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#YES I STILL SUCK AT TAGGING AND I WILL CONTINUE TO VOMIT TAGS UNTIL I LEARN
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Pt XIII good omens: The Adventures of Crowley and Aziraquail (Ages 3+)
@innefableidiot Shout out to you for my Good Omens villain arc origin story. I saw your Duck Omens, I reblogged it thinking I had too small of an attention span to watch a whole show, but the Duck Crowley and Aziraphale looked so adorable anyway. But I had flirted with the devil, Good Omens took over my dash, I made a summary, and here we are. This is in honour of you.
Good Omens, as a toddler's book. Yes I wrote an entire toddler's story for this post. If you do like this ridiculous thing, it would be nice if you could reblog it :") That's the only way it can get to more people. And god knows the children of divorce need a good bedtime story. So here you are, to heal the pain.
Crowley the Crow had always been a naughty little bird. Look at him go, flapping over the street... He wanted to steal something! Oh, no, Crowley. Stealing isn't very nice of you.
"I'm not nice," cawed Crowley. "Not nice at all."
Aziraquail the Quail sat near, on a telephone line. He was eating a piece of grain. Munch, munch, much, went Aziraquail. He saw Crowley and waved his wing.
"Crowley!" trilled Aziraquail. "What are you up to?"
"I'm going to steal something," said Crowley. He waved back. Aziraquail was his friend, and it is polite to greet your friends. That's how they know you care! "Look, Aziraquail, that human has a very shiny ring!"
"It is a very shiny ring," Aziraquail said, looking down. Aziraquail wanted to tell the truth. He didn't always succeed, but that's okay! It's very, very important to try. "But Crowley, you can't steal the very shiny ring! It doesn't belong to you."
Crowley was very confused. He landed on the telephone line beside Aziraquail. "But if the very shiny ring belonged to me, how would I steal it?"
Aziraquail sighed. But he decided to explain it to Crowley anyway. Sometimes, people aren't trying to be bad! They just don't know any better. "You shouldn't steal it at all, Crowley. Stealing will make the human sad."
"Oh goodie," said Crowley. "That sounds fun."
"No!" cried Aziraquail. Aziraquail didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. "Crowley, don't make the human sad. Or I shan't be your friend."
Crowley thought over that. He didn't like that. Aziraquail was his very best friend. Friends are very important, and Crowley knew that. But oh! He did so want that very shiny ring.
Crowley looked down at the human again. No, Crowley! Don't do it!
With a flap of his wings, and a flip of his wings, down Crowley flew, to snatch the human's very shiny ring! Oh, dear, Crowley. How very naughty of you.
But what was this? Crowley bumped straight into the human's head! He bounced off and away he went, landing with a huff on the pavement. That's the part next to the street.
The human was very cross. "Come back here, you bad bird!" she shouted. That wasn't polite of her, was it? When you're upset with someone, you shouldn't shout right away. What if it had been an accident?
"It wasn't an accident," said Crowley. He was grumpy. "I wanted to steal her very shiny ring."
Naughty Crowley.
The human ran towards Crowley to scold him. Poor Crowley! But just as the human stepped off the street, along came a very fast bike, and whoosh! Away it went, just missing the human.
Oh my. You mustn't speed on streets like that, very fast bike! You could have hit somebody. Look at that sign over there. This street is for pedestrians, too! Pedestrians is a grown-up way of saying people who aren't on a vehicle. Grown-ups like fancy words.
"Wait a moment," said the human. She stopped and looked at Crowley. "Oh, little crow, you saved me! I could have been hit!"
Crowley blinked. He was very confused. But he'd been trying to be naughty!
"Thank you!" said the human. "Oh, thank you, little bird. What can I do for you?" She looked down at her hand. "Crows like shiny things, don't they? Here, take this very shiny ring. I got it for free with sweets, and I don't even like it."
She gave Crowley the very shiny ring.
"Thank you," said Crowley, because he might be a naughty little crow, but he was a very polite little crow.
The human waved goodbye, and went on her way. Aziraquail landed on the pavement next to Crowley.
"Oh, Crowley," said Aziraquail. "You aren't very good at being naughty, are you?"
"Yes I am!" said Crowley.
Aziraquail smiled. "But you saved the human! And you didn't steal the ring. She gave it to you all by herself, as a reward. Isn't that much nicer?"
"I'm not nice," said Crowley. Oh, Crowley, you silly, silly, crow. "Well, if I'd done it your way, she wouldn't have been saved! So you aren't very good at being nice."
Aziraquail looked sad. Crowley didn't like that. Aziraquail was his friend, and friends don't make each other sad.
"I'm sorry," said Crowley. "But don't you want to know why I wanted the very shiny ring?"
Oh my, Crowley. Why did you want the very shiny ring?
"To be naughty," said Aziraquail. He was still hurt. Sometimes, even when you say sorry, it isn't enough. And that's okay.
"No," said Crowley. He held it out with his little crow beak, and put it on Aziraquail's foot! "It was for you! Because you're my very best friend."
"We're not friends," said Aziraquail. Sometimes, when we're hurt, we say things we don't mean.
Crowley looked sad. "We're not?"
Aziraquail thought and thought. And decided that he had been rather silly. "I'm sorry," he said too. "Of course we're friends. Thank you for the very shiny ring, Crowley!"
Crowley smiled his naughty little smile.
And then, oh my! How cute. Aziraquail leaned over and gave Crowley a kiss on his feathery little cheek. "It's very pretty. I love you, Crowley!"
It is very important to tell your friends that you love them. You don't have to say it with words. Crowley said it with a little kiss back, because he was too shy to speak.
What a very nice crow you are, Crowley.
"I'm not nice!"
"Crowley!"
"Okay, fine, just a little bit."
The End.
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
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"Black Magic" *Part 6*
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Part 5
Part 7
Okay so this one's a bit shorter, but like I said I want to try and keep it a "day" a chapter. Also, I don't think you want this day to be ANY longer.
....I'm so sorry.
Also also---- I'm going out now. I'M SO SORRY.
I'll post another chapter tonight....be strong my babies!
Side note how perfect is the gif with the angry barba and the smirking Olivia....I mean.... what?
Tag List:
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@omgsuperstarg
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@gibbs274
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@objection-argumentative
@aprildecker-blog
@lolliepopsicle
@madamsnape921
@stars-trash-18
-------
You arrived at the door of Rafael's office early once again, knocking this time. You looked like a million bucks. You had taken at least an hour to get ready, your outfit, your hair, your makeup. You were ready to make a move. You knocked again. There was no answer. He should be there, maybe he didn’t hear you. You knocked a little louder. Where could he be? You decided to take a peek and peer open his door to see the most horrifying sight:
Rafael and Olivia, making out on his desk. They both snapped back when they heard the door open.
“Y/N!!” He yelled angrily. “Don't you knock?”
“Oh.. oh my God I'm so sorry sir I'm really sorry. I just brought your morning coffee sir,” You were upset, embarrassed , confused , distraught unable to speak, unable to think.
“Well you should learn not to peep on other people Y/N,” Olivia gave you an evil smirk. “I should get going anyway baby,” she rubbed the lipstick off Rafael's lips. “I have a long day.”
“Oh but I'll miss you carino,” Rafael whined while rubbing his nose against hers in a disgusting fashion.
“I know baby, but maybe we'll have lunch?” She messed with his collar.
“You can count on it,” Rafael growled seductively, smacking her butt as she walked towards the door. “Two can play at your game,” she whispered at you as she walked out
Oh my god. Oh my God oh my god!! How did she know? How was it possible? So many things went through your head at that moment.
“I um, I left something at my desk,” You lied quickly as you headed out the door.
“Olivia!” You called after her angrily suddenly overwhelmed with courage. She stopped and turned and stared at you
“Really? Got some balls on you now do you?”
“What did you do?” You demanded.
“I didn't do anything to him.” She acted innocent. “He just realized that his feelings for me were there all along,” she batted her eyes mockingly. “Isn't that what you did?”
“It's not real!” You barked. “You know it's not real. It'll wear off by tomorrow,”
“Oh I really don't think it will” She held up a water bottle in her purse and it was filled with a….purple liquid? Yep it was purple. Why was it purple? Did she make it stronger? Oh God how strong did she make it?
“Olivia you can't do this to him. I stopped and realized if it wasn't real, I didn't want it.”
“Oh that's bullshit.” She rolled her eyes. “You just brought him his morning coffee. You and I both know that it has that stuff in it. You just needed to refill him but I got there first.”
“No that's not true! You yelled, tears stinging your eyes now. “And he loves me. I know he does.”
“Oh my God you are delusional,” she laughed.” Look I'm happy you had a fun day yesterday but you’re out of your league here, sweetie. He's mine and he always will be? Got it?” She smirked again, then turned and stomped away in her heels leaving you there speechless.
----
You were furious, you were confused, you were upset and then you realized that you had to still continue this day as if nothing was different. Nothing was wrong. You wondered how strong Olivia's stuff was. You wondered what the rules were. Did it block out his feelings for you completely and only focus on her? Did it wipe any memory of you and him at all? Could you break it? You had so many questions you needed to call Chloe but you know you couldn't until your break so you sucked it up and walked back into Rafael's office.
“I'm really sorry about that so earlier,” You did your best to keep from crying. He looked at you with an almost look of disdain.
“Yeah well you really need to be more professional, Y/N.” He scoffed.
"Now you really need to get me copies of these prepositions by noon so that I can go to lunch with my beloved and then go to court.”
“Your beloved?” You spat unintentionally, wanting to gag.
“Excuse you?” He gave you an angry look.
"Look I know that you have some kind of crazy crush on me, but you need to learn that what me and my girlfriend have is something you can't get between so you really need to either control yourself or I will relieve you of your services.” He glared at you.
You couldn't breathe, you felt your heart beating in your chest and your ears. Your palms were sweating, you were having a panic attack. What the hell did she put in her concoction? How did she make him turn so harshly against you?
“I... Yes sir, sorry sir, right away sir,” You whispered grabbing the papers from him running out of the office.
Finally after you got Rafael his copies and he stormed out of his office to go meet his “beloved”, you took the break to call Chloe in tears.
-----
“Oh My God, what happened honey?” She asked, immediately hearing your sobs over the phone.
“She did it,” You sobbed.
“Who did what now?”
“She found the spell! Or some spell. I don't know what she did. I don't know how she could have-- I don't know what she did!!!” You kept sobbing uncontrollably not being able to form coherent thoughts.
“Okay, I'm going to need you to slow down,” Chloe said in a calming manner. “Breathe honey. Use your words. Now explain to me exactly what happened,”
You took several deep breaths trying to compose yourself so that you could explain what was happening to her.
“I went into Rafael's office this morning, and he was making out with that vile woman,” You sniffled.
“What vile woman?”
“Olivia, his ‘beloved’,” you rolled your eyes through your tears.
“His beloved?”
“It's some woman that he works with, and apparently has been in love with him forever. She somehow, I don't know how, figured out what we did to him and she somehow found her own spell. Which I'm pretty sure is not the same one, because it was a purple liquid. AND she not only created feelings for her, she made him hate me!!” You continued to sob.
“...Oh,” Was all Chloe could say.
“OH…?!” You scoffed. “I thought you said that magic laws frowned upon spells like that, controlling people's free will!”
“It does! Good magic anyway,” She sighed.
“What the hell does that mean?” You yelled angrily.
“Well I mean you know there's good witches and bad witches,”
“Oh my God, what in the Wizard Of Oz fuckery--”
“I don't know what to tell you honey. That's how it is. There's good magic and there's black magic. Black magic is all selfish and self-indulgent and instant gratification. She must have gone to somebody who deals in that,”
“Who could it be?”
“I don't know! It's not like they're listed in the yellow pages! WAIT-- Oh my God I think I might have an idea,” Chloe suddenly paused. “...But you're not going to believe me,”
“Oh my God what does that mean?” you asked wearily.
“Well.. you've seen all the movies right? You know like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White,”
“Oh God. Are you seriously going to tell me that true love's kiss can break the spell?”
“Well.. you really don't have any other options right now, do you?”
“CHLOE those are Disney movies for fuck’s sake!!”
“Hey, remember Once Upon A Time? THAT was the ‘real world’, and true love’s kiss brought magic to our world!” Chloe pointed out.
“THAT’S A TV SHOW!!!!!”
“I don't know what else you want me to say here babe. But you should do it. Unless you want to lose him forever to this “Olivia” person. You said that she had a lot of it, right? She could keep this up for as long as she wants. AND the more she gives him the stronger it's going to be and the harder it is going to be to break. I mean he might end up really hating you and firing you, and then your whole life will be ruined. You not only need to break this spell for you to be happy, but before it impacts your entire life,” Chloe warned.
“Oh my God, oh my god…” You whimpered. “I should have never done this.”
“Hey chin up this will work out I'm sure of it!” She said in a chipper tone.
“Okay Jiminy,” You rolled your eyes as you hung up and went back to your office. You did your best to continue with the rest of the day, trying to stay out of Rafael’s way. Which wasn't hard, considering that he was in court most of the day. Around four he texted you and told you that he was no longer in need of your services for the day so you could go home early. Oh also he just HAD to add that he was going to go out with Liv. You wanted to vomit. You headed home and went to brainstorm with Chloe.
-----
“Okay so I've been researching black magic. Chloe had papers sprawled out all over her bed when you came home. “She must have used a combination of love and hate spells.”
“Wait, so you mean actual love spells? Like actually creating fictitious love? Not just magnifying what he felt for her?”
“Correct” she nodded. “I don't think he ever had real feelings for her.”
“Well he said that she and him had a thing, and that he thought about her like that when they first met. So maybe it was going off of that,” You shrugged sadly.
“Another thing we need to figure out is how to get the rest of the potion from her somehow,”
“And just HOW do you expect me to do that?!”
“I don’t...I don’t know,” She shrugged, sifting through her research.
“Chloe, give me something you DO know,” You rubbed your temples; this was giving you a migraine.
“Okay… well, maybe if I talk to my other friends they can figure out a way to counteract the effects even just a little, if you're not willing to or unable to get true love's kiss,”
“Oh God--”
“Hey, I'm just saying”
“Whatever.” You sighed. “My head hurts, my heart hurts, everywhere hurts Chloe,” You whined. “I just want this to be over,”
“Okay honey just-- just go get some sleep, I’ll figure out a game plan for you to use tomorrow,”
“Okay...thank you,” You gave her a small hug and went to your room.
You went to bed with a deep feeling of dread.
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jisungsjheekies · 4 years
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Busted
Genre: Fluff, suggestive
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: A little anxiety, teasing, y/n being a little shit, hot ass makeout, swearing
Requested: Yes
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Watching as the boys filtered out the door, climbing into their vehicle, you waited until they’d pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road before you stepped out of your own vehicle. Making your way up the steps, you knocked on the door and waited. Not even a moment later, the door flung open, revealing a smiling Jisung.
“Hey baby,” you smiled, stepping up to kiss him tenderly. When you pulled away, Jisung started pouting, trying to pull you in for another kiss, causing you to laugh.
“I missed you,” Jisung whined, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and waddling behind you as you walked further into the house. Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his chest.
“I missed you too,” you smiled, pecking the tip of his nose. “What’d you tell them this time?”
Jisung sighed. “I just told them I was too tired to go out. They said they’d bring me back some food.”
“I mean, at least you’re still getting food out of it,” you laughed.
“I just don’t get why you won’t let me tell the guys about us.” Jisung pouted his lips and batted his eyes at you. You threw your head back with a sigh.
“Not yet, okay? You know I’m worried. What if they don’t like me?” you said sadly. From all the things Jisung had told you about them, you could tell they were nice boys and that you’d love them, but what if they didn’t feel that way about you? What if they wanted Jisung to break up with you? You couldn’t risk losing Jisung, it’d break your heart.
“Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that you’re worried over nothing? If I love you, of course they’re going to love you too,” Jisung said, placing his hands over your cheeks and pulling your face close to his. “You just need to trust me.”
“I do trust you, Jisung, I’m just scared…Please, can you just give me a little bit more time?” you begged. Jisung rubbed his thumbs across your cheeks before he pulled you in for a hug.
“Of course sweetheart,” Jisung kissed the top of your head.
“Thank you,” you said before pulling away. “Now, I came over here to bake some cookies.” At the mention of cookies, Jisung’s eyes lit up like a christmas tree as he darted off towards the kitchen. You laughed before quickly following behind him.
You absolutely loved to bake and Jisung loved food, so you figured, if he wanted to eat then he had to at least help a little, which he didn’t mind because he loved being able to spend time with you, regardless of what you were doing. You roamed through the various cabinets, finding all the ingredients that you’d need to bake and placed them on the counter. You instructed Jisung to find a large bowl for you to mix everything in as you began to measure out the ingredients. Once you had finished doing that, you asked Jisung to mix the contents together while you put away the things you no longer needed. You prefered to keep the kitchen clean as you baked rather than saving it all for once you were done, at least then you wouldn’t have so much to do later. Once the kitchen was somewhat clean again, you returned to Jisung, wrapping your arms around his waist as you watched him continue to stir the cookie dough, rather slowly if you were being honest.
“You don’t have to be so gentle, Ji, it’s just cookie dough,” you teased. Jisung huffed before he started, as you’d expected, stirring much more dramatically. You watched as bits of cookie dough flew onto the counter. Now he was just trying to rile you up. You smacked his shoulder, earning a laugh from him as he stopped stirring. Reaching in the bowl, he scooped some of the dough with his finger and turned to face you, offering you the dough. Now it was your turn to rile him up. Smirking, you wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked ever so slowly. Your eyes locked with his as you swirled your tongue around his digit. Jisung bit his lip as he watched you, feeling the way his pants tightened from your actions. As dramatically as you could, you slid off his finger with a pop, licking your lips in the process.
In the next moment, Jisung had you backed up against the counter, his lips pressed roughly against yours. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging just enough to emit a moan from him. Jisung’s hands rested on your hips before sliding around and grasping your ass, pulling your hips into his. You could feel his hard on pressed into you, moaning at the feeling. You bit his bottom lip, pulling on it slightly and releasing it. Jisung hurriedly placed kisses across your jaw and over your throat, leaving a few marks here and there. With your head thrown back against the cabinet, you allowed Jisung to do as he pleased, quiet moans spilling from your lips. Jisung proceeded to move his hands under the fabric of your shirt.
“Too tired my ass,” a voice said, interrupting the moment. Your head jerked to the side, all color washing from your face as you found seven pairs of eyes staring back at you. Scrambling apart, yours and Jisung’s cheeks burned bright as you attempted to readjust your clothes and smooth out your hair.
“Guys, I can explain,” Jisung panicked. Their eyes flickered from Jisung to you, then back to Jisung, a few of them trying to hold back their laughter.
“I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here,” one of them said. Your gaze shifted to the floor, wanting nothing more than for it to swallow you whole. “The least you could do is introduce us.” Jisung looked at you for a moment before sighing.
“This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” Your eyes shot to his nervously. You felt like you could vomit any moment now. Wouldn’t that make for a great first impression? As if it wasn’t already embarrassing enough.
“Well, Y/N, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, I’m Chan.” Chan stepped forward to greet you. You’d thought he was going to shake your hand, but instead, he pulled you in for a hug. Each of the guys introduced themselves just as Chan did, your nerves easing away little by little. At least they weren’t kicking you out.
