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shadowsshowdown · 1 year

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Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 33

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The Avalanche.

Detroit.

It had been almost a week since Laura's return, spent on sitting in an empty dark apartment with her cat, which even when its owner was in a deep depression was only interested in eating and checking if anything in the house was bouncing. The woman couldn't count how many messages from Faridah and Connor she got and how many times Frank called her. She turned off the phone and put it in a drawer. Laura was leaving the company anyway, so it didn't matter to her how much she was behind in her work. She silently waited for the moment when Adam will knock on her door, but he didn't come, which made her feel even worse. Moreover, memories of her time with Kratos began to come back. She could hear his screams in her head, feel the cool metal barrel of the gun against her temple. He had said then he was going to kill her and squeezed the trigger laughing at her terror. In thoughts, Laura promised herself that someday this fucker would pay for everything, but she was too weak to carry out her threats. She also remembered how he forced her to play Russian roulette. She remembered the characteristic click emitted by the gun’s cylinder. She remembered the stench of drugs, alcohol, and vomit. She remembered the loneliness and the narrow streams of pale light breaking through the gaps in the curtains when she wasn't sitting in the basement. Damien wouldn't let them open, so she rarely saw the sun. On weekends they went to Lemon-Lime, and she always said with a smile that she was the luckiest woman on earth.

Soon Joe discovered the truth, though it cost him a lot of time and effort. Thanks to the patient pretending Navras bought Damien’s trust and was allowed to enter his nest. At least that was what Joe was thinking. Kratos knew perfectly well what was going on and decided to act accordingly. He forced Joe to see Laura in the most intimate and humiliating moments. Damien forced him to even help in his violent plans. Navras promised to find a way to get her out of there. He was willing to pay for it with his life. For Laura, the price was too high anyway.

The woman lay back on the carpet. It was a wonderful feeling not knowing what day, season, or time it was today.

Sarif Industries.

Adam constantly and furiously walked around his office. Fortunately, everything had gone great in Washington. Laura had done a professional job, and Connor basically didn't have to fix anything. He found out that no one had seen Laura at the company for almost a week. The one when Francis barged into his office slamming the door in the process. That was just the beginning of the avalanche. For over an hour he yelled almost non-stop about how Adam should stay out of his business and leave his employees and their decisions alone. He yelled about a stick in his ass, about how the ex-SWAT didn't know shit about computers and that Megan was the only reason he could work here.

It was far too much. Even Faridah became distant like the Andromeda galaxy. They rarely talked, and if they did it was more about company matters. By the time he went to lunch, she'd already returned so they kept passing each other. In fact, no one, not even Connor, knew what was going on with Laura. Jensen was haunted by his darkest thoughts especially after she had tried to take her own life. Instead of going to her or at least calling he preferred to disappear from Laura’s life. He could feel that anxiety hanging in the air with a cloud of thick smoke. Everyone decided to retreat fearing they might see the worst. It was cruel, inhumane, and reprehensible, but understandable. He had seen a lot himself, but the second sight of Laura lying in a pool of blood would not stand. Immediately after work, he went to the store to replenish the supplies. The saleswoman already knew him well, and he always felt in her behavior the excitement of his presence, as if he were some famous person. He managed to get used to the fact that he could appeal to women, although he considered himself a man of average look. He was just leaving the alley, pushing a cart, which already contained a carton of Golden Icarus cigarettes and another with bottles of whisky, when he noticed a woman resembling Laura. He wanted to go over and say hello, but he wasn't sure if it was her. She disappeared too quickly among the shelves of cereal. He could have gone to see if he was right, but he felt the fear of this encounter so he turned toward the dairy section looking for milk.

Laura felt her heart quicken its rhythm and her breathing became uneven and shallow. It was Adam. It was definitely him. Damn it, why here and now? She hastily put several cartons of Crunchy Pirates into the cart and took a circuitous route toward the dairy section, vigilantly glancing to see if Jensen was around. Fortunately, the road was clear.

When the ex-SWAT saw that the woman had left the cereal section, he hurried over there. He noticed that several boxes of his favorite Crunchy Pirates were missing and rarely did anyone buy them so suspicion fell on Laura. All the more reason for him to hurry. Taking each step carefully, he scanned the area with his vigilant gaze to see if there was any danger around the corner. He moved straight to the cashier feeling the time pressing him. The cashier again pretended to have a problem because the reader would not accept the barcode. He could not urge her, unfortunately.

“Do you have our loyalty card?” the woman asked. “No, I don’t,” Adam replied shortly. “Maybe you want to have one? We offer you various discounts and…” “Sorry, not today. I’m in a hurry,” he tried to excuse himself as politely as he could. “I see. Cash, phone, or debit card?” she asked. “Card,” Jensen gave her a short answer. “We’ve got the strawberry flavored condoms on sale today,” the woman announced. “Thank you, I’ve got plenty of them already,” he muttered with displeasing.

After the allowing nod of her head, he placed a debit card close to the reader, and after hearing a long beep sound he put it back in his wallet. When the payment was accepted, Adam took the groceries and left as quickly as he could, which was not easy with so many things.

Laura, making sure Adam wasn't around, slowly walked through the candy section, picked up some more cat food on the way, and went straight to the cash register. The saleswoman smiled to herself seeing that they had chosen the same cereal. The hacker paid with her phone, which she turned on specifically for this purpose, and hurriedly left the store. She hoped to catch up with the man and recognize him from afar to finally dispel her doubts. Laura saw him stop in front of the Chiron building taking out his phone from his pocket. She felt hope mixed with excitement squeeze her throat. Maybe he was calling or texting her? The woman waited to hear that lovely buzz from her phone and see the new message on the screen saying that Jensen had missed her. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort happened. There was no euphoria bursting out of her, no smiles or tears of joy. There was only a cold wind blowing on the street, a cloudy, dreary day in Detroit, a painful reality and loneliness.

"What did I expect?" she thought as she held the keys in her teeth and pushed open the apartment door. Stalker came tangling under her feet making it difficult for her to walk to the kitchen. As she arranged the groceries where they belonged, she reached for her phone with great reluctance. She noticed over a hundred missed calls, all of which were from Pritchard. Also, twenty messages, half from Malik and the other from Connor. Adam had remained silent. Besides, she had made it clear to him that they had nothing to talk about. He's not the kind of man who will fight for a woman after all. Connor would make an effort, but Jensen always ran away.

The woman turned off the phone left it on the living room table, and went back to admiring the ceiling while lying on the carpet.

A week later. Laura's apartment.

Laura was still cut off from the world, but at least Faridah and Connor had gotten tired of constantly texting and calling her. Pritchard, on the other hand, had broken the latest record. This time he called her two hundred times. The woman had even given up watching TV or browsing the internet excessively. They kept reminding her there that tomorrow will be already Christmas, which she would spend alone. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a small square box wrapped in blue paper and tied with a red ribbon. She had dreamed of handing it to Adam, of pleasing him and being with him, but happiness was not in store for her. She reached for Rupert's business card lying on the tabletop, and for a moment she wanted to call him, but she gave up. Laura thought she would do the shopping anyway because maybe something unexpected would happen, maybe Jensen would visit her finally. After all, he never said the invitation was no longer current.

After coming back from the store and standing in the checkout line, she was so tired that she slept the rest of the day and read a book at night. It was then she decided that she would bake the kanelbulle in the morning, and in the afternoon she would take the gift and go to Adam's. After all, it was forgiveness time. If he would not take the first step, she will. The excitement was growing in her every minute. Laura imagined that in a moment everything would be like before. It gave her energy and the will to act. It wasn't even seven in the morning when she finished baking sweets. Even Stalker was still asleep though he always demanded food at this hour walking back and forth on her while she was still asleep.

Between nine and ten she sat staring at the bowl of cereal. She couldn't swallow anything because nervousness tightened her throat. Around three in the afternoon, she took a very long shower, not ruling out the possibility that they would end up in bed between one sex and the next. She also took that into account in her choice of lingerie. The hacker decided she would remind him of the dance in Washington and put on the same hummingbird dress and ballerinas. She tied her hair up neatly in a low chignon, painted her lips with pale pink lipstick, lightly sprinkled her neck with perfume. Finally packed the kanelbulle and the gift in an elegant paper bag and left the house around five in the afternoon.

Chiron Building.

The elevator was going way too slow as if someone had deliberately done something to it. She felt her heart quicken its rhythm as she approached Adam's apartment door. With great hesitation, she pressed the bell, trying to bring the warmest smile she could muster to her face. Jensen looked confused at her visit, which didn't surprise her at all. He wanted to invite her inside, she saw him about to do so with a hand gesture, but then she heard a voice.

"Adam, you have a visitor? Or maybe it’s that employee bothering you again?" It was undoubtedly Megan Reed.

Jensen saw Laura's face crack completely as if it was made of clay. Her green eyes had already begun glistening from tears, and her lips twitched as she tried at all costs to show him nothing was wrong. Before he had time to react the woman fled leaving behind the scent of magnolia and vanilla.

"It's just someone from the staff mistaken the apartments," he lied, horrified at how smoothly it went down his throat. "Come on, we need to go over a few more things regarding Washington," she insisted. "You know, Laura did a great job, and with you, by my side, I'm sure nothing bad will happen," she admitted with sincere appreciation.

Adam regretted the hacker couldn't hear it. Maybe she could even like Megan if she knew she wasn't a threat to her.

Location - Unknown.

The man carefully lifted the cognac glass to his lips. His hand trembled so badly that he was unable to hold it. A string of the most elaborate French curses escaped his lips before the glass impetuously hit something hard. Judging by the sound, it could have been one of the cupboards or that beautiful oak closet he bought at auction for quite a sum.

Listening and touching, this was the only thing left to him. Because he was blind as a mole and so could not distinguish between day and night, he sat in the dark room not letting the curtains open. Counting the strikes of the clock at a full hour gave him a vague sense of time. For that, he had enough of it to be able to recall the scars on the silky skin of the woman he could not forget. Each one had been perfectly thought out, each whip stroke and knife cut like a brush stroke across a canvas. Then the wonderful taste of her blood coating his palate and lips. The screams that like music gave him inspiration and the salty tears that made no impression on him. They took her from him, kidnapped her in an insolent manner. They came when he was weak. But he felt the time was coming that would change everything, and Evie would grace his living room again. This time he would share her with no one.

The first thing he heard was the soft creak of the wooden door. Later, a familiar voice spoke up.

"Sir, it is time for examination," the butler announced in his usual emotionless tone.

Damien forbade him to express emotion, especially now that he was crippled. The staff throughout the mansion as if by some evil charm turned into a dollhouse. Anyone who smiled even the slightest bit or expressed a shadow of any other emotion was beaten into unconsciousness.

Kratos already knew every step of his way to the medical wing. First, the butler helped him get up from the cherry-colored leather armchair and transfer to a wheelchair. He didn't know why he always had to go there accompanied. After all, the wheelchair was equipped with distance sensors, a map of the mansion, could control the elevator, adjust the speed, and yet the butler always pushed him. He even tried threats, but the man invariably replied that he had received such orders from above and no shouting from his master would change anything.

The silence was broken by a subtle squawking, so he was already off the carpet, in a moment the door opened and they found themselves in the hallway. The dresser on the left, Evie's bedroom door on the right. On both walls, portraits of ancestors. They paused, about to get into the elevator and descend to the underground. Twenty seconds later they stop at level -1. How boring. The sound changed to a clatter echoing through the empty, sterile walls. It stank of drugs and alcohol, everything characteristic of a hospital. Turning left, they passed through a swinging door stopping for another dozen seconds in the decontamination area. Behind the next door was the treatment room where Dr. Amanda Moore was already waiting for him. Her scent was quite pleasant, sweet, and spicy, but no match for Evie’s. She had a nice voice, sometimes all too nice, and that was basically all he could say. He wanted to know her by touch at some point, but she firmly refused, excusing herself with the rules. He felt himself flying, hovering above the ground to land on a treatment table covered with a rather hard sponge covered with leather. He thought he saw light coming from a lamp that illuminated him from above. He felt horribly naked, exposed like an animal in a clearing. He felt bad about it.

"Have there been any disturbing symptoms?" she asked, looking over his medical files. "Yeah, fuck, I still can't see!" he growled, but the curse didn't elicit any reaction from the woman.

She nodded flipping through the papers. "I already told you that it takes time. A few more weeks and the implants should start working with your brain."

"I heard the same thing a week ago," he snickered.

He heard her resigned sigh. "With this approach, we won't succeed, and you'll be blind for the rest of your life," she admonished in a harsh tone, putting the folder down on the desk.

He didn't respond. A moment later, something cool touched his face, dropping down coating it like an octopus. A monstrous, brief pain pierced his mind, then another. He fell into the silence and immensity of darkness. He could hear conversations merging into one formless stream of words. A needle pricked and he lost consciousness.

He woke up in his bed. He had the impression that he could see light beaming from the chandelier, but when he looked to the side he saw only black spots. Nothing had changed.

Detroit. Adam's apartment.

Adam sat on the sofa in the living room right next to Dr. Reed. For the first time, he felt absolutely nothing. Usually, he was at least happy that the woman he wanted to marry someday was now here by his side. Today he preferred it to be Laura. He felt the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder.

"If you're tired, we'll finish up another time," she offered. "You probably had plans today, and I barged in unannounced," she added with remorse in her voice. "No, not at all, you didn't interrupt me," he denied out of politeness and reached for his notebook. "Looks like there's only a little of it left," she said, glancing over his shoulder, then looked at her watch. "It's late, time for me to go. I'll see you at the company."

Jensen didn't protest, in fact, he wanted Megan to leave already, so he walked her to the exit where they made their rather formal Christmas wishes. As soon as Adam closed the door, he headed for the shower. He wanted to look perfect. Never before had he spent so much time styling his disheveled hair, picking out a shirt or tie. Finally, he decided that it couldn't get any better so he took the present he had bought for Laura and left the house.

Laura's apartment.

Laura ran up the stairs so fast that she could barely catch her breath. She hurriedly opened the door and immediately closed it behind her. She began crying hysterically after this sudden collision with reality. Adam did not miss her at all; he was indifferent to what was happening to her. That was the cruelest truth, worse than all the harm she had suffered at the hands of Kratos. All hope had died, there was nothing left. Her life had shattered into a thousand shards, the piecing together of which always ended with her hands mangled. She had dreamed of a wonderful Christmas, and Adam had given her hope, lit a light that was now extinguished.

One shoe stayed in the hallway, the other in the living room. The dress flew in an arc over the coffee table and fell to the sofa. The woman changed into a sweatsuit and decided that she would help her depression by watching television. Almost every channel was now broadcasting a program about the holidays, or at least playing appropriate songs.

A few minutes later, she decided she would unpack her suitcase. After all, what had happened was not its fault. Putting the dirty clothes into the washing machine, she found Adam's shirt. She sat down on the cold floor and immediately burst out crying. He wasn't worth a single tear of hers, but she couldn't do otherwise. For a good quarter of an hour, she couldn't calm down, only helped by Rupert's business card. She didn't want to disturb his peace on this special day, but she tapped the number instinctively and there was no turning back. In case he picked up, she would just think of something.

"Rupert MacKenzie. How can I help you?" he answered back in a rather formal voice. "Good evening, this is Laura. Sorry to bother you, I won't take up much of your time," she said trying not to cry. "I just wanted to... wish you a happy Christmas." "It's a very nice gesture, but I have a feeling there's more behind it so if you don't want to interrupt, say so right away," he ordered rather harshly.

He was a psychologist and knew many such ways to examine a situation and adjust the conversation accordingly. He knew Laura would not have called with wishes alone; after all, they did not know each other at all.

"I don't feel like living anymore," she said quietly. "I went to Adam's, I wanted to fix everything, but he wasn't alone and he didn't even invite me in. I tried, but it didn't work out."

Rupert didn't know what he should do. If he left her alone now, the woman might be unable to stand it. In many cases, similar words were just words, but he had concerns that Laura might lay violent hands on herself again. The man covered the speaker with his hand and turned to his wife.

"Demelza, shall we invite a stray soul for dinner?" he asked, though he knew what the answer would be. "No one should be alone tonight. I will prepare a room, right away. She will stay for the night," the woman informed with a bright smile and wiped her hands in her apron. "You are an angel," he replied when his wife had already left the room. "Laura, whatever happened is unimportant now. I invite you to join us for Christmas. We will have dinner together. Demelza is already preparing your room." "Out of the question! I don't want to cause trouble," she tried to retreat. "I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll send you the address in a message. See you soon." "But..." she wanted to protest further however Rupert quickly ended the conversation.

The woman read the message with a sigh of resignation. She packed a few things into her backpack and was about to dress in something less ordinary than usual when she remembered about Stalker. Fortunately, a neighbor had happily agreed to take the cat in for the night. Laura returned to the apartment, dressed in a blue, slightly shiny sweater and black trousers, put on black shoes with not very high heels. Before she put on her jacket and wrapped a scarf around her neck, she checked she had turned everything off. She was extremely afraid of this visit to a strange house, but Rupert reminded her so much of her father so she believed everything would be all right. Fortunately, she did not wait too long at the subway stop. Having found an empty seat, she put her earphones in her ears and started reading George Orwell's ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’.

Laura's apartment.

Adam was determined. He would get Laura back tonight even if Kratos was about to unleash hell. He would explain everything and it would be just like before again. He repeated those words in his mind as he climbed the next staircase. His determination turned to rage as soon as he was near the door to her apartment. It was caused by that damnable, cheeky grin of Connor's.

"You’re here to visit Laura too?" he asked cheerfully at the sight of the ex-SWAT. "Unfortunately I have to worry you because she's not home." "What do you mean she's not?" Adam raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "After all..." he stopped in time. Another moment, and he would have told this moron the entire incident that had occurred at his house. "She probably went shopping and will be right back," he suggested. "Go back to your place. I'll let you know if she comes back," he offered. "Out of the question," the Chief of Security hissed through his teeth, to which Connor merely shrugged his shoulders, leaned against the wall to the left of the door, and pulled out his phone.

