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homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months

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K.I.A. | Oneshot

(A/N) This one could really hit hard. Please take care of yourself.

Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: lots of angst, death of a loved one, depression, grief, alcohol, comfort in the end

Synopsis: I don't think there is a need for a synopsis. The title says it all.

It was supposed to be fine.

It was supposed to be safe.

“It’s going to be a quick and easy mission, love. I’ll be back in no time.”

That’s what he had said.

That’s what he had promised.

But he lied.

The mission wasn’t quick. It wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t be back in no time.

He was dead.

Killed in action, an honorable death.

To hell with them. To hell with their honorable death. Death isn’t honorable, death is death. And now he’s gone. And I’ll never see him again.

It’s his funeral and I can’t even look at them. The ones that survived. Price, Soap, Gaz. They all came back but he didn’t. He didn’t and he never will.

They hand me a flag, folded into a triangle. If I could, I would throw it at their heads. If I could, I would yell at them. If I could, I would I hit them. But I can’t. I can’t do anything, but stand there, hold that stupid flag and cry while they fire off their shots. I can’t do anything.

Well, I can do something. I can lie in bed. I can cry, a lot. I can ignore my hunger until I almost throw up. I can see his shadow, trick myself into thinking that he’s back. That he’s alive.

And I can think of him. Of all the good memories. How we met. The first time we kissed. How he asked me out. Our first date. The birthday he gave me the puppy.

The puppy…at the though of Riley, I sit up. At least until I realise that my mom took her after the funeral. She was safe, cared for. I was alone. So fucking alone.

I don’t know how much time passed, a week? Maybe a month. Perhaps even two.

I finally get up and take a shower. I smell after all.

The shower feels incredibly small without Simon behind me.

And that’s how I start crying again. I sit under the stream for what feels like hours before I finally find the strength to get out and dry off my body before falling back onto my bed.

But now it’s getting better.

I take showers from time to time.

Sometimes I even eat some food. I don’t cook anything, everything I’ve had, had spoiled by now, but I just order in.

It’s been four months since Price stood at my door and told me he was dead. That Simon would never come back. And I’ve finally found a way to dull the pain.

Alcohol isn’t the answer, of course. But for now it’s the only thing that is making me feel even slightly alive.

I spent most my day at the bar nearby, what else am I supposed to do?

Home makes me think about Simon.

Work makes me think about Simon.

Hanging out with my family or friends make me think of Simon.

We had never gone to this bar together, so I’m safe here. And the alcohol drowns out my thoughts of him. Well, most of them anyway. At least it leaves enough sense to find my way back home.

It’s become some sort of ritual. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to the bar, get shitfaced and go back home.

Today isn’t any different. Why should it be? But why…does it feel different.

I usually spend multiple hours there, but today I just want to get back home. After I pay for the drink I actually had, I make my way home. But I feel watched, the whole way back. At least I’ll feel better as soon as I’m in bed.

I unlock the front door and walk inside, not paying any mind to the big shadow standing in the hallway, or to how similar it looks to Simon. Instead, I lock the door behind me and shrug off the jacket I’m wearing, hanging it up.

I walk past the shadow and to the staircase leading up and to the bedroom I share…shared with Simon. But something stops me. One word.

“Love?”

I freeze not moving a single muscle. It can’t be him. But it sounds like him. But he’s dead. But it looks like him.

Stiff, almost like a robot, I turn around and look at the shadow. And I see Simon.

“You’re not real.”

I shake my head and start walking up the stairs.

“Love, it’s me. I’m sorry, I-”

I cut him off as I spin around and slap him across the face. That used to get rid of the hallucinations, but…he’s still here. His head whips to the right from the impact, but he doesn’t move.

“Simon…”

He looks at me. He is here. So I touch him.

I place my hands against his chest, against his beating heart.

And it is beating. He is alive. He is here.

I move my hands to his shoulder. They are as broad and hard as I remember.

I move them to his neck, feel his pulse. He is here. He is alive.

“Simon.”

I only realise that I’m crying when Simon lifts his hands and carefully wipes them away.

“Simon.”

A sob wracks through me and I let him wrap his arms around me.

Another sob and I let him pull me closer.

My body shakes as he holds it to his.

His body. Firm and warm. Hard, covered in muscles.

He is here. He is alive.

“You were dead.”

He tightens his hold on me.

“I know, love. I know.”

I claw at his jacket, trying to get him closer.

“I cried for you.”

Again, his hold tightens.

“I know. I wish I could’ve done something. All I could do was watch.”

I continue to cry and sob in his arms.

At some point, Simon picks me up and carries me upstairs. But not to the bed. To the bathroom.

Carefully, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub before he turns on the shower. With hands, as gentle as I remember them, he undresses me, before he undresses himself.

He navigates me into the shower, before he carefully washes me. All the while, holding me close and consoling me whenever I have another break down.

And then, he leaves me there. He leaves the water on and it feels like he’s gone again. Maybe I just imagined him. Him being here. Him consoling me. Him taking care of me.

But I didn’t.

He joins me in the shower again after ten minutes.

“I just changed the sheets real quick. Let’s get you out of here, princess.”

Once again he picks me up and carries me to the edge of the bathtub. He had placed a towel there, so I don’t feel the cold of the metal when he sets me down.

Carefully, as if I were made out of porcelain he dried my body before he pulled one of his old t-shirts over my head. Once he is dry as well, he carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed, before he gently tugs me in.

“I’ll be right back, my love. I’ll just get you a glass of water.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead and is about to walk away when I catch his wrist.

“Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”

He turns to look at me and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Simon, please. I…I can’t loose you again.”

Tears are rolling down my cheeks again. And this is what he needed.

He nods and climbs into bed beside me, immediately pulling me close against his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry my love. I’ll never leave you again. I promise. Never again.”

I nod but continue to sob into his chest. And this is how I fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning, alone in bed.

“Simon? Simon!”

Without thinking, I try to rush to the door, but my feet get tangled in the sheets. I fall to the floor, but get up immediately.

Please let him be there. Please let him be alive. Please.

Please please please please please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple-

“Love? Are you alright?”

He is here. He is alive.

“You…you are here. You are alive.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His arms immediately wrap around me and support my weight completely.

“Ssh, it’s okay my love. I’m here. I promise you I’m here.”

Like a baby, he started to gently bounce me up and down until I slowly started to calm down. Now I know why that works on babies.

For the rest of the morning, I stay there, wrapped securely in his arms, while he cooks pancakes and cleans the dishes. I even eat in his arms.

And even after that, I’m hesitant to leave them. But I do. I let him set me down on the couch and watch him as he flies through the house and cleaned the messes that had accumulated since his ‘death’.

His ‘death’.

“Why?”

Simon stops in his tracks and turns to look at me.

“Why what, my love?”

I sigh, already feeling bad about asking this question. But I need to know.

“Why did you fake your death? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Now Simon sighs. He puts away the broom and sits down next to me.

“There was a mole in the 141 and we had to flush them out. This was the only way we could think of. I’m so so sorry love. I promise, I tried my best to get them to change their mind. Or to at least let me tell you, but the mole…he had to buy it and…”

“They were afraid I wouldn’t fake it well enough.”

Simon nods, sadness clear in his eyes.

I nod. And I can’t say that I don’t understand. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating him. I just never thought it would go that far.

“Si…please never do that again.”

He shakes his head and picks me up, putting me down on his lap.

“Never, princess. I’ll never leave you again. I swear on my grave.”

At that statement I pull back slightly and look at him. His lips were pulled into a slight smile. And then I start laughing.

“You are such an idiot.”

Simon chuckles and nods before pulling me back onto his chest.

“I’m sorry, love. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I shake my head and cuddle into him and I know this is going to be alright. We are going to be alright.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction

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planetariumwriting · 1 year

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Doctor, I don't feel good.

Follow me on AO3: PL4NETARIUM

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘆𝗮/𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, +𝟭𝟴

When The Hatter and his crew discovered that Chishiya was a doctor, he wasn't happy. They talked clear about it: he had to help the injured ones after the games. They didn't want to lose potential people and the chance of getting the cards they needed. Screw it. He didn't want to take care of Aguni, that piece of shit of Niragi and everybody else. He would have lied if he said he cared about them. In all this shit, he was considering the only positive side of it: using this excuse to take care of you and that wonderful body of yours. What a sexy sight. In his mind he already fantasized about fucking you on his deck; you all naked and him wearing his white coat. Who would have expected that Chishiya had a roleplay link, mh? He was surprised about his own thoughts too, but also amused. The sexual tension between both of you was a constant crescendo. It didn't pass a lot since when he pinned you against a wall after ending a game. That time you were already making soft sounds at Chishiya whispering into your ear.

“We shouldn't run into each other like this, it's not good for both of us.”

Your body was melting and his hand on your waist was feeling all of it. He couldn't stop thinking about that encounter, he couldn't stop thinking about you. It was pathetically adorable how the first time you were at The Beach, you tried to be-friend everyone. Even if Chishiya ignored you and your methods, he didn't think twice to protect you from “being friend” with Niragi. Maybe he was too direct with you about it, but at least it worked.

“If you want to be fucked and treated less than a human being, he's the perfect friend for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said.” Your innocence was something not only Niragi, and probably others too, wanted to steal. But also Chishiya was into that idea. When he wanted something, he didn't care if he had to fight for it — it was already his. He knew he only had to wait for you to fall in his arm. That night The Beach was loud as always. The majority of the people won the game, The Hatter had the cards he needed and everybody was happy. Chishiya didn't want to join the party, actually he never did. If he had, it was because he wanted to keep his eyes on you. Nodoby would have wanted to mess with something that belonged to him, am I wrong? Everytime, though, you behaved so well. He didn't have to worry much, he knew you would have searched for him. The only thing he didn't know, or more like he didn't know why, was the fact that he was wearing his white coat. It felt strange to do something (actually wear) that he was used to do in the "other world". “Doctor.” He came back to his sense when he heard your voice calling him like that. Doctor, he repeated in his mind while he grinned, turning to look at you. Your body with the bikini you were wearing made it even more ethereal. Oh, Chishiya's pants were starting to feel tighter. “Did the doctor say you could come in?” You simply locked the door behind you, both of you wanted to be interrupted what you were about to start. You walked towards him, not even asking if you could sit on his lap. You simply did. Your arms were already around his neck, while his hands were already moving up and down your body. “Doctor," you smiled at him innocently, "I don't feel good.” “Should we check?” He kissed the crook of your neck and shoulder, making you shiver and gasping for air when, without a warning, he sank his teeth into your carotid. You felt the moans escaping your mouth, the inability to control yourself was already gone. “Such good reflexes.” You started to rock against Chishiya's lap, straddling his hips and feeling the boner against your warm core. You couldn't wait any much longer. “Doctor...please...” The lower part of your bikini was already on the floor, and you couldn't care less, especially when you felt his fingers against your core – parting your folds and getting in, moving them inside in a fast speed. You were gasping for air and your moans didn't help the situation at all.

“Let's see...”

His fingers were out and you could feel the empty sensation inside you. He put his wet fingers into his mouth, cleaning them for good. “No, you are completely fine.”

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #ao3 #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #x reader

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annika-thelostlove · 9 months

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The art of paper folding - Brian Wilcox x fem!reader

Word count/ 4015

Preview/ But You, for whatever reason that led to it, you were assigned the seat on the other side of him. You are always anxious with stress. You think that maybe this guy who has a reputation for being a smartass will bring too much attention to your side of the classroom. You're a little glad Sally would probably take most of his attention, though. Those types of pretty girls probably have it bad sometimes dealing with boys like brian, you think.

Author note/ its finally completed! Its the most high school romantic idiocy I can put in a oneshot. This is lightly based on my own high school experience. The guy who I thought liked me back really did make me an origami heart. Soon after, he said something super mean to me, and my little 15 yr old heart never forgave him.

Warnings/ super fluffy, and not well edited

Brian is the type of guy in school who always talks shit. It's like he can't help it. Things fall out of his mouth unguarded. He is 17, but he still gets worked up over things like he is still in elementary school. In his new math class in the new year of school, he purposely sits next to the popular girl Sally because he thought it would be fun, but she doesn't tolerate his shit one bit.

But You, for whatever reason that led to it, you were assigned the seat on the other side of him. You are always anxious with stress. You think that maybe this guy who has a reputation for being a smartass will bring too much attention to your side of the classroom. You're a little glad Sally would probably take most of his attention, though. Those types of pretty girls probably have it bad sometimes dealing with boys like brian, you think.

Brian is a guy you've only heard about through another friend because he's "someone's annoying brother that dyes his own hair black cos he thinks it's edgy. He also doesn't wash it often to keep the cheap box colour for longer. Hence, the sticky looking locks. He confidently sticks to wearing black and oversized clothes that hide his 30-pound body." Says the people who talk about him.

So the best course of action is to keep your head down, and don't get involved with either of Brian or Sally.

But then, as the year goes by, whenever Brian is bored at being ignored by Sally, he will turn his greasy head to you and give you a little poke. The first few times sent your nerves up, you were so scared of what he would say to you. Will he say something mean? Point out your pimples? Say your teeth look crooked? That you have a mustache you should shave it? Horrible horrible little scenarios in your mind. But Brian, for the last few months, only asks you funny dumb questions just to avoid actually learning in class. It makes your heart laugh a little in relief.

Brian is sarcastic and complains a lot. He has too many theories and tells stories exclusively comprised of sound effects and explosions made with his mouth. He smells like deep fry oil that you grow to like so much because it reminds you of hashbrowns in the morning. It's gotten pathetic how many things you notice about him. You even love that buck tooth of his making its way out of his little mouth.

Some days, he enjoys telling you how corporations pay commercials to trick people into thinking that you're the bad guy. You listen to him so intently, and the more you do, the things about him begin to make more sense to you.

Brian is not a bad person. Not like what people say. Really, really not. He is actually kind of great.

He's just a little distracted at school, that's all.

You share with him your own little jokes under your breath during class now. And by some miracle, he finds you funny. A fierce blush would bloom up you collar at his laughter.

You hope that it makes him feel special. No one else has really thought of you to be very funny. You've told him some weird things, like: "Last night I had a dream about Dwayne Johnson as a centaur," and he would get detention from laughing too hard.

At times he would still try to get Sallys attention, but most days he spends his time leaving silly doodles at the edge of your notebooks.

🩵🩵🩵🩵

Today, Brian has been folding paper in class again. He watched a YouTube video on how to make an origami heart last week. For whatever reason, he's been so invested in getting it perfect.

He was trying to show off his progress, so he made one in your class. Looking over at Sally's desk, he watched her pack her notebook away, getting ready to leave. Brian then redirects his attention to you. You were still finishing writing your notes down, then packing away your pens.

In a second, he decides to slip the heart shaped paper, between the pages of your notebook without much thought of why. The class then packs up and files out to go home.

💘💘💘💘

You can't believe it, it just can't be.

Brian's heart origami was in your notebook. You had just got home and pulled out your notes, currently staring at the red piece of folded paper. Did he slip it inside? Maybe it was just an accident. It might have fallen. Fallen perfectly, between the pages. That must be it. It didn't mean anything.

You rub your face in confusion. Your heart is not neutral about this at all. Even if it was an innocent mistake. Your heart thumps in the possibility. That maybe. Brian Wilcox gave you this heart on purpose.

But, no. He doesn't see you like that. You're just his friend.

The heart origami sits so innocently on your book, and you picture him making it step by step. His eyes looking up at you, after another doodle he's finished on your book. The way he's smiles, holding back his laughter with shining eyes.

You don't know, but maybe, maybe. Brian could like you…more than as a friend.

The thought echoes around in your quiet bedroom.

🥤🥤🥤🥤

Later when a group project comes up, Brian without hesitation jumps to join a group of boys in the class and leaves you with Sally.

Sally is popular, and very beautiful, but it was the first time you really tried to talk to her. It turns out she's incredibly insightful and a good listener. Its nice for someone to give you their attention like that. Which is funny in a way, it makes you feel kinda special, because Sally doesn't even give Brian the time of day. So in your curiosity, you ask her about that.

"I just hate getting the attention of a class clown, when what I really need is to focus in class" she rolls her eyes as she says it. She takes a glance at Brian's group. "..but I notice that Brian and you have become quite the pair, I think it's pretty cool, Brian is so behaved when he's with you".

Blood rushes to your face. "Oh haha, no, no, were not that close..."

But at that moment, the group of boys with Brian began to get loud and rowdy. They've been loudly debating about the best kind of place to take a date out. They've begun to joke and laugh at how Brian works at Mickeys, mocking him how hilarious it could be for a first date. You saw that he was laughing along with them, but you could see it was irritating him.

