hesitantly around him, flexing against too sensitive flesh.
“oh, fuck me,” Stretch groaned. He was wrecked, the backs of his thighs aching where they pressed against the counter, little tremors still running through him. Sprawled out with Edge still between his legs and Stretch forced his sockets open enough to peer blearily down at him.
His gaze caught on that mouth first, on his tongue, a little puffy and reddened, and Stretch might have lingered there if Edge hadn’t swallowed again like he was still considering the taste, the bob at his throat a neat distraction. Instead, Stretch looked up a little higher and met crimson eye lights with his own. Edge was blinking too much, his sockets too wide and it made him look almost disturbingly young. He ruined it just as quickly, his tongue running lightly over his teeth in search of any stray drops; must've found the taste to his liking. Edge murmured roughly, “As agreeable as I am to fucking you, you look like you might need a moment.”
Stretch tipped his head back and laughed, honestly past caring at the shrill edge to it as he shook his head wearily. “maybe three or four moments. fucking hell…”
Edge slipped to his feet with a grace that Stretch didn’t have time to envy, his hands cool against Stretch’s face, forcing him to stillness. Holding him as Edge pressed their mouths together, sliding his tongue between Stretch’s teeth to share a kiss tainted with the sweet bitterness of his own magic. Of course sex with Edge would be like this, Stretch thought wryly, curling his arms around broad shoulders and hauling himself up a little straighter, enough to let their mouths meet a little easier. Of course it would.
Gentle slick kisses turned into something fiercer, their mouths meeting with harsh force and Edge was crowding between his legs again, his belt buckle pushing uncomfortably against Stretch’s crotch. Before he could complain, Edge pulled away breathlessly, diving in to bite at Stretch’s jawline fiercely before he whispered sharply against it, “I’d like to see how pretty you are on your knees.”
Stretch made a sound in his throat, a tiny noise of protest; he was hardly what anyone would call pretty in any context. Cute, he got sometimes, slutty, sure but—
Sharp teeth nibbling beneath his chin silenced his thoughts, biting a path gently down his throat.
Yeah, okay, his turn to be on his knees, he could do that. Edge would probably last all of ten seconds, but that was okay, too.
He’d learn.
-finis
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His chest aches, his cheekbone throbs with the imminent development of a bruise. (How? He doesn't remember, as faint as he is. Adam had fought, and he fought hard.) But Kenny is the one victorious. Victorious, but all he's able to do is kneel, half collapsed, his hands against the canvas for support. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know why, but he kisses him, lips to the forehead of the man he—. He kisses him. He walks away. He touches the bruise on his cheekbone, and he smiles. It still hurts.
Kenny Fucking Omega
w/ the sad yeehaw man
He didn’t hook the leg.
Adam rolled through the snapdragon and countered with a firm elbow to Kenny’s jaw. He put Kenny on his feet and then lifted the other man by the thighs, over his shoulders. Deadeye, right to the back of the head, a knock-out for a lesser man. Except Kenny Omega was Kenny Fucking Omega, and he kicked-out. The match rolled on, Adam lost, he’d seen the ending twenty-thousand times. The One-Wing Angel was a punctuation point at the end of a statement. Yet, each time he watched through the recording he paused on that one pin after the Deadeye. Adam had Kenny stacked, his full weight on his shoulders. The bell should’ve rung. Except Adam only hooked the left leg. He only hooked the left leg on Kenny Omega. He only hooked the left leg on Kenny Fucking Omega. The best pin he got the whole match. Right after Omega ate: a half-dozen elbows, too many chops to count, a starching power bomb on the ramp, three boots to the face, and got dropped on his head from four feet in the air. The planets aligned, the Scorpio was in Aquarius or whatever, and Adam only hooked one leg.
“It was the-- it was the right leg!”
Tony’s voice shuttered through the phone in Adam’s lap. The screen paused on the collapsed forms of the combatants in the ring. Adam face down in the fore-ground and Kenny clutching his leg not far behind. In that moment he hadn’t thought about the right leg. Kenny had kicked out by some miracle but it wasn’t sheer luck. Kenny exploited Adam’s error. Of course, unbeknownst to Adam the comms were carefully picking-apart Adam’s critical mistake. The legs weren’t neutralized. Kenny could swing his right leg and leverage his weight-out. If Adam had hooked both legs the match would be over, he’d be facing Mox. Instead, he made a stupid mistake so obvious even Tony Schiavone, who would break his hand before he could throw a good punch, pointed it out.