Jensen did the same on the opposite side. He wasn't about to let go, and certainly not to him. What bothered him most was Laura's absence. It wasn't like her. What if, again...? The man shook his head. All he had left to do was wait, and Adam didn't like waiting.

All chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

#Deus Ex #DXHR #Deus Ex Human Revolution #Adam Jensen #Shadowfanfic #crunchy-shadow #Shadow's Showdown #Nifriel #I never asked for this #Fanfiction #Evie Dormer OC #Joe Mando OC #Cyberpunk #Writers on tumblr #Chapter 33: The Avalanche.

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sargeant-bxrnes · 3 years

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5 days, 1 boat.

summary: rafe gets you & him stuck in a boat in the middle of nowhere for 5 days, with no signal and having to wait for the patrol. ‘Accidentally’.

warnings: swearing, (rough) smut, manhandling, choking kink, rafe being a plotting lil shit, my english.

click for my master list.

word count: 8.2K [sorry it’s kinda long. went overboard w this]

DAY 0

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the blond standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island.

"And you want me to accompany you, why?" You questioned, waiting for a decent explanation.

"’Cause your brother has an event with Topper and Kelce," he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease. "And I need someone to go with me."

For more context, Rafe Cameron had asked you to accompany him on a little trip on his boat, there is a very specific kind of fish he wants to catch passing through the waters near Outer Banks; Rafe justifies his need to get that fish because it is his father's favorite, and he wants to show himself capable of catching it.

"And why don't you ask your sisters for help?" you questioned him, with some suspicion still.

"Mm, because they are my sisters." he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer; the truth is that not even his sisters could stand his annoying ass.

And that's what brought him to you, or at least that's what he's implying. And while you don't actually believe him, it's not like you could perceive any hidden intentions. You should've, but you couldn't.

You see, even though Damien, your older brother, and Rafe have been friends for YEARS, your relationship with Rafe isn't precisely the best. He has always been annoying, selfish, egocentric, and an idiot.

A hot idiot; for that matter, which made it complicated to hate him.

The relationship the two of you shared was based in teasing, lots of it, but of course, over the years it has changed. It went from a young Rafe teasing you for crying over princess' movies, to letting his eyes linger in your lips for longer than usual, casual grazings, and shameless comments.

All that, combined with his idiotic attitude, made the two of you have a constant banter-based relationship; all you two did was bicker, tease and sass the hell out of each other. Just like an old, married couple. Except you two weren't married, and couldn't make up as easily.

It drove your brother insane. He didn't care what it was that would get you and Rafe to stop bantering. He just wanted the two of you to stop.

"So? Are you coming with me or..." Rafe insisted, you had taken way too long to answer a simple yes or no question.

You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had, and considering it's impulsive, spontaneous Rafe we're talking about... it was indeed terrible.

"No." you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why.

Rafe looked actually taken aback by that, not being used to getting 'no' for an answer, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you'd said no was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rafe to keep insisting.

"Come on, it'll only be two days out," Rafe insisted, using the nicest voice he could. "Out there in the nice sea, in the Druthers, with food, drinks and a nice AC system... yeah?"

"You do realise my family also has a boat with AC?" you cleverly added. "And if I wanted to, I could go out to the nice sea with snacks too."

"But uh, do tell me, does your boat have a double jacuzzi?" he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth.

"I—"

"Uh huh, exactly."

"I can live without it."

"Oh, c'mon Y/N," Rafe sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding. "I'll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I'll get it for you. The only condition is you coming with me."

That really got you thinking.

Your family had money and influence, but no more than the Camerons. What Rafe promised you could range from drugs, to designer clothes and handbags, to that sort of thing. It really was anything.

Rafe may be an idiot, too impulsive and lately, coked out 90% of the time, but he can have a way with words if he puts his mind to it, you had to give that to him.

Somehow, the idiot had made it sound like an enjoyable proposition, a good weekend. A great fucking idea.

Yes. You two, going out there to the middle of the sea, alone. Like a great idea.

You already knew it was the worst fucking idea you'd agreed to in your entire life.

"Fine."

"You won't regret it."

You probably would, but oh well. Mistakes are the best teachers out there.

DAY 1

When you'd told your mother you were on your way out on a boat trip with Rafe, she had seemed happy the two of you had finally figured out your differences. She didn't really mind you being gone for God knows how long with someone like Rafe, and that speaks volumes.

In any way, you left. Rafe had waited for you to arrive at the dock near his house, and had complained about you being late, even though you weren't and he knew it.

In no time at all, the two of you were out. Rafe told you it would take a day to get there, and if the fishing went well, then he could catch the fish tomorrow and return the same day.

It didn't seem like a bad plan, so you saw no reason to complain, it seemed fair. And if it wasn't so many days together you could easily ignore him.

Rafe had kept his word about the ship's commodities, there were all kinds of snacks, drinks, and he had brought other kinds of substances. It was actually very comfortable, and a part of you was glad you'd accepted.

"From uh, alright so, from here, we have to go north," Rafe explained briefly as he pointed to the map, he slurred his words and constantly ran his finger under his nose.

"Uh huh." you replied distractedly, comfortable in the booth, with a bowl of blackberries to yourself and not paying attention to what he said.

"And then we have to stay there for a few hours," Rafe added and when he noticed you weren't paying attention, he rolled his eyes so badly he could've sworn he saw the inside of his head. But he's also high, so not very reliable. "Look, if I'm telling you this, it's because I don't want you to act like a bitch, alright?"

"Excuse you?" that comment totally got your attention, your eyebrows were raised in his direction, your expression surprised. And that was exactly what Rafe wanted.

"I don't want you to start bitching around ‘cause we stop for hours or ‘cause I ask you to shut up while I focus."

"I won't," you said with a roll of your eyes, throwing a berry at him. "I can easily ignore you."

"Don't," he shook his head, as he picked the berry up from the table and ate it. "Need you around."

"What for?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?" his eyes were focused back on the map as he leant over the table, trying to triangulate the perfect place.

"No, but I don't get you," you admitted with a frustrated tone. "You confuse the shit out of me."

"Well," he sighed heavily, waving you away with his hand. "You're always free to question me, and try to psycho fucking analyze me or whatever the hell you want, but in silence, yeah?"

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"I told you already," his tone was a tired one, as if he really didn't have the time or patience to say it again. "I can't do this alone. Someone has to watch over the boat while I fish."

"Right..." you narrowed your eyes at him, your suspicions being ignited again.

That excuse could've easily been bought by you, Rafe had a shitty luck when it came to trying to do something nice for his father; every time Rafe tried to prove himself, it totally backfired.

But it wasn't enough of an excuse. Only now is when you sense he's planning something else, you can only wish it's not a plan to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere to finally get rid of you, which is a thing you believe he is very capable of.

DAY 2.

"Any time now," Rafe mumbled in utter concentration, his lower lip in between his teeth, his hands wrapped around the fishing rod. "Any time."

You nodded your head silently, you sat next to him, observing him closely while he attempted to catch the fish. Although, he'd been standing there for 20 minutes and so far, had caught nothing.

5 more minutes passed and still nothing, so Rafe sighed heavily and left the rod in its place, with the hook still underwater. Rafe moved to take a seat next to you as he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

"So, why exactly are you being such a nice son and catching a fish that, apparently, doesn't want to be caught, for your father?" You questioned him, handing him a bottle of water after he glared at you for not doing it as soon as he sat down.

"Because I uh, I fucked up, again." he admitted with a heavy sigh, taking a big gulp of water.

"Yeah, figured."

"You're such a bitch, you know that?"

"And yet, you like me enough to have me around, so..." you shrugged in amusement, causing Rafe to roll his eyes at your attitude, however he didn't contradict you or spoke against your words. "So tell me, what did you do this time?"

"What didn't I do," his eyes were closed again, his head resting against the booth as you stared at him, his side profile, the way the sun hit his skin and his hair got messy by the wind. "Bought a bike with the backup generator money, I tried to steal, almost crashed the truck after a bad trip. And yelled at his precious little Sarah."

"Oh wow, you're the example of a good son." you replied with sarcasm. "Always doing the right thing, aren't you Rafe?"

"Oh, you're telling me 'Miss-I-fucked-a-young-Italian-dad-during-my-trip-and-he-was-my-father’s-associate.'" Rafe teased you with a cocky smile, causing you to turn your head to look at him with such a speed it was a miracle your neck hadn't snapped.

"How do you even know about that?" you questioned him; slightly bothered by it as you hit his shoulder with your open hand.

"I may, or may not have heard your phone call with Sarah over the phone."

"You mean eavesdropped?"

"The same shit," he shrugged in indifference, not really bothered by it. "So you're into older guys, yeah?"

"Like you care." you snorted, taking a sip of your beer.

"Call it curiosity."

Just as you were about to answer his question, to let him know something he actually wanted to know, the fishing rod began to twitch and wobble, almost falling overboard, were it not for the fact that you reached out to hold it at the same time he did, your hands brushing.

Rafe cleared his throat and began to pull the line, as the fish tried to flee for its life. After a battle in which you just watched; having no fucking clue about fishing; Rafe caught the fish. It was surprisingly big and beautiful, definitely not the kind of fish you can get from inside of Outer Banks.

"Oh, finally!" you said with a tone of incomparable joy, you were so happy to finally be able to leave there.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "We can go now."

"Thanks! I'll go start the engine."

You were so excited to get home, and happy that the idiot had finally gotten something right, that you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying to put your things away.

Rafe stood still in place, feeling the ghost of your lips on his cheek as a small smirk appeared on his lips.

But Rafe knew you two wouldn't leave just yet, and it wouldn't be long before you realized it as well.

3,2,1...

"Rafe?" you called him from the cabin. "We have no fuel."

"What do you mean?" he asked as he walked down the stairs to where you stood, staring at the machinery.

"It says empty, we have no gas."

"Well uh, that's bad." he said with a nod of his head, and even though the situation was indeed very bad, Rafe didn't sound concerned, like at all.

"Yeah, no shit."

"I guess we'll have to wait for someone to find us," he shrugged and your eyes widened at how much he didn't care. "Hey! Don't you look at me like that. What the fuck do you want me to do? There's no fuel and no signal."

Now is when you started to catch up with what he was up to, without saying anything you walked to the little compartment where you knew the Camerons kept an extra gallon of gas, just in case. The compartment was empty, and the phone was nowhere to be seen.

Oh. Oh.

"You asshole!" you turned to look at him; with an accusing finger held up high, pointed at his direction.

"Watch your tone, princess."

"You got us stuck here—"

Rafe didn't say anything; but an amused chuckle left his lips as his eyes ran over your body, picking up on every display of anger you showed.

"It's not funny, Rafe."

"Oh, I know," he said with a nod of his head, but that annoying smirk didn't leave his lips. "I know."

"Then why are you smiling?"

Rafe's smile only grew wider, and without saying anything else, he went back upstairs to deal with the fish, leaving you back in the cabin, completely dumbfounded.

DAY 3.

To say you were angry at him was an understatement, but you were at that point of anger where you didn't even bother to show it, you immediately resorted to ignoring Rafe.

You knew it had been a bad idea to even listen to him, but you did it, and now you were dealing with the consequences.

Where exactly did you think listening and trusting Rafe would get you? He's as stupid as your brother, you really should've known better.

There was no way you two could go anywhere, and since there was no phone signal there, you two couldn't ask anyone for help.

The only option left was to wait for the patrol to... fucking patrol and find you two out there. The thing is... it's a festive day back in Outer Banks, and knowing just how 'competent' the police is... It would take the patrol 2 more days, if not 3.

Luckily, there was enough food and resources to last a whole ass month there, but that wasn't what worried you.

It's the fact that it wouldn't just be 3 days with him. But... 5 days stuck in a boat with Rafe Cameron. All by yourselves.

So you better make it worth it.

You had had your doubts about it at first, but now you were more than grateful that you had packed your swimsuit.

Since you were giving Rafe the cold shoulder, you would have to find another way to entertain yourself; and being that you two are in the sea and the weather is nice, the most logical and comfortable thing to do would be to lie down on your towel, put on your sunglasses, and at least get a good tan out of it.

Rafe on the other hand, was annoyed with himself. He knew it was among the possibilities that you would get mad at him and do just what you are doing now, which is ignoring him completely.

But the truth is that Rafe was hoping that the situation would have a different resolution, that this anger would not end in not talking to each other, rather, it would push you two to do something else.

He hadn't seen you since last night, when you two had an argument during dinner about what an idiot he'd been for not making sure the fuel was enough, and he'd made you more angry by asking you why it bothered you so much to be alone with him.

Rafe teased you and gloated at the fact that he could manage to get you so nervous with just staring at you.

He knew why you were nervous. It's the same reason why he seemed so hell bent on trying to get you to admit it.

However, it was his turn to be nervous and your turn to gloat now.

Rafe felt his heart almost leap out of his chest as soon as he saw you come out of the booth, in your bathing suit, the one that accentuated every curve of your body. You'd worn it around him before, and the last time you did, he had to excuse himself to take an ice-cold shower, to deal with the hard-on.

You seemed not to have seen him, or if you had, then you did a very good job of pretending he wasn't there.

Once you knew you were within his range of view and he could see you perfectly well, you bent over to lay your towel on the floor of the boat, feeling the fabric of your bathing suit slide slightly over your bottom. It wasn't much, but just enough.

Rafe's jaw tightened so bad he feared his teeth would crack, to keep from letting out a groan at the sight, he closed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white; trying to get the image of you, bent over a few feet in front of him in nothing but your bathing suit, out of his mind.

Rafe knew you were doing it on purpose, you knew how much he liked that bathing suit on you, after all, he'd flirt with you every single time you wore it. But today? Right now? You were playing very dirty games with his head.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way your skin glowed under the sun, how well your swimsuit fit, and the fact that you were doing this to provoke him, caused his shorts to feel too tight all of a sudden.

Rafe didn't even know what to do with himself, and decided to go take a cold bath; he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of messing with his head like that.

He exited the small cabin he was in, you lifted your head to see him walk. Rafe looked a little uncomfortable and you noticed how he slightly tugged the front of his shorts as he walked.

"What, do I make you nervous, Rafey?" you teased in a loud voice, causing him to turn around and flip you off. Without saying anything else, Rafe entered another door and slammed it shut.

And with that, a little smile of victory appeared on your lips.

LATER ON DAY 3

Eventually, tanning got boring. You looked down at your own body, and lifted the edge of your swimsuit slightly, the tan lines were just the way you liked them, on point.

Full of satisfaction and happy with yourself, you gathered your things and decided to go back inside, maybe to take a bath and eat something.

You entered quietly, not wanting to attract Rafe's attention. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom, and there was no sign of him so far.

Just as you grabbed the bathroom doorknob to open it; the door opened. Out of the bathroom came Rafe, with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway at the sight, which you couldn't deny; it was very good.

The towel was wrapped around Rafe's hips, low enough so that his prominent V-line was visible to a rather dangerous point, one you didn't want to let your eyes get to.

He was shirtless, you had a perfect view of his defined torso and muscular arms, some droplets of water still rolled down his body, making a path from his chest, down his abdomen, and getting lost under his towel.

His hair was still wet, with a middle part, framing his face perfectly. His blue eyes were fixed on you, and you realized, —too late already—, there was a little smile on his lips, prompted by the way you were undressing him with your eyes.

"What, do I make you nervous, princess?" he questioned you, using the same condescending tone and smirk you had earlier; as he took a step closer to you.

You genuinely felt your knees weaken at his voice and the way he looked, but you were too proud to let him know that, so you simply shrugged.

"Come closer and maybe I'll tell you." you teased with a low tone, letting your eyes travel through his body.

Rafe's smirk widened, he thought that finally you two were on the same page, thinking about the same thing, and more importantly, that it would happen. He took a confident step towards you, so this way he was towering over you, his chest barely inches away from yours, his lips basically hovering over yours.

You placed both hands on his body, letting them travel from his abs all the way to his chest, causing him to bite his lip at the feeling. Rafe leant down even more, his lips grazing with yours, breaths mixing and skin touching.

And then...

You pushed him out of the way and locked yourself in the bathroom.

DAY 4

By doing that, provoking Rafe in that way and then putting a door between the two of you; you had started a silent game, in which you were provoking each other in an obvious way, waiting for one of you to give in.

After hours of playing tease, any slight contact or brush from Rafe's skin against yours had you biting your lip to silence a sound, and any look you gave Rafe with your bedroom eyes had him on the verge of jumping your bones.

The staring game got a little too heavy for Rafe, so he stood up from the booth and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up and immediately taking a drag.

You knew you couldn't let him get away with it, at least not without trying, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen as well, if he asked, then being dinner time would be a perfect excuse.

Rafe heard you walk into the kitchen, but paid no mind, deciding to focus solely on his cigarette, placing a hand on the kitchen island and letting his head hang low.

Funny enough, the drawer where pans are kept is right where Rafe is, by his left hand, and sure as hell you wouldn't ask anything from him. Which left you with an only choice.

You walked to where Rafe stood, which he noticed as he turned his head to look at you, and right when he took a step back, you found the perfect opportunity to slip right between him and the kitchen island, your body grinding on him, in all the right places.

The sound of Rafe's breathing picking up gave you a sense of victory, as you remained in front of him and bent slightly to take out the pan you needed, only to walk away right when you felt him harden behind you and the ghost of his hand over your hip.

He really thought he had you. Again.

Your smile of victory didn't disappear, not even when the stove wouldn't turn on and you had to resort to chopping fruit and hoping that was enough to rid your hunger.

Now is when Rafe found the perfect opportunity to tease you back, seeing as you were completely distracted while cutting fruit. He slowly walked back into the kitchen, making sure you couldn't hear him. You were completely clueless to his presence, even when he stood right behind you.

