#and let me tell you the amount of seeds that got blasted out I was like ok yeah I’m a convert plus it’s the whitening one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yikestripes · 4 years

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Good Morning, Sunshine

i was feeling something a little extra domestic and fluffy tonight so i whipped this up :)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none; s o much fluff

“Hello?” You were barely audible, considering your phone ringing had not only woken you up, but the vibrating on the nightstand scared the living hell out of you.

“Hey babe, we just finished up the case. We’re boarding the jet now; I should be at your apartment in about 3 or so hours.” Spencer said, sounding exhausted himself.

“I’ll be waiting. You sound like you haven’t slept, please try to get some rest on the jet.”

“You don’t have to wait up, it’s gonna be like, 4:30 am D.C time.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep at least a little bit.”

“I’ll make sure he knocks out.” You heard Derek say on the other end.

“Thanks Derek. I love you, Spence. Have a safe flight.”

“I don’t really have control over that, but I love you too. See you tomorrow.” You shook your head with a small laugh; either Spencer really was delirious, or he didn’t know you at all. You always waited up for him when you knew he was coming home. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep anyway, you’d be awake worrying until you heard him come through the door and then make all the noise possible changing his clothes and slipping into bed. Sometimes you wondered if he even realized how loud he could be.

You put your phone back on the nightstand and climbed out of bed, pulling one of Spencer’s hoodies over your head as you made your way to the kitchen. You hummed to yourself as you looked around, wondering how you were going to entertain yourself for the next few hours while you waited. You looked to your bookshelf, but remembered that reading always made you tired. You looked at the TV and remembered that all the shows you were currently watching, you were watching with Spencer, and you both actively tried not to watch without the other. That left one option; baking.

You pulled the ingredients together quickly, already having a plan in place. You were going to make Spencer’s favorite treat; your lemon poppy seed muffins that you made every once in a while, which is what made them so special. Spencer fell in love with those before he had fallen in love with you, whenever you brought them to his office to surprise him when you two first started hanging out. He constantly joked that those were the reason you two were still together, to which you would smack his arm and he would give you that sweet little smile that only Spencer Reid could muster.

You grabbed your speaker from your bedroom and blasted some classic rock as you worked the ingredients together. By the time they were in the oven, an hour had already passed and Spencer would be there within another 2 hours. You looked to your cat, Peanut Butter, who had lazily strolled into the kitchen and just looked at you.

“What?” You asked him as he stared at you. He meowed quietly in response, and rubbed against your bare legs. You picked him up and scratched his little head, earning a soft purr in response. “I’ll go back to bed soon, PB. I’m waiting for Spence,” You said. You frowned to yourself and put him back on the ground, where he proceeded to swish his tail at you as he walked away.

“I’ve taken to talking to my cat. I’ve really lost it now. Oh great, now I’m talking to myself in my empty apartment while I bake at 2:30 in the morning. This is normal.” You said to yourself.

You shook your head once again and went to go watch a movie while the muffins finished. You decided to watch one of your old favorites, Jaws. Every time you watched it together (which was often, considering it was one of your favorite movies), Spencer would always critique the likelihood of a killer shark ever coming that close to the beach and killing that many people. You would argue back that it could have gotten a taste for humans, because sharks weren’t the brightest creatures, and he would argue that the only time in history a shark that we knew of existed at that size was the megalodon, which went extinct some time ago. Eventually you would stop responding, Spencer would wrap his arm around you to pull you closer, and you would just enjoy the movie.

The oven beeped about halfway through the movie, about 30 minutes before Spencer was supposed to come home. You grinned to yourself as you set them aside to cool, and started up the coffee maker. You pulled down Spencer’s favorite Doctor Who mug from the cabinet, set it beside your mug and the coffee machine, and went to grab his favorite pajamas from the bedroom. You knew Spencer was utterly capable of taking care of it himself, but you setting everything out for him was one of the things he loved most about you, it just showed him how much you cared time and time again.

You were in the last 10 minutes of the movie when you heard the floor creaking outside of the door, and your heart leapt into your throat. You could hear Spencer outside of the door fumbling with his keys, a sure sign that he was tired and probably had just woken up. You smiled at the fact that he had taken your advice, or Derek forced him to.

“Hey babe.” You turned the TV off and ran over to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Hi stranger.” You pulled away after a solid minute and ran your thumb across his cheek, taking in the circles under his eyes. “Oh baby, please tell me you slept.” Spencer smiled.

“Actually, yes. Emily actually had to wake me up this time, I slept through takeoff and landing.” He grinned.

“I laid your pajamas out on the bed for you, they’re your favorites.” Spencer placed a chaste kiss on your lips as he headed to your room. Although you hadn’t officially moved in together, Spencer basically lived at your apartment. It wasn’t out of lack of commitment or really anything else, it was somewhere between sheer laziness and not really asking the question. You both had keys to each other's apartments and could come and go as you pleased, not to mention Peanut Butter adored Spencer, but it had never really passed through your thoughts to ask him to move in.

You brewed some coffee for you both and made his just how he liked it, ridiculous amounts of sugar. It was amazing he functioned throughout the day without getting any sort of sugar crash. He emerged from your room a few minutes later, pajama clad and his hair sticking up at funny angles from the sweatshirt he put on.

“Coffee too? What did I do to deserve you,” He kissed you again, taking the mug from you.

“That’s not all,” You grinned and stepped aside, revealing the muffin tray on the counter.

“Oh my God, muffins!” He ditched his coffee mug and grabbed one, shoving half of it in his mouth. “Ohh my God, the lemon poppyseed ones!” He said through a mouthful of muffin.

“Ew, Spence, that’s disgusting!” You laughed.

“Sorry,” He grinned through his muffin-filled mouth. You shook your head as you sipped your coffee.

You looked out at the balcony as the sky began to lighten. You went over and pulled the door open, plopping yourself on one of the fluffy couches. Spencer grabbed his coffee and followed you, shutting the door just after Peanut Butter sauntered out. You patted your lap and he jumped up, purring. Spencer pet him gently, sitting snugly beside you. You leaned against him and took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You opened them to see Spencer staring down at you, a goofy smile forming on his face.

“What, Muffin Boy?” You laughed, wiping away a crumb from his cheek.

“Just looking at you, you look so beautiful in this light.” You blushed. Despite being together for just around 2 years, he still knew how to give you butterflies.

“I love you.” He kissed your head and looked out at the rising sun.

“I love you too.” You sat in silence for a little while, just watching as the sun lazily grew over the D.C horizon.

“Want to move in?” You broke the silence. Spence looked down at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Haven’t I basically done that already?” He asked.

“I mean yeah, but you’re still paying rent for your old place.”

“I would say I forgot, but I have an eidetic memory.” You giggled and Spencer grinned, happy to have made you laugh.

“So, what do you say?”

“Statistically couples who move in together have a higher chance of a successful marriage, whereas couples who get married and then move in together have a much higher divorce rate dependent on the age of the couple. So yes, I will move in.” Much to Peanut Butter’s chagrin, you sat up and turned around, locking Spencer in a passionate kiss. Before things could get too heated, Peanut Butter got jealous and swatted at your cheek. You and Spencer broke apart and looked at the small black cat, who just tilted his head.

“You are such a little asshole sometimes.” You said, staring him down. He stared back before turning around, sassily swishing his tail in your face before pausing at the door, and looking at you. Your jaw dropped at the attitude and Spencer let him inside, turning his attention back to you.

“I forgot, he’s so possessive over me.” Spencer grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Shut up.” You grabbed your mug and headed inside, shutting the door behind you and leaving Spencer laughing on the porch.

You left your empty mug in the sink and climbed into bed, Peanut Butter and Spencer joining you moments later. Spencer put the cat down on the bed and climbed into bed beside you, pulling you closer as Peanut Butter settled in the middle. Spencer placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and fell asleep with a smile on his face. Nothing more than a calm, domestic life with you was anything he ever wanted.

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julyarchives · 3 years

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Watch Me || (M)

→ A/n: Hui x Female Reader x Shinwon

→ Genre: Smut

→ Words: 2.8K

→ Contains: implied poly relationship; open relationship; threesome sort of; blowjob; consensual voyeurism.

→ A/n: Better late than never, here it is this 🥵🥵🥵 story heheh. Special thanks to the anon who requested it! We hope you all like it <3

It wasn't a secret that you had a crush on Hui. In fact, everyone knew this a long time ago. So when you started dating Shinwon everyone was completely shocked. Even Hui.

Before anything happened between you and Shinwon you made sure to tell him that having a crush didn't mean having feelings for someone. Hui was nice and hot, you wanted to hook up with him one day but that meant nothing when it came to loving someone and Shinwon was the one who actually stole your heart. He too was nice and hot but something about him made your insides twist and butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

Thankfully Shinwon got it, he understood that loving someone didn't make everyone else ugly and unattractive and that he too had a crush on someone else and just like you he'd hook up with them if he could. You both laughed about it and jokingly agreed on only hooking up with your crushes if the other was present. Shinwon had a blast whenever you met with his long-time friends since Hui was one of them. He'd keep teasing you even if it was for your ears only.

Hui was thrown back when you started dating Shinwon because he too knew about your crush, even if he didn't do anything about it. He wasn't a close friend but he thought you were nice and pretty as he told you once. So when he saw you with your boyfriend he was always slightly confused.

You weren't always with the boys so when you showed up it was always special. Tonight was no different. Everyone gathered to have a pre-party and get wasted before going out, so you wouldn't need to pay an absurd amount for drinks at bars. You decided to not drink that much and Shinwon followed you, only casually accepting one or two shots.

Needless to say, a couple of hours later and everyone was already pretty drunk and caught up on their own shit. You and Shinwon were lost in your little bubble. Your boyfriend was looking especially hot tonight, probably had taken his time dressing up to go out, but you just wanted to rip that pretty shirt off of him. The alcohol probably had something to do with the urge to just grab him and kiss him with all you got.

You were still in public, though probably no one was sparing a glance at you two, so you just made out lazily on the couch. The thing is that when you two start kissing, you always can’t stop yourself. Shinwon was a good kisser, and you couldn’t get enough of him. The kiss started getting hungrier, your hands messed around his hair when his’ hooked around your hips and pulled you up to straddle him. Normally, you would be embarrassed by a hot make-out session in public, but for some reason it made you feel sexier, arousal already pooling in your panties with the idea of being watched.

Shinwon himself seemed to be showing you off, grabbing your ass and slightly lifting your shirt to explore the skin on your back. He trailed wet kisses along your jaw up to your ear, nibbling the lobe and getting a breathy moan out of you. You felt his grin, knowing he was very well aware that he hit your sweet spot.

“Looks like your crush is watching us, baby” he whispered for you to hear, giggling secretly.

You turned your head just enough to see Hui on your peripheral vision, smirking at you two;

“Don’t worry, I bet he is too drunk to remember anything in half an hour like everyone else is.” you answered, biting your lip.

“I’m sober enough to hear you two, and please don’t stop because of me” you were interrupted, heart racing as soon as Hui’s voice hit your ears. His grin grew wider.

“Give him a show, baby girl” Shinwon hummed lowly and pulled you closer.

You involuntarily grinded your hips when he tightened his grip and were pleased to feel his semi-hard through the thin fabric of your shorts. He tugged on your hair, exposing your neck to him, and took his time sucking on the skin, and you were sure you would regret letting him mark you, the trouble of covering that for work on Monday would be a pain in the ass, but right now it felt too good for you to care. It was also hard to keep yourself from letting noises fall from your lips, as every touch of his sent shivers through your whole body, but you tried your hardest to make sure he was the only one to hear it.

When his lips found yours’ again, his hand went down to your ass, guiding you to grind on him again, the friction giving you some relief and this time the moan that escaped you was loud enough that you were sure Hui, who had his eyes glued on you all the time, heard it.

Shinwon noticed it too, and a chuckle vibrated on his throat.

“Look at him, just can’t help himself seeing how hot you are and how good I make you feel” he said to you.

And then you saw what he was talking about. Hui was palming the barely-visible-but-still-there tent on his jeans, eyeing up and down and biting his lips.

It took you by surprise when Shinwon took you off of him and got up, holding your hand and guiding you to the bedroom. Part of you felt a very small pinch of disappointment, wanting to show yourself off to the man you crushed. But your boyfriend was full of surprises, and one of them was when he stopped on his tracks, and looked back at Hui, enunciating:

“I’m not going to ask you twice to come with us.”

Hui lifted one eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at the proposal, but didn’t waste any time following you two.

Shinwon didn’t bother closing the door, throwing you on the bed as soon as you entered the room, making you yelp in surprise. He climbed up in between your legs, attacking your lips with determination. Your legs instinctively crossed around his hips, making him grind, and you took pleasure in the friction.

You only remembered Hui when you heard a small gasp leave him, who was watching you two while leaned against the now-closed door.

Shinwon climbed off of you and commanded you to sit in a bossy tone that had you squirming in anticipation.

“Come here, baby” he said, monitoring for you to get closer. He tugged the waistband of your shorts “you know what to do with these.”

You got up and, facing Hui, shimmied out of your bottoms, leaving the lacy underwear on. You watched his eyes travel down your body with lust as Shinwon, standing behind you, pulled your shirt off. You felt his naked torso pressed against your back while he kissed your shoulder.

His hand cupped your breasts over the bra and you didn’t miss the way Hui’s breath quickened. You closed your eyes to enjoy Shinwon’s touches, feeling like you could melt under his palms.

“kneel down for me” he whispered.

You turned around and followed his instructions as he sat on the edge of the bed, supporting himself with his hand behind him. You kneeled in between his legs and grazed your nails on his abdomen before undoing the button and unzipping his jeans. You took it off of him along the underwear, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, fully hard this time.

You licked your palm, your eyes locked on his, and grabbed his member, jerking it teasingly slow, giving small licks to the tip.

“Look how hard I already am for you, baby, I don’t think we have time for teasing.” he caressed your head, taking the opportunity to hold your hair into a make-do ponytail.

“In a hurry?” you chuckled.

A hiss left his lips instead of an answer and you sucked the tip of his dick in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and already tasting the leaking pre-cum. You knew alcohol made people hornier and therefore they lasted less than usual, so you quit the teasing before it was too much and lowered your head, trying to fit the most of his length inside.

You hollow your cheeks and sucked, your hand moving close to the base where you couldn't fit in your mouth. Shinwon moaned wantonly and warned you about not lasting longer. You'd chuckle if you could, knowing your boyfriend all too well. Bobbing your head up and down, falling into an easy rhythm, your own breath sped up at the feeling of his dick twitching inside of your mouth, your tongue tracing his veins.

The room was hot, three different labored breaths mixed together made you feel even wetter. Knowing Hui was watching you sucking Shinwon off made you moan around his dick. You couldn't see Hui but heard his intake of breath whenever Shinwon moaned a bit too needy, so you knew he was watching intently.

Shinwon came without warning, his seed sliding down your throat making you almost choke. Your boyfriend didn't relent, hips moving with your head, moaning softly at how you swallowed every drop. He was watching you closely through heavy eyes and you were loving it. Soon enough he came back from his high and you opened your mouth, showing him how you truly swallowed and he groaned.

"I think Hui is a bit neglected, baby". Shinwon spoke and you froze. "Go show him some attention".

Shinwon was spent, laying back on the bed but still watching you closely. You turned your head and stared at Hui. He was a mess, heavy breathing and palming his bulge. Upon being put on a spotlight, Hui only walked into the room, still slightly open, and stood next to Shinwon, on the side of the bed. You followed his movements and only stopped a foot away from him.

"Hi", you said, giggling like a girl with a crush, which, well, you did.

"Hey you", he said right back, hands quickly finding your waist.

"You're too clothed for her, Hui", Shinwon said from the bed and you chuckled, watching your boyfriend move on the bed to watch you two.

Hui laughed and moved to take his shirt off. You took the opportunity to get his pants open and down on the floor. After that you both moved quickly, not quite knowing who reached first but kissing hard and desperate, tongues fighting for dominance. Hui's hands expertly opened your bra and you took it off, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your breasts.

You laid on the bed on your own accord and Hui followed, breaking the kiss only to position you and himself better, laying next to Shinwon, your head close to his hand. Hui took his underwear before moving on top of you and you almost pouted. You wanted to actually see him and touch him but the alcohol and the dim lights made it all too difficult.

It was all a bit too hazy and tipsy, your bodies moving together while you kissed, his dick leaving a wet patch on your panties even though they were already soaked. It was too overwhelming and Shinwon touched your head gently, caressing the top of it before whispering something to Hui who broke the kiss to nod and take your panties off.

"Let him take care of you, babe", Shinwon spoke to you when you looked from Hui to him.

Hui stopped to touch your folds, fingers moving easily because of how slick you were. Rubbing your clit fast, Hui moved on top of you and kissed you once more. You were enjoying it too much to notice Hui aligning his dick to your entrance. When you felt it moving inside, you only felt pleasure, you were too wet and Shinwon's gentle caress on your head was keeping you grounded, just as Hui's kiss was.

When he was fully inside, he didn't waste any time and moved, a bit too sloppy for what you thought but it was perfect. You knew it was the alcohol and your body reacted in the same way, sloppily following his rhythm until both of you found a good one and it became perfect. You moved in sync with Hui and only pulled him closer, hands crawling his sides and back.

You were moaning loudly and freely, the feeling of finally having someone you were so attracted to was too much, the alcohol and Shinwon right next to you only adding fuel to the fire. Shinwon chuckled and Hui followed, a silent conversation going on above you. Suddenly you felt Shinwon moving and soon enough two of his fingers were in your open mouth. Your immediate reaction was to close your mouth around the digits and suck.

"Ah, that's it. You're being too loud, babe". Shinwon spoke and you groaned around his fingers. "Keep sucking them like that and I'll have you on your knees for me again".

You moaned as much as you could, his words making your belly heat up even more. Looking at Hui, you put on a show of sucking Shinwon's fingers as much as you could. You were still a bit loud and Hui only whispered "fuck, Shinwon, do it right", before you could barely move your mouth. Shinwon was still keeping his fingers inside your mouth but now he was pressing your tongue down, successfully quieting any loud noise you could make.

"Tsk, I tried to be nice, babe. You made me look soft in front of Hui. Can't have that".

You groaned but the sound died on Shinwon's fingers, making you groan even more, clenching at how hot this whole thing was. You were thrown to the edge when on top of all that, you watched Hui bite his lips while staring at your mouth.

"Wish I was the one doing that", Hui spoke between heavy breaths, "I bet your mouth feels so good sucking me".

It was all it took for you to explode, white lights flashing behind your eyelids and you held Hui closer than before, body trembling beneath him. Your mouth closed around Shinwon's fingers, your moans turning into gibberish and you even a bit of drool escaping because of the make-do gag.

Hui fucked you through your orgasm, moaning as his own high approached. His voice asking Shinwon to not let go of your mouth made your orgasm last more or even come back after seconds, you weren't sure. You just knew that you felt absurdly exposed and you loved it. Hui came minutes after that, emptying himself inside of you and you made a grunting noise at the feeling, not quite having the strength to moan anymore.

Hui got out of you and sat on his heels as Shinwon helped you move to snuggle him and make space for Hui to lay next to you.

"That was something else", Shinwon was the first one to say.

"Hm, it was", Hui answered, still out of breath.

"Yeah, it definitely was", you laughed, sitting up after getting seconds of rest.

"Thanks for being so cool with all this, dude", Hui said to Shinwon and he only nodded.

"In fact, this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for our trust, you know. So as long as you don't break any boundaries, we're fine", Shinwon spoke and held you closer.

"I get it. I truly do", Hui watched you and you fought back the urge to kiss him. "It is really nice, what you two have".

"Honestly, it's amazing. If it wasn't for our communication, friendship, and trust, I think Shinwon would have given up on me already", you answered, giving your boyfriend an affectionate kiss.

"I would never", Shinwon made a theatrical move of outrage and you and Hui laughed. "Nah, it's fine. Y/N had the hots for you since forever".

"Oh I know. Just never thought of hitting on her because it was clear you were into her".

"Come on, guys. Love and attraction aren't always together, you know?", you chimed in and they chuckled.

"That's obvious now to me", Hui spoke and gave a quick kiss on the forehead. "I still wanna go to the party tho, will you guys come?".

"If everyone is up, sure", Shinwon shrugged.

"Maybe we can go the three of us…?", you asked.

Hui and Shinwon watched you for a few seconds and you got a bit scared of crossing a line you shouldn't have until Shinwon kissed you on the lips and got up, holding his hand out to you. You took it as Hui got up on his own and suddenly you felt very warm.

"As friends, right?" Shinwon asked, but you could see clearly his playful manners and you laughed.

"As my boyfriend and his friend!", you answered and Hui walked past you with his clothes in hand.

"I'm clearly the boyfriend now", he said.

The three of you laughed as Shinwon ran after him in a small room, butt naked and you sat back on the bed to watch the scene roll. Having Shinwon as a boyfriend meant always getting a pleasant surprise.

#ksmutclub #hui #shinwon #smut #vouyeurism #pentagon hui #pentagon imagine #pentagon shinwon #pentagon scenarios #kpop pentagon #pentagon #pentagon imagines #pentagon fanfic #pentagon smut #hui smut #shinwon smut #ko shinwon #lee hwitaek #lee hoetaek

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kinder-writes-surprises · 4 years

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Risking It

Anonymous Asked: Hello! Thank you for creating this Temple of sin. May I ask an scenario of Mirio and Katsuki (separately) having sex in public with their s/o? As kinky and dirty as you can 😍😍

Sure thing hun! I tried something different with this request, if you notice it, send me a message to tell me if I should practice this style or go back to the style I was using before, I would love to hear from you all! Also, I hope this was good enough for you….

- Mod Eclipse

Word Count: 593

Content Warning: this work contains agoraphilia

Mirio:

Mirio smiled politely at the people in the library as they walked past the two of you, making it almost impossible for you to enjoy the current feeling of your boyfriend’s dick inside of you, filling you to the brim, his thrusts slow and discreet, allowing you two to get away with the task you were indulging in.