"Ohhh noooo! A girl would NEVER ask for another date. Can you imagine making her order at the counter? How embarrassing"

"And then brian asks for the kids' meal?!" laughter from the boys.

"Noooo! Brian would use his employee discounts on the combos! That's just so sad!" More laughter. And it just irked you until you spoke up.

"We'll I think it could be fun for a date?" You say interrupting the loud conversation. It was a numbing silence for a fraction of a second before Brian spoke.

"Well, it's because your standards are low since you can't even seem to find a boyfriend." Came a quick response from Brian's mouth. The boys gasped and blew up with sudden laughter.

Regrets flash across Brian's face instantly when he sees you speechless, with hurt written on your brow, but you're fighting against it. Sally puts her hand on your arm, worried about you. The boys don't seem to notice anything wrong. But Brian notices.

He didn't realize what he said. He was just so annoyed and wanted someone else to be teased instead of him.

You feel hot, and your skin is prickly. That was really mean. It hurt. You weren't so sure why. Because what he said was true. But it hurt because it came from him.

Your thoughts flashed back to the origami heart that you've been keeping in your bedside table, it actually means nothing to him. And all the other hearts that he must have made this week and before. All just folded paper and nothing more.

But you swallow the feeling down somehow and focus back on your partner and the project for the rest of the class.

But that night, in your bed, under the covers, frustrated tears fall into your pillow.

Am I ugly? No one has ever wanted me. No one has ever seen me. Aren't I good enough for anyone?

Brian wouldn't ever see you in that way. You hate it, hate him. Hate yourself. He made you feel like you mattered to him, but you must have made it all up in your head, a boy has never been nice to you until Brian, so you didn't know any better. He won't ever see you that way.

🎒🎒🎒🎒

The next week at school you try to act like you always have, havung a better understanding now that Brian is simply the way he is. So you become a little distant. He notices of course. He's been thinking about what he said over and over. And hates himself, he's never liked saying sorry in all his life. But now he's scared for the first time that he might be losing you if he dosent act. You won't even look at his eyes anymore. Like you find it too painful to do so.

During lunch break, he finds you, he asks, unsure how to converse naturally.

"Hey, how's your project with Sally going?" He says. Then you realize 'he must have never stopped liking Sally even from the start of the year. It was so obvious, why didn't I see it?'

"It's going well, actually. we're almost done. Did you want to tag along bri? We're gonna be at the library after school to finish up." You think maybe you can help him get Sally to see that he's a really nice guy.

Brain seems nervous but says yes straight away. He must really like her, you think.

After school, once you all meet up and finish off studying at the library, you insist on going home first and leave to catch your bus. Brian tries to ask you to hang out longer. But Sally lets you go and wants to speak to brian alone. Sally seems like she has something serious to tell him.

You smile a little in sadness, its working out well, it seems.

📚📚📚📚

Brian Pov

She left me here with sally. Avoiding me again. I watch as her back disappears out the front doors. Then Sally hits me on the arm.

"Ow! What's your problem?"

"You!"

"What did I do to you?"

"Not what you've done to me! But to her!! all year, you've been making googly eyes at her, and the other day, you treat her like crap! You need to fix this and apologize, and then leave her alone if you're only going to hurt her feelings because of your ignorant attitude."

"I don't know what you mean"

"I see everything brian, like how you doodle on her notebooks, and talk quietly to her, how you giggle under your breath at her jokes. You honestly can't be more obvious how you treat her special, but then you turn on her so quickly like that. It's such a dick move. An asshole move"

He puts his face in his hands in shame. "God, I AM an asshole!!" Brian is on the brink of breaking down."Do you think she hates me now? I messed up so badly."

"Tell her you're sorry face to face. Whatever she does to you after that is up to her. Though since we're talking about her, she will probably forgive you. But if you want to finally tell her you like her, this might be your best chance "

Brian blushes red, "w-what, I don't like her like that-"

"Why do you bother lying, brian?"

"It really isn't- ughh."

Brian quickly rushes after where you left. And found you sitting at the bus shelter, he looks at the digital sign it says your bus arrives in 20 mins

He looks down at you, and you're already looking at him sheepishly. You've been caught.

"Your bus isn't even here till another 20 mins!" Brian almost yells, but he's playfully scolding you like you normally do. You look down and smile. Brian loves that, your little shy grin.

"How did it go with Sally?" You ask hopefully.

"Good. But I don't want to talk about that. I need to tell you some stuff. Uh, the first one is that..I said something the other day. I just-"

"It's okay, I get it, I overreacted-"

"No, you didnt- Wait. It wasn't that. My point is i'm sorry for what i said, I think I hurt you. It's not cool of me. I'm always battling my asshole-ary every day, you know that. But you didn't deserve it. So I'm sorry"

"You are, forgiven." And you give him a small closed lip smile.

"Oh really? Already? Well, and, um, the 2nd thing is. There's something I have to ask you-" Your bus comes and stops loudly in front of them. Brian is flustered. You are conflicted, there's only one bus every hour for this route, you should take this bus. But you want to wait for Brian to finish.

"Um, Brian, think I should take this bus"

"Oh, yeah of course! Tomorrow then!"

"Ok, see ya bri"

As you climb up the door to pay and look back at Brian, the bus then pulls away, and you miss his sad little frown and his green eyes following you as your image fades down the street.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

The next day in class, Brian pulls out another origami heart he worked on last night and slides it over to you. The teacher notices it and warns everyone about passing notes in class. You grab the note and see what it says.

"Good morning beautiful! Plz open me" you frown at being called beautiful. Glancing over at him, he smirks.

Nervous, you open it carefully. Inside it says something that makes her heart race and break at the same time.

"Let's go to Mickeys tonight, it's my treat" then you hear a snickering from a few desks away, it was one of his boys looking over at you.

🍟🍟🍟🍟

You go to Mickeys, you think he's just asked you out as a friend, but he seems to be as nervous as you are, but you dont want to get your hopes up.

After having your meal in awkward silence, he asks you as casually as he can muster.

"So, I was thinking, do you want a second date?"

"Huh? D-date?"

"Y-you know, we went to Mickeys-- like you said! This is like, a date for you"

"…are you..like- just- teasing me? Hahaah…like you're mocking me? You rascal" You laugh nervously, voice trembling all over the place. Trying to hide the sudden emotions that came with realizing what this was all about. He just wanted to humor you.

"Huh? What? No? He laughs. Mickeys is like, your standard right? For like- like a date?"

"Well, no-"

"And-and, I mean I- we hadn't hung out like together yet.. as friends, and like you haven't been on a date before…I thought maybe..i could, be someone you-"

"So you're… helping me?" You laugh comes out jumpy and strange sounding "Oh, wooow,..I um, thanks man. That's just so, thoughtful of you" and you uncharacteristically lean over to punch his arm, you cringe for the fifth time. And he rubs the spot you bumped him.

"But, um, you know I think that maybe we should go on dates with people we actually have feelings for, don't you think? But, thanks for the offer" you shrug and try to laugh it off, but it feels too loud and fake in your ears.

"So no...date?" He looks kind of paler than usual.

You start to gather your trash. "I just realized i need to get home, sorry I can't stay much longer Bri. This was…fun. Bye!" Practically running away.

You don't understand what had just happened. You don't understand Brian at all. Was he that experienced in dating that he could give you a trial of it? That he felt pitty for you?

Your whole body felt hot from embarrassment. And a hard lump has been stuck in your throat ever since you received his little note in class. You practically speed walk all the way home sobbing into your Hoodie.

💛💛💛💛

"Good for you."

"Huh?" Sally is talking to you, Brian is late for your class it seems.

"I got…some tea, from a little bird, or something like that. That you rejected Brian"

"When did I do that?"

"Uh, didn't you go to Mickeys with him the other day?"

"I did." Has he gone and told everyone about it?

"I'm sorry, but I can't pretend that i didn't know. It just happened to be the same day he left a voice message on my phone, and I connected the dots that it was about you. " This made you sad without realizing it. They've been talking?

"Oh, he did?" But you guess it's good that they're getting to know each other.

"Don't look so sad! It wasn't like that, that boy sounded mad over the phone, he was mad at first. Saying stuff on the message like 'you were wrong about everything!' And that 'he was dumb.' But then he just..started crying. Well it sounded like crying. You didn't do that to him?" You stare a Sally perplexed at what it all meant.

"Explain please"

Sally looked at you for a moment and seemed ro realize something then began waving her hands 'no' at you "Ooooooh, wait no, I think you should talk to him about it, i've said too much"

"No, say it please! I'm tired of him playing with me."

"Ughhh, well he..he thought that you liked him, so…and I thought you did too! But then when you clearly don't, which is okay…he's just. It's just sad. He's going through it right now."

"But I don't know why he would be so upset, it's not like he likes me? He likes..someone else."

"You…think so? Huh. Well, I think it's best if you talk to him about this"

"But-"

"It's best if two of you talk"

"No-"

Then, at that moment, Brian walks in late to class and rushes over to his seat between you and Sally.

"You're tardy, Mr Wilcox, which is actually a first. Take your seat."

He acting stiff and can barely look at you.

Normally, you could get his attention and whisper things to him comfortably, but right now, he's so distant that you just decided to message him on your phone.

R U working tonight?

No Thurs

Ok, do u wna study w me n Sally tonight?

No that's ok u guys can just work on ur project together

Oh ok

And that went on for the rest of the lesson. His cold shoulder. Bothered by this you messing him again.

Ur being weird, is this about the other day? I appreciated ur idea, but I just didn't want ppl to confuse our friendship.

Idea?

Yeah like you giving me dating 'experience' without having an actual bf

What?????

She didn't reply after that message out of frustration. Why is he acting like he has no idea what he's been doing to you?

Nevermind Brian

Hey

You know what? I can get a boyfriend anytime if I want.

You hear a sharp gasp quickly after sending your last text. "Hey." He tries to tap your shoulder, but the teacher tells him off right away.

You give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He looks over at you desperately for the rest of that week.

🍔🍔🍔🍔

Thursday comes by. You come to visit Mickeys with Warren, a guy you sometimes talk to in your IT class. You told Warren that there's a guy you like and want to see if he would feel anything if he saw you with someone else. It was stupid, you know it. You promised to buy him a Mickeys meal if he helped you.

You and Warren order at the counter, a sullen Brian takes your order, and you still haven't talked to one another since. And it's eating him inside, and now you're here with someone else? He disappeared to the back once your order was placed.

You receive your burgers and sit down at your table to eat. It was a normal, peaceful few moments until Brian came sprinting out of the kitchen to stop you from eating

"NO, no stop!"

"What! Brian, what's wrong??"

"No, just- don't eat that- I-" You stare at him lost for words, shame written on his face.

"I'm sorr- I just thought -" his face was crumbling, and the shame was turning into sadness. His eyes are glassy with emotion. He buried his face in his hands, defeated. "Never mind, it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"Why you won't like me."

Long silence came after what he said, only broken by Warren slowly getting up to walk away and saying that hes gonna use the bathroom. But either of you actually notice.

"…why I 'won't like you?' Why would that matter, Brian? Why? You like someone, that's who that matters."

"YES, I do. And it DOES."

"Huh??"

"I-im an asshole sometimes. But I know that you know that already, so that can't be the reason. And I'm not much to look at, but. But I've never cared if anyone liked how I looked. It never mattered to me so much before. But I wish I was more, like conventionally appealing. But i mean, that can't be why, you're not that kind of person- but is that why? Or, or- no. Or it's simply because I'm me. Because I'm Brian, the type of asshole that defiles a fucking burger???"

"Brian, please, it's hard for me to understand…"

"I put a LOOGIE in your patty"

"Excuse me????" Not the words you were expecting.

"It was meant for him!!"

"Warren?"

"Yes!"

"Are you somehow, jealous??"

"Yes!"

"And why??"

"Because I like you, and you hate me!"

A painful silence fills the restaurant. Looking around, Brian catches his manager, looking at him disapprovingly. But Brian mouths to him, "just resolving an issue"

"Ok, but lower your voice"

Brian sighs, putting his attention back to you. Sitting there still stunned at his confession. "Let me take that burger back. I'll make you a new one"

"No." You make a mad grab at the box, but Brian had the same thought as you. He now had the other side of the box in his hand.

"Give it!"

"Let go, brian"

"What's the problem!?"

You rip it out of his clasp, open the box, and proceed to scuff the burger down your throat.

"What are you doing?? No!! Why did you do that? I had my saliva in that???"

"Do you think I would do that if I didn't like you?"

A hundred emotions pass through Brian's face in the silence that came after that bizarre display.

"You… like me?"

"Was me eating your foul burger not clear enough?"

"Well no. But. You…like me?"

"I have, like always"

"...me?" His eyes are glassy looking at you in something that looks like hope.

But instead of saying anymore to reassure his low self-esteem just how much you think a he's great guy, you start to cry. And you don't have a clue why. Just that you're so happy he finally knows.

"I really like you too. Like always" and just like in a movie, he reaches out with a finger and gently wipes a tear off your cheek.

#paul dano #danonation #my fic #fanfic #paul dano x reader #danocel #the art of paper folding #brian wilcox x reader #Brian wilcox #fast food nation #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #the riddler

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jankwritten · 3 months

Text

Jasico Bingo Challenge: Boyfriend Sweater

When Nico walks into the dining pavilion wearing a golden yellow sweater, Percy does a double-take. Actually, it’s a triple-take: first, he thought it was a new Apollo kid, then he realized it was Nico, then he realized it was Nico. Wearing a color.

Is the world ending again? Was there something really wrong with the milk in his cereal? What in the everloving Hades was going on?!

Nico sits down at table 13, unbothered as ever, and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie up. It’s way too big on him, like Big Bird shed and some poor fucker decided Nico di Angelo needed the empty muppet skin in his wardrobe.

(Is it Nico? Maybe some changeling creature kidnapped their resident son of Hades and has decided to take his place? Maybe Percy needs to go over there and test him out, y’know, knick him with some iron or something to see if he burns. If it’s an imposter, though, they’re doing a piss-poor job. Is it an intentionally bad job? Gods, it’s barely eight AM on a Tuesday, does he seriously have to go save Nico from somewhere and kill a monster wearing his face? That does not sound like his ideal Tuesday, if he’s really real. He’ll totally do it, but he won’t like it, and maybe he should start planning how to take out a creature like-)

“I can see the mountain you’re building,” Annabeth says, popping Percy’s strangely detailed daydream of hunting down and killing a weird, half-Nico, half-demon gremlin creature. He blinks the image out of his eyes and looks up at her, her hip resting against the edge of his table.

She looks amused. He squints. “Nico’s been bodysnatched.”

“Mm, no,” she says easily, with a shake of her head. “Nico’s wearing a jacket.”

“A yellow jacket.” Percy looks at the son of Hades again. He just- can’t wrap his head around it. He hasn’t seen Nico willingly wear a color since the guy was ten years old. “A yellow jacket that’s, like, twice his size.”

“It’s a molehill, seaweed brain. A jacket’s just a jacket.”

“But it’s yellow.”

“What was your nightmare about?”

Percy physically recoils at the non sequitur, tilting back in his seat incredulously. His- what? His nightmare? What does his nightmare have to do with a jacket, anyway, that’s got nothing to do with this.

He folds his arms on the table and makes a face. “That’s unrelated.”

Annabeth’s mouth raise at the corners, her eyes watching him like an all-knowing hawk. An owl, three-sixty vision and nothing but questions, who, who?

She pets through his hair and pushes her weight back up. As she draws her hand back, she taps his cheek, then his chin, and says, “just leave him alone, then.”

Percy watches her walk back to her table. When she sits, he buries his face in his arms and groans.

“Jason has also been bodysnatched,” Percy hisses to Annabeth during pottery class.

“What makes you say that.” She throws her lump of clay at the pedestal in front of her and gives Percy the same look she gave him this morning.

Percy decides to ignore that look, because that is the look of reason and he is far beyond that now. “He was wearing this black jacket with, like, skulls in hourglasses and weird skeleton butterflies and shit during Latin.”

“He is related to Thalia, you know,” Annabeth hums. She wets her hands as the plate before her starts to spin. “Maybe he’s going through the family goth phase.”

Had she not just leaned in to start forming something magical and incredible out of clay, Percy would slouch over Annabeth’s shoulders and plead with her to at least consider that something weird is going on. Maybe it’s not bodysnatchers or changelings, okay, but something is strange! Jason Grace does not just decide to wear emo shit! Jason Grace once had a panic attack because the Aphrodite Cabin stole a pair of his jeans and cut them into shorts! This is a man who has a stricter sense of style than Nico, who, fucking hell, don’t even get Percy started on that. The yellow jacket has remained on all day and it’s haunting him.

Annabeth dips her thumbs into the top of her clay and does not respond.

Percy slumps down into the stool beside hers and huffs, more for himself than anything.