However, as soon as Rafe took another step closer; you did become aware of his presence. Very.

"Oh, don't mind me." he mumbled in your ear.

"What are you doing?" you asked, pretending to be completely unbothered, while the reality is that you're screaming on the inside. His chest was pressed to your back, one of his hands had found its way to your hips, and his breath tingled in your ear.

And right there was when he reached out to grab a glass; which was on the cabinet above your head.

The reality is that Rafe didn't have to stretch to reach the glass, it was just a matter of raising his arm. But where was the fun in that?

As he stretched, his body pressed even closer against yours, you could feel him hard against you, his breath now in your ear. And in an attempt to avoid his lips, you bent over, a move that only served in Rafe's favor, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to silence the moan that would come from your lips.

Both were thinking the same thing. Of just how easy it would be for him to take you right there and then.

But you wouldn't give up just yet, no sir, you still had one ace up your sleeve. Which is why you picked up your fruit tray and slid out from the right space between the bar and Rafe's body.

***

Normally, you wouldn't care if Rafe decided to just watch you eat instead of eating something himself, but right now it had you on edge.

He was sitting on the seat in front of you, his legs spread slightly, his hands on his thighs, and his eyes fixed on you. He was basically manspreading, ocassionally lifting his hips from the chair to 'get comfortable', but you weren't stupid.

"Are you done flexing your muscles now?" you asked boredly, raising an eyebrow at Rafe.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed again as you stood up, his eyes followed your hand closely, especially when you drove your fingers to your lips and sucked the remaining fruit juice off them. The sight almost made him roll his eyes, but not in annoyance.

"I'm going to the jacuzzi," you announced, letting your eyes travel over him. "You do you."

Even though it had not been an open or direct invitation, you knew Rafe had understood the innuendo.

You hurried to the jacuzzi, taking off your clothes as the water heated up, you poured the bubble soap while letting your hair down, knowing that Rafe wouldn't be long in coming, although he wasn't hot on your heels to disguise how desperate he was, you knew he was coming for you.

As you stared at the steaming, bubbly water, a wicked idea found its way to your mind.

Meanwhile, Rafe paced back and forth in the hallway, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, especially when he stopped and had that urge to open the bathroom door where he knew you were.

He wanted this. He had been waiting for years for you to figure it out, but you never did and he wouldn't risk anything.

But now? Now you're just a door away, and what's holding him back is his pride. Knowing that if he opens that door, he's admitting his need for you. Proving that chasing after you is more important than his pride.

He cursed himself for what felt the longest time before giving in and opening the bathroom door. The first thing he saw was steam. Lots of it. It made him squint his eyes while they trailed over the place in search of you.

His eyes fell on the jacuzzi, it was filled with small bubbles, the room smelt like vanilla. Rafe just stood near the entrance, his eyes slowly travelling through the bubbles, for he knew he'd find you at the edge of the jacuzzi.

And there you were, your back pressed against the side of the jacuzzi, arms spread over the edge, the bubbly water covering your body, stopping right below your collarbone, just atop of your chest.

His mind automatically went places, but Rafe kept his thoughts at bay as he took off his shirt without a word. You did nothing but stare at him, your eyes following every move, from the way he gripped the edge of his shirt, to the way he slid it off his body and his torso came into view.

Rafe took a step closer, but he felt something soft under his foot, so he looked down. And what did he find?

Your swimming suit.

At first he didn't process entirely what it meant, but then his eyes widened. You were naked. In the jacuzzi that's just a couple of steps away from him. And he was just... standing there like an idiot? Rafe was embarrassed of himself.

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you noticed how flustered Rafe suddenly was, he actually struggled while taking off his shorts and if you hadn't been so amused by the view, you would have offered to help.

Eventually he stopped fumbling with its ties, and right when he pulled it down his hips, you looked away. Your tongue glided over your teeth as you felt the temptation to look, but you were stronger than that.

"Enjoying the jacuzzi you said you could live without?" Rafe asked in a calm tone as he got in it, sitting by your right side.

"Very much," you assured, running your hand through the water, moving the bubbles slightly, you really had no intention other than to distract yourself from how nervous you were, still, Rafe tried to see through the bubbles.

Rafe couldn't handle himself anymore, he had denied himself for so long that he wanted you. Told himself he was crazy. But now that he has you in front of him and has spent 4 days alone with you, he is more than sure that he wants you.

And he will do anything to have you.

He knew this would be pathetic, lame even, but it would work.

As both did nothing but enjoy the hot tub, and tried to ignore each other's bodies, Rafe discreetly slid his hand to the side control panel of the hot tub.

Although he would never admit it, Rafe spends so much time in the hot tub that he learned the controls by heart. So he knew exactly which buttons to push to disable two of the hot tub jets, the ones on your side, for that matter.

Your state of relaxation was interrupted as soon as you stopped feeling the hot water flowing on your side of the jacuzzi, the vibrations had stopped and you no longer felt the soft massages on your skin.

You raised your head and opened your eyes, noticing that indeed, the water stopped on your side. "What the..."

"What's wrong?" Rafe asked, his eyes closed as he did his best to hide a little smirk.

"The water just... stopped." you replied in confusion, not understanding why he was so calm.

"Oh, that's bad, my side is just fine." he replied simply, opening his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at his disinterested tone. You couldn't believe that you had actually gone out of your way to plan all this, and he couldn't even stop being an idiot for a second.

Utterly done with his bullshit, you slowly moved to the little steps that led out of the hot tub, the last thing you wanted was to slip and embarrass yourself.

However, before you could even reach them, you felt long fingers wrapping around your wrist, his skin was soft and warm due to the hot bubbly water. You turned to look at him, doing your best to keep your eyes focused on his.

"Come closer." his voice was calm, his fingers softly tugged your wrist; as if wanting to pull you closer but not quite to make you uncomfortable.

'Fuck it.' you thought.

You complied to his request and walked slowly to where he sat, the bubbles doing all the work and covering your body from his. You kept getting closer, Rafe slowly opened his legs, so you could stand between them.

The feeling of the skin of his thighs against yours was your cue to stop, knowing that if you took one step closer, you'd feel him against you.

His eyes bore on yours. The light blue of his eyes was darkened by the lust running through his body, his pupils were dilated, his lips plump and red. He was one hell of a beautiful man.

Your faces were inches away from each other, but neither would yield to temptation.

You bit your lip slightly as soon as you felt Rafe's large hands resting on your hips, while the grip wasn't too strong, it was firm, showing he wasn't hesitating.

Testing the waters, you took a step closer and he let you, the grip on your waist becoming firmer and more secure, you could even say you felt him pulling you into his body slightly.

Keeping eye contact; Rafe's hand began to slide lightly, letting go of your waist, brushing your hip with his fingertips. His hand moved down to your thigh, where he too caressed your thigh with his fingertips, drawing imaginary circles, which moved closer and closer to the center of your legs.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt fire in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him. And you wanted him now. But you also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe after all you were as stubborn as he claimed you were.

You motioned to move your leg, and immediately, Rafe took a hold of your thigh, stopping you. A smirk appeared on your lips.

Without saying anything, you yielded to his touch and moved even closer, putting your leg over his thigh, and quickly bringing the other leg up as well, straddling him.

The direct contact of your skin with Rafe's, your core brushing against his dick... made him let out an agitated sigh right in your ear.

And you would have teased him about it, but the truth is that the contact of his hard dick against your body almost made you moan. He was right under you, all it took was for you to raise slightly and for him to align himself.

Ignoring how much you wanted to grind on him, you put your arms around his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck in the process, moving even closer, your chest pressed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder, wanting to enjoy the warm water a while longer before the inevitable happened.

Rafe didn't know if this was a gift or a punishment; either way, he was enjoying it as much as he was suffering from it. His arms wrapped around your body, your breasts pressed against his chest, your pussy brushing just the right places on his dick.

If this is the game you wanted to play, then Rafe would be just as good at it.

He lifted his hips slightly and at that you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which you prayed he hadn't heard, but he did, and it only fed his ego.

As his fingertips caressed your spine, Rafe moved your hair from your shoulders to get access, and brought his lips to your neck.

He started with innocent kisses, little brushes of his lips against your skin, while his fingertips caressed your skin.

However, Rafe was determined to break you.

He brought his lips to the small spot below your ear, where he sucked, receiving an audible moan from you. One of his hands had slid down your back until it ended at your ass, which he squeezed and used to push your body against his, grinding on him.

"Fuck..." you mumbled, throwing your head back out of mere instinct.

He had so many dirty comments to make, but he decided to concentrate on you. Since you had thrown your head back, he had more access to your neck. He brought his lips to your skin again, starting to leave little bites and kisses all over, while one of his hands traveled to your breasts, his fingers taking one of your nipples and giving it a twist on his fingers.

At this you squirmed slightly on top of him, your hips moving against his, rubbing his dick in such a perfect way that it made him growl against your skin.

"You like that, princess?" I murmur against your skin, voice husky. "Want me to do it again?"

"Yes." you mumbled breathlessly.

"Yes what?"

Oh, his bitch ass wanted you to beg?

Slightly annoyed by his cockiness, you purposefully grinded your hips against his; making sure to touch him in all the right places.

Rafe let out a mixture of a groan and a moan at that, your attitude only teasing him further. He slid the hand that had been on your nipple, now focusing on the space between your legs.

And as soon as you saw the cocky smirk on his lips and his lustful stare, you knew it was over for you.

His fingers moved deftly between your legs, as you grasped his jaw and moved his head to the side, so that you could have access to his neck and an efficient way to quiet the sounds he would elicit from you.

His index finger slipped between your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit until he found it, and began to give circular notions.

He had found it, and fast. That's why you were surprised and accidentally left a little bite on his neck, which was welcomed by Rafe, as he started to speed up his thumb and slid his middle finger inside you.

"Rafe," you murmured, your walls automatically tightening around his finger.

"Does this feel good?" he murmured in your ear as his thumb accelerated his movements, he slid his ring finger in as well, your walls clenching at his voice. "Oh it does, you're already clenching around my fingers, princess."

Now he had two fingers inside you, which he began to move in a come hither motion, hitting your spot, the one you didn't know existed, but Rafe (of all people) had found in a matter of minutes.

"Fuck Rafe-"

He could feel you, how your walls clenched around his fingers so tightly it was hard for him to move them, your kisses on his neck had become sloppy and wet, your eyes were closed.

And just when you felt you would reach the tip of ecstasy, Rafe pulled his fingers out of you.

You were about to insult him, but he spoke first, taking your jaw with one of his hands, fixing his eyes on yours.

"The first time I make you cum, it will be on my dick, yeah?"

And you swore you could've come right there. Just by his words.

"Yeah?" he questioned again, making you realize it had been more of a way to get your permission.

"Yeah." you nodded your head eagerly, and that was all he needed.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you and stood up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, biting your lip in anticipation for what was about to come.

Rafe knew the boat like the back of his hand, so in a matter of no time, both were in his room, Rafe placed you down on his bed, not caring in the least that you were wetting it and dripping it with bubbles.

Rafe was soon close to you again, his lips on your skin. Your breathing started to become erratic, unable to control yourself in the face of the new sensations. His kisses traveled all over your neck, part of your shoulders and even on your jaw.

Without a word, Rafe grabbed you with moderate force by the jaw, and caught your lips with his immediately.

You lost yourself in the kiss completely, the sensation of his lips against yours being a new piece of paradise you had just discovered.

Forbidden paradise at that. Rafe Cameron himself was making you feel like this, it was wrong… but it felt so right.

You laid completely on your back as he hovered on top of you, his lips still on yours. The kiss wasn't like you imagined your first kiss with him would be, this one was.... More desperate, with lust.

Unable to stay still and wanting to discover your whole body, Rafe began to leave kisses and little bites on your neck, making your skin hot with desperation. You tried to grab his face to bring him back to your lips, but as soon as you tried, he pulled away from you, took your wrists and put them against the bed, his face was above yours, the room was barely being illuminated by the light that was filtering through the blinds, so you couldn't see much, only the shadow of his features.

"I'm done playing this little game." he said over your lips, his voice hoarser than usual, and his breathing was rapid. “You want me?”

"I want you."

You saw the shadow of a victorious smile on his lips, and felt them against yours again, he put both hands holding your wrists above your head, and held both of your wrists with one hand, having the other one free.

His kisses began to descend again, with a slowness that clearly had the sole purpose of driving you crazy.

You lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel some more of him, Rafe took advantage of this and positioned himself between your legs with ease.

He stopped kissing you momentarily, you could feel his breath on your skin, the light was enough to know he was staring at you.

Without warning, he returned his hand to between your thighs and now pushed three fingers inside you, while his thumb returned to your clit, you inevitably ended up letting out a moan, as his fingers had hit the right spot again. Having located the spot already, he began to move his fingers faster and deeper, curving them from time to time, accelerating the speed of his thumb as well.

Rafe wanted to engrave this image of you inside of his eyelids, to see you squirming under him every time he closed his eyes.

His lips went lower and lower, until his head was between your thighs and your hand was lost in his hair. His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out a moan you were ashamed of, because of how loud it had been.

His hand kept up that incredible rhythm, but what made you almost climax was the feeling after he sucked on your clit and bit down lightly.

"Rafe, Rafe I'm gonna—"

That was all he needed to know to remove his hand, he would keep up with his word. As soon as he moved his hand away from your pussy, you immediately felt the emptiness, but you were too busy getting back to normal to complain.

Rafe brought his fingers covered with your wetness to his lips and licked them clean, the sight of that, combined with the "mmm" he let out, was mouth watering.

Rafe pulled you closer to him, so that your legs were over his thighs, he placed his hands on the sides of your head. His dick rubbed against your entrance, which brought gasps to both of your lips.

He leaned over you and you could hear his breathing fast and heavy in your ear, it was almost like he was waiting for something.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "I'm on the pill—"

You didn't have to finish saying the sentence for him to enter you with a quick movement of his hips, making you moan immediately, it took a few seconds to get used to the sensation of having him inside you. He's... big.

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting out hoarse mumbles of how good you felt, directly into your ear. Once you felt comfortable, you tightened your walls around him, which made him let out a grunt and start moving his hips against yours.

You brought your hands to his neck and pulled his face to yours, bringing your lips together in a desperate kiss, as his hips moved incessantly, one of your hands tangled in his hair, and as if on reflex, he put a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly, something that made you moan into his lips.

"You're mine, you know that, don't you?" he whispered in your ear.

"Rafe—"

"I'll ruin you for other men. No one will ever make you feel like this, mark my words."

His words and the movement of his hips made your eyes roll. "Don't stop."

He pulled his face away from yours and placed his weight on the arm he has placed at the side of your head, speeding up the movements. You wrapped your legs around his waist to deepen things.

You noticed that he started to slow down, but his movements still had depth, you knew he was doing it so he wouldn't tire quickly, but maybe you could help.

You used a considerable amount of strength to be able to turn you both around, ending up on top of him, while he looked at you with his lower lip between his teeth.

Just to tease him further, you slipped his dick out of you and moved away, your body hovering over his thighs, he sat down on the bed, waiting for you to do something, but you only smirked at him.

Rafe sat there while stroking himself, and being done with your attitude, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to him, starting to fill your breasts with wet kisses and hickeys, bitting your nipples from time to time, while you put your legs around him, slowly positioning yourself on top of him.

You knew you wouldn’t last too long away from him, anyway.

"Stop teasing me, princess."

"If not, where's the fun?"

He used the grip he had on your hips and pulled you down, entering you again, a hoarse moan came from his lips. You pushed him down by the chest so he’d lay down, and began to move on top of him, in circles and up and down while his hands were on your hips and yours on his chest.

You knew those moves were only satisfying to yourself, as you moved as you needed to, and Rafe was quick to notice that.

The grip he had on your hips began to increase in strength, a sign that he was getting desperate. Until he finally sat down in a rush, and began to move you at the pace he wanted, as the hand he kept on your hip guaranteed him control.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that?" he emphasised every word with a hip thrust. "My brat."

"Fuck, fuck- Rafe..."you weren't even able to say his name, or speak at all.

You placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his neck, starting to move faster, he left sloppy kisses on your chest and collarbone, you scratched his back, and sometimes left bites on his shoulder to stifle moans, especially when he murmured things in your ear, along the lines of "you're mine" "who does this pussy belong to?”

If you had known Rafe Cameron had such talent for dirty talk...

It didn't take long before you two began to lose rhythm, his movements were erratic, and your speed had slowed.

Until he finally came inside you, seeing the way his eyes closed tightly, as heavy breaths came from between his pink lips along with the "Shit, Y/N, you feel like heaven," he mumbled, was what made you climax too.

While both came down of your highs, there was nothing but silence, Rafe was still inside you, and remained like that when he collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around his body, both falling asleep without another word.

DAY 5

Boundaries.

Neither of you knew which ones were there and which ones had been erased last night, but you and Rafe knew that the relationship had changed.

You'd woke up with Rafe still buried inside you, and a set of awkward interactions followed.

When the police arrived for both in the morning, Shoupe asked how you've been, and said "sorry" for ‘being late.’

You already knew that Rafe had probably bribed him not to come earlier, though.

Both sat on the booth while the police officer refilled the gas tank, and the silence between both was slightly awkward.

"So," Rafe said, stretching his arm behind you, placing it around your waist and pulling you closer to him, not in a sweet way, more in a possessive one. "The Club, 9 o'clock?"

"Huh?" you raised your brow at him.

"You're mine, I told you," Rafe said firmly, his eyes locked on yours. "And I'm going to show you how there's no one better for you than me—"

"—After you fucked the shit out of me."

"— by taking you out to dinner. And from there, wherever you want, but together."