“I gotta ask, Y/N,” the one named Changbin said. “How did someone as beautiful as you, end up with someone like Jisung?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Jisung whined, causing you to let out a small laugh.
“She’s out of your league, bro,” the one named Hyunjin snorted, shooting you a wink. You giggled, the boys each smiling at you. Jisung rolled his eyes before tugging you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while your back was pressed to his chest. You leaned into him, a smile spreading across your face.
“Wait, why are you guys even here? I thought you were getting food,” Jisung asked in confusion.
“The restaurant closed early so we just decided to come back here and order pizza,” Chan told him, his eyes shifting to you. “You like pizza?” You had to stifle a laugh at his question. Who the hell doesn’t like pizza? After nodding your head, Chan smiled. “Good, you’re more than welcome to stay and eat. I’m sure everyone is interested in getting to know you since someone didn’t want to introduce us.” Everyone’s eyes landed on Jisung as he threw his hands up in surrender.
“Actually, that’s my fault,” you admitted, earning several confused reactions. “I was worried you wouldn’t like me.” Their eyes softened at your confession, Chan bringing you in for a hug.
“If you’re willing to put up with Jisung, we love you,” Chan said. Jisung huffed while you just laughed and pulled away from Chan, returning to your pouting boyfriend, your eyes landing on the abandoned bowl still sitting on the counter.
“You boys like cookies?” Everyone’s eyes widened with excitement as you lifted the bowl for them to see and smirked. “Not to toot my own horn but I make the best.”
“It’s official. We’re stealing her from you.”
________________________________________________________________
Tag List: @skylarrae168 @changbinsir @channiesmixtape @yangomangos @7829-kamie @particularemu
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angryschnauzer · 4 years
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Superior Specimen - Chapter 9 (Final)
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Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.
Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play, Hangovers, Vomiting, Workplace Disputes, Crying, Declarations of Love.
I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.
I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.
Chapter 9
 You woke to a head that was pounding so much you thought someone was trying to crack it open with a hammer. Curled up in a huge white duvet you opened one eye and immediately regretted it, the hangover from hell hitting you like a tonne of bricks. Groaning you pulled the duvet over your head yet the pounding still came, and that’s when you realised it wasn’t just your head, it was something in Henry’s flat.
 Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you glared at the world around you, slowly walking to the doorway before you found the source of the repetitive pounding noise; Henry was running on a treadmill.
 “Morning Princess!” he said cheerfully, pressing buttons on the screen as he started to slow his pace.
 “Oh god, you’re one of those people that don’t get hangovers, aren’t you?”
 Stopping altogether he grabbed a towel that was hanging over the rail, wiping his face as he smugly swaggered towards you;
 “Had a bit of a headache but pounded that out on the treadmill” he wrapped a sweaty arm over your shoulders but you recoiled away;
 “Oh god… you stink...” your stomach lurched at the strong scent of sweat, and you quickly ducked away from his arm, running to the bathroom.
 As you retched into the toilet the contents of your stomach came back to haunt you, the acrid stench of red wine filling the room. With each burst you thought it would be the last, only for your stomach to lurch again and another mouthful of bile filled vomit to come surging up your gullet. 
 You felt a large hand press against your back, softly rubbing, before you felt Henry pull some of your hair out of your face. As your stomach continued to empty itself he held your hair without a word, before finally you were empty. He wrapped a large fluffy towel around your naked body as you sat on the bathroom floor shivering, not realising you were still completely naked. 
 “Hold tight, i’ll get you a glass of water”
 He disappeared, only to return as promised a few seconds later with some water, your acid burned throat croaking out a thank you as you sipped it.
 At arms length he lightly cupped your chin;
 “Are you feeling better now?”
 “Kind of…”
 “You really aren’t a wine girl, are you?”
 “Only expensive £600 a bottle champagne” you said with a weak smile; “That’s why i tend to stick to Gin normally”
 “Hey, let me get you some painkillers then i’ll jump in the shower”
 “Do i have to move or can i just watch?”
 “You can watch, you little perv”
 You smiled at him, watching as he moved around the bathroom before handing you some Panadol from the bathroom cabinet. 
 As he started to strip out of his sweaty workwear he decided to hum along to a striptease, making you laugh before immediately regretting it as your head pounded. You rested your head against the wall as you watched him get into the shower, the large bathroom having a ‘wet-room’ corner to it which provided almost no privacy, but as your eyes followed the bubbles as they flowed down each curve and plain of his sculpted body, you quietly got to your feet and walked over to him.
 Wrapping your arms around his torso you pressed your face to his wet chest, letting the warm water pour down over your body to help wash away the sins of the night before. There were no words spoken, instead he just held you for the longest time before reaching for a sponge and started to gently wash you down.
 -
 Sitting at the countertop you sipped on a cup of tea as Henry unloaded the dishwasher, chatting away as you nursed your hangover;
 “Did you want anything to eat?”
 “Toast? Can you do toast?”
 He smiled;
 “Yes, i can do toast. I’ll even butter it if you want”
 “Just plain is fine. My stomach is still lurching every now and again”
 Minutes later he was setting a plate down in front of you before leaning against the countertop, the tea towel hanging over his shoulder;
 “So, what did you want to do today?”
 You bit into your toast and shrugged;
 “Chill. Going to have to head back to my place at some point seeing as my week off has been ordered to end for my review tomorrow morning” you set the toast down; “Urgh, i hate catching the tube on Monday mornings, its always the busiest time”
 “So let me drive you” you raised an eyebrow as he continued; “Let’s pack your stuff up, i’ll pack a bag, and we’ll spend the night at your place. In the morning i can drive you”
 “You’re at the museum tomorrow?”
 “Not quite, but i’m nearby. I have a meeting with an international contact and then i’ll be making some conference calls from here”
 The rest of the morning was spent finding your belongings around Henry’s flat, he himself managing to pack everything he needed in the space of five minutes into a suit carrier and small holdall. As you left he carried your bags for you and still managed to open doors like a true gentleman. 
 The drive across central London on a Sunday lunchtime was slow at best, the streets filled with tourists and locals, out-of-towners taking advantage of no Congestion Charge on a sunday meaning the streets were filled with people that didn’t know what lane to get into or would stop at flow through traffic spots. When you finally reached your place there was thankfully just one space left in the residents area;
 “I’ll need to run up and grab the flat’s parking permit, otherwise you’ll get clamped”
 Running out of the car you ducked your head down against the light rain that had started to fall, and minutes later when you returned to the car Henry was already standing with all the bags in hand, before taking the permit and sliding it onto the dashboard of the Audi.
 “Urgh, c’mon, let’s get out of this rain. I don’t know about you but an afternoon on the sofa watching movies feels appropriate right about now”
 And that was exactly what you did. A movie marathon where neither of you were paying much attention, instead you spent it curled up on Henry’s chest, encased between his thighs as he propped himself up on one end of the sofa, the only times you were apart were for bathroom or tea breaks. Pizza delivery came and went, and as you tossed the crust of your last slice back into the box you sat back and groaned, before standing and unfastening your jeans. Henry sat back, his hands behind his head and a smirk on his face;
 “Ooh an after dinner show…”
 “Ha-ha… my head is still pounding, and now i’ve eaten too much pizza to get comfortable so these are coming off, don’t get any idea’s big boy”
 He pouted but patted his lap, and you sighed contentedly as you settled across his thick thighs, resting your head against his chest.
 The movie was halfway through when you felt him shift beneath you, and you became aware of his hardness pressing against the underside of your legs. As you moved he let out a quiet moan, you turned to face him he caught your lips with his own, the kiss soft yet demanding. 
 His hands moved to your hips and he was lifting you, moving you to straddle him whilst his lips never left yours. Your hands found their way beneath his t-shirt, running your fingertips over his stomach and up to his chest, feeling his coarse hair curl around them. In turn his own massive hands first found your hips, pulling you down onto his lap, before they found the waistband of your panties and he slid his warm palms between the fabric and cupped your ass, pushing his hips up to rut against your clothed core.
 You needed to feel his skin against yours, and with eager hands you pulled his t-shirt up, letting him take it off completely before he divested you of yours, your bra following soon after as it was flung across the room. Palming your breasts he nuzzled his face against the soft skin, his stubble giving a delicious burn that was only salved by his lips and tongue as they traced wet trails across your skin until he took first one nipple then the other into his mouth, sucking the hardened nubs until you were arching your back with pleasure.
 His hands fumbled with your underwear, trying to pull them off without letting you off his lap, but in the end with a giggle you stood, letting him pull them down before your shimmied your hips to let them fall to the floor. He quickly stood and unfastened his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down to his knees, sitting back down again and pulling you back onto his lap. You wrapped a hand around his hot and aching shaft, feeling the hard muscle beneath the velvet skin, your thumb gently smoothing the clear bead of liquid over the wide crown, before positioning yourself over him, dragging him through your folds to douse him with your wetness, before you slowly sank down onto him;
 “Oh god, Henry…”
 He smoothed his hands up your back, pulling you to his chest as me gazed adoringly at you;
 “Princess, you feel so good around me. You make me want to be inside you at all times… can you ride me, or would you like me to fuck you?”
 “Fuck me, but go slow… i’m kinda hoping the orgasm gets rid of my headache…”
 “Here… let me try something...” 
 He slid one hand all the way up your back, carding his fingers through your hair before gently grasping a large handful and slightly pulling. Your head arched back, the pull on your scalp just the right pressure and immediately releasing the tension in your mind. His lips found your neck, kissing along your jugular before his teeth scraped at your skin. All the while his hips made tiny thrusts up into you, your body taking him with a familiarity of an old lock and key, fitting together perfectly as you were meant to be.
 You could feel your body tightening, your orgasm imminent as Henry’s breathless pants and sighs filled your senses, the closer you got to the end the louder his moans, until you were coming hard, his hand still pulling your hair, and as your body clamped down on his you felt him release deep inside you, filling you with his seed.
 You sat breathless in his arms, his hands now resting warm on your back, your face against his neck. When he spoke his voice was low and you felt the deep rumble in his chest;
 “Are you watching this film?”
 “I don’t think i’ve been paying attention for about the last hour”
 He grabbed the remote and shut the TV off;
 “Lets go to bed”
 -
 Monday morning arrived and you could hear the rain pouring outside, making you curl up under the covers to get closer to the warmth of Henry. Soft cuddles turned into gentle caresses, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth whilst he still kept his eyes closed;
 “What time do you need to be at work?”
 “9am”
 “What time is it now?”
 You glanced at the clock on your nightstand;
 “Just before seven”
 “Hmmmm that’s enough time”
 He was suddenly rolling you over until he was pressing you into the mattress, your arms around his neck as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees, lining himself up with your entrance before sinking all the way in on the first thrust;
 “I could spend every morning like this… in heaven between these thighs…”
 He ground his hips into yours, a smooth curve as he managed to hit all your spots with every single pull and thrust, his efforts speeding up with each push until he was fucking you hard into the mattress, your back arched with pleasure as he did his best to obliterate your pelvis before the first working day of the week;
 “You feel so fucking good, fucking made for me. Can feel you squeezing me, fuck, i just want to take you back to my place and fuck you, have you suck my dick as i take my conference calls…”
 Just the thought of being Henry’s fuck toy was enough to make you cum, crying out as he increased his thrusts and fucked you through your orgasm, moments later shooting another load deep into your trembling walls.
 As you both lay there, bodies still connected you looked up at him and smiled;
 “I could get used to mornings like this”
 -
 You seemed to work around each other without any issues, both finding your places to do your morning routines, and as you left the flat ready for your day you chewed on a slice of toast.
 “Are you going to drop crumbs all over the inside of my car?” he asked playfully
 “Yes”
 “Okay then”
 Traffic through Fulham was busy, and you found yourself checking through emails on your phone as he swore under his breath at other drivers. One in particular caught your eye; from your roommate. Opening it you were surprised to see that he’d been approached by someone wanting to buy the flat as an investment, happy to keep your tenancy agreement under the same terms for the rest of the three year tenancy, with rent kept frozen for that time. Apparently the meeting was scheduled for that day, so he would know a more definitive answer by the end of the day. At least that was one thing off your mind for now.
 By the time Henry pulled into the service road at the back of the museum it was ten to nine. He waved at the security guard as he quickly ran around to your side of the car as you climbed out, kissing you somewhat more chastely than usual;
 “Let me know what happens. Yeah? It’s probably just because your little crime fighting incident, they don’t want to be sued for some minor heroics”
 “Mmmm. I’ll call you later”
 -
 Sitting in your bosses office you stared at him in disbelief. You had been utterly sideswiped by their ambush, pulling out the staff terms and conditions. The weasley little man glared at you from behind his desk, his ruddy face covered in its usual sheen of sweat and grease;
 “You are aware of the regulations regarding inter company relationships?” he stated as a question but it was more of a declaration
 “Sir, that is a load of rubbish. Everyone knows its direct line management. My relationship with Dr Cavill is of no consequence to my daily duties”
 “But what if you suddenly use it to demand additional leave or time off? Or to pass favour to gain a promotion” he closed the 300 page manual with a loud thud; “Rules are rules. It states no member of staff can engage in a relationship with a person of a higher position than themselves”
 You stood up, anger seething through your pores;
 “This is utter bullshit and i’m taking it to the director”
 “You will do no such thing, as he’s already in agreement. Your stupidity last week got us into the Evening Standard, so you are already on the last thread” he glared at you, not used to any member of staff talking back to him; “It’s your job or your silly little fling, you choose, if you are not at your desk come tomorrow morning at 8am you will have your employment terminated with immediate effect”
 -
 Henry was happy, he was smiling to himself as he slowly climbed the staircase in his building, swirling his keys on his finger as he whistled cheerfully. It may have been raining all morning but it had been a good morning; waking up in bed with you, the amazing morning sex, and then the meeting had gone perfectly, the long distance call working out all the finer details of a last minute project. Now he was looking forward to his afternoon of calls to go through the digs and projects he had planned for the winter. 
 However as he climbed the last flight of stairs he slowed, surprised to see you sat on his doormat, your head against your knees as you hugged your legs, soaked from head to toe;
 “Princess?”
 You looked up, your tear stained face making his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He rushed to you, crouching down;
 “What is it? What happened?”
 You sniffed, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face;
 “M-Mr Taylor… he…said...” your sobs meant the rest of your words were incomprehensible, and Henry quickly unlocked his door before lifting you into his arms, carrying your soaked body into his flat and kicking the door shut.
 He set you down onto the sofa, going to the bathroom to grab a towel and wrapping it around your shoulders, before he sat on the coffee table in front of you, taking your cold and shaking hands in his;
 “What happened? Did you walk all the way here in the rain?”
 You nodded, wiping your nose with the back of your hand before you finally found your voice;
 “They found out about us”
 “Who did?”
 “Management. They were pissed that the Evening Standard ran a story about the robbery and how a member of staff saved the day. They don’t like press that brings to light any crimes that happen in the museum”
 “But… you literally saved the day! And what about us?”
 “They pulled the employee handbook out on me. No inter company relationships that cross between levels of management” you took a deep breath; “I’ve got to choose between you and my job Henry…”
 You weren’t paying attention, your vision blurred by tears so you didn’t see the anger rising within him, how he stood and paced to try and calm himself down;
 “That’s ridiculous! Everyone knows it’s ‘line management’. I’m going to call Piers…”
 He was referring to the museum CEO, but you stood;
 “Henry… its why i’ve come here…I have to decide today...” He turned, his face dropping; “... I’ve come to say goodbye”
 His eyes went wide;
 “Princess? Please…”
 “Henry, I’ve got bills, student loans, i’ve got to pay my rent…”
 He crossed the room, cradling your arms in his large hands;
 “Please, don’t do this… you don’t have to do this…”
 “Henry, i don’t have any choice!”
 “Yes you do! Don’t throw this away, this, what we have, it’s special!”
 “I KNOW! But my life isn’t some fairy tale, i have responsibilities! Even if i leave the museum in my own time, i’ll still need a reference, i just just quit!”
 “I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”
 You took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears;
 “I love you too, but love doesn’t pay the bills…” you turned to leave, but he caught your wrist with one hand;
 “It doesn’t need to”
 “My new landlord isn’t going to accept ‘love’ as payment”
 “Yes he will”
 You stopped, looking at Henry, his expression softening as tears pricked at his eyes, his voice quiet;
 “I bought your flat”
 Your lip trembled, and with a gentle tug of his arm Henry pulled you into his arms as you sobbed against his chest, relief coursing through your veins. After the longest time he gently hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your face to his and you saw his cheeks were wet. Without a word he kissed you, his touch soft and caring. Finally you realised just how cold and wet you were, a full body shiver shaking you and he smiled;
 “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes”
 -
 You spent the afternoon curled up quietly sleeping on his sofa, wearing a borrowed t-shirt and work out shorts. Although the t-shirt swamped you, your ass filled the shorts out nicely, and as he wound up his final call of the day you sat back and watched him, listening to his conversation. When he finally hung up he set the phone onto the table before pulling you to sit across his lap.
 “The last time we were sat like this was 24 hours ago…” you smiled at him
 “I haven’t forgotten”
 “We should really talk. I mean properly talk, about everything…”
 He smoothed a hand over your hair;
 “You don’t need to worry Princess… i can take care of everything”
 “But you don’t have to… plus, we are rushing into things… i just need to know what happens if everything turns south in a few weeks time where we haven’t thought things through”
 He nodded;
 “As you wish… but i want to let you know my intention, to be utterly honest with you; you don’t need to worry about money. At all. Whatever you want to call this, whether its a sugar daddy or kept woman or a sponsorship, whatever, I have the finances for you to follow your dreams, i can make them a reality, and i hope you let me come along for the ride” he paused, cradling your face with his massive hand; “I’ve loved you for so long…”
 “Hen… it’s been three weeks?”
 “No, it hasn’t. I figured you would have forgotten… we were on a dig together. My very first dig as site lead, and you were in your first year at University. The excavations around Salisbury Plain…”
 “The Stonehenge route?”
 “That’s the one. I remember trying to organise a dozen Uni first years and being completely shit at it”
 “I...I don’t… how???”
 “I didn’t look like i do now. I was this skinny bean-pole, a mop of hair that was always in my eyes and i thought made me look like I was in charge or like a Professor should look. You were this wild child that was always full of enthusiasm, pink streaks in your hair and baggy combats that made you look like you’d been to a rave, you’d be out digging in the sandy soil in all weathers, prancing into the finds tent in all weathers with your t-shirt plastered to your skin from the rain and without a bra… i swear there were times i was surprised you didn’t poke someone’s eye out with how perky your nipples were”
 “I… I was rebelling against conformity... we didn’t believe in bra’s…”
 “Well i spent most of the six week dig trying to either hide my boner from you or attempting to resist taking you back to my tent when we would get wasted on three litre bottles of White Lightning from Iceland”
 You looked at him, for the first time you really looked at him, taking in the slight curl that was appearing in his hair, staring into his eyes and as you saw the tiny spot of brown in his left eye your gaze went wide as the hazy drunken memories of your first summer at University came flooding back to you;
 “Oh god… that dig… the last night I spent in the supervisors tent…”
 Henry smiled, a genuine soft smile that was unlike any other. He looked younger, the awkwardness of someone who in their mid 20’s hadn’t been confident in any way.