“M-Mirio…t-they’re going to…to notice” You whispered back at him softly, biting your lip to hide the soft and needy moan that he had managed to drag from your lips with a single, well-aimed thrust of his hips.

“Only if you moan loud enough for them to hear” Mirio whispered into your ear huskily, nipping at your earlobe in a playful manner, his hands moving to your hips, helping him thrust into you more, still remaining unseen by the eyes around them.

You weren’t quite sure why but having Mirio fill you up like this, in such a crowded place, made each thrust feel just that much better, leaving you a panting and whining mess, your hips bucking ever so slightly.

“You look so beautiful like this (Name), I can’t wait to feel you orgasm around my dick” Mirio teased softly, thrusting his hips up into you roughly the moment no one was looking, causing you to gasp and bite into your bottom lip hard, drawing the tiniest amount of blood; god that had felt amazing.

“M-Mirio…” You whispered weakly, moving your hips to meet his thrusts slowly, leaning back into his chest as your orgasm built up in your stomach until finally, your orgasm rocked through your body, making you whimper out his name feverishly, unable to control yourself completely.

Mirio let out a quiet groan, burying his face into your shoulder as he buried himself inside of you, releasing his seed while your walls clenched around him perfectly, milking him.

Katsuki:

“Fuck, you’re mine! You hear me dumbass?! All mine!” Katsuki growled low into your ear as he slammed up into you roughly, the condom already in place while his hand pinned your wrists to the alleyway wall behind you, leaving you practically helpless, not that you minded too much.

“A-ah, Katsuki, we’ll get caught…” You moaned breathlessly, your hips moving, trying to keep up with the hellish pace your boyfriend had set for you.

“So fucking what? I’ll blast ‘em away if they look at you! You got it?!” Katsuki bit out, his free hand grabbing onto your boob roughly, light explosions going off in that hand, making you gasp and buck your hips, whimpering out your agreement, unable to voice any other thoughts apart from the pleasure he was currently putting you through.

“That’s what I fucking thought” He muttered, biting along your neck roughly as he continued to torture your tender flesh with those light explosions that felt just a little too good, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm, heat filling your entire body, almost too much to bare.

“Say my name damn it!” Katsuki demanded, his thrusts growing more and more wild with each passing second, telling you that he too was drawing close to his orgasm.

“K-Katsuki, Katsuki!” You cried out, arching your back as heat flooded your body, your orgasm rocking through you hard and causing your walls to clamp down around Katsuki, driving him over the edge, causing him to release his seed, the explosions from his palm increasing as his control slipped, your name spilling from his lips along with a string of curses and praise at how well you took his dick.

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hardkinkbardkink · 4 years

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My dude I am having the worst morning. I was getting take out for breakfast when I misstepped and sprained my ankle, so now I’m sitting in the urgent care waiting to make sure it isn’t broken. And I dropped my food :( But! From my disaster comes an idea! Jaskier injured himself, and took something to help with the pain. It makes him all loose limbed and easy,,, and Geralt can’t help but take advantage of his drugged state. I feel like I’ve submitted this before tho >_> ignore me if I have-🐼

i am. So Fucking Sorry it took so long to get a prompt fill up, and even more sorry it took so bloody long to answer an ask from my very favourite anon. honestly love it's been so long im sure you're fine now, fuck im awful

anyway i absolutely hate every word of this (just what i'd written, the prompt was lovely) but i invested so much time in it i ought to post it anyway oof

what's the opposite of aftercare? would it be called beforecare, if geralt takes care of jaskier and then proceeds to ride him hard and put him away wet? we'll go with that x

***

"Bard."

Jaskier turns to face him with an easy smile, though his eyes look somewhere beyond Geralt, fixed on a spot above his shoulder.

"Geralt," he says softly.

It's the little things that make Geralt frown in--worry worry worry--confusion. How Jaskier sits on the bed, slumped against the headboard as if he's a ragdoll thrown carelessly to the side, his usually immaculate posture forgone. How his eyes are only half-open, dull and unfocused. How Geralt's name on his lips doesn't sound quite right.

Geralt's nose itches at the faint, metallic scent of blood. It isn't as aggressive as it should be, had it been spilled on clothes or smeared over skin, but rather--

"What did you do."

He watches Jaskier's head roll from side to side against the wall before he sways forward, chin tucked to his chest. A muscle twitches in Geralt's jaw.

"Jaskier," he says sternly, barely masking his concern. Annoyance, that is.

"Got--got in a fight," Jaskier tells him, lips barely moving. "Think I--I'm broken? But you're here. Now. Geralt."

He smiles again, weak and unconvincing.

Broken. The word echos in Geralt's ears, bouncing around his brain, until he almost sees it spelled out, dripping red.

"Can I--hm. Can I see?" He gets his voice softer, now. Clearly Jaskier is in some sort of peril. Anger would be counterproductive, no matter how badly Geralt wants to put a fist through every one of the drunks downstairs, part their flesh with his blade.

"Y'don't--you. Don't have to." The way Jaskier grits his teeth and focuses on keeping the slur out of his speech is anything but reassuring. "Seen the--uh, the healer. Got me some--something. For pain."

This time, when Jaskier sways, he tips all the way to lay on his side, nearly hitting his head on a sharp edge of the low table pushed close to the bed. Geralt is next to him in a flash, leaning over his limp body, focusing for a moment on nothing but the steady, if somewhat slow, thud of his heart.

Geralt finds himself frantically undoing Jaskier's doublet before he can think about it. He doesn't like the way Jaskier winces when he pulls the thing off, so he keeps his touch gentle for the chemise underneath.

"Fuck. Fuck."

He didn't think--but then he did, maybe, because Jaskier always insists he doesn't need the healer, doesn't need help, doesn't need anything just so Geralt won't think he's weak. So he knew it had to be bad, this, but--

The sight of Jaskier's chest and abdomen stained ink-black with large, brooding bruises still makes his blood run cold. He touches one, finds it swollen and tender.

"Least they haven't--kicked in my teeth," Jaskier jokes, carrying the silly tune over his words.

One of the bruises seems to run low over Jaskier's hip, so Geralt unbuttons his breeches, too, slides them off revealing more injuries than he would ever think could fit on his bard.

He nearly reaches for his sword, ready to cut down every filthy bastard he can find in the inn.

Instead, he closes his eyes and gets a fucking grip.

Geralt's kit is stocked full with potions that could kill Jaskier if he as much as sniffed them, and an equal amount of mild to potent healing herbs that Geralt wouldn't admit he keeps just for Jaskier. He works quickly, picking the right ones, crushing them between his fingers rather than bother with a pestle. It feels good to crush something, frankly.

He overheats the water in his haste, makes it evaporate entirely and the clay mug shatter when he blasts it with too much Igni.

"Witcher magic," Jaskier slurs, moving slowly to lay flat on the bed.

Geralt steeps the herbs in some fresh water, keeps his calm even when he has to force it down Jaskier's throat. He exhales sharply, sitting down at the edge of the straw-stuffed mattress.

He should put Jaskier to sleep. It'd make the healing faster, entirely eliminate the pain that's merely dulled by whatever drug he'd taken.

Yet Geralt hesitates. It's a lot of bruising. A lot of internal bleeding. Some bone fractures, he wagers, though he'd have to feel to check. Privately, selfishly, Geralt thinks he doesn't want to forfeit the time with his bard if somehow this is the last of it.

It isn't.

Still, Jaskier's quiet humming is reassuring. Grounding.

Geralt spots a small pouch on the floor nearby, half-full of a fine, blonde powder. He sniffs it carefully, nods to himself, and dissolves some of it in more warm water. It won't mend broken bones, but perhaps they can get through most of the healing process without Jaskier feeling the brunt of it. This time, his bard drinks eagerly.

"Oh," he sighs after a minute. "Oh, 's nice."

Geralt almost huffs out a laugh. Of course it's nice when he's high out of his mind.

"Does it still hurt?"

Jaskier closes his eyes. Shakes his head.

"'s nice," he repeats.

Belatedly, Geralt realises it'd be the decent thing to do if he protected Jaskier's modesty in some way, no matter how little of it his bard possesses in the first place.

He reaches for a blanket, but his hand only hovers above it.

Seeing Jaskier's body like this still makes rage bubble hot and viscous in his chest, and yet--

Geralt breathes calmly, steadily, like he does when he meditates. Jaskier will be fine, because he has to be. Because Geralt's already failed him once, letting any harm come to him, and he won't do it again by letting the little bastard die. He'll be fine, and the brief, inexcusable panic retracts its claws from around Geralt's throat. Strangely, it leaves him with anything but the clarity he'd expect.

He blinks, and suddenly the bruises, the marks of violence seep away from Jaskier's skin. Suddenly, it's just Jaskier there, his bard; bare and pliant and so out of it he wouldn't notice anything amiss if Geralt were to--

There's a charge in the air that pops, crackles, fizzles. Grows and grows and thunders.

Geralt's palm rests gently on Jaskier's thigh, where the skin is still pale and unblemished.

Jaskier moans.

"Feels good."

It does feel good, is the thing. Something dark and shameful crawls up to the very back of Geralt's tongue, threatens to steal his voice and make it its own. Geralt stifles it, but only barely. He slides his hand up, in morbid curiosity, and presses his fingers into a bruise at Jaskier's hip. It gets him another moan, a happy sigh.

"Geralt."

And it's like a siren song when Jaskier calls for him, like he'd gripped Geralt's soul and torn it out to have for himself. It isn't as though he can't easily overpower the bard on any given day, hunt him and pin him down and take whatever pleases him in spite of any struggle. But there's something different about this, about the sheer helplessness that Jaskier's fallen into. About the lack of consequence if Geralt were to ravish him, ruin him. If he were to press his own marks into Jaskier's battered skin, fuck him as roughly as he'd ever wanted, not hold back--

Geralt lunges forward, hands roaming over soft, hot skin, lips messily against Jaskier's. It's barely a kiss, more a slide of wet, needy lips, but Geralt nearly goes mad even at that, at the feeling of Jaskier's open mouth letting him in.

"Does it hurt?" Geralt asks again dumbly, already knowing the answer. The beast inside him roars.

Jaskier keens, a faint smile never leaving his parted lips.

Geralt doesn't know, suddenly, how he finds himself holding Jaskier's legs spread, though perhaps it doesn't matter. He looks down at Jaskier's soft prick and lower, lower, lower, until he finds his slack, relaxed hole. Feverishly, he considers the fact that Jaskier doesn't seem to feel any pain, like this. He could--but he could--

When he lets go of Jaskier's thighs, they fall heavily on the bed, still apart enough for Geralt to see all of him, all of the hidden, filthy parts that Geralt aches to claim.

He wraps a hand tightly around Jaskier's prick and Jaskier whines long and high, his eyes half-open and unseeing. Geralt leans down, suddenly hungry for it, and puts his mouth on his bard with a need that borders on desperation. His cock stays soft and delicious on Geralt's tongue, and it's a sensation much more heady than he ever would've expected. Distantly, Geralt wonders if he could get Jaskier to come like this, without getting hard at all.

He massages the flesh with his tongue, stuffs himself silly as he can. Jaskier mumbles something when Geralt moans around him, feeling far too needy.

There's saliva pooling in Jaskier's lap, drying on Geralt's chin. He bobs his head faster, sneaks his hand down to rub circles behind Jaskier's delicate balls, until he feels him twitch and pulse and finally, blissfully, drool thick seed at the back of Geralt's throat.

Geralt pulls away swiftly so he can watch it spill, sticky-white on Jaskier's soft, bruised-black belly. It keeps throbbing in his hand for a long time, moans and whimpers falling from Jaskier's parted lips without restraint. Geralt presses his nose to the underside of Jaskier's jaw, catching his breath and catching his bard's scent. He drags his fingers through the spend slipping over Jaskier's skin, pooling in his navel, and he--

"Guh--G'ralt?"

And there isn't a hint of hurt in his voice, in his face, in his scent, and Geralt groans as he pushes two come-slick fingers into Jaskier's pliant body with no resistance.

Geralt's composure snaps in twain like a particularly fragile twig.

Later, Geralt won't recognise himself in the tremor that sets into his hands as he paws at Jaskier's skin, or the undignified way he pries open his own trousers, or the roar that rumbles in his chest when he presses forward, in, sinks into Jaskier deeper than he has any right to be.

It's a heady sensation, the way Jaskier's body parts around him, loose and relaxed and so very open. Geralt nearly comes on the spot, has to grit his teeth and suck in a harsh breath and even that stands barely a chance when Jaskier moans so prettily.

But a mad thought comes to him unbidden; that he doesn't need to slow, or hold back. Because it's hours before Jaskier becomes lucid; days, perhaps, and until then--

Well, until then he's nothing more than a warm body for Geralt to drain his balls into.

With a roar springing forth from his throat, Geralt snaps his hips forward, ruts into Jaskier with a single-minded fervour, his one purpose to fuck, come, breed. Stake his claim and have it stay.

"G--Geralt, Geralt--" Jaskier whimpers on a weak breath, though his eyes stay cloudy and unfocused. Geralt sees his hand twitch at his side, like he's trying to lift it but finds the weight too cumbersome.

Geralt bares his teeth and sets them in Jaskier's shoulder, harsher than he ever would normally. The skin gives beneath the sharp points of his canines.

It's less fucking and more a deep, desperate grind when Geralt doesn't want to leave the intoxicating heat of Jaskier's body even for a moment. He mouths at the stubble on Jaskier's jaw, hastens his pace and whines like a wounded pup when he spills so very deep inside his bard he's sure it could catch.

His cock doesn't get a chance to grow soft, though a delicious pain edges into his pleasure. Geralt sits back on his haunches, pulls Jaskier's hips into his lap with a strong grip. Keeps him spread open and filled to the brim and when he pounds his delicious little hole again, Geralt revels in the way his seed gets fucked even deeper. He wants to pump Jaskier so full he wakes up swollen and heavy with it, wants to watch the bruises fade from his taut stomach and see it rounded with Geralt's ownership.

Jaskier keeps mumbling quietly, every one of Geralt's thrusts knocking a moan, a sigh, a slurred word out of his chest. It's maddening, to finally have the thing he'd quietly, privately ached for without ever fully acknowledging it--and to have it so wholly, so--

"Fuck."

Realisation seems to come over him in waves, and suddenly Geralt wants. Wants so much, wants things he'd never given mind to before. Wants to have Jaskier and keep him, do horrible, unspeakable things to his bard. Beat him black and blue and nurse him tenderly back to health.

"Fuck."

Geralt strokes Jaskier's limp prick almost reverently, thinks about wrapping it up in ribbons and ropes and having Jaskier beg to come.

Another time.

Another time, because Geralt's had a taste of something beautiful and sick and forbidden, and he'll never let it slips through his fingers.

His pace grows erratic once more, and once more he finds his teeth wandering. They settle snugly at the side of Jaskier's throat, clamped so tightly he can feel the sluggish thud of his bard's subdued heartbeat.

Jaskier moans weakly and Geralt sees red when he spills again, his balls slapping heavily against Jaskier's body in a final thrust. He strips Jaskier's prick viciously, then, until his bard comes, his spasming hole milking Geralt's oversensitive cock in a raw shock of ecstasy.

There's blood on his teeth and a thrumming in his ears and Geralt collapses on top of Jaskier, still buried in him. He lays a gentle kiss to the top of Jaskier's head, but by then his bard is unconscious.

All the better, really.

#cw injury #cw noncon #nihil novi #the time has come for me to overshare in the tags #1. was gonna get this up a week ago but then i didn't & uni started & killed every bit of my soul #honestly why did i choose a major i didn't want in the slightest?#who knows #2. my flatmate sadly does not appear to be gay though he offered me some weed one night & we had a very nice evening #he's still so fit it pains me to exist near him.#life is not going great my lovelies x

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dboliklover · 4 years

Text

Tainting the Angel so that she falls - Laito

Warnings: Dub-con (This is Laito), heavy religious imagery/contrasted with sin, fucking in a church - mentions and mild NSFW. Disclaimer; I am not responsible for your mental health. If any of the above warnings trigger you; do not read.

Laito:

Amongst the angelic circles, you were revered for your outstanding purity and virtue.

The type of angel that made all others pale in comparison with both beauty and divine excellence.

Not naive nor innocent; but truly, undoubtedly holy.

Whispers in the clouds proclaimed you “The Truest Light Of God”, and your consistent purity and unwavering devotion made you rise high in the ranks of angels.

You had seen all there was to see; bloodthirst, horrors of war, abusive lovers and cruel parents who harmed their own offspring. All the vile deeds of humanity - you had witnessed.

Most of those your age and experience felt bitterness towards humans.

But you did not blame them.

You did not hate them.

They were lost lambs, led so astray by their ambitions.

Not to mention the disgusting amount of demonic entities - vampires, werewolves, all their elk - polluted human minds to commit atrocities.

It was filthy. These dark beings were filthy.

And so you had made it your mission to rid the world of them one by one; and thus far, you had been successful.

Dozens of thousands of monstrous beings fell to your divine power and strategic brilliance.

You can’t have peace without a war, and a war this was; a war against creatures impure.

Your task was simple, yet so difficult. It seemed for every vampire you slew, two new fledgelings were made.

Hungry work, but you weren’t just some low-ranking angel. You were pure and secure in your holiness, so you knew nothing could ever get you to fall.

You were never going to fall.

You were not weak-willed like some other angels - you were resilient and diligent and faithful - so faithful - to your cause.

Everyone else believed you would never fall, too.

But you did.

How the mighty have fallen.

Looking back at the situation in hindsight, you cursed your own folly and the hubris that had allowed you to be tricked into the filthiest of sin.

Lust.

He was a sly one, you admit; you’d met ones like him before but there was something so specific about Sakamaki Laito that made it difficult to focus as you should have.

Perhaps you should have struck him when you had the chance instead of allowing him to tangle you into his web of darkness - should have slaughtered him into pieces before he had the chance to become your downfall.

You were killing some low-level ghouls and vampires in the same city in which he lived when you first met.

He was a smug vampyr - agitated you, teased you, played with you as though you didn’t have the ability to destroy him where he stood.

Not destroying him then and there - feeding into his game - that was your greatest mistake.

From then on he seemed to find you often, taunting you as you killed loose ghoul after ghoul, and fighting with you whenever he did.

You hated admitting it then, and you hated admitting it now but you grew to enjoy your run-ins with him.

It was wrong of you, but it brought excitement to fight with someone who was actually a relatively good fighter.

But you didn’t even think he took it to be a fight; he always acted as if you were just having a dangerous dance with blasts and angel blades.

You thought him foolish at first, but now you see that you’d been foolish all along.

From the start it had been Laito’s intent to make you think him a fool; to lower your defences against him.

And, with time, you started to - dare you say - have fun fighting with him, sinking into the same flow of almost-dance-to-the-death.

He got you off-guard enough to strike you down, falling on your bottom in a dark alleyway as you gasped and stared up at him.

Then it hit you; the moon was full, and he was a pureblood.

A pureblood with demonic blood flowing within him.

Desperate and afraid of what he’d try to do to you, you threw your angel blade at him to buy you some time, running into the nearest church.

The humans believed that churches would keep them safe in their folklore; now you wished that you had the chance to test that theory before. Why you never tried to observe whether this worked or not in your millennia of existence, you did not know, but it was your undoing.

Because he laughed, mocking you as you adorned yourself with crosses and rosaries you found, telling him to stay back - full moon or not, you were a warrior of the heavens.

His mocking laughter felt like acid on your skin.

You hated it, you hated it, you hated it, you hated it.

The full moon was the time of beasts; your powers were lessened on the mortal realm during this lunar phase.

Your mistake had been being so distracted by Laito in general, plagued with thoughts of him, that you did not pay attention to the lunar cycle.

And you paid the price for it when he approached you, throwing his fedora elsewhere in the church, running a hand through his crimson locks.

You were frozen in place, despising yourself for the fact your body was hot and felt so lecherous. So disgusting - to feel arousal for a monster.

But when he pinned you down on the altar, ignoring your weak struggling and pleads for him not to kill you (you were sure he would) you could feel wetness forming in your core. What the fuck was wrong with you?

He kissed you into submission, and your mind started feeling blank.

You submitted to his lust.

And you allowed yourself, under the spell of his excellent seduction and the never-before-experienced pleasure he made you feel in thousands of years in which you remained a chaste virgin, to be taken by him.

The sensations, the heat, the electricity as you held tightly onto his body, latching onto him with your limbs, moaning his name and sweating as you cried out in pleasure - it was all too much to resist.

But what had sealed your fate was the moment he filled you with his miserable seed, flowing inside of you until there was no remaining room within your core, and a mix of his cum and your juices fell down from your thighs.

Once the lust cleared, you panicked, but it was too late.

You sinned.

And so, you fell.

Shu: Click here for Shu’s scenario

Reiji: Click here for Reiji’s scenario

Ayato: Click here Ayato’s scenario

Kanato: WIP

Subaru: WIP

- Mod Rozalia

Me? Having a schedule? At long last!? Let’s hope so!

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cullxtheherd · 3 years

Text

@oorah22 asked for: a Nick Rye centric piece!

Happy Merry JiNgLe yaAy?? here it is! I hope u like it ksdfjksjfdf- also, a song: [🆇]

Ducking under the ajar side panel to the motor of his plane, Nick blindly wipes grease laden fingers against his coveralls; they’re a worse-for-wear situation and he isn’t fussed about them anyways- he knows Kim will get the stains out if they aren’t ready to hit the bin. Taking a few steps back he tries to wrap his head around the issue he is having with Carmina: he’s flushed the lines, reseated the new carburetor and still she’d been running like a bucket of bolts.

He isn’t entirely sure what she’s up to but he sure can hear one hell of a ruckus coming from the house, even out here in the hangar. Since the Seed brothers had arrived in town things had steadily gotten worse around these parts- his hometown, to the point he’d taken to keeping a gun and small store of ammunition within reach at all times. Gripping the AR-CL he checks the safety before readying the chamber.