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 2 years

Text

Day 4: Breakdown

Undeserved

Warnings: (Hand) Gore, captivity, blood, language

This is part of a series. If you haven't, I suggest starting at Day 1.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

It took Damien a long time to find the strength to move. Trying very hard to keep his right hand still, he grabbed the bars of the cage with his left hand. He pushed himself away a bit, so the top of his head was no longer pressed against the metal, then turned around. By the time he had shifted to lie on his left side, his arm was trembling and he was out of breath. At least he managed to raise his head, to look around.

He had already guessed it from still feeling the sun warming his back, but the cage had no cover. Just more metal bars above, and some half rotten wood panels beneath him, covered with straw of all things. Damien wondered if the cage had already been used for some kind of animal, or only been prepared for it. It was disgusting. He could count himself lucky, though. He doubted they would have been nice enough to add the wood and straw for him, would have thrown him on the bare metal bars instead.

The cage was small, too. Too small for one of the steppe lions, so he most likely wasn’t lying in cat piss. Could still be dog shit, though, he probably wouldn’t notice it over the stench of his own blood and charred flesh. He groaned as he struggled to lift his head higher, to see the other end of the cage. The closing of the door had shoved his legs inside it. Damien found that there wasn’t enough room to stand or lie down properly; he’d barely be able to sit, even if he’d manage to get that far.

For now, it didn’t seem like he would. He was already out of breath, just from turning to his side. There was only one thing left for him to do, one thing he had to do. If only the mere thought didn’t turn his stomach and make him break out into cold sweat. He stared through the bars, his vision too blurry to see more than colorless tents and half-dead grass. The fingers of his unharmed hand were squeezing the metal and he pulled his legs closer to his chest. Curling up like a frightened child.

What was the worst thing he could find? Perhaps his hand to be gone, the pain nothing more than a memory that would stick with him for the very short rest of his very pathetic life.

No, he realized after a moment, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could find. The worst thing would be finding his hand looking like it had felt when those fucking assholes had dragged it over the ground. Charred and bloody and ruined, with pieces of bone sticking out and patches of flesh coming off. He imagined the picture, clung to it, even if it made him feel sick. If he was ready for that, it couldn’t get worse, could it?

When he finally found the courage to look, it was every bit as horrible as he had feared.

Not that it mattered. A dead man would need no hand. If only it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much. He could feel every single heartbeat, pulsing like liquid fire in his arm. Pulsing way too quickly, too, should a heart beat this fast?

He tried to breathe calmly, to fight the terror. It didn’t work. It didn’t matter, he told himself. He wouldn’t need a hand where he was going. Or any other body part, for that matter, other than his neck. The thought made him laugh bitterly, then sob as his breath hitched. By Duriath, he didn’t want to die, didn’t want to feel the rope squeezing every last bit of life out of him.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It fucking did matter. Because it was his fucking hand, hanging from his wrist in shreds. It didn’t help that he knew he’d never need it again, would never get to hold a pen or tool again. He wanted to. He wanted to sit in the summer sun, wanted to write a letter on golden parchment, wanted to watch the glass spin until it broke the light into every color of the rainbow.

He curled up, pressing his hot forehead against the cool metal. Cradling his right hand against his chest was both agony and relief. It hurt so, so much, like being torn apart all over again. Damien could barely breathe, every inhale and exhale passing his lips in a shuddering whimper. But it also stopped his hand from feeling like it was falling apart, like every moment what little remained of his flesh would just come off, leaving the half-charred bones exposed.

He didn’t want it to fall apart, he wanted it to be whole, and his. He tried to fight the tears, gathering behind his eyes, making his headache worse. He knew, the moment he’d give in, he’d break down completely. Just because he seemed to be alone now, didn’t mean they wouldn’t notice. They had already caged him like a fucking animal, he didn’t want to give them this satisfaction, too.

He didn’t want to.

He didn’t…

When he gave up, when he allowed himself to cry, he didn’t only cry for his hand, or the life he was about to lose. He cried for the life he had already lost, so many years ago. A life he had never deserved, he had never been good enough for. He hadn’t been good enough for his father, he hadn’t been good enough for his brother. In the end, it really was no surprise that he hadn’t been good enough for himself, either.

Tagging: @villainsvictim @whump-in-the-moonlight @dont-touch-my-soup

#Undeserved #whump #gore tw #blood tw #captivity tw #Agony April #Agony April 2022 #Agony April Day 4 #my writing

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

Text

One of the Boys

Virgil is a new tenant to an apartment complex and his landlord seems real nice. He told Virgil that should he ever need anything fixed to just give a call. He managed to get over the anxiety of calling someone for help, now he needs to get over the gay panic he experiences every time his landlord sends ‘one of the boys’ over.

Pairing: Everyone has a crush on Virgil who is also gay for everyone.

Warnings: panic descriptions from talking over the phone/to new people. Possible second hand embarrassment, swearing

Prompt pic at the end.

In all fairness, Virgil loves his new place. Way more than the old place he used to live at least. At least here the walls weren’t cracked and seemed sturdy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors through them. While he does his sweep of the place, writing down anything that might be wrong so the landlord can’t blame them on him, there’s barely anything broken or messed up. A clear step up from his old apartment.

“What you say Oogies?” Virgil nods to the black cat lounging on the cat tower after he’s finished his walk through. The cat stares at him, he stares back. They blink slowly at the same time and Virgil puffs out a breath. OogieBoogie wasn’t fond of the move. Complaining loudly at every jostle of the cat carrier. Virgil wanted to let her out but couldn’t until all his stuff was moved in for her safety. Seems like he’s forgiven.

“Come on lazy bones,” He finagles the cat out of the tower and she curls over his shoulders, paws dipping into the hood of his hoodie, and purrs. He smiles and scratches at her chin. For the most part she blends into the patterned fabric, her grey stripes the only thing that pop out, and even then only barely.

Virgil locks the apartment door, cat on his shoulders, and walk-through papers in hand. They walk their way around the complex and to the main office building. Virgil almost hesitates, thinking maybe he should go tomorrow morning at a better time, but OggieBoogie nuzzles his head encouragingly.

“Yeah okay,” He whispers to the animal, knowing she’s smug as he opens the door. It’s fluorescently bright. There’s no one at the front desk. Virgil takes two steps, and nearly backs out, when a friendly face pops out of one of the offices.

“Oh Virgil!” Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes the elderly face

“Hey Mr Sanders,” He gives an awkward wave. The cheery man laughs.

“You may call me Thomas you know,” He says smiling at his cat and waving to the animal. She blinks at him.

“Right, yeah, course, Mr. Thomas yeah,” Virgil says. Thomas gives him a fond smile but doesn’t correct him. Thank god. Thomas helped him fill out lease papers when he first came to check out new apartments. Honestly a blessing as Virgil had no idea what he was doing. Bonus that Thomas professed the place to be queer friendly as well. Virgil hung up his rainbow flag in the window the moment he found it.

“Oh I brought the walk through papers back,” He hands them over and Thomas takes them happily.

“Everything good so far?” He asks. Virgil nods, nothing on there that he thought needed fixing, at least right away.

“Oh,” Thomas says softly. Virgil tenses and Oogie starts purring on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Are you having problems with the lights?” Thomas asks, very sincerely. Virgil shrugs a little and Oogie shifts to accommodate his motions.

“Not really, nothing serious,” He tries to play it off. Thomas pouts at his papers.

“Some of the plugs not screwed in properly, not working, a light out in the laundry area,” Thomas ‘tsks’ as he reads off Virgil’s writing. He perks up and offers Virgil a bright smile.

“No worries at all! I’ll send one of the boys over to fix it.” He offers Virgil a wink and riffles through his pockets. He pulls out his wallet and inside it a business card for the office that he promptly hands over.

“You ever need anything fixed, do not be afraid to call ya hear?” Virgil just nods, taking the card with him.

“Wait the boys?” He finds himself questioning. Thomas smiles again with a flippant wave of his hand.

“It’s the name of the contractor company I have hired here for the apartments. Someone should be over in about an hour to help you with the lights.” And with that Thomas is walking away to his own office, leaving Virgil to go back to his new home.

“Shit,” He mutters as he now realizes. Company coming over, and his new home is a mess. He walks quicker than he normally does to try and clean a little before ‘one of the boys’ makes it over. Oogie is not as impressed.

Virgil does well distracting himself. He organizes the boxes and even rearranges the hazardously brought in furniture to his liking. Oogie is lounging in her cat tower again, watching him try not to be frantic. He’s in the middle of putting some tupperware containers in the cabinets when there’s a knock on the door.

He wipes his hands on his jeans to make sure they’re not sweaty, and opens the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind he debates slamming it shut but in the end remains frozen with the front door wide open. Cause there in front of him is an absolutely gorgeous guy, hair slicked back and a cunning smile.

“Good afternoon, my name is Damien. Mr. Sanders said you needed help with some of your lights?” His voice sounds like silk and though there’s a long scar across side of his face, it takes nothing away from his beauty.

“Uh yeah.” Virgil says awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He says even more awkwardly and moves to the side to let the guy in.

“Much appreciated,” The guy, Damien says. Virgil can’t tell if the dude is cheeky or not, but damn is he flustered trying not to stare at his arms and the way he moves in those white jeans. Who wears white jeans to fix things? Virgil should send them a thank you note.

“Which plugs were having issues?” Damien asks then and Virgil decides words are not needed just this moment and deigns to gesture as best he can. Damien smiles at him and sets to work straightening some of the plugs out and replacing one in the corner when he notices a crack in the casing.

“Excuse me, miss.” He hears Damien say and peeks over his kitchen counter to see Damien gently nudging Oogie away from some of his tools. Virgil whines.

“Oogies come on let the man do his job,” Virgil goes over and scoops the cat up, petting her head to keep her from getting annoyed that she couldn’t continue with her curiosity. Damien laughs though and stands, now taking out the walk through Virgil so diligently wrote not 2 hours ago.

“You said that some of the plugs don’t work and that some of the switches don’t lead to anything?” He glances at Virgil with just a hint of a smirk. Virgil hugs Oogie a little tighter to keep his gay panic from spiraling.

“Yeah just seemed weird? I didn’t know if it was something wrong or what,” He says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. Damien lets out a small laugh and waves Virgil to follow. He pulls out a small plug in light and pushes into one of the sockets Virgil said wasn’t working. He flicks the switch on the wall and the light pops on.

“Oh,” Virgil says and wants to die of embarrassment.

“Well now I feel stupid as fuck,” He says. Damien lets out another laugh, flicking the light twice more to demonstrate.

“It’s to save power that some of the switches lead to the plugs. Nothing broken there. You’re not stupid because you didn’t know.” He takes back his light and once more gives Virgil that sly smile. The worst is he smiles in a way that makes it seem like he knows what he’s doing to Virgil, which is just rude. Except he’s not, Damien is insanely polite which does not help Virgil in the slightest.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Damien asks as he puts the last of his tools back in the case.

“Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Virgil says, determined not to make a fool of himself this time. Damien nods his head.

“Have a good rest of your day then. It was a pleasure meeting you,” And this smug bastard winks at him and closes the door behind him. Virgil lets Oogie fall to the floor, picks up the nearest pillow, and screams into it. At least he can do it with proper working lights.

Virgil is freaking out. There’s no other way to put it. He is freaking out. So he got a little lazy and didn’t do his dishes. He’s been working so often and never found the energy to keep up. He decided he had a dishwasher for a reason, and even though he felt bad because the machine wasn’t even full, he ran it, and now there is water over the floor. Shit.

He sits on the couch, legs bouncing, with his phone in his hands. Thomas’s number is on the screen, ready to be dialed at the press of a button. Virgil still isn’t sure if this counts as a proper emergency. He managed to clean up most the water with some of his towels, but water is still coming out. Maybe if he just keeps rinsing out the towels and waits for the cycle to be done, he can pretend it never happened.

OogieBoogie jumps into his lap. She kneeds at his leg and is put out when he doesn’t move right away to pet her or give her proper access to his lap. She bumps her head against him and pushes her way to his chest, knocking his phone with her foot in the process.Virgil hisses at the action and ruffles her face in revenge.

“Hello?” A very faint voice calls out. Virgil swears softly and picks up his phone.

“Uh Mr Sanders Thomas?” He says into the receiver, then pulls it away to stare at the ceiling to briefly wonder what is wrong with himself.

“Yes?” Thomas says on the other line.

“It’s Virgil from Unit 16 B.”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas doesn’t sound put out that Virgil is calling him, which is a good sign so far. Virgil takes a deep breath, hands working methodically though Oogie’s fur.

“Doing okay yeah, how are you?” He says, it’s important to be polite. Thomas laughs.

“Doing good over here. What can I help you with?”

“Uhm, my dishwasher is leaking? And there’s water on the floor and I don’t know how to fix it. You said I could call if something is wrong and I just, yeah.” Virgil shrugs to himself. Thomas gasps on the other end.

“Oh no! That won’t do. I’ll send one of the boys over to help clean it up.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil stares at the phone, then at his cat, then back at the dishwasher. He really doesn’t want Damien to see him embarrassed like this again. He buries his face in Oogie’s side and lets her purr calm him down. He must be there for a while because soon enough there’s a knock on the door.

Thankfully, it’s not Damien on the other end. However, it’s another incredibly attractive guy with a wild smile and even wilder hair that makes Virgil tense up because how. This one wears a shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show how ripped their arms are, and again, white jeans, though this time, the jeans are not as white as they once were, evidence of the work that has been done in them.

“Afternoodle! I’m Remus. The Sander’s Man said something was wishy-washy with your dishy-washy?” His smile in untamed and Virgil stares at him dumbly trying to understand what the hell just came out of his mouth.

“Yes?” He ends up asking more than saying, and moves over so Remus can come inside.

“Much appreciated, now what is gong on here?” Remus smirks down at the mess of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I just ran the dishwasher and water started coming out. I was in the kitchen when I felt it on my foot.” Virgil explains as Remus moves some of the soaked towels over. He finagles the machine to open, something Virgil was too scared to try.

“Oh boy, I see. Give me one hot second here hot tamale, and I’ll get this all cleaned up.” Virgil isn’t sure what he should be more flustered by. Being called hot by a hot guy, or the fact the dude flexed while talking and there is some serious definition in his arms. So Virgil just nods as Remus skips out to the maintenance golf cart outside the door, and brings back in a tool box.

Virgil watches from over the counter as Remus pulls out the racks and practically crawls his way into the dishwasher. Virgil decides it’s a good time to walk away so he doesn’t end up staring at Remus’s ass while he works. That’s not proper behavior for someone who is trying to help.

It’s a few minutes, one colorful yet not quite a swear, and a victory noise later that Virgil feels okay going back to the kitchen area.

“Oh! Hello~ pusspuss!” Virgil gets to watch the exact moment Remus looks up to see Oogie staring at him working. Virgil scoops the cat up.

“Sorry she’s really into strangers.” He says. Though really, she hides from everyone. Remus lets out a cackle of a laugh.

“That’s fine, I’m into strangers too. So I fixed the problem here, no more soggy floors for you. Make sure to run it every so often so it keeps things going clean and unclogged.” Remus says far too quickly for Virgil to respond properly. He picks up his tools and returns them to the case. Virgil does a half-assed job of not staring at his back which is now water soaked.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remus asks at the door. Virgil shakes his head.

“As long as it works I think I’m good,” He says. Remus smiles openly.

“Have a good rest of your day then!” He says and closes the door behind him. There was really no reason for him to flex as he said that but Virgil enjoyed it and no one else has to know.

“Shit shit shit,” Virgil is fumbling. He had to go grocery shopping and get some cat food for OogieBoogieBaby. And no self respecting trash panda such as himself would dream of carrying it back inside in more than one trip. So he’s fumbling with his arms lined with bags that would be cutting into his skin if not for his hoodie sleeves, but even then, those are falling and he wishes it wasn't so hot out.

He manages to make it to his door, shift some bags around so he can get his key out, when the bag of cat food starts slipping. Virgil can see it now, cat food all over the front porch to either collect ants, or other cats, or any other large animal. He wouldn’t feed it to Oogie, to afraid of what is on the ground and if it’ll upset her stomach. He braces for impact and for another quick trip to the store.

“Whoa!” Virgil feels the weight leave him but not the crash. He blinks at the ground, then at a pair of white jeans, then at the bag of cat food in someone else’s arms, then up to the face of a bespectacled stranger with brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” Stranger asks calmly and takes another bag from Virgil that looks ready to topple at a second’s notice. Virgil snaps out of it once it’s out of his hands.

“Shit yeah thanks,” He breathes out in a rush, thankful as all hell as he manages to finally get the door open. He pushes it with his hip and Oogie is waiting at the door for him, meowing up at him. He coos a greeting to her and sets the bags down in the kitchen, the stranger follows only to the inside door and puts the bags down there to not intrude.

“Thank you so much,” Virgil says once he’s done pretending he can carry that much. The stranger just offers him a small smile, kneeling down to let Oogie sniff his gardening glove covered hands.

“It was my pleasure to help you. My name is Logan, I’m one of the workers on site.” He says and stands. His voice is low and calming, it would make for a great audio book, and Virgil is not going to spend the rest of the day thinking about that.

“Though I do apologize for suddenly grabbing your things, I know that can come across as ‘creepy’ and I do not wish for that to be my first impression.” He pries a glove off and holds out his hand. Virgil takes it and gives it a small shake.

“I’m Virgil, and this is OogieBoogie,” He introduces himself and his cat who has deigned to jump on the counter and sniff at the contraption on Logan’s back. He gently pushes the cat away with a soft look in his eyes.

“Pleasure to meet both of you. None for you I’m afraid,” He chides Oogie gently. Virgil swallows because damn, someone interacting gently with his cat more of a heart throb than originally intended. And Logan is nothing if not simply scholarly stunning.