A headache formed behind Adam’s eyes. He tore his gaze from the screen and glanced-out the window. The dark night streaked black, reflecting back his hotel room and his bedraggled body propped-up in bed. A limp hand fluttered out to find his bourbon on the night stand. He lifted the glass to his lips and found no relief for his parched throat. Adam scowled and returned the glass to where he found it. The bottle was empty too. He couldn’t tell if he was buzzed, drunk, or hungover. Just a dullness, settling in with the ache and exhaustion. Adam used the tip of his finger to edge the glass away from him. A final statement that he was done for the night. He slid down from his upright position against the pillows and sprawled out the bed covers The fan swirled in lazy circles above him. After months of blistering heat Florida had cooled to a tolerable temperature but this room was cooking him alive. His hair was still damp from the shower. He glanced at the clock, 1:43. No phone calls, no texts, no twitter updates, he put his phone on airplane mode hours ago. It was just him, the recording of his life’s greatest failure, and an empty bottle of bourbon.
Adam lifted his phone from his side. He turned onto his cheek to glance at it again. He hit the play button and the recording rolled. The two men recovered, Adam was up first. He set-up for the buckshot but Kenny anticipated it and rolled him into a crucifix. He was so fucking predictable. Adam used a boot between the ropes to stuff Kenny’s charge three times that night. No wonder he had his leg well scouted. That twisting move on his knee obliterated his chance in the match. Can’t stand, can’t fight. Oh, Adam had a couple more signs of life in him but two knees to the face, well. He was up on Kenny’s shoulders now. Kenny caught the head and Humpty Dumpty took a great fall. The leg hook was a formality. Adam wasn’t even sure he was conscious for this part. One, two, three, and Adam paused the video again. He haphazardly tossed the phone and it clattered off the edge of the bed. Adam had a life proof case for a reason.
There was no point in watching any further.
For a head-spinning minute, Hangman Adam Page was somebody. He was the tag team champion, alongside Kenny Fucking Omega. He was on top of the world. It was all so good. Training with Kenny, fighting with Kenny, sometimes, fighting with Kenny. Getting distracted by another tag-team-- No, Kenny literally dropping Adam like a sack of potatoes was inevitable. He had held Kenny back, made stupid fucking mistakes, hit his partner on accident, got drunk and wandered around arenas like a moron. Bickering with the bucks and ruining his friendships. Adam was an arsonist, he only burned down bridges and never built them. Now he was alone on his Island, just like he always wanted. And he had a lost tournament to prove how ‘accomplished’ Adam Page truly is. Matt and Nick were right about him. For all his bluster, all his big talk, believing in himself when no one else would. Empty words, Adam could talk the talk, but he couldn’t walk the walk. Because he ran-up against someone like Kenny Fucking Omega.
And he forgot to hook the left leg.
He didn’t need the video for the next part. Kenny’s head and hand lifted high. Kenny, haloed like an angel of death by the Dally Place lights. Kenny, knelt above him like a prayer at the altar. Cheeks blushed in rose, breath spilling from his chapped, pink lips. Curls like spun gold, framing his sculptured features. Like something out of a renaissance art painting. Out of a great tragedy, Lucifer, Achilles, Gabriel. His lips against his forehead in a kiss as delicate as a flower petal. Paul Turner helping Adam limp out of the arena. Fuck Hangman, and then taking the Uber back to his hotel alone, in utter silence with the guy working the graveyard shift. Alcohol, shower, alcohol, video self-pity marathon, alcohol. He wished his dog was here. Wait, what was that last bit?
Adam lunged across the bed. Kicked into action as if bitten by a Hell Hound. Belly against the comforter his hands searched the floor until he found his phone lodged by the head board. Half-his chest off the bed he hit the play button. Adam slammed against the ring mat. The fall-out, the replay, the play-by-play, the comms chattering, (”Kenny came out the better man”), blah, blah, blah. Paul Turner helped Kenny up. Then he was back down, knelt over Adam, and with great reverence, Kenny stooped to kiss Adam’s forehead. The he rolled out of the ring. Adam paused the video. Then he played it back. Then he paused the video and then he played it back. he paused the video, he played it back. Inch-by-inch Adam slid off the mattress until he was slumped against the floor, legs hooked on the bed above him. He watched that little end sequence on loop until it was emblazoned against his memory. It was so quick the comms didn’t even mention it.