Change is okay. Change is fine. But change like this, with no reason, is the opposite of fine. Change like this is a low-blow stink bomb in an otherwise perfect Capture the Flag game, impossible to get out of his clothes and his skin and his hair. Change like this is how people die.

He claws his hands up into his hair and listens to the steady whir of the pottery wheel, the sound of wet clay being molded and shaped in different ways. There’s a lull of conversation from other campers in the class, kids from all different cabins, because to them this is any other day.

Maybe this should be any other day to him, too. No, not maybe. It should be. This should be a regular Tuesday, full of regular classes with his regular friends who are ordinary in whatever ways they can be, but instead, Percy’s brain has to go and mix up everything, make everything feel- out of control.

HIs next exhale shakes too hard for his liking. His shoulders are too tense.

Beside him, Annabeth keeps calmly shaping her pot. She dips her hands into the water every so often, probably executing some flawless plan of action she drafted the night before. She’s not always delicate with her hands, with art like this - Percy knows that’s something she’s self conscious about. She never thinks she can be good at finer things.

That’s normal. That’s normal for her. Ordinary, to think that Annabeth Chase would tackle arts and crafts in the same way she would a war strategy, devising the perfect approach for a flawless result. Executing it flawlessly.

She pinches too hard pulling up the walls of the pot. It crumples, then swings off the wheel entirely with the force of it’s motion, splattering wetly across Percy’s arms and the other campers at the bench.

Percy watches Annabeth glare at her failed creation. She sticks her hands in the dirty water to scrub the clay off, wipes her hands off on her shirt, and pulls on Percy’s sleeve.

“I hate pottery,” she mutters as they rise together.

Percy grins. “I think it knows that,” he teases, and follows as she stomps toward the exit.

When the answer slaps Percy in the face, it feels more like a gut punch in the way it makes him breathless and off-balance.

“You’re…huh?”

Annabeth clicks her tongue. “You two couldn’t think of a better way to do this?” she gestures between Nico and Jason, standing awkwardly side by side as if they don’t know what to do with themselves.

They’re still wearing the wrong jackets. Each other’s jackets.

Percy makes a face, then realizes that might not be the best response to his two friends telling him their dating, so he tries to make a different face.

The world’s not ending. They’re just…together. Sharing jackets, like couples do.

“We didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Jason says. He keeps glancing at Nico and chewing on the inside of his lip. Nico, with the golden sleeves of apparently-Jason’s-jacket pulled over his hands once more, looks stubborn. Like he’s ready to fight about something.

Percy wipes his sweaty hands off on his shirt and gestures, though he’s not sure at what. “But Nico’s wearing a color?”

He feels more than sees Annabeth’s disapproving glare at the side of his head. Jason draws himself up, then seems to falter. His head cocks to the side and he shakes his head.

“What?”

“That’s a big deal,” Percy reiterates. “Nico doesn’t wear colors.”

“Nico is standing right here, wearing a color,” Nico grumbles. He shoves his hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt and gives Percy a glare that is far more familiar than literally anything else happening right now. “I’m allowed to wear whatever I want to wear, for the record.”

“But you don’t!”

“Well I do now. If you have a fucking problem with it-”

“I never said I had a problem with it,” Percy snaps back, immediately on the defensive. “I was fucking worried about you, you little shit, I thought something was wrong. I thought- I don’t know what I thought! I thought you two were swapped with some other versions of yourself, I thought you’d been- I don’t know- abducted by aliens, or fairies, or something!” He throws his hands up in the air, then drops them back onto his head, staring sort of at the middle point between the two of them. “You can’t do that shit and not expect- I mean, because, come on, guys, you’re you, you two fucking freak out if someone so much as touches your clothes. What were we supposed to think?”

The hearth crackles. It’s too pleasant a sound for the sick Percy feels.

Annabeth takes his hand, at least, and squeezes. His face burns with the shame of yelling like this, over this, it just feels so fucking stupid all of a sudden. He feels so stupid. Annabeth tried to tell him it was nothing, and he let it all get away with him, he let that nasty part of his brain win and win and win, and now he’s taking his losses out on them.

“I’m happy for you two,” he makes himself say, when no one else speaks. “I think I just also need therapy.”

Finally, Annabeth snorts. It’s a noise Percy knows, one he can ground himself with, same as her palm hot in his, her weight tilting into his side as her head bonks into his chin.

The stress he’d held bundled up in his spine and his shoulders and his stomach all day releases in an instant. He slouches back in against her and laughs against the top of her head.

“Jesus Christ,” Nico mutters, when Percy can’t stop himself, dissolving into a fit of hysterics over his own bullshit. “This is why I said we should just tell them. He’s laughing at us.”

“I think he’s laughing at himself,” Jason says. He sounds uncertain.

Percy hugs Annabeth tight, and laughs himself hoarse.

EXTRA

Nico stares at himself in Jason’s mirror, with the sweater hanging halfway down his thighs, sleeves hanging off his hands, the peak of his collarbone through the freaking collar. He narrows his gaze into a glare.

“I look like a toddler,” he says derisively.

Jason, still getting dressed himself, laughs. When he appears in the mirror behind Nico, looking far more proportional in Nico’s sweatshirt (which is frankly fucking unfair), his grin softens into a smile that’s- something. Sweet.

Nico twitches his nose.

“I look like I’m six years old,” he says, grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt and yanking down. “Why are we doing this.”

“‘Cause it’s silly,” Jason says. He presses a kiss against the side of Nico’s head and hugs him loosely from behind. “You don’t look like a baby, either. You just look your age.”

Nico looks down at himself. Maybe there’s a point there, a point to be made about how he dresses for practicality, dresses to blend in, but never to express himself. Maybe there’s a point to be made about how his discomfort isn’t really for how he feels about this, but how he thinks others will feel about it.

He tugs at the hem again, and looks back up. Jason’s eyes in the mirror are bright, as if taking in the sight of Nico in his hoodie like this is something to savor.

Nico likes when Jason looks at him like that. He likes how it feels to be looked at like he’s attractive. He likes how it feels to be wanted.

“I guess,” Nico concedes, leaning further back into Jason’s chest. Immediately, Jason’s stance is more solid, sturdy, holding them both up as easy as breathing. He holds Nico like it’s a promise that he’ll never let go.

He looks at the pair of them in the mirror, a cohesive unit rather than two separate halves. Jason in black is definitely something Nico wants to see more of, especially with the way Nico’s clothes fit snug over him, just a little tight at the biceps and chest. He looks good, not that he doesn’t look good otherwise. Different.

With Nico his contrast in yellow…maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe he likes being the counterbalance, even.

Jason squeezes him again. Those damn eyes in the mirror are making Nico too warm, like his stomach is full of hot jell-o.

“Okay, fine, let’s do this,” he huffs. The difference in his tone must be audible, though, because Jason perks up and grins, his eyebrows up, face aglow. Nico can’t look at him for too long. It’s still strange knowing he can make someone feel like that. He doesn’t know what to do when Jason turns the full puppy-love thing on. “And stop looking at me like that, you’re going to give me cavities.”

“Okay,” Jason says in a voice identical to his expression.

Nico grabs his hand and squeezes it twice.

Jason squeezes back, so tight it aches. Nico’s heart swells with bright affection.

Alright. Maybe yellow isn’t so bad, actually.

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #boyfriend sweater #fanfiction #okay so this is mostly actually about Percy and Annabeth BUT BUT BUT. it's the Jasico that matters.#Jasico is the heart of it the crux of it.#so it still counts #I think Percy has a lot of trouble dealing with things that he doesn't perceive as normal from his friends #I think the switch really fucked with him in that regard #He feels like if all of a sudden the people he knows aren't doing the things he knows them to do then maybe he's losing his memory again #maybe something fucked up has happened and he hasn't realized it yet #maybe nico wearing yellow signifies he's grieving because the last time Nico's style drastically changed overnight was when his sister died #i think percy is also WAY too attuned to Nico in general when it comes to his own mental health #I think he immediately jumps the gun on ANYTHING NIco is involved with (hence him immediately arguing when Nico assumes wrong)#I think he and Nico have a fucked up weird friendship where they both hate that they need to know each other the way they do #idk. Annabeth and Jason are holding Percy and Nico's leashes while letting them meet in the most controlled of dog parks #Percy bites first but Nico bites harder kinda deal #ANYWAY #pjo #jason grace #nico di angelo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jasico #percabeth #hoo

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altraviolet · 3 months

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I have to ask while I’m not at my shyest—

How are you able to achieve writing the more dramatic scenes without making it seem too dragged out to sound unnatural? Like each scene, no matter how small, has its own unique depth that’s so comprehensible, and flows so nicely with every other connecting paragraph.

I remember having trouble trying to give characters their own downtime scenes, because whenever I read them out loud they sound too rushed. But if I use too many big words it doesn’t sound… natural anymore…

If that makes sense?

Do you just drag out the situation with “fancy” and long words, or is there a more thought out system I’m not experienced enough to know about yet?

This is an interesting question! Thanks for asking :D

>But if I use too many big words it doesn’t sound… natural anymore…

Yup yup, correct. You don't ever want to use big fancy long words to drag out a scene. In fact, your goal should never be to drag out a scene. The scene should be exactly as long as it needs to be. What does that mean, exactly? It means your scene should impart all the information it needs to impart while still feeling complete, but without feeling like it's dragging.

Quick example: you have a scene where two characters need to talk to each other. The goal of the scene is for one character to tell the other some important information. The way they arrive and depart from the location of the scene isn't important. The convo is the most important thing.

It would be very easy to write this scene and have it be too short. As in, literally too short to even make sense. But I'm wondering if what you're actually asking about is a term called "underwritten." An underwritten scene, in this example, would feature two characters who speak lines at each other, and you have no idea where they are, what they're feeling, or what's going on around them. In contrast, an overwritten scene, in this example, would have the characters' conversation go on for way too long. They would talk about all kinds of unimportant things. There would be all kinds of unnecessary description about the table they're sitting at, and what the room smells like, and what each character is wearing, and what the music in the background sounds like.

A properly paced and written scene will have the necessary information (the point for the scene to exist) and an appropriate amount of description (to ground the reader in the location so they know what's going on).

If you have an underwritten scene, you need to add some details. But you don't want to just start throwing long words in there. You have to add details that make sense. Bonus if the details serve more than one purpose. So, for example, say you have 2 characters sitting at a table. There is a tablecloth. If one of the characters is nervous, you can have them folding the edge of the tablecloth nervously. This tells the reader that 1) there is a table with a tablecloth, and 2) the character is nervous. You can do that with many details. If the character hears background music, you can note whether they find it annoying or pleasing, or if it reminds them of something relevant to the conversation. The important thing here is to pick details that add to the scene. They should tell us something about the characters' thoughts or moods or intentions. Yes, of course, you will need some details that purely describe the location... but what if you described the location from the character's point of view? What do they notice? Telling the reader what the location looks like through the characters's eyes is wayyyy more powerful and interesting than just stating plain facts.

Here's an example of the reader looking at the location of a scene through Tailgate's eyes:

Tailgate tried very, very hard to ignore the angry, black monster hunched on the end of the couch. He tried very hard not to see its weird, smooth biolights that slowly shifted from blue to purple and didn't have any white dots like a normal mech's. Tailgate tried very hard not to hear its hissing laughter, when it deigned to laugh. If that was laugher. Was that laughter?

In this paragraph the reader learns:

that Tailgate is heckin' afraid right now

how he views Soundwave (as a monster)

the fact that he can't stop looking at SW (giving the reader details about SW's biolights means Tailgate has been looking at them)

Tailgate isn't sure if SW's laughter is laughter. that's how alien/scary SW is to him

Tailgate is giving us a point of view we don't see often: how SW looks to others. This paragraph is written very differently than most of the rest of the fic because we are seeing through Tailgate's point of view.

One thing you can do to help lackluster scenes is give them more than one reason to exist. For ease of example, I'm gonna give out some names here. Alice and Marina need to have a conversation. That is the point of the scene. But if Marina notices Alice looks sickly, then the scene is serving two purposes. You don't need to have 2 tiny scenes of "Alice and Marina talk" and then later "Marine finds out Alice is sick." Both things happen in the same scene. You can have multiple things happen in the same scene, and this helps to fill out the scene and keep it interesting. Note- I'd recommend it be many small things happening, not many big things (though that can be appropriate sometimes).

Here is an example of the very beginning of a chapter from Echo Garden, where the point of view is firmly rooted in a character and the reader learns many small things:

Even though Brainstorm had given him ample time to prepare for a laboratory invasion, Perceptor was still put off by it. He swiveled his lab table around and rearranged the holo screens away from any prying eyes. Beyond the transparent graphs and equations, the alt-dimensioners sank into their seats.

In 3 sentences the reader learns:

point of view character: Perceptor

location of the scene? in the lab he shares with Brainstorm

what is Perceptor doing? Perceptor is working on something.

how does Perceptor feel right now? annoyed. and he's concerned about people looking at his work. he moves his table and rearranges his holo screens "away from prying eyes"

other relevant details? the alt-dimensioners are also there: when they are mentioned later in the scene, it won't feel sudden/surprising. in fact, the reader probably feels that they'll be an important part of the scene. the reader feels this way because they've been mentioned in the first paragraph with the POV character

That one paragraph did so many things! And the introduction to the scene continues along a few more paragraphs, which ground the reader deeper into Perceptor's point of view. None of the details in the scene feel unnecessary and no big words were needed.

So, with all that in mind, you've asked me how I construct a scene so that it feels like it's the proper length. This is generally what I do:

-identify which characters need to be in this scene

-identify why they need to be in this scene

-identify the location

-is how they got there important? if so, write that in. is how they leave that location important? if so, write that in. if not, just start the scene as soon as possible to the action it contains

-if possible, have the scene have multiple purposes. a convo happens, a deep dive into emotion happens, decisions are made, plans are made

-when editing, reread and see how it sounds. if the detailing is sparse, throw a little bit in (not too much). if the location is confusing, put some grounding details in there. if some of the dialog is confusing, smooth it out

-make sure the scene makes sense from beginning to end. characters don't make nonsensical leaps of logic in conversations. characters don't move in unnatural or impossible ways through the location.

-make sure the scene contains all the info I need it to contain

-edit a whole bunch more

Whether you're writing a dramatic scene or a downtime scene, the theory is the same: you need to make sure all the necessary details are there and that everything makes sense. The writing process is not different between the two. For me, what's different is the emotional intensity I feel on the inside while writing, and the abstract thinking that I do while fleshing out the scene. It's a lot easier on the mind to write downtime things than dramatic things xD

Here are some videos you can check out =)

Alex Donne explains what underwriting is and how to help fix it. This is explained in the context of writing a novel, but you can adapt everything to fic:

youtube

Quotidian also has a video about underwriting (and overwriting):

youtube

If you're underwriting, you need to add in more details. This video, also by Quotidian, is absolutely amazing at teaching what kind of details to add:

youtube

I highly recommend both of those youtube channels! Check 'em out :D

Hope that helps! Best of luck writing your scenes. You got this 👍😎

#sphnyspinspin #scenes #writing advice #long post #very long post #underwriting #details

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quinloki · 1 year

Note

How would Kid, Marco, and Zoro like a role play kink? Specifically some sort of Captured marine and big bad pirate character play? Could you also do primal play and femdom too? Please and thank you! I like this prompt a lot!

Oh man, if you want some Really Good Captured Marine and Kid vibes you need to go read The Captive by @abysscronica I can promise you won't be disappointed (It's a series too - book 1 and 2 are done and I believe 3 is ongoing.)

That said, I'll certainly give my two cents on the idea as a Role Play session \o/

Let's do this... hm, I think by kink.

Primal Play is kind of a hunter/hunted vibe. It's the dom/sub dynamic often without explicitly written or verbalized parameters.

Captured Marine / Big Bad Pirate RP:

Kid - FUCK Yes - Kid loves role-play - well, most of it. Some of it. There's a love/hate situation going on with it, he's either going to be all in for an idea, or just plain not keen on it. The more extreme the role dynamics the better, and he loves playing the bad guy. You tease him that it's almost like he thinks he needs the practice, and he probably does. He's no saint for sure, but he's not nearly the monster the Marines would have you believe.

But those teasing remarks fade away, when you get into the rough and tumble of the scene. He plays the villain well, and you find yourself feeling more and more defiant the better he plays his part. It actually gets a little bloody, but neither of you call it, the next morning though you're listening to Killer read you the riot act cause you cheek swelled up and you needed House to patch some bruises.