“My apologies again, be sure to let someone know if there’s anything we can help you with. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” Logan nods his head softly and there is just the smallest crinkle around his eyes hidden under his glasses and Virgil is so weak as he closes the door to his apartment. He’s come into contact with one too many pretty people at this complex and it will be the death of him. Still, it is nice to wave to Logan every so often as he preens the landscaping around the buildings.

Virgil watches as water drips down the window. It started the other day after some rains. He put a towel under it to keep some of the water from ruining anything, but it’s still going the next day. Virgil sighs and looks at his phone, Thomas’s number on the screen. He takes a deep breath and presses call.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Thomas it’s Virgil, from Unit 16 B.” A practiced line. Thomas gives a happy gasp.

“Virgil how are you?” Thomas always sounds excited to speak to him. It helps.

“Doing okay, how are you?” He asks, absently petting Oogie’s back.

“Good good! How can I help you?” Thomas asks in turn. Virgil looks at the window.

“Something’s up with my window? It’s like.. leaking.” He explains but not really. Thomas hums.

“Did this start up with the rain?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried cleaning it with towels but it keeps going.” Virgil says. Thomas makes another hum noise.

“Sounds like a problem with the roof. I’ll send one of the boys over.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil isn’t as put off with the abrupt ending, expecting it this time around. He glares at the window and goes to wait for ‘one of the boys’. Oogie follows over and demands pets. It a decent distraction till a loud knock comes from the door.

Virgil opens it and it's just unbelievable how down right beautiful this guy is. His hair in perfect waves and a charming smile on his face. His sleeves are also cut like Remus's were, but far less frayed.

"Wonderful morning, my name is Roman. Our dear Mr. Sanders told me there were some ill issues with the roof is that right?" He speaks with such confident flamboyance Virgil is a loss for words.

"Yeah," Is all he manages to say. He's pretty. Way too pretty for this.

"Yeah, sorry it's over here," He turns and leaves the door open for Roman to follow. Roman laughs loud and proud and does just that. Virgil shows him the window and does not bit his lip as Roman jostles the frame showing off muscles that are illegal.

"The panes seems closed but I'll check outside as well." He turns and heads out the door. Virgil follows.

"And the roof?" He asks. Roman offers him a dashing smile, checking his tools that he attaches to his belt, holding up pristine white jeans.

"You may hear some noises for a while as I'm up there, but fear not, I'll find the problem." He gives Virgil a wink and with ease, he finds a ledge on the building and hoists himself up. Virgil does not squeak. Certainly not cause he's scared that Roman will fall, and certainly not cause he rolls his shoulders and Virgil can see his body move and god damn it he’s so not straight.

So he goes inside and pretends there’s not a real attractive guy fixing his roof. The noises of fixing continue for an hour or so, Virgil keeping busy with cleaning and some mild work emails. Then the noises stop. Virgil glances at his ceiling curiously.

"Uh, Roman?" He calls from his front door, making sure the dude didn't fall off and die.

"Be down in a moment fair tenant!" He hears. Virgil rolls his eyes and barely turns when Roman suddenly lands in front of him.

"Roof is all set. There were a few shingles out of-"

"Did you just jump off the roof?!" Virgil interrupts. Roman blinks at him and has the nerve to smiling so dashingly again.

"I dare say I did," he says as if it's no big deal. Virgil sputters at the reckless, careless, brash attitude. Roman is far too entertained by it.

"I'm honored by the concern, dearest. Just one more moment to check the window from the other side." He winks again and is walking around the building before Virgil can say anything.

He grabs Oogie and plants his face in her fur. Too gay to function. He talks to her plainly about how unfair it is that pretty boys plague his life, only to find out he can absolutely be heard through the window by Roman asking in a muffled voice.

"You think I'm pretty?" Virgil screams and hides in his room, hearing Roman laugh through the wall. This is how he dies, he decides. This is even worse than the time Damien had to tell him his lights weren’t broken, he just didn’t know how to use them. This is so much worse.

He groans loud and dramatically when there’s a knock on his front door. He doesn’t want to open it. But he does, cause it’s rude other wise.Roman stands there, smug expression and a bright smile.

“Checked everything and cleaned up some water. A few shingles out of place and a loose vent, got those all patched down. If it continues to leak it might be a bigger issue so be sure to call if it does. Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil takes a steady breath to say no.

“I think I’ve dug my own grave enough for today,” He says, further digging his own embarrassment grave. Roman gives another laugh.

“Enchanted to meet you pretty boy, have an amazing rest of your day.” And then Roman honest to goodness bows and drives off in the golf cart. Virgil closes his door softly and looks at Oogie who stares back from her perch on the counter.

“Don’t even start,” He tells the cat. She looks away like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Boogs! No!” Virgil does not like shouting at his cat. He doesn’t like shouting in general. But it gets OogieBoogieBitchBaby away from the wall she is using as a scratching post. She scampers off as he approaches, fingers going over the claw marks in the wall. He groans to himself.

He moved her cat tower because she kept getting onto his work papers. In revenge for disposing her from her favorite perch and sights of the room, she clawed at the wall instead, leaving a few nasty scratches behind.

“How am I supposed to fix this?” He asks where she’s run off, hearing her run around. He bangs his head on the wall. This is not how he wanted his night to go. In the end, he has Thomas’s number on his phone and piece of paper he tore to shreds in worry over what he could possibly say.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Sanders, it’s Virgil. I-”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas asks. Virgil takes a deep breath.

“I’m- I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders. It was an accident I swear.” He needs to apologize, cause if Mr. Sanders kicks him out, he’ll have to go hunting for places to live again, and who is going to take him with a cat who destroys things, and then because no one will take him, he’ll die on the streets and Oogie will eat his toes.

“My cat Oogie she got upset with me and she clawed the wall and I’m so sorry,” He says in a rush.

“Hey, hey Virgil it’s okay. It happens, our furry friends do funny things. I’ll send one of the boys over to help fix it right up, okay?” Virgil swallows a lump in his throat at Thomas’s easy solution.

“Okay,” He croaks out and then hears the click of someone hanging up. He lets his phone drop and then puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to be kicked out his apartment, or to have Mr. Sanders think bad of him as a tenant, or as a bad pet owner. He throws himself back on his couch. He feels so dumb.

Thankfully, there’s a gentle knock to his door. Hopefully his savior in this mess. He opens it to bubbly boy in round glasses, giving him the most cheerful smile Virgil’s ever seen.

“Hey there, evening to you, my name is Patton. Mr. Sanders said we have some kitty claws on the walls?” He asks. Virgil lets his shoulders drop.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about it.” He says Patton waves his hand.

“It’s not a cat-astrophe, it happens. Can you show me where it is?” He asks. Virgil nods and steps back to let the boy in white jeans in, then pauses.

“Did you just make a pun?” He deadpans. And Patton giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, just slipped out. I’m pawfully bad at them.” He says with a bright smile. Virgil stares at him, then snorts into his hand.

“That was really bad,” He says but Patton just beams at him.

“Got you to laugh though.” And Patton should not sound so proud of making a stranger laugh. Virgil coughs to cover his awkward and shows him where Oogie got to the wall and Patton ‘tuts’ in response, putting down a bag of tools on the floor.

“I have just the thing to get this back in purr-fect conditions.” Patton opens his bag and pulls out some paint and calking. Virgil steps back to let him do his job, very aware that Oogie is hiding somewhere away from him. It makes him nervous to not see his cat in the area. Sure Oogie isn’t a registered therapy animal, but she does a good job of keeping him calm.

“There, al-meow-st done!” Patton smiles at him over his shoulder and adds another coat of paint to the wall, looking good as new. Maybe it’s the puns or the cute, but Virgil does relax.

“Thanks for that.” Virgil says as Patton cleans up. He giggles once more and waves Virgil’s concern off again.

“It’s no big deal, it’s what we’re here for.” He reassures. Virgil sighs and turns to the small meow behind him. Oogie is on the table staring at him. Patton lets out a squeal of happiness.

“Oh she’s precious!” He says in syrupy sweet voice. Virgil snorts again and looks between the two.

“Wanna pet her?” He asks and before he finishes Patton is shaking his head.

“Un-fur-tunately I’m allergic. But she is paws-itively adorable.” Patton coos and waves to the cat, Oogie does nothing in return but that’s to be expected. Virgil rolls his eyes at the both of them.

“Thanks again for your help,” He says. Patton beams and there are freckles on his cheeks. Freckles, too cute, not allowed.

“Of course! Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil’s turn to shake his head.

“I think we’re good now,” He says. Patton giggles once more.

“Have a claw-some rest of your night,” And that shouldn’t be funny but Virgil snorts again and Patton is proudly walking off.

What the fuck, what the fuck. Virgil stares at the door knob in his hand. He just went for a late walk to get his mail, Oogie joining him on his shoulders. Something rattled in the door knob when he opened it, having to actually shove the door open to get back inside after unlocking it. When he went to close the door, the handle came off in his hand before he could close it proper.

What the fuck.

He stares at the space where the door knob was and his open door. His mind immediately races to all the creepy people who can break in and steal things or kidnap his cat. Or even all the bugs that will make home in his food and hair. Nope. None of that.

“Hey Mr Sanders?” Virgil says first, his anxiety over the open door he can not close for fear it won’t open again overriding his normal fear of calling his land lord.

“Virgil! How are you? It’s very late,” Thomas yawns on the other end. Virgil winces. He probably should have thought this through considering the time.

“I’m okay, so sorry to wake you, it’s just. My door handle uh, fell off?” There’s a pause.

“Well that’s not good.” Thomas says.

“I’ll send one of the boys over.” He hangs up plainly. Virgil has enough time to worry if he made Thomas upset by calling so late, and worry Oogie somehow got out only to find her cuddled in her tower, when the bad lights from the maintenance golf cart shine through the crack in the door.

There’s an awkward knock and Virgil pulls the door open. He’s not sure who in their right mind has sunglasses on this late, but at least this gorgeous person isn’t using them to hide their bright eyes. They give him a quirky smile.

“Well this isn’t something you see every day.” They remark and Virgil has to huff out a laugh, some of his panic subsiding.

“Evening babes, I’m Remy. What happened?” He asks and goes about unscrewing the rest of the door knob, kneeling down and scuffing his white jeans that nearly glow in the darkness. Virgil tells him the lead up and Remy scoffs out a laugh of their own, giving Virgil a glance, that turns into a once over, that shakes him to the core.

“No worries, I can see the broken piece. Easy fix.” He winks at Virgil and gets a spare doorknob from the golf cart. Virgil stand idly by as he fixes it, keeping Oogie from getting too close.

“Wassup cat?” Remy asks and gently puts his knuckles to her head in greeting. She makes a noise and then trots off, satisfied with the attention.

“What’s their name?” Remy asks while he screws things back together.

“That OogieBoogie, Oogie for short, though she’s been more of an OogieBoogieBastard lately.” She meows at Virgil from the top of her tower. He hisses back at her. Remy snorts.

“Nice, I have an orange cat named Pumpkin.”

“Nice,” Virgil says back. Remy smirks at his response and keeps working. Vigil pretends the look on Remy’s face didn’t give him reckless night vibes, that he would take Remy up on if he asked, cause damn, the dude’s hot.

“May I borrow your key for a second babes?” Remy twists the knob a few times and with Virgil’s borrowed key, closes, locks, and opens the door with no problems.

“All good to go, anything else I can help you with?” He asks as he hands back the key. Virgil shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks for that,” He says. Remy gives him a wink.

“Have a good night babes.” Another wicked smirk and Virgil does his best to close his door at a proper speed. His heart is pounding and these pretty boys will be the end of him.

“Hi! Welcome in, how can I help you?” Cute, is all Virgil can think when he enters the office. Pastel, is second. There’s a new receptionist at the desk, freckles and a mega-watt smile.

“Hi uh, I got a notification I have a package?” He stammers out. Oogie purrs at his shoulder, reminding him it’s okay.

“Sure! What apartment number?” Virgil rattles off his numbers as the receptionist looks in the package closet.

“For Virgil?” They ask. He nods and takes his box, keeping it away from Oogie as it’s a surprise for her birthday.

“Oh! I’m Emile by the way. I’m working in the office now so if you need anything just give us a call okay?” They’re so earnest. Virgil ends up just nodding his head, only speaking when Oogie bumps her head to his.

“Yeah, thanks,” He says and before he can make an exit Thomas appears from inside one of the offices.

“I thought I head you! Virgil, how are you?” He asks. Virgil gives him a soft smile.

“Good, and you?” It’s only polite. Thomas lets out a laugh.

“Good here too. Say, the staff is hosting a tenant party here, some games and some food, you should join us if you’re not busy.” Thomas hands Virgil a flyer with some gaudy colors. Virgil does a good job of not letting his dislike of the idea show.

“You should totally come!” Emile beams at him and it does something gay to Virgil’s heart. Virgil glances at the two of them smiling at him.

“I could stop by?” He offers not waiting to make them mad at him. They cheer and turn back to their jobs. Virgil walks back to his apartment, petting Oogie as he does.

“What did I just get myself into?” He asks her. She bumps her head to his hand in response.

It’s not a bad turnout for an apartment complex party. Virgil does show up, Oogie situated on his shoulders. Even though its closer to summer, He’s still wearing his hoodie if not just to give her a place to put her paws should she wish to.

There’s those plastic cheap tables lining around the pool area, boxes of pizza and some crinkly plastic containers of mini sub sandwiches sit on top. There’s a section for drinks and cups right next to. Virgil gets himself a cup of lemonade.

He glances about. Some people are playing some bean bag toss game, others are playing on the mini putt putt area Virgil didn’t even know they had. Lots of people are in the pool, messing around and splashing water at each other. He sticks to the sidelines.

“Virgil!” Or maybe not. He looks to who called his name and though he’s happy Logan called for him so he doesn’t have to be alone, he’s lamenting the fact that not only is it Logan, he’s also with Patton, Damien, and Remy. Fuck. Virgil goes bug eyed, giving himself a pep talk, helped along by Oogie making a ‘mrrp’ noise in his ear, and walks to his doom.

“Hey Logan,” Virgil says once he’s close. Patton waves as best he can with hands full of pizza.

“Sup babes?” Remy asks with damn smirk, sunglasses appropriate now. Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Damien, if you don’t remember,” Damien holds out his hand. Virgil of course remembers embarrassing himself in front of freaking sleek attractive Damien, but he isn't about to say that. Virgil takes his hand to shake and Damien flips it to bring a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s jaw drops as Patton giggles helplessly.

“Dee don’t do that!” He says but there’s not force behind it. Damien just smiles like the cat that got the cream.

“I didn’t know you two were familiar?” Damien turns the attention to Logan now. Logan just pushes up his glasses.

“I admit to helping Virgil carry in groceries more than once.” Logan says, giving Damien a look that Virgil doesn’t have the power to decipher. Patton whines.

“Kiddo you could have asked for more help,” He says. Virgil shrugs.

“Two trips are for the weak.” He and Remy tap their glasses together in a cheers.

“Yes and I’m sure dropping your groceries is also for the weak.” Logan chides and it does hit a little harder, but still Virgil taps his glass to Remy’s again in a cheers.

“Virgil!” Someone calls and Virgil is blinded by the force of Emile’s smile so suddenly in his face.

“You came!” He’s excited. Virgil nods and takes a step back. Oogie murmurs upset on his shoulder.

“Yep, I said I would and hey, free food.” He ignores the looks the others give each other and Emile just bounces.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. Me and Patton were gunna play corn-hole later, you should join us!” Patton gives an equally excited gasp as Emile gestures to the bean bag toss.

“Uh sure,” Virgil says. Emile bounces and waves, and is off to say hi to other residents as soon as he came. Virgil is reeling from the interaction and it only gets worse.

“Is that pretty boy??” Virgil hears the splash before he sees anyone but then Remus is there in his face, shirtless and in swim trunks and dear god, he has a tramp stamp.

“Hello again stranger~” He coos. Virgil musters up a hi when suddenly another shirtless person is standing next to Remus.

“It is pretty boy! How are you darling?” Roman says. Virgil has officially hit gay panic mode. If the earlier mix of suave and cute wasn’t enough to do him in, the pure amount of muscle now is going to do him in.

“Fine,” He chokes out. Remus and Roman both laugh at his answer. Great. If he hoped for any kind of saving from the others, it’s surely a dashed hope by the amused looks on their faces.

“Are you joining us in the pool?” Remus asks excited. Oogie hisses from his shoulders. Vigil raises a hand to calm her and she nuzzles his knuckles.

“Uh not today.” He says, which is the wrong thing to say.

“But another day?” Remus asks all wild excited. Roman shoves him.

“Like he wants to spend time with your gross ass!” Roman shouts playfully. Patton huffs and calls him for his language but he is ignored. Remus gasps offended with a wild smirk on his face.

“Sure he does, can’t keep his eyes off these guns,” And Remus flexes. Virgil smacks a hand to his face. Oogie dips to hide in his hood. Roman lets out a laugh and firmly shoves Remus back into the pool.

“The only gun he needs is a glock to the face.” Roman puts a fist in his hand, flexing as well. The pun does get Patton to giggle though and Damien rolls his eyes.

“Virgil I am going to get some food, would you like to accompany me?” Logan asks finally done with the nonsense.

“How do you know his name!?” Roman screeches.

“I asked.” Roman let's out an outright offended gasp for whatever reason. He doesn’t get to say another word as Remus from out of no where, runs and tackles Roman back into the pool with no such boundaries.

“Food sounds good,” Virgil says. Logan smiles softly at him.

“I think I shall join you,” Damien says looking into his cup which doesn’t look empty but who is Virgil to judge.

“Come find me and Emile when you’re done okay?” Patton interjects before they can leave. Virgil offers him a two finger salute, and then leaves Patton and Remy to go find Emile, while he finds food.

“Idiots,” Logan mutters once they are away from the pool. Damien hums in thought.

“But not wrong,” He says.

“They aren’t right either.” Logan snaps back.