 Your lip trembled, and you nodded;
 “I love you Henry”
 “I love you too”
_________________________________________________________
Authors note: Thank you for reading. This has been my very first Henry story, and what was meant to be a oneshot grew into this epic 20k+ word story.  It was my first time in a very long time that i was writing ‘English’ characters, and this i made a deliberate mental note of to include a more ‘English’ dialect than other stories. Rather than Americanise things, its been kept as the names, brands, and places that i know and am familiar with. If anything has not made sense just drop me an ask and i’ll explain what something is in a more generic term.
I also know i could have taken this story on for thousands more words and multiple chapters, following the lives of these two idiots in love, but as this arc has now run its course, i may add to these two’s story by making future oneshots. 
Epilogue >>>
177 notes · View notes
sumeshi-t · 4 years
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random 1AM horny thots: the boi's reaction when seeing fem!s/o get a food baby after eating too much lol
characters: oikawa and ushijima (for now; might add a few more later on 😙✌🏻)
aksjdjajh pls enjoy my midnight brain vomit. i know this ain't too good and idk if it's been done before or not but oh well, here it goes 🥵
im shy but ackck im gon tag u @seijoh 🥺 i hope u feel better and sleep well tonite
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Oikawa Tooru:
you surprised your bf by going to argentina so you could celebrate his birthday together
you asked help from some of his teammates he's told you about, and they were in on the surprise.
the moment you entered the gym where they trained, he hits a powerful serve, fueled by his excitement after just seeing a glimpse of you from the corner of his eyes. he got a service ace from that, even you were sure it was over 110km/h
then this boy just runs up to you, trapping you in his embrace, your feet off the ground and spinning you around
then comes the cake his teammates got him, someone on the side was actually recording all this. he was already peppering your face with kisses and you two just looked so damn happy even the coach was smiling wtf
so anyway, you guys go out that night and eat
oikawa tells you what food he likes, and what he thinks you were gonna like and he's so spot on like he knows you so well he even brings out the 100% out of your tastebuds—
lol
you were so full from all the food, so full from the love, attention, and affection your boyfriend was showering you that you felt "drunk"
trust me that shit happens. y'know, like food coma? yeah, you ate a lot and it feels like you actually got high on sum dr*gzz
it was time to call it a night, you gave the team some japanese souvenirs as a way of thanking them, not just about tooru's bday, but also because they're taking care of your man really well 🥺
oikawa brings you back to his apartment, apologizes for not having cleaned up and you say you didn't mind because really, it wasn't that dirty or like the jungle-type madness but even then, he goes straight up to at least making the place neat for the two of you so he cleans some of his mess
there was a full body mirror on the far wall, it reflects his bed and him moving about behind you. you were checking yourself out and you ended up chuckling
you put a hand on your low back and another to rub your belly. you were wearing such a body-hugging outfit so the food baby was hella obvious
"look tooru, i'm pregante," you laugh at your own joke and continue to rub your belly
oikawa lichrally stops. and just stares. at your smiling face then down to where your hands were placed.
this boy gulps. why was he feeling so thirsty all of a sudden-?
when you didn't hear him respond, you turn to look at him and he was already making his way toward you.
he wraps his arms around you, hands on your belly. there was no music but you two were swaying to the sound of each other's heartbeats.
without a word, his lips went straight for your neck, nipping and sucking; his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, hands busy touching you everywhere.
you see him smirk while whispering, "seeing you like that babe, it just makes me want to knock you up so bad,"
next thing you know you were both naked on the bed, facing the mirror
you were on your knees, watching yourselves as your boyfriend took you from behind, your back arched against his chest while his hand gripped on your neck and the other firm against your hickey-filled abdomen; cum was already leaking out of your abused hole you actually lost count how many times the two of you came—
this was a fulfilling kind of feeling full.
and sure enough, you were bringing home with you a different kind of surprise when you went back to japan.
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Ushijima Wakatoshi:
it was The Grandma Ushijima's 80th birthday
yeah that lady who wanted to correct your boyfriend's left handedness. she's still alive n kicking
yours and ushijima's schedules were freed up for a few days to help out in the celebration and of course, you stay in the Ushijima ancestral home
yes, ancestral home. tatami mats and all. but high quality ones with silk covers and stuff.
his family didn't mind having you two sleep in the same room; bc ngl they've been wanting a great grandchild.
the sooner the better
like fuck marriage, they want to see results first.
in the three days you spent there, you notice how yours and wakatoshi's tea is different, like is that some kinda ginseng floating around there-? type of different
or how they dug up all of his cute baby pics aww, look at his cute bare bottom
i also hc wakatoshi used to thumbsucc the left thumb it b cute and adorable, you were gushing until whoever was talking to you say that they can't wait to see him have a son or a daughter
anyway, the party soon came along
wakatoshi loved it when he saw you playing with the cousins' children, and how much you just fit in with the family
if he could, he'd have gotten on his knee there to propose, though he didn't have a ring... also, he didn't want to steal the spotlight from his grandma
sometimes he wonders if you were actually a long lost relative
bc also goddamn, your cooking is *chef's kiss* top notch, michelin chef, gordon ramsay approved
and what better way to reward yourself for a job well done is to self-appreciate the craft you yourself created
needless to say, your big appetite got yourself a big food baby after dinner
thus it was now bedtime, children were now asleep, other relatives already back in their own homes
this was the last night you two were staying over
you were lying on your side, face to face with wakatoshi; you were the one mostly doing the talking, jumping from family matters to his volleyball career
then your hand idly rested on your belly, rubbing it, and then you laugh, recalling the encounter you had with some of the Ushijima elders and aunts
"toshi, they really want me to get pregnant so bad. do you think they'll stop pestering me if i show myself like this?" you pat your food baby belly and snicker
his eyes wander towards your belly and he just froze in his spot
the sight of and the prospect of you carrying his child in that body of yours just flipped a switch inside of him. he reaches for your face, eyes now locked with yours. you melt under his big, warm hand, unaware of the brewing storm of emotions your boyfriend was having
"y/n"
"hmm?"
"i think the aunts are right,"
"what...?"
"i... want you to have my child, but... do you?"
which basically translates into "i want to fuck your brains out, may i?"
consent is sexy mhhm
he's so gentle, so careful with his movements, he treats your body like a sacred temple, his every kiss a wordless declaration of worship;
this baby bear was honestly just afraid of breaking you because he knows after that night, wakatoshi jr. will be next who's going to stir up your insides to make space for its growth
you really had to beg him, "more, harder!"
you really had to taunt him, "how are you gonna make me pregnant if you don't go deeper–oh,"
wakatoshi let go of the last string of self-control he had, that your face was pushed against the tatami mat, ass in the air, your hips slapping against each other
you oh-so-tried not to make much noise, but you knew how much wakatoshi loved that
you were sure that anyone who happened to pass by that room was gonna be so embarrassed yet so elated at the huge possibility of having another member to The Ushijima clan
204 notes · View notes
thetravelerwrites · 4 years
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Seznik (Drow) Lemon
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Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Drow Additional Tags: Drow, Monster Boyfriend, College, Sexual Harassment, Terrible Teachers, Relationship Goals, Sex Words: 2133
A continuation of @cozycryptidcorner​‘s monster match! A professor at the reader's school has a secret that could get him in a lot of trouble, and the reader is determined to expose it, with her drow boyfriend's help. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist
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There’s always a learning curve when you start a new school. You figured that was all it was, that once you got used to your new classes and new professors and new classmates that it would get easier, and for the most part it did. There was only one class you seemed to struggle in: 3D sculpture. Instructor Bitner, whom everyone but you was allowed to call Justin, just seemed to dislike you from the moment you stepped into his classroom for the first time. You were sure at first that it was just a clash of personalities, but after a month, however, you were convinced he had it out for you.
You stomped into your apartment as Seznik was entering the kapotasana pose, the bendy fuck. He’d completed college the year before and was spending a year off before sending out resumés. He was fortunate enough to have parents who cared about his education and well-being and had the audacity to be chipper about it.
“More trouble with Justin?” Seznik asked.
“Don’t call him that like you’re friends,” You said, flouncing down onto the couch.
“I’ve never had a problem with him,” Seznik replied. “Maybe he just doesn’t like how abrasive you are sometimes, and you know you can be.”
“I’m not abrasive, I’m direct. It’s a rare virtue,” You told him with a sniff. “Besides, you’re not going to believe this, but he’s failing me because he knows I won’t put out.”
Seznik fell out of his pose awkwardly. “What?”
“I overheard a classmate brag to her friend that she’s been getting better grades or extensions because she gives Instructor Bitner blowjobs on the weekends.”
“You’re kidding,” Seznik said, pulling himself up on his knees. “That’s a complete ethics violation. He definitely could get fired for that.”
“He should get fired for it,” You said bitterly. “I wish I could take this to the dean, but I don’t have proof.”
“So get some,” Seznik said. “Wear a wire and flirt with him. Or hell, if he likes men, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t think he likes guys,” You said thoughtfully. “A lot of the guys in the class were bitching about him. I don’t think he gives them breaks, so he’s probably straight.”
“Hmm,” Seznik hummed, sitting next to you on the couch. “Let me make a call.”
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Turns out, Seznik had a cousin, Tiel, who was a private investigator. Tiel was shorter, a paler purple than Seznik, and had silver hair rather than white. He came that following Sunday to discuss how to conduct the investigation.
“First, video is better than audio for catching him with his pants down, literally and figuratively,” Tiel told you, giving you a belt buckle with a camera hidden in it. “Seznik will be observing from a distance, probably in a car outside nearby or an empty classroom.”
“Should we inform the dean?” You asked him.
Tiel tsked. “I’m torn, because on the one hand, some deans would accept your complaint and start a formal inquiry, and on the other there are those who defend their faculty. Can you say for certain which is which?”
You frowned. “No, I don’t know him that well.”
“So we get the evidence first, then.” He pointed at Seznik. “When you think you have enough evidence, or if we see some sort of dangerous situation happening, Seznik will call you and you make an excuse to leave. Take whatever evidence you have to the dean.If the dean doesn’t do anything, take it to the college’s board of directors. If that doesn’t work, leak it to the internet and let people sort it out. Simple enough?”
“Sounds like it,” You said. “But I don’t know if he’ll even be open to me trying to seduce him. I don’t think he likes me on a personal level.”
“You don’t have to like a person to accept a blowjob from them,” Tiel said flatly. “Besides, you won’t be seducing him. It’s very important not to ask leading questions. Think about this like going undercover in a criminal investigation. It’s very important that he initiates the exchange. You can be flirty and coy, but don’t offer anything. He needs to be the one who asks. Be available, not seductive. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, completely,” You said. “Only problem is, I don’t know how to be flirty, really. I got Seznik because I nearly beat him up.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a masochist.” Tiel snickered. Seznik shrugged and nodded. “I can’t tell you how to flirt, but I’d suggest maybe giving him reason to infer that you’d suck his dick for a better grade.”
You made a horking sound, but nodded your head in agreement.
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The next day, you actually didn’t have his class, but waited until his last class let out before walking at his door as the students filed out. A few of them smirked at you knowingly, but no one said anything. You were wearing the belt buckle while Seznik waited in an empty classroom, watching and recording the feed on his tablet.
“Mr. Bitner?” You called from the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“What do you want? I’m busy,” He said, not even looking up from his paperwork.
You stuffed down your seething rage and came into the classroom, closing and locking the door behind you. Bitner looked up at the sound of the lock clicking in place and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, I think you may have gotten the wrong impression of me. I really admire you as a teacher, and I wanted us to have a better working relationship, you know what I mean?”
He looked at you appraisingly, and you noticed his glance lingered on your breasts, and you choked down some vomit.
“I think I understand,” He said. “I’m not against the idea of working more closely, if you’d like. Did you have a particular concern you wanted to bring to my attention?”
Your creeper sense was activated, but you trudged onward.
“My last grade, actually. I was wondering if there was anything I could do to bring it up? Some kind of extra credit? I’ll do whatever you want me to do, I promise.”
His hand was moving stealthily toward his crotch, and you flicked your eyes to the same place and then back to his face quickly in an effort to seem like you’d looked accidentally, biting your lip in an attempt to seem enticing. You hoped you weren’t coming across as psychotic, which is how you felt.
“I think something can be worked out,” Bitner said, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs a little wider. “You understand what I mean?”
“Yes, sir,” You said, trying to make your voice low and sultry. “I do understand.”
“Good,” Bitner said, and he reached down and undid his pants, plopping his wrinkly old man dick, short and stubby, onto his lap. You floundered for a second before your phone rang.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” You said, pulling out your phone. Bitner frowned but said nothing. His bits still lay in his lap, seeing sunlight for the first time in decades, probably. “Hello?”
“Sounds like you’re having fun,” Seznik said.
You swallowed your annoyance. “Are you sure?”
“You tell me,” He laughed.
You sighed and tsked as if disappointed. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You hung up and turned to Instructor Bitner. “I’m sorry, there’s a problem at home. Maybe we can pick this up again… later?”
He made a noise of aggravation and stuffed himself away. “Fine. But there’s a deadline. Don’t make me wait too long or the opportunity will pass you by.”
“I understand,” You said, your stomach churning with disgust. You forced yourself to say thank you and unlocked the door, walking out into the hallway. You dashed to the room where Seznik had set up shop. He was sitting with his headphones on and watching his tablet, smirking.
“I can’t believe you didn’t crotch-shot that guy,” Seznik said, taking off the headphones, his long ears flicked one after the other as he did so.
“I wanted to, trust me,” You said. “Let’s go home. We can take this to the dean tomorrow. Dealing with him was exhausting.”
Back at home, he set the tablet down on the kitchen table and you started taking off your jacket. Seznik grabbed the fabric as you did so, effectively pinning your arms behind you, pulling you against him.
“Did seeing old man junk get you excited or something? You asked.
“No,” He said, kissing your neck. “But you outing a pervert and probably getting him fired and discredited is pretty hot, I have to admit.”
You could help but nod. “Yeah, that was pretty badass.”
Holding your hands behind you with one of his, he used the other to whip your belt out of the belt loops of your pants and discard it, bending you over the kitchen counter. He pulled down your pants one-handed and spread your legs open, pressing his face between your thighs. You didn’t stop him, biting your lip as his talented tongue found your slit with ease, slipping inside and swirling around a little before suctioning onto your clit and flicking it back and forth in his mouth.
You chuckled. “You know what, yes. I earned this,” You said breathlessly.
“Yes, you fucking did,” He said, slightly muffled. He sucked at your pearl as he used the free hand to work his fingers into you, and your eyes rolled back in your head. Being in a relationship as long as you had with Seznik lent the two of you the knowledge of how to please each other efficiently. The first one you got for free. The second you’d have to work for.
Your thighs began to shake as the muscles in your feet contracted involuntarily, popping you up on your tip toes. You moaned as the orgasm hit you, feeling your inner walls clamping down on his fingers. He stood up and shed his clothes as you recovered, pulling off the jacket that held your arms in place. He then jumped up onto the counter, laying out flat.
“Babe, that is so dangerous,” You said.
He laughed and shrugged. “What’s life without a little risk?”
You rolled your eyes and lifted yourself up over him, straddling him, and eased his cock inside you. The counter was rather narrow, and you were feeling a little bit of vertigo, but you shook it off and rode like a champ. He had a powerful grip on your hips as you grinded on him, so you doubted you’d have fallen anyway.
He thrust up into you as you came down on him, creating a fabulous friction that propelled you toward the crest even faster than the first time, except he grabbed, pull you down, and stopped altogether, denying you that pleasure. You groaned in disappointment. He chuckled in your ear.
“Not so fast, buttercup,” He said. He managed to roll the both of you without falling off the countertop and slammed into you hard. You cried out in surprise and delight, pulling his ear sharply. He hissed and laughed. He took off, ramming into you fast and hard, and you held on for dear life. You forgot the possibility of falling, you forgot your disgusting teacher, you forgot everything as the pleasure whited out your brain and left you feeling like your bones had been removed and you were made of jelly.
He grunted and strained, flooding you and pulsing. You locked him in place with your legs, not letting him move and inch until he was spent. He collapsed on top of you and wheezed.
Slowly, carefully, the two of you climbed down off the counter. Moving to clean yourself up, you reached down and picked up your pants to extract your phone when you remembered the camera.
“Hey, babe?” You asked. “Are you still recording?”
He seemed confused, lifted up the tablet, which had been face down on the table, and laughed. “I guess we’ll have to edit this out before we take it to the dean.”
“Don’t delete it, though,” You said, coming up behind him. “That’ll be for us.”
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You submitted the evidence to the dean the next day. By the end of the week, Bitner had been fired. It was extremely satisfying to see him boxing his things up and walking out of the building for the last time.
Seznik was with you in the parking lot as Bitner loaded his crap into his car and drove off, never to be seen on campus again.
“You did good, babe,” He said. “You did real good.”
“Hell yeah, I did,” You said with a satisfied smile.
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My Masterlist
The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist
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Text
Getting away with it (2/?)
Summary: August Walker was dead. At least that’s what people believed for almost 2 years. When the CIA found reason to believe that he was alive they made it their top priority to find him. Including sending one of their best female agents to recruit his twin brother. Walter Marshall.
Pairing: August Walker x Reader (Walker) + Walter Marshall x Reader (Walker)
Warnings: none yet
Wordcount: 2.457
A/N: We’re slowly getting started with the plot. Hope you like it :)
Masterlist
Part 1
Taglist:
@ladyreapermc / @theolsdalova / @greenmanalishi / @itsmydreamlifethings / @palaiasaurus64 / @celestial-vomit / @penwieldingdreamer/ @notyourtypicalrose / @babypink224221 / @fanficsrusz / @solariumss / @starlite13 / @ly–canthrope / @mytbel0st / @oddsnendsfanfics / @ravenpuff02 / @sofiebstar / @chamomilebottom / @keiva1000 / @agniavateira / @peaceinourtime82 / @dearlybelovedluke / @vania-marie / @wildwavehc / @fcgrizi / @mary-ann84 / @ayamenimthiriel / @radaofrivia / @ohjules/ @omgkatinka / @xceafh /  @diehadess / @watermeloncavill
@its-jb86 / @singeramg / @mrrightismrreeves / @mis-lil-red  (I can’t tag you guys. Sorry)
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Cemetery, Langley, Virginia, 2 years ago
It was a rainy day. The skies hang dark, the rain pouring down. A typical day for a funeral. But then again it really wasn’t a funeral in the least. August watched the few people that were standing around an empty grave from his hiding spot behind a tree. He could see the silhouette of his wife who was holding Evie close. He couldn’t see her face, and knowing her she wouldn’t be shedding a tear for him. 
She didn’t understand why he had to do, what he was still planning on doing. Making the world a better place for the next generation. His daughters generation.
Ever since he knew he would be a father August did everything with his daughters best interest in mind. Even if it meant lying to Walker about it. Knowing her she would be furious at him for his lies. He knew her like the back of his hand, she would blame herself for everything that happened before she would finally blame him.
But who really was to blame was the world. Their corrupt leaders. The politics. The weak people who didn’t stand up for themselves. That was why he wanted to steal those plutonium cores. So only the strong survived. Like him. His wife. His daughter.
Evie would make a great leader one day, he was sure of it.
“We have to go.” A voice whispered behind him, making his head snap over his shoulder, glaring at one of his remaining members.