A kiss. Kenny kissed him. Kenny Fucking Omega kissed him. Adam laid his hand over his sternum. His heart shuttered in his chest, pounding, tight, and agonizing. Pure pain, looking at the blurred pixels on his phone screen. It wasn’t near enough, the taste of it was like a morsel of food for a starving man. Kenny lingered over Adam in nothing but obscure pixels. What was his expression like? What did he do with his hands? And most important, something the phone could never tell him, why?
Adam and Kenny were out. Now that his obligations to the tag title were done, Kenny returned to the single arena. Tired of dragging dead weight, tired of the noose around his throat. Kenny walked out on the tag team Adam prayed to stay in. Adam screwed over the Bucks. He spitefully entered a tournament to prove he didn’t need Kenny anyway. Adam didn’t even shake his hand at the start of the match. Not just because he was angry --Adam was pissed in that unshakable focused way-- but because he was afraid. Taking Kenny’s hand, never letting go, too tempting a possibility. The longer he stared at the screen the longer this shameless act of devotion eluded him.
For the first time in hours Adam turned his phone off airplane mode. He shuffled through the deluge of notifications by dismissing all of them without reading any. He pulled-up Kenny’s contact, drafted a text message.
“Hey, man, good fight today-- well, yesterday, I guess. I just wanted to ask, out of curiosity, did you kiss me at the end? I mean, it’s no big deal. I was just wondering is all like i thought it was a little odd is all. Are you ok? You know you can always count on me, no matter what. I’m sorry i’ve been such an ass. I need to start drinking less, much less. It’s just that everything, the tournament, the belts, it’s been getting to me, I only wanted to prove to you guys I could keep up. I want you to know, I feel the same.”
Adam paused, his thumb hovering over the send button. The last line stained in black font against his vision. He then selected the entire text, cut it, and pasted it into a note’s app. Adam sighed and turned off his phone. His arm slung over his eyes. Five minutes later he was passed-out cold, still on the floor, snoring, and with the lights on.
#ofgrief#‘The Hangman’ || Adam: IC#‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse#if adam was in a better head space or had better coping mechanism#he would rephrase this#such that the only thing standing between him and Kenny Fucking Omega#Kenny Fucking Omega who is easily one of the best in the world and has 8+ more years of experience than him#is a single minor error#if Adam had hooked that leg#he would've won the match#he was that close#instead he's stucking in this negative downspiral thinking about how terrible and awful he is#glass half empty#instead of seeing actually#his glass is 9/10 full and he's bemoaning a quarter inch of emptiness
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I was inspired by this post from @behold-a-wretch-like-me to make a list of things my Deputy would say as a FC5 companion!
Deputy Max ‘Rook’ Taylor
With Fangs for Hire
Boomer - *in a singsong voice* Hi baby! You're so sweet, yes you are!
Peaches - You don't see cats that big where I'm from.
Cheeseburger - Hey Cheeseburger! Man, I could really go for a burger right now. Not one of Casey's though. Yuck.
With other Guns for Hire
Grace - Thanks again for the tips Grace! I’m on the way to be a sniping pro like you.
Nick - Hey Dad-NICK. Oh, come on! Don't laugh, Sharky said it once too!
Adelaide - Where’d you learn how to fly like that? Wait, don’t answer it’s probably gross.
Sharky - Sharky my man, drinks later mate?
Hurk - Never a dull moment with you Hurk. *mumbles* Unfortunately.
Jess - Jess, has anyone told you you’re a badass lately?
In Combat
seeing an enemy - I've got eyes on!
sneaking - *whispers* Silencers on.
killing an enemy - That’s right asshole!
hurt - Fucking Christ!
downed - Little help here, mate! *hisses in pain* Oowww owwieee!
Driving
entering a car - Yeehaw motherfucker! *Laughs* That was so stupid. Let’s just go!
reckless driving - I'm a better horse rider I swear.
changing radio stations - Ah shit! I knew I should’ve brought my playlist!
Idle
humming The World is Gonna End Tonight - I gotta admit, they know how to make a banger.
Anyone up for a game of footy? I mean ah, Aussie Rules.
You think...You think there could be more? Between me and Staci, I mean.*Sigh* Yeah, bad timing.
Okay, okay. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Uhhh.... Kill Joseph for sure... Marry John and Fuck Jacob. Oh wait, been there done that.