“Should I go?” Virgil asks as they are clearly not talking to him. Both Damien and Logan look at him scandalized.

“Certainly not!” Damien says and gives him a slick smile. Virgil swallows down his lemonade to keep his throat from clogging up. He spends some time talking to the two of them, making sarcastic comments and opening up. Oogie pops out to lick his hair at one point.

At that, Virgil finds Emile somewhere, letting them know he’ll be right back, wanting to drop Oogie off at home. He’s comfortable enough here to not need her reassurances, besides, she’s tired from napping and needs to go home to sleep. With some ‘hurry back’ wishes, he’s off back to his place.

He makes sure Oogie is comfy and goes to leave, finding Thomas waiting in one of the golf carts outside his door.

“Need a ride?” He offers. Virgil laughs and joins him in the small vehicle.

“Virgil if I may, I have a favor to ask of you?” Thomas says seriously. Virgil nods his head as his lungs refuse to let him breathe for fear of the favor.

“Please be kind to my grand kids yeah?” Thomas asks, an earnest look in his eyes. Virgil isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but then he looks up. All of the boys who have been coming in and out of his life to fix his home are there staring and waiting for him to get back with the same look in their eyes.

Oh. Virgil thinks.

Oh no.

AN: Lol that multiship life

Edit: now with a part 2

4K notes · View notes

ninyard · 3 years

Note

Heeey what do you think was that made Kevin finally leave the nest?

I wrote like a 2k word fic-of-an-answer to this one my friend but I wasn’t vibing with it! So I’m starting again. But same thing as the last draft of this answer; I think about Kevin leaving the nest ALL THE TIME

(“Keep mouthing off like a pair of fucking frogs.” Riko spat in English to them both. When Jean shut the door, “Do you think you’re better than I am?”

“Your ego will kill you someday.” He looked Riko in the eye. “I think you care too much about other people’s success to make yourself look better. You’re building your Court,” Kevin swallowed hard, still trying to hold his head up, gravity failing him as he started to tremble. “But you think it’s just guaranteed you’ll be on it.”)

Mandatory CW for The Breaking Of A Hand and Kevin Has Nothing To Live For. See also: the foxes are foxes and their lives are Fucked Up (suicide mention, overdose mention, panic attacks & drug use)

Okay.

Let’s. Talk. About. Kevin.

Idk if I’m allowed to say that Kevin is an underrated character. I really don’t think I am. But if I was allowed to say that I WOULD. I am so very passionate about Kevin I would absolutely die for him and he’s not even real. So let’s talk about his hand.

Can you even begin to imagine what was going through Kevin’s head that night? It looked like practice, then The Master talking about potential, then Riko is mad, then pain and blood and how do I get out of here? Then is it worth it if my life is over?

I think there probably was a minute where Kevin sat alone, covered in his own blood, just thinking there was no point in being alive anymore. His playing hand didn’t really look like a hand anymore, his life and reputation and everything he had worked for just pumping out of his hand and staining his shirt. He didn’t remember passing out but when he came to Riko was gone, and his body was running on fumes trying to keep the pain from overwhelming his system. He probably threw up, all over the locker room, his blood trickling through the tiles, the echo of his own screams ringing through his ears like a non-stop siren. He probably couldn’t really see properly for a little bit and he probably couldn’t move for a while, either. Riko was a foot shorter than him, but he made up for that difference by channeling every ounce of anger and jealousy he felt for Kevin into his feet to stomp the shit out of Kevin’s hand until he knew he would never play again. Jean found Kevin not long later, maybe a couple minutes, or an hour. Kevin begged him to get Riko out of his room. Jean wrapped Kevin’s hand up as best he could, and promised him to deal with it as long as Kevin was there when he got back. Jean had figured he was a flight risk, and knew if Kevin left, Riko’s French personal punching bag would come in handy to take out all his egotistical frustration on. Kevin promised he’d be there when Jean came back. Jean came back to his jacket and wallet missing, a tiny scrap of paper left on the bed, an almost illegible ‘sorry’ scrawled across it. He burned it in the bathroom sink before Riko could find it.

So Kevin’s in his car, and he’s driving. He doesn’t know where yet, and man, is he a hazard. Twice on his journey he nearly knocked out behind the wheel, his head bobbing as the pain begged his body to sleep. He probably had to pull over a couple times to be sick, or to have a panic attack, or both. I know he went through the stages of grief on that drive to Virginia. He probably turned on his radio at some point and laughed, how ridiculous he looked, how dangerous it was to be driving one handed. It took him double the amount of time it would normally have because he just. Had to keep stopping. There’s no way he made that journey in a solid drive.

But also I think he probably didn’t have a plan before he was driving. He knew the Southeastern district were holding the Christmas banquet that night, but that was a secondary thought. His first worry was getting out of the nest. His second worry was whether he was going to kill himself or not. The reason he didn’t just do it? David. The thing that pulled Kevin back off that metaphorical ledge was Coach David Wymack. The only other people who knew about his moms letter were Tetsuji, Jean and Riko. Kevin knew well that none of them would be calling up to break the news to Wymack if he died, and David would grow old and die without ever having known that Kevin Day was his son. David was the reason he was risking everything on busy streets and highways and whatever roads he drove too fast or too slow on.

So, he’s in Virginia without a plan. He doesn’t know what hotel David’s in, if he’s even still in Virginia, if the foxes even bothered to show up. So he looks at as many hotels as he could find. He narrows down the list by looking at the ones he knew the Class I teams frequented, and he called the all pretending to be David, looking for his rooms number. After the fifth call he found it.

Think about Kevin’s anxiety in the elevator, hand throbbing, not profusely bleeding anymore, but every minute that passes is a percentage off the chances he has at keeping his hand and playing again. His heart is racing, his head heavy, every fibre in his being screaming.

David calls out a “Hold your fucking horses, give me a minute!” when Kevin knocks on his door a second time after his first knock received no answer. David opens the door with Abby just behind him, and his face falls so quickly it could’ve hit the floor.

“Kevin.” He looks him up and down, not yet noticing the t-shirt covered in blood he had wrapped around his hand. “Kevin Day. Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby pushes past him to unwrap Kevin’s hand. It must be some nurses instinct, to be instantly drawn to looking for an injury on a person. Kevin pulled it back as gently as he could, looking up and down the hall before asking so quietly it almost couldn’t be heard. “Can I come in?”

David makes small talk with Kevin as he shuts the hotel door behind him. What would he say? What could he possibly say to superstar Kevin Day, who he’d only officially met as a baby, when his mother was alive and he wasn’t destined for Court? He probably tried to make meaningless, awkward small talk until Abby shut him up to ask Kevin what happened. He just started to cry. Small whimpers into chesty, heaving, heavy cries, his body teetering on the edge of a panic attack. David had seen his foxes in bad ways before. He’d seen one of his kids convulsing on a stretcher after an accidental overdose, or a fox who’d choked on their own vomit after an intentional one. He’d seen his foxes in their worst moments, panic attacks and withdrawals, anger and sadness, pulling their hair out and on the brink of death. Something about this was the same but different. When Seth first overdosed on the team it was a cry for help, or when Janie admitted herself to the psych ward for a week, it was because she wanted to try. When Damien asked for a second, and third, and fourth chance David gave it to him because that was what Foxes deserved. It took him a moment of watching Kevin heave, snot and spit running down his chin, his hair falling over his face, his body shaking with anxiety, to remember that Kevin wasn’t a fox. Kevin was a Raven, and by god, that was so much worse.

I think we all know that Abby cares for her foxes like she’s their mother, but Kevin is just different. Abby had been seeing David long enough to know how much Kayleigh Day had really meant to him, and how much it hurt to watch Kevin do her proud. Now Kevin was sitting in front of her, his hand practically lifeless, his heart pouring out of every place it could. She tried not to look at David’s face as he paced the room, watching her patch up Kevin’s hand as best she could. Kevin only started to calm down when she handed him a bottle of Diazepam and some water.

And then Kevin whispers that Riko did it. David almost didn’t hear him. He nearly asked for him to repeat it until it hit him. Riko did it. Riko smashed the hand of his number two so badly it would take a long time for him to play again, if he even wanted to. Abby sent him a deathly glare when he mumbled to himself; “I’ll kill that little jumped up piece of shit”.

The rest is history; Kevin passes out not long after, David carries him to the bus, and they drive to the stadium to pick up the foxes. Kevin sleeps the rest of the way until the sun is starting to rise and they’re back in South Carolina. Kevin doesn’t stop crying on and off again for a couple days, and Abby had to hold him back from escaping more than once. After watching his anxiety consume him, and when he told her none of the Ravens were allowed to be medicated in any manner, she got him a script for some quick-acting anxiety meds for him to keep. It took him a week of energy-sapping panic attacks before she could convince him to actually take them as he needed them.

David took out a loan five days after Kevin had arrived into his care. He called Edgar Allan on the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth day. By the ninth day Kevin was released from the grips of Ravens. By the tenth day they had started the process of making Kevin Day a fox. I suppose it’s for the best Riko fucked up his hand so badly, isn’t it? At least it gave him the ability to fit into the eligibility criteria for being a Fox. Welcome to the club, Kevin Day, and prepare to be gravely disappointed.

#KEVIN DAYYYYYYY #mY boy #rambles #Kevin day #David wymack #tfc #aftg #Riko Moriyama #all for the game #the foxhole court

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

Bully! Park Jimin- I’m Your Devil (DIRRRRTTYY)

So...I got a new computer and I have no clue how to screenshot on it as of now...and tbh I don’t feel like figuring out how. SO I’m gonna be experimenting with some layouts but until then you just have these annoying announcements.

Anyways, ANON ASKS 🧑🏿‍🎤 🧑🏿‍🎤 🧑🏿‍🎤 (you know who you are wink wink)

may I request a really aggressive schoolbully!jimin / sadistic!jimin smut inspired by the songs daddy issues, into it, and the hills :)

Y’all some masochists but I ain’t mad.

Just know ya worth and if anyone treats you like this in real life, punch them in the balls. That being said, This is also LOOOONG. I didn’t plan for it to be but yeah. ALSO I GOT YOUR OTHER ASK SO I GOT CHU. I’m not sure if this is good but I hope I did you justice.

Reader who isn’t a virgin, really mean bully man, more foreplay than actual smut lol sorry, touch of diet-angst

Leggo.

...

“Okay class, what do you think the author was trying to say when she was describing her relationship with Damien?”

You sat at your desk, chin propped up in your hand as you gazed off longingly into space. This was one of the rare times you decided to pay attention because your class was reading your favorite book. “The Young Devil” (Completely made up lol).

“She’s obviously a broken woman if she thinks Damien is ever gonna change his ways. She’s a stiff.” a comment made you practically fall forward. You turned your head to find the culprit of who said such a thing about your favorite character. “Anyways, she’s too safe. She couldn’t handle his issues.”

“Well maybe if Damien made an effort to open himself up, Belle wouldn’t have to pry so hard.” another girl rolled her eyes. “Men always think women can’t handle what they throw when in reality we take the heat for your dumb asses.”

“Interesting conversation. Y/N, what do you think?” the teacher took note that you were paying more attention and turned her sights on you. “What do you think about the dynamic between Damien and Belle?”

You cursed yourself for looking too interested. You hated speaking. “I...Um.” you opened your mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. “I think Damien’s refusal to allow Belle to see the other side of him not only puts their mental connection at risk, but physical as well.” you replied.

“What do you mean physical?” she egged you on to elaborate. “As in sex?”

“W-well, yes and no.” you shrugged. “Belle prides herself on building connection through touch. She can’t have sex with Damien because she doesn’t feel loved by him. To him sex is just a thing you do. He gets his pleasure from bullying her, that’s his high.” you explained. “She claims she doesn’t care but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t spend her time wishing he was different...or something.” you played with your hands, staring down at your fingers.

The teacher stared at you before a smile broke out on her face. “Excellent analysis, Y/N!” she clapped her hands together. You returned the smile with the tiny bit of confidence that built up inside you. “Yes, Jimin did you have something you wanted to add?”

You turned your head to find the always mouthy Park Jimin lazily raising his hand. “She likes being bullied by him.” he said as if it was a matter of fact.

“Excuse you?” you couldn’t help but speak out. Suddenly the entire class was quiet. They had never heard you speak so abruptly before. “What the hell do you mean she likes it.”

“She wouldn’t put up with it if she didn’t like it.” he raised an eyebrow. “She could just tell him to leave her alone, get lost or something.”

“How in the hell would Belle enjoy someone like Damien embarrassing her every minute he gets. Are we reading the same book?” you sat up straight crossing your arms.

“Now this is getting interesting.” the teacher mumbled.

“You can tell by her actions. The rush of her blood when she blushes, the way she stammers over her words, the way she listens to his every word...much like you are right now, princess.” he winked. His smug grin alone made your blood boil.

“Oh and I suppose his possessive ways are warranted in your eyes too aren’t they.” you scoffed.

“Maybe, I mean she even says herself she feels cared about.” he shrugged.

“Because Damien is a manipulative dickhead!” you snapped. “He obviously wants her around because she’s the only girl who gives a shit about his life and he’d feel lost without her.” you snarled. “Then again I would expect this point of view from a man who changes bitches like he changes his underwear.” (A/N we don’t hate women here).

“Language Miss. L/N.” the teacher spoke. You rolled your eyes, glaring at Jimin one last time before facing forward. The whole class was silent.

“Nice one Y/N” a girl on your opposite side nudges you.

“Not bad for a quiet girl.” a boy piped up.

...

As classes were let out for the day you wordlessly avoided the looks you got from your other classmates. You walked down the halls, holding your books tightly to your chest.

“Oi, Hey L/N!”

You weren’t sure if the sound of Jimin’s voice made you wanna speed up or slow down. It didn’t matter because he went as far as to run and stop right in front of you.

“Um..What?” you looked up at him.

“Oh, not excited to see me?” he scoffed with a sadistic smile. You didn’t know what he was planning but you didn’t like it. “Way to try and debate me in class today, who knew you had a mouth on you.”

“I was just answering the teachers question..I don’t want any trouble..” you clutched your books even tighter. Before he could reply a girl ran up, practically attaching herself to him.

“JIMMY YOU HAVE DANCE PRACTICE!” she practically screeched. “Why are you talking to her?”

“Oh...Y/N here was-” he paused. “Just confessing her undying love for me!”

“What! No I wasn’t!” you tried to deny, but it was too late. Everyone who was around heard him. “I don’t have a crush on you!” You felt your face heart up.

“Oh Y/N, You don’t have to hide it! Why else would you speak to me passionately in class today.” his sick grin never left his face. You could tell this was his revenge for embarrassing him in class. “You were telling me all about how you couldn’t sleep another night without telling me. How you want me in more ways than one.”

He spoke loud enough so others could hear.

“That’s not true!” you snapped. You were trembling. Humiliation filled your body and was overflowing, much like the tears of embarrassment you couldn’t fight anymore. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to hide it anymore. I know everything. The love letters, the staring-”

“What?!”

But it was too late, people were already giggling and staring at you with pity. You took one last look at Jimin, who was already walking away, gleefully accepting the high fives from the pigs who dared to say ‘Nice score.’

“Are you alright, Y/N?’ a girl came up to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Should we go to the headmaster?”

You didn’t answer, you just ran. You ran out the school, unknowingly into the pouring rain. It seemed the sky matched your mood today. You let out all the tears, not caring who saw or who looked at you as if you had lost your mind. Your house was far, but you didn’t care about that either. In that moment you felt as helpless as the character you loved dearly, Belle.

...

You ignored everyone the next day, even your small group of lunch buddies. You worked alone, you sat alone at lunch, and by the time free period had rolled around, you had opted to hide. However, just as you prepared yourself to leave, who else but Jimin to stopped you in the middle of the halls.

“Well if it isn’t my little admirer!” Jimin spoke loud enough to capture the attention of those around you. He ‘accidentally’ slapped your books out of your hands. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N...Go ahead, pick those up.”

Without another word you knelt down, only to have him kick one of your books to the side. “What’s this! A diary!”

A brown and black leather bound hardcover book sat at his feet. You instantly scrambled to get it, but he had managed to get his hands on it. “Isn’t this interesting!”

“Jimin please don’t-!” you stood up, forgetting about your textbooks.

“Dear friend,-” he cleared his throat dramatically as he flipped through the pages of your diary.

Dear journal,

My life is nothing like stories I read about all the time. Each and every night I’d wish for my handsome devil to come. Come and take me away from here, away from the hate, away from the commotion, away from Park fucking Jimin. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him hate me the way he does. I just wish he’d be nice to me...just once. But that is one wish I know won’t come true. He’s just a sadistic asshole who bullies me because he knows I won’t say a word.

So why do i-

You snatched the book out of his hands before he could read any more, this time you were seething with rage. “If you EVER touch my property again I will- I’ll-”

“You’ll do what princess?” he smiled cheekily. “You won’t do a thing to me and we both know it...you’re just like that Belle chick. That handsome devil of yours is just a fever dream, get over it-.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather live in a dream than talk to Satan himself.” you snapped. “You’re just the devil.” you whimpered. “Why do I even put up with you?” you sighed. Jimin suddenly stepped forward. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

You felt his lips touch the side of your mouth, had you moved just a bit more, he would have been on your lips. “Because you love me.”

....

“For this project, I will be assigning you partners

Oh shit...please no. God, no. Dear lord if anyone can hear-

“Alex and Jackson. Lisa and Mark, Y/N and Jimin-”

“Fuck.” you mouthed. You dared looked next to you. Jimin was playfully leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. He winked at you, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You will be doing book reports on The Young Devil. You choose the topic, this is due in two weeks. I recommend you get together outside of school.”

As class let out, Jimin followed you. “Sooo, partner! When am I coming over?”

“When pigs fly.” you answered sourly.

“Saturday at 7:00 you said? I’ll be there!” he threw an arm around your waist. “See you there, babe.”