Marco - Sure - As long as it's not doctor/nurse he's willing to give it a try. There's emotions deep behind those lazy eyes, and that half lidded gaze, and the zing of it dances through you when he levels a truly cold gaze at you. The sound you make, caught between aroused and nervous changes his expression and he dives into it. It's more an emotional battle of wills than anything loud and physical. There's no defying him, no chance of biting back, he folds you like a house of cards and when you wake up the next day you almost half-expect to find yourself shackled to him in your early morning haze.

Zoro - Yes - The Pirate Hunter turned pirate has been in the shoes of a few roles in his short life thus far. He's not inclined to a lot of different roles, but he's certainly willing to fill the role of big bad pirate for the naughty, pardon, haughty marine who wandered into his clutches. Walking a line between Marco and Kid, he plays the role of the villain well, and he does a good job of ignoring your protests and only listening to your safe words as the scene progresses. It's not too much later after your first role-play session that he gifts you a maid outfit while he's wearing a suit.

Primal Play - I feel like, given the variances of this, for simplicity we'll focus on actual hunter/hunted roleplay:

Kid - Oh god you don't even know - Kid's not keen on the idea of "the chase" in terms of chasing you down to woo you or anything like that, but within the concept of a hunt, that's a different story. Kid has no issues getting down and dirty, and the idea of just taking you after tracking you down - the whole predator/prey concept - has him running as hot as his temper. It'll take you a good week of healing afterward, not because of any terrible wounds or anything like that, but just because he will have had his way with you until every muscle in your body was exhausted. You lose track of your orgasms by the end of it, probably lose track of your senses too, the entire thing likely to plunge you into subspace.

Marco - Yes - He's willing to give it a try, and he certainly ends up liking it. All he needs to track is you, and your safe word. Marco doesn't have Kid's particular brand of "kindness", he searches for you in the skies after giving you a decent head start.

It ends up becoming a game of cat and mouse - or more appropriately maybe Owl and Mouse, since Marco can fly. By the time you're caught you're both breathing heavy, sweat and thundering hearts, but Marco's eyes are open and wide, full of light and fire and while it's not something you do often, it is a game you repeat.

Zoro - Sure - Zoro tends to hold back in this. The hunter/hunted thing is good by him within a certain set of parameters, but the open setting of primal play is a little too unstructured for his tastes. It's too close to real, or combat, and he internally worries about keeping himself in check. He has a lot of control, and a lot of skill, so it's mostly an unfounded concern, but he knows how easily he could accidentally hurt you. So he holds back a bit, and doesn't quite get into it.

Maybe with time, he'll change his tune.

Femdom:

Kid - FUCK Yes - Oh I hope you don't think you're actually going to dominate him? This is role play sweetheart, and the closest you're going to get is trying to top him. He's going to be a complete brat through it, but he won't pull any of his dom cards for this. He's enjoying himself entirely too much. Let's see what you can do, let's see if you can actually bend him to your will?

Chances are it's going to turn into him power bottoming you more than anything else, but he loves the outfit and the little bit of reversal. With practice maybe one day you will manage to tame him, but he won't make it easy. And he will, at least, enjoy every minute of it.

Marco - Oh god you don't even know - He's not exactly a switch, but he's not not a switch either. Marco is delighted by the idea of you dominating him. The point is mutual enjoyment by the end of things, whatever the details of those things are, and if you want to guide him and boss him around, he's here for it. He's not a masochist (not that you could hurt the phoenix anyway), but you can imagine the sly smirk on his face if you're a little rough with him.

Marco doesn't seem like the kind of guy who pays you back at a later date, but surprises are surprises because you don't expect them.

Zoro - Yes - I think I've said before, but Zoro always strikes me as someone who is untested in sex until he meets you, so sure - if you want to teach him the ways of dominating by example, then please do so. He's a good student, after all, and it's only proper that the student eventually surpasses their teacher.

And if the role of who surpasses who happens to trade back and forth a few times? Well, who's he to complain? The best way to learn is by doing, and he has the stamina and focus to keep going.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #eustass kid #marco the phoenix #roronoa zoro #x reader #marco x reader #eustass kid x reader #zoro x reader

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lightwoodbanethings · 1 year

Text

All Seeing Eyes

Also on AO3

The final bit to my re-write of the Murray/Jancy scenes from season 2, but making it Steddie!

Warning: internalised homophobia from Stevie boy! (also much more swearing!)

Eddie told Steve he could take the guest bed as he’d slept on many sofas and pull outs through his lifetime. Both boys gave each other a curt nod and went their separate ways, getting ready to go to sleep for the night. Steve had brought a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in when sharing the motel room with Eddie, however he normally just slept in his boxers. He figured since Eddie wasn’t in the room he might as well leave the t-shirt, still opting to wear the shorts as he felt odd wearing only his underwear in someone else's home.

He sat down on the bed with a bounce, it was a very springy mattress. He took in his surroundings, the room was cluttered like the rest of the house and there was a big bookshelf filled with rows of books. Steve kept finding himself looking towards the door, thinking about the fact that Eddie was on the other side of it. He couldn’t get Murray’s comments out of his head, he barely knew the pair but why did Steve feel like everything Murray had said about him was right? Eerily spot on in fact.

Of course he knew he’d looked at other boys in a way that most didn’t, in a way that wasn’t deemed ‘normal’ by a lot of people (his parents included). But he did like girls, that wasn’t a lie. In fact he used to love a girl, Miss Nancy Wheeler. He’d briefly spoken to Robin about his interest in other boys and how he always figured he’d just stick to girls because it was easier, made more sense to those around him. Robin of course said it was bullshit, that his feelings were valid and he shouldn’t do something just to please others. Steve knew she was right, but it still didn’t stop the tight feeling in his chest and the voice in his head telling him it was wrong.

He had pretty much been able to ignore the whole situation until Eddie came along. Loud, obnoxious, funny, charming and ridiculously hot Eddie. He was so affectionate with Steve and constantly flirted with him, but Steve just figured that was how he was and he wasn’t anything special. But Murray’s words had him thinking, if he was right about Steve….was he right about Eddie?

Steve shook his head and leant forward, holding his head in his hands and sighing. He wouldn’t let himself go down that road. There was no point thinking about what ifs, he couldn’t risk ruining his friendship with Eddie because this strange man who lives in the middle of nowhere has a hunch. He finally pulled the duvet back and got into bed, wrapping himself up and trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress.

“Scared…” Steve muttered to himself, still thinking about Murray’s earlier words.

With a sigh he closes his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep.

Meanwhile Eddie is sat crossed legged, arms folded, on top of the blanket on the pull out bed. He finds himself staring at the obnoxiously yellow flower print on his pillows, brows furrowed.

“Trust issues” he mumbles to himself, fixated on Murrays earlier comments about his daddy issues.

The guy knows nothing about his life or fucked up family, I mean yeah Eddie probably has some trust issues as a result of his shitty parents. But since living with Wayne, he likes to think he’s come a long way with dealing with all that baggage.

Eddie lets his shoulders drop and lets out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding in. He looks over to the room where Steve is probably curled up fast asleep. His face relaxes as he thinks about the badass boy who he would have never gotten to know if it wasn’t for all this crazy saving the world shit. The guy who he thought was a complete asshole, who actually turned out to be super metal.

The ‘ladies man’ of Hawkins, the one all the chicks dig. Fuck. Eddie really needed to get over this ridiculous crush. Maybe he should just own up to it? Tell Steve how he feels, let him reject him and move on? After Murray’s observations, now is probably as good a time as any.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, then stands up. Heading for the guest room where Steve is, but he only gets half way there before the door opens and out comes Steve in nothing but a pair of old gym shorts. Fuck….what was Eddie supposed to be doing again?

They both stop dead in their tracks, staring at each other. Eddie can’t help himself roam his eyes over Steve’s chest and abs. His body is perfectly toned, slightly tanned, and Jesus Christ the chest hair. Eddie is pretty sure he has stopped breathing. Steve doesn’t notice that Eddie’s blatantly obviously checking him out because his brain is too busy buffering. How can someone make a ratty t-shirt, that’s full of holes and well worn, and some baggy pajama bottoms look good? As Steve trails his eyes back up to Eddie’s face, he also notices the boy's hair is more wild than normal and damn if that doesn’t just make things worse.

“Oh, hey..” Steve somehow manages to get out, though his mouth feels oddly dry.

Eddie snaps out of his trance, arms swaying awkwardly at his sides, “hey…”

They start to walk closer together, Eddie’s arms bouncing and swaying around as he suddenly feels like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Steve fiddles with the top of his gym shorts and clears his throat.

“I just wanted to say….say um…”

Oh shit, Eddie can already sense where this is going. Time to abort mission.

“Oh yeah, he’s totally drunk dude”, Eddie gestures with his hand before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wasted” Steve replies, letting his hands drop down by his sides and letting out a small laugh. So they’re going to brush off Murray’s comments, that’s fine. Steve can definitely do that.

“I mean yeah, he’s only known us for a couple of hours and all of a sudden he thinks he’s got us figured out” Eddie smiles wide and rocks back onto the balls of his feet. This might not be the way Eddie wanted this to go, but he can adapt.

“Yeah, right” Steve finds himself nodding along, “I’m glad we feel the same way.”

A voice in the back of both of their minds calling bullshit.

The boys nod to each other, smiling then looking around awkwardly as the conversation tapers off.

“So…goodnight then I guess” Steve says as he begins to back away towards the guest room.

“Yeah…night..” Eddie also begins to back away, not looking where he’s going as he keeps his eyes on Steve, and walks straight into a speaker and television behind him. He lets out a surprised squeal and quickly regains his balance.

Steve laughs at him before giving him a small wave and turning around, “night Eds.”

Eddie flops back into bed, smushing his face into his pillows and letting out a frustrated sigh. It wasn’t exactly what he had planned to do but Steve seemed so insistent that Murray was wrong and it made sense. Why would Steve even think about the possibility of them together, it wasn’t a possibility for him.

Steve closes his door behind him and also drops back into bed, he lays there staring at the ceiling and telling himself he should feel better now. They’ve spoken about it and are both on the same page, everything is fine.

Yet he can’t help feeling like it isn’t. He sits up and grabs his pillow and pulls it tight into his chest. He once again finds himself staring at the door. This doesn’t feel right, as much as he wants to push the feelings away he does want Eddie in this bed with him. Even just sharing a room with Eddie offers him comfort, knowing he’s there.

Steve throws his pillow back onto the bed and jumps up, heading straight for his door. Fuck this and fuck what other people deem to be ‘right and wrong’. As Steve gets to the door, he grabs the handle and pulls it open with force. As he’s about to walk through the doorway he runs directly into Eddie.

Both boys pull back, looking equally as surprised. Before Steve knows what is happening Eddie is kissing him. It’s quick and brief, Eddie pulling back and searching Steve’s face. All Steve can think is that he wants more.

Steve grabs both sides of Eddie’s face and pulls him back into the kiss, he practically feels Eddie melt underneath him. The fear and stress disappearing from both of them.

The kiss is frantic, like they’re both starved and have been waiting for this all their lives. Eddie is pushing back into Steve just as much as he’s pushing into him. Steve feels Eddie grab his waist, the fingers rubbing over the bare skin and sending shivers down his spine. Steve moves his hand into Eddie’s wild mane, grabbing and tugging as Eddie lets out a low moan into Steve’s mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve and tries to pull him impossibly closer, tightening his hold on him. They begin to step back into the guest room, Steve pushing the door shut behind them before they fall back onto the bed.

*******

The following morning both boys sit at the table whilst Murray is in the kitchen plating up their breakfasts. He’s still wearing the same dirty robe from the day before but appears to be wearing what looks like striped pajamas underneath them.

Steve takes a sip of his orange juice as he glances at Eddie and then back towards the table. Both of them had gotten up and dressed before Murray had come downstairs, it was an unspoken decision that they didn’t want him to know about last night. Mostly because they didn’t want to see his smug expression about being right.

Murray brings over two plates and puts them down in front of the pair, before going back to grab his own. He finally sits down at the table with a heavy sigh and immediately digs into his breakfast.

Eddie gives Murray a small nod, as if to say thank you, and begins eating his breakfast whilst Steve pushes around the scrambled eggs on his plate. There’s an awkward silence, filled only by more jazz music, whilst they all begin to tuck into their breakfast.

Murray begins to fiddle with his fork, looking at it almost like he’s inspecting it before looking at both of the boys in front of him. A small smile creeps onto his face and he turns to look at Eddie, just as the young man is taking a sip of his drink.

“So, Eddie….how was the pull out?”

Eddie almost chokes on his orange juice, before clearing his throat and quickly looking towards Steve who looks equally as surprised before turning his attention towards Murray.

“Um…sorry?” he puts his glass down and watches the cocky expression on Murray's face.

“The sofa” Murray replies, so matter of fact.

“Oh…yeah…yeah it was good” Eddie stumbles to get his words out, fidgeting awkwardly in his chair.

Steve smirks to himself, trying to hold back laughter as he tries to focus on his eggs. Murray takes a fork full of eggs and raises it to his mouth.

“I bet” he says towards the metal head, with a huge smirk before reaching to take a bite off his fork. The egg falls off, rolling off the table and onto the floor. Murray just laughs, still looking towards Eddie.

“Ooops.”

#steddie #stranger things #st4 #st2 #murray bauman #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #fic #ao3

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fixfoxnox · 1 year

Note

I was the one who asked for the reverse au and ASGDHDOEJSUCJ

Amazing. Brilliant. Showstopping

Villain Roach making me act UP, if you don't mind writing another drabble of it, please do. Roach was perfect and Makarov is so strong, if I were him I would've folded at the tounge move

Thank you again (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠)

Okay its finished you may read it now, I apologize for posting early i am too clumsy apparently

Anon you are iconic for coming up with the idea, we adore you and ultranationalist Roach will be making many more appearances here! Here is another drabble for you my friend

Warnings: Dub-con, threats, little bit of knife play, some minor nsfw

Makarov felt like he was being tested. This entire thing had to be some elaborate test or scheme from Sanderson. It just had to be. There was no way that the man had actually left him alone, in a house, with a working computer and phone.

He stared at them carefully, his hand itching to reach out and grab one. He could just call his teammates, they could get a track on him, they'd have the place surrounded in hours. But it was too easy. Because surely, surely, a man who had gone through whatever great lengths to kidnap him, wouldn't leave him alone, in a house, with a working phone and computer. It just didn't make sense.

Perhaps he was hallucinating? That would certainly explain things. Maybe the previous night had all been a hallucination too. Sanderson, the way he'd kissed his neck, how he'd grinned at him and claimed him as his own before taking his mouth. Perhaps what had followed had been a hallucination too? Being guided up the stairs and led to a room that seemed almost personalized to his tastes. The way Sanderson had pressed up against him with a purr and kissed him again before leaving him by himself. If all of that had truly happened, then why the hell had he woken up in an empty house, alone, with a working phone and computer left out on the counter of the kitchen.

He hesitated for a moment, looking around him to see if there were any visible cameras. This had to be a trap. He stared at the computer and phone for a moment longer. His thoughts raced around his head. He slowly began to reach out for the phone.

"If you're thinking about trying to contact your team, it won't work."

Makarov nearly jumped out of his skin, turning with rising panic in his chest as he met the gaze of the figure that had managed to sneak up on him. It was a man in a wheelchair. He was almost unassuming, but Makarov could see the muscles of his arms and, more threateningly, he could see a gun strapped to his leg. "Who are you?" His eyes narrowed onto the weapon.

"Paul Jackson," the man moved toward him just slightly. Makarov recognized the name, his eyes went wide and his heart picked up speed as he looked the man over in a new light.

"You're-"

"Roach's second in command?" Jackson gave him a smirk, "You're tense, don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you."

Makarov pressed himself back against the counter behind him, "Really?" He scoffed, "Then what are you here for, and why the gun?"

Jackson looked down at his lap, as though he'd forgotten that he was wearing the weapon. "The gun is for protection," he looked back up at him, "Roach wanted me to have it in case you tried to attack me. Don't worry, takedown shots only though."

Makarov tried to ignore the fact that Sanderson didn't want him dead, even if he attacked his second in command. He really didn't want to think about what that meant for him or the way that the knowledge burned pleasantly through his mind. "And the other? Why are you here?"

"Roach wanted me to show you everything, give you a quick rundown," Jackson looked him up and down for a moment, "we'll be seeing more of each other soon, and he wants us to get along at least a bit."

"And," Makarov hesitated for a moment, "Where is Sanderson?"

"Roach," Jackson was quick to correct, "Call him Sanderson and you might actually make him mad. You're a friend, you call him Roach."

Makarov hesitated for a moment, but at the man's warning look he was quick to acquiesce, "Alright, where is Roach?"