“I’ll find you at the drop point.” August nearly growled.
“Yes Sir.” The man stammered, walking away immediately. 
August didn’t know when or if he would see his family ever again. So he watched them for a couple minutes more as they were standing around the empty grave, silently saying goodbye, before he turned around and left them for good.
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CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“You tell me, Agent Walker, that you didn’t know your husband was the leader of a terrorist group? And you call yourself CIA…” The older Agent mocked.
“Like I told you the last 15 times. I haven’t seen August in almost 3 months before he died. Yes I recognized that his behaviour changed, that he stayed out longer, that he changed the passwords of his devices. But honestly? I was thinking he was having an affair. I would have prefered if he had an affair. What would you think if your wife suddenly stayed out longer? Would your first thought be that she must surely be leading a terrorist group?” Walker asked. The older Agent crossed his arms in front of his chest as he looked down at her. It was her fourth constant day of being interrogated. And she didn’t have any answers. She knew this was frustrating for the CIA, but it was even more frustrating for her.
She had been allowed a week for herself after news broke of the attack. She had brought Evie over to her Mom’s place and had spent the whole night drinking in front of the TV watching the news. She kept looking down at her wedding ring. Remembering the day she agreed to be his wife so detailed, she wanted to drink until she forgot it. Forgot what happened. 
Walker knew August had been hiding something. It was in the year Evie was born that he had started to change. He kept being on the phone instead of talking to her. The only time he really was present was when he was taking care of Evie. He was a good father. That probably was the reason she kept her mouth shut, when he snapped at her. She could see how sorry he was after he yelled at her after every single time. 
“I’m doing all I’m doing for your and Evie. I want you to live your life in safety.” 
The sentence kept repeating in her head. It was what he always said when they had another argument. When his arms were wrapped around her and he was kissing her head. After they had sex and he was pressed against her back, his leg over hers, his hand beneath her head. She always felt safe in his arms. She would probably even forgive him if he had a simple affair. But when three weeks ago the CIA was contacted with the real identity of John Lark, and she was sent to London to get through to him…
She would never forget the look in his eyes. How he looked right through her as she talked to him.
“August please. You know this will end with you dead. You know that. There is no way you can escape the CIA. There will be no place on this planet they won’t search for you.” Walker pleaded, standing across from him. August breathed in deep, his whole posture on edge.
“Please leave now.” August growled.
“What should I tell Evie, hm? When she asks about her father? Should I tell her he’s a insane terrorist who wants to kill a third of the world's population?” Walker asked.
“I’m doing this for her.”
“Yeah… You keep saying that, but do you believe it?” Walker reached for her gun. 
“You really think you can shoot me?” August mocked.
“Someone has to.” Walker breathed.
“How will you tell Evie that you murdered her Father?” He asked.
“I will make sure that she won’t remember you.” 
An explosion had interrupted their argument, giving August the perfect chance for his escape. Walker had met with Ethan after she had gotten out, telling him everything that could help him to take August down. With which he had apparently succeeded. Or so he thought.
“You will be helping us to get every detail of his life. We need to be prepared for what’s coming.” The older Agent said.
“I already told you everything I know.”
“You have to tell us about your daughter.”
“Absolutely not.” Walker shook her head.
“There is no room for argument her, Agent Walker.”
“You will leave my two year old daughter, who just lost her father out of this. Me you can have. I don’t care what you do with me. But Evie? No way.”
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Minneapolis, Minnesota, now
“She’s not going to bite my finger?” Evie asked concerned, looking up at Walker. Grinning Walker knelt down next to ther.
“She’s not going to bite your finger. Look at her. She just wants that yummy lettuce you are holding.” Walker explained, earning a sigh from her Daughter. They had spend the whole day at the zoo and Evie had been so excited to feed the giraffe. Until she was standing in front of it. 
“Hmm…. ‘kay.” Evie said. Walker chuckled as she got back on her feet again, Evie clutched her hand as she slowly walked towards the giraffe. Walker nodded thankful at the keeper. Holding out the lettuce in front of her, Evie stepped closer to the giraffe who immediately spotted her snack and bend closer, her big tongue grabbing the lettuce from Evie, making her giggle.
“That… tickles.” The little girl giggled excited.
“See? And all your fingers are still there.” Walker smiled, making Evie breathe out relieved.
“Can we do that again?” She asked.
“Next time. If I remember correctly we have a date with the water slide at the hotel…”
“YAY!” Evie jumped
However these plans were interrupted when Walker got back to the space she parked her rental car in, finding it nowhere to be seen. She remembered exactly where she parked the car. 
“Motherf….” She cursed, stopping as she looked at Evie.
“Where is our car?” Evie asked confused.
“I’ve been just asking myself the same question, Buttercup.” Walker sighed. She was already reaching for her phone, calling 911. After a quick call to the local police station Walker had to come clear that her rental car had been stolen. Calling an Uber to the police station she waited while Evie was collecting Daisies on the side of the road. 
“What are you doing?” Walker asked. There was no point in getting upset over the stolen car. That was what insurances were for. It’s not like she couldn’t change it.
“Making you a Daisy crown.” Evie laughed.
With a bag full of collected daisies they stepped inside the police station. Evie was holding her mother's hand in a tight grasp, being intimidated by all these big men walking around her. Evie only really knew her grandfather and Uncle Miller, how she called Agent Miller. Ever since August died Walker hadn’t been involved with anyone. Too afraid of getting hurt again. Walker was just about to tell the police man in front of her why she was here, when she heard her name being called. A shiver ran through her body when she heard that voice. How could she have forgotten that he could be here. Looking down at Evie who was hugging her leg, she thought of what to do when Marshall made his way over to her.
“What brings you here?” Marshall asked, nodding to the other police officer who excused himself.
“It looks like my rental car has been stolen. We came here straight from the zoo.” She smiled uncomfortably, her hand coming down on top of Evie’s head. Evie was looking up at Marshall with a frown. Like she was trying to figure out where she knew him from.
“Well that su…” Marshall looked down at Evie, clearing his throat. “That’s not good.” He continued making Walker nod her head, sucking in her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing.
“Yeah. We had a date with a water slide, didn’t we Evie?” Walker asked. Evie nodded. Marshall got down on his knees to look at Evie. Walker held her breath, trying to control the numerous feelings inside her body as she watched the two of them. It seemed so familiar, yet so different. Even if August and Marshall were twins, the way Marshall smiled at Evie, holding out his hand which Evie took hesitantly to shake. Marshall looked up at Walker, his hair a wild mess on top of his head, a small smile on his face. Swallowing she sighed.
“You have the same hair as I do. Mommy always says I got them from my Daddy.” Evie said, her hand hesitantly reaching out towards Marshall but not really touching him.
“Really?” Marshall asked. Evie nodded.
“He died when I was littleler.” Evie shrugged, hugging Walkers leg closer.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Marshall said to her, then looking up at Walker.She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. He got up from his knees, his musky smell with a hint of aftershave getting to Walkers nose. When she opened her eyes and looked up at him she could see the sympathy in his. For a little moment she let herself get lost in his eyes, recognizing the many things that were different from August, finding so much sadness in them that seemed to mirror her own she had to shake her head after a while to look away from him.
“Let’s see if we can find your car.” Marshall said quietly. 
Sitting in his office Walker knew he was about to find out who she really was, and possibly who she had been married to. Chances were that he already knew who August was. His face had been spread over the news for weeks after the incident. Thankfully her name and Evie’s were never brought up.
“You wanna draw something while we do this grown up stuff, Evie?” Marshall asked. Evie nodded excited as she sat in the chair next to Walker, already reaching for the pencil Marshall handed her, getting right into drawing, oh wonder, a bunny. Chuckling Walker looked from her to Marshall.
“She’s obsessed with bunnies.” She said, making Marshall smile a little.
“I remember Faye being obsessed with bunnies too when she was that age.”
“You have a daughter too?”
“Yeah. She’s living with her mother.” Marshall swallowed, looking away from Walker to type into his computer.
“Now… I need your full name and address.” He said.
“You sure you have time for this? How long has it been since you last filed a robbery report?” Walker asked.
“A while. And yes, I’m sure.” He looked up at her with the hint of a smirk.
“Okay. Then let me make this easier…” Walker sighed, reaching for her badge in her purse, sliding it over the table. Marshall looked down from the badge, up to her face, a line forming between his eyes as he typed her badge number into the computer.
The silence that spread that was only interrupted from the pencil running over the paper where Evie was drawing. Sucking in her bottom lip, a thing Walker only did when she was nervous, she waited if Marshall would connect the dots right away. She heard his calm breathing as he typed and clicked, before he pushed the badge back to her, his eyes still on the computer screen in front of him. 
Seconds stretched into minutes before Marshall finally looked up at her. His eyes confused and cold.
“You were married to…” He looked down at Evie, not finishing the sentence.
“I saw the news back then. It was like looking into a mirror. I tried to find out more, but everything was classified.” He said quietly.  Walker breathed in deep.
“I think I can answer most of your questions. But… not here.” She motioned to Evie who was still drawing. Marshall looked at her a little longer before his eyes were on Walkers again.
“Okay. Then let’s just file that report first.” He nodded.
It only took 15 minutes to file the report she needed to get to the rental car service and her insurance company.  Evie had drawn a whole army of bunnies when they were finished, gifting Marshall one of her drawings, which made him smile.
“I’ll be at your hotel at 9pm, like we discussed.” He said as he escorted Walker and Evie outside.
“Just go straight up to our room. I don’t want to leave her alone.” Walker agreed, seeing him nod.
“Thank you for your help today, Marshall.” She said honestly.
“You’re welcome.” He nodded.
“Thank you Mr. Policeman.” Evie smiled up at him. Marshall chuckled.
“You are more than welcome Evie.” He said, holding out his hand which Evie shook wildly, making the adults laugh.Walker took Evie’s hand to walk away when Marshall looked at her.
“Was he my brother?” Marshall asked quietly. Walker stepped closer to him.
“He is your brother.” She said, her eyes not leaving his, before she nodded and turned around to take Evie back to the hotel.
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abused-sides · 4 years
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Be Brave [Whumptober]
Note: I’m doing whumptober as a series. Check out the tag #whumptober 2020 v on my blog to read in order. Also on ao3.
Prompt: No. 6: Please… [No More] 
Synopsis: Virgil and Janus are punished for trying to escape. 
Trigger warnings: Cults, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, kidnapped, non-con, humiliation, treating people like property, blood, knives, violence/beatings, a person in a cage, guns, body horror/gore, reference to murder/hate crimes/child death/minor character death, vomiting, let me know if I missed anything 
Word count: 1455
A/N: I had to do a lot of really sad research for this lol. 
October 9th. 12:55 am. 
Virgil hyperventilated beside him. 
Bates' velvet voice boomed over the auditorium. He didn’t need a microphone. You’d think there’d be cheers, applause when he took breaths, but no— Everyone sat on the edge of their seats, deadly silent. 
“...after we showed our good will in bringing Janus mercifully back to us, after saving him from the trash can that lives outside our family, and even going as far to rescue his friend and cut into more of our resources to feed and house him, they conspire against us and try to abandon us.” 
Bates’ voice cut into his chest. He dragged in slow, quiet breaths. Everything in him screamed to reach out to Virgil, take his hand and promise him they’d survive this, but the ropes dug into his wrists and the tape wouldn’t budge from his mouth. 
“We simply cannot take this abuse any longer. We’re doing a majority vote here. We can either release these poor victims back into the cesspool and the murder and the rape and the garbage, or we can give them a little taste of it, here, in safety, and let them decide whether to stay or not. Everyone in favour of release?”
It was no surprise when everyone’s hands stayed down. Bates asked the second option, and among the hands raised were whoops, applause, and shouting. Janus shivered. 
“As much as I’d love the honour to help them both, I simply can’t divide my attention. It wouldn’t be fair to them, anyway. I ask my closest partner, Styx, to help me with the lesson. Remus, you come up, too, get ready to step in.” 
Styx climbed the steps to the stage with a grin. He unfolded a long, black leash and clipped it to Virgil’s collar. “Don’t worry, pet. We know you’re just confused. We’re going to save you.” 
To the side of the stage, Bates pulled a newspaper off a table. He held it open towards the audience. “Three days ago four men broke into a single parents’ apartment, tied her and her child down, and forced the two to watch as they stabbed them to death. Why don’t we start there?” 
The crowd cheered. Sweat dripped down Janus’ back, pooled on his top lip. Tears streamed down Virgil’s red face. 
Bates and Styx turned them around to face each other. The crowd's energy was a white noise, cicadas buzzing in Janus’ ears. Virgil stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Bates and Styx unsheathed their knives, and tears pricked Janus’ eyes. 
He couldn’t breathe. 
Bates rested a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Be brave. At least you’ll survive this. Remus?”
Remus rushed over and knelt between them, gesturing over Janus. “You want to go under the belly button, Bates. Any higher and he’ll bleed out too quickly for me to help. Stay away from the chest and anything above, including the shoulders— That goes for both of you. Lower arms and legs are okay as long as you let me in one time.” He turned to Virgil and rested a hand over his abdomen. “Styx, stay away from his abdomen. His ovaries, uterus, all of that stuff will bleed out far too quickly and he will die.”
Virgil’s hyperventilating reached a head as he choked on his sobs and the gag in his mouth. 
“I know you two have a lesson to teach,” he said lowly, “but please know when to stop.” 
Bates waved him away, and it was like a death sentence. Janus sucked in a choking gasp as blunt paint erupted in his abdomen, stealing all his breath. Did he fucking punch me? It wasn’t until Bates yanked the knife out only to drive it back in that he knew what happened. He cried out, warm liquid running down his stomach and thighs. 
Virgil was so quiet Janus worried he was dead. Through his blurred vision, Virgil bit his lip hard enough to split the skin, eyes squeezed shut. Bates stabbed him several more times, in the forearm and calves, before sheathing the bloody knife and stepping aside. He gestured to Janus, and Remus rushed in with his backpack. 
Styx held Virgil up by his leash and drove the knife into his shin. Virgil sobbed as Remus laid Janus on his back. He undid his binds and stretched his arms and legs out, cutting away the bottom half of his shirt and away his jeans. Janus’ vision swam as Remus worked on stopping the bleeding. He was vaguely aware of his legs being elevated, something pushing against his back to prop him upright, Remus talking, but he was hot all over and he wanted to throw up. 
He couldn’t tell how long it had been before Remus hurried back into the wing and Bates lowered Janus’ legs. Virgil cried out as Styx dropped his. 
“Are you starting to get it?” Bates laughed. “This is the kind of thing you were running back to. Is this really where you want to be? Janus?” 
He pulled Janus gag out, and he gasped for breath. “No,” he managed. “No, I’m sorry, please-”
“We’re not done yet.” He shoved the gag back in and picked up a piece of printer paper. He held it to the audience. “This is a picture of 11-year-old Sadie Winters. She was walking home from school when an unknown person choked her to death and left her there. Shall we move on to poor Sadie?” 
Bates pulled the string out of his hoodie and wrapped the two ends around his fists. Styx clamped Virgil’s leash around his throat and held tight. 
“Don’t be so impatient, Styx,” Bates sighed before the hoodie string tied around Janus’ neck. 
“Okay, you have to be quick!” Remus cried hastily. “I’m serious, don’t push it, you can kill them in minutes!” 
Ringing filled Janus’ ears as his vision blurred. Black spots grew, and it was like his head was ready to explode. His pain washed away as his eyes rolled back. 
He gasped as Bates smacked him in the face, eyes flying open. “You ready to go again?”
“Bates-”
His voice broke, his throat screaming. Bates hauled him back upright and pulled the string back around his throat. A few seconds later, the black swallowed his vision once more. His entire body tingled. He was still half-passed out as his stomach lurched and vomit forced its way up his throat. 
“Get back, get back! Hey, sit up.” Remus’ voice was soft in his ear as he helped Janus to sit upright. His stomach contracted and pulled, sending agony through Janus’ body, as he retched onto the stage, his vision dark, spotty, and blurred. “Bates, I obviously can’t tell you what to do, but if you don’t move on, they will die.” 
“Well, that certainly isn’t the point of this exercise,” Bates huffed. “We’ll move on. We only have a few more to get through then everyone can break for dinner.” 
“Shh, shh, you’re going to be okay,” Remus hushed as he took out Janus’ gag. “You have to breathe, please breath, Jan-Jan.”
“I can’t do any more,” he whimpered. “Please stop him.” 
Remus cupped his face. “I can’t. You know I can’t. But I’m going to make sure you two are okay, alright? Just hold on a little longer.” 
Janus buried his face in Remus’ shoulder and gripped onto him. “Please.” 
“I’m so sorry it’s come to this, Janus,” Bates said with a frown. “Are we starting to realize why you’re better off here?”
He nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, I’ll never try to leave again, please, please stop, please no more!” 
Bates hummed, watching him curiously. His gaze slid to Virgil, who grimaced as Styx stroked his cheek. “And Virgil? How are you feeling?”
“The only people doing this to us is you,” he snarled, “you sick fuck, let us go!” 
Dread washed over Janus like he’d been set on fire. Bates sighed. “I guess we continue. Poor, confused thing.” He came over and ran his fingers through Janus’ hair. 
“Please let me go,” Janus whimpered. “I won’t leave you again.”
He smiled. “No. You two are a team. I can’t risk him corrupting you again.” 
Bates strolled to the front of the stage and announced their next lesson. Remus kissed Janus’ forehead, and, as much as Janus begged him not to, left back to the wing. 
His eyes locked with Virgil’s. Virgil sobbed, his face scarlet, his hair matted with sweat. That fire he had, the anger and ferocity that fueled him, was dying out. It used to be a wall of bubbling magma behind his eyes. Now it was nothing more than a birthday candle.
Kofi and commissions, 1 coffee = 300 words of your prompt
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grapesodatozier · 4 years
Text
a million little times
pairing: wheelclair
summary: lucas joins the football team and makes some new friends. it takes a bit for mike to realize why this makes him so upset
words: 3,575
rating: teen and up
tags: jealousy, modern high school au, underage drinking, pining, angst with a happy ending, title from illicit affairs by taylor swift
read on ao3 or below!
Mike was happy for Lucas, he really was. He was confused, sure, but he was happy for him. If Lucas really did want to play football, then that was great for him, and Mike was glad he was doing things that made him happy. He just would’ve been happier about it if football wasn’t such a fucking cult.
Lucas had practice three or four days a week and games once or twice a week, which meant that the time he had with the party was cut severely. Sure, they could hang out after dinner, and during lunch, and on the weekends, but it was still a lot to adjust to. Mike missed riding home with Lucas, he missed that little stretch of the ride when it was just the two of them. Sure, Mike had the car now that Nancy was away at college, so he wasn’t riding home anyway, but he had been excited about giving Lucas rides home, about taking the long way and getting slushies if they were feeling like it. But now he couldn’t, because Lucas didn’t get home until just around dinner time. And one of his football friends drove him home. Mike knew because he could see him getting dropped off from his window, he could see Lucas smiling at whoever was in the driver’s seat, his huge bag of equipment slung over his shoulder. It made Mike’s chest ache. 
It was even worse when he had to see him hanging out with them in school. Lucas still hung around Mike’s locker with the rest of the party most days, but now sometimes Mike would look around for him and find him down the hall surrounded by a group of people that was obnoxiously large for the small hallways of their school. 