Rounding Kim’s vintage Mustang he takes his time, not seeing any vehicles in the horseshoe curved driveway gives him no cause for hurry. Setting the safety once he has peered through the window of his front door he leans the rifle in the seat of an adirondack chair. Nick grew up in this home, lived in Hope County all of his life and navigating the floorplan silently is one of his favorite, lesser known talents.

“It has to be here somewhere-” Pulling the drawer out under the stove she curses, “Of all the fucking- NICK!”

Kim is a strong, reliable, sensible woman, but under the stress of pregnancy and rushing, unruly hormones? She is rash and annoyed and easy to anger and hasn’t seen her feet since John-Fucking-Seed-Knows-When and she is certain that Nicholas Rye- her endearing, annoying, everloving, child of a husband has stolen away the baster.

It’s God-blasted quarter to FIVE and the guests for their tastefully modest holiday party are set to arrive soon and without a properly browned, basted, SEASONED, T U R K E Y her day will, obviously, be absolutely ruined.

“What’s-a matter darlin’?” Feeling like he knows his wife pretty well he grips the long, bulbous tool she has set out on the pop-out ledge between the kitchen and living room, “You lose something?

“I-” Ready to turn tail and give him hell she is immediately silenced, hands flying up to her lips to calm the swell of profanity she can feel bubbling up and, for the seventh time this afternoon, she wells up, sobbing into her palms.

Without a word to pass between them he relinquishes the turkey baster to the nearby countertop and rushes to embrace his wife, “You need some help or something, honey?”

“Oh, Nick, I-” She barely manages through hearty, walloping sobs.

“Shh-shh, baby it’s okay,” He can feel her trying to speak, chest heaving against his own and he drags a slow, soothing hand against the top of her partially shaven head. “Whatever it is,” He interrupts himself with his lips against the crest of her fuzzy, prickling scalp, “It don’t matter, not a lick.”

A few, brief moments of whimpering silence pass before he feels the need to say something to try and lift her spirits. “If you want I could always give that turkey a talkin’ to- a real what-for,” Although he can tell she is still upset, shoulders lightly shaking under the brace of his arms, “It’ll baste itself when I’m done, I swear it Kimmi!” The way she smacks at his chest has him chuckling, “What-” She laughs too, “No? Come on, now where’s the fun in that!”

Though she grips tightly to him, laughing as she tries to hold him back, he approaches the oven, “Now listen here, you!”

“Nick, no- don’t ope-” Kim laughs and sobs all at once; happy despite appearances.

Opening the oven door he looks the offender right in it’s asshole, “I heard you been upsettin’ my baby!” Almost too late he tacks on, “AND my wife!”

Being out in the world after seven years in a bunker is overtly surreal and, still, many months later Nick shelters his eyes from any particularly strong source of light. Foraging for food wasn’t the worst part of the apocalypse so far; Joseph God Damned Seed held tightly to that title still, somehow, after several nuclear bombs and one hell of an assassination attempt.

Notching an arrow from a set Kimi had helped him whittle down yesterday, Nick holds his breath and dispatches a silent prayer. He’d never been a bad shot with a firearm but? Hunting with a bow- depending on that skill (however meager or great) to feed not only yourself but your family, was an entire bucket of wriggling, foul worms he hated toting around. Releasing his taught lungs the arrow follows suit, hitting its target successfully.

Less than an hour later finds him roaring up the drive, a sidecar full of gutted venison jostling the spot-welded metal plating all the way to the hangar. Having developed a functional routine, Nick goes through the motions: hanging, skinning, cutting, and packing his spoils in the cleanest paper they’ve got.

A sneaking, hushed gurgle of a giggle alerts him but he doesn’t stray from his task, preferring to be assumed as unaware. It doesn’t take long for his daughter, Carmina to stalk around him and he is careful about securing his tools, a sharpened knife safely snoozing on the opposite side of his patchwork butcher's table.

When she grips on to the back of his legs he responds in a half startled, monstrous roar, “RaaaAAHH!!” And, stooping he bends, scooping her up, “Oh no buckeroo!” Hauling her onto his shoulder is becoming more difficult as she’s nearing nine years old but? He does it anyways, laughing along, “Swamp monster’s got you!”

Amidst their boisterousness he makes out a familiar tone: Kim. “Shh-shh,” His tickling fingers still, free hand poised and pointer drawn against his lips, “Quiet down, kiddo!” On the breath of a strong wind he manages to decipher what she’s yelling, “That’s your Mama callin’!” Although he isn’t mad his tone does harden into a stern reprimand, “You ain’t- you just left the house without saying nothin’ again?!”

“Daddy!” Carmina protests as he swings her down just-enough to be in view. Partially upside down she meets his gaze with a practiced pout, cheeks reddening.

“Nuh-uh, I won’t hear it- don’t give me that look, neither!” He frowns, “We’ve done talked about this, Carmina: you can’t just-” Setting her down on her own two feet, “It’s a dangerous world we are livin’ in young lady and,” Not one to entirely dampen his daughter- or anyone’s spirits he tries to rouse her lovely smile again, “As your Daddy,” Digits wriggle when he unexpectedly hikes her back up and tickles just-enough for a laugh, “It is my duty to make sure you apologize to your Mama, Ma’am.”

By the time he wrangles his squirming, squealing child out the rear door, Kim is on her way to the garage and he calls ahead into the partial darkness of the mostly-settled sun, “You lose something, darlin’?”

Although her eyes are firmly on the dark haired little girl, safe and secure over her father’s shoulder, Kim can not help herself: her nerves are fraught. “Carmina!” She hollers one last time, voice hovering between worried and a-woman-scorned.

“Sorry Mommy-”

“You could have-!” Kim wants nothing more than to elaborate and although they are mostly honest with Carmina about the state of the world, they have refrained from being gruesome or brutal about it. “Don’t do that ever again, do you hear me young lady?!”

“Makes you feel any better,” Nick nearly starts in the middle of a sentence, hurrying to interrupt the tense and uncomfortable situation, “I could always craft up a leash or somethin’-” The look his wife gives him has his lips curling when he sets his daughter down between them, “What? She’d never leave the yard again- it’s what you want!”

Despite the mixture of rage and relief ravaging every facet of her psyche Kim closes the distance between them, Carmina already a shadow haunting their crumbling dining room. “Thank you,” They both know it is more than about this moment. That she is thankful for his way with her and with their daughter; every stupid thing about him, really. “Thank you, Nick.”

“Anything for you baby,” He is smart enough to let the moment lie, a palm stroking softly against the round of her mostly shaven head. Swaying slightly in the cool, spring breeze he bends pressing his lips to the crest of her forehead. “So,” He says, unable to take it anymore, “No to that baby-chain, huh?”

Needing it too she angles her head back, looking him dead in the eye, “Just.” For effect she pauses, blowing stray strands from her vision, “Make sure she has access to fresh water.”

“Ok-okay,” Although there is a certain amount of set determination to his tone, Nick Rye falters- a scant pause in the doorway. “Let’s do this,” With a friend at his side he feels confident enough in their newly mustered camaraderie to push forward, through the side door and into the wide expanse of the living room.

“Carmina?”

Just the sound of her voice is enough to do him in entirely and he stops, just-adjacent of the door to drink her in silence.

“Do you know where my wire cutters are?” She buzzes around, in a tizzy of a search, keeping herself busy- moving and, more importantly, distracted. It’s not that she doesn’t notice the movement out of the corner of her eye, or the painfully familiar phantom behind her, she’s just? Tired. Ready for a new hallucination to be tormented with- she’s been through it all before, more than enough times.

“Kim.”

This particular poltergeist has the audacity to manifest a nice, little, aural ditty for her as well and she turns away, deepening her tried and true remedy. “I know I put them here somewhere,” Although she can clearly see they are not on top of the stacked supply crates, Kim looks anyways, fingers brushing each item to try and root herself back into reality.

Nick takes pause to apologize to his companion with a look. He isn’t a fan of anything he could possibly deem as too-uncomfortable, or soul-bearing, but this? This moment he has ached for- longing and alone; afraid. Giving another apologetic look he manages, “Hold on.”

“They were just here, where did I put them-” She cuts herself off with a dismissive and frustrated gesture, shoulders sagging in resolution. Staring down at the meagre, inconsequential items she can feel her eyes begin to burn. ‘Not now, not n o w,’ She tells herself, lips silent and clinging strongly to the image she portrays: hardened, brazen woman and an absolute warrior of a mother. Truly a force to be reckoned with.

Though he is generally a man that is embarrassed of any kind of physical displays of affection in public he reaches out, fingers gentle against her side;

Kim grips him roughly at first, unsure of her suspected delusion- could it be Rush? He’d already given her quite the salacious look over the fireside last night and she’d turned away, offended and? Blushing.

“You lose something, darlin’?”

Quick on the balls of her feet she turns, eyes searching a worn and weathered face she has prayed relentlessly for; a man she has begged every star in the sky to return safely.

His tongue fits against the basin of his mouth, voice an emotionally charged stutter, “Hey baby.” When she grips onto him he pulls her in as closely as possible, dying for the touch of her warmth.

“Hi,” She barely manages, expression crumbling under the weighty realization and arms cementing around him. Kim tries to repeat herself more certainly but her voice cracks, pronunciation silent.

“Hey, you know,” Not one to linger in his feelings he tries to make light of the situation even though he is very aware that is it not the time, “If you’re busy I can always come back-” With barely a second to breathe she regrips, tugging him in, “No?”

#far cry 5 #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #satan fills requests #okay bye im jshbndsnfdkj #been a long time since i wrote anythuing this soft im gonna go now jbhdfg

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cattearambles · 4 years

Text

Dionysus, the different aspects of death and how Nico gets caught in the middle

So I was on anon and told @jerseydevious that I did this for my “dissertation” and that I had a HC on this matter. And then people started saying they wanted to read it? So.... uh... here it is in summary form?

Before I get into the summary and post the full length essay link, I want to say that yes, I did my dissertation on it. However, I am far from an expert on the matter. There was only so much I could write for a 5000 word essay with a 10% leeway. This is just what I found. If you find anything that contradicts this, please do bring it up! I love discussions and debates! Also, I guess trigger warning for extreme violence, death and blood? If I’m forgetting something, please do tell me so I can add it.

Let’s get into it.

Dionysus and his Mysteries

Dionysus had these Mysteries that were mostly aimed at women where they were initiated into an ecstatic cult which they believed would allow them to live happily and die with hope, according to Cicero. They used a bunch of intoxicants to induce mania or inspired frenzy and provided liberation by removing social constraints. As the name suggests, we don’t know much about what exactly happened in these initiations (telestai), but we can make assumptions based on extant descriptions and iconography.

Some background into what the Mysteries entailed, their background and ultimately how they relate to death and rebirth:

1) In one retelling of the myth (Orphic myths of the chthonic Dionysus), Dionysus was the son of Persephone and Zeus, not Semele. which brings up a whole plethora of uncomfortable whys but anyway In this myth, Zeus names Dionysus as his heir and so the Titans plotted to kill him. The Titans shred him into pieces, boiled him and then consumed him. Zeus blasted them with lightning, reducing them to ash. The remaining ash would later become humanity, which led them to believe that humans being were Titanic in body but divine in soul. Dionysus was recovered by Demeter and thus reborn.

2) Even in the more familiar myth of Semele being flashed by Zeus and Zeus saving embryo Dionysus by sewing him into his inner thigh is reminiscent of being twice born, establishing his connection to rebirth. I still don’t understand how this is possible... the skin would bulge so much??? How would Zeus walk if he had a melon sized lump on his thigh? How did the gods not notice this??? I have so many questions for the Ancient Greeks

3) In one myth surrounding the Alcyonian Lake in Lerna, worshippers blew trumpets by the lake to summon Dionysus from the Underworld.

4) His companions are also associated with death, for example the maenads and the nymphs. In Euripides’ Bacchae, these maenads were whipped into a frenzy that later led to them ripping apart bulls, heifers and later a man. So death is pretty obviously connected to them. Nymphs were known in their roles in mourning (eg: Thetis sending Achilles off in a shroud in the Illiad) as well as their roles of guiding the dead to the Underworld.

5) Some things that were thought to have occur during these initiations were things like ritual violence like flagellation, vigourous dance with cymbals and tympanon and the drinking of wine.

Death oracles were considered a powerful form of divination and the Ancient Greeks believed that the dead held knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. A lot of the information on death oracles is given in the Odyssey, if anyone wants to read further into it. Long treks were made to get to these death oracles and they asked stuff about death funnily enough. The client would typically undergo a series of preparation rites like fasting, purifying baths and eating certain seeds to get high. They would enter the caves and the ghost was thought to appear to them in several ways eg: in their dreams, deus ex machina or hallucinations.

Death Oracles and Necromancy

Comparing the two

I go into a lot of depth about the similarities in locales between these two rituals and and also the way in which they induced an altered state of consciousness, but this is meant to be a summary so I’ll link the full essay below and you can read it if you like. I want to talk about some of their rituals. By consuming wine in the Dionysiac Mysteries, it not only served to alter the state of consciousness but it was thought that they were receiving Dionysus himself into their bodies and through divine possession (entheos) they would also receive a revelation. In that sense, the consumption of wine is comparable to how blood was offered to the dead in order to revive them and be imparted with their divine knowledge. Furthermore, there are metaphorical associations with wine production and the recurring themes of violence in that the grapes had to be broken down thoroughly before being brought back as something new and is also described as being the “blood of grapes”. This emphasises Dionysus’ tie with rebirth and also death.

Both rituals helped to consolidate the clients’ status in life by reassuring them with the knowledge of the afterlife, eschatological hope and also by removing their fear by giving them a symbolic death.

TLDR --> the Dionysian mysteries draw many comparisons to death oracles in location, ritual and iconography. It addresses their hope for what is to come. Death oracles, on the other hand, aided in answering questions about death, and so the two of them addressed different aspects of death.

If you’re still here after reading all that, kudos to you! Here is the full length essay: https://we.tl/t-OdwbdNpNJ6

So how does this all tie in with my HC? We’ve established that Dionysus is actually more entrenched in death as previously thought. I’m just saying, the potential for Dionysus to be grudgingly chill with Nico is something I find immensely funny. Not to the point where he cares for him like his own child, but like a cool wine uncle (ha!). I’m thinking he would turn a blind eye to a lot of things that Nico has done. If he wants to sit at another table (which he does in ToA but semantics)? Wow this Diet coke is exquisite. Just the right amount of carbonation. The colour is not as fullbodied as the 2017 batch I had earlier. Nico and a camper, let’s say Percy, do some damage because Big Three kids must have a lot of repressed power that sometimes bubble over. Anyway, Nico and Percy destroy something? Perry Johansson, organise the weapon shed. Did I just hear you sass me? Okay, now you’ve got cleaning duty with the harpies. I like to think that in TTC, when baby Nico excitedly points out that Dionysus is the wine dude, Dionysus doesn’t smite him where he stood not just because of the Mythomagic card, but because he had an inkling to his parentage but couldn’t be sure. Especially since he’s also connected to death. But also think about the possibility of Dionysus trying to challenge Nico at Pacman. And Nico obviously obliterates him because if you were stuck in a time loop full of games, I’m pretty certain you’d be a pro at arcade games as well. And an interaction like this happens or something:

Percy: “You beat Mr. D at Pacman? And you’re not dead or a porpoise?!”

Nico: “I guess?”

Percy: “What did you do?! How??”

Nico, in utter confusion: “I existed???”

Nico is confused and low key concerned, Percy is aggravated and also very confused, Dionysus is chilling, diet coke by his side and aware of the confusion he’s sowing but would turn anyone who brought it up into some sort of animal and Chiron is just there side-eyeing him, like “are you serious?” and very done.

#pjo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #dionysus #what I want: good friendships that have a tonne of interaction #what I get: forced romances in HoO and more white bread ass Jason than I care for #I genuinely find this so interesting and the fact that people want to read it makes me super happy #it feels good putting one of my hyperfixations in the context of another hyperfixation #meta #long post #tw: extreme violence #tw: death #tw: blood #the great british queue off #now I'm just thinking that I've gotten this all wrong and wasted everyone's time!?!?#shush haz and go to sleep #but monkey brain won't let me

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angelwars11 · 4 years

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Title: What would you do if you had more time?

Prompt: Clock

Pairing: Codex

Rating: T

Word count: 6k

‘Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.’

—

‘Time is running out for all of us. But if you give a little nudge, a little push against the clock’s hands; then maybe, just maybe, you possess enough strength and determination to push time back.’ -By Me (Beta/Angel)

This is day 4 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finished this prompt a week ago and the editing was finished last night, the beta reading was finalized today. Now this one is very angsty, sad, and is also said to be a tear-jerker, and I quote, “Oh thank god, that got me all teary-eyed.” by my marvelous beta reader @gimmeclones. It’s also edited by my fabulous revisor, @blazesurrender! Thank you darlings!! P.S. the flower’s symbolism in this story is Hope.

Who’s ready to cry and hug a pillow close to their chest? Who’s ready to want to hug the characters really hard? If you are ready, please, press the ‘keep reading’ link. Enjoy!!

*Warning: Pretty angsty! If you aren’t into angst, then please don’t read! Also, you will cry so grab a tissue box.

Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.

Some people waste their time away by doing unremarkable or unimportant things that won’t help them in the long run. Then, once they even waste it away, they can’t do anything about it.

The elderly, who’ve lived their lives to the very end, will tell you one thing:

“Time is valuable, and when it is gone, it’s gone. Time is wealth, and unlike credits, when it is gone, you cannot replace it.”

You may think that time is invisible to the naked eye, but no, it’s not. Actually, you can see it right there in front of you above every person’s head like a marker. Marking. Or target them for an inevitable change.

Death.

Numbers, colored in neon glowing colors would float above your head since the time you were born; and they only change from green to red when you are approaching your end. Everyone has this. Not one person has never been born without it. An ugly and scarily real reminder of what is to come if you are not careful.

The scary thing about it is that you can stop what’s coming. Only fate has your life in its hands. Would you trust in fate? It could change directions if you chose a different path. Could that path lead you right to your death? Could your decision be right—or very wrong and lead you to your undoing?

Rex has never known what to do about fate because he can’t do anything about it; not that he knows of. These glow green numbers have floated above his head for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t touch these numbers. His hands went right through them.

The green would pixelate and float away. Then they’ll come back at some point. You touching your own numbers wouldn’t affect your time or you, it just makes the numbers dissolve and at some point it’ll bounce back.

Rex’s numbers say exactly: 60:12:20:18

He has exactly 60 years, 12 months, 20 minutes, and 18 seconds until he dies. Rex is unbelievably surprised by this amount of years he has. First of all, all clones barely have time on their hands; or more like on their heads. Seriously! Some clones have mere minutes or hours until they die and it’s really unnerving to know that you are about to die on your next mission someplace and you don’t even know HOW you’ll die.

Rex stares at the numbers over his head for a long time. They continue to count down every second. He shakes his head and sighs. What can I do about it? Fate is unclear sometimes. At one point, Rex’s number specifically said 01:36:18:01 till he died, and that was before the battle of Geonosis—the first battle of the Clone Wars when clone troopers were introduced. Rex actually believed he was going to die that day, but something changed it; somehow he changed it.

A plasma grenade landed in the sand in front of him and his numbers stuttered. He remembers this so vividly. Then Rex ran in the opposite direction and the blast sent him flying forward. He woke up dazed, confused, and dizzy most of all. Rex forced himself to stand and continue fighting but he didn’t realize his number got knocked all the way back to 02:03:60:59.

Two years! Rex thought about it. What if we can change our path and divert to another path away from death itself? He dismissed these crazy thoughts and called them childish or far-fetched fantasies that simply couldn’t come true. That all changed once Rex was sent to Teth and his numbers dropped; they were falling—and falling fast.

Ventress took hold of him, attempting to use the force to make him comm his General, but Rex fought her control long enough to say his General’s first name, Anakin, and that alone improved his numbers. Ventress left him against the wall. His numbers rose to 03:08:60:59.

At the time, Rex had no idea how he got his time all the way up to 50 years! But he did somehow after spending many long days and hourless nights thinking, and he finally perceived the truth. I can change the pathway fate has carved for me.

He should be happy that his life ended up that long, as a result of his quick-thinking, but it also makes Rex feel sad every time he looks upon a vod’s numbers and it’s spiraling down to zero. Rex wants to hide away his numbers sometimes, he can’t though.

Oh well. Rex sighs internally and leaves the ‘fresher.

Rex is getting ready for a big mission to follow a signal being transmitted to a Separatist Cyber Center on the planet’s surface. Hours ago, Rex and Commander Cody came forward to Jedi Generals Made Windy and Anakin Skywalker with their theory that the Separatists had somehow managed to figure out Rex’s strategic “playbook”, and Cody had proposed taking a team behind enemy lines to investigate.

Rex finishes getting ready in the ‘fresher and exits. He walks over to the nearest bunk and sits down on it. A soft glowing light, warm and orange shines onto his face.

He smiles to himself.

On his holo-pad, he stares at a picture of him, Cody, Fives, and Echo. They all looked so… happy. Which should be kind of unusual during a war. Rex enjoyed his time with all three of them. Echo was taken away from them, a couple weeks after the picture was taken, during the Citadel Mission on Lola Sayu. Fives had never been the same since. Now, they are both gone. Rex doesn’t like to think about what happened to Fives. His hand grips tighter onto the edge of the screen.

Rex believes that Echo is alive and he’s the reason why their algorithm keeps getting recognized and used against them. The swish of the doors opening turned Rex away from his holo-pad and towards his riduur. Cody. Rex smiles at him.

Nobody is around. I could just-

“Kot’ika, hey.” Rex let’s the nickname slip from his lips. Cody’s eyes soften from their natural hardened look. He always looks that way with everyone, especially when in serious situations.