Hey why not make it a tag game? I’ll tag @teamhawkeye, @sharky-broshaw, @seedlingsinner and @foofygoldfish to give it a try, only if you want to of course! 🧡🧡
#Far Cry 5#FC5#This was a lot of fun!#Max is basically just a big kid#and a farm boy at heart#Max Taylor#Deputy Taylor#My OC
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I think my favorite part of your portrayal is I often find myself saying things like “ I never thought of that ! “ because you’ve delved into every nook & cranny of his head. never a dull moment with this big doofy yeehaw man !! I’m lov.
meme | accepting / beep beep how’s my portrayal ?
JACKPOT. b . . honestly i sit around going “ wow what the fuck this is so minuscule why you digging deep “ on it and then its like . . because you care about this depressed cowboy, karen. but like, forreal bless u . . thank you sm and im so happy you enjoy my portrayal of him and come runnin’ for more !! its been a lovely time writing and knowin’ you so far !!
#dyvinitie#🔥 // make it quick ; got some time to kill for a short time only. ( asks )#🔥 // all these demon arms and only two arms to hold them in ( save )#🔥 // i'm here because a jackass devil dragged me in kicking and screaming. howdy demons its ya boy ! ( mun )
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The Third Wave | Chapter Twenty: Punishment and Reunion
"Arrgh! Christ!" Aiko winced as Ms. Fawkes pulled an icepack away from her wrist, proceeding to gently wrap the sprained forearm with a compression bandage.
"Aw, don't be a baby, lass," Ms. Fawkes chuckled as she put a clip on the bandage, holding it in place. "There, good as new. Well... not quite, but you'll live." Ms. Fawkes got up from her stool and browsed the shelves, searching for anti-inflammatory medication (she had misplaced it the day before, and hadn't searched for it yet). Luckily, hiding behind a few other containers were the meds she was looking for, and she brought them over to Aiko, who sat on Ms. Fawke's medical bed in the center of the room. "Here we go!" Ms. Fawkes said as she handed Aiko her medicine. "These are anti-inflammatories- take em' for pain and swelling, but use in moderation, alright? Follow the instructions to the letter; I don't want to send to send ya to the hospital."
"No prob, Ms. Fawkes," Aiko nodded, clutching her bandage tightly to make sure it was secure. "Thanks."
"Yur welcome," Ms. Fawkes grinned, rushing over to Maeve, who sat off on the side in a lounger, awaiting treatment. "Now, onto my most frequent customer!" Ms. Fawkes almost seemed to skip over to Maeve, rolling the dragon-girl closer to Aiko as she hummed to herself. "Don't be followin' in the footsteps of this clown here..." Ms. Fawkes whispered to Aiko as she flipped Maeve over, examining her wound. "She's a bit of a loose cannon."
"Yeah, I figured that much," Aiko giggled, Maeve grumbling under her breath. "How does her wound look? A member of my team treated it with his Mark. Has it healed at all?"
"Well, he treated it right- plucked the shrapnel out and used a natural disinfecting agent to kill bacteria. Trouble is he didn't cover it up, and it's got a bit a dirt all in it." Ms. Fawkes walked over to a sink in the corner of the room, washing her hands vigorously before putting on medical gloves. She grabbed a pair of cleaned tweezers, picking out tiny pieces of dirt that were hidden in Maeve's wound. Unfortunately, some pieces were trapped; Maeve's enhanced healing had already begun to take effect and was quickly closing the injury with a new layer of skin. "Hmm... looks like I'll only be able to get out the exposed pieces. You're already healin' up."
"Of course I am, I'm a Mythical Beast Mark-user," Maeve announced, prideful in the unique abilities her Mark granted.
"Careful, Maeve..." Ms. Fawkes warned her, placing wet cloth on Maeve's wound. "I've treated countless characters like yourself who thought their Mark could protect em' from anythin'. Better healin' doesn't mean invincibility."
Just then, Ms. Steele walked into Ms. Fawke's office, snorting under her breath as she saw Maeve on the bed once again. "Oh boy."
"Robot-lady!" Yuko clapped as soon as she caught a glimpse of Ms. Steele's arms, standing close to Aiko.
"Hey, Steely, whatcha doin' in here?" Gin's voice became sweeter as she turned to Ms. Steele, who sat down on a chair near the door.
"Just here for a check-up is all- arm's on the fritz again," Ms. Steele replied, rolling her shoulder a few times and clenching her metal fist. She then popped her head up to get a better view of Maeve's leg, scoffing at the reckless dragon's new scars. "You gotta slow it down, kid. You'll get hurt if you keep this up."
"Says the woman with cybernetics..." Maeve muttered.