“You don’t even know my address!” you called after him as he walked off. That probably wasn’t the best idea because everyone was staring at you again. “NO! BECAUSE WE HAVE A PROJECT....Nevermind.” you groaned.

... (Saturday 7:30 PM)

“You’re late.” you seethed as you pulled open the door. Jimin sauntered in and you slammed the door.

Soon it was silent between you two. Before he could open his mouth, you left him standing there to bolt up the stairs. Jimin, being himself followed you. To be honest, you were already starting without him.

“Do you live alone?” he asked, noticing how empty your home was.

“I do.” you replied curtly. “My parents travel around a lot, so I never see them.” you shrugged. “They help me out though.”

“So mommy and daddy take care of everything-”

“You don’t know me.” you cut him off. You sat down at your desk and pulled up your notes, proceeding to work. “They help me because they care...unlike some people.” you scoffed. “Shut up so I can concentrate.”

“I thought this was a partner thing.” you heard your bed creak. “I think we should put out minds...maybe bodies together and think of a concept.”

“I already have one.” you cut him off.

“Enlighten me.”

“If Damien hadn’t changed by the end of the book, would Belle still be with him.” you mused aloud.

“Probably.”

“....” you didn’t reply, because you didn’t want to admit he was right. Probably the only time you’d ever agree with him on anything.

“What? Still mad at me for reading your little diary?” he asked. Once again, you ignored him. Suddenly, your chair was turned around abruptly and you were now staring at a red faced Jimin. “I don’t like being ignored, doll.”

He was so close, your noses were practically touching. You froze up, afraid to move.

“Why are you so mean?” you found yourself asking. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Other than refuse to drop that good girl act of yours? We’re a dysfunctional two peas in a pod. I’m an asshole and you’re too much of a stiff to stop me.”

“Act?” you looked confused. “I don’t have an act.” you attempted to defend yourself.

“Hm...that face you make is kind of hot.” he smirked. He slid his fingertips under your chin. Your vision went blurry, unable to process everything. You absent-mindedly began playing with the hem of your sweater.

(SMUT AHEAD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

“What is your deal!?” you found yourself getting angry as you stood up. Jimin stepped back looking startled. “You’re messing with my fucking head and I’ve had enough! Jimin what did I ever do to you?” you felt it again. Humiliation. “I’m not asking you to be my friend but the least you could do is be nice to me!”

“I don’t do nice, sweetheart. Like you said, I’m the devil.” he walked up to you. “Your blush is like a drug to me.” he laughed. “It’s cute.” he rested his hands on either side of your face. “Fuck, I kinda wanna kiss you right now. Do you wanna kiss me?”

YES!

“Yes, I mean no! I mean yes- I mean maybe, I mean fuck!”

Not even a second later, Jimin’s lips were over yours. Despite his bullying, his kiss was gentle. You practically melted. He protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your thoughts on the project were long gone. Jimin couldn’t figure out why he felt so protective of you all of a sudden, but thoughts ran through his head. Thoughts that if anyone else kissed you, touched, you even looked your way...he’d go ballistic.

And fuck, you were a great kisser. He held the back of your head with his free hand, guiding you into his touch, which you followed perfectly. His tongue slid through the gap in your mouth, yearning to taste you more. You felt lightheaded as if your heart was about to give out. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Maybe I’m so cruel because I don’t know how to act around you.” he whispered. “Maybe I’m trying to be the devil you want so bad.” you could see a flash of sadness in his eyes, which was quickly replaced with lust. “I wanna be your devil, Y/N...”

He kissed you again, this time his warm hands slithered under your clothes. You were by no means a virgin, but the way you felt made you feel shy and exposed. Jimin walked you back towards your bed and practically threw you on the plush surface while he rid himself of his shirt. Your bodies practically melted together, bodies meeting in a sweaty mass of limbs that explored one another.

Be fumbled with your pants, almost tearing them off you. He gave you a sadistic smile before ghosting his lips over both your thighs. Your legs shook, trying to keep them steady.

“Have you ever...done anything with anyone?” he asked.

“Once, but nothing special.” you admitted. “It was straight to the point.” you shrugged.

“Then I guess I have nothing to compete against.” he bit his lips. “You smell so good here.” he shuddered. “I wanna-”

He yanked down your panties next. His lips ghosted over your slit, pressing feather light kisses against you.

You held your breath, unable to register what was going on. His fingers met your clit, sliding his fingers through your slickness. Before you could say another word, Jimin licked a stripe up your slit. You bucked your hips, only to be held down. He sucked harshly at your clit before playing with your little bud with his tongue.

“F-fuh-” you couldn’t even muster up the words as Jimin played with you.

“Fuck Y/N.” he groaned. You felt his fingers slid inside of you, coating his fingers in your water. “I don’t know what’s hotter, the look on your face or the way your-”

“D-don’t say it!” you cut him off. “I’m warning you!”

“What?” you could just see she shit-eating grin on his face. “You mean pussy? The way this pussy takes my fingers so well?” (Now from the top, make it drop- I’ll shut up)

He abruptly removed his fingers which made your back arch and lurch upwards. You sat up on his elbows only to witness Jimin rid himself on his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened when you saw his hardness. You couldn’t look away.

“See something you like?” his voice made you snap out of it. He bit his lip with a grin. He grabbed your legs and aligned himself with you, teasing the hell out of your entrance, just barely touching you with his length. “Am I your devil, Y/N?”

“God, yes.” you couldn’t fight it anymore.

Slowly, he slid in, groaning at the feel of you around his dick. “Shit Y/N...How the hell am I gonna move when you’re so t-tight. I won’t last 10 seconds.” he whimpered. He slowly thrust again, your juices creating a deep echo in the room. “Hah...Ungh...f-fu” he planted his hands on the bed, one either side of your head. “Y/N...You don’t know what you do to me.”

“J-jimin.” you mirrored his voice, wrapping your arms around his neck. “P-please?”

That was all the motivation he needed to start moving.

Your moans and yells echoes through the room, the clapping sound of flesh hitting flesh bounced off the walls. Sweat kept your bodies practically glues together. His fingers moved everywhere. Grabbing your sweater that for some reason was still on, grabbing your legs to pull you back into him. Your face to move your hair out of the way so he could witness the euphoria written shamelessly on your face. His jaw went slack and he felt himself getting to that part, and he could tell you were close too.

You were first, practically convulsing under him, screams of his name escaping your lungs.

“ARGH, FUCK!” He followed suit and immediately removed himself from you, only to spray himself...all over your sweater and legs. He felt forward, practically shaking against you. He messily kissed you, not bothering to think about neatness as his tongue invaded your mouth for the umpteenth time.

“Mind if I crash here tonight?” he laughed as he plopped next to you.

“Sure.” you breathlessly replied. “Project can wait till tomorrow.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Jimin shimmied out of bed and walked over to the open window. He felt the breeze on his skin and closed his eyes. “Please.” He whispered. “I want to treat her well...don’t let me fuck it up.” He silently wished before joining you in bed again, protectively wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N...I’m your devil....”

...

Cheesy ending I know but what did ya think?!

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

A Free Man

A/N: Those that Lovelink know Damien Jones or his counter Austin. I was thinking about doing a Damien FF and after yesterday’s date I definitely needed to do it! Thanks to @khoicesbyk for the idea and giving me the push to write this. MC is named after her MC in the app. Normally I have to write SMUT after a few drinks haha. It’s pure smut with a little fluff I hope you like it!

A/N 2: Re-uploading because Tumblr is a b***h and took it down, I’m uploading again. Tumblr you need to take a closer look at some of the stuff on here that REALLY violates the community guidelines. #justsaying

Find my other Lovelink FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots. Along with my Rory Bear & Shopping Trip (Rory O’Brien), My Science Buff & The Naughty Teacher (Marco Bottazzi), Photogenic (Dominic Wright) & Tattoo Artist to Businessman (Blake Bailey) FF.

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 1757

WARNINGS: ⚠️ NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Damien x MC - Kara

Enjoy!

I'm standing in the prison car park just staring at the door, I look down at my watch 10.37 AM. 7 minutes late what if something has happened? I pull out my phone and load up Lovelink.

*Damien last active 8.09 AM*

Then I hear the creaky iron door open. I look up there he! My Damien a free man!

He looks around then spots me, the brightest smile appears on his face as he starts sprinting towards me.

My eyes well up, his arms wrap around me, he lifts my feet off the ground and spins me round "KARA!"

He pepper kisses all over my face before his lips crash against mine, his tongue invades my mouth "God, it feels so good to be able to do that without worrying about a guard catching us or counting the minutes until our time is up! That's all thanks to you Kara. Most people wouldn't have stuck by me like you have" he lands soft kiss against my lips.

"Damien, guess what?"

"What?"

"You are finally a free man!"

He grins, "Come on, I need to refuel, then burn some energy," he puts me down and gives me a look that warns me that we need to leave now before he takes me right here.

"Let's get you home!"

We get into the car, "I never thought I'd see the back of that place"

He's looking out the window, staring. I reach over, take his hand in mine "Your future starts today"

He kisses my knuckles "Our future! Kara you are my future"

My cheeks burn "What do you want to eat?"

"Besides you? Something greasy, a burger oh, and fries and a chocolate milkshake"

I laugh "OK, I think there's a diner just down here"

We pull in and head inside, we order Damien leans over the table and takes my hands "You have no idea how much I've missed touching you"

I bite my lip, he gaze makes me squeeze my legs together "Oh, I think I do!"

"2 Cheeseburgers with fries, 1 chocolate shake and 1 strawberry shake!" the waitress puts the food down in front of us.

He face lights up "Thanks," he says as she leaves us to it.

He takes his first bite "Oh..My..GOD" he says between chews.

I can't help smiling at him "Kara, are you sure you don't mind me staying with you?"

"Hey! Now you are out I don't want to spend a minute away from you!"

He chuckles "Good because I wouldn't want to be anywhere else"

~*~*~*~

We pull to my apartment building "Home sweet home" I tell him.

He looks up at the building "Nice area so much nicer than where I've lived before" he smiles at me.

"Come on, let's get you inside" we head up, he's close behind me.

I open the door and before it slams shut his lips are on mine like I'm the air he needs to survive. His hands roam my body desperately, his lips move to my pulse line, I push off his jacket needing fewer clothes between us.

His hands slide under my thighs before he lifts me up, I wrap my legs around his waist. He moves us across the room our lips not leaving each others, he lowers me onto the kitchen counter pulls back just a little to look at me as his hand glides up my leg and under my dress "Damien?"

He smiles "I can't believe this is real," I blush, he reaches his goal, he pulls my underwear to the side. The pads of his fingers brush against my core making me shiver "God, Damien!" I see him grinning as he's standing in front of me.

I pull his t-shirt over his head, run my hand down his chest and abs.

"Oh!!" his fingers dip between my folds and play against my clit, I reach for his belt and unbuckle it. I slip my hand beneath his jeans, I can feel his hard shaft trying to break free, he groans.

I pull him back to me, kissing and nipping his neck "Kara....fuck" I dip my hand under the waistband of his boxer, grasp him and start working up and down. His head collapses against my shoulder, both trying to catch our breath as we match each other's rhythm.

"Damien....I..." I don't need to finish my sentence he pulls down my underwear and removes his "Wait, there's some condoms in my bag" he reaches behind me and grabs one.

"How long you had these in there?" He smirks.

"Before my first lesson at the prison, but we never got a chance to use them" I wink.

"I'll make it up to you now" He rolls it over his hard member.

His lips smash against mine as he pushes pass my entrance filling me. I wrap around him adjusting to his size, his pace is slow to start with "Harder Damien" a growl catches in his throat.

He draws out all the way to the tip before he thrusts harder all the way to the base, each thrust is more powerful than the last.

I dig my nails into his back, and he hisses "Ohhh...baby!"

He reaches between where our bodies meet and works against my clit "Fuck...." I feel him grin against my lips.

His pace speeds up I grip his shoulders anchoring myself, I can't hold back anymore, I clench around him as I fall over the edge "Damien YES!"

"God Kara! Shit" I feel his body jerk as he hits his own peak.

Both panting, he places a soft kiss on my lips "Wow that was..."

He lift me up of the counter "I'm no way through with you yet!" he takes us over to the couch.

"Damien!" I giggle.

~*~*~*~

"No!! I didn't do it! NO!!" I stir the room still dark, I turn on the lamp"No! It wasn't me!! Kara Please!!" I hear Damien scream I turn over, he still asleep, he must be dreaming.

I touch his face and whisper "Damien, hey, it's ok! Wake up" I stroke his face, he's sweating.

He begins to stir gasping for breath, after a moment he realizes where he is "Hey, did you have a bad dream?" He nods "Aww baby! What was it about?" He casts his eyes away from mine "Hey, you can tell me"

"I...I was arrested. One of Bennie's goons set me up, Kara, I was so scared. The worst part was you actually believed I did it!"

I turn him to face me "Hey, I would never do that because I know you aren't capable of that. It was just a bad dream"

He looks at me with sad eyes, "I know but it felt so real"

I place my finger to his lips shushing him "You know what's real? Me here with you" I place his hand on my chest.

His face starts to soften, his hand come up and hook under my chin he pulls my lips towards his, I rest my hands against his peeks.

He stops "Kara, I love you"

I smile, "I love you more"

He laughs before claiming my lips with his. The kiss starts of soft before becoming more intense, his tongue swirls with mine.

I pull away "Let me show you how real this is" I place little kisses down his neck, chest, he groans. I brush over his boxers to find him ready for me, I hook my fingers under the band of his boxers freeing him.

I grip around the base before circling his tip against my tongue "FUCK, KARA!" he groans.

I take him fully in my mouth working up and down his hard shaft. His hand clutches my hair moving me to his rhythm "Crap...baby....that feels" each time I draw back I lightly graze my teeth against him making him buck his hips up.

I pull him out "Feel real enough for you?" before he can answer I work my mouth along him again.

"Fuck...yes" he arches off the bed.

He pulls me up towards his lips, so I'm straddling him, I reach over to the bedside table and grab the foil packet. He pulls away takes the packet out of my hand rips it open between his teeth in one swift moment he slides it on.

His hard member runs along my apex before entering me making me cry out "Oh!" he moves slow stretching my walls, he pulls me back to his lips as his hips thrust up against mine.

I sit up a little and move my hips with his"Kara..you feel so..ride me baby" as he thrust his hips up and plunge mine down causes him to go deeper.

"Damien, just like that..oh" I press my hands against his chest.

"Baby...that's it ride me harder...fuck" I speed up my rhythm his hands clutch my hips moving me to his beat.

He sits up grasping my hair capturing my lips with his. His kiss is rough, his hips thrust up harder and faster. His arms wrap around me, pressing me tighter against him.

"Come for me Kara! I know you're holding back!" he thrusts up harder, pushing me towards the edge a few more thrusts "Yes Damien YES!" this send towards his own climax "Kara!!" he collapses backwards on the bed with me against his chest, both trying to catch our breath.

~*~*~*~

The next morning I left Damien in bed sleeping while I jumped in the shower, behind me, I hear the door open.

I feel his presence behind me, his hand moves the hair away from my neck, and he begins to kiss against my pulse line, his other hand cups my breast.

"Morning" He whispers, I turn in his arms and gently kiss his lips as his hand dips between my legs and brushes against my centre.

I moan against his lips, he lifts me up and press me against the glass. We get lost in each others embrace.

Later I'm just about to I head over to my dresser as I look up at the mirror my heart melts. In red lip stick, there's a love heart with a message that reads.

Kara, Will you be my girlfriend? D x

"You found it, then?" I hear him call over from the doorway "So, what's your answer?"

I run over to him, crash my lips to his. He pulls away slightly "Is that a yes?"

I nod

"Well, that causes for a celebration" he walks us backwards until we fall onto the bed.

"I love you Damien"

"Guess what...I love you more Kara!"

#lovelink #ludia lovelink #lovelink smut #lovelink fanfic #damien jones #damien x mc #damien smut #ludia

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

My Mothers Recipe Book

You see your bosses true colours and quit.

Masterlist

warnings:swearing

A/n: so here is my next Bruce Wayne one shot hope you like it xxx

Taglist: @125bluemachine125

My Mothers Recipe Book

Alfred sighed walking into the master bedroom tray carrying two large coffees and a few sheets of paper printed from the computer. He was not looking forward to this. Not one bit he had managed to keep the boys quiet about it for the time being but now was the time, there had been...articles online from uncredited news outlets which he knew both you and Bruce avoided with a passion things could be said online which couldn't be printed, cruel and vicious things. But this time they had slipped up big time and he had a name. There had been personal things mentioned in these articles, things that only someone close to you would know at first this online tabloids scoop had been harmless or coincidence, stating the area where you grew up, school you went to and your previous apartment then it became more personal silly things at first, favorite brands, hangouts previous jobs and qualifications and where you work now that caused a few problems now you had to be picked up after shifts by either him Bruce or Dick. you'd mentioned that it had become worse somehow they knew where you were most of the time when you were out on your own places become overrun with the paparazzi having to be picked up by Dick from your favorite take away joint a few days ago when out of nowhere there was camera's everywhere then the next day horrid articles over your nonexistent weight gain and the 'cravings' for the pregnancy that also didn't exist. But this....this was worse probably the worst article to come out, it was an article on how your parents died and how you took on Jack... Going in to detail on how you 'blamed superman' for their death, which could blow up in everyone's face. Alfred was livid but vindicated this time their source was named accidentally he had managed to print it off before it was corrected, a statement was already being circulated that this was fake news, you did not blame anyone for the death of your parents and this was the doing of a vicious woman trying to cause you trouble. Thankfully Clark had got wind of it and was already working on something to help. But Alfred will not be settled until everything was cleared up in the courts. Sighing he opened the door to the master bedroom you was curled up in bed tears streaking your face Bruce was trying to comfort you but Alfred could tell he was furious.