Jackson gave him a grin, "He's in some meetings for the day, he'll be back tonight. Now then, I'll show you the ropes." He motioned behind Makarov to the kitchen. "As I'm sure you can tell, this is the kitchen," Makarov gave a small snort at the man's words, "Fully stocked at all times, use whatever you want to, make whatever you want to. If we don't have something, there's a number on the fridge for a local grocer. Just call and tell them what you need and they'll get it for you and have it sent to the house. If its less urgent, you can put it on the list on the fridge," he pointed toward a little notepad stuck with a magnet to the large stainless steel fridge. "If you want something permanently stocked in the kitchen just ask Roach and he'll put it on the list for you." Jackson motioned for him to follow with his hand and Makarov had no choice but to follow the man into one of the back hallways, to a sliding glass door.

"I assume they're here to keep me from leaving?" He raised an eyebrow at the several guards that he could see milling around the property.

"Surely you didn't think Roach was going to just let you stay here unsupervised?" Jackson shot him an unimpressed look. It made Makarov flush, just a bit of anger running through him. He glared at the man, but all it seemed to do was pull a grin from his lips. "There," Jackson pointed to one of the buildings, "Is the personal gym. Connected to it is the indoor pool. The guards will let you go over there, by the way. You can also use the outdoor pool when its warm enough, which," he shrugged, "isn't right now."

"Well I could guess that," Makarov raised an eyebrow at the man, the frost outside the window making it fairly clear that there would be no swimming.

"Just had to say," Jackson turned away, beginning to guide him back into the living area, "I never know with you Russians."

Makarov glared at the back of the man's head again. He had to be doing this to fuck with him. No way he was actually such an asshole. He didn't say that though, instead he just let himself be lead into the living room.

"Every other room on the first floor is entertainment," Jackson stopped, turning his wheelchair to face him. "Games, TV, Internet, books, whatever you could want. If there's something you want that we don't have, just ask Roach and he'll order it for you." He pointed to the TV, "About the internet and phone shit, do yourself a favor and don't try to contact your team. If you do, the system will know and boot you out for a bit." The man turned away from him, beginning toward the front door, "Thats really it. Like I said, Roach will be back later. Have fun."

With that, the man was out the front door, leaving Makarov by himself in an unfamiliar home, apparently just waiting around for a terrorist to come back home. The thought made him want to tug his hair out.

He was sleeping when Roach got back. Laid out on the couch in the living room, his eyes had betrayed him and he'd found himself slipping off into darkness. He was woken up by something, or someone, crawling into his lap and laying their head on his chest.

His eyes flew open when a hand began to rub across his chest teasingly. His face went red as he met the bright grin and wide eyes of Roach, the younger man looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive. It made his heart race faster as much as it made heat creep over his skin.

"Roach," he acknowledged weakly.

Roach only gave a hum, leaning up closer to him teasingly before asking, "You just had to try didn't you?"

Makarov felt his face go red. He knew exactly what Roach was referring to. Nearly every computer and electronic in the house was currently on a countdown. Jackson hadn't been lying when he warned that if Makarov tried to contact his team, he would be booted from the system.

It was frustratingly quick how fast the system had picked up on what he was trying to do. It was almost like a child safety lock, the entire computer going black as a little timer popped up telling him that he would have to wait twenty four hours before being let back into the system.

"Can you blame me," He asked, his face bright red.

Roach gave another hum, burying his face into his neck to begin placing kisses along his throat. "No," he muttered finally. He didn't say anything else, just kept his hands running teasingly over his chest as his mouth worked at his throat.

Makarov was flustered, but he was also terribly surprised. He'd expected for Roach to be enraged with him, to maybe hit him or do something other than just touch him and leave oh so tempting little kisses across his throat. "You," Makarov gasped, feeling Roach grind his lower half against him. It pulled a mischievous grin to the younger man's face and he left a bruising nip just under Makarov's jaw, "You- you're not mad," he finally managed to get out. His voice was absolutely wrecked, sounding high and needy to his own ears. It was frustrating, like his own body was fighting against him.

Roach pulled away from his neck, sitting up to straddle him fully. "Of course I'm not mad. I expected you to do it silly." He grinned at him, "besides, I'm sure being locked out of the system and bored all day was punishment enough. No need for me to do more." He bit his lip, staring down at him with a demure little smile as he ground his hips into him. It was clear to see that any and all innocence he had was fake.

Makarov could say nothing as Roach fixed his hands against his chest and started to slowly, languidly, rock his hips against him. He could feel how hard the other man was against him and, much to his own embarrassment, how hard he was from the attention. He watched as Roach tilted his head back temptingly, little gasps escaping his throat as he rutted against him. It was almost too distracting. Almost.

Makarov had a plan though. He had a plan and he intended to stick by it. He let his hands slowly move, trying not to gain the other man's attention as he slipped one hand into his jacket pocket, searching for the little blade he'd hidden there earlier. To his confusion, his hands met nothing. He tried his other pocket. Nothing.

Suddenly, the rutting against him stopped and there was a snicker from the man above him. "Looking for this?" Makarov watched in horror as Roach twirled the little knife he'd stashed in his pocket between his fingers.

"How did you-" there was a knife against his throat. It didn't press hard, just sat there against his skin. The threat was somehow worse.

"Checked you while you were alseep," Roach leaned down, their noses touching as he pouted at the man, "I figured you try something like this. I'm a little offended," he rolled his hips down again, still achingly hard in his jeans, "I thought we were enjoying ourselves."

"I-"

Roach tutted, cutting him off by pressing the knife closer to his skin. He spoke to him again, his voice dropped into a tone that one would use when encouraging a child who'd just failed at something, "You did such a good job though! It was such a good try, maybe next time baby." Makarov flushed red at the man's mocking tone, his eyes narrowing in anger. Roach seemed to take delight in the fire in his eyes. "Oh, isn't that a fun look to see." He pushed himself back up, removing the knife from Makarov's neck and twirling it in his fingers again. "Apologize, baby. C'mon, say you're sorry."

"Sorry?" Makarov hissed out, "You kidnapped me! You're crazy! I'm not-" Roach wrapped a hand around his throat, the knife pressing threteningly at his cheek. That face that had been fixed into a teasing grin was now hard and cold, watching him, daring him to continue speaking.

"Apologize," Roach said again, his voice almost scarily calm.

Makarov grit his teeth, cool shame running through his system as he bit out, "I'm sorry."

Roach closed his eyes, a small smiled crossing his lips as he tilted his head back. "Again," he ordered with a roll of his hips. Makarov gasped in response.

"I'm sorry."

That grin returned to Roach's face. The knife was removed from his skin and the hand at his throat moved up to stroke along his cheek. Roach leaned down, quickly and excitedly placing kisses all along his face before lunging down to crash their lips together again, his tongue quickly forcing its way into Makaorv's mouth to enthusiastically explore. "What a good boy," Roach muttered against his lips. Makarov tried not to shiver at the words, but with the delighted giggle that pulled from the man above him, he assumed he'd failed.

After a moment, Roach pulled back, "Lets get rid of this thing," he held up the knife, quickly twisting it in his hands before pulling back and throwing it, impaling the little piece of metal into a little dartboard hung on the wall with surprising accuracy. The thing had stuck directly in the center of the board. "Now then," Roach looked down at him, his hands drifting down his chest to slip under the edge of his shirt. He rocked his hips down on him again, pulling a choked out moan from Makarov, "I think you should show me how sorry you really are, don't you think?"

#you asked luke #gary roach sanderson #vladimir makarov #makarov x roach #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 fanfic #cod

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karatekels · 7 months

Text

Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 5

We're almost at the end! I hope you've all enjoyed this series so far!

Previous Parts:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

TW: Bondage, threats, hostage-taking, violence

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Chapter 5 - Pursuit:

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Cash's POV:

The first thing he notices upon waking is that you’re no longer in his arms, where he had left you before falling asleep. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, hasn’t even taken that deep breath that you breathe when you first regain consciousness in the morning, and he knows you’re gone.

He’d been wanting it for years, after all, had fantasized about it as he fell asleep alone after getting himself off, coming into his own fist with a groan of your name. Of course it would be on his mind now that he’d actually, finally had you, but you were gone.

The cuffs should have prevented that, even if his arms around you hadn’t.

Opening his eyes slowly, seeing your half of the bed empty, he rolls onto his back with a groan, tilting his head back to confirm that yes, the cuff was now attached to his own wrist.

He’s only half-surprised to see you next to the foot of the bed, sitting in a chair with your feet kicked up on the mattress.

You’re still only wearing his shirt, the sleeves rolled up and only half of the buttons done up, your hair a tangled mess. He also doesn’t miss the gun – his gun – held loosely in your grip.

You look good.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Cash finds himself unable to refrain from checking you out, eyes roaming across your bare legs, easily making out your nipples through the thin material of his shirt, hard from the morning chill. He thinks he can spot a couple of love bites on your throat and along your collarbone that aren’t concealed by the shirt. You’re also surveying him with a cold stare, nibbling your bottom lip as you think.

He finds himself getting hard, and kicks the blanket off of him, exposing himself fully to your stare, folding his free hand behind his head to serve as a pillow as he looks back at you unflinchingly. Your eyes never leave his, but he watches an appealing blush spread across your face and down your neck at his nakedness.

“Morning, sunshine,” he purrs, giving you a cheeky grin. Maybe he can talk you into banging one more time before you put a bullet in his skull. Your lips press into a thin line.

“I want answers,” you say bluntly, rudely ignoring his morning greeting. Cash isn’t deterred.

“Yes Y/N, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” he admits unabashedly, before you even ask a question. “But I told you that last night. Now c’mon, untie me and let’s go another round!” he cajoles, watching your flush deepen with a great sense of pleasure. He still couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten to be with you last night, that you wanted him the same way, and had for ages…

Fate was a cruel mistress.

“Don’t be an ass, Cash,” you snap at him, trying to get your own agenda back on track.

He pretends to look around the room as if pointedly ignoring you, looking for anything that either of you could use against one another. In addition to the gun clutched in your hand, he can see his cellphone on the dresser that sat along the wall beside the door. He hadn’t put it there, which meant that you likely had. He wonders who you’ve contacted; It posed a problem. He tests the limits of the cuffs, feeling confident that he could snap them, but there would be no point while you were still armed. He would need to wait for an opportunity.

“Can’t we multitask?” he asks hopefully. He can see you gnash your teeth in response.

“Are there any officers involved in your little scheme other than you, Glen, and Ray?” you ask, doing your best to ignore his proposition.

“No.” He’s being honest, not only because you could probably detect a lie but because telling you the truth was likely the easiest way to get you to let your guard down. Fuck, he really didn’t want to kill you; part of him hopes you’ll get him first.

“How long have you been… doing things like this?” you press, struggling to even ask the question. Your disappointment in him stings, it really does.

“This is the first. We’ve been planning for a month or so.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You expect me to believe that I’ve just happened to catch you in the act before you’ve really done anything?”

“Shouldn’t you catching me in the act so easily support the fact that I’ve got no experience doing this sort of thing?” he replies, arching an eyebrow at you.

“So why did you?!” you exclaim, frustration and pain evident in your voice. He debates how much to tell you, before settling on all of it. He slides up the bed, leaning back against a pillow pressed against the rails of the headboard, one knee bent and the other straight, one arm uselessly attached to the head of the bedframe. He locks eyes with you before answering, wanting to be able to detect every nuance in your expression as he finally gave you the truth.

“I did everything by the book for years, Y/N. I’ve been on the force almost as long as you’ve been alive. I did everything right, always.” Looking back, he’d probably been as uptight as you were, at least in the beginning.

“When I got suspended, it was the first time I’d ever received any form of discipline in my entire career. If it had stopped there, I… I probably would’ve been fine. I know that it was wrong of me to pulverize that guy,” he pauses, starting to see red as he did any time he thought about that day. He had almost been too late…

“I wasn’t thinking in the moment, I was just so angry… I wanted that fucker in agony until his dying breath, and then some…” he takes a deep breath, trying to refocus. “They were right to suspend me. But then Levinson told me that I couldn’t work with you anymore, that I couldn’t even tell you anything, that I needed to stay away from you…” he seethes, thinking back to how he had coped with that bit of news during his suspension: drinking himself into a stupor and waking up every morning with a new room of his house completely destroyed.

“I lost all my respect for the department that day. More than twenty years of service, a spotless record, but one bad judgement call and they were determined to keep me from… the one thing I really wanted.”

He runs his free hand through his short hair, trying to maintain his composure, but seeing the pain in your eyes as you watch him struggle through the explanation nearly has him losing it.

“Everything stopped being black and white to me that day. I couldn’t just mindlessly follow the rules, upholding a system that had fucked me over so completely. When Glen came to me with the idea to make some money selling drugs we’d already seized, it was… it was like an opportunity to fuck over Levinson and everyone else that wanted to keep me away from you. And so I agreed to work with him. I had nothing left to lose.”

There’s a prolonged silence between you as you digest this information. You’ve set his gun down, your hand trembling, your head in your hands. He debates taking the opportunity to break free, though he’s not sure if he’ll move for the gun or you first. His arms ache to hold you.

“Bet you really regret saving my life, huh?” you joke, barking out a humourless laugh through your tears, and his heart stops beating, clenching tightly at the very thought.

“Not for a second,” he hisses intensely, the venom in his voice making you look up at him. If he thought he had any chance of convincing you to just run away with him, leaving everything behind, he would. But you wouldn’t.

His response has lost him the element of surprise, your focus back on him, so he pivots, trying for something else.

“I’ve been honest with you. Will you do the same for me?” he asks you, despite already knowing the answer. You always gave as good as you got, both the good and the bad – you would answer his questions, he was certain of it. Sure enough, you nod at him, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. You still haven’t picked up the gun.

“Was last night all bullshit? Just a means to an end?” He fights to keep his tone and expression nonchalant.

“No,” you respond immediately, the amount of passion you manage to convey with that one word astounding him. “No, Cash, it wasn’t. I had feelings for you, and I wanted you. I just… I couldn’t not take the opportunity to take the key when I saw it. But if that hadn’t been in the cards, and you had just killed me in my sleep last night, that’s… it wouldn’t have changed last night, for me at least. I’m glad it happened, even like this.”

He’s not sure why he asked; maybe if you had said you had just played him, it would’ve made it easier to kill you. But no, of course you hadn’t. You were you, and for all your obnoxiousness and nagging you had always been an unwaveringly honest, ethical woman. You had made him want to be better, right from the moment he’d started working with you, after all.

He sighs deeply, collecting himself.

“So, when’s your backup arriving?”

You blink at him, startled.

“What?” you ask, looking horribly guilty, and he just looks at you with exasperation. You could never make it as a criminal.

He points his chin in the direction of his phone on the dresser, and you follow his gaze. He can practically hear you cursing yourself in your head for leaving it within his eyesight.

“Probably ten minutes,” you answer quietly, still looking at the phone, your head and body turned away from him. He twists his hand, gripping the cuff to protect his wrist before pulling it suddenly with all his might, snapping the chain of the cuffs against the bedpost. They break down the middle, one cuff now dangling uselessly from his wrist. You turn, jumping at the noise, but he’s already lunging towards you, snatching his gun back and knocking you off of the chair, sending you sprawling to the ground.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says by way of apology, looming over you. Even now, he finds himself admiring you in his shirt. If only things could be different…

“You son of a bitch!” you screech at him, rolling away before getting back to your feet. “I trusted you, Cash!”

“No you didn’t,” he fires back, all cockiness once more. Keeping one eye on you, he moves around the room, collecting his clothes. “If you did, you wouldn’t have cuffed me or had this–” he gestures with the gun in his hand “–within arm’s reach the whole time.”

He tosses you his boxer shorts; they land on the floor at your feet.

“Put those on, princess. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

You make no move to obey, and he sighs, raising the gun to your chest.

“Don’t make this difficult, Y/N. I’m leaving – you can either come with me, or make me kill you now.”

Cash watches the expressions flit across your face: fear, defiance, sadness, anger… finally, you scowl at him, bending down to grab the boxers. He tries not to look at you wearing them, not wanting to get hard again, especially in nothing but his jeans. Fuck, he should just drive off with you, and keep you with him forever, parading around in nothing but his clothes.

Well, he’d have to get out of here with you first to even pitch you the idea.

He gets dressed one-handed with some difficulty, watching you do up the rest of the buttons on his shirt to cover yourself, trying to be prim and proper even now, then gestures to the door with the gun.

“Time to go. Nice and slow,” he instructs you, following you through the house. He slips his shoes on, pulling yours off the top of the fridge where he’d stashed them – they were the only things of yours that hadn’t been exposed to the chloroform – and grabs you by the upper arm the moment they’re on your feet.

Leading you out of the house, he stops outside the driver’s door of his trucking, opening it and half-lifting you inside, keeping the gun trained on you as he runs across to the passenger’s side.