“Rex. You wanted to talk.” Cody barely lets a flicker of a smile show on his face. Rex knows he’s just trying to be the big bad Commander and barely show any emotion. He only ever shows true emotion, or loving emotion, when they are in the bedroom.

“Yes,” Rex confirms, “I did.”

The two of them talk about how Echo could be the potential reason for the Separatists constant victories. Rex deduces Echo is the only possible weak point for how the Separatists could have gotten the algorithm since his body has never been recovered. It is a bit of a far stretch though. It leaves Cody feeling skeptical of the theory after Rex tells him his idea.

“I hope you’re right. But the fact is, Echo’s fingerprints are all over the Separatist’s strategies.” Rex looks at Cody. The other’s scratched up helmet sits nestled against his left hip.

“Rex. You have to admit what you’re saying is a long shot at best, and most likely, misplaced hope.” Cody calmly watches him. Rex turns his gaze to the floor, sad and frazzled. He’s not so sure he can make up his mind about whether he wants to believe Cody’s instincts, or his own.

Cody raises his hand slowly in front of Rex’s face to call back his attention. Rex stares at him again.

Concern flickers in Cody’s eyes, “I need you to be focused on this.“

Rex shifts his gaze a bit. "I-I know, I know.” Golden eyes flick up to meet Cody’s hazel once more. “Don’t worry."

Cody offers another smile, gentle and sweet. That’s when Rex’s eyes widen just a fraction. He stopped looking at other’s numbers above their heads because the 8 digits ceased to interest him; they only made him more sad and worried and so many other things. He just so happened to look up and notices Cody’s numbers are lowering a bit quicker than normal.

Cody turns to walk away from the bunk and Rex squints at the mocking numbers.

Holy kriff. Why didn’t I notice till now?

"Wait, Cody.” Rex jumps to stand up and runs over to Cody; who turns around to face him again. Some confusion showed in his eyes.

“Yes?” Cody shifts his weight to his right hip.

Rex stares at the numbers in horror. “I…your numbers. They're…” Rex gestures to the numbers above Cody’s soft hair, longer than the normal hair length, and makes an aborted step closer. Cody tips his head back. Too bad an individual can’t see their own numbers unless they look in a mirror. Even then, they are still reversed when presented to the looking glass. The numbers just bend back with you if you look up. Cody seems to remember because he looks at Rex again.

“What’s wrong with them?” Cody eyes him with concern. Rex steps closer and closer till Cody can almost feel his breath on his face. Rex trembles slightly.

“They…they are dropping Cody. Fast.” Rex fights the urge to panic, to say something, to cry or anything, just-Stars! Make them stop moving!

Cody restrains his own panic, but for Rex; because Rex looks like he’s going to cry in any minute. Cody grabs his hands and rubs his knuckles. Just the way he likes it; to calm down some.

“Hey, cyare, look at me.” Cody’s voice is as soft as a young Tooka’s fur. Undisturbed. Fluffy. It could almost wrap it’s warmth around Rex’s body and squeeze him. Rex glances at his face and then back up at the flickering numbers.

“Rex. Please, don’t look at the numbers. Look at me and only me. Don’t look at them.” Cody brushes his chin up with his finger. Rex reacts to it and leans against his body.

“I don't… please don’t go. Your numbers are getting faster. They skipped down five years, Cody. It’s not even years! It's—oh stars.” Rex grits his teeth in horror. Cody quickly shushes him. He doesn’t want anyone to hear them. Rex submits to his hold.

That’s another scary thing, the numbers do not make a sound. It’s like a ghost in the wind.

“Cyare, you know that fate changes whenever you do something. Whatever path you take can change the whole directory, and that just happens to the best of us—"

Rex growls and leans away.

"But not you! I don’t give a shit what fate wants or needs. It won’t take you away from me. I ca-” Cody tightens his hold on Rex’s wrist. That shuts him up. Cody didn’t mean to, but Rex knows that he can’t get attached to him like that; especially when it came to their numbers.

“You will. We are soldiers, Rex. We fight in a war and someday we may not make it back home, to our loved ones. You’ll have to accept that fact when fate decides it’s my time-”

Rex shakes his head. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here; we can make up an excuse why you shouldn’t or can’t go.” Rex smiles. Hope and sorrow shimmer like unhappy, broken up waves in a pond.

Cody let’s go of Rex’s wrist, wraps his arms around his waist, and brings him closer to his chest. A hug. Rex’s breaths become slower and calm.

“You know I can’t do that. But I will remain by your side till the very end, and if fate wants me today; and of course I hope it doesn’t, then it will take me and I get to march with our aliit.” Cody tucks his chin on top of Rex’s short, oh so soft, wheat blond curls.

Rex fights against the burn behind his eyes. Don’t show emotions. Y-You ca-c-can’t. He became so sensitive after Umbara. Rex lost many brothers during that campaign, even the 212th lost many as well. Cody lost Waxer that day.

“If I die, I’ll always be here with you, my love. Never forget that.” Cody whispers. His warm breath tickles his scalp. It sent shivers ramping down his neck, to his broad and wide shoulders, to his toned abdomen and all the way down to his feet. Rex’s arms snake their way around his cyare’s waist to return the hug.

He hates to agree to disagree but it must be done to ease Cody’s concerns and cleanly wipe them off the slate.

Rex nods.

“Okay, okay,” Rex whispers. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

Cody smiles. He pecks a quick kiss on Rex’s forehead and returns his resting place on his head. "Bal Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

—

Rex stands beside Cody. They rock back and forth with the movement of the LAAT shuttle. Something that every trooper has learned throughout the war; go with the flow or the movement of the shuttle. Don’t fight against it or you’ll fall over. The red lights enveloped the entire midsection of the ship in an evil glow. It put Rex on edge because he knows that Cody’s time is ticking down to 0 sooner than he liked.

Why did we let him go on the mission if he’s about to die or get hurt? Succumb to injuries that may kill him. Well, they are clone troopers. They can’t not go on missions just because their time is ticking down. They have to go!

Cody glances down at Rex’s hand while everyone else is looking in the other direction, and his knuckles graze Rex’s. Two fingers wrap themselves around his own fingers. Rex looks up at Cody. Then the Captain slowly flicks his eyes up to stare scrutinizingly at the glowing numbers. They are slowly turning red.

"Cody, ” Rex whispers. Cody rubs his thumb over his knuckles.

“It’s okay, Rex. Everything is fine.” Cody reassures him with a small smile and kind eyes. Nothing is fine though. Cody is going to die in 43 minutes because of something that Rex doesn’t know, not yet anyways. Rex wants so badly to do more than curl his own fingers around Cody’s. He wants to hug him. Kiss him. Be close to him.

“I gotta go up to the front and brief everyone on what we need to do. I’ll be back okay.” Cody let’s go of his fingers and holds his eye contact with Rex before he walks over to the front of the mid-section.

00:43:57

Cody won’t be back. Something is going to happen to this shuttle, I just know it.

Cody is getting closer and closer to death. Rex’s heart throbs at the terrible knowledge. Why does no one else care that Cody’s time is almost up? Why?! Maybe because they have another issue that’s more important than a clone Commander’s imminent death.

“Alright, listen up.” Cody whips out a mini holo-projector that shows a staticky picture of a satellite dish. “Here’s the mission. Our target is the Cyber Center. It’s the "brains” of the entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes.“ Cody seems so confident even though time is ticking. Ticking and ticking. And it won’t stop until it has Cody in it’s sharp clutches.

Wrecker steps forth. "I could demolish that with one hand!” He says energetically while raising his left fist. “Yeah!” Wrecker nods.

Cody just looks at him. “This isn’t a demo job, Wrecker.” Then Cody glances at everyone else on the shuttle. “It’s strictly a retrieval operation.” The holo-projection flickers off. The low blue of its natural light dissipates: and the evil red of the room returns.

The shuttle tips to its right as it enters a canyon-like terrain. Rex nervously shifts as he stares at Cody’s numbers again. Even Hunter glances up at them in surprise. Seems like he just noticed. Rex thinks. The loud sound of explosions rock the ship from side to side. Everyone rocks with the movement.

We are under attack!

Everyone looks up at the ceiling. They can all hear it outside. Cannon fire, most definitely. The ship groans as it rises into the sky in an attempt to escape being shot down. A black DSD1 dwarf spider droid gets a lucky shot. The red plasma bolt rams into the metal with a screeching hiss. Amber’s fly off the side of the ship that had been hit; and the shuttle takes a dive back towards the ground.

“We’re going down!” Wrecker shouts the obvious and starts to laugh like a maniac.

The shuttle takes a dangerous dive straight into the side of the cliffs and then continues to shred across it, bringing rocks and rubble down with it. Then the shuttle tips onto its back and left side. It crashes into the ground loudly. Blue and violet crystals, that are stuck into the ground, are brought up by the massive hull.

All of the troopers stumble out of the shuttle coughing and groaning to themselves in pain. Rex hop’s off the side and immediately starts to look for Cody. He didn’t get out. Rex comes to realize in well-concealed horror.

Where is he?!

“We always get shot down when we travel with regs.” Wrecker pouts.

Kix remains on the ship and is peering down into the smoke enveloped shuttle. He calls, “Cody!” Cody doesn’t answer. So Kix turns his head to look at everyone else. “Help!”

A flare of dread rolls through Rex like an angry wave. He turns around, ready to do anything to save his cyare and get him out of there. Haar'chak! His time! He doesn’t have time!

Kix looks back in quickly. His brows furrow. “He’s trapped. We have to do something."

Rex rasps out, "I’ll get him.” and begins to jog over. Hunter rushes to stand in between Rex and his cyare—get your hands off of me!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.“ Hunter stops him with two gauntleted hands pressed against his chest plate and right pauldron. Rex glares at him for one second and then tries to get a glance over his shoulder.

Hunter can see his concern and desperation fluttering around in his eyes. He can tell why he wants to so badly save Cody.

He reassures him, "Easy Captain.” Captain Rex looks at him like he’s crazy. What do you mean 'easy Captain’?! Move! Rex’s eyes glow a bit when the sun’s rays hit them just right. Hunter peeks around Rex’s right shoulder.

“Wrecker,” Hunter acknowledges the bigger trooper, before ordering, “get him out.“ Hunter pushes Rex back and away far away from the ship, gently; just so then he wouldn’t anger him. Rex wouldn’t get unnecessarily upset. Hunter is just doing his job as a Commander of his own squad and is trying to keep him calm.

Wrecker cracks his knuckles. He pulls his left arm up to pump himself up with adrenaline. He’ll need it to get Cody out of there.

"Get back!” Wrecker grunts.

Everyone moves away to watch whatever he’s about to do to save the Commander stuck inside. Rex’s right foot nervously taps against the ground.

“This is ridiculous!” Kix looks at Rex. “He’s gonna need help to get Cody out of there.”

Rex glances from Kix, to the ground, and then back up to the flaming shuttle.

Crosshair chuckles. “He’s gonna get the gunship out of there. Not Cody.” His tone is smug and cocky. Arms crossed over his chest plate like he’s all talk. Rex pushes his boiling anger back down.

Wrecker places his hands on the heated metal. His left hand on the side and his right on the bottom. The sizzling of fire pops near him. Wrecker grunts powerfully. He lifts the shuttle up and up. Then Wrecker jerks his body down to rest both of his hands on the bottom of the shuttle. And his legs move to a crouched position, right leg bent down low and the foot is pressed into the ground, while the left leg is bent back behind him; they have also spread apart a little bit to support the weight.

Wrecker heaves one last time before he pushes up with all his might. Knocking the ship right back up to sit like it’s supposed to; bottom part facing down against the ground, top up towards the sky. Parts of metal fall off and slam into the ground around Wrecker.

He smiles under his cool helmet.

The ship then tips onto the other side. The deafening and horrid sounds of metal, screeching against each other like chalk on a chalkboard, drag along with a groan. The body of the pilot limply sits in the cockpit. Dead. Wrecker instantly grabs a hold of the injured 212th Commander in yellow and heaves him up, like a rag doll, onto his shoulders in a fireman hold.

The buff trooper turns around and makes his way back towards the awaiting group. The aura around the group suffocates them in anxiety; more so for the regs.

Cody’s legs swing from side to side, like he’s already dead.

Wrecker tips his chin up. “Boom."

And on cue, as if he did this a million times before, the shuttle blows up. It becomes a fiery storm of red, orange, and yellow fire. The smoke billows up it no the sky.

Rex and Kix both squint against the heat and raging colors. It may look pretty, but it can still kill. Kix’s mouth opens in a gap and he runs over to meet Wrecker. His field medic instincts are kicking in in an instant.

Rex grits his teeth and runs over as well, his kama swings around his hips multiple times. Wrecker starts to slowly lower him onto the ground; which draws out a pained reaction from Cody. Rex’s eyes widen at the death time flickering above his head.

00:00:37:47

Kix takes out a scanner, the laser hums as it’s dragged along over Cody’s chest because a big metal pole laid across his back inside the ship when he was stuck. Cody’s skin crinkles up under his eyes as his face scrunches up in agony.

Cody groans again.

"He has internal damage.” Kix says grimly. Kix glances at all of them. “I can cut the pain. But he needs help fast.” He takes off his med-pack and starts to dig through it for supplies.

Rex stares at the numbers with sad eyes. Cody gazes up at him longly. Rex notices his cyare’s looking at him, so he kneels down to get a bit closer.

“It’s okay, Cody. Kix will fix you up.” Rex reassures him with a small smile. Cody grimaces when a wave of pain rapidly washes over him.

“I-It hur-hurts.” Cody closes his eyes.

Rex bites the inside of his cheek. If Cody is admitting that it hurts; then it must hurt bad.

“I know. But it’ll be okay. Just stay with me.” Rex’s fingers inch towards his hand. Force, I want to comfort him so bad. But everyone is around. All I can do is say something for now. “I am here, Cody."

Cody flinches away from Kix when he plunges pain killers into the side of his neck. Cody gasps and tries to get away.

"No no. It’s okay. It’s just a syringe.” Rex smiles. Hoping to calm Cody down.

Kix pushes it in; not even waiting for Cody to listen to Rex. The slender metal slides into sensitive skin and that’s enough to make Cody halt in his desperate attempt to escape more pain.

“There you go.” Kix comforts him. He may be firm, but he still cares about his patients. “We need to get him somewhere safe so then a drop ship can come pick him and I up. I’ll go with him back to the base.” Kix volunteers.

While he is, Cody is slowly falling asleep.

Rex nods. “Okay.”

—

The sky is a beautiful glowing blue. An ominous aurora, a glistening light show of ivy green and with a fair amount of yellow, swirled in the sky above a campsite down below in the thick wooded forest. The warm glow of a fire pit hummed lively through the treetops.

Jesse and Kix sit in front of a fire pit. They lean against one another. Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair stand near the fire pit and Hunter is a little ways away; crouched in the dirt. Hunter touches the dirt and closes his eyes. Near the front of the camp and further away from the campfire sits Cody and Rex.

Cody curls forward and groans in agony. His chest burns terribly. Rex let’s his hand graze the inside of his thigh plate and comforts him the best he can.

“It’s okay, Cody.” Rex whispered under his breath. Cody whines. He tries to push Rex’s hand away but he wouldn’t let go of him for his sake.

“No no. Cod'ika, listen to me. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Rex reassures him. Or more like he’s trying to reassure himself that everything will be fine but it isn’t! Cody’s time is standing at a standstill of 00:16:34.

“Rex….R-Rex. It hurts so bad.” Cody moaned.

Rex coos at him. “I know, Cod'ika. I know. Just breathe for me."

Cody’s fingers grip the hard plastoid armor around his abdomen and try to yank it off, but he couldn’t. Rex watches him. The numbers flicker again. 00:14:23.

Haar'chak.

"R-Rex, forceee~ It burns.” Cody places his head against Rex’s chest plate and grits his teeth.

Rex looks over his left shoulder. “Kix! Cody, he's—"

The medic rushes over, excusing himself from his conversation with Jesse and the others. Jesse stands yo in concern but Kix tells him to sit back down, he’ll worry about it.

"Okay, Commander. It’s alright. Shit.” Kix stares at the scarlet red above Cody’s head. “Haar'chak.” Kix looks down at his hands and turns his sad gaze to his Captain.

“Rex, I am sorry but we can’t do anything else until the shuttle comes.” Kix sits back.

“But he’s dying Kix! There has to be something you can do!” Rex grips Cody’s trembling hand between his two palms. Cody moans a little louder when his head starts to swim. Rex leans his head against his chestplate.

“I’ve got you. Just lean against me and you’ll be okay.” Rex wraps his arms around him and glances up at the numbers. 13 minutes.

Cody knows his time is almost up. He can feel it in his muscles; how they sag and become heavy like clay and rocks. His eyes couldn’t stay open for long. He feels so tired. Rex stares at the medic sitting beside Cody.

“Can you give us a moment alone?” Rex requested.

Kix smiles sympathetically. “Of course.” Kix walks back over to the warm campfire.

“My love. I am sorry.” Cody apologizes once Kix is gone. “There was no avoiding this. I am so so sorry.”

Hot tears prick Rex’s eyes. He whispers, “It’s okay, Cod'ika. It’s my fault. I should’ve been more persistent with convincing you to stay at the base.” Tears drift down Rex’s face. Cody reaches him up to wipe them away. Rex smiles wetly and presses his forehead against Cody’s and sniffles.

“I love you Kote,” Rex utters the endearment that makes him all the more sad. “I love you so kriffing much,” Rex whispers. A soft sob escapes his lips. Cody closes his eyes and grunts in pain. It’s like the pressure in his stomach is releasing but in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I love you too.” Cody sighs. His time ticks closer and closer to his inevitable death. Rex holds onto his lover and rocks him back and forth, while he whispers sweet nothings against his cold and clammy skin.

Rex bites his lower lip.

“I wish there was a way to save you. I wish that I could save you. Stars, please help me. Help him. Please give him more time.” Rex murmurs and prays. Cody listens to his breathy pleads over and over; the world is enveloped in a period of silence that is only broken by Rex’s prayers.

“Let me save him. Please, let me save him.” Rex continues the desperate mantra like a broken record.

“Give him more time.”

Cody’s breaths start to slow down with their deathly crawl. His chest burns for more oxygen. Please, more! He whines in pain. Cody claws at Rex’s arm as he is desperate for comfort.

“Give him more time. Give him more time.” Rex repeats.

Cody gasps softly when an odd wave of warmth extinguishes the cold from his skin and body. His eyes fly open. Kix and the others are watching the loving and sad interaction unfold. Kix’s eyes widen when Cody’s numbers flicker closer to three minutes—and they stop. Everyone takes a bated breath and sits in waiting.

Rex says again, “Give him more time. Give him more time. Let me give him more time.”

Cody slowly turns his head to gaze onto Rex’s scrunched up face. Rex’s eyes are closed and his lips move at lighting speed. Cody groans from a deathly cold sensation that suddenly turns really warm and filled with life. Rex’s numbers start to flicker themselves and they—they start to lower from sixty years and go down.

Everyone around them moves towards them in shock. Rex refuses to let go of Cody’s hands. He keeps his own around them until he feels the warmth return to them. Rex blinks in confusion and gazes up at Cody’s numbers.

He gasps.

I-I…I can’t b-believe it. His numbers—

Cody’s eyes widen in horror at Rex’s numbers.

His numbers!

Cody finally feels his strength return, it’s a rush of adrenaline that he uses to reach up and touch the side of Rex’s face. He studies his eyes. Golden and normal; nothing’s wrong with them! Cody stares at his numbers again.

Rex’s numbers stop moving. Cody gapes. Fifty years?! He lost a whole ten years!

“Rex?? I-I…what did you do?” Cody frowns in worry. Rex shushes him.

“I did what I had to so then you could live."

Wrecker screams, "What?! How is that possible? Nobody told me you could do this!!"

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Nobody knew this Wrecker. This is… Strange. Weird. Are only Regs above to do this?” Crosshair turns to look at the medic questioningly.

Kix shrugs. “N-No. No. I am very sure no one has ever known to do this before. This is a new discovery and development.” Kix kneels down beside Cody’s body again and checks all of his vitals quickly just to double check. Cody couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rex’s numbers.

The corner of Rex’s lip quirks up in amusement. “Cod'ika, look at me. Don’t look at the numbers. They’ve stopped moving; haven’t they?"

Cody glares at him. "You di'kut! You threw your years away to–to— "

"To give you extra years. Commander…you just gained 10 years!” Kix interrupts. “How is that—"

”-Possible?” Hunter finishes for him.

Rex shrugs. “I just kept thinking about wanting to give him more time, and I did."

Cody’s eyes tear up. "Force, you didn’t have to…you didn’t have to do that for me, Rex! You do know that right?”

Rex shakes his head. His eyes light up.

“Cody, I don’t think you understand. I did it because I…” Should I mention our relationship in front of the others?

Cody stares at Rex, waiting for him to finish.

Heh. Screw it! “I care about you a lot. I love you and you know that."

The Bad Batchers smile softly, except for Crosshair, he barely smiles for any reason. Kix and Jesse both gaze at one another. Cody’s breath trembles.

"R-Rex. Force, thank you. Cyare, I love you too.” Cody presses his face into his chest plate. Kix smiles at them.

“Well, his vitals are a lot better, sir. But I think that he should still go back to the base and rest. I don’t want him getting hurt again on this mission and the next time you aren’t able to save him. Okay?” Kix stares them both down firmly. Commander Cody knows not to test Kix’s patience.

“Yessir.” Cody smirks. Kix nods at them and gets up. Then the medic shoos everyone away from the pair so they can have a moment to themselves.

Cody and Rex look at each other before they laugh quietly. Rex’s hand shifts from his bicep to his side. It is there to support him.

“Rest cyare. The shuttle will be here soon and you’ll be back at the base in no time.” Rex offers a small, yet loving smile. Cody leans back against the tree.