"She's right, ya know? You can't go rushin' into battle without any concern for safety, it's dangerous," Ms. Fawkes added as she slowly rubbed the damp cloth against Maeve's leg, mopping up any remaining dirt and debris whilst also cleansing the wound. "Listen to Ms. Steele, she's an expert when it comes to being reckless... right, cowgirl?" Gin shot Ms. Steele a naughty glance, teasing the veteran.
"Shut yer trap, Potato-Head," Ms. Steele shook her head at Ms. Fawkes as she crossed her arms and leaned her head back against the wall, trying to hide the smile spreading across her face.
"So, um..." Aiko treaded carefully with her next question, as she feared it would stir up unwanted emotions in Ms. Steele. "How did you get all those cybernetics?"
"Yeah, tell us!" Yuko chimed in.
"Ah, just got caught in an explosion- nothing epic or anything," Ms. Steele shrugged her shoulders, staring at the ground for a moment before continuing. "Typical injury on the battlefield."
"Alrighty, lass, you're good as new," Ms. Fawkes declared as she finished bandaging Maeve's leg, handing her a package of extra bandages. "Here, make sure to switch em' when they get dirty."
"Thank you," Maeve nodded, hopping off the medical bed.
"You're very welcome," Ms. Fawkes beamed, looking over to Yuko. "How about you, sweetheart? Do you need anything patched up?"
"Um..." Yuko checked her metal body for any scrapes or scratches; thankfully, nothing. "Nope!"
"Hmm, I never did get either of your names..." Ms. Fawkes scratched her chin at Aiko and Yuko, sitting down on her office chair.
Aiko stepped down from the medical bed and stood beside Yuko. "I'm Aiko Schmitt, and this is Yuko. She's err-... my sister."
"Ah, I see the resemblance," Ms. Fawkes stated, noticing their similarities in face shape and body structure. " I can see who the athlete in the family is..." She snorted, pointing out Yuko's superior size and muscle mass.
"Uh, yeah..." Aiko couldn't help but feel bullied for her mediocre height. "I'm not that short!"
"Now, you guys run along to Headmaster Colter, he's got a bone to pick with the ya," Ms. Fawkes quickly shooed all three of them out into the hall, poking her head outside before closing it completely. "Have a good one!" And with that, Ms. Fawkes was free from a long day of tending injured students. "Bloody hell... I'm beat." She sighed, plopping back down on her office chair as she stared at the ceiling.
"It must be damn tirin'- dealin' with all those reckless kid's injuries," Ms. Steele empathized with the exhausted nurse before her. "They're always so damn enthusiastic- gettin' into fights like that."
"Were you any different at that age?" Ms. Fawkes smirked, bringing back old memories of their high school years.
"Nope," Ms. Steele smirked as she tapped her metal hand against her leg. "But look where that got me, eh?"
"You know it wasn't your fault- what happened to you," Ms. Fawkes reminded her like she had done countless times before. "Shit happens."
"Yeah, yeah..." Ms. Steele brushed her off as she sat down on one of the medical beds, awaiting Ms. Fawke's healing touch. "Now, how about that check-up?"
"Joy Steele... always so forward," Ms. Fawkes' voice became somewhat sultry, stirring up unwanted emotions in Ms. Steele.
"What did I tell ya about callin' me 'Joy', Coal Cracker?" Ms. Steele's face flushed red as she forced a scowl.
"Shut up and show me yur arm, Yeehaw," Ms. Fawkes giggled as she took Ms. Steele's forearm, raising it to see under her shoulder. "Hmm... not an expert with cybernetics, but it looks like ya got a dull magnet in there. You should check up with Billy downstairs, he'll patch you up."
"Th-thanks..." Ms. Steele nodded as she clutched her left arm, testing its mobility.
"Now, I'm curious... why didn't ya go right to Billy in the first place?" Ms. Fawkes bit her lower lip as she sat on Ms. Steele's lap, causing the poor gritty soldier to sweat from anxiety. "Did ya wanna ask me something, Maverick?"
"W-well... I was wondrin' if we could maybe go somewhere tonight?" Ms. Steele slurred her words as the sweet aroma wafting off of Ms. Fawkes reached her nose, causing her to nearly go brain-dead.
"Sounds good, A rúnsearc," Ms. Fawkes said in a bewitching voice as smooth as Irish cream, her amber eyes locking onto Ms. Steele's emerald gaze. "What did ya have in mind?"
"Dinner? Maybe a movie?" Ms. Steele tried to calm herself down, but Ms. Fawkes made it exceedingly difficult to every hot and heavy breath she took. "I hear there's another Fast and Furious movie playin'."