“Drive,” he orders you, tossing you the keys; they land in your lap. “Do it, Y/N!”

Snapping out of it, you fit the keys into the ignition, starting the truck. He thinks he hears sirens in the distance.

“Get us out of here, take a left.”

You seem to be on autopilot, actually listening to him for once, your expression blank and dazed. The tires spin out on the gravel for a moment before the truck speeds out of the driveway and down the road, flying down the deserted street.

“We’re gonna keep going until I’m sure they’re not after us, and then we’re gonna find somewhere nice and quiet for us to talk,” he coos reassuringly, his heart thudding against his chest.

You continue down the lonely road for awhile, never seeing another car, before you suddenly take a sharp right, turning down an old logging road. After about a minute or two, you slam on the brakes, and the truck stops abruptly in the middle of the road.

“Keep going, Y/N,” he pushes, growling when you don’t make a move to take your foot of the brake. “Drive, god damnit!”

“No.” You don’t even look over to him, just continue staring straight ahead with that vacant look.

“‘No’?! What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?!” he snarls, his heart pounding in his panic.

“Someone’s going to get hurt, the longer this goes on. I can’t let that happen.”

“You’re going to get hurt in a second if you don’t fucking drive!” Cash hisses, cocking the gun and pointing it at you. He hopes you don’t notice his hand shaking.

You stay silent for a moment before slowly turning your head and looking past the barrel of the gun to stare into his eyes, your expression somehow managing to be both resolute and distraught.

“I’m sorry, Cash; I can’t. You’re going to have to kill me.”

---

...Sorry.

Part 6

#thomas ian griffith #cash #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007 #dark desires october #disorderly conduct

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distinguished-raccoon · 2 years

Text

Fan Behaviour Pt.1

Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 2

Warnings: Not proofread

Description: Eddie notices the person that always seems to be at his band's performances.

You were a fan of the small band in town, Corroded Coffin, every time they had a performance you'd be there. No matter where or when you could always be spotted in the crowd, which wasn't hard anyway because the crowds were never as big as you hoped they'd be. A downside of the small crowds for you is that it made it hard for you to hide who you were. So you always wore your hoodie to ensure no one could tell it was you.

Everyone at Hawkins High School knew you because you were part of the popular group. Friends with the cheerleaders and jocks invited to every party and dating people like Jason Carver. You two were the 'it' couple, which is why no one understood when you broke up until Jason got with Chrissy. Suddenly everyone felt sorry for you, little did they know you wanted to break up with him as well because you were more interested in the 'freak' of the school, Eddie Munson.

These factors or what had you in your current position watching Corroded Coffin perform in The Hideout while wearing your hoodie. Unfortunately, the bar's air conditioning had broken, meaning you were sweating in the hoodie. Luckily, they had almost finished their set so you could finally get out of the bar and out of the hoodie. To distract yourself from the heat you stare at Eddie as he finishes up the song's last few notes.

You stood up as the song fades out wanting to get out as quick as you could. Finishing the last bit of the drink you had ordered and placing it back on the bar you started to walk towards the door. When you stepped outside you were hit by the warm air and decided to take off your hood as you got further away from The Hideout.

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Eddie was playing at The Hideout which was a normal Tuesday night for him and as he scanned the crowd he spotted them. That strange person that was always at their gigs in that same hoodie. He had started noticing them after they had appeared at a couple of his gigs. Overtime he had become intrigued as to who this was, a couple of times he had tried to talk to them but he had never packed up in time to talk to them.

Except today where he was determined to talk to them before they got away. So when he finished he immediately placed his guitar down and walked towards where the mystery person had been sitting, ignoring the calls of his other band members. Eddie saw them walking towards the door and followed them outside.

When he had got outside he saw the stranger taking off their hoodie and he froze for a second trying to figure out why he felt a sense of familiarity. When he realised who it was he gasped just before he slipped quickly back into the building. It was y/n.

As he walked back over towards the other band members he asked himself while one of the most popular people watched his band. Normally the popular people would ignore that he was in a band or find a way to make fun of him for it. But the one of the most popular people at Hawkins High didn't do either of those things, they were actually a fan.

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The next day y/n was walking to her locker while talking to Chrissy about the routine that the cheerleaders were practising yesterday. As they parted ways to turn the respective corners to get to their lockers y/n almost ran into Eddie who apologised and went the opposite way.

Y/n questioned why Eddie was near their locker because he didn't have any reason to be there. They looked around to see if anything was different that may have been why Eddie was there but seeing nothing they opened their locker.

They stepped back slightly as a folded piece of paper fell out and landed on the ground before they could catch it. They had bent down hope in their heart that this might have been left by Eddie. They flipped open the note and started to read it.

Meet me behind the school during lunch so we can talk and you might get a private concert I know how much you love our concerts

It wasn't signed so y/n felt a little disappointed that there was a chance that it wasn't from Eddie but they kept their hopes up. They read the letter again and felt heat rise to their face as they realised that even if the letter wasn't from Eddie. Someone knew about their obsession with the Corroded Coffin and they may have also known about her love for Eddie Munson.

They decided that even though it may not have been Eddie they needed to meet this person to see what they wanted. It was the last year of their high school life and they didn't want it to be made hell by someone revealing their obsession.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When lunch came y/n walked behind the school to the table that Eddie would normally do his drug deals. When they got their no one was their so they sat down and waited. Yet they didn't have to wait for long because after 1 minute or so someone walked up behind them.

"I finally get to meet my biggest fan in person" They said making y/n turn around in surprise. The thoughts that had been spiralling around in their head for the last couple of hours finally started to settle they realised who it was.

They weren't sure if the fact that it was their crush should have calmed them or made them panic more but it calmed them slightly anyway.

"Hi Eddie, what did you wanna talk about?" You said trying to ignore what he had said.

They hoped that this entire conversation would finish and they'd be able to ignore this and go back to their normal lives. Even though what they really wanted was for at least a friendship to start from this. But they thought that all Eddie wanted was to blackmail them a little for fun and then forget this entire thing happened.

Eddie walked around the table to sit on the opposite side "I just wanted to ask you about your... obsession with my band and me."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n

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jadedrrose · 1 year

Text

Strange Connections - ch. three

You finally meet with Levi again, and it seems that you both want to become something, but neither of you understand your feelings.

Warnings: none… I think? Lmk if there’s something I missed

Three days had passed since the incident in the alleyway.

On the first day, you’d woken up in a daze. You get foggy, as if the events from the previous day couldn’t have possibly been real.

You sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep off your eyes and hoping you’d be able to process everything…

Had you not been careful enough? It wasn’t the first fight you’d gotten into, but it was the first one that you nearly died in. What exactly was your wrong move that had resulted in you becoming cornered, thrown to the ground.

It was when you saw the dull lantern light reflecting against the gun strapped to his waist. It had thrown you off, and you mistakenly stopped moving while pondering over what your next move would be, with the gun in consideration. You should’ve just kept moving.

So many “I should’ve done…” and “why didn’t I do…” thoughts filled your head as you sat in your bed. But what does it matter now? You’d made it out alive, and that’s what mattered. Dwelling in what you did incorrect wouldn’t change anything.

Levi. The stranger who’d saved you. Why did he save me…? It’s not like murders are rare down here. Most people would’ve ignored the situation, pretending like it didn’t exist. He had no reason to help you. And then to dress your wounds and clean your blood-stained clothes? Was this just what he did on the daily? There was no way you were his one exception.

You looked over to your dresser to see the shirt he’d given you folded up, waiting for him to pick it up. You’d washed it and ironed it, hoping it would be cleaned to his standards, which had been obvious from the state of his home.

As you continued looking at the shirt, you thought of how intimate it was to be wearing his clothes… No. Stop, it was necessary. There was nothing romantic about it. But still you couldn’t help the blush rising to your cheeks, placing one hand against the skin on your face and feeling the warmth. This was ridiculous. How could you possibly be infatuated with this man? Let alone a man you’d met literally a single day ago.

Shaking your head, you rose from the sheets on your bed and got ready for your day, starting out the same as always; feeding the stray cats.

—

The second day was just as uneventful. Except that you and Cass happened to both be working that day, so you ended up discussing the events with her. But that only resulted in her teasing you about the situation with Levi.

On the third day, you hoped that something would happen. Were you simply bored as you kept trying to convince yourself, or did you actually somehow miss Levi? You refused to admit that it was the latter, even if you knew deep down you’d already become obsessed with the idea of him helping you. Maybe you were special to him. But why? In the end, it still didn’t make any sense to you.

You didn’t work that day. Things went as usual though; you checked on the cats and returned back to your home. Honestly, you were reluctant to try going into the market again. Even if you really did need to get some groceries…

You stared at the singular potato and carrot you’d placed onto your counter, trying to figure out how to cook them. They were the last two food items you had left. If you really didn’t want to head out, you needed to use the two ingredients sparingly.

Use half of the potato, maybe? Boil the half and mash it up, and then heat the carrots up to go with it. It was barely a meal, but that’s all you had.

Sighing, you decided it was the only option other than attempting your trip to the market again. So you pulled out a pot and a knife, slicing off half the potato and putting it in the pot along with some water. You placed it onto the brick counter, taking a match and lighting a fire underneath the top.

Now you have to wait. You grabbed one of the few books on your shelf, plopping yourself onto the old wooden chair at your kitchen table and opening it up to the page you’d marked. You’d read the book multiple times now, but it was at least long enough that it kept you mildly entertained with each re-read.

You’d only gotten a few pages down when there was a knock at your front door. Your attention snapped to the door across the room, eyes widening. Was Levi here with your clothes?

Trying to not make any noise, you got up and walked to the outer wall of your home, peeking out the small window to see who was at your door.

All it took was a glimpse of his raven hair to confirm it was who you’d been hoping for.

You stepped over excitedly to open the door, nearly swinging it open before reminding yourself you shouldn’t appear so hyped up.

So you slowly opened the door, pretending that you didn’t know exactly who was on the other side, then showing a slight smile to him.

“Oh. Hi, Levi,” you welcomed him, fully opening the door.

“Hey,” he quietly replied, stepping inside when you’d moved aside for him to do so. You watched as he looked around the room, probably to see if you were even remotely as clean as he was.

He simply hummed, and you couldn’t quite tell if he was satisfied with the state of your house or not. Levi then turned to you, holding out your corset and blouse for you to take.

You gently grabbed them from his grip, sharply inhaling when your fingers brushed against his.

With a single glance, you realized he’d noticed. You needed to come up with a different reason to why you’d… reacted.

“H-how did you get them so clean? I mean, they were um… completely soaked,” you stuttered, cursing at yourself inwardly when you couldn’t stop the red blush rising onto your face. Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious…

“It’s from a product that comes from up top. Really hard to come by, but it’s worth the cost…”

You briefly wondered what that cost was. “How much was it?”

Levi raised an eyebrow, eyeing you with an odd expression. Was he thinking that you would judge him for the price?

“It didn’t cost money,” he replied. “…I don’t know if you’d want to hear the exact answer.”

Oh. It wasn’t bought. It had been stolen, but you weren’t really sure what else that his statement implied. Had he caused someone harm over this product?

“I think I can handle it,” you told him. Damn your curiosity.

He stayed silent for a moment, before sighing and crossing his arms. “Fine. Had to threaten a guy to get it. I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Well, that was slightly reassuring.

“Why would I think that?” You asked, slightly defensively.

“I can tell by your face, idiot.”

What? He’d just called you an idiot and yet you weren’t offended. It was almost like he’d said it in a friendly manner. Did he want to pursue at least a platonic relationship with you?! Why else would he fondly call you an idiot?

You were stunned into silence nevertheless, and Levi took notice quickly. So he looked over to your kitchen, seeing… the potato and carrot.

“Is that all you have?” He asked as though he was scolding you.

“Oh. Yeah, I never made it to the market on that day, as you know. And I’ve been too uncomfortable to go since.”

Levi looked between you and your empty kitchen, before turning to face you completely. “I’ll take you,” he offered.

Your eyes lit up, heart beating faster at his suggestion. He cared enough to accompany you!

“You will?” You asked, trying to mask the excitement in your voice.

He nodded.

“My god! You really are some kind of hero, huh? Thank you!”

You didn’t quite notice it, but then Levi’s eyes just barely lit up. Something about the way you praised him…

“I’m not a hero,” he said, averting his eyes awkwardly. “But… you’re welcome.”

—

Levi had advised you to bring your dagger along with you. It briefly made you nervous, but then he showed you his own dagger, stating two would be better than one. His comment made you smile.

And you continued to smile as you both walked up to the market. Levi noticed this. Really, he noticed everything. You were incredibly poor at hiding your emotions, he thought.

But Levi didn’t have any experience with women. Let alone with making friends. So… he didn’t know what to think of your actions. Maybe that was just how everybody was, he’d decided.

Although he couldn’t deny that he felt some way about you. He kept feeling the strange urge to protect you, and he’d actually been a bit worried about you after you’d left his home three days ago. And still, he just ignored it. Because again, he didn’t understand how any type of relationship other than being enemies worked.

As the two of you continued walking in the direction of the market, Levi couldn’t help but sneak glances at you. You just seemed so different. Just about everyone in The Underground lived in filth and chose to not do anything about that. But you, on the other hand, seemed to keep up with cleanliness more. He liked that about you.

Not to mention your looks. Levi didn’t even understand his own emotions about it, but you had some strange effect on him already. That was undeniable, even if it embarrassed him to think so.

You were wearing a similar outfit to the one that you’d worn on the day he’d met you. Although the blouse you wore today had a lot more flower-detailed lace, along the collar and sleeves. He thought it looked pretty.

Unfortunately for him, you’d caught him staring. You smiled when your eyes met.

“Your shirt is nice. How the hell did you get that lace?” He asked, trying to make the subject seem less about the fact that he was admiring you.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you glanced over your shirt. “The shirt was just a regular one I bought years ago, but I got so bored one day that I bought this cheap lace and tried making the shirt look fancier.”

“Tried? It looks professional,” Levi observed.

“Really?!” Your eyes seem to sparkle at the compliment. “I’ve never sewed anything other than tears in things, so I always thought I’d done an awful job.”

“Hm.” Levi decided it was time to look away from you.

The market was now in sight, and just as he’d noticed everything else, Levi noticed that you seemed to become nervous. Your smile had faded, and your eyes darted around, some concern showing on your features. You must’ve been looking for those men.

“Oi,” he called, “if I see them, I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry.”

You nodded, not looking away from your surroundings.

—

You’d successfully made it to the foods section of the market, trying to buy what you needed as quickly as possible. You picked up more potatoes, a few vegetables, and whatever else you could think of needing off the top of your head.

Levi stood a couple feet behind you, keeping watch as you’d requested. Just to make me feel better, you told him. He’d obliged, letting you know that his signal for “time to go” would be a single nod to you.

Just as you paid for some flour, there was a small crash and a ruckus down at the miscellaneous goods section. A fight was breaking out, it seemed.

You looked to Levi, who had his eyes focused on the commotion, but he hadn’t signaled yet. Everything was fine, then.

Right? But what if the men were part of it, and they just weren’t physically in the fight. They could be standing behind Levi, leaving him unaware of their presence, for all you knew.

You jumped as a hand met your shoulder.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice came from behind you. “I don’t see those men, but I do know the guys causing the raid over there are part of the gang they’re in.”

You nodded. “So we should leave then,” you said. “I think I’m about done anyways. If I forgot anything, I’ll come back another time.”

And Levi nodded too, removing his hand from your shoulder and moving to stand beside you as the two of you began walking away from the market, back to your home.

—

Sadly, your time with him was once again coming to an end. He’d helped you put the groceries away, and then you’d gone to grab the shirt from your bedroom, handing it over to him and praying you hadn’t somehow ruined it.

“Did you clean it?” He asked, looking it over. “And iron it?”

“Yeah… I didn’t want to return it looking all used,” you answered.

He was quiet as he continued looking it over for any flaws, before nodding. “Thanks.”

With that, you no longer had any business with him. So he stepped outside, going to make his way home. You watched with sad eyes, having a feeling you wouldn’t see him again for a long time, if at all. With every step he took further away from you, something deep within you was screaming at you to stop him.

Giving in, you stepped out and called for him, “Levi!”

He stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at you.

You released a heavy breath, “…will I see you again?”

Levi looked a bit confused, but to your surprise, his answer was entirely different from the one you’d been expecting.

“Yeah. You will.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his response. “Okay,” you said. “I’ll see you whenever that is, then.”

“Mhm. Bye, y/n.”

You waited until he was a bit further away to throw your face into your hands, giggling like he’d just confessed his love to you. Why were you acting like this? You weren’t even friends! …or so you assumed. Shaking the butterflies off, you stepped into your home, shutting the door behind you.