“Good. “

The aura around them becomes less tense and more silent. Cody and Rex are thinking about everything that just happened. It happened so fast that Rex wasn’t able to comprehend what happened.

I sacrificed 10 years of my life, and I don’t exactly know how I did it. But one things for sure—

Rex hugs Cody.

“You are reckless sometimes, Rex’ika. You may not have known that would happen; but it did. What if you gave your entire life away for me? And if it’s possible for you to lend over 10 years then I am positively sure you can give away your whole life to me,“ Cody murmurs.

His cyare smiles, unashamed and completely gentle. "I would do anything for you, Cody. You know that.”

“That’s what I am worried about most times too. I am worried you’ll do something that will put your own life on the line for me or someone else you care about. I rather you live than me, I am being honest.” Cody can already feel the heaviness on his eyelids. Sleep is a beautiful thing when it takes you under; away from the pain and suffering.

“I know. But I don’t regret it. Saving you is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” Rex gazes over at the others around the fire pit.

"I have to go now, Cody.“

"Okay. Stay safe, for me.” Cody curls one pinky around Rex’s Index finger. Rex grips his pinky tightly before letting go.

“Of course, Kot'ika."

Rex’s finger slips away from Cody’s grasp. He walks towards the fire pit in front of Cody and begins to talk about what they need to do next. In the soft, moist soil, a couple meters away next to the tree; a small shrub-like Hawthorn flower peeks, shyly, from the ground. With a thorny, shiny, thick stem and five white petals with anthers in the middle of the flower that are pink or red.

Its petals open up slowly, like a venus fly trap, and shine brightly in the dark of night.

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scullyfemme · 4 years

Text

Timing -- Ch. 3

“You’re not Mulder.”

Dreamland time baby!!!

Tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3

<- Previous Chapter | Start from the Beginning | Next Chapter ->

---

“Is this supposed to be a date?” Scully cocked a brow at the dusty Nevada road they were driving down. “You know Kersh will have our asses if he finds out about this.”

“Depends on if you want this to be a date,” he ignored the second half of what she’d said. They passed a mile marker. “Two more miles to go.”

“I’m all a-tingle,” She deadpanned.

She asked about his supposed “source,” who he claimed worked at Area 51, and she found herself thinking about his constant search for proof. For truth. Before they had embarked on this new phase of their relationship, it had started to drain her. But everything had a slightly new feeling to it now that they were together. Like when you finally clean off an old pair of earrings or shine an old pair of shoes and realize how much potential they’d had. To be honest, she was a bit excited to be out on the road with Mulder again like this, though she refused to let him know that. They hadn’t worked anything resembling an X-File in a while.

Still, her mind wandered to thoughts about the people who lived near here. Raising families and buying homes while they drove on, endlessly.

Will that ever be us?

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She realized she’d spoken out loud. “I mean, uh- There are people who live around here. People who live normal lives. Nine-to-five jobs and a cookie-cutter house with a white picket fence and-” she stopped herself from mentioning kids, not wanting to re-open that wound for a casual conversation.

He glanced over at her. “Are you saying you want a nine-to-five job and a cookie-cutter-”

“No, no,” She cut him off, shaking her head. She couldn’t imagine a life in suburbia. “I just mean, like...settling down,” she sighed. “Something resembling a normal life.”

“Well, this is a normal life,” He argued. Seeing her look, he continued. “Normal for us, at least.”

“That’s true,” She said. They didn’t really have lives that lent to normalcy.

“But if you want something normal, then we can try something normal,” He said, reaching over and taking her hand in his, resting them on the center console. “What is it you want? The white picket fence? I can get one for my apartment, but I don’t know where I’ll put it.”

She smiled, her mind slightly more at ease. He’d made a joke, but she knew his sentiment was real. It had always been clear that that sort of life didn’t quite fit him, but he’d be willing to try it. For her.

The sound of tires squealing and the blinding headlights streaming through the car disrupted their moment, and they pulled their hands apart.

“Mulder.”

“I don’t know if we’re going to meet that crackpot after all.”

---

“Come on, Mulder, let’s go,” She tugged on his sleeve, shooting a glare at the man who had confronted them, who had an odd look on his face.

Mulder was uncharacteristically quiet as they drove away, and Scully repeatedly glanced over at him. She didn’t say anything, assuming that he was just stewing about not being able to meet his contact.

When they pulled up to the gas station, she decided to try to pull him out of his funk. “Are you okay, Mulder?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you haven’t said anything since we left those men on the highway. Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine. Gas cap’s on your side.”

She frowned. He always got the gas. He’d even once made a joke about chivalry while she argued that pumping gas was hardly chivalrous. “Okay...if you don’t wanna talk about it.” She got out and started pumping the gas.

Still in the car, Mulder turned the radio on, fiddling with the dial. Her phone rang, slightly muffled by the noise and the confines of the car.

“Mulder?” She called through the window. He didn’t hear her. “Mulder.” She repeated.

No response. Was he ignoring her? Maybe he just couldn’t hear her. She closed her eyes with a sigh of frustration, then left the pump to open the door and get her phone. The music blasted out of the car at deafening levels, but she got in anyway.

“Hello?” She asked, but couldn’t hear over the radio. Her lips pursed, she reached over and turned it down. “Hello?” No response. Whoever was on the other end had hung up. “Ugh.” She hung up and got back out of the car.

“Oh, Dana?” Mulder leaned over. “Want to pick me up a pack of Morleys please?”

Dana? “Since when do you smoke?” She eyed him with doubt. Was this some sort of joke?

He heaved a sigh. “Well, you’re not gonna be a Nazi about it, are you?”

The question genuinely stunned her and she didn’t know how to respond. Slamming the door shut, she went inside, lost in her thoughts.

Mulder didn’t smoke. He’d never smoked. In fact, they’d had multiple conversations where they’d talked about how neither one could even stand the smell of cigarettes after all their dealings with the Cancer Man. So why did he request a pack? He hadn’t seemed any more stressed than usual or anything, so she didn’t understand what could be driving him to smoke.

She recalled their conversation in the car. Was that it? Had her questions about normalcy set him off? He’d seemed receptive enough to it at the time. Maybe it was actually bothering him and he was lashing out in some weird way, trying to push her away before she could ask about it again.

She pursed her lips, feeling a flash of anger. She put back the bag of sunflower seeds she’d grabbed on instinct and stalked out without getting the cigarettes. If he wanted to be a child and not talk about what was wrong, so be it. But she wasn’t going to encourage him. When she got back in the car, Mulder looked over at her expectantly.

“They were out,” She said shortly as she buckled in.

“Of Morleys?”

She shrugged, keeping her eyes forward. She was very clearly mad at him and he knew her well enough to pick up on that, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to. Or if he did, he didn’t say anything.

They drove for a while before she turned to him. “Mulder, if I said something that upset you-”

“God, this again?” He looked at her as if disgusted. “I told you I’m fine, Dana. Jeez, you’re just like my wife.”

“Excuse me?”

A panicked look crossed his face. “A wife,” He corrected. “You’re like a wife.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she had no words. So that was what this was about. One discussion about settling down and he was pushing her away. She hadn’t even said anything about getting married. So much for no regrets.

Scully had half a mind to yell at him, to argue with him. But she couldn’t bring herself to. She didn’t want him to know just how hurt she was, so she sat back in her seat and sulked, staring silently out of her window for the rest of the drive.

---

“‘I’d give you his name if I had it?’” Scully repeated Mulder’s words back to him in an incredulous tone. Their meeting hadn’t gone at all like she’d expected it to. “Whatever happened to protecting our contacts? Protecting our work?”

He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He asked. Hang on a second.”

She watched in disbelief as he went over to chat up Kersh’s assistant. Right in front of her. Scully stood up to her full height in indignation, her lips pressed in a thin line. She’d hoped that whatever streak of pettiness Mulder had displayed last night would be gone by now so that they could have a proper discussion about it, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

He noticed her anger this time as he got back to her. “What?”

“What is going on with you?” She couldn’t help but ask, despite not wanting to discuss this at work.

Mulder scoffed. “Will you please stop trying to pick a fight with me?”

“Mulder, you are acting bizarre!” She hissed.

He turned and looked back at Kersh’s assistant through the office windows, then looked back at her with a gloating smile. “Jealous?” He asked, then slapped her ass before walking off.

Scully’s jaw dropped in shock. Her face burned a bright red with the amount of embarrassment and anger she felt. Her hands curled into fists; she was absolutely fuming now, and she’d had it with him. Once they were off work, she was going to confront him. She might even need her gun.

She angrily chewed her lip as she sat at her desk, occasionally looking up to glare at Mulder as he played some golfing game on his computer. It was strange that he was playing a game at work, much less a golf game, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right now.

Her phone rang. “Scully,” She answered.

“Oh thank goodness. Scully, it’s me.”

She frowned. The phrase was a familiar one; she’d heard it from Mulder countless times. But Mulder was right there. And this voice didn’t sound familiar.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“It’s me, Mulder.”

“Mulder?” From his desk, Mulder waved dismissively, clearly thinking she was talking to him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner," the voice continued. "Look, something really weird happened last night when that UFO passed over us.”

“UFO?” Her frown deepened. That was certainly a very Mulder thing to say, but there hadn’t been a UFO last night. And again, Mulder was right there.

“You don’t remember?” He asked. “You don’t remember. Okay, the man that you’re with, that’s not me. His name is Morris Fletcher. He’s an Area 51 employee.”

“Morris Fletcher,” She repeated as she wrote the name down. A thought crossed her mind. Was this Mulder’s contact? But why would he call her? And why would he claim to be Mulder? She considered getting Mulder’s attention so he could listen in on the call and let her know, but she decided against it. If he could be petty, so could she.

“That’s right.” The man said. “Everyone else seems to think that I’m him, but I’m not. I’m me. I’m Mulder.”

“Look,” She sighed. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but-”

“It’s not a game, Scully, I can prove it. I-” He stopped and was silent for a moment. “Well, I don’t know if this is a secure line. I don’t want to say anything too risky. Are you telling me that Mor- that Mulder hasn’t been acting weird?”

She opened her mouth to defend him on instinct but realized she didn’t have any defense. He had been acting weird. “Well, he-” She stammered, then turned in her chair to prevent Mulder from hearing her. “He, uh, he asked for cigarettes. And...flirted with some woman,” She added under her breath, unable to believe she was confiding in this random man.

“Flirted?” The man sounded disgusted. “See, Scully? I would never do that, you know that. First of all, I wouldn’t want to, especially not now. And second of all, I know you’d probably murder me for that.”

She hesitated. He was right, and it seemed like he was alluding to her and Mulder’s relationship with his comments. But it was just too crazy to believe. “I don’t know…”

The man sighed. “Scully, I love you, but things would be a lot easier if you just believed me sometimes. Look, just get out here as soon as you can, and I’ll prove it to you. I promise.”

I love you? “W- How will I get in touch with you?”

“You won’t. I’ll get in touch with you.” He hung up.

Scully hung up too, staring at the name she’d written down. Morris Fletcher. She’d look him up and have that call traced.

Mulder turned back to her. “Who was that?”

She shot him a glare. “None of your business.”

“Jeez, lady.” Mulder reclined back in his chair. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Scully shot up from her seat, fully intending to lash out at him, but stopped when a few of their desk neighbors looked up at her in surprise. She remembered where she was. Smoothing down her skirt, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, needing to cool off.

---

At the sight of Kersh’s assistant leaving Mulder’s apartment (giving Scully a catty look, to boot), she’d decided it was time to commit murder. She could excuse some of his behavior as weird immature lashing out because he was uncomfortable, but this was taking it way too far. She rapped at his door.

“Just can’t get enough, can you?” His voice sounded from inside.

She fumed at his audacity. “It’s me.”

The door opened and Mulder stood just inside, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and his shirt half off. He looked completely unfazed by her anger. “Oh, hey, Dana.”

Dana again. Since when was he calling her Dana? That was low-priority compared to everything else, though. She burst into his apartment and whirled around to face him as he shut the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was forceful, and she was grateful it wasn’t wavering.

He looked confused by her tone. “Oh, you know, just a little lunch break. What’s up?”

“A lunch break?” She whispered, so mad she couldn’t even speak. “A lunch break?” She repeated, louder. “You have the gall to tout some woman around right in front of me and then play it off as a lunch break?”

He raised his arms in surrender. “Jeez, Dana, I didn’t know I owed you anything.”

“Owe me anything,” She mouthed the words in anger, then took a deep breath, trying to calm down so she didn’t actually murder him. “Mulder, if you- If you wanna break up, this is far from-”

“Break up?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oho! That’s what this is about?”

“Excuse me?” She asked. What else would this be about?

He ignored her, though, his hand going to his chin in amazement. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been wasting my time with that bitch when you and I were an item this whole time?”

Scully stepped backwards, looking and feeling like she’d just been slapped. She’d never heard Mulder call anyone a bitch before. And why was he acting so surprised that they were together? Was this some sort of ploy? Some sick game? A way to act like they’d never been together?

It’s not Mulder, a small voice in the back of her mind said. She instinctively brushed it off, but then thought back to that phone call. That man — Morris Fletcher — had almost made a convincing argument. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t encountered Mulder imposters before. She recalled the shape-shifting man who’d showed up at her motel room to try and kill her years ago. And Eddie van Blundht.

“Well, Dana,” Mulder started speaking again. “I’m real sorry.” (he didn’t sound sorry at all) “I think I just, uh, haven’t been myself. Whaddaya say we start over?” He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,” She stepped back from his grip, her anger flaring up again. She wasn’t going to turn to some crazy theory to excuse Mulder’s actions. And a half-assed apology like that certainly wasn’t going to fix anything. “We’re done.” She spat, then turned and stormed out of his apartment.

“Done?” He called after her. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t answer.

---

Scully blinked in surprise as Morris Fletcher’s wife slapped him and called him a son of a bitch. Not a good day for relationships, huh?

Still a bit stunned, she tried to get her bearings. “I’m sorry, um, Morris Fletcher?”

Fletcher — who looked strangely excited to see her — closed the door and guided her away from it. “Scully, it’s me,” He spoke quietly. “It’s Mulder.”

“Uh,” She shrugged off his hand and stepped back. Why was this man so close to her? “You’re the man from the other night? From Area 51?”

He opened his mouth to answer but was distracted by his wife shouting “Liar!” from the house.

“You phoned me,” Scully continued. “What is this all about?”

Fletcher looked frustrated. “I'm Mulder. I'm really Mulder. I switched bodies, places, identities with this man, Morris Fletcher. The man that you think is Mulder, but he's not.” He added, then seemed to notice his reflection in the window of the car. “Of course you don't believe me. Why was I expecting anything different?” He said, mostly to himself.

She just looked up at him, wondering if this man was crazy. If she was honest, part of her wished he was right, if not to have some reasoning for Mulder’s recent behavior.

After a beat, he turned to her. “Your full name is Dana Katherine Scully. Your badge number is…” He thought for a moment. “Hell! I don't know your badge number. Your mother's name is Margaret, your brother's name is Bill. He's in the Navy and he hates me.”

He does hate Mulder, She thought to herself. But anyone could know that. Her brother would probably buy a billboard if he could.

He continued. “Lately, for lunch, you've been having this six-ounce cup of yogurt — plain yogurt — into which you stir bee pollen because you're on a bee pollen kick, even though I tell you you're a scientist and you should know better.”

She blinked at that. How did he know that? She didn’t even register his wife shouting something else.

“Look…” She floundered for something to say, some reasoning. It was just too crazy to believe. “Any of that information could have been gathered by anyone.” They often ate lunch in the bullpen, now. Tons of people saw her do that.

“Even the bee pollen thing?” He asked, incredulous. “That is so you, that is so Scully. Well, it’s good to know you haven’t changed.” He was nearly ranting now. “That’s somewhat comforting.”

Scully opened her mouth to retaliate. Whatever was going on, it was uncomfortable hearing some strange man act like he knew her.

He took her by the shoulder and guided her even further from the house before she could speak, though. “Look, what about this?” His voice was nearly a whisper, as if he was afraid someone would hear. “We’re together. Only you and I know about that.”

She stiffened. Shrugged off his hand again. “Mr. Fletcher, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but lots of people tend to assume that my partner and I are romantically involved. I can assure you that’s not-”

“Oh, c’mon, cut the crap, Scully!” His voice rose in frustration. He gestured as if searching for something to say. “I can- I can get more specific!”

“I don’t-”

“I told you I loved you in the hospital after you saved me from that ghost ship,” He charged ahead without letting her stop him.

That got her attention. At least enough for her to listen.

“You didn’t wanna believe me,” He continued, slightly calmer now. “You thought it was the drugs. You drove me home after I was discharged and we had an argument about it, and then we-” He stopped and glanced behind himself, as if worried someone would hear. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper. “We slept together. For the first time.”

Her heart pounded with panic. How could he know all of this? “Mr. Fletcher-”

“Afterwards, we ate Chinese food and talked about how we shouldn’t tell anyone. You spent the night and woke up so sore from my couch that you said you’d never do that again, but you have.”

She was about to argue, but paused. He was missing something. “Something happened between those things.”

He smiled. “The Gunmen dropped by. You hid in my room like a teenage girl whose boyfriend’s mom just came home.”

She knew her face was flushed now. It was all too accurate. She shook her head. “Mulder and I have both been bugged before. Spied on. How do I know that’s not how you learned all of this?” It made her deeply uncomfortable to think of someone spying on her and Mulder during such intimate moments, but it was more likely than body swapping.

Fletcher sighed in exasperation. “You really do make me work for everything, don’t you, Scully?” He ran a hand through his hair — the same way Mulder did, she realized — then looked back down at her. “Okay. Ask me anything.”

She licked her lips in thought, trying to think of a good question. “What was our first date?”

He smirked. “Depends who you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you.”

“The cemetery,” He said with a small smile. “You laughed.”

Her throat tightened. Part of her wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that all of the craziness between her and Mulder today was because it wasn’t Mulder. But the investigative part of her brain pointed out that they’d had that conversation in a public place. Someone could have overheard. She searched for a memory, something she could ask him about where she knew they were totally and completely alone.

Try any of that Tailhook crap on me, Scully, I’ll kick your ass, Mulder’s voice sounded in her head.

She looked up at Fletcher. “What did I sing to you?” No further explanation.

He frowned for a second, as if confused by the question. Then recognition crossed his face and he smiled. “Joy to the World.”

Her lips parted in shock and she leaned forward, searching his face as if half-expecting it to open like some sort of skin suit, revealing someone else. “Mulder?” She whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“Yeah,” He smiled, breathless with relief and nodding emphatically. “It’s me, Scully.”

Her gaze wandered, her mouth agape. “I don’t- How?”

“Something flew over us the other night,” He explained. “A UFO or something. No one else seems to remember it but me. And Morris, I’m assuming. I don’t know how it did it, but all of a sudden I was watching you get in the car with Morris, only you thought he was me.”

She didn’t seem to be fully paying attention to him, though, still reeling at this discovery. After a moment, she looked away in thought. “I was so mad at him,” She murmured quietly, as if to herself.

“Morris?” He asked. “What did he do?”

“He-” She ducked her chin in embarrassment. “I caught him...fooling around with Kersh’s assistant,” She muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

“He what?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise, which quickly turned to anger.

“I don’t- I don’t know if they actually slept together-”

“Oh my God,” He buried his face in his hands.

“But I saw her leaving his — your — apartment,” She said, looking thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing. “She wasn’t fully dressed.”

Fletcher — Mulder, she reminded herself — lifted his head up to look at her. “Scully, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t do that, you know that.” He looked genuinely contrite, knowing how she must have felt witnessing that.

She nodded thoughtfully, feeling relieved despite the fact that she still wasn’t fully sure she believed him. That was more like Mulder. After a moment, she spoke. “So...what do we do now? I mean, how do we fix…” She gestured to all of him. “This?”

“Unfortunately, I’m still looking into that,” He said. “I’m gonna go back to ‘work’ and try to get ahold of something — a piece of evidence.” He leaned a bit closer. “Can you meet me tonight? I’ll need you to take it to the Gunmen and have it analyzed.”

She hesitated, not exactly excited for yet another four-hour flight back to Washington (and probably another flight back here). She thought for a moment. “Is that going to help us change you back?”

“I don’t know,” He admitted. “But it’s at least a starting point. Can you meet me, Scully?”

“Hold on, Mulder,” She lifted a hand as if to stop him. It would take both parties to switch bodies back. “We have to think about this. Even if we find a way to fix this, there’s no guarantee that we can do it without Fletcher’s cooperation. He might even know how to do it. But he definitely doesn’t seem interested in giving up your life anytime soon.”

“What are you saying?”

She chewed her lip. “I’m saying that...as much as it’ll probably kill me, I’m gonna have to gain his trust. Go along with his charade. I might be able to get some information from him in case we don’t find anything with this ‘evidence.’”

He smirked, and she thought she could see a ghost of Mulder’s smirk on that ugly face. “You’re not gonna kiss him, are you?”

Her face scrunched up with disgust, which was all the answer he needed. “Where do you need me to meet you?” She asked.

“I’ll get in touch with you.”

---

Mulder — Fletcher — had followed her. That was the only explanation. How else would he have known that she went back to Nevada? Or that she’d talked to “Fletcher?”

She’d been backed into a corner. Kersh had threatened her job, and there was no knowing how much she could help Mulder if she got fired. Plus, she needed to gain Fletcher’s trust.

Mulder approached her in the gas station, a paper bag in his hands. “Scully, I got it. I got the proof.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him, instead only looking up at him with guilt. He registered it a split second too late as multiple vehicles pulled up, nearly blinding him with their lights.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before turning away, unable to watch as the soldiers barged in and took the bag from him before cuffing him.

“Scully?” His voice was more urgent now.

She looked back at him, her expression saying what she couldn’t out loud. I had to, Mulder. I’m so sorry.

She thought she saw understanding register in his face, but they were both distracted as Fletcher walked in, flanked by two other men. “Damn it, Morris,” One of them said to Mulder.