It started making Mike angry when Lucas skipped out on lunch with them one day. He hadn’t even said anything, he was just suddenly not at their table, and Mike could see him across the room, hamming it up with this group of jock assholes. He even got one of those pretentious varsity jackets. Mike was only snapped out of his head because he was so tense about the whole thing he ended up biting his tongue so hard it nearly bled. It didn’t help that Dustin, Max, El, and Will were all joking about how Lucas was popular now, how he’d rigged the social ladder. Like this was funny. Like it was all some big joke that Lucas wasn’t sitting with them. 
If Mike was a bit short with Lucas later that day in chemistry, Lucas didn’t say anything about it.
The only thing that made Mike warm up to the idea was watching Lucas’s games. He loved watching him, loved that proud smile he got on his face. Pride welled in Mike’s chest when Lucas made a play, even if something more bitter stirred in his stomach when his teammates jumped on him to congratulate him. 
By October, Mike was still adjusting to Lucas’s new status. He was just getting the hang of it, seeing Lucas on the weekends and going to his games on Fridays, having lunch with him three days a week instead of five, accepting that he had to share him, when Lucas flipped his world upside down again.
“A party?” Mike asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. 
“Yes, a party,” Lucas grinned. “You’re familiar with the concept?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “In theory.”
“We’re invited to a party?” Dustin cut in. Mike was secretly pleased that Dustin seemed to be as disbelieving as he was.
“Yeah, Mark’s parents are out of town so he told me to invite as many people as I want.”
“I’ll go if there’s vodka, but I’m not drinking beer,” Will said, making a face. 
Lucas laughed. “Trust me, there will be vodka.” He said it so confidently, like he’d been to so many parties. It made Mike wonder how many he had been to. He thought it was only two. Not that he’d been counting.
“I’ll go if El comes,” Max said, giving El an expectant and mischievous look.
Come on, El, Mike willed her silently. El wasn’t a party type. El was a sit quietly and watch romance movies with ice cream on a Saturday night type. She liked small get-togethers. She would say no, and then Max would say no, and then Mike could spend Saturday night with them.
“Why not,” El shrugged with a small smile.
Traitor, Mike thought to himself bitterly.
“Mike, you in?” Lucas asked. His hand on Mike’s shoulder made his heart race.
Mike sighed. “I guess you guys are gonna need a DD.”
The rest of them cheered as Mike crossed his arms. He really wasn’t looking forward to a house full of football bros sweating beer, but at least he would be with his friends, at least he could make sure they all got home safe. And if he was driving, he’d be dropping Lucas off last; he was looking forward to that.
Still, being the sober one sucked. His friends were all light weights, and they were all trashed within the first hour. Mike was awkward enough as it was; being the only sober one in a room full of people who didn’t even bother to glance his way made that awkwardness weigh on him all that much more. Lucas noticed, and he tried to get Mike to play pong with him, but Mike was horrendously bad, and the other team obliterated them. It made Mike’s cheeks burn with shame, and he left to subject himself to Dustin and Max’s drunk dancing. At least letting them push him around to Britney Spears while El and Will laughed and twirled each other around much more tamely made him feel a little better.
But then the night took a sharp turn south. 
There Mike was, trying not to topple over as his shorter friends jumped around him, when he looked up to search for Lucas. Maybe he would help Mike escape. But as soon as Mike found him, it became crystal clear that running to Lucas was not an option. Because he was busy making out with one of the guys on the cheerleading team.
Mike’s head spun. He hadn’t even known Lucas liked guys, not really. Sure, he’d mentioned something in passing once that made Mike’s ears perk up, but he’d never mentioned it again, never explicitly, and Mike wasn’t gonna push it. But this… this was not how Mike wanted to find out. And he also never needed to know that Lucas’s type was apparently cheerleaders. Fuck, he liked graceful, flexible, fit, cool people. Of course he fucking did. Who didn’t? 
Mike made up an excuse about finding a bathroom and broke away from his friends, rushing to a door, any door that would take him outside. The air inside was too stale; he needed something fresh, he needed to catch his breath and not vomit and maybe cry. Why did he need to cry? He didn’t. He was just… upset that Lucas didn’t tell him. Yeah. 
His legs carried him away from the party, the music getting quieter and quieter until he was down the street and couldn’t hear it anymore. He knew he shouldn’t go far, his friends needed him to drive them home, but there was an elementary school just a block away, and he really needed a place to sit that wasn’t on some random family’s lawn. He barely registered the world around him as sidewalk became soccer field, as the streetlights gave way to a night much darker. For whatever reason, he made a beeline for those seats that spin around. Probably a horribly dangerous thing to give children. An even worse thing to give drunk people; Mike was glad no one at the party had seemed to have the same idea as him yet. He collapsed onto the too-small seat and let his toes drag through the woodchips, holding on tight to the sides as he rocked slowly back and forth. He’d have to go back soon. But he couldn’t just then. In that moment, he just needed to sit his ass down on an elementary school playground and look at the stars while slowly spinning around. He needed to keep himself from driving home and leaving all his friends without a ride. God, he just wanted to fucking go home. 
Dustin ended up drunk calling him a few minutes later, and Mike had to make up some excuse about the line for the bathroom being too long and needing to pee in a bush. He took a deep breath before standing up, the night air helping to calm his racing heart. But his feet were unsteady as he stood and began walking back, and he had a feeling that a few deep breaths weren’t really gonna fix this problem. 
The way El and Dustin hugged him when he returned made him feel a little better, and at least Lucas had returned to the group, apparently done sucking face with that cheerleader guy. Still though, Mike couldn’t look at him without feeling sick. 
“There you are!” Lucas beamed. As if he had been looking for him.
Mike busied himself with gently shrugging El and Dustin off so he could go to Will, who was swaying on his feet, a far off look in his eyes. Mike put an arm around his shoulders, and he immediately leaned into Mike’s side. Will gave him an unfocused smile. “You okay?” Mike asked. When Will nodded he continued, “You ready to go home?” Will nodded again, and Mike looked up to consult the group. “Everyone ready to go?” Max gave an indignant whine, but El and Dustin nodded, and Lucas slung his arm around Max’s shoulders and steered her toward the door. Mike followed, helping Will down the stairs and into the car. If he was being honest he probably didn’t need to, but he needed to feel needed just then. 
He did the rounds, made sure everyone got in safe with reminders to not sleep on their backs, until it was just him and Lucas, drawing patterns on the passenger side window. “So?” Lucas asked with a grin.
“What?” Mike bristled.
“Did you have fun?”
Mike’s stomach turned. “Seemed like you did.”
Lucas gave him a look. “Yeah.”
Mike really tried to bite it back, but he had to know. “Who even was that guy?”
Lucas smirked. “You mean Andy?”
“If Andy is the cheerleader you were making out with, then yeah. Are you like… are you into him?”
Lucas shrugged. “He’s cute. He was a pretty okay kisser.” God, as if Lucas was kissing all these people Mike didn’t even know. Fuck, was he? “Where did you run off to?”
“I had to pee,” Mike murmured. Lucas gave a small laugh and teased him, poking him until he was swatting him away, a reluctant smile fighting its way onto his face. 
“I’m sorry you were sober, man,” Lucas said, settling back down. “We’ll get you trashed next time.”
“Yeah, sounds fun,” Mike said. He really tried to make it convincing, but he wasn’t sure it worked. 
They were pulling up to Lucas’s house now, but it wasn’t at all the scene Mike had pictured the day before. He didn’t want Lucas to linger right now. He really just wanted to be in bed. Luckily, Lucas got out pretty quickly, shooting Mike a slightly slurred thank you for driving before closing the door, leaving Mike to himself.
It ate at Mike for days, and he was pretty sure it showed, but he didn’t care. Max asked him about, but she always knew when there was something bothering him. She could tell because he acted the same way she acted when she was upset. But he brushed her off, probably a little more harshly than necessary, and she dropped it. El bought him a cookie at lunch and rested her head on his shoulder, but didn’t say anything, which Mike was grateful for. 
He appreciated it, he really did, but none of it helped. He couldn’t get the image of Lucas’s hands on that guy’s waist out of his mind. Looking at Lucas, knowing Lucas wasn’t looking back at him and seeing in Mike what Mike saw in him, was almost unbearable. So he didn’t.
The final breaking point came that Friday. They were all gathered around Will’s locker, discussing their weekend plans, when Lucas casually dropped that he wouldn’t be able to come to the arcade with them that weekend.
“What?” Mike blurted, unable to stop himself. He hated that he could hear the way his voice broke, that it was probably obvious to everyone around him.
Lucas was clearly taken aback, but his skeptical expression softened as he said, “I’m sorry, man, but the guys are going to this Halloween fest thing and it’s kind of an all day thing, I won’t be back until late.”
Mike’s blood was boiling. His throat was closing up. He hadn’t looked at Lucas more than a handful of times that week, but now he couldn’t look away. “But… but you said…” Mike’s voice broke again. He didn’t know where that sentence was going. He said what? He never said anything. They had never had to say anything before, it was an unspoken agreement that Saturday was arcade day with the party. 
“Mike, we always go to the arcade on Saturday.” Lucas had a sympathetic look on his face that just made Mike angrier.
“Exactly! We always go to the arcade on Saturday!” He was getting hysterical now, he knew it, but he was helpless to it.
“I’ll be there next Saturday,” Lucas tried.
“Will you?”
Mike turned and broke out of the group, striding down the hallway. He was done with this conversation. He was done with Lucas bailing on them. If he wanted to replace them so bad he could just do it, he didn’t have to draw it out like some kind of fucking sadist. His cheeks burned as he heard Lucas call after him, then Dustin’s quiet, “Let him go, man.” Mike wasn’t sure if he was happy or furious or heartbroken that none of them followed him. The solitude of his car helped him breathe a little easier, but he probably shouldn’t have been driving, because his heart was racing and there were tears forming behind his eyes and he had that urge to throw and punch and kick things that he got whenever he was hurting. 
He got to his house in one piece and ignored his mom when she asked him why he was home on a Friday afternoon. He slammed his door shut and threw himself down on his bed. 
And that’s where he was Saturday morning, lying in his bed kicking absently up at the top bunk. That’s what he was doing when he heard a knock on the door. “I’m not hungry,” he called. He heaved an exasperated sigh when the door opened anyway. “Mom, I don’t—”
“Not your mom.” Mike sat up, his heart in his throat. Lucas was standing in the doorway, was stepping in and closing the door behind him. And he had a fucking smile on his face. “At least, according to Maury.”
“Funny,” Mike said blandly as he sat up. “What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be on a hayride with the guys right now?” He didn’t wanna sneer at him, but he’d never had much control over things like that. 
Lucas shrugged and leaned against Mike’s dresser, his arms crossed. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Mike froze. “About what?”
“About what?” Lucas scoffed. “About that way you threw a tantrum yesterday. About the fact that you’ve barely spoken to me since the party on Saturday.” 
Mike shook his head. God, that fucking party. “You didn’t wanna talk to me when you had your tongue down that guy’s throat.” 
A moment of tense silence passed between them, Mike’s bitter tone hanging in the air. “Is that why you’re mad? Because I made out with a guy?” The hurt in Lucas’s voice made all of Mike’s anger disappear in an instant.
“What? No! Of course not, you think I’d be mad about that?”
“Well then what’s your issue? What did I do wrong?” His voice was rising now, and that only made Mike feel more panicked. His room felt too small. How was he supposed to explain?
“I miss you.” Mike had wanted to scream it, but it came out sounding just as small and vulnerable as he was feeling.
Lucas’s face fell, his eyes scanning over Mike’s, trying to decipher what he was saying. “I’m right here, man. I’m not ditching you. I’ve got some new friends now, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. Nothing has to change.”
“But everything already has changed!” Mike broke. He couldn’t help the tears that were gathering in his eyes now. “I used to know… We used to… You know so many people I don’t now, and they’re cool, and I used to know everything about you and now you’re kissing guys, you’re kissing guys who are hot and cool like you. You’re my best friend, and I was yours but now you’re gonna outgrow me and you’ll never… I never… and now I can’t…” Mike was crying hard now, so hard he didn’t realize Lucas was kneeling in front of him until he felt Lucas’s hands on his forearms, gently pulling his hands away from his face so that he could wipe Mike’s tears away. Mike hiccuped and blinked as Lucas came somewhat into focus in front of him.
“Mike… you’ll always be my best friend. Yeah, some things are changing, but that’s not.”
Lucas’s soft tone helped, but they were just words. And besides, there was something else Mike wanted, something that was getting farther and farther from him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He felt like he was stuck on one of those conveyor belts in the airport but it was going the wrong direction, and he didn’t know how to get off or go back. His heart was racing, and he was gonna start crying again, panicked. Panicked about Lucas kissing someone else, about him wanting other people. How could Mike make him understand? He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but if it was his last chance, if it was the only way to make Lucas understand—
So then his hands were on Lucas’s face, and he was bringing their lips together with all of the hurry and panic and adrenaline he was feeling. He reeled back just as fast, slamming himself against the wall behind him, looking at Lucas’s surprised face in horror. “Oh god, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Mike,” Lucas said firmly, his hands finding Mike’s wrists again. He pulled Mike gently back toward him and cupped his face.
“Yeah?” Mike’s voice was small and watery, shaking like his hands had been until Lucas steadied them, his hands strong and gentle at the same time.
Lucas smiled then. Something like wonder was passing through his eyes, slowly, as he met Mike’s eyes. “I… I liked—yeah, will you do that again?”
Mike eyebrows shot up behind his fringe. “Seriously?”
“Yeah” Lucas nodded, sweet and awkward smile on his face. And wow, Mike never thought he’d see the day he made Lucas flustered. But he got through his shock and leaned forward, tentatively this time, and brought their lips back together.
And wow. It was perfect. It was soft and unsure at first, and Mike’s eyes were open as he watched Lucas’s reaction. But once Lucas started kissing him back Mike let his eyes flutter shut, let himself sink into it. He let himself focus only on the way Lucas was kissing him, the way his hands felt cradling Mike’s face. He ran his hands lightly over Lucas’s arms, admiring the muscles that lay under the soft fabric of his shirt. Once they both got the hang of it, their lips began to lock together, the kiss deepening. Mike twisted Lucas’s shirt between his fingers. Eventually Lucas pulled away, and Mike took a moment before opening his eyes, his lips still parted, seeking more. 
“Wow… I did not know you felt the same way,” Lucas said, smiling and flushed.
Mike shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his lips. “I think I always have.”
They both laughed and kissed each other again, just a few soft pecks, still getting used to it.
“So…” Lucas said with a teasing smirk, running his hand over Mike’s chest, “what was that you were saying about me being hot and cool?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Mike groaned, his cheeks on fire as he slung his pillow at Lucas. God, he missed this, the sight of Lucas laughing on his bedroom floor. He was looking forward to even more mornings like this, and afternoons, and nights. 
Max had a field day on Monday when Mike came into school practically drowning in Lucas’s varsity jacket, but Mike didn’t even mind. He never thought he’d be dating a football player, but as Lucas wrapped his arms around him, strong and sure, the smell of his laundry detergent sticking to the jacket all day as Mike went from class to class, he figured maybe sometimes change could be nice.
taglist: (sorry i only remember this half the time lmao) @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @eddieeatsass @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @thelazyeye  @montconde @fizzylemones @lexinatorwrites 
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
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I Hate Mondays-- (An Abel Plenkov/Reader OS)
Ya'll I just saw "My Soul To Take" last night and Raul as 'The Ripper' aka Abel Plenkov.....FUCCKKKK!!!
You already know I had a million ideas running through my mind. This was the first. It's dark, it's smutty, it's super angsty and...dark. Be warned.
I fucking love it.
ALL under the cut. Because...yes.
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IDK if my tag list wants to read this, but just in case...
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
@thatesqcrush
@shittanyy
@mrsrafaelbarba
-----------------------
“Ah, oh yes...fuck fuck fuck fuccccckkk baby yes--”
You were just about to orgasm when you felt the fist around your neck go limp and release you. You looked down to see the sad sack alter ego of your lover staring up at you in fear, his body now trembling.
“Aw for FUCK’S sake Abel,” You growled as you hopped of him. “You really know when to ruin a good time, don’t you?”
“W-W-Where am I?” His voice shook as he realized he was laying in a pool of blood. And not his own.
“You know where the fuck you are, Abel,” You groaned, losing your lady wood quickly. “Now where the fuck did you stash my Ripper?”
“Rip--I don’t know, Y/N!” He suddenly started getting his bearings. He’d woken up here too many times, and every time was even more horrifying.
“Really? Because we were just in the middle of having some god damn fun, and here you come out to piss all over it!” You nodded at his now wet crotch, he’d pissed himself as soon as he had come to.
“Y/N please, I didn’t mean to--” He begged you as he saw you going for your bat.
“Y’know you are SO lucky that you have Ripp’s body, or else I would gut you right here and now,” You hissed, revving up the bat in your hand.
“Okay first of all, ‘Ripper’ doesn’t have a body. His body was my body first!” Abel yelled in a semi forceful tone.
“Oooh, got some lip on you tonight, do ya Honest Abe?” You licked your lips with a smirk.
“A-All I’m saying is-- why, why don’t you just kill me? Put me out of my misery, please. It’d be better than cheating on my wife all the time, hurting my kids…” He began to blubber.
“A-And then his soul could go into another body, one who wouldn’t mind all of---this,” He gestured around the two bodies lying around the room. A guy and a girl, one for each of you. You and Ripper would like to have…’dinner’ first, as you’d call it before your hard core fucking. It was absolute heaven rolling around in other people’s blood.
“Yeah right, and risk his soul going into some rando?” You cackled. “What if it went into a chick? I ain’t carpet licking nothin!” You gagged.
“Or worse….” You made a horrified face. “What if it went into a fattie?!”
“P-P-Please, Y/N….” He pleaded with you.
“Unfortunately, for you Abel baby,” You pointed the bat into his chest, leading him backwards to the bed once more. “I enjoy your body. I know it, and it knows me,”
“B-But….” He tried to stop crying, but you scared the shit out of him. “Y-You don’t want to have sex with me, I’m just--”
“A fucking pussy?” You smirked.
“Yeah, I know baby, you ain’t gotta remind me. Your flaccid dick proves that real good,” You grabbed his limp penis, making him cry out in pain.
“Which is why...” You backed into him until he was laying on the bed and you were looming over him, the bat right under his chin. “....You’re gonna gimme back my baby boy right now, or I’mma beat him outta you,”
“No! Please!” He begged you, snot dripping down his pathetic sobbing mess of a face. It disgusted you to no end having to see Ripper’s face so fucking pitiful.
“It’s n-not like a magic trick, Y/N! I can’t---can’t control it,” He was heaving now with sobs.
“Fine, just know you brought this on yourself, Abel,” You raised the bat high above your head, ready to knock his nuts off, but when your swing came down towards his body, one of his arms stopped the bat dead in its tracks.
“...Now I know, you weren’t going to hit me with that, my little slut,” Ripper’s voice came from Abel’s body with an evil grin.
“Ripp,” You gulped. “N-No, baby I was trying to get you back from that bitch’s little mind prison,”
“Ah, I see,” He ripped the bat from your hands and tossed it across the room. “But see, you always seem to forget-- you damage this body, I damage YOU,”
His blood soaked hands were instantly around your throat as he roughly jammed his now rock hard erection into your throbbing pussy. He flipped you around so he was pounding on top of you, his grasp still tight around your neck.