Once again, you’d spend every day waiting and hoping you’d met again sooner than later.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi aot x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot levi

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year

Text

Skin & Scale (Part 28)

Lead number one takes them into the heart of the city where the upper class watch their theatrical performances.

Azula can't say that she hates it, she rather enjoys having an excuse to do her hair and makeup up nice and pretty. Mai helps her fashion her hair up into two twin buns with golden combs and jeweled hair sticks that boast floral cascades.

Earth Kingdom formal robes are quite comfy as well, she rather missed wearing silk instead of wool and whatever materials the Sun Warriors cut their attire from. Greens and creamy yellows aren't her best colors but TyLee says that she looks nice. Soft and cute to be exact, but nice all the same.

She always had thought that Earth Kingdom attire made her look more childlike and it isn't something that particularly pleases her. She thinks that it might be the style of headdress, or the way that the robes sit on her frame. The sleeves are so long, it makes her look smaller than she already is.

She dabs on a few more spots of blush. Decidedly, this only accentuates the innocent look. She lifts a rag to rub it away and start over…

"We should get going, the show will be starting soon and we'll need good spots if we're going to try to pick mother out." Zuko says.

Azuka quirks a brow. "Since when are you on time to events?"

"Maybe I found your lecture about council meeting attendance to be inspiring and life changing."

"Well of course." She holds her chin up. "I am a very inspiring…"

"And terrifying…"

She elects to ignore Sokka’s addition, "person."

"Inspiring and terrifying just about sums it up." Zuko agrees.

"What do you think!?" Iroh emerges from the adjoining room wearing a large grin and a ridiculous lion-turtle mask, fixed askew on his head.

She thinks that it is over the top and unnecessary, secondhand embarrassment inducing. But at the smiles and chuckles sounding around the room, she opts to keep this to herself. Perhaps if uncle knew just how much restraint she has, all of the comments she elects not to make, he would see her as such an unkind person.

"I should get a mask." Toph mumbles. "I could sneak on stage and mess with the script. It would be an unforgettable show."

“Don’t do that.” Katara grumbles.

“Oh come on, lighten up! We can become the Earth Kingdom’s best actresses!”

“I think that, that is a wonderful idea.” Iroh beams. He pulls the mask over his face.

“See, he gets it!” Toph spins around and snatches herself a cape. “If you don’t want to join me then Iroh can and you’ll regret it when he’s the second best actress in the Earth Kingdom and you aren’t.”

Azula folds her arms across her chest. “I thought that Zuko said that we were in a hurry. So why are we messing around with silly costumes?”

Iroh’s goofy grin droops into that familiar half frown that she is used to him fixing her with. It is as though she had called Zuzu an embarrassing failure rather than simply making a call–albeit an agitated one–to keep them all on task. Someone has to afterall. Agni forbid Iroh act like a grown man. Evidently she is tired of his silly antics, that false sense of gentleness. Or, rather, the gentleness he can spare everyone but her.

And then he has the audacity to pretend like he is trying to help. At least she herself and Ozai are honest and upfront about their resentments.

“Yes, I would rather like to get on with this.” Shaw says with a yawn. The woman is dressed quite prettily herself. She has chosen a dark green gown with little dragonflies dancing up on the fabric. While father stands at her side with his hand on her shoulder.

This also takes some getting used to–a mother and father who are actually affectionate with each other. A mother and father who stand in agreement instead of a shouting match.

“I did say that.” Zuko speaks up, if only to keep the relative peace.

Mother and father sense her distaste and by extension she can feel their respect for Iroh waning. They bite their tongues if only because of a kinder past. It is hard to imagine that they had taught him what he knows and she doesn’t doubt that it leaves him discontent to have friends turn on him so readily.

She supposes that she can offer him a little shred of sympathy there.

Katara also nods in agreement. “I think that we’re all set.”

.oOo.

Azula finds herself a seat. At first she can't place the source of the flutters blossoming in her tummy. Why her throat is tightening.

She fixes her eyes upon the show pamphlet. 'Underground: Life of a Badgermole.' She can't tell if she is attending a children's show or a show with pooer writing and forced metaphors. Either which way she can't imagine that it will hold a candle to Fire Nation theater.

But, regardless, it certainly reminds her of trips to Ember Island. Shimmering, golden days when it had seemed like their family could be a functional one. Or, at the very least, a distant but tolerable one.

The seat next to her dips but where she expects to see either mother or father she sees Sokka instead. “You look like you’re thinking too hard about something.” He observes.

“I’m thinking about how mother or father should be sitting here.”

Father promptly lifts Sokka from the chair and sits him in the next one over.

“Oh come on! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly enough to draw looks from the more uppity, pretentious theater attendees. She can’t tell if his wince is from the shame of having been handed several harsh ‘sshhh’s’ or from having been so easily ejected by father.

She is inclined to say that it is the latter. “Hey!” He declares just as loudly and the glowers intensify. “I was sitting there first.”

Mother slips into the other empty seat to the left of her. “He is making quite a scene.” She mutters.

“Indeed.” Azula agrees. “He’s got such a talent with that, that it’s almost admirable. Although he hasn’t topped Zuzu yet.”

He is practically bouncing up and down from one foot through the other. “You can’t just steal a man’s chair! Don’t dragons have an honor code.”

Ran cracks a smile. “We have a duty to our family. Do not impede. Your kind have already done that enough.”

“Why do you want to sit by me so badly anyhow?” Azula shrugs.

“Because Toph talks through the whole play, Katara and Zuko always complain about the acting, and Aang always accidentally nudges my seat. I can’t say for sure, but I feel like TyLee would talk even more than Toph!”

“She does yap through the whole show, yes.” Azula confirms. “What about Mai?”

“She’s too unenthusiastic. I want to be able to have an intellectual discussion about art and I think that I’ll find it here…” he points to father. “In this spot.”

“I am a dragon of culture.” Ran nods.

“I’m talking about Azula!” He pauses and sputters a quick, “although you’re also probably a great guy to have in depth discussions with, because she probably gets her…her…” he trails off and points to his own head. “Thinking brain stuff from you.”

“Thinking brain stuff?” Azula quirks a brow. “Are yous sure that you can handle a classy, sophisticated discussion?”

“Yes!” He insists. “And we could have a great one if I could sit in the spot that my butt touched first.”

Azula looks back at the pamphlet. “I’m not sure how intellectual we can get with a play about burrowing badgermoles.”

“We can find out.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “If I could have my seat back.” He locks eyes with father. Azula has to admit that she is rather impressed; father’s glare is scathing and unwavering. Although Sokka’s is awkward and tense, he holds it.

“Do you want to sit with the loud human?”

Azula hums, “I suppose that I can.”

Ran gives Sokka a pat on the shoulder and gestures to the now vacant spot.

“Where are you going to sit, father?”

Shaw stands, lets Ran take his new seat, and makes herself comfortable in his lap. “Right here.” He replies.

She finds herself swallowing another lump in her throat. So long ago, she remembers falling asleep, leaning against Ozai during act four or five of Love Amongst The Dragons. Zuko had dozed off during act three and was well into a fit of snores that truly only Ursa could love. She might have given him a good kick had she not been in Ozai’s lap by that point.

She had really felt like he truly loved her.

And maybe he had at once point. Maybe he had cherished her truly when her cheeks were still puffy and round and her hands were still tiny and easy to hold, when her mouth was missing a few teeth. And maybe for a moment, Ursa saw her as a child, a born human child just like Zuko. Because she remembers feeling Ursa’s hand on her back, rubbing in small circles. She remembers the tickle of Ozai’s beard on he forehead and the smell of his robes–ceder incense and ash–as she nuzzled into him.

She remembers waking up in her room the next day asking when they’d get to see another play.

“You didn’t even like the one we just went to.” Ozai had laughed. She remembers that laugh. And Ursa had too. They used to laugh a lot together.

And he had been right, she hated the play. But she loved the atmosphere. How, for just a moment, she was Ursa’s precious baby and Zuko was Ozai’s favorable son.

That was the real act, there in the crowd and not on the stage.

“Are you alright?” Sokka asks.

“I’m fine.” Azula mumbles. “Why do you ask?” She realizes that she had been gritting her teeth, bunching the fabric of her robes in her fists.

“You’re crying.”

“I am not.”

But mother wipes a single tear from her cheek.

“I’m fine.” Sometimes it just hits hard, the life that she could have had. The comforts and joys. The warmth and the love. All of that cast away for something cold and cruel. Mother and father know that she isn’t alright, it still bleeds through their bond.

It is both comforting and mortifying all at once. She can’t hide anything from them yet. She hasn’t mastered the ability. But father retracts himself from her mind and mother follows. They usually do when they start to detect her discomfort.

Though while they retreat mentally, mother cups her hand over Azula’s.

“Your family used to see plays together.” Sokka comments. “Zuko mentioned that on Ember Island. He was pretty somber about it too, especially when Katara found that baby picture of Ozai…”

Azula cracks a smile. “He always hated when Ursa pulled that out.”

“It brings everyone else joy.” Sokka chuckles. His sheepish grin fades with her own. “It’s bittersweet isn’t it?”

Azula nods. “I’ll be fine.” She insists again.

And she will be, because this time when the curtains close the acting will be done. The loving family that she had in the theater seat will be there when they get back to the Jasmine Dragon and remain endlessly after.

“It has just been a while since I’ve seen a play with family.”

Sokka nods, “well I’ll keep my mouth shut then and let you enjoy family time.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “You can talk, Sokka. Just don’t say dumb things.”

The curtains open and, at least for a time, she can forget about the things that trouble her. She thinks that it would do her well to actually turn her mind off for a change and decompress. Evidently she finds that Earth Kingdom theater is just as dull as what the Ember Island Players offer.

Sokka is shaking her awake and the curtains have closed.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Ran & Saw #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction #Zuko #Iroh

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torreshalstead · 1 year

Text

You make the miles worth it - Chapter 20

Summary - The Chicago Marathon had always been a dream for Hailey. And when she meets a stranger in pink running shoes whilst training, she realises maybe she had been dreaming for more.

Chapters - 21/24

Chapter Summary - 2 weeks until the big day and Hailey is missing Jay whilst he’s in New York.

Notes - I can’t believe there’s only 2 chapters and an epilogue left after this! Thanks for all the support ❤️Hope you enjoy! AO3 Link

2 weeks to go

The next couple of days without Jay, Hailey tried desperately to ignore the fact it felt like something was missing. They still texted throughout the day and Jay had even managed to find the time to call once but the case they were working on out there was draining every second of free time he had.

But Hailey missed him. More than she thought she would. She had run alone once without him but had felt empty with every step she had taken so curtailed it early and headed home. It was supposed to be their taper period anyway so she wasn’t worried. Well not about her race day fitness anyway but the possibility of having to run the race without him, that was the new worry.

When she returned home from her shortened run that day, there was a package waiting for her on the doorstep. Not recalling that she had ordered anything recently, she opened it curiously. Inside were two white running tanks, one large and one small. Hailey felt a pang in her chest when she laid them out on the coffee table.

The larger of the two had Jay written in bright green capital letters across the chest. The smaller had Hailey written in blue. The backs of both had Chicago Marathon 2022 printed on them.

She had ordered them the night they had agreed to run the race together. She had always planned on getting a shirt for herself as she had heard that if you had your name on your shirt then people would yell for you and support you along the course. And Hailey was planning on using all the support she could get. When they decided to run together, on a spur of the moment, Hailey decided that they could match. She had planned on surprising Jay with it the night before the race.

Hailey stood staring at the shirts, running her hand over the printed lettering, contemplating the possibility, which she hoped was small, that she would be wearing hers solo in 2 weeks time. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the front door open and close. It was only when her roommate called out that she shook herself back into the present.

‘What you got there?’ Vanessa asked as she walked into the living room, spotting Hailey gazing down at the table.

‘Race day shirts,’ Hailey said, her voice smaller than it usually was. ‘I ordered them for Jay and I.’

‘That’s so cute!’ Vanessa exclaimed as she walked over to stand next to her best friend. ‘Oh I love them Hails. You two are going to look adorable!’

‘If he’s back in time,’ Hailey muttered as she folded the shirts up.

‘Hey, positive attitude Hails. He’s going to make it back.’ Vanessa put her arm around Hailey’s shoulders, sensing her friend could use some comfort but would be unlikely to initiate it.

‘He might not V. I’m just trying to be prepared for the possibility.’

‘I get that, I do. But it’s going to take a hell of a lot to keep him away from you and running that race together.’

‘The FBI would probably be counted as a hell of a lot,’ Hailey chuckled emptily. ‘It’s just not fair, he put in all this effort and training and he might not get to actually finish it off. I know he’s doing something important, something bigger than running a marathon…’ she tailed off.

‘But this was still important for you both.’ Hailey nodded and Vanessa continued. ‘Well why don’t you go put those away so they’ll be somewhere safe when you and Jay need them and you and I can order some takeout for dinner.’

Hailey smiled softly knowing her friend was just trying to make her feel better. It was somewhat working but she still had the feeling in her gut that it might not just work out the way she wanted.

——————————————————————————

The vibrations from Hailey’s phone against her bedside table woke her up from a less than peaceful sleep.

One quick glance at her screen woke her up even more and a smile tugged on her lips as she swiped left and answered the call.

‘Hey,’ she said softly.

‘I didn’t wake you did I?’ Jays voice, raspy from a long days work echoed through the phones speaker pressed against her ear.

‘You did but I don’t mind’

‘Sorry, just missed you’

Hailey’s smile grew even wider. ‘Then don’t be sorry. You good?’

‘Just a long day at work, spent most of the day in the box but still couldn’t get anything out of the guy.’ Hailey could hear the tiredness and exasperation in his voice. ‘So decided I needed a pick me up.’

‘And calling me was your answer?’ She asked with a hint of sass.

‘Always’, Jay’s voice, however, was void of sass and Hailey felt the warmth of his words spread through her body.

‘So apart from a not so great day today, how’s the rest of New York been treating you?’ She rolled over onto her side and propped the phone on the pillow next to her head. It was as close as she would get to Jay being there at that exact moment in time.

‘Oh it's been wonderful. I saw the inside of JFK, the inside of a cab, the office at the FBI, which is very high tech, makes our CPD office look like a hovel and the inside of my hotel room which is too big and too empty’, she heard a dull thud which seemed to indict Jay was now collapsed onto the bed.

‘So you’re having a great time then?’ Hailey chuckled quietly.

‘Loving it,’ Jay matched her chuckle. ‘I did get to chase someone through Central Park today, from what I saw at a glance it looked like it could be lovely.’ Hailey hummed in agreement. ‘Just made me miss Millennium park and the lakefront though,’ he said quietly.

‘It’ll be waiting for you when you get back’

‘Sooner than later hopefully. There’s this blonde girl that I miss and want to see’

‘She’s waiting for you too’, Hailey whispered quietly.

They drifted into a comfortable silence before the ring tone broke through, signalling that Jay had requested to switch the call to FaceTime.

‘There she is,’ Jay said with a smile when their videos connected.

Hailey was right, Jay was lying on the bed, still in his suit from his shift. The fed look was doing wonders for him.

‘Well you’re showing me up dressed to the nines like that!’ She said with a smirk, resting her spare hand under her head as she held the phone up in her other one. The lights were off in her room so it was only her screen and the small lamp she had switched on that were lighting up her features.

‘I cannot wait to get out of these ridiculous suits and back into my Henley and jeans,’ he chuckled.

‘Personally I think it’s a great look,’ Hailey giggled.

‘I’ll remember that,’ Jay said with a smile and a wink. She could tell he was tired, his smile wasn’t quite as bright as usual and his eyes were missing a hint of a sparkle that they did when she usually saw him.

‘They working you hard over there?’ She asked curiously.

Jay nodded, ‘I thought we did crazy hours back home but it just doesn’t stop here. My phone will probably go off at 5am tomorrow’

‘I can let you get some sleep-’

‘I’m good,’ he smiled softly. ‘This is the most relaxed I’ve been since I got her. You’re a calming presence’.

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure Hails. So tell me, how’s Chicago been since I left?’

Hailey chuckled, ‘much of the same, it’s been a windy couple of days.’

‘Oh I miss the wind!’ Jay said dramatically to a laugh from Hailey. ‘And the pizza. The stuff they call pizza here, Hailey honestly it’s like a cracker with sauce on it.’

‘So you don’t want me to tell you I had Bartolis last night with V?’ She smirked when Jay groaned.

‘You’re killing me Hails!’ He threw his arm over his face dramatically.

‘We’ll go when you get back.’

‘That a promise?’ He lifted his arm slightly to reveal one eye and half a grin.

‘Promise’

‘Okay, I’m alive again,’ he removed his arm completely and turned on his side to prop the phone up against the pillow next to him. ‘I’d much rather be back home with you,’ he said quietly.