Mulder ignored him, though, completely losing it at the sight of Fletcher in his own body. “You! You son of a bitch!” He fought against the soldiers who were holding him. “You orchestrated this whole thing!” He continued struggling — fruitlessly — as the soldiers dragged him out of the store. “You bastard! Tell them the truth! He’s not me, Scully! Would I do this?”

At the sound of her name, she had to turn away again, pressing her lips together to fight the tears in her eyes. Did he think she didn’t believe him? That she’d willingly helped Fletcher do this?

I didn’t have a choice. She kept repeating that in her head as if it could shake away the feeling that she’d just betrayed her best friend. Her partner. The person who trusted her more than anyone else in the world.

She would fix this. She had to.

After a few moments, she felt Fletcher’s hand on her shoulder and had to resist the urge to shrug it off.

“You hate me now, right?” He asked. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Dana, I’m sorry I narced on you to Kersh, but I was afraid you’d lose your job. I mean, when you stomped out of my apartment and I found out you were going to Nevada, I was worried you were going to do something crazy.”

She bit back a million retorts that built up in her mind, instead setting her jaw and turning to face him with a carefully even expression. “You did the right thing, Mulder.”

He blinked in surprise. “I did?”

She gave a tight smile. “I’ve been telling you for years you should play more by the book, haven’t I?”

He smiled with relief, unable to read her body language the way the real Mulder could. “Hey, it’s the new me.”

---

Two weeks suspension without pay. And on top of that, she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to dinner with Fletcher. Or that he’d asked. Was it really that easy to win him over after she’d nearly ripped his head off? A simple “you were right” and he thought everything was okay? She’d been even more stunned when he suggested a home-cooked meal. As far as she was aware, Mulder wasn’t exactly a master chef. In fact, she wasn’t sure what he could cook. Everything he did further squashed any doubts she had that Mulder — the real Mulder — had been telling the truth.

Still, she had to get Fletcher to cooperate. And she had a plan. She double-checked that she had her cuffs and gun before knocking on the door.

The sight of Mulder wearing an apron that said “something smells good” would normally be enough to make her bust out laughing, but unfortunately there was little to be found funny about this situation.

“Perfect timing,” Fletcher said. “Welcome.”

It wasn’t until he moved aside that she noticed how clean the apartment was. “Wow.” Her eyebrows shot up, genuinely impressed. A small part of her noted what a shame it was that it took some weird body-switching scenario for Mulder’s apartment to be cleaned. She was so stunned that she barely even noticed Fletcher taking her coat.

“You like, huh?” He asked a little too close to her ear. “Yeah, I thought it was time I stopped living like a frat boy.” He shrugged. “Come see the rest of the place.” Taking her hand, he led her through the living room and into the bedroom.

If the sight of Mulder’s clean apartment stunned her, then the sight of his bedroom — completely spotless and now including a bed — nearly overwhelmed her. Her jaw dropped at the sight. She was surprised to find a part of her actually missed the boxes and dusty Playboys. It may have been annoying, but at least it had been Mulder.

“Come. Sit.” Fletcher excitedly patted the bed.

“Um, no,” She started to back out, worried he was trying to trap her into something. There was a difference between going along with his act and going so far as to sleep with him.

“Seriously, just check it out.” He reached out and pulled her by the wrist and sat her down on the bed. It moved under her way more than a normal mattress should.

Oh, God. A waterbed? she thought, trying to hide her disgust. He sat down beside her and the movement of the bed knocked her off balance, falling back onto it. Her jaw dropped again as she saw her own reflection staring down at her, and her face flushed at the thought of being able to see herself during... certain activities.

Fletcher propped himself up on his elbow. “D’ya hate it?” He asked, grinning devilishly.

She hesitated, trying to calm herself. “No, I don’t hate it,” she said, and unfortunately it wasn’t a complete lie. As awful as a waterbed was and as horrifying as an above-bed mirror was, at least Mulder had a bed now. Once this was all over, she might be able to actually stay the night here without stiff muscles. Perhaps just mild nausea from the waterbed.

His grin widened. “Well, alright then. Don’t go away.” The bed shifted nauseatingly as he got up and left the room. When he came back with champagne and accompanying flutes, Scully couldn’t stop her eyebrows from shooting upwards. Big plans.

He handed her a flute and she stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, deciding it was time for one last test. She was already certain that this man wasn’t Mulder, but as a scientist she needed all the evidence she could gather.

“Mulder,” She kept her voice light. “Remember that time we were lost in the woods down in Florida? And you got injured?”

He frowned, looking a bit panicked. “Uhh, vaguely. Why?”

“I just-” She shook her head with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t seem to remember the name of the song that I sang to you. Do you remember? The tune’s been stuck in my head all day,” She added, then started humming the chords to “Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown” to throw him off.

“Oh, that’s the, um-” Fletcher snapped his fingers a couple times, trying to remember. “The Jim Croce song. Leroy Brown.”

“Thaaat’s right,” She said as if she’d just remembered. “And that was what I sang to you?”

“Of course,” He turned his attention back to the champagne bottle. “I vividly remember that part.” He winked.

“Mhm,” She nodded, her jaw tight. She licked her lips and then turned to him. “Do you know what would really be fun?”

“What?”

She pulled out her handcuffs and dangled them in front of him with a cocked eyebrow. Fletcher looked like he’d nearly come on the spot. “Oh, yeah. Me first?”

“You first,” She smirked.

Excited, he couldn’t seem to take the cuffs from her fast enough. While he cuffed himself to the bed, she stood up and pulled out her gun. “Now what?” He asked, turning back, but flinched in surprise when he saw her gun aimed at him.

“You’re not Mulder.”

The panicked look on his face was nearly comical. “What?” The champagne cork popped at that moment, and Scully could already imagine laughing about that with the real Mulder in the future. “Baby-”

“‘Baby’ me and you’ll be peeing through a catheter,” She said, lowering the aim of her gun. “Your name is Morris Fletcher. It was Mulder who was arrested in the desert. Now, how do we get things back to normal?”

---

Fletcher had turned out to be completely useless and somehow knew nothing, but luckily Mulder’s source called while Scully was interrogating him. And after two more flights to Nevada and back — along with a nearly unsuccessful bar adventure — they arrived at the Lone Gunmens’ lair, flight recorder in tow.

Scully pressed on the buzzer. “Open up,” She called out. After a few moments, she started hearing the clicks and clanks that meant someone was unlocking the various locks.

Frohike opened the door. “Mulder.” He let them in, and Scully tried to brush off the fact that she hadn’t been greeted. It wasn’t even really Mulder, after all. “If I had known you were coming, I would have made more salsa.”

“We need your help right now,” Scully said, offering up the flight recorder to Langly.

“Who crashed?” He looked it over with interest.

“Who, what, why,” She said. “I need to know everything that’s on that data recorder.”

The three rattled off technical terms that she didn’t care to remember, then Byers turned to Fletcher. “Where did you get this?” He asked him.

What am I, chopped liver? “Groom Lake,” Scully answered. “Outside Area 51.”

“Dreamland.” Frohike raised his eyebrows. They had a brief discussion about some spy plane before Fletcher — browsing through an issue of the Lone Gunman — started giggling to himself.

“What’s with him?” Frohike asked.

“Ignore him,” she said.

“Mulder-”

“He’s not Mulder,” She corrected with exasperation.

All three Gunmen turned to her with questioning looks.

“This aircraft.” She pointed at the flight recorder. “When it crashed it somehow resulted in a…a body swap. Between Mulder and…” She gestured to Fletcher. “This asshole.”

The three looked confused, both by the situation and by the fact that Scully was the one saying these sorts of things. They laughed nervously, but stopped when they saw she wasn’t laughing along with them.

“Asshole?” Fletcher sounded offended, putting down the paper and approaching her. “Listen here, lady, you probably wouldn’t have even realized I wasn’t Mulder if you two weren’t banging.”

Scully stiffened, feeling three pairs of eyes slowly turn to look at her.

“Banging?” Langly asked.

She clenched her jaw, thinking quickly. “No, he’s just trying to rile me up because I embarrassed him when I caught him with Kersh’s secretary.”

“Kersh’s secretary?”

“Ah,” Fletcher nodded in understanding. “Keeping it a secret, huh?”

“There’s no secret to keep,” She bit back, her eyes threatening murder. Fletcher seemed more amused than fazed, though, which only angered her more.

The Gunmen exchanged looks, unsure who to believe. Scully inwardly groaned. Great. Now the three most suspicious men in the world had reason to wonder if she and Mulder were together. That'll be fun to deal with.

“Who the hell are you?” Frohike asked him.

Fletcher explained who he was, then managed to rile the three of them up by claiming to be the one who came up with most of their stories. Scully let it continue at first, simply grateful that they were distracted from the topic of her relationship with Mulder. But then Frohike brandished his spatula.

“The name’s Frohike, you punk ass. What the hell did you do with Mulder?”

“Shut up, all of you,” Scully stepped in, then pointed to the flight recorder. “If you guys want Mulder back, then get me these results.”

---

“You don’t look too happy. Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to put two kids through school.”

Scully looked up at Mulder, hugging herself. She still couldn’t quite believe it was him. “I just got off the phone with Frohike.”

She explained how the whole thing had been reliant on completely random variables — ones that they had next to no chance of replicating. And even if they could, there was no guarantee that it would work.

Looking completely downtrodden now, Mulder glanced over to the car where Fletcher sat. “What about him?”

She followed his gaze and sighed. “‘Agent Mulder’ has become Kersh’s new golden boy. The son of a bitch confesses to Kersh more than I do to my priest. I’m just tagging along for the ride.”

He turned back to her. “What do you mean, ‘just tagging along?’”

She pressed her lips together. “I’m out of the Bureau. I’ve been censured and relieved of my position.”

“No.” His voice was nearly a whisper. “You can explain it to them like you explained it to me,” he said urgently “You have the data. You can make them understand. You can get your job back.”

She looked back up at him affectionately, appreciating his sympathy. But she felt no desire to continue at the Bureau without him. Or worse — with a fake him.

“I’d kiss you if you weren’t so damn ugly,” she said, and meant it. By far one of the worst parts of this situation was that she wasn’t able to give him a proper goodbye. They’d known each other for years, but their relationship was still so new. Ever since it started, she’d been afraid of how it might end, but she’d never imagined it would be like this. Forced apart by some weird, random X-File. Not even a conspiracy, just completely random variables within a nearly impossible feat of science. She supposed it was some sort of poetic justice, maybe they even deserved it. Like so many other times before, a chance for happiness was being stolen away from her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Mulder smiled wistfully at her and nodded, looking like he wanted to kiss her anyway. They stared into each other's eyes the way they always did, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same things she was, but the moment was interrupted by Fletcher honking the horn.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” He called out, his head hanging out of the window.

“If I shoot him, is that murder or suicide?”

“Neither, if I do it first.” She squeezed his arm, then turned towards the car.

“Hey, Scully.”

She turned back, and he held out a closed hand in offering. She held out her own, and he dropped some sunflower seeds into it before taking one back to put in his mouth. Yep, she thought, looking up at him. That’s Mulder.

She got in the car and watched him get in his. What kind of lives would they have now? She didn’t know what she would do when she got back home. She couldn’t even teach at the academy anymore. Maybe she would turn back to medicine, finally returning to what would have made her parents proud years ago.

She only knew two things for certain: she wouldn’t stop searching for a way to fix this, to bring Mulder back. And she wouldn’t stop investigating X-Files. What was his life’s work had become hers as well, and she could only hope that continuing to investigate them would help heal what was being broken at having to leave him like this. Maybe she would even find a solution to this problem buried in a random case.

And what about Mulder? She indulged in wondering what he would do with his life as she drove. He had a wife now. And kids. And a more regular job than theirs had been. That normalcy that she’d asked about, he was now forced to experience without her. No doubt he’d try to repair Fletcher’s marriage despite the fact that he wasn’t him and didn’t love his wife. That was just the kind of person Mulder was. He’d learn to like the kids, probably even grow attached to them. Despite his insistence on being a misfit and an outcast, he had a knack for dealing with others. When he tried.

He’d go to work, probably using it as a way to get the inside scoop on some X-Files. She knew he’d never stop investigating them, either. Maybe someday, by complete coincidence, they’d meet up again on the same case. They’d catch up, and it would be nice, except it wouldn’t be. Because it would still be Mulder, but it wouldn’t be him, not fully.

She wiped away a stray tear as Fletcher started talking, telling some story about the motel manager.

---

“Come on, Mulder, let’s go.” Scully tugged on his sleeve, shooting a glare at the man who had confronted him. She saw him light a cigarette as they drove away.

For some reason, the four-hour red-eye back to Washington felt like it was nearly the tenth one she’d made. She brushed it off, assuming it was just because they were always flying. Mulder — in the seat next to her — looked like he was trying and failing to sleep.

“Sorry your confidential source didn’t pan out,” she murmured, not wanting to wake anyone who was actually sleeping.

He turned to her with a smile, then took her hand. “Well, I guess you were right, Scully. Just another crackpot who watches too much Star Trek.”

They managed to get back in time to change clothes at her apartment and go to work, where the two yawned all day and barely got any actual work done. Luckily, their unauthorized trip to Nevada seemed to go unnoticed by Kersh. At one point, Scully opened her desk drawer and noticed what looked like two coins fused together. Where had that come from? She considered getting Mulder’s attention to show it to him, but decided she was too tired to hear a conspiracy ramble today.

After work, they walked to her car (not having had time to drive him by his place to pick up his car before work). She yawned. “It’s Friday,” -which was strange. Wasn’t it just Monday? Maybe she was more tired than she thought- “are you staying at my place tonight? Or would you rather sleep alone?”

He yawned back. “I don’t know, Scully. After being treated to the comforts of your bed, it’s been getting harder and harder to fall asleep on my couch.”

“You should get your own bed, then,” she quipped, putting her car into gear.

“Then what would be my excuse for spending the night at your place?”

She snorted. “I can think of a few.”

They dropped by his place so he could grab some things, and she begrudgingly followed him up to his apartment, sleepily leaning against the wall next to his door as he unlocked it. His jaw dropped when he opened the door, then he checked his apartment number as if unable to believe he was at the right unit.

“Mulder?” She straightened up. “What’s wrong?”

Wordless, he gestured into his apartment, and she turned to look. Her own jaw dropped at the sight of the spotlessly clean apartment with a few new tasteful decorations. They both stepped into it, mouths agape, and looked around.

“Mulder, did you...hire someone?” Her voice pitched up higher than usual due to her state of shock.

“No, I-” He stammered, then looked at her. “You aren’t joking with me, are you? Was this you?”

She shook her head, her eyebrows raised in innocence. “It looks nice,” she said, then turned to him with a cocked brow and a smirk. “But where will you put the white picket fence?”

He smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. “Oh, I was thinking right about here, in the middle of everything.”

She grinned at him, but he looked away, distracted. He’d noticed that his bedroom door was open and went over to it, peering inside.

“Scully.”

“What?” She rushed over to look, following him into the room, but stopped short at the sight of a new bed. Standing proudly in the middle of his now-clean room. “Holy crap, Mulder. How- How did this get here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was a gift. Maybe someone overheard you badgering me to get one,” he joked, but she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Mulder,” She muttered, leaning towards the bed and looking up. He followed her gaze and saw his own reflection looking back. Slowly, they both turned to look at each other with equal amounts of incredulity.

“Well,” He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “I guess...gift horse and all that.”

“Mulder, you’re not at all suspicious about how this happened?”

“Right now, all I care about is getting some sleep. And now I’ve got a bed.” He sat down on it and was startled by how much it moved.

“A waterbed?” Scully’s eyebrows looked like they would just about shoot off her forehead.

He groaned and flopped back fully. “Just when I thought my back would get a break.”

#kai.fic #xf fanfic #msr fanfic #timing fic

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plugloveff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4

Meek:

“So what do you think of my offer ?” Carter asked taking a sip of his scotch.

Staring into my glass, I let what he said sink in.

“Offer expires in 10 seconds” Carter stated.

"It sound's good but I still have to talk to my team" I replied.

“Your the head man right? You make the decisions and they are either on board or not” Carter stated.

“Ight deal” I said.

Carter smiled and extended his hand for me to shake. "One thing, Chanel doesn't need to know about this".

“Why?“

“She just doesn’t need to know the details of our business. And I’m sure she doesn’t know the amount of bodies you have on your resume or the play by play of what you do on a daily” He stated.

Nodding my head in agreement I took a sip of my drink. “So, how did this meeting go? I tell her what exactly?" I asked.

"The meeting went well and I gave you my blessing. That's all she needs to know" he said finishing his drink.

Waving over the bartender he reached for his Wallet.

“I got it” I said reaching into my pocket.

Carter stopped me, "My business deal I pay" he said pulling two hundred dollar bills off his money clip and tossing them on the counter.

"I'll be in touch Ahmeek" he said before walking out.

Tossing the rest of my drink back I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Dre and Wayne to meet me at the warehouse for a meeting.

Walking out of the restaurant I handed the valet my ticket. Taking in my surroundings I thought about the conversation I had with Carter. I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

Seeing my Range Rover come into view I slid behind the wheel. The music was blasting from my custom speakers as I sped off into the Miami night, it was time to talk money.

_________

"You dead ass right now?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah” I replied taking a hit of my blunt.

“Damn that’s a good deal” Dre replied.

Nodding in agreement, I thought of all the money that could be made during his deal. We were rich but this would take us to a whole new level.

“I’m sure Chanel is going to be happy to know you and her father are getting along” Wayne said.

Blowing the smoke out my mouth I shook my head. "She can't know about the deal"

"Wait what? How you expect to keep this from her ?” Dre asked.

"Nothing's changed she doesn't know about the day to day operations. I'm just the same ole street nigga "

"Ight bro ” Wayne said.

“Don’t go running your mouth’s to Steph and Aria either. This shit don’t leave this fucking table” I stated.

Wayne and Dre nodded in understanding.

Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Chanel’s name flash on the screen. Speak of the devil.

Chanel : Are you still with my dad? How is it going?

Meek: Nah, I'm on my way back now.

“Ight I’m bouta head out I’ll let y'all know when I hear something” I said getting up from the table and dapping them both.

“Aight Brodie stay up” Wayne said.

Exactly twenty minutes later I was stepping off Chanel’s elevator. The condo was dark the only light coming from the Miami skin line peeking through the windows.

I could hear the sound of music coming from Chanel’s bedroom. Kicking off my shoes I dropped my keys on the counter and followed the sound into her bedroom.

When I walked in my breathe caught in my throat. Chanel was spread across her bed in a red lace baby doll that didn’t leave much for the imagination. I could feel the blood rush to my dick seeing how the red material clung to her caramel skin.

“Hi” she said looking up from her phone.

“Hi Mama” I said.

“Come here” she said sitting up on her heels. Giving a better view of the Lacey number.

Walking over to her my eyes raked over her body. When I was inches away from her she sat up on her knees so she was almost eye level with me.

“I missed you” she said. I could smell the wine on her breath, she was intoxicated.

“I missed you to baby girl” I said running his hand down her cheek.

“How did it go with my dad?" she asked.

"Nah, we not about to talk about your dad, when you looking like this" I said licking my lips.

"But baby, I've been up all night thinking about what happened. You can't not tell me" she said.

“Shhhh, we'll talk about it later" I said.

Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck I pulled her into me crashing my lips against her's. My tongue slipped into her mouth, she moaned against my lips and I grabbed a handful of her ass pulling her into me. Her hands slid down my body till she got to my dick. She gripped me through my pants. Groaning I pulled back from her. “Take it off” I ordered taking off my clothes.

Chanel quickly threw the baby doll over her head and tossed it onto the floor.

Placing one knee on the bed I climbed on top of her. My dick stood at attention pressing against her center. I could feel her wetness on my dick. I trailed kisses down her neck to her D cup breast. Cupping one in my hand I wrapped my mouth around it sucking hard, drawing circles around her nipple with my tongue.

Chanel’s back arched in pleasure. "Meek please” she moaned.

Smirking I took her other breast into my mouth. I wanted her so badly but I couldn’t give on breast attention without giving some to the other.

“Meeeek” Chanel moaned.

Having teased her enough I released her breast from my mouth. Nestling in the crook of her neck I guided my dick inside of her.

Chanel’s back arched and she gasped as I filled her. I hissed feeling her wrap around me. Fuck I missed this.

Pumping in and out of her slowly, I could feel her wetness dripping down my balls.

“Fuck baby” I hissed.

“Harder baby” Chanel moaned into my ear.

Lifting her legs slightly I pumped in and out of her faster. Chanel’s nails dug into my back and I knew I'd have bruises in the morning, but I didn’t care. Sucking on her neck marking my territory, she was mine all mine.

“God Meek I’m about to cum” Chanel screamed.

“Cum for me” I whispered in her ear. On command I felt Chanel’s grip on my dick tighten. Her legs locked around my waist, her back arching further off the bed as she came.

Gritting my teeth I felt the swell of my balls, I was close. I pumped in and out of her faster. There was nothing gentle about it I was claiming every inch of her pussy. It was mine.

“Oh shit” I groaned spilling my seeds inside her.

When I was done I collapsed on top of her. Both of us trying to catch our breaths. Wrapping my arm around her waist I pulled her into my chest and drifted off to sleep.

Chanel:

Gripping my pillow I yawned and opened my eyes. Meek's side of the bed was empty and from the feel of it he'd been gone for a while. Sitting up in the mattress I looked around my room and noticed a small piece of paper on my nightstand. Grabbing it I read the note:

I left you breakfast in the microwave. There’s some money on the dresser go buy yourself something nice to wear because I’m taking you out tonight. I’ll see you later beautiful. - M

Smiling at the note I threw the cover's off my body and grabbed my phone. Walking into the bathroom I sent a message to Cassidy to see if she was up for a shopping trip. And started to get ready.

Thirty minutes later I was dressed in denim shorts, a Dior t-shirt and matching Dior sneaker’s. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and my makeup was light.