"It's a date then," Ms. Fawkes nodded as she skipped over to the door, locking it from the inside. "But first... I need a little time to unwind."
"W-wait, here?!" Ms. Steele stuttered as Ms. Fawkes jumped on top of her like a cheetah pouncing on its prey. "Now?!"
"Any complaints...?" Ms. Fawkes snickered drunkenly as she unbuttoned Ms. Steele's shirt, wrapping her long legs around the bumbling soldier's waist.
"Uh..." Ms. Steele looked behind her lover, watching the door for a moment before finally giving in with a defeated grunt. "Ah, fuck it." A wild grin stretched across Ms. Steele's face as she grabbed Ms Fawkes and violently kissed her. "Ya fuckin' Clover."
"Shut yur trap, Hick," Gin snapped back at her as she shut Joy up with another kiss. "I need some Fast and Furious right fuckin' here."
****
Yuko held Aiko's hand as they entered the Headmaster's office, looking for Aiko's reassurance. "Ai-... Aiko?"
"It's okay, Yuko. Don't be scared," Aiko calmed her little sister down, reaching up to pat Yuko on the head.
"Oh... okay..." Yuko nodded as she looked all around the room, marveling at Headmaster Colter's odd taste in decoration. "Whoa, this is weird!"
"An interesting design," Maeve affirmed Yuko's statement as she analyzed the space.
"Not what you expected?" The Headmaster guffawed with his low voice, adding a jolly tone to the situation. "Come in!"
The Headmaster's office was primarily designed with a 50's art deco style in mind, taking inspiration from jazz clubs and Hollywood glam of that era. Portraits of 50's pop-icons lined the walls where one would expect a bland still life painting to reside; Marilyn Monroe, Humphrey Bogart, Chuck Berry, they all were hung up in frames. There was even a jukebox close to the Headmaster's desk playing 'Maybe ' by The Ink Spots, and it's sound provided a very comforting ambience to the room that incited nostalgia in people that had never even experienced that generation.
"Oh my God, is that-?" Aiko cut herself off as she took a gander at the Frank Sinatra album inside the jukebox, almost forgetting the reason why she came to the Headmaster's office.
"Hush, buffoon!" Maeve silenced Aiko with a hushed scream.
"Yep, it's original," Headmaster Colter answered her as he laid back in his chair, taking a deep breath. "Cost an arm and a leg to find. You like em'?"
"Ah, yep... I like his music," Aiko nodded, trying to keep a serious face on. "So, um.. down to business then?"
"Yeah, let's get to it," The Headmaster grabbed reading glasses from a compartment in his desk to read Officer Grey's report on the day's events. "So, you all can confirm these reports were true? You were all involved in today's incident and you actively went against a direct order given to you by one of the teaching staff?"
"Yes." They all nodded.
"Alright..." The Headmaster sighed, getting off his seat with an exasperated groan. "You're smart, honest students- that much is clear -but you disobeyed an order from a superior. That won't fly if you get out in the field one day; your commanding officer won't have time for any of your malarkey." He folded up his glasses and placed them back in the desk, slowly stretching as he got back up to relieve all the stress on his back that built up over the day. "Aiko, you're new here, so I hope you'll only have to hear this lecture once, but you..." He shot Maeve an annoyed look as he sat back down in his chair. "You've caused the teaching staff nothing but trouble since you first got here. Damn it, MacDonnell! You're a star student with stellar grades, but you've got to learn a little perspective. You can't just go barging in like you know everything because you don't!"
"Yes, sir..." The fire inside Maeve seemed to dissipate, leaving her cold and emotionless; she simply stared off into space and nodded. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Sorry isn't good enough anymore, and it's not good enough for your father either," Headmaster Colter shook his head as he packed up the papers of Grey's report into its file, placing it in his desk drawer. "My apologies, Maeve, but I'm going to have to give you a suspension to get my message across."
Maeve was shocked back into reality by Colter's declaration. "Thank you, Headmas-."
"There must be some other way, Headmaster. Maeve may have disobeyed orders, but she saved all those officers today! There must be some alternative to suspension...?" Aiko voiced her opinion on the matter, trying to shield Maeve from such a severe punishment. "Right?"
"I suppose there could be..." The Headmaster scratched his chin as he thought for a moment. "Yes, I think I know the perfect alternative, though, I'm not sure if you'll be satisfied with it."
"W-what is it...?" Aiko asked, cursing her conscious for covering Maeve's tail so quickly.