His eyes filled with lustful glee as he saw your face turn purple, listening to your gagging made him come faster every time. He let out a mighty demonic roar as he ejaculated into you, choking you to the point of passing out. He let go right before you lost consciousness, and the wave of an orgasm washed over you like a ice cold shower, bringing you back from the brink. You screamed in absolute ecstasy, Ripp knew how to give you the best orgasms of your life.
After you were both done, Ripp grabbed your bloody face in his bloody hands, licking all of the girl corpse’s blood off your face and neck.
“Fuck you taste so good, my little whore…” He panted while he lapped up the blood like a hungry dog.
“Mmmm yes daddy, lick me clean,” You moaned in pleasure while sucking the blood off his chest and nipples.
“Wait-- Fuck, he’s...he’s winning again, Y/N,” Ripp stopped licking you and looked at you in anger. “FUCK!”
“No! Fuck him! Stay with me, baby…” You practically whined.
“....Until next time, my love,” He growled softly, in his own romantic way.
“Dammit,” You muttered, as you saw Abel’s face wash back over into his body.
“Oh my...Oh my GOD…” He realized he was now covered in blood from head to toe, and had recently ejaculated. His penis was sore from the rough fucking Ripp liked to do, it damaged his body more and more every time he came to in this God forsaken hell hole you called a house.
“Mmmm…” You flipped his quivering body over and licked his salty tears from his bloody face while he continued to sob.
“Y’know I don’t know what tastes better Abel, your cum or your tears,” You gave him a wicked smile.
“You’re the devil, you know that?” He glared at you.
“Nahhh, I just fuck him,” You winked as you tossed him a towel.
“Now, go take a shower and run home to the missus, wouldn’t want her finding out your dirty little secret…” You mocked him by putting a finger to his mouth with an evil cackle.
Abel did as you said and bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door, ready to take as many hot showers as he needed to to wash the sin off of him.
As you heard him crying in the shower, you began your usual clean up. You grabbed a bone saw and a horse trough of bleach, ready to dissolve the corpses. One day you’d make Abel help you with the clean up, when he could do it without vomiting.
While you were humming to yourself getting the tarps picked up, you felt a wet sensation on your face. Left over blood? You put a finger to your eye and pulled it back. You were...leaking.
“Fuck…” You growled, throwing down the tarp and going for a beer bottle in the corner.
You broke it on the floor and took a long shard, dragging it down your arm until you saw blood pooling out. The physical pain was good, it centered you. It distracted you from stupid things like emotions. You couldn’t sit around pining for your demon boyfriend, you had shit to do.
You must have stared at the blood for a little too long, as you started to feel dizzy from a lot of it now dripping across the floor. Before you knew what was happening, you felt Abel running over and wrapping a towel around your arm, rubbing your face.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” His voice sounded miles away.
“Wha--” You suddenly came to, realizing the dickhole was coddling you. “Get the fuck off of me, white bread!”
What would Ripp do if he could see you from in there? What if he saw you being weak like some fucking school girl?
“I was just trying to help--” He said softly.
“You can help me by getting the FUCK out of here,”
“...R-Right, sorry,” He quickly pulled on his shirt and pants, holding his shoes as he dashed down the stairs and out the front door.
“Fucking Christ…” You sighed, going to get some gauze to wrap your mutilated arm in before you started to clean up again.
“I hate Mondays.”
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 105 prt 1
105
Lance felt as if he’d died all over again. He and Keith had spent the night under the stars after the opera, feeling like he’d died of happiness with Keith, before his boyfriend suggested they head home for the night as the first rays of morning started to creep across the sky. This was not the same kind of happy pleasant death thanks to Keith’s love. The Blades had had a successful mission, according to his boyfriend, but Lance felt too sick to care. This was the “Death warmed up” kind of death that really, really sucked balls. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, only able to reason it was a batch of bad blood, because it was definitely not the nice new slow release birth control capsule that sat in his arm. Keith had held his hand as he’d had it done, Coran springing it on the pair of them the day after the opera. Flushing the toilet, he was in the process of pushing himself off the floor when Matt came to his aid. Pulling him up on his feet, Lance nearly fainted at the change in sudden position
“You need to see Coran. It’s been a week, Lance. Keith is worried”
A whole week without Keith. After spending the night he’d spent the day with his Mami, then headed home. Keith was off desk duty, onto helping in the labs, between surveillance missions . His boyfriend could do anything he put his mind to... apart from be there with him.
“Mmm... I’m fine. Coran said there were side effects”
He was lying poorly. He wasn’t fine. Matt knew it. He’d been on his case about his scent being wrong when he’d come back home
“There’s side effects and then there’s this!”
“Just back off! Go fuck something or... something! Just get off my back!”
Starting to cry, he felt awful for what he’d said to Matt. He didn’t like his moodiness being directed so outward-sly when Matt only wanted to help
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that... I’m sorry...”
“Lance, you’re being stupid. You need to talk to Coran”
“I’ll... I... this was supposed to work...”
“And it’s not. You’re miserable. You’re barely eating and barely leaving your room”
“I’m sorry... I... I need to lay down for a bit... Can I call him once I’ve taken a nap?”
“Can I talk to him when you call him?”
Lance nodded, regretting doing so. He felt faint, but worse still was fact he threw up in his mouth as he nodded. His stomach was so fucking sore from all the vomiting he’d been doing
“Alright. Two hours. If you’re not up in two hours, I’m calling Coran”
“Okay... I’m sorry... This was supposed to work!”
Matt tried to hug him, Lance feeling sicker at the touch, forcing himself back from him. It wasn’t just with Matt. Anyone, other than Keith, made him feel physically revolted
“Coran might need to adjust the dose. It might be something as simple as that”
“I can’t think... I’m really... I need to lay down”
“Do you need me to get you anything? A bucket? You look pale as fuck, man”
“No... I need my bed... and my soil”
“That’s already on your bed, isn’t it?”
“Yeah... I’ll be okay... just give me a bit”
Lance left Matt for the safety of his bed. Blue had been by his side almost nonstop, as if she knew he really needed her and her toe beans. Crawling under the covers, he was buried under his blankets. Barely able to function, he’d been limited to messaging Keith, or falling asleep with Keith on the other end of the phone. His boyfriend was stressed over the side effects, that Lance was hoping would kindly go away before Keith’s birthday weekend. Keith’s present had finally arrived, the blade looked incredible, and well worth it’s price tag. He was super excited about giving it to Keith, knowing his boyfriend would love it.
Sleeping fitfully, Lance woke in a sweat. His clothes clinging to him as his stomach rolled and cramped. Downstairs he could hear Rieva scolding Matt, Curtis laughing at the pair of them. He must have come back from seeing Shiro in Platt. Curtis had been keeping a record of Lance’s condition, and reaction to the medication in his system. As far as they knew this was the kind of reaction to be expected initially. When his body got its shit together, they’d know more. He simply had to hang on until then.
Climbing out of bed, Lance held his stomach as he shuffled from his room. He’d promised Matt two hours, but now he was feeling even worse. The world was spinning. Everything stank like mould and dust. The light in the house was too bright... and his skin was itchy. Making it to the stairs, the room swayed heavily to the right, Lance going to the left to correct the feeling, foot missing the top stair...
*
“Keith, it’s Lance. Matt’s just rushed him in from Garrison. Something’s happens”
Whipping around to where Allura stood in the doorway of the lab, Keith was signing off on the trace reports from their clothes. The Blades had no use for them now that all trace had been collected. They were set for disposal, unless he wanted them, which he did. Not Lotor’s pet get up, no. These were clothes he’d worn as Lance’s pet. Letting the datapad slip through his fingers, his body started moving without thinking, until he was grabbing Allura by the shoulders
“What do you mean something happened to him? Where is he?”
“I don’t know. Coran’s rushed him through for emergency treatment. You’d been come”
Jogging through the halls, VOLTRON’s main infirmary was on the same level as the labs. What was only a few minutes walking felt somehow longer as Keith panicked hard. Lance had only just started on the contraceptive Coran designed for him, and somehow he couldn’t help but feel it was related to that. Reaching Matt, the werewolf was sitting on the floor crying. He’d never seen Matt cry like this... his alarm at the blood over Matt’s hands sent goosebumps across his skin. Whipping his head around, he found blood on the doorframe a little past Matt, feet carrying him towards it, before he was bursting into the medical room.
Laying limp on the bed, Coran and two others worked around Lance. The inside of Lance’s sweats dyed a deep red, blood smeared across his feet
“Allura, get him out of here!”
Keith flinched, pulled backwards from Lance at Coran’s command. His legs giving out in the hall, as the door between him and Lance was snapped closed. What was happening?! He could smell Lance’s blood. His stomach rolled. His lover was far sicker than he’d let on. Anger flaring, he wanted to move to Matt. To grab him by the shoulders and shake the truth out of him. He couldn’t. Allura draping herself around him, softly asking as she sniffled
“Matt, what happened?”
“I don’t know. He’s been sick for days. Throwing up nonstop. Barely eating. I... he wanted to take a nap. He promised we’d call Coran when he woke up... He... This is all my fault. I... I left him to nap... because he needed rest, and I... I heard him get up and then... then he fell down the stairs... There was so much blood. He wasn’t bleeding before. He was just feeling sick. I knew that... he... he smelt different lately... and I... I should have made him come sooner... this is my fault”
Matt started crying harder again, his hands in his hair as he curled in on himself. Keith shaking. He knew there were side effects. He knew it. Lance had been so happy, that he’d agreed. So happy that finally Coran had good news for them. He felt like he was finally going to be in control of his body, despite Keith not minding how he was already... unless there were vampires close to him.
It was a sickening long wait in the hallway. He and Allura curled up waiting with Matt, and Allura had taken Matt to clean the blood off him. There’d been so much... too fucking much. Bringing back watching Lance dive across to save them when Matt wolfed out. Finally the door opened, the three of them looking to Coran who stepped out with a weary sigh
“He’s going to be okay”
Coran was haggard, as if years had been stripped off of him, or his long life had finally caught up with him. Relief flooded through his body, as Keith used the wall to push himself up
“Can I see him?”
“He’s groggy, but awake, yes he’s stable. I’ve removed the capsule from his arm, and I have to warn you, he is extremely weak. I’ll analyse the capsule. I was sure the dosage was correct... Keith, can I speak with you for a moment?”
That didn’t sound good. Looking to Allura and Matt, they both nodded, Matt smiling through his tears
“We’ll wait here, man. Go see him, he’s been missing you”
Heading into medical room, the nurses finished up with Lance, before excusing themselves and closing the door behind them. The bed moved from the middle of the room, to jut out from the right side, Lance hooked up to too many machines. Rushing to his boyfriend side, Keith buried his face in Lance’s hair, wrapping his arm around his chest as he did
“Hey... mullet”
Slurring the words out, Lance was conscious enough to know it was him. Keith couldn’t help but hug him tighter
“You scared the fuck out of me you, dick”
Laughing weakly, Lance’s laughter broke off with a hiss of pain.
“I’m afraid he’s going to be staying with us for the next week. I have something very important to talk to you about”
Keith didn’t particularly care, as long as Lance was alright
“You said he was going to be okay”
“He is. But... I still need to monitor him closely. You see... how should I put this...”
Keith forced himself off Lance, hand sliding down to grip his boyfriend’s hand
“Just spit it out”
“I suppose I should say, I have to monitor them carefully”
What now? He didn’t get it. There was one Lance, not two... He could barely handle one Lance...
“You said you needed to monitor him...”
“Yes, well, you see...”
Lance got there first, slurring again, Keith jumping at his voice. His boyfriend really should be sleeping things off, he was a stubborn little bastard
“I’m pregnant?”
“At this stage. You and Keith are generally quite careful with the use of contraception, though that isn’t always effective. I look the liberty of running the test while the nurses made Lance comfortable”
Keith went wobbly at the knees. Air knocked out of him. Coran sadly continuing
“I can’t say how far along you are, and for today you need rest. I’ll organise an ultrasound for the first thing tomorrow morning so we can get a better view of the situation. I was stupid to accept that you’d been careful and not administer the test before implanting the capsule. For that, I cannot apologise enough”
Hold up. Just. Wait. What? He knew he sounded dumb, but... What?
“How?”
Coran sighed at him tiredly
“I know you know how sex works by now. Pulling out and use of condoms doesn’t guarantee that conception will not occur. In fact, I’d advise against the pull out method entirely, though... I expect you two need a moment to adjust to the news. For now we will keep this amongst ourselves. Lance lost a lot of blood, the pregnancy may no longer be viable. Keith, I’ll leave him in your hands. I want you to monitor him for any bleeding, or unusual behaviour. I need to run tests on the capsule and his blood, but he absolutely needs to stay in bed, no matter what he may say, or how he may act. Matt saved his life today. Had the bleed been sustained, he may have lost control of himself entirely”
Coran was talking a lot at him. The words lodging in brain without processing. They liked them. As them. Babies weren’t a thing they were ready for. That he was ready for. They didn’t even live together and they might as well be on different planets given how much they missed each other when they were apart. Coran moved to fetch over the examination stool, Keith sank heavily on to it. He literally no longer had the strength to remain standing. A baby... They’d been careful. He didn’t know how... He didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll leave you two for now. If anything happens, press the red buzzer above the bed. It’ll alert the staff. Don’t worry, my sweet boys. We’ll work this out together”
What about the fall? What about all the blood? There’d been so much blood? Keith felt numb. Someone had once said that humans only have three main emotions; happiness, anger, and sadness. Every other emotion was like a colour on the spectrum, made from those three emotions. What a load of crap. He didn’t know where his emotions apparently fell, but he did know he wasn’t any of them, and all of them at the same time.
Left alone with his boyfriend, Lance watched him. Keith holding his hand tightly as he had been when he’d first taken it in his
“Babe... dun... worry... ‘m okay”
“How is any of this okay?!”
Lance was hooked up to monitors, two IV’s running into his left arm. His face was bruised, and there was a light weight casting around his left wrist. He looked how Keith had expected him to look after he’d fought Lotor. Not fallen down a set of stairs. Fucking stupid stairs. What was Matt thinking leaving Lance like this?! He’d been so ill. Did Matt not care about Lance?! Was all of this some fucking joke? He should have brought him in sooner. Lance... was having a baby... their baby...
Wearily, Lance squeezed his hand with all the strength of a human, proving how weak he was
“I’m... sorry... I thought... It’d pass... in a few... days”
The words were taking so much effort on Lance’s part. Chest heaving as a machine beeped at them, Keith softly scolding his boyfriend
“You should have told me sooner. You never tell me”
“Got worse today... Keith... I... don’t know what to do... a... baby... I...”
Tears rolled down Lance’s tilted face. His boyfriend sniffling, he didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. Keith knew he probably shouldn’t climb up next to him, but Lance really needed him right now and needed to hold his boyfriend... despite the part of him that wanted to run until his head had cleared and the whole thing had sunk in. It felt so surreal. It wasn’t a near miss. It was the real thing. Letting go of Lance’s hand, his boyfriend whimpered softly at the loss. When he moved the blankets, Lance scrunched his eyes closed, as if he expected Keith to turn on him, or throw him out the bed.
Settling carefully beside Lance, Keith laid on his side, forehead against his boyfriend’s. He knew Lance was trying to work up the strength to apologise again, his hand coming up to cup Lance’s cheek as he rubbed at the tear mark with the pad of his thumb
“You need to rest. Then we can talk about this”
“I’m...”
“You’re exhausted”
And Keith needed to think. He’d been planning on surprising Lance dressed in the same clothes he’d worn as a pet for a laugh. Not having Lance rushed here by Matt, and having to be made to feel useless at the sight of all that blood
“Baby...”
“We’ll work it out”
“I... sorry...”
“Shhh, enough apologising. You can apologise when you’re awake enough to know you don’t need to”
*
Lance fell asleep next to him, Keith unable to sleep. Somehow his hand had found its way to Lance’s belly, his boyfriend whining softly in his sleep when he caught himself and went to move it. A baby was not part of their plans. Not in the middle of all this shit. He wasn’t father material. He didn’t know how that worked. He’d enjoyed having what he had with Lance. He couldn’t be like Krolia. He couldn’t leave Lance with the responsibility of raising a child alone, but he couldn’t turn his back on what was happening.
When Shiro finally arrived, his brother had brought flowers. Keith wondering if Coran hadn’t been able to keep the secret over their news. Matt had probably heard everything. What was he doing now? Telling everyone? Laughing at them for getting themselves into the situation? He couldn’t work out when it would have happened. He prided himself on his ability to take care of Lance through his heats. Carrying the flowers over, Shiro placed them at the end of Lance’s bed near his feet
“Hey, kiddo. Is he going to be okay?”
How was Keith supposed to know? Lance was male, turned breeder because of him. Surely there was bound to be all kinds of complications
“I don’t know”
“Matt told me he drove Lance here. Something about having a bad reaction?”
His brother was probing for information. Keith had the answers but not the desire to disclose them
“Something like that”
Shiro sat on the opposite side of Lance’s bed. Keith nearly slapping his hand away as his brother felt for signs of a fever
“Coran mentioned he’d be here for a few days. Did you know he was sick?”
“A little... Coran said there’d be side effects and Lance just thought it was normal...”
“Krolia’s worried. She got the call before me and left the mission ahead of time. She’s sitting in the hall, no ones allowed in without going past her”
What right did his mother have to be there?
“The flowers are actually from her. She didn’t want to upset you by coming in. She offered to pick up Miriam if Lance was up for visitors”
“Not today. Maybe tomorrow”
Tomorrow when they’d have a clear idea what was going on... hang on
“You saw Matt?”
“Yeah. He said Lance wanted to lay down, then got up again and fell down the stairs. He was burning up, crying for you”
Keith wished Shiro hadn’t told him that. He wasn’t there when Lance needed him... It felt fucking awful. No wonder Lance had made a huge fuss over his accident
“Did he say anything else?”
“Lance was bleeding, and pretty out of it... I know you’re probably angry at him, but right now no one is angrier about it all than Matt. Coran’s got Allura staying with him until Rieva can come up from her shift. Did Coran say anything else?”
More than Shiro could imagine. His brother’s hand had gone from Lance’s forehead to resting on his hair
“We won’t know more until tomorrow”
“Alright. Would you like me to stay?”
No
“Yeah... just... I don’t think I can leave him..”
“You don’t have to. As Lance would say, “I’ll punch anyone in the dick if they try to make you leave””
Keith snorted wetly, appreciative of Shiro’s attempt at humour
“He’s strong, right?”
“Yeah. He’s strong, and he’s going to be okay. The blood bag is a little low, I might let the staff know”
Keith hadn’t noticed. He was supposed to be monitoring Lance’s condition. How could he be a dad if he couldn’t do this one simple thing?!
“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but this isn’t your fault. Not everyone has extreme reactions to things. Lance is different and he’s special. This won’t keep him down, you know that”
“I’m not so sure”
“I’ll have to be sure for all of then”
Over the night, Keith had too many visitors. Matt came with Allura. Coran popped in like clockwork, insisting he rest or eat. Keith moving off the bed to sit on the stool, falling asleep with his right hand on Lance’s belly and his left holding Lance’s hand, his cheek laying against it. Waking to fingers playing with his hair, he yawned as he blinked, back protesting the awkwardness of his sleeping position. Staring across the room, Lance was the one playing with his hair. Shiro was snoring where he sat against the wall with a blanket up to his shoulders. His brother staying as he said he would
“Babe?”