Walking into the kitchen I warmed up my food, waiting for Cassidy to pick me up.

When I saw the French toast, bacon and eggs in the plate I smiled. Meek always paid close attention to things that I liked. I was just digging into my food when my phone rang in my back pocket.

“Hey Ari” I said putting my phone on speaker.

“Wassup? What you doing today I’m bored” Aria asked

“Going shopping with Cass you wanna come?” I asked

“Yes, what time y'all going?“

"I’m waiting on her now should be here in like 45"

"Alright I’ll meet y'all there. I’ll ask Steph if she want’s to come"

"Cool, I’ll see you in a few than” I said.

I just finished my food when I got a text from Cassidy that she was downstairs.

Running my room I grabbed my bag and stuffed the thirty-thousand dollar’s Meek left in my purse along with my sunglasses I left.

Cassidy:

Scrolling though my instagram I waited for Chanel to come downstairs. Double tapping on a few pictures I nodded my head to the beat of the music blaring through the speakers of my G-Wagon.

A gentle tap on my window, grabbed my attention. When I saw Chanel I quickly unlocked the door.

“Took you long enough” I said.

“I didn't even take ten minutes ” Chanel replied

Shaking my head I pulled away from the curb.

"Are you looking for something in particular today or we just blowing a bag?" I asked.

“I don’t know Meek just told me we're going out tonight, he wasn’t specific so probably a dress or maybe a jumpsuit” Chanel replied.

"So it's a date"

"Yeah"

"So how did thing's go with dad?" I asked.

"Well I didn't go to dinner so he, was at my apartment when I got home and we argued for a little then he told me he wanted to meet Meek. When I told Meek he told me to set up the meeting but he didn't want me to be there. He wasn't told me exactly what went down he just said Dad gave his blessing" she said.

"Wait he what?" I asked

"He gave his blessing, I even called dad to make sure and he said yeah he likes Meek. I don't know what the fuck happened and Meek refuses to tell me. But I guess it's all good. Thats one less problem for me to worry about" she said.

"Wow" I said trying to wrap my head around it. My father and I didn't have the best relationship and it was mostly because he was so controlling. He was a man of power and he abused it, which was something I couldn't deal with. I hated being controlled which is probably why I found a yes man to be in a relationship with.

"Alright enough about me and my life. Tell me about your vacation" Chanel said snapping me from my thoughts.

"Bora Bora was amazing" I said thinking back on my trip, it was beautiful but I couldn't help but think about how unhappy I am with Chris.

"I'm sensing a but here" Chanel said.

Biting my lip, I kept my eyes trained on the road. I didn't have the heart to look at Chanel because she'd see right through me she always could.

"Nothing" I said

"Cassidy, don't lie to me I'm your big sister and I'm here for you no matter what. Anything you need and i'm here" Chanel said.

"I know Coco, I'm just not ready to talk about it" I said.

"Well I'm here when you do" she said.

"Thanks" I said pulling into a parking spot at the front of the mall.

"Neiman's first?"

"Ofcourse" I said hopping out of my truck.

Sliding down my sunglasses, I walked into the mall with Chanel following close behind me.

Three hours later I was leaned up against the cash register, while Chanel paid for her stuff. When Chanel pulled out a stack of money from her purse my eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Since when do you carry cash? And in rubber bands?" I asked watching her count the money.

"I don't, Meek left me money this morning" she replied handing the cashier 7,000 dollars.

Cassidy leaned against the cash register as Chanel paid for her stuff. They were on hour four of shopping and this was probably their seventh store.

“That’s sweet. When am I going to meet Mr. Meek anyway?” I asked as we walked towards Steph and Aria.

“I don’t know, soon hopefully” Chanel replied.

“Good I have to make sure my sister is in good hands” I said.

“Oh she’s def in good hands” a male voice said.

Turning around to find who the voice belonged too, I assumed it was Meek from the huge grin on Chanel's face. Taking in him I mentally applauded my sister, Meek was a huge upgrade from Robert's bum ass and the smile that was plastered on her face and he way his eyes lit up looking at her I could see they loved each other.

“What are you doing here? And how the hell did you find me?” Chanel asked pulling away from him.

He smirked “I can’t give up my sources” he said.

Chanel looked over her shoulder at Steph “You told him didn’t you?” Chanel asked.

“Nah, I told Wayne ass where we were. Where is he anyway? ” Steph asked.

"They waiting for me at the jeweler, but I had to swing by and see my shawty real quick" Meek said wrapping his arm around Chanel's waist.

Chanel beamed up at him in response. “Oh, Meek this is my little sister Cassidy. Cass, this is Meek” Chanel said introducing us.

“Wassup lil sis” he said letting go of Chanel and pulling me in for a hug.

“Lil sis huh ?” I asked playfully.

“Yeah you family, cause lord know’s I ain’t ever letting this one go” he said looking down at Chanel and she blushed in response.

I smiled and nodded my head in approval “I like him” I said.

“You ready to be out baby girl or you still got some stores you wanna hit up?” Meek asked.

“We have like three more stores” Aria answered.

“Aight, you drove?” Meek asked Chanel.

“Nah I came with Cass"

"Aight I gotta finish up at the Jewelry store a couple blocks away. Text me when you done. You need more money?” he asked her.

“No I still have like 15 from what you gave me” she replied.

Meek reached in his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. “Here’s another 10” he said handing it to her.

“Meek I’m good” she said.

“Chanel take it” he said.

"Ahmeek seriously I'm good"

"Coco, it's my treat take the money"

Before Chanel could protest again I took the money out of his hand.

Meek smirked, "There's 5 in there for you little sis. Enjoy" he said taking the shopping bags out of Chanel's hands.

"See I really like you now" I said stuffing the money in my purse.

"Later baby" Chanel said stepping on her tippy toes and kissing Meek.

"Umm, don't take all day I got plans for you Ms. Wright"

"Y'all so nasty" I said grabbing Chanel's hand pulling her away from a laughing Meek.

Chanel:

“Where are you taking me?” I asked Meek. My eyes were blindfolded and he was holding my hand guiding me. I could see the ocean but I honestly had no clue where we were.

“You’ll see in about 30 seconds” he said.

We walked for another 20 steps before he stopped. “Can I take this off now?” I asked.

“No. I’m going to pick you up" he said

"Ok” I said feeling Meek scoop me up in his arms. I felt us sway and I clung to him, "you better not drop me" I said.

Meek chuckled, "I’m not”

We climbed up a few steps before he stopped. He placed me on my feet.

“Ok, I’m going to take it off now” he said

“Finally” I said impatiently. Meek gently removed the blindfold from my eyes. I gasped when I saw where we were. We were in the middle of a yacht on the harbor, there were red and white rose petals leading to a candle lit dinner.

I felt like I was in a movie this time of thing only happened in movies. It didn't feel real men didn't do this in real life. Not where I was from, but here I was with this perfect man who did shit like this out of fairy tales. I was in complete awe, and I was fighting back tears.

“Do you like it?” Meek asked.

“Baby I love it thank you” I said kissing him.

“Come on let’s eat, we’re about to set sail in a few” Meek said taking my hand and leading me to the table. Pulling out a chair for me, I took a seat and Meek sat across from me. Just as the captain signaled that we were pulling away from the dock.

“This is beautiful” I said.

“I agree” Meek said.

Looking over at him, he was staring at me instead. I smiled but before I could say anything a waiter appeared with two trays.

"Herb-roasted Lobster and Steak” he said placing the food in front of Meek.

“Garlic butter Lobster and Shrimp with garlic mash potatoes” he said placing a dish in front of me.

“Thank you” Il said as the waiter poured wine into our glasses before disappearing.

“Ahmeek, this is amazing, thank you” I said

“Nah, ma you deserve this. I realized I never took you on an official date and I had to make up for us being together for two months and never taking you out. Plus you deserve the world and I plan on spending my entire life spoiling you" he said.

I bit my lip trying to stop the tears from falling.

“Eat up” Meek said smiling and taking a bite of his Steak.

_______

“You really outdid yourself for a first date” I said leaning against his chest.

“It’s only going to get better from here” Meek said

“Always one to try and out do yourself"

"Yeah I gotta stay on top of my game so you don’t leave me”

“I’m not going anywhere"

"Good, because I love you too much to let you go” Meek said.

My body stilled against his and my heart raced. "You what?" I asked making sure I heard him correctly.

Meek turned me to face him. "You've changed me ma, you got a nigga feeling stuff that I've never felt before. I'd do anything or you, your'e my whole heart man, you got me doing all this emotional ass shit that's not me but for you I'd do it all. So I need you to hear me and understand me when I say I love you. I know it's only been two months, but you have me wrapped around you finger. I'm all in with you I want it all, I'd go to war with the world for you. We locked in forever 25 to life" he said.

I didn't fight the tears anymore, I couldn't. “I love you too” I replied kissing him.

#pluglove #plugloveff #jordyn woods #jordynwoodsff #donnell blaylock #taina williams #jaydawayda #dababy #Roddy Ricch #saweetie #omari hardwick #fanfic #fan fic blog #Hood Love #love story

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siribear · 4 years

Text

somehow, their mattress survived the bombs. the bed frame? not so much. with codsworth’s help, she drags the splintered wood out of the house. other than that, she can’t bring herself to remove anything else from the house. not the ruined stereo, the blasted television, the broken kitchen chairs. codsworth had two hundred years to clean up the glass and wood and dust, but other than that, her home remains untouched.

two centuries ago, she stood in shaun’s room with her husband. played with the mobile above shaun’s crib that’s only shattered bits of plastic and string, now. she doesn’t move that, either. just moves the dusty old books back to their ruined shelves.

she changes into the leather armor in her old bathroom. doesn’t look in the mirror for fear of what she might see.

back in her room, she lays out her new guns and ammo. codsworth hovers nearby, reminding her how to clean them when she misses a step. she replaces her supplies in her pack, hides nate’s wedding ring in a pocket near the bottom, and shoves it in a corner.

claire lies back on her old mattress. she expects to sleep, but doesn’t. every time she closes her eyes, she sees the dead raiders. the ones she tore apart.

instead, she spends the remaining daylight finding beds for the others. it feels strange, looting her neighbors’ houses, but she ignores the feeling the best she can. in the ruins, she finds enough beds for the longs, for mama murphy, and sturges. at the back of one of the houses is a basement, and there she finds a sleeping bag and a store of food that can last them a few days.

she unloads a duffel bag in the house across from hers, and the group divvies up the food. when preston pokes his head in, she unrolls the sleeping bag and apologizes.

he shrugs. ‘i’ve slept on worse. thank you, though.’

she does find a broken water pump behind another house, as well as a small garden plot with the remains of two fruit plants. when she shows sturges, he assures her he can fix it.

preston catches her still wandering the neighborhood long after the sun goes down.

‘can’t sleep?’ he asks softly.

‘just trying to pull this place back together.’

he nods. ‘i can’t either. i keep thinking more raiders will come in the middle of the night.’

‘you can’t defend the others if you’re dead on your feet, you know.’

a chuckle. ‘i could say the same to you.’

‘that’s - okay. that’s fair.’

the smile he gives her is genuine, understanding. ‘look, i know i kind of forced you to help us - ’ she gestures in the negative, but he continues. ‘ - but i didn’t really expect you to stay and help us... rebuild. so, thank you. again.’

it’s her turn to shrug. ‘i wanted to help.’

‘that’s the thing. we’re not - i’m not used to that. not anymore.’ he sits on the curb of the worn down road. she sits cross legged next to him. ‘at the museum, i mentioned the quincy massacre.’ he takes a steadying breath. ‘we were betrayed. first, a minuteman, clint, joined the gunners. they attacked quincy, and would have taken over that night if not for colonel hollis. we fortified the town, held our own for the days that the gunners attacked, but clint returned. he wanted us to surrender.

‘colonel hollis called for reinforcements, but no one came. too many politics over the line of succession after the former general died, i guess. we didn’t last another night. twenty of us made it out of quincy. thirteen of us made it to concord. now it’s just us.’

‘and you’re the last minuteman,’ she concludes.

‘but it doesn’t have to be that way!’ his change in tone startles her. ‘the commonwealth - i think it still needs the minutemen. we can do better. defend the people we actually swore to protect. but i - i don’t know if i can - ’ his previous enthusiasm dies just as quickly as it came.

claire mulls it over, tapping her chin. ‘you’d have to rebuild that trust as well. i can’t imagine quincy endeared the minutemen to anyone.’

his shoulders sag.

‘so, preston.’ she stands, grinning. ‘where do we start?’

‘wait, really?’ he jumps to his feet. ‘you’re going to do this?’

‘i haven’t been here long, but i can see having more people like you in the commonwealth can’t hurt,’ she reasons.

‘haven’t been here... where did you come from, anyway?’ he looks to the pip-boy on her wrist. ‘a vault?’

she blanks. no one would really believe she’s two hundred years old, right? she wouldn’t believe it if anyone tried to tell her that. so she lies. ‘oh, no. i’m from out west. i’m looking for someone.’

‘mama murphy mentioned that. and you think they came to the commonwealth?’

claire kicks a rock on the road. ‘it’s the only lead i’ve got, so far.’

preston hums, thinking. ‘well, i can’t help but be grateful for your timing.’ he looks over at the house across from hers, where she had shown him the sleeping bag. ‘i think i might actually sleep easy tonight.’ when claire doesn’t move to leave, he says, ‘if you still can’t sleep, there’s a settlement over the hill. it’s a farm, run by the abernathy family. i.. remember they requested help from the minutemen, before we fell apart. maybe you can talk to them?’

‘a farm? we could definitely use some food,’ she says, mostly to herself. ‘yeah, i think i’ll do that. thanks, preston.’

‘no problem, uh - ’

again, a name. she makes a decision, in the moment. ‘alice. just - call me alice.’

preston smiles. ‘no problem, alice. and i can’t thank you enough, honestly.’

‘thank me by getting some sleep, preston. i’ll be back soon.’

codsworth joins her on her way out of sanctuary. dogmeat, surprisingly, follows her across the bridge as well. alice scratches behind his ears as the trio stands on the edge of the bridge.

‘mum?’

‘yes, codsworth?’

‘i heard you speaking to mr. garvey. i think helping the minutemen is an honorable cause.’ she hums in agreement. ‘and i heard you say - your name is alice, mum?’

she doesn’t respond.

‘would you like me to adjust my settings?’

‘that would be best, codsworth.’

‘of course, miss alice.’

dogmeat whines. they continue toward the red rocket gas station, veering west as night settles around them.

post-war commonwealth is quieter, alice notes. no sound of cars in the distance, no sounds of the city. just the wind, the crunch of leaves under her feet, and the putter of codsworth hovering alongside her. a pair of - and she shouldn’t be surprised - giant flies attacks them as they pass by concord’s water tower, but they’re taken care of quickly. codsworth calls them bloatflies, alice calls them dead, and dogmeat calls them forward.

ahead, a wooden building appears over the hill.

‘that’ll be abernathy farm, then.’ she breaks into a jog.

dogmeat runs up to a small pen and begins sniffing around the fence. alice slows and whispers to codsworth, ‘what is that thing?’

‘that is a brahmin, mum. mutated after the war.’

brahmin. she stares at what should be a cow. or, it would be, if it only had one head.

‘you’ll step away from her, if you know what’s good for you,’ threatens a man from the porch of the towering house. he approaches slowly, a shotgun pointed at her chest.

alice takes two, slow steps away, hands up to show she means no harm. ‘i’m just here to trade for food.’

‘right,’ he draws the word out, eyeing the trio: a curious dog, a mr. handy, and a woman in bloodied leather armor. alice imagines they make quite a sight, even for the commonwealth.

‘it’s late, i know. i’m sorry.’ earlier, her pipboy read just before midnight. ‘i’m new to the commonwealth - killed a group of raiders this morning and helped a group of refugees settle in sanctuary over the hill.’

‘that was you?’ he lowers the shotgun an inch. ‘we heard the gunfire, but couldn’t get involved, not after - ’ he seems to catch himself. ‘anyway, fine. i was just wrapping up for the night. what are you looking for?’

‘any extra food would be great. some seeds would help us be more self sufficient, too.’

‘ever been a farmer?’

‘ah - no, but i’m willing to learn.’

the man, blake abernathy, he says, gives her tips on farming. she types in the notes on her pipboy. after, he disappears into the house. inside, alice can see a small light flicker on, and when he returns its with a younger woman in tow.

‘my daughter, lucy.’

‘nice to meet you!’ she holds out a hand, and alice shakes it. ‘you’re not one of the usual traders.’

‘i’m not from the area.’ she shrugs. ‘i’m actually with the minutemen. we’re trying to establish ourselves up in sanctuary.’

in the pipboy light, blake frowns. ‘you didn’t say you were with the minutemen.’

‘is that a problem?’

‘some people don’t take kindly to the minutemen. not after what happened at quincy.’

alice lets out a small, ah. ‘i’m sorry to hear that. oh,’ she takes the handful of seeds and produce from lucy and stuffs them in a pocket of her backpack, ‘what do i owe you?’

lucy must see the blank look on her face when blake tells her some amount of ‘caps.’ ‘do you not use bottle caps where you’re from?’ before alice can respond, lucy, thankfully, barrels on and helps her count out the caps from the pouch preston gave her. ‘it’s easy. just one-for-one.’

‘thank you,’ alice says, earnestly. the new currency will take some getting used to. cap-italism enters her mind, unbidden, and has to wave off blake and lucy’s confused looks when she begins to laugh. ‘just different is all. sorry.’

‘right. anyway, just watch out for raiders.’ blake’s voice shifts to a low growl. ‘they only know how to take what isn’t theirs. no matter who tries to stop them.’

‘daddy - ’

‘mind telling me what happened?’ alice ventures.

he does, pain evident in his voice. parents burying their child. he must hear some echoed understanding in her own voice when she asks what she can do to help. ‘mary had a locket, it’s been in connie’s family for generations. if you could get that back...’ a thought crosses his mind. ‘well, maybe we’ll reconsider our thoughts on the minutemen.’

alice nods. ‘it would be my pleasure.’

lucy grabs her arm when she turns to leave. ‘daddy, honestly, she looks dead on her feet. we have a spare bed upstairs. the locket can wait until the morning.’

blake seems to agree, because he doesn’t stop them when lucy hauls alice into the house.

‘i will guard the area, mum!’ codsworth calls as she crosses the doorway, and dogmeat follows in after her, tail wagging.

#oc: alice ward #having to stop myself from going 'milla jovovich voice: my name. is alice.'#siri drabbles #series: we will all go together when we go

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bing-fucker · 4 years

Note

hello yes I have returned because i adore aphrodisiac fics ~Baby Anon

Welcome back, Baby. Just for you and Hearts, I shall reveal my horrible first attempt at writing noth aphrodisiacs and Illinois and Yancy. Also, warning, I suck at Yancy's accent.

Warning: Aphrodisiacs, technically some dubiously consensual stuff (there's a brief moment where Illinois jerks off with Yancy in his lap without knowing), rough sex, overstimulation, improper use of caves. As always, ask me to add as necessary!

In his time as an adventurer, Illinois had encountered many things. He'd been to loads of animal heavens, encountered countless tribes of people the world didn't even know about (and, usually, Illinois kept it that way. These people didn't need to be exposed to the horrors of modern society), and, yes, had been hit with aphrodisiacs before. Usually it was rather easy to handle them- a night on the town with a few beautiful people, or a couple hours alone, imagining a hot mouth or hole around his cock.

But this time was different, because he was a few days away from civilization. And, sure, usually he could've just resorted to his right hand and imagination, but he wasn't alone- and that was the biggest problem. He didn't know what compelled him to drag his boyfriend out on this adventure, especially since Yancy tended to get overwhelmed when he was outside for too long. But he seemed to be doing good- and he looked amazing while doing it. Dressed in a tight pair of black pants they'd gotten in town and his usual short, white tee-shirt, Yancy looked like a dream. More specifically, Illinois' wet dream.

Luckily, however, Yancy had been saved from whatever trap Illinois had triggered to get covered in the aphrodisiac. In fact, he didn't even notice it had happened, far too distracted by a cave painting he'd found to see. Illinois didn't mind. In fact, he was glad Yancy had escaped the blast. He may love his boyfriend, but he never wanted Yancy to know the pain of being so desperate to get off that you were practically humping the air. Like Illinois had to currently stop himself from doing.

"Hey, youse okay?" Yancy asked, looking concerned as he placed a hand on Illinois' shoulder.

Illinois barely held back a moan as he replied, "Yeah, I'm fine, Yance, don't worry."

"Youse's sure? Maybe we should stop for the night…"

"There's a cavern we can stop in for the night an hour up river," Illinois assured, patting the small boat other explorers had left behind. "This'll get us there."

"It's a bit… small, don't youse think?"

"What, you don't want to sit on my lap?" Illinois teased, desperately hoping Yancy's flexibility would come in handy and he would avoid having to hold Yancy. Not that he didn't adore having his boyfriend in his lap, but at the moment he wasn't sure if he could keep himself from brutally fucking Yancy if the former prisoner sat in his lap.

But with how much room was left when Illinois climbed in, that was exactly what had to happen. Illinois shifted slightly so at least Yancy wasn't settled completely on his crotch- not that that helped much, given the fact that Illinois' cock twitched desperately at the smallest movement. He groaned softly, resting his head on Yancy's shoulder.

"Illi? Youse sure youse's okay? Youse's been groanin' a lot, and lookin' mighty flushed."

"I'm okay," Illinois assured, the pain in his groin growing the longer Yancy spent in his lap. He panted slightly, his hips unwillingly bucking up against Yancy's ass as they hit a bit of rocky water. Yancy didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he was gracious enough not to tease Illinois about how hard he was. Illinois shifted and shoved his hand between Yancy's ass and the considerable tent in his pants, biting his lip to keep quiet as he palmed himself. Yancy shifted down so he was sitting on Illinois' shins as opposed to his thighs. Illinois quickly took the opportunity to quietly pull his cock out of his pants, jerking it quickly.