"For the alternative, Ms. MacDonnell could live with you for the rest of the school week," Colter groomed his beard as he continued. "Yes... I think it would be a good way for Ms. MacDonnell to be more cooperative with her peers."
"No, no, no!" Maeve waved her hands in the air as she voiced her concern. "I'm not going to live with..." She leaned in closer to Colter, secretly gesturing over to Aiko and Yuko. "Those two..."
"Fine, then you take the suspension," Colter said as he tapped a pencil against his desk.
"Um-!" Maeve trailed off as she weighed her options carefully. "I'll... take the alternative."
"Yay, a sleepover!" Yuko cheered as she hugged Maeve tightly, completely ignoring her personal space.
"Unhand me, you fool!" Maeve shouted at her captor, wheezing as Yuko hugged tighter. "Hrrnn!"
"Yuko, what did I tell you about people's 'bubbles'?!" Aiko yelled at her sister, trying to pry Maeve out of her grasp. "Yuko!"
****
In a storage warehouse in Rock Bay, in the Burnside District of Victoria, a door swung open, revealing Damian on the other side along with his fellow comrades. Reika, Camila, and Varg followed Damian closely, making sure he was safe from harm. Louise and Alistair tagged along behind them, whispering to each other in hushed tones.
"Are we really gonna be meetin' these wankas, Damian?" Alistair spoke up, mumbling into The Father's ear.
"These two are not 'wankas', they're old friends of the cause- the original Brother and Sister that joined eight years ago," Damian replied as he removed his sunhat. "Reika remembers them well."
"I do! I'm so excited to see them all again! It's been so long!" Reika held her hands to her heart, reminiscing on the good times she shared with her old family. "Oh, Ara's gonna freak out when he sees how big I got after all these years!"
"Yeah... big," Alistair gawked at Reika's rear as he trailed behind her.
"Indeed, she shall," Damian let out a light chuckle as they all turned down a hall surrounded by wooden crates. "Please, try to be nice, everyone. We wouldn't want to be impolite to our elders."
The Kin gathered at a clearing in the middle of the warehouse created just recently, as evident by the dust outlines on the floor which used to house various containers. The missing crates seemed to be arranged into two makeshift thrones, and sitting on top of them were two grizzled looking veterans. The one on the left was a woman in her early thirties, a Korean woman with very short, periwinkle hair that was done up in flapper curls. Despite her obvious Asian heritage (brown eyes, round cheeks, and a short nose), she had a very Western-looking body type and face shape. She had a long slender figure with tall legs and a very sharp chin, and she had a lengthy neck as well. The crane-like woman wore a purple tweed jacket over a red tank top cut above her stomach, with black denim jeans to tie it all together.
"Bonjour, all!" She greeted them with a very dainty wave, gracefully crossing a leg over the other as she fiddled with a large steel needle in her hand.
*Ara Kae Toutou (IMOP Bounty: 40,350,000 UND)*
"Ah, Madame Toutou..." Damian kissed Ara's outstretched hand as she descended from her throne. "As graceful as ever."
"Merci, Mousieur Dreyfus," Ara laughed, kissing him on either side of his face.
"Oh, cariño... not more of that Frenchy-French garbage," The hulking man on the right grumbled with a thick Mexican accent as he rolled his eyes.
The man occupying the next throne- aside from his height -was the exact opposite of Ara. His black hair was slicked back with Brill cream, and he had big and bold sideburns that complimented his bushy moustache. He was a swollen mass of raw muscle and testosterone, standing just under Varg's height, but far outclassing him in the brawn category. His broad neck was like a pyramid, and his barrelled chest stuck out of his tight, grey t-shirt. Each of his titanic arms was the size of Varg's torso, but his legs were fairly short compared to the rest of his body, though, they were still well-built. The man had a rigid face with a solid jaw line, and his eyes were dark brown; he appeared to squint most of the time as well. His black leather jacket just barely contained his musculature, and his tight blue jeans were done up with a spiffy brown belt made from the finest leather. The sleeves on his jacket were rolled up to accommodate huge metal cuffs on his forearms that looked as if they weighed at least a ton each, and he also wore modified hiking boots with heavy metal soles. He looked as tough as they come.
*Pablo Hernandez (IMOP Bounty: 53,000,000 UND)*
"Hola, Pablo," Damian gave Pablo a firm but cautious handshake as he stepped off his seat, wary of the raw strength behind his grip.