Shifting his gaze down to him, Lance’s blue eyes hurt to see. He seemed so utterly defeated. Rising from the chair, Keith climbed back into bed beside him, pulling him close. Any other time he’d be making a joke about his coordination without coffee. Yet somehow, he was more awake than he should be. That look in Lance‘s driving away his fatigue
“I’m sorry...”
“Shhh...”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t even suspect. I’ve gone and ruined everything”
“No. No, you haven’t”
“Did... did I lose it?”
How long had Lance been awake wondering that?
“Coran won’t know until he does an ultrasound”
“I’m so fucking scared. I don’t know how... we... were careful”
“I know we were... I know, babe”
“You must hate me... but I didn’t know... I didn’t”
Lance started to weep, drawing his knees up as Keith kissed his hair
“I know. I believe you”
“How could I not know?!”
“Shhh... Stress isn’t good for you...”
Keith swallowed hard, forcing out the words that felt weird in his mouth
“... or the baby”
“I don’t know how to do this”
“You think I do? Fuck. When Allura came to get me... I get how you felt now... not being there. I should have come when you first started feeling sick”
“It... wasn’t... that bad until yesterday...”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I thought it was just the side effects... then I woke up feeling wrong... I went to get Matt...”
So Lance had tried to do the right thing? He’d recognised, all be it late, that something more was going on
“Shhh... okay. I get it”
“I’m sorry...”
“You don’t need to be sorry. Coran’s going to come check on in on you. Allura and Matt visited. Shiro slept here. None of them think you did anything wrong”
“But I still made everyone worry”
“Idiot. We love you. Of course we’re going to worry”
Lance sniffled
“I’m being so selfish. I haven’t even asked if you’re okay”
Keith could lie. He could lie and comfort Lance by pretending to be strong... yet he couldn’t do that. He had to be honest with the man he loved
“I don’t know what I am... other than confused and scared”
“What do we do?”
“We wait. We see what the ultrasound says... and we figure it out”
“And what... if they’re...”
“Either way, we’ll work it out”
Lance clutched up at him, Keith relieved his lover’s strength had started to return
“I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think... I want to lose them”
Keith swallowed down the emotions choking his throat. He didn’t know if Lance meant it or not, and Lance wasn’t in the right frame of mind to question him
“Okay... okay... I’m here. I’m staying. We’ll figure this out”
“I love you... so much... I wanted this in the future... I feel so guilty for it happening now”
“You’re getting worked up again. Coran wants to you stay as calm as you can. We can’t do anything for now”
“I’m still really tired”
“You nap. I’ll be here holding you”
“You really are the best boyfriend ever...”
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My OC Universe: Rowan 40
Chapter 40 Summary: Once someone comes across Rowan, and Charles, panic sets in. He tries to run, but doesn’t manage to get far before being caught and returned to the Prince. (Tag time: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @abitefullofeverything, @whump-me-all-night-long and @sky-or-something-idfk-who also helped inspire this scene!!)
Trigger Warnings: Physical and verbal abuse, conditioning, reference to previous abuse, manhandling
It had been hours before the door opened again and a servant walked in, they saw the noble lying by the fire, and the chaotic mess in which the room was in and let out a gasp. Rowan’s head shot up, startled from his thoughts by the sound, his heart leapt when he saw the servant at the door, surveying the damage in complete and utter shock. “No! No, it’s fine!” He exclaimed, and the servant turned, somehow even more surprised to see the boy in the corner, stained with blood and bruises, ratty hair and a disturbing smile on his face. “It’s fine, as soon as he wakes up he’ll punish me, and everything will be all right again!” He said hopefully as he stood, and the servant rushed to the noble. 
“He’s dead! He won’t wake up! He won’t be all right!” They retorted as they saw the dull shine in Charles’ empty eyes.
“What? No, no I only hit him once!” The servant looked at Rowan incredulously and shook their head. “He’s dead, you fool! I need to go get the doctor!” The servant rushed out and left Rowan alone in the room. Dead. He can’t be dead. If-that means-I’ve killed the Prince’s best friend! His hands clutched his mouth and he shuddered. William was going to kill him! He looked at where Charles had remained, still ever since Rowan hit him, and moaned desperately. His eyes flicked to the door and felt the dread that had settled in his stomach swell until it filled his lungs. Last time I killed someone I ran. Last time I ran, I found Peter. Peter, I want Peter. Before he could even consider what he was doing he had skated down the halls, hearing hurried chatter and the clash of guard’s armour. His heart pounded against his ribs like a sledgehammer as he pushed his stiff and aching limbs to fly past the windows and tapestries, lightning flashing every once in a while, followed by an ominous crack of thunder that shook the castle above him. He found himself coming near the servants wing and careened around a corner, thumping into a firm torso heavily and falling back onto his bum. Oliver. “Rowan.” The man looked at him with worry knitting his brows, he was in his sleeping clothes, and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “What have you done, Rowan?” The boy only looked up at him fearfully, panting for breath. He scrambled to his feet and felt Oliver grab his shoulder. 
“You can’t run, you’ll be punished worse.” Oliver wanted him to take a deep breath and let him escort the boy to the Prince, who would be grateful for the loyalty. “Rowan, I promise you it won’t end well.” The boy didn’t listen, diving past the guard and shooting across the stone. Oliver didn’t have a choice. Rowan fell to the ground with a heavy grunt as he was tackled and writhed in Oliver’s grip. “Let me go! Let me go, you asshole!” Oliver picked him up easily and threw Rowan over his shoulder. “You traitor! He’s going to kill me!” The rage disappeared as he struggled, replaced by despair as the man carrying him remained unfazed by his fighting. “Please, please Oliver, don’t take me to him!” He ended up sobbing as his fists pounded in vain against Oliver’s unflinching shoulder-blades. “It was an accident! He was going to kill me! And now the Prince will!” 
He had slumped into Oliver’s familiar scent as he sobbed. The man remained silent, didn’t offer encouragement, or pass blame, he remained as silent as a statue as Rowan struggled and pleaded, and struck him while he climbed the levels to where the Prince and his men had gathered. “Your highness!” A hush fell, and Rowan felt eyes on him, every ounce of rebellion slid off him like the rain off the glass in the window beside him. “My consort,” William’s voice was deathly quiet. William walked over, dropping Rowan to him knees in front of the Prince. “I’m so sorry my liege, it was an accident I swear, please, I didn’t mean to, I was so afraid he was going to kill me I just –“ Rowan’s rushed cries were silenced by a harsh slap to his cheek, the sharp sound ringing out between the walls of the hallway. “Don’t make another sound, pet,” William hissed, and Rowan nodded obediently, curling his shoulders down and hunching over his legs. “You won’t speak until I ask you to. Understand?” He nodded frantically and bit back all the pleading he wanted to vomit forth before he can be punished. “His nose was broken prior to death and he was killed by blunt-force trauma to the skull.” A doctor said to the Prince, who nodded sombrely and looked back at his consort. “Charles was a very loyal friend of mine,” He said in a soft voice, regret dripped from it, and Rowan didn’t know if it was regret at having lost a friend, or what it would mean for Rowan. “I entrusted you to him, for one night, and you killed him.” Silence stretched so long Rowan couldn’t suppress his voice from spilling out. “I didn’t mean to,” He murmured, a heavy hand struck his skull and he groaned dizzily, curling tighter. “I said silence!” William roared. “You can have your time to explain, I just need you to understand, right now. The severity of the situation.” His voice dropped to a deathly whisper once again and Rowan cringed, he wanted William to scream. He wanted him to rage. Rowan couldn’t stand the suspense of waiting for William to snap. 
“You were loaned to a friend for the night, before that night is even over he is found, bleeding and dead, in his own room, and when you are found with him, you ran. You had to be dragged back by my guards, who luckily caught you before you did something stupid.” Rowan flinched as fingers brushed the tips of his hair, waiting for the hand to yank upwards, ripping his hair with it. “Had this happened any point earlier, I would have had you killed, just as I had the guards who interfered with you killed. But the servant who retrieved me swore that you claimed it was an accident, and had no idea of the grave state you had gotten yourself into.” Rowan had by no means relaxed, but it was encouraging to hear him speak that way. 
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Rowan swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced up fearfully.
“I’m-I’m so, so sorry, my liege! I was frightened, and I wasn’t thinking, and as soon as I realised what I had done I had panicked. I on-only struck him once.” He whispered as tears fell from his lashes. “I ruined everything, I’m so sorry, I only-please forgive me.” He crumpled as the pain and exhaustion and fear struck him like a tidal wave. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness! I’ve been so stupid!” He sobbed into his knees and heard a sigh. “Come, pet,” He looked up and gratefully let William guide his head against the Prince’s thigh, the touch comforting him instantly.  The worst part of William was the uncertainty he let creep up on you. “You’ve done something awful,” He said and Rowan nodded in agreement. “Then you made it worse,” Rowan nodded again and felt William’s hand pat him gently. “I can’t have you trying to run away, or killing people. We’ll need to work on your manner.” Rowan gulped nervously and waited to hear him continue. “You’ll have to be punished, maybe once Merek has finished with you, you will have learnt how to behave.” Rowan nodded eagerly and gasped heavily. “Yes, my Prince, thank you, thank you so much!” He spoke quickly, clutching William’s leg as he pressed his forehead against the Prince’s knee. Pain. Good. I need pain. Then I’ll feel better. “Good, pet. Remember every detail you can of tonight,” William said, stepping away. “I’ll return tomorrow to hear the full story, and decide how long your punishment should last.” Before Rowan was hauled up and dragged towards the dungeons he sucked in a breath and jerked instinctively towards the retreating Prince. “Are you not going to kill me, my Prince?” He asked and William paused, turning his head gently and looked back at where Rowan’s arms were being gripped by other soldiers as they paused in their actions of hauling him up. “Of course not, my pet,” He said gently, rubbing his palm with the other hand’s thumb. “You don’t look as though you struck him unprompted. I’m upset that you killed him, but you aren’t the type of person who would be able to knowingly kill someone.” He sighed as his eyes dropped to the carpet. 
“But for a while, please do not call me your Prince,” His voice sounded genuinely sad as he requested this. “I do not think it is appropriate until you’ve paid for your crime.” Rowan’s heart sank as he realised that he was far more comfortable with William screaming at him, and that by being the only person he had ever heard the Prince reprimand softly, he was surely in far more trouble than William would let on.
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Say my name. -Ateez
words: 1,400
warnings: blood, canines.
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Keep running. Just keep running.
The moon was bright making it possible to see, at least for what if could, the nature that surrounded me. A sensation of pain struck me, but I tried not to lose the rhythm of my run. The pain was so severe that I collapsed on the ground, with an indecisive look I looked where it hurt me and I almost vomited. The calfskin was quartered, because a piece of wire was all around the calf, tightening the skin even more. I didn’t know what to do. If I removed the wire, I also removed the alive skin and wounded me even more, and if I left the wire it would become infected. I leaned against a tree and tried to catch my breath, opting for the right option. 
“I finally found you, bitch!” I looked up and saw Rick with a crazy smile.
I tried to get up to escape, but he pounced on me, holding me against the tree.
“ I found you immediately after you were injured, your blood brought me to you. Too bad your mates will find you only when you’re dead.” and in a nanosecond I found myself screaming with his canines sunk in my neck.
“Hongjoong!” I screamed until I started seeing black dots and passed out.
A year ago.
“___, finally we managed to go to the disco,” said Minji wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Yes, after a month of exams, we can relax,” I said smiling.
We went immediately to the dance floor, with a drink in one hand and the other raised to the sky.
After fifteen mintes, Minji went to get another glass, while I stayed on the dance floor enjoying the music.
When an unfamiliar pair of hand snaked under my boobs, I didn’t do anyting to stop them. The body that molded to mine thrummed with something dangerous, the heady musk of maleness and something wild was making me a little scared. I threw caution to the wind when one of his fingers almost touched a nipple through the fabric of my dress. I placed one of his hands on my right boob while his other hand was still on my waist.
“Rick” he whispers in my ear.
“What?” I said turning a little.
“My name’s Rick,” he said again.
“Oh, I’m ___” I said in his ear.
“Nice to meet you ____” he said kissing my temple.
Not even the shadow of Minji, maybe she had found some cool boy to have fun with, and I had grown tired of being there with Rick but he didn’t seem to give up on me for a moment.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said, pulling away from him and getting lost in the crowd of sweaty bodies.
Unknown’s POV.
I was sitting on Yeosang’s lap when I felt a pleasant smell, I turned to Mingi who was beside us and I realized that he too felt it.
“Hyung, did you hear it too?” I said to Yunho, who had just arrived at our sofa with a drunk girl.
“Yes, her smell is really good,” he said smiling at me, showing off his canines.
Yunho sat next to me, making the girl sit on his lap, then clinging to her neck.
“Yunho, try not to kill her,”I said in his ear.
“Hyung don’t worry!” he said looking at me with red eyes.
At some point of the night, I started to feel tired, too weak, so I leaned against Yeosang’s chest.
“Yah San! What do you have?” Seonghwa said kneeling in front of me and attracting the attention of the other six, who turned to me.
“I don’t know, I feel dizzy,” I said covering my eyes with one hand.
“Isn’t it that our girl drank too much?” Hongjoong said, bringing a glass of wine t his mouth.
I tried to answer hime when severe pain in the neck didn’t make me lean forward, making me cover the part that hurt me.
“San, what’s going on?” Wooyoung and Jongho entered our room worried because they had felt on of their mates suffering.
“I don’t know but it hurts,” I said falling back against Yeosang who squeezed my arms.
After the pain increased, I began to undestand what was going on.
“She’s dying! Someone is biting her!” I said widening my eyes.
“What? We need to find her now!” Jongho said looking at me worried.
“Yes and hurry! It hurts!” I said crying.
I had never felt so much pain, neither when I trasformed nor when my mates branded me.
The boys got up, Yunho takes the girl out after making her forget everything and Yeosang put me on the sofa and stood up.
“Let’s go find her, you try not to hurt yoursefl!” he said giving me a kiss on the forehead going out with the others.
Occasionally it was a nuisance to experience the pain of the mates.
__’s POV.
I was washing my hands when looking up in the mirror I saw Rick behind me.
“Are you crazy?” I said wiping my hands.
“You don’t know how much I refrained from jumping on your neck,” he said taking a step forward towards me.
“Okay, can we talk about it out the bathroom?”
I didn’t like that situation at all, I tried to move towards the door when Rick, with inhuman froce, pushed me towards the white tile wall, taking my breath away.
“What the heck?” I tried to move but I found him against my body.
“What is it? Are you afraid now? Before you are a slut and now you don’t want anymore?” he said holding my wrists firmly against the wall and blocking my body with his, while a psychopathic smile made space on his face.
“Leave me, I never said I want to do it with you!” I said trying to free myself but it was as if there wasn’t a person in front of me but a concrete wall.
“Now let me have fun” I widened my eyes when I saw his canines grow longer and his eyes turn red.
I looked for something to hurt him but then I remembered that he kept my wrists still so I screamed, looking for help.
“Scream, but no one can hear you” and said that he sank the canines in my neck.
An excruciating pain made me squirm against Rick’s body as he freed my wrists by holding me by my hips. He detached himself slightly and then hung up with even more voracity on my neck, causing me even more pain. I started feeling weak and started seeing black dots. When I thought I was dying now, the bathroom door opened and seven guys entered.
“Rick if I were you I’d leave the girl,” said one of the boys.
Rick got away, letting me fall to the ground, the turning to them.
“I was just having fun,” he said, wiping his blood-soaked mouth.
“Too bad the one you bit is our mate,” said one of them taking a couple of steps forward.
“Oh? Your mate? You always get the one with the best blood!” he said glacing at me, the he lowered to my level.
I kept seeing black dots and my hearing was muffled.
I only I hadn’t let myself go, all this wouldn’t have happened.
And what is a mate? Who are these guys?
“Don’t touch her!” said one of the boys but I couldn’t understand who.
Rick got up and wiped his hands against his black trousers and then started walking towards the door.
“___, we’ll meet again very soon” and after said that he went out.
“My name’s Hongjoong, I know you’re in shock now and what I’m going to ask you to do will panic you, but you have to trust us. We’re not like Rick” said a boy kneeling before me smiling.
I couldn’t answer, I felt the blood dripping on my dress and the strength missed even more.
“What are you going to do?” I whispered, leaning my back against the wall for support.
“You have to drink this,” he said, passing a small ampoule contaning a red liquid.
“What’s this?” I said looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t ask questions and drink” he said uncorking the ampoule ad making me drink the liquid vigorously.
The taste of metal made my eyes widen. He was making me drink blood! Immediately I tried to detach myself, but one of his hands held my head still, making me continue to drink the blood.
“I know it sucks, but I’m doing it to help you!” he said looking at me with sweet eyes.
When the liquid was finished he removed the bottle and wiped the corners of my mouth.
“The holesthat he made are gone and you should also feel better physically,” he said smiling.
“Who are you?” I asked looking at the other boys.
“Now you don’t need this information but keep this,” Hongjoong said giving m a piece of paper, where his cellphone number was written.
“What am I supposed to di with it?” I folded the note and put it in the pocket of my dress.
“In case something happens to you, call me” he said.
When he finished the sentence I saw black and passed out.
tag list:
@zaffiro99​ @atiny-piratequeen​ @yangcaffeine​ 
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an-aura-about-you · 4 years
Text
One Little Push
I don’t even know why they let me write fanfiction because I’m just gonna do stuff like this. And I started this during ptonic week, which is SUPPOSED to be a celebration of platonic friendships in Princess Tutu. (I then wrote about 40 pages to catalog my media collection so this has been put off about as long as it can be.) That said, I’ve gotten this as done as I want to get it, so let’s post it. Warnings in the tags.
Autor spends so much of his time thinking. So much that it’s become an art, staying up three days in a row with nothing but his thoughts. It’s getting to the point that he can do it without trying. He can do it when he doesn’t want to. He can’t sleep at night.
He pushes his cuff out of the way and checks the time. The train isn’t late, but it sure feels like it with how crowded the platform is. He even gets an elbow jab to the back, only just managing to catch himself before he runs into Fakir.
“Do you mind?!” Autor throws over his shoulder. “You aren’t the only one trying to stand here.”
It does little good. It’s hard to tell who’s who with so many bodies pressed together. It could have been anyone.
He resumes waiting for the train, letting his thoughts stab at his brain. They’re only going part of the way together, Autor to meet with his father in a nearby city and Fakir to go on past that to meet with a publisher taken with his fairy tales. It’s disgusting. He’d probably vomit if he had managed to eat anything.
If it wasn’t for him, Fakir wouldn’t know anything of their lineage. About their gift. Fakir wouldn’t be squandering Autor’s inheritance on fairy tales if he had just kept his big mouth shut. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. He forces his jaw to loosen when he realizes he’s grinding his teeth.
The train whistle blows in the distance.
The crowd shifts, forcing Autor even closer to Fakir and the end of the platform.