‘I’d much rather that too.’

‘Tell me about your day?’

‘It’s been pretty dull…’

‘I don’t care, just like to hear your voice,’ he smiled softly.

‘Okay then,’ Hailey slid further down into the bed and got comfortable before beginning to run through her day.

She told Jay how she’d almost gone to work with mismatched shoes on, one black one blue, because she thought it would be a good idea to get dressed without turning the lights on. She told him how the restaurant had been pretty slow but she had had a lovely table of 3 old ladies who had wanted to talk to her more than they wanted to eat. She told him how she’d gone out for a run but came home early because she was too tired and she didn’t want to do it by herself. She didn’t tell him how the shirts had arrived because if he did come back in time for the race then she wanted them to be a surprise. She told him how Vanessa and her had ordered in and watched reruns on Friends because they couldn’t decide on a movie they both wanted to watch.

Jay started to drift off around the discussion of her run but when she paused to see if he was still awake, he told her to continue. So she did.

A few moments later, his soft snores were coming through the speaker, his mouth had fallen open, his eyes closed.

Hailey decided to leave the call open and fell asleep to his peaceful breathing. It was the best sleep she had had in an age.

#upstead #chicago pd #hailey upton #jay halstead #upstead fic #one chicago #upstead fanfic #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #hailey x jay #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #one chicago fanfic #one chicago fic #one chicago fanfiction

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lordfreg · 1 year

Note

HEY GIRLIE POP I SAW UR NOT FEELING GOOD/SICK so I decided to make you a little oneshot to help you feel better! :D

WARNINGS: Mostly silly lil bits of fluff- but it does get slightly suggestive toward the end- but nothing explicit shown!

Imori hated being trapped. She hated the chanting of the crowd, constantly hearing it almost triggered a painful headache every time.

The loop of watching a poor mutilated animal be tortured rather than put out of its misery in its Kranngy prison, the pathetic attempt on the commentator trying to keep the audience hooked on his endless chatting every round. She hated it, and yet she had no way to leave it. The only reason she chose not to leave wasn't even battling in the rink at the moment.

So here she was, sitting above in the booth with her sisters, watching as some Yokai battled against what Imori assumed was a giant snake of sorts. Her eyes slowly blinked away boredom, her chin resting atop her hand with the permanent look of displeasure on her face - causing her sister's to catch notice.

"What's got you looking so blue, Ima?" Her blue scaled sister questioned with a coo, poking her sisters head curiously. She was ignored in return, of course, making her huff.

"Come on, Ima, don't be such a pouty puss." The eldest of them all responded, her tanned scaled hand coming down onto Imori's head, rubbing it like one would do if they had hair.

Imori was quick to roll off her stomach where she lay, swatting away her sisters hand whilst doing so. "I'm nothing of the sort." She stated, folding her arms as she straightened her posture. Her sister rolled her eyes in return, placing her clawed hands in her hips.

"You can hide that somethings on your mind from us, Ima, you won't win." Her sister sang, causing her to glare darkly, turning away from them to watch the battle she had little interest in.

The three sisters exchanged glances behind her. Rather, it be concern, or annoyance, Imori could sense them, making her hold on her arms tighten ever so slightly, furrowing her brows.

She knew they meant to harm. It was all playful or worry, but it didn't help her feelings - it just made her feel worse. Weak, helpless, and Imori was anything but that. She spent her whole making sure she didn't appear that way to anyone, and she'd keep that image up as long as she could... It's what she had to do - what she wanted... Right?

"Good evening, ladies." The familiar voice came, catching all the attention of the girls inside the booth, immediately turning around.

The curtains flew open to reveal David, now wearing his more casual clothes, that being a plain white tanktop with tight fitting jeans. He wore his plum colored bandana to keep his chocolate curls out of his face and wore additional sunglasses over his brown eyes.

"Hi David!" Imori's sisters chanted in unison, earning a few giggles and shy glances in his direction as he stood in between the open curtains with a smirk, fixing the bandages on his arms. Imori couldn't see, but she could tell he had a prideful brow quirked- she could just smack him.

"Just stopping by to say hi?" Imori's sister asked, checking her Grey spikes on her face as if it were hair that needed to be tamed. "We were just thinking about you, actually." She flirted.

Imori's tail flicked back and forth in irritation, trying desperately to ignore the attention her sisters were practically drawing David in and the burning sensation of eyes on her body as well.

"Mhm. Actually, I'm here to pick someone up." He responded coolly, placing his arm against the wall with his other on his hip, tilting his glasses on his nose to show his eyes on Imori.

The sounds of realization that came from Imoris sisters caused her face to burn hot, closing her eyes as she wished for one of David's uncles portals to open up underneath her and put her in Antarctica or something.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Our little sis needs some time out of here. She's getting real cranky." The blue Gecko chimed, wrapping an arm around her sister, who grunted in alarm - the action causing her to lock eyes with David finally - the one she tried so hard to avoid eye contact with.

"I don't want to go anywhere." Imori bluntly said, turning her snout up at David, turning away as she folded her arms once more.

Her sisters whined in protest, of course. "Oh, come on, Ima! You're turning down a night spent with him? You're a mad lizard!"

"If you don't want him, I'll take him."

"I second that~!"

You could almost feel the anger begin to heat up the room, just coming off of Imori as her posture tightened and her knees bobbed impatiently from her criss cross position on the floor.

"Don't worry, girls," David finally spoke, stepping fully into the booth, earing a very hard and wary sideye from Imori. "I know how to get her out of this booth."

If you'd think he meant that in any meaningful way, like he'd move her with words or affection- you'd be incorrect, Davud was a romantic, but he wasn't a hopeless one- he was the stubborn kind.

In one swift motion, before Imori could even register Davud stepping to her side, he grabbed her sides quickly, causing her to shout.

"What are you- Let me go this instant!" She shrieked, her voice getting a higher octave. Davud ignored the kicks and squeals- rather it be Imori or her sisters happily and laughing at their poor sisters' situation.

He hummed content, hoisting her into a position over his shoulder, holding the back of her legs down to stop her kicks- not minding the hits to his back from her hands as he gave a nod to her sisters. "I'll see you three around?" He questioned, using his unoccupied hand to fix his glasses back up on his face.

"If there's a chance you'll do that to me? Absolutely." Imrois tanned scaled sister teased, fanning herself jokingly. "Have her back by midnight!" She spoke, giving a sickly sweet smile and wave.

"I don't make promises I won't keep." David responded, turning with a curt hand salute before turning away and walking out, causing Imori to face her sisters once more, giving a kind middle finger to them before the curtains were shut and she was out of sight.

---- "You're pathetic attempt of 'kidnapping' me isn't as charming as you think it is, just so you know." Imori broke the silence that hung in the hall. David was currently walking her down. In return, she git a mocking laugh.

"She talks." David sassed. "If that's the case, how come I heard your giggles in the whole fit of them earlier, hm?" He pointed, feeling Imori freeze, quickly getting quiet once more, causing him to let out a satisfied hum.

"You- don't know what you're talking about, I bet you didn't even hear them... If I was giggling anyway!" She added quickly, ignoring the churning in her stomach.

"Oh, don't go getting your tail in a twist." David rolled his eyes, pinching a bit of Imori's tail and earning a flustered squeak from the Gecko at the sudden sharp sensation.

"I know you enough to hear your voice a mile away since, ya know, it's rare to even hear to talk." He quipped, earning a harsh hit to his lower back, making him grin stupidly.

-- The echoed clanging of David's boots against the metal stairs filled the silence that filled the room quickly, every step they took, it danwed on Imori that they were headed to the top of the broken hotel, making her wiggle a bit to try and be free of David's hold. "I can walk by myself, you know?" She spat.

"Hold your horses, princess, you can wait till we get to the top." David responded simply, giving a few harsh pats to her ass.

"Would you mind easing off the attacks to my backside, please?" She whispered harshly, her face turning a dark shade as she looked around if anyone could be watching.

"You haven't made any complaints till now, but I guess." He rolled his eyes playfully, grabbing the door hand that led outside to the rooftop, being met with the setting sun outside.

The evening air let Imori know they had made it outside, looking around to see the desolate rooftop, looking over the wasteland kf destroyed and abandoned buildings, the dark pink and magenta sky reflecting off the glass of fallen skyscrapers.

For some strange reason, it was almost considered beautiful. It'd been a while since she could see a peaceful sunset... And she now realized why David went through all the trouble of dragging her stubborn self out here.

She yelped just a bit as she was slid off of David's shoulder, feeling his firm grip on her waist as he set her down. She stood a few inches away from him, her hands placed against his chest while his still laid against her sides, holding them much more gently now.

She fought, looking up at him, staring at his collarbone and the dark chekcered markings that adorned it. She bit her lip nervously, playing with the chain necklace around his neck.

"Are you in a better mood now?" He whispered, sliding hid hands up to her back. She slowly nodded, freeing down at her feet with a pout imminent on her face.

He smiled fondly in return, pulling away and taking her hand into his, tugging herover to the ledge of the building. "Come on, then, don't wanna miss what I carried you all the way up those flight of stairs for."

She followed behind quickly, taking a seat right next to David upon the ledge, where he had patted his hand against. She sat awkwardly, not wanting to be touching David if he didn't want it, but she was also at the disadvantage of being so close to him, their shoulders barely brushing.

David noticed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side as he scoffed a bit. "I won't bite you, babe," he spoke, giving her a small glance. "Unless you're wanting to go somewhere more private for that kinda thing -"

She smacked his chest harshly, burying her face into the crook of his neck as he snickered to himself. "You're a mad man, Hamato." She snipped.

"Madly in love with you." He responded, stroking his thumb against her hip with a sly grin. He awaited some kind of answer, whether it be a scoff or another hut, but he got nothing, making him take a second to look down at where Imori had hidden her face.

She pued herself away for a second, a lost in thought look on her face as her eyes were lost on something else, looking at anywhere but his face. She finally did look at him, but he couldn't read her expression as anything happy.

"Why... Why say that?" She asked quietly. "You know that word has a strong meaning. You shouldn't just be saying it to some- someone like me."

David was taken aback for a second, blinking in surprise for a moment, sharing the same expression she did, watching as she held firm, awaiting an answer sooner or later.

He slowly turned his head back to look out, giving a small shrug as he opened his mouth to say something, but he continually closed it, unsure of what to say. That seemed to be Imoris answer, feeling her heart ache for some reason. She assumed there'd be more meaning to what he had to say, whether that be cruel words of him not meaning anything or thoughtful loving ones, explaining what the words meant to him, and why he'd use them for her.

She looked back out with him, fighting any feeling in her wanting to question him more, ask if that truly was it, all he had to say- no, he didn't even say anything at all!

"Well, I guess it's the same thing I told your sisters." David finally said, making her cock her head back in confusion, looking to him again. "I don't make promises I won't keep."

"But... You never promised you loved me?" She questioned, all be just a bit hurt, hugging her stomach unsurely as it kept churning with every confusing statement that left David's mouth.

"But I promised I'd win your hand one day, didn't I?" He responded, still looking out to the view before them, a peaceful expression across his face as he held a small smile.

Imori had never seen him looking so... Calm. Whenever he was neutral or quiet, he always had some sort of scowl or resting bitchface, but he was really at peace for once now, he almost looked... Happy.

"I... I suppose you did." Imori hummed, her hands falling into her lap. She bit her tongue, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. "But- but those are just words." She tried to affirm, cupping her hands together.

Her breath got caught in her throat for a moment when she fel David's hand leave her hip and find its way to her chin, using his fingers to tilt her head and and turn to look at him.

She could pracitcally hear her heart pounded against her ribcage as David studied her with half lidded eyes. David felt how hot her face suddenly became a breathy chuckle escaping.

"Didn't you hear me earlier?" He whispered, his voice lowering as he flicked her forehead jokingly, causing her to flinch back, sneering at him.

"Alright then- I won't doubt these 'promises' ." She growled, rubbing her forehead with a small hiss as the pain ceased. "I suppose... Life here isn't as unbearable... If I'm stuck with you." She said it so quiet David almost didn't hear her, eyes widening slightly as he simply stared into her dark orange eyes, watching as her pupils dilated slowly, her hands wrapping around the wrist of his hand that held her chin.

She watched him carefully, taking note of his features, his brows creasing together as his mouth opened slightly. Something was on his mind, or he was thinking something... She wasn't sure which one to be nervous about.

"What if we don't have to be trapped?" He finally spoke, never breaking eye contact as his hand left her chin, causing Imori to slowly draw her hands back in confusion. She gave a slow shake of the head, showing she didn't understand what he meant.

David's demeanor brightened, it almost beat the setting sun's glow, his eyes gleaming with some kind of determination as he quickly to her hands into his much larger ones.

"Run away with me."

Imori found her mouth falling open, but no words came out. She could only stare flabbergasted at David, who had the most serious look about his sudden idea. When she finally stopped her running mind, being able to think full sentences, all she could manage out was: "What?" Breathelessy.

"I mean it," David paused, shifting in his seat to face her fully, holding their hands up in front of them both. "I want to leave this hell hole, and I want leave with you." He locked their hands together slowly, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand softly, as a nervous mechanism Imori had noted much earlier in their relationship.

"I never had a reason to leave before. Maggie is happy here, and she's protected. My brothers and older sister could come see me, and my mother is well- I felt everyone was... Better off, happy... I wasn't."

Imori swallowed thickly, shifting to face him like he did her, looking down at their now intertwined hands.

"But then I met you. I met one of the greatest parts of my day to see- sure you beat my ass constantly, even when we're not in the rink but that last part is debatable," he said, shrugging off the last words of his statement.

"But you're my spitfire, and I want to spend every last second of my time spent here, with you."

"B-but, what about my sisters?" She asked unsurely, turning to the door that led inside, back to that place, the world she was trapped in- that prison that made everyday feel like a loop in the matrix.

"I already asked them. They told me if it made you happy... Are you happy?" David's joyful demeanor faltered for a moment, his hold on her hands tightening anxiously, his smile fading slowly as she still had yet to look back at him. "Do you want to do this?" He leaned in a bit, feeling his heart almost skip a beat- not in the good way, however, he felt some unwanted dread begin to flood his senses... But he knew no matter her answer was, he had to be ready- even if it was the worse.

What he wasn't ready for however, was when Imori faced him once more, a large smile on her face, a glossy look in her eyes as she showed her teeth in a big grin.

"Yes! Yes I will!" She suddenly leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. David was of course, taken aback by the sudden 'attack', wrapping his arms around her waist tightly as he stumbled off the ledge- thankfully onto the safest side, still on the building and hitting the harsh cement ground.

He would've been bothered by the pain on his back and shoulder if he wasn't caught up in the harsh kiss that Imori had initiated, crashing her lips into his with a still tight hold around his neck to keep him there.

David gladly recuperated the kiss, slowly closing his eyes happily- not at all bothered by the messy kiss he was stuck in.

Once they had pulled away, he smirked mischievously, quirking a brow. "There she is," he bit his lip. "My spitfire."

Imori rolled her eyes in return, grabbing the sides of his face and sticking her tongue out teasingly. "It's better that babe." She sighed, slowly leaning in for another kiss.

"I'm in the mood for other things rather than pushing you to beating me up." David responded, placing his hand to the back of her head, craving her neck in a more comfortable kissing position.

"And what might that be?"

"I think you know what."

"Maybe you should show me an example..."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FUCKING LOVE IT AHHHHHHHHHH THIS RAISED ME FROM THE DEAD I SWEAR THIS IS NOW MY LIFE LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME HOW ARE YOU EVEN MY FRIEND YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PERSON RIGHT NOW YOU’RE AWESOME AND AMAZING AND AHHHHHHHHHHH

all i could think was “mARRY ME JUILET YOU’RE NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN😭😭” and I love it so much guhwAAHHHHH

I am EATING THIS . lunch dinner bREAKFATS !!! I CONSUME NOW RAHHHHHHH

I was going like “😳😳😳😳😨😨😨🤩🤩🤩😚😚😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” the entire time I just love when you wRITE AHHHH GRAHHHHH ANSJAJDJIEIJWIUDTEUKWKHDHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHE JIIJCV

*slicks back hair* sorry, almost lost myself there.😼 anyway, my brother specifically asked that I draw more lizard girls so that’s what I’m gonna do, most DEFINITELY going to draw a scene from this!!!

favorite part is when he just throws her over his shoulder like a potato sack. Gave me so many shrek vibes and tbh that’s kinda their relationship grahhhh

I LOVE IT VERY MUCH AND I AM PINNING THE LINK IN MY HEART FOREVER THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE IT AHHHH

#rottmnt oc #rottmnt oc x oc #rottmnt next generation #rottmnt

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