It was… unreasonably hot. To be getting off so blatantly while Yancy seemed to remain completely ignorant, his eyes wide as he looked around and talked about all the cool things he'd seen on their adventure. Illinois grunted vague responses, glad he'd chosen to wear black pants as he finally came onto them. He bit his lip and quickly cleaned himself up as much as he could, hoping that Yancy would mistake the small string of cum on his thigh for splashing water. He panted, looking at Yancy's face and silently whimpering as he was still hard.

"We're, uh. Almost there," he said, glad the shadows of the cave hid his hard on from Yancy.

Yancy nodded excitedly and turned to Illinois, kissing him deeply for a few seconds. "Thank youse for takin' me along," he said softly.

Illinois groaned and pulled Yancy back into the kiss, forcing his hands to settle on Yancy's hips, as opposed to his ass, which Illinois would probably have given his left leg to sink into right now. Yancy laughed and pulled away as their boat hit land, climbing off of Illinois and onto land.

Illinois laughed as well and climbed out, a bit uncomfortable in his cum-filled pants. "You get a fire going while I set up the tent," he said, clearing his throat so he sounded at least some semblance of normal.

Setting up camp was, luckily, quick and easy. Tent was up, food was out for the night, and Yancy had a really good fire going. The fire plus the electric lights Illinois set up were, unfortunately, making Illinois' bulge rather obvious. For once, Illinois was rather glad that his boyfriend could be a bit oblivious, because it kept Yancy from discovering his not-so-little problem. If Illinois was honest, he didn't know why he was hiding it from Yancy, but he was. And he'd been doing so for so long that it would be awkward if he mentioned it now.

Yancy frowned and walked around to Illinois' side of the fire, making the adventurer tense up for a second before he realized Yancy was just messing with something to do with the fire. Yancy stood when he was done and stepped back.

Illinois wasn't quite sure what Yancy slipped on, but he certainly slipped on something because he was suddenly falling, his ass landing heavily against Illinois' cock, and Illinois was embarrassed to find he quickly came just from that alone. His hands flew to Yancy's hips, gripping them tightly as he ground upwards, gritting his teeth slightly at the feeling of his cum-soaked pants against his cock.

"I-Illi!" Yancy exclaimed, blushing brightly and his accent dropping in his shock. "A-are you…?"

"What? Hard? Turned on? Absolutely ready to fuck your brains out?" Illinois replied, a slight growl to his words as he flipped them and pressed Yancy to the ground, continuing to grind against his ass. "Yes. Beyond all that."

"For how long!? A-and why didn't you tell me?"

"Got hit with an aphrodisiac a few hours ago. Didn't wanna worry you," Illinois replied absently, licking and sucking at Yancy's neck. "Fuck, you're wearing too many clothes. Can I take them off? Please, Yance, I need you so bad~"

Yancy groaned quietly and nodded. Illinois grinned and flipped Yancy onto his back, roughly stripping the former prisoner. Yancy blushed and reached up, trying to take off Illinois' shirt. Illinois grinned and stripped before pinning Yancy's hands above his head, taking both his and Yancy's cocks in hand and starting to pump, gentle so Yancy didn't get irritated from the friction.

"F-fuck, Illi!" Yancy exclaimed, bucking into Illinois' hand.

"That's the plan," Illinois panted, scrambling away from Yancy and grabbing the bottle of lube he'd brought from the tent. "Roll over."

Yancy rolled over obediently, pressing his chest to the ground and his ass into the air, effectively presenting himself to Illinois. Illinois groaned heavily and poured lube onto his fingers, taking barely five minutes to prepare Yancy - although the sight of Yancy writhing on his fingers was enough for Illinois to spill his seed across the former prisoner's thighs, and that was definitely an image Illinois was going to return to - before pouring lube on his aching cock and pushing in.

"Ah, Illi~ Please~" Yancy moaned, arching his back.

"Look at you," Illinois groaned, slapping the right cheek of Yancy's ass as he set a punishing pace. "So worked up just from me grinding against you- one would think you're the one hopped up on an aphrodisiac."

Yancy moaned in response and Illinois bent over his back, biting and sucking dark marks into his shoulders. He groaned at the feeling of Yancy clenching and unclenching around him. He carefully angled his hips so that, with every brutal thrust, he hit Yancy's prostate. Illinois grinned to himself, stilling briefly as he came.

"God, you feel so good, baby," Illinois growled, pulling out and flipping Yancy onto his back. Yancy quickly got the message and spread and lifted his legs, letting Illinois push back into him. Illinois grinned and held Yancy's legs, leaning down to kiss the man. Yancy whined and thrusted down against Illinois, his dick bouncing on his stomach as Illinois fucked him.

By the time the aphrodisiac wore off, it had been several hours and Illinois had cum a dozen times, and Yancy probably double that with how sensitive he was. Illinois grinned and pulled out, his cock finally softening as he lay next to Yancy.

"Youse got dirt all over youse's self. And me," Yancy commented, his voice rough probably from a combination of Illinois fucking his face and the amount of screaming in pleasure he did.

"Good thing there's a river, then," Illinois replied, content to lay by the dying fire and cuddle his boyfriend.

"Yeah, suppose so," Yancy replied, yawning.

Illinois grinned and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep, love."

Yancy nodded, then hummed lightly and looked at Illinois. "Illi?"

"Hm?"

"If you ever get hit by another aphrodisiac, just tell me."

"Will do, baby."

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reddeadinmybed · 5 years

Text

Together (M)

It has been what felt like years since I was forced to separate from the gang. Whilst everyone had managed to stay together, I was left behind. It wasn’t because the Pinkerton’s had managed to capture me after the mess at Blackwater, it was that I was told by Dutch to lay low for a week or so and to secretly watch every move at Blackwater. Unfortunately, that meant leaving Arthur behind.

Arthur was the only thing I had in my life, apart from the gang. He was the only thing I needed and that’s the way it will always be. Arthur’s the one I want to grow old with and the one I want to die with. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

It was now almost two weeks since I was separated from the gang. Now, finally, after years of waiting, I was finally allowed to come back to the gang. I had met with Trelawney a few days ago and he told me that Sean had been captured, he then told me that Dutch has allowed me to come back. After telling me this, he had disappeared. It was not uncommon of Trelawney. He would always disappear and then come back, usually bearing good and bad news. It was never together though.

Trelawney had specifically mentioned that they are held up in a town called Valentine. I had never heard of it before, it was new territory to me. If Arthur was there, however, I didn’t give a damn where I was. I guess that was love, love makes you do silly things. Even forgetting where you are.

The sign welcoming me into Valentine filled my body with adrenaline. Arthur was nearby and I couldn’t wait to see him. My heart was beating like crazy and I was so excited, I could feel my body shaking.

Yelling could be heard from the centre of the town, notifying me that there was something happening. I rode my horse to where the commotion lies and that was when I saw him. The only man I would ever love with all of my heart. He was right in front of me, and some guy was trying to beat him up.

I sat there watching in silence, the two men fighting their way. One moment Arthur was taking the lead and then the next the brute was winning. It was annoying me, I finally see Arthur and he was preoccupied with a jackass.

Sick and tired of all the waiting, I got off my horse and pulled my pistol out. I cocked the safety of the gun and pointed it at the brute’s head. He stiffened and slowly got off of Arthur and placed his two hands in the air.

“Back the fuck up from him right now,” I said in the most menacing voice I could manage. The man took a couple of steps back whilst glaring at me. I kept the gun pointed at him, not wanting to show the signs of weakness. I started something, I got to keep it going.

“Now fuck off before I blast your face into millions of pieces.” Arthur was looking at me with shock but I didn’t glance at him. One glance at him and I would be done for, I would melt and completely forget about the brute that I have pointed my gun at.

The brute growled and turned away, walking off. The people surrounding me walked off a minute later, grumbling about ‘how I ruined the fun.’ Like I give a fuck. After everyone was finished leaving, I finally turned to the love of my life.

Arthur stood there, mud all over him, staring at me, eyes wide. It had been a while, he probably presumed me dead. But here I was, standing in front of him, in the flesh and desperately wanting to kiss him on the lips. Covered in mud he still looked dangerously good looking and I wish instead of him standing there, he’d do something. Anything.

“Y-Y/N? I can’t believe it’s really you. I-I thought you were d-”

“Dead?” I cut him off, with a small smile on my face. Arthur nodded, too surprised to say anything else.

“I was forced to stay behind, but I’m here now and you’re filthy. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I held my hand out, desperately wanting him to grab it.

I thought that if I showed up to him, he’d grab me ferociously and drag me somewhere and make savage love to me. I wasn’t getting the feeling that my fantasy was going to happen, I feel like he was just going to hold me and say how much he missed me.

Don’t get me wrong, that sounds wonderful but I want something more. I want to make love to him. I want to appreciate the body that was so graciously given to him. The muscles that rippled under each slight movement. The feeling of his tense back relaxing as he thrusts into me, surging pleasure throughout my body. I want him bad, no, I need him bad. He was the reason I breathe and he was the reason that I do anything in life.

He grabbed my hand and I guided him towards the hotel. If we were going to do anything, I wanted to not have him covered in mud. The last thing I needed was...never mind. Somethings are just better left unthought.

Water splashed as I pressed myself against Arthur, deepening the kiss. My hands clutched his hands, bringing them to my breasts as my tongue struggled for dominance against his. Arthur’s hands squeezed my breasts, a gasp surging through my lips. This gave him the advantage, his teeth biting my lips.

He pulled away from my lips, aiming for my neck. He nibbled and pressed light kisses on my neck. His hands travelled down to my hips where he gripped them, grinding me against his hard cock. Pleasure sparked through me as my clit rubbed against his cock.

“You like that?” He questioned, repeating the action once again. I moaned, curling my nails onto his chest. I needed more stimulation, when will he stop being a fucking tease and do something?

He gripped my hips and pressed me down onto his crotch.

“I said do you fucking like that?” He growled into my ear, I let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“Use your words darlin’“ His husky voice sent shivers down my spine. It was rough and his voice screamed dominance. Any chance I had of controlling him leaves when he speaks to me like that. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Y-yes, Arthur. I like it so much. Please give me more,” I begged, not even caring how desperate I sounded.

Arthur hummed, seeming to enjoy my begging. He bit my earlobe and tugged, causing me to fall onto his chest. I gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into them. He hasn’t even done anything to me and I’m already shaking.

“Good girl, now I want you to ride my cock. Do you understand?” He whispered in my ear, dragging out his words. I nodded once again. Arthur didn’t like that, however, because he slapped my ass and gripped it hard.

“I said use your words, did you not hear me?” His husky voice grew deeper, showing his impatience with me.

“Y-Yes, I heard you.” I whimpered out. The stinging sensation on my ass was still rippling through my body, reminding me of how dominant Arthur was in bed, or should I say in the bath. The water was splashing around us even with the smallest of movement.

Arthur hummed once again. “Now ride me.”

I lifted myself up, not hesitating to place myself on top of his dick. As I slid down his length, I felt myself stretch to fit him in perfectly. It was the perfect stretch. It had a slight pain to it but it was mostly filled with pleasure.

I leant forward and attached our lips together. This caused friction between Arthur and me, a little whine leaving my lips during our kiss. Arthur’s hands, still gripping my ass, lifted me up before slamming me back down on his length.

I moaned, breaking away from the kiss. I closed my eyes on the sudden impact. Placing my hands back on his chest, I looked down at him, lifting myself back up of him. The friction of his length moving from my walls had me shaking as I slammed back down once again.

Pleasure rippled through me as I continued to bounce on top of him. Feral noises were leaving me, wanting everyone to know just who was making me feel this good.

“Fuck Arthur, you feel so good. Oh fuck,” I moaned out, not caring how loud I was being.

The water around us splashed, overflowing the tub but I didn’t care. I was experiencing too much pleasure to care. Arthur thrusted up into me, meeting my bounces, allowing for him to hit into me deeper. A high pitched moan left my mouth at the new sensation.

“You like riding my dick, huh, Y/N?” He panted out as his hands gripped my hips, slamming me down onto his dick. I screamed out in pleasure, my clit coming into contact with his pubic bone, allowing for stimulation.

“Yes, Yes! I love riding your dick! Arthur, yes!” It almost sounded to erotic but the pleasure just increased, the knot in my stomach forming from the amount of pleasure I was receiving.

My release was coming, and it was coming hard. I was becoming tired so I couldn’t meet up with Arthur’s thrusts, Arthur noticed this and he threw me on top of his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist, hands gripping my ass. He thrusted up into me as I laid on his chest. With every lift of his hips, pleasure would sear through me, causing me to moan in pleasure. The new angle stretched me out wider, my release almost seconds away from coming.

“Are you about to come darlin’?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, Arthur - Oh, yes..” My voice trailed off as I muffled my moans into his neck. I sucked on his skin, a moan resonating on his throat with every thrust into me.

The knot snapped causing a vast amount of pleasure to fill me, causing my head to be thrown back and a scream of pleasure to burst through me, no doubt notifying the whole of Valentine what dirty acts Arthur and I were doing.

Arthur rode me through my release, him still bouncing me onto his dick. I collapsed onto his chest, letting him continue to thrust up into me to get his release. With a deep grunt, Arthur filled me with his seed, the warmth spreading into me. I moaned at the warmth.

We stayed still for what seemed like ages, silence filling the air and the both of us getting down from our highs. Panting was all that could be heard and the sound of the water splashing.

There were no words needed to be said, we knew exactly what each other was thinking. How I’ve missed him. I pulled back to see his beautiful face.

He was looking back at me and I knew my face mirrored how he was looking at me; with adoration.

Thanks for the reads.

- REDDEADINMYBED

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan #red dead redemption imagines #red dead redemption smut #red dead redemption x reader #John Marston #john marston x reader #Dutch Van Der Linde

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angel-emmerson · 4 years

Text

Blue World | Part 1

violence tw, arrest tw, abuse mention tw

As Angel eased onto the highway it occurred to him that he probably should have asked someone to come with him. At least someone who could keep him calm and distracted but he hadn’t wanted to drag anyone else into this mess. At least he had talked about it to a few people, it wasn’t as if it was a total secret but he hadn’t wanted to make it a bigger deal than it was. He still wasn’t certain that this woman was who she said she was. For all he knew this could have been a big hoax and he honestly wasn’t sure which one was worse. After the night at Leslie’s, he knew he had to do something to squash it though he knew part of him should ignore it, he had too many questions to do that. So with Alvaro’s help he had gotten an address and after a restless night he made his way to Portland, blasting the stereo along the way in order to ease his nerves. He sang along with every song, feeling like the lyrics were getting at all of the parts of himself that had been unearthed as a result of the letters. His fear had been uncovered, his abandonment, his tendency to feel worthless as he had in those early years. Of course he was at a different place now, it was easier to talk himself down but it didn’t quiet his mind, didn’t help him find the peace he had kept for so long. He felt like he was failing himself, like every breathing technique, every yoga session, every moment he spent putting in the work felt like it was being undone with the opening of a piece of paper. But he had learned a long time ago that life would just never be the way he assumed it to be. Every damn day was a surprise and this was no different. So he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, getting lost in the music as the wind whipped through the windows of his truck.

He arrived a little after noon, easing onto the block as his nerves started to rise again. For a moment he thought about calling his moms, spilling his guts, asking them for guidance. He had always trusted their opinion over anyone else’s but this time he was more worried about them than he was himself. His mother’s had always been confident in who they were as his parents but he also watched as they worried over his younger siblings, questioning themselves in secret. He had been there to reassure them and help them, make sure they knew that they were doing an amazing job. That eventually they’d turn out feeling better adjusted like he did. And he didn’t want that seed of doubt to come back to life in them. He knew they would be angry, but he also knew they would support him if he wanted some kind of relationship and he couldn’t bare seeing them trying to mediate when all they wanted to do was lose their minds. Maybe it was the night with Leslie or the look of anger on Brady’s face but he knew he couldn’t let this go on longer than it needed to and he felt like there was only way for him to know peace.

Angel swallowed thickly as he parked the car one house down from the actual address, taking deep breaths as he turned it off. All of the things that had gone through his head and he still hadn’t settled on what he’d say when he finally saw them, when he looked them in the eyes and saw someone who looked similar to him staring back. “You got this, Emmerson.” He took one more deep breath and got out of the car, making sure to lock it as he made careful steps towards the house. He felt the urge to turn around but kept moving. But before he could get up the front step, the door opened and out walked two women with a stroller, chatting away with each other until they saw Angel standing there. It only took him a second to look at them to realize they were his biological mother and sister, that the baby in that stroller was likely his biological niece.

Before he could find his words, the older woman said his name, her expression almost as if she had seen a ghost, almost as if she hadn’t sent that letter herself. He stayed where he was as he looked at them, not sure he knew what he could say to them. But finally he stood taller and spoke, taking a few steps closer. “Why could you just leave me alone, huh? You gave me up so why now? Why now?”

Marissa stepped forward, looking more annoyed than endeared even though her mother was still stunned. “Look we don’t want any trouble okay. We sent the letters cause we need help if you dont’ want to help your parents thats on you. You didn’t have to come here to say no.”

“My parents?” Angel let out a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Nah listen you were way out of line sending that shit, alright? You dont’ know me and you had not right to fucking bother me with that shit. How can you stand there and act all high and mighty? They didn’t give you up so what the fuck do you care?”

Before Marissa could respond, her mother stepped in and stepped forward, her expression softened as she moved towards Angel. “Mijo, you have no idea, no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you.” She reached up to touch his face and Angel instantly jumped back like he had been burned. “Are you kidding me? You’ve had 32 years to see me and you pick now of all times? I don’t know know what kind of con you’re playing lady but I’m not you hijo, alright?” The raising of his voice and the way he pushed away from her caused Marissa to come forward, already scolding him as if he were in the wrong.

But before he could open his mouth this time, the door opened up once again and out walked a man who he could only presume was his father, leaning heavily on a cane as he made his way out. The moment their eyes met Angel knew that he knew and he hated that despite never meeting that there was still some kind of recognition. But he knew that what they recognized in him was a mistake, a moment of the past they probably beat themselves up over but never did anything about. “You all had no right to bother me and write me, alright? You got problems, they’re not mine. You forgot about me or did you erase that from your memory? Who’s idea was it anyway, huh? Yours? Or was it yours?” He pointed at Marissa first before pointing back at his father, moving around the women to walk towards him. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? I don’t even know who the fuck you are!”

Angel could feel himself losing his cool, that long rested rage surging underneath him and he had to clench his fist to steady himself. His father was quiet as he looked at him and glanced back at Marissa and his wife. “I had no idea they would get in contact with you. I had no idea. But you’re here now, Angelito. You’re here now and that’s what matters. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d ever live to see you again. Please, come in, please. Is it not obvious? God sent you back to us.”

Angel’s eyes widened, his rage only subsiding for a second, feeling like this was some kind of trap. “God didn’t do shit but put me where I belong. You think God is sending me to offer you forgiveness? Just because you left me on the steps of a church?! You’re out of your damn mind, old man!” Just as he was starting to yell again, one more person came out of the house and the sight of him made Angel stumbled back. He wasn’t a long lost twin but he was definitely his brother and the longer he looked at him, Angel could estimate that he couldn’t have been more than a year or two younger than him.

“Pop, what’s going on? Who the fuck is this?”

“Adolfo, this is Angel, your brother.”

Angel held up his hands and started to back away. “Oh hell nah, nah nah I’m not your fucking brother. What kind of Telemundo shit is this? You had a whole ass family and kicked me to the curb? You never came to look for me? You just fucking gave up! What did I do, huh? D-did I cry too much? Was I a fucking terrible baby? How could you do that? How could you? You’re..fucking monsters!” He was sure his face was red and he could feel every bone in his body tensing as Adolfo came towards him telling him to calm down. “Calm down? How old are you motherfucker, tell me! How old are you?”

The minute Adolfo uttered the number 30 Angel saw red and he lunged towards his biological brother, his own fists coming up as his biological brother managed to land a punch on his eye. Still, Angel got his bearings and started swinging, ignoring the sound of Marissa screaming or the baby crying, he swung his elbow back when his father tried to stop him, his eye already bleeding as he fought with all the rage he could find in him. He felt like his heart was being torn apart as he processed all of this information in such a short amount of time. But the sight of Adolfo had set him off and the anger that had built up from the moment he knew enough to be angry was pouring out of him. “You have no idea what they did to me! You have no idea what you did to me! You put me in that hell hole. You put me there and you left me for dead!” His heart was racing as he recalled those years in foster care, the ways he had learned the hard way that people with power would abuse it. He still had scars on his body to prove it, still had years of feeling shitty about his body and his sexuality, years of working through all the shit in his mind that built up because of their poor and careless decisions.

He didn’t stop when he heard the sirens, didn’t stop when he heard them telling him to back off. He only stopped when he finally felt their arms around him and he stopped fighting. It wasn’t until they pulled his arms behind his back to cuff him and pressed his face against the hood of the car that he really assessed the damage in front of him. Adolfo cradling his face and groaning, his father struggling to grab his cane, Marissa and her mother crying. It should have made him feel ashamed, should have made him feel sad but it only made him feel dignified, like he had finally caused them just a sliver of the pain they had caused him. He could feel his eye swelling and his lip bleeding but for the first time in a long time he felt free. Truly free. From the burden, from the questions, from the pain. Because he knew now, that he had never meant anything and now he could let it go. Now they could mean nothing too.

“I have a family,” he yelled out as they pulled him up and he spit blood out of his mouth. “I have a family and you can’t hold a fucking candle to them! Fuck you!” It was the last thing he said before they pushed him into the back of cruiser, his heart rate finally settling as the car took off. He gave them a glance out the window, closing his eyes as they finally turned down the street.

As the car took off towards the jail, the was only one thing really on his mind: Fuck, now I have to tell my moms.

#sp #self para #blue world #blue world: part 1 #violence tw #arrest tw #?#abuse mention tw

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