What if Fakir wasn’t here? he asks from the cold edges of his mind. Everything could be mine if Fakir wasn’t here.
Is it really that simple? He can still write his own stories. They might not take the same shape, but he can still change the world with his words.
The train chugs closer to the station.
Maybe my stories aren’t shaping reality because Fakir is here. This has gone too far.
The crowd shifts again as the train whistle blares loud and clear.
He has too much influence. He’s too dangerous.
For the first time in a long time, Autor stops thinking completely and pushes Fakir in front of the train.
Everything after that happens too fast.
Whoever had elbowed Autor before shoves into him at the same moment, making things look plausibly accidental. Autor sucks in a breath at Fakir’s terrified scream of realization, instinct demanding that he try to hold on to the man he just pushed. Fakir’s hand grips Autor’s arm, but there’s enough shock at the whole thing that he doesn’t try gripping Fakir back. He blinks at the moment of impact, and his arm jerks along for a horrifying second until the force of the train detaches Fakir’s arm from the rest of his remains.
Autor wrenches the dead man’s arm off of him in fright and joins in as the entire station erupts in screams of panic. His unrelenting exhaustion makes for good tears, and he doesn’t try to stop them. His heart constricts, but it does so around a cold, black pit of satisfaction.
---
Autor’s default expression is pretty dour, and it serves him well at the funeral. Or as well as it can surrounded by so many people crying over a mostly empty casket. Even Autor’s parents, his own parents. Did they even know him outside of a classmate Autor’s brought to visit a couple of times? Are they even aware that he’s family?
Everyone is understanding about Autor’s mask of numb shock. No one else in this gathering was there when it happened. No one besides him saw Fakir’s last moments. They’re not picturing a disembodied arm clinging to their sleeve, can barely even imagine it the way he can see it.
Best of all, they’re understanding about the fact that he might not want to talk about it. It’s perfect.
---
“I was wondering when I’d meet a grandson who truly took after me.”
Autor rubs at his eyes, unsure if he’s dreaming or just meditating. He’s never heard that voice before, and yet he instantly knows who it is.
“Quick, brutal, and straight out of a tragedy,” Drosselmeyer says as he steps out of the dark corner of the room, each word holding the affection of an indulgent grandfather and hands together as though he’s going to applaud at any moment. “And you did it all on your own. I couldn’t be prouder, Autor.”
He presses his mouth into an unsure line and says, “I want you to be proud of me for my writing.”
“As long as you write what you know, I’m sure I will be.”
---
“Autor, I want you to put your writing on hold.”
Autor looks from his work to his mother, only slightly bemused by her request at the moment. “What?”
“Please, stop writing,” she says.
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely.” Lore holds up a hand. “Please, I know it’s a lot to ask, but things have changed.”
He puts his quill down. “They haven’t changed that much, Mother, which makes it more important for me to write.”
“Not when the changes might be caused by the Bookmen,” she counters, her mouth pressing into a line. “Don’t be reckless, Autor.”
He turns in his chair towards her. “I’m not naive. The Bookmen are always going to be a-”
“Autor, stop and think about it!” Lore insists, taking hold of his shoulders. “Fakir’s death might not have been an accident! What if the same thing happens to you?”
Autor stares at her, mouth agape in protest but not making a sound. What can he tell her?
“I’ve already asked your father to take it into consideration,” she continues in his silence. “You know how he is, being more prone to storyspinning the way he uses it. He’s even thinking about retiring.”
“What?!” he replies to the news, getting to his feet and disoriented from suddenly being at the same level as his mother. “Surely Father would be all right.”
“That’s just it: we don’t know,” Lore says, squeezing his shoulders. “We don’t know what they’re going to do or if they’re even behind it. If it is them, it’s not the first time they’ve considered doing whatever it takes to stop a storyspinner. It’s not even the first time they considered killing Fakir if they were the ones responsible for his death.”
“It was an accident,” Autor says, but he closes his mouth right after.
“I know you didn’t mean to, but whoever shoved into you might have had other intent. You might have been hit by that train yourself if whoever was behind you thought they could get away with it.”
Lore pulls him into a tight hug, doing her best to restrain a sob as she does.
“I just don’t- don’t want to lose my family,” she tells him, her voice hitching in the middle.
Autor gingerly puts his arms around her, doing his best to keep the bile from what he plans to do down. “Mother, do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then trust in what I choose to do.”
“But-”
“Mutti,” he interrupts, squeezing her a little. “I know you don’t want me to be reckless. I promise I won’t be. Do you trust that?”
He can hear her swallow as she thinks about it.
“Yes,” she answers.
“Thank you,” he says, hoping the words don’t sound as dry and brittle as they feel in his mouth.
---
“So nice to see you again, grandson.”
Autor gasps and whips his head to look behind. His hair is loose, and he has to take his glasses off to attempt fixing it. He doesn’t bother with fixing anything else like his loosened cravat, his sleeves slipping from their rolled up state, or the ink stains on his his hands. “Drosselmeyer!”
“You looked like you were having trouble,” he says, idly picking up a page from Autor’s disheveled stack of writing. “Not writer’s block, is it?”
“It’s not working!” Autor replies, snatching the paper back. “Please, I need to keep my attempts in order.”
Drosselmeyer tsks at him. “Now how am I supposed to help if I can’t read it?” He takes Autor’s work up again and looks it over. The more he reads, the more he shakes his head. “Oh Autor, did you really think you’d be able to influence all of Goldkrone like that in your first worthwhile attempt at storyspinning? And all because you still have some thread of yourself that can’t let your mother know what you really are.” He drops it on the desk again. “You really should just start smaller and concentrate on her.”
“And make myself more suspicious by having her memory the only one altered? I have more brains than that.”
“Even so, most of the town already thinks it was an accident without you trying to rewrite it in everyone’s minds. Why waste time trying to get away with a murder you’ve already gotten away with?”
Autor frantically shakes his head. “If it’s not an accident, a complete accident, then she might stop my writing! I have to write! Surely you understand that I have to write!”
He grins wide. “Of course I understand that. If you’re having that much trouble with it actually happening, why don’t I help you?”
“Please,” he answers without hesitation, almost before Drosselmeyer could finish his offer.
Drosselmeyer covers Autor’s eyes with a gloved hand. (Or perhaps just a glove as he doesn’t see a wrist.)  “Then close your eyes, and I’ll take it from here.”
---
Autor can write in his sleep.
Every writer’s dream has become his reality. All he has to do is sit at his desk, take up his quill, and he’s gone. When he comes back, the story is there. It’s as if the story wrote itself. He’s blacking out for longer and longer. Autor can’t stay awake when he writes.
---
Logos strokes his beard in contemplation, a look Autor’s often seen his father wear when he’s turning the words over in his head. Like all blood relations of Drosselmeyer, he knows just how important it is to choose your words carefully, even more so with how he’s chosen to use their gift. It itches at Autor, prickles the back of his head. Whatever he wants to tell him apparently couldn’t wait until dinner, couldn’t be said around his mother.
He sighs against his hand and says, “Autor, I understand there are different ways to process trauma, but your mother and I think it might be time for you to speak to someone about what happened. Professionally.”
Autor frowns in befuddlement. “What? Therapy?”
Logos nods. “We won’t force you to go. We know that won’t do any good. But ever since the accident with Fakir, you’ve been less present. All you seem to do is write about what happened.”
Autor sits up straight, back stiff as a board. “You’ve read it?”
“Autor, you’ve left seventeen versions of the same story littering the office. It was inevitable.” He leans forward. “Writing to get it out isn’t a problem by itself, but now that it’s the only thing you’re doing at all, it’s becoming a problem. And besides that, you need to grasp the limits of what we can do.” He shakes his head once. “You can rewrite the accident a thousand times if you like, but you won’t be able to use our abilities to change what happened. Don’t blame yourself for Fakir being gone.”
Autor makes a reflexive sound that he thinks is a laugh but might sound like a sob and covers his mouth. Even he’s not sure which one it was.
Whatever it was, Logos doesn’t find the noise surprising or out of place. “Your mother and I have found a good doctor, and we both think you should at least meet her.”
“You think I’m crazy,” Autor says, dropping his hand away from his mouth.
Logos looks at him as though he had just been slapped. “I think you’re hurting. And we just want to find some way to help you.”
Autor gets to his feet and holds his arms out in a helpless shrug. “And what would I tell the doctor? Make her a confidant to our storyspinning? You seem to think that’s what I’m doing. Why don’t we just tell the whole city? The Bookmen already know anyway, so what’s a few more people in on it? We’ve really thought this through.”
Logos likewise stands, still a good head taller than his son. “Why are you acting like I’m stupid? I know you’re writing a story, but you can’t do storyspinning on the past. You have to move forward for change, and you’re stuck.”
He gives Logos an incredulous look. He can tell, but he’s still acting like Autor’s innocent? He thinks back to all of the times he’s heard his father sing, trying to recall if he can tell when storyspinning is taking place or not. Is it something he just has to develop? With that thought, the truth of the matter crashes into him and he bolts out of the room.
---
Autor locks himself in the office, hands over his mouth and fingers meeting over the bridge of his nose.
“Back to work, I see,” Drosselmeyer says.
“I’m not a storyspinner,” Autor responds.
“Oh, you are. A weak little thing, but that doesn’t matter. A quill is a quill, a hand is a hand.”
“You’re using me.”
“You’re using me, grandson,” Drosselmeyer retorts, though his tone is surprisingly jovial. “I may be giving it more influence than you can manage, but the stories are all you. Not that I mind for now since they’re my favorite genre.”
“They’re not my stories if I don’t know what I’m writing.”
“We didn’t set any terms, grandson. If this is going to be a problem, then we can end our partnership.”
Before anything could be said, a hand from behind grabs Autor and he knows nothing else.
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Text
come up for air
Title: come up for air
Word count: 1865 
Summary: Roman plummets to certain death. Logan dives after him. Romantic Logince. Royalty!AU. Happy ending.
Warnings: peril, attempted murder, drowning, talk of death/dying, reckless behavior, blink-and-you-miss-it mention of blood, non-descriptive vomiting/bile, angst sprinkled in, flirting, it gets real sappy at the end.
A/N: This is inspired by a scene in Aladdin, but in no way follows the plot of that movie. Really just written for fun, honestly. ^u^ Hope you enjoy it! Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.
Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge, and also @sanders-sides-thuri because Logince ^u^
Roman’s lungs seize as he plunges into the water.
It’s cold. It’s dark. Roman sinks, thrashing against the rope that cuts painfully into his wrists behind his back.
He can’t get loose.
He kicks with his legs but the ropes around his ankles are just as tight. He can feel himself sinking. The sunlight refracting through the water’s surface is swallowed by the depths. He loses track of which way is up but he’s sinking, sinking, sinking. He clenches his jaw behind the cloth wrapped around his mouth.
He struggles. He has to get to the surface. He has to—Roman can’t breathe.
It’s dark and silent and unforgiving. He’s being swallowed. With blinding panic, Roman wrenches with his arms behind him. Attempts again to kick his legs apart. He’s dragged further into the abyss. The pressure is squeezing his chest, the last bubble of air forcing itself out of him and moving in the opposite direction that Roman is moving.  
He pulls against his binds but his mind feels fuzzy. Where is he? Why can’t he breathe?
He sucks in a desperate, blind gasp and icy water floods his lungs. Roman coughs as his chest convulses, doubling over in the water as he continues to be pulled down, down, down. He’s swallowing water and his mouth tastes like salt and copper and he can’t breathe--
His feet hit something gritty and wet. His knees buckle.
He thinks of the young prince he’d seen last night, had been spending time with the past few months. Roman thinks of his dark, intelligent eyes behind square glasses. The suppressed smile that always made Roman’s heart flutter. The reserved way he’d looked at him as if he saw everything he was too afraid to admit to. The fleeting moments of wonder and curiosity that Roman got only glimpses of, but that made him want to see that look all the time.
The image is so clear in his mind that he almost thinks he can see him in the dark around him. Then the world lurches and goes black.
“ROMAN!”
The name tears itself from Logan as he crests the cliffside and sees the guards hurl him into the water below. At the shout, the guards turn to Logan with surprise evident in their eyes.
“Your highness—”
Logan takes off at a dead sprint. He rips off his outer cloak and throws it to the ground as he runs. The guards shout, their protests ignored as Logan kicks off the edge of the cliff and dives after Roman. He sucks in a deep gasp for air right before he breaks into the surface of the ocean.
It’s cold. It’s dark. The water mutes everything but Logan’s panicked heartbeat in his chest.
The prince opens his eyes and ignores the slight sting from the saltwater as he frantically spins in circles underwater. He doesn’t see Roman. He swims downward.
Come on, Roman. Where are you? he thinks to himself, unable to help the edges of desperation that leaks into his thoughts. But the water feels like a silent abyss. There is nothing to be heard here. Even Logan’s silent pleas to not take Roman from him.
There.
He’s nearly reached the bottom floor of the ocean when he sees Roman on his knees a second before his eyes roll back and he slumps over. Logan swims harder.
No, you don’t, Roman, he grits silently as he reaches the ocean floor. Logan wraps an arm around Roman’s chest. He sees the ropes around his hands and ankles, the cloth around his mouth to muffle his shouts for help, and Logan feels fury settle like ice in his stomach. He uses the surge of unexpected anger to kick off the ocean floor, hauling Roman with him as he tries desperately to reach the surface as fast as possible.
Logan takes in a deep, gulping gasp of air when they break the surface of the water. Roman doesn’t—a detail that does not escape Logan, and instead makes his grip around the other tighten.
They’re nearly at the shoreline. The current must have carried them farther to the shore than Logan had realized. He’s grateful.
He drags Roman out with him onto the sand, far enough that the shoreline laps lazily at Roman’s ankles as if asking forgiveness for its merciless, unrelenting depths. Logan falls to his knees beside Roman as his muscles give out, coughing up saltwater.
“Roman,” he says, still trying to catch his breath as he pulls the cloth down from Roman’s face. He rests his hand on Roman’s chest afterward. “Wake up.”
No response.
Logan’s hand fists against the thin, soaked cotton shirt clinging to Roman’s chest. “Come on, Princey,” he says between gritted teeth. He presses a little on Roman’s chest. “Wake up.”
The world is blurring around the edges of Logan’s vision. Roman had been the first suitor to show up for Logan’s hand that Logan actually found himself… falling for, if that’s what it was called. He was exciting. He was stimulating. Logan saw the bright look in his eyes when he talked about exploration and he saw the softening of his smile when Logan talked to him about his subject-first approach to leadership. He wasn’t afraid to push back against the prince, challenge his ideas and debate his philosophies with him.
There was also the way his lips felt brushing against the back of Logan’s knuckles when he bid him goodnight. The way Logan’s stomach had done this odd swooping feeling when he talked about he and Logan seeing the world together…
Logan didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he thinks he might be. He wants to find out. This can’t be the end.
“Roman, please,” Logan whispers, shaking him a little. Wet strings of his hair fall into his eyes, dripping onto Roman’s face. “Please wake up—”
Roman’s chest heaves in air. It forces water out, and Roman barely has enough awareness to turn away from the other person beside him as he coughs up the ocean water, spit, and bile that is surging up his throat. He feels sick. The ground is rolling and tilting beneath him. He’s gasping and coughing and shaking—
“Easy,” says a voice. Roman feels a hand between his shoulder blades. It feels remarkably steady.
Roman doesn’t have it in him to respond. He just waits until the nausea abates before he collapses back onto the sand and looks at the other person. His chest is still heaving in gasps of air, and the world is still spinning above him and under him. But the face is familiar. And… impossible.
“L…Logan?” Roman asks, his brow pulled together. Logan looks pale—paler than normal—and as soaked as Roman is. His usually pristine hair falls across his dark eyes that are wide and soft for reasons Roman doesn’t understand. Is he even real? Roman goes to reach a hand up, but his wrists are still bound behind his back.
Logan huffs a relieved laugh, but there’s something pained just under its surface that keeps Roman from enjoying the sound of it. “Yes, Roman.” Logan swallows, averting his gaze a moment later and reaching into his boot. He pulls out a small knife.
“What… are you doing here?” Roman asks, letting Logan pull him back up into a sitting position. Logan moves behind him as he does so, and Roman can feel him sawing carefully through the ropes around his wrists. Roman leans back against Logan’s chest a bit, his eyes drifting closed from sudden exhaustion.
“Rescuing you, I believe,” Logan murmurs with surprising tenderness and affection.
The response makes unexpected, relieved laughter bubble up and spill past his lips. “I thought that was my job, my prince.”
With the sound of snapping twine, Roman feels the tension in his arms release. He pulls his arms from around his back, wincing a little at the skin rubbed raw and red from his struggle in the ocean. He feels Logan shift from behind him, but he braces a hand on the back of Roman’s head and eases his descent back onto the sand gently before moving down by his feet.
Logan doesn’t respond to Roman’s lighthearted comment. Roman studies the prince as he cuts through the ropes. There’s tension etched into his shoulders. Roman can’t see his beautiful eyes very clearly from the way his waterlogged hair falls into his face, but he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to Logan’s hands as the ropes fall away and he pockets the knife.
Roman sits up and catches Logan’s hands in his own. Startled, Logan looks up and meets Roman’s gaze.
“What’s troubling you?”
Logan stares at him, disbelieving. “You can’t be serious.”
Roman gives him a light, crooked grin in an attempt to ease some of that shaky look that he can see lingering in Logan’s eyes. Logan only scowls at him, pulling his hands out of Roman’s. He scrubs a hand across his mouth, shakes his head, and looks out towards the ocean’s horizon line.
“They tried to kill you,” Logan says in an even voice.
Roman sits up the rest of the way and nudges Logan with his shoulder. “I’m not that easy to kill.”
“Don’t.” Logan’s voice sounds higher than Roman’s used to hearing it. Logan clears his throat and tries again. “Don’t play this off. If I hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, Roman, you would probably be dead.”
“Luckily you were.”
“How can you be so cavalier about this?” Logan snaps, pushing himself to his feet. “My own palace isn’t safe for you, Roman! You’re not… safe with me.” Logan’s voice wavers at the end. Roman sees the tremble in Logan’s hand right before the prince curls his hands into fists to steady them. Roman thinks he sees a certain sheen to his eyes, but he looks away before Roman can figure out if it’s just a trick of the light.
Roman frowns, getting to his own feet. “Hey. That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. Hey.” Roman grabs Logan’s hand again, pulling it against his chest. “With you is the safest place I could be.” Roman sees Logan’s jaw jump, refusing to look at him. Roman sighs and brushes some of Logan’s damp hair out of his eyes. “You rescued me, remember?”
“Because of luck. We can’t always rely on that.”
“I got pretty lucky when I met you.” He brings Logan’s hand up to his lips and brushes his lips against the prince’s knuckles. He sees the pained look in Logan’s eyes and the flirty, teasing smile Roman’s wearing fades into something more sincere. “I’m okay, Logan. I’m here and I’m okay.”
Logan’s exhale is a little bit shaky, but he nods. Roman closes his eyes as Logan leans his forehead against his. “Okay.” There’s a long pause before Logan speaks again. “I think I… might… love you.” Roman’s heart gives an unexpectedly hard squeeze at the other prince’s soft voice and softer words. “Is that okay?”
Roman smiles softly and presses the prince’s hand a little tighter against his heartbeat. “More than okay. Because I think I might I love you too.”
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