"Hola, mi amigo!" Pablo pulled Damian in and hugged him like a brother would. "You look well, Damian! Have you been workin' out?"
"I've had my share of field experience in these eight years," Damian replied, gesturing to his moustache. "You've grown facial hair, I see."
"Ah, yes! You like it, eh? It took me a while," Pablo chuckled as he walked over to meet the rest of his old team. "Who are the newcomers?"
"Of course, I must introduce you two. Come," Damian sorted his allies into a huddle, forming an amalgamation of Kin members, both new and old. "For those of you who don't know, this is Pablo; he was the first member I recruited all those years ago when Reika and I began, 'The Brother'." Damian then placed a hand on Ara's shoulder. "And Ara is the second recruit; she once bared the title of 'Sister' before you, Camila. But, since their roles have been filled, you shall refer to these two as your 'Grandmother' and 'Grandfather'."
"It is good to work with you all, mes amies," Ara giggled delightedly as she struck up a conversation with Reika, whom she hadn't seen in years. "Ma parole, ma parole! You have grown into a beautiful woman!"
"Thank you, Ara. It really has been too long," Reika felt an ego boost from Ara's compliment as she placed a hand on her hip. "How are you? How was Paris?"
"Très bien, très bien, Cherry Blossom! Oh, ow wonderful Paris was! I will tell you more when we arrive at our new abode," Ara held back her enthusiasm, knowing full-well that Damian was about to get down to business. "Let us begin zen, oui?"
"Yes..." Damian cleared his throat before continuing. "In light of our recent loss, I now realize just how different Victoria is from Vancouver. The population density of Mark-users is simply astounding. Though the IMOP forces are spread out far and wide across the island, there are many students at the academy that we may need to keep tabs on in the future. I must confess, we are horribly outmatched in this new environment, but we will adapt, like always. And so that is why I've invited some old faces back into the fold, you see."
"So, what now?" Camila asked.
"What is imperative to our cause as of right now is locating and liberating the Mythical Beast Mark-user hidden somewhere in this city by The Paladins," Damian answered.
"And what do you know of this Mark-user?" Pablo inquired, crossing his arms as he groomed his moustache.
"We know of her name, Isabelle. However, we know nothing of the Mark she carries- only rumours telling of its potential to aid entire armies in their advance," Damian explained in a grave tone of voice. "We cannot let a Mark-user of that calibre fall into the hands of The Paladins. If this girl is utilized properly by those fools, there's no telling the carnage they might inflict on fellow Mark-users."
"Damn Paladins..." Varg spat on the ground at the mere mention of their name.
"She is being held in a bunker somewhere underneath the Greater Victoria area," Damian sighed, tapping his thumbs together. "It's vague but at least it's something."
"A bunker? Aren't zare many of zeez in za city?" Ara interjected whilst simultaneously inspecting her nails for any cracks or scrapes.
"Yes, there are, which is exactly why I've called upon you two. We need more boots on the ground if we ever hope to find Isabelle," Damian responded, scratching his chin at the thought of such a large-scale undertaking. "And to start, we must work our way up The Paladin's chain of command until we finally sever the head of the demon, Peter Bishop. Once he's gone, the gang violence against Mark-users in Victoria shall be cleft in two."
"The Master and Commander of the West Coast Paladins? Dios mío... how we gonna do that? That guy's a ghost." Pablo shook his head, dreading such an idea.
"Like Damian said: we work our way up the food chain from local gangs, to grunts, to knights, and so on," Louise offered her support for Damian's plan. "It will take time, but it will eventually yield results."
"Well, I ain't got better things to do anyways..." Pablo snickered, feeling all nostalgic as he heard the enthusiasm of Damian's group. "Let's do this."
"Oui! Let us embark!" Ara cheered as she outstretched her hand into the middle of their circle.
"Yes, let us begin," Damian smiled as he placed his hand on top of Ara's, the rest of his team joining in. "For the family..."
"For humanity." They all chanted, hopeful of the future.
"Ha ha! A happy day!" Pablo let out a hearty laugh as he hugged Varg and Camila. "We got any tequila at the new crib, eh? I'm in the mood for a party!"
"And hopefully a shower..." Camila mumbled to herself as her nostrils puckered, catching a whiff of Pablo's overpowering musk.
#novel#book#literature#series#manga#anime#action#adventure#action adventure#alternate universe#alternate history#dark#violent#mature#comedy#romance#slice of life#wierd#super powers#super human#supernatural#wild#crazy#funny#strange#odd#epic#huge#vast#world building
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