"I suppose you have seen it? then I am already on it I've taken the liberty to have a statement sent out that you don't blame anyone for their passing, Mr Kent is also already working on something to show the truth." Bruce nodded stiffly you just sniffed rubbing your eyes making Alfred gripped the tray tighter this was not going to be easy to say.

"Who? WHO WOULD DO THIS?" you threw the tablet down on the bed Bruce tried to calm you down

"We will find out who sweets I promise-" Alfred crossed the room placing the tray down then lifted the paper

"It was your boss Y/n" you and Bruce snapped your gazes to the Englishman

"What- How do you know?"

“She was named as their source then it quickly changed I managed to print it off before it was changed tho...I have been watching these articles, Damien and Jack found them just after your kidnapping at first it was harmless but then it got more and more personal here see for your self this is the first one they put up before they corrected it" you took the paper from him with a shaky hand glaring there in black and white was your bosses name as there close source.

"Why would she do this? you know what don't answer that I'm going to work" you strode past the two men Bruce followed you over to the dresser.

"Sweets we can handle this-" you turned abruptly to him making him flinch when he saw your face you was seething

"I know that I'm going in to talk just talk and there is something there that I need t pick up before anything happens nothing more I promise"

"I can come with you-"

"Bruce honey you have to be at the tower today I will be fine....okay I will be calm but shes done a lot of damage here, I'm getting death threats on twitter! she doesn't get to breeze through this no fucking way shes going to look me in the eye and tell me why!" Bruce nodded knowing that you wasn't going to let this go.

"Alfred can take you....take Tim just in case" you nodded pulling your pajama top off ignoring the way Alfred shielded his eyes with the article just in time making Bruce scoff

"Tim why whats he gonna do?....oh yeah I forgot" you quickly slipped on a black pair of leggings and oversized sweater and left the room calling for Tim to get his ass out of bed.

"I will look after her sir and I will have eyes on the whole thing" Bruce nodded"Thank you Alfred I know you will take care of us you always have" Alfred smiled at him leaving the room with your coffee taking to the kitchen. twenty minuets after Bruce left you was in the back of the rolls Royce sitting wound up Damien was as stiff as a board next to you Jack had tagged along to looking just as angry fists clenched, Tim was supposed to come but once Damien heard what had happens he had....insisted Tim tried to reason with him but...apparently when it come down to it Damien is the one in the family not to fuck with as Tim had backed down pretty fast and by pretty fast you meant as soon as he looked into the younger boys eyes.

"Boys please relax your making me nervous, we are just going to talk I want answers"

"That’s such a bitch thing to do tho, to bring mom and dad into it..." you looked to jack he was as sad as he was angry it made you worse...you were out for blood today no one fucks with your family. Damien was worrying you, he was quiet calm and you could feel waves of....well you didn't know what it was but it was making you want to run ad hide from him yourself, killer instinct or just pure unadulterated wrath and violence coiled tight in the small teen your blood would have run cold if you hadn't been so angry yourself.

"Dami? you alright there bud?" he turned stiffly his eyes said it all he was not alright he was pissed biting at the bit to fuck this woman up. Shit. you didn't have all the details but you know Damien was raised to be , well putting it bluntly a killer and from little bite you heard he was pretty good at it.

"I'm fine, this woman how long have you worked for her?"

"Shit its gotta be five years nearly six" Damien nodded then looked back out of the window you was here her car was out the front. you took a deep breath seeing the barrage cameras out the front all of them held one of the cafes takeaway cups in hand.

"Would you like me to pull around the side?"

"No I am not afraid, I wont let her see me run its time to grow up...If I want to be with Bruce this is what it means,I have to let them know me and I will stand on my own two feet" Alfred faltered stopping the car you cleared your face and before the butler had a chance to get out to open the door you were out of the car Damien and Jack close behind the Alfred who tried pushing to catch up as the paps smothered you. You bit your lip moving forward willing them all away as it got to much then Damien locked his hand in yours squeezing Jack held your arm, you locked eyes with them and smiled you wasn't alone. With a deep breath you turned around abruptly holding your head high and spoke clearly to the manic reporters who was shouting questions waving and yelling to get your attention.

"EXCUSE ME! that's better I apologize for shouting like that, I just wanted to get your attention, I promise to answer all your questions in a few moments but I've left something important at work and would appreciate you allowing me to pick it up first if that's okay with you" You felt a burst of confidence when you managed to get their attention quieting them one man scoffed

"What are you going to get?"

"My mothers recipe book" they all looked stumped a ripple of whispers surrounded you all

"How do we know you'll come back out?" you blinked looking at the other man who had asked and then nodded to the car

"My rides out here I wont be getting far without it" they all quieted down nodding letting you pass. Alfred stood a little stumped the confidence you had used he hadn't seen before he quickly jogged to catch up behind you entering the cafe. as you made your way in you headed straight for the kitchen Alfred lingered by the door making sure the small hidden camera in his jacket had a clear shot of what was going to happen in the small kitchen. as you walked in you noted that your boss was milling about the kitchen you smiled like nothing was wrong and walked over to where your mothers hand written recipe book was and tucked it into your bag .

"Y/n where are you going with that?" you faced her smiling

"Oh Damien likes the blue berry marzipan muffins so going to try and convert it into pancakes that way Alfred technically whine about muffins for breakfast." you said motioning to Damien who looked at you confused but nodded anyway you winked at him, then handed your bag to Jack who was standing behind Alfred.

"Ooh they would be good tell me how they turn out and we could do them here" you laughed a little at the woman, she had no idea

"I might just do that, tag you in twitter or face book...Bruce was talking about me getting my own shop around here after I made some at home" she looked at you from the top of her eyes

"Oh really?" you laughed and leaned forward

"Yeah but you know me no head for business...but I have got a head for other things you know I'm an overthinker its quite good actually I can figure things out pretty quick" sensing something was wrong she gulped and stopped doing the order forms leaning on the counter

"Is everything okay?" you moved a little and leaned back crossing your arms letting you smile fall into what must have been a nasty face as she swallowed

"I don't know how about you tell me" she laughed nervously trying to wave you off

"What do you mean whats happ-"

"Why did you do it?"

"Excuse me?"

"How much did they pay you? I hope it was a lot." you said looking around the kitchen slowly as if really seeing it for the first time, falling apart tiles, a tap that leaks, flickering light and dirty grout could do with being ripped out and starting again.

"Do what?"

"You know what? that articles online I know it was you" she laughed shaking her head

"I haven't done any articles I think your getting a little big headed aren't you? not everyone cares about you, " you nodded slyly

"They didn't tell you did they? you were named yesterday in the one about my Parents" the color drained from her face and she stuttered.

"Wh-what?! they said they wouldn't do that!" you stood tall smirking at her the smug feeling didn't last long as you realized this woman who had been like a second mum to you had betrayed you, literally put a price tag on your trust and sold it.

"So you have been giving out information about me...gossiping about me to the tabloids..Why Why would you do that?" she had the decency to look a little ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry, they offered money for an interview when I was seen at the Restaurant with you...At first it was harmless and I thought I could ramp up business if I let people know where you worked...it escalated from there" you closed your eyes trying to calm yourself down Damien growled loud at the woman but you placed a hand on his shoulder pushing him back a little.

"Escalated your damn right it escalated You gave out my old address! what if me and Jack was still there and better yet why was you telling them where I was? they followed me for days! and rumors of pregnancies?" She flinched going to walk around the center island in the kitchen making to hug you but you took a step back, eyes searching hers for remorse but all you saw was the panic of a woman caught out.

"Do you know I had to talk Bruce down from that one he wasn't even angry that he was the last to know! he was over the moon that we might have a child on the way and I had to break his heart and sit him down in our room and explain to him I wasn't pregnant that it was a lie! only to find out it had come from one of my closest friend's. Do you know what its like to do something like that to someone you love? to upset them like that he was crushed ...And if that wasn't enough you had to bring up my parents! you didn't even know them and you know how I feel about the whole thing and about superman!" she shook her head

"I know you don't blame him for their death, I never said you did I swear I just said that you still found it hard without them here, that you wished they were here to see jack grow up that's all I swear" you shook your head.

"I'm sorry but I don't believe you...these five years how much was it worth? you put a price on my trust..." she ran a hand threw her hair huffing anxiously

"I'm sorry I never meant for it to go this far...I needed the money" you laughed "You needed the money nearly eleven hundred a day goes in that till and you needed the money? sorry if I don't buy that." she got defensive looking you up and down

"Well its not like you would understand" you shook your head

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well we can’t all be sugar babies like you? I've got bills to pay you know rent , tax water that kind of stuff you going to tell me if someone wanted a few comments from you for a few thousands dollars you wouldn't do it" you clenched your jaw, Damien growled at the woman trying so hard not to pounce her.

"No I wouldn't have because we were friends!....Is that what you think of me? a sugar baby?"

"Well that seems to be your claim to fame doesn't it? fucking a billionaire then suddenly you've been given everything? the poor orphan girl who heroically took on her brat brother, one night on your back and your set for life. House,money boyfriend rewards for loosing your dignity no class at all!" you froze that hurt, the venom and spite in her words

"No class...It would seem I have more then you. I haven't ever done anything to you, so all this came from what jealousy? having the paparazzi follow me spreading rumors? for what a few more coffee sales and a bit of revenge? because I got everything you'll never have, A Family and someone to share my life with.... That’s very sad" you moved to got to the door she smiled nastily no point in her continuing with the nice girl act now she had shown her true colors. "you know your not famous? walking around like you are but your not" you smiled widely at her leaning in.

"No I'm not truly famous...but I'm more famous then you, I quit by the way and I do hope you have money for a lawyer because this is slander and invasion of privacy"

"You've got no proof it was me." she said snidely

"Oh but I have, a recorded confession smile your on camera" she froze knowing she was utterly fucked you smiled and leaned in to her ear.

"I am going to sit back and watch you fall, you tired to destroy me and my new life and failed but most of all you hurt the ones I love so now I am going to destroy yours, I’m going to take you to the cleaners, your going to lose everything" she gasped no one fucked with your family she hurt you but more importantly she hurt Jack and Bruce and she was gonna have to have deep pockets to settle this one cos you was out for blood. You did one final sweep of the kitchen wanting to rub salt in the wound.

"You know...I always liked this place...Think I will buy it once you go bankrupt after our court battle" she stood there mouth agape as you turned walking through the door. Jack and Alfred was let you pass then quicker than you could register you heard a loud shout turning you saw her charge at you making to attack you but Damien was to quick for her capturing her throwing her back you winced hearing her back hit the metal counter in the kitchen

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY MOTHER!" you all froze as he shouted not knowing what to do Alfred nodded his head in Damien direction.Get him out. you placed a hand on his shoulder he panted shaking he was angry very angry then looked at you

"Dami, thank you but we have to go now okay? come on Dami go to the car for me please"

"Are you hurt Ummi?" you shook your head not understand what he called you, or why Alfred had gasped so loud at it but didn't care all you wanted was to calm him down and get him out of here.

"No honey you stopped her before she could get to me"

"A-are you mad?" you smiled at him shaking your head again

"Of course not, you protected me just like you said you would now come on out to the car that's enough excitement for one day"and you looked at Alfred he knew what you was asking and nodded he had caught that on film thank fuck.

"She isn't your mother you little brat!" you somehow managed to pull Damien from the kitchen behind you.

"Shut your fucking mouth!!" you you shouted at her livid ushered the others out taking a few breaths as you walked out into the crowd.

"Boys in the car, Jack you got my bag still?" he nodded but Damien was quiet as you pushed him thought the crowd stopping half way taking a deep breath this had to be done, you had to get used to the public side, dick had said something the other day making you stop and think, if you don't interact with these people then you cant ever prove them wrong, you wont be able to ever stand up for yourself and that's what you had to do.You cant let Bruce do this for you all the time, not anymore.

"I'm going to make a statement are you all ready?" most nodded getting cameras ready for pictures and holding out recorders.

"I'm am sure you have all been listening and reading to recent rumors circulating about me in recent weeks. I have been following these myself tho had to be discreet about it, you see these rumors have been started by someone I was close to and I wanted to try and find out who, this is why I have been quiet about it.Last night there was a typo in the article about my parents passing nameing and shameing this woman,she has been handing out details of my personal life, selling my information and been telling lies one of which cause heartache for both myself and my family and has caused many problems for me in the past weeks telling online papers and paparazzi my location anytime she knew. this is a woman who I considered a dear friend and who I have worked for for the past five nearly six years I came here today to confront her, she has admitted to me today about her behavior and revealed to me and my family today that it was done out of spite and jealousy and also thought she would make more money if customers knew I worked here and would come in to try and get a glimpse of Bruce in the cafe. Today I quit my job here and over the next few days will take action threw the courts. I don't not blame anyone for the death of my parents at all, they heard the threat the world was given just like the rest of us but still chose to got to metropolis for their anniversary, they ignored the warnings and paid for it with there lives they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. And no I am not and have not ever been pregnant, this particular lie of hers caused myself and Bruce a lot of heartache which I can not forgive her for, The address she gave out as my residence is not my home any longer I moved nearly six weeks ago so please stop going there I'm assuming the new tenants would like a rest, I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to end these things but I just wanted to clear the air and explain to you exactly what was happening" there was a few chuckles echoing across the crowd person shouted out

"So do you Hate superman or not?" you laughed

"No of course I don't, he has done a lot for us even saved myself once a long time ago and I am forever great full to him for that, I am only sad that he has been dragged into this woman's lies and I can only apologize for that I'm sure he has more important things to worry about.Now if that's all I'd like to get going...Its a bit chilly out here and I'm sure the boys are getting board in the car." you turned and headed to the car and amazingly enough they let you, opting to take photos of the cafe you smiled smugly as Alfred pulled away speaking

"Well she wanted fame now she has it" Jack laughed

"Yes something like that....was that alright? I've not done it before on my own...Oh my god what if Bruce is mad? do you think he will be mad I did that? What if I said to much or not enough or-"

"It was perfect miss Y/n you explained yourself with dignity and respect, you were straight to the point and covered everything Bruce wont be mad if anything I think he will be extremely proud of you for handling it the way you did." you sighed and slumped

"Oh thank god all I was thinking was 'be like Bruce, be like Clark, be like Bruce, be like Clark" Alfred through his head back a little laughing and Damian shuffled closer looking down fiddling with his fingers

"You okay there Dami?" you watched Alfred tilt the rear view mirror

"I-I'm sorry I called you mother...and Ummi it wont happen again" you sighed dragging him towards you.

"Hey,Look Damien Your father and I are really serious you know that right?" he nodded slowly waiting for you to rant at him.

"And Because we are serious ...we have already spoke about you boys and this...Mother issue, I would be delighted if you called me mother or mom or u-ummi? but you don't have to...But if you do then I would be so happy, so so happy. But as far as I'm concerned we are a family already either way so you call me what you like okay? and that goes for your brothers to." you watched as Damian's face lit up he looked so young.

"R-Really you don't mind?" you shook your head pulling him in for a hug. Once you all got home you moved everyone into the kitchen and started mixing batter for muffins using your mothers cook book

"Are you really going to make me some blueberry and marzipan muffins?" you nodded to Damian

"Absolutely you liked em right?" he smiled nodding sitting at the counter watching you and Alfred zigzag across the kitchen like a well oiled machine the boys including Tim and Jason sat watching nibbling on the left over marzipan.

"Tim flick threw that book and find coffee walnut muffins" you called out as you placed the current batch of muffins in the oven Tim was quick to take the book from the side and look for the recipe.

"Coffee walnut? that's different for a muffin?" Alfred asked you smiled nodding

"Yep when mum found a flavor combo she liked we had all sorts of it thought Tim would like it... that book there is every Cooke family recipe its why I had to get it quick before all this kicked off" Jason peeked over Tim's shoulder.

"All that fuss for a book?" Jack smiled slyly

"Yeah but more then that...everything in the cafe was mum’s recipes, all the baking anyway without that book they don't have nothing they never made copies, can't make nothing that's why when we took it she asked for it back, she probably hasn't even realized yet. My sister is a bitch never ever piss her off y/n has destroyed her business with out lifting a finger!" they all gasped then laughed loud.

"Holy shit! you go girl!" Jason high fived you making you giggle

"I see now why dad calls you mama bear your scary" you frowned

"He still calls me that?" they all nodded humming you blushed you didn't know that, you looked up as Bruce came through the door dropping his coat on the floor pushing past everyone you frowned thinking something was wrong until he swooped you up into a long kiss pressing you against the counter making you moan the boys cringed and left the kitchen fast.

"EWW THEIR GONNA DO IT NEAR THE MUFFINS!!" you laughed pulling away

"And what was that for Mr Wayne?" Alfred cleared his throat moving to mix the new batter

"Saw the footage then sir? I told you to wait until later to view it we all know you cant help yourself when she gets... what was it again Mama bear?" you whined throwing a tea towel at Alfred making him smirk

"Yes Alfred I did and I'm afraid I'm going to steal her away its urgent" he said a smile in his voice you sighed

"Urgent huh?" he smiled hoisting you up onto his hips making you gasp feeling him grind his erection onto your core

"Oh yes very urgent, urgent enough in fact that I had to cancel the rest of my meetings and probably have a few speeding tickets in the post" you laughed loud at him

"Oh my god!" he quickly spun around making his way to the stairs

"FOR FUCK SAKE PICK A ROOM AND FUCK!!! STOP WANDERING AROUND!!JACK TELL YOUR SISTER"

"FUCK OFF TELLING MY SISTER YOU TELL YOU DAD HE'S THE ONE RUNNING IN WITH A BONER TIM!"

"STOP FUCKING YELLING!!" you rolled your eyes as they continued shouting and screaming at one another.

"You gonna parent them or no?" Bruce shook his head wincing as Jason screeched indicating that someone had hit/pushed/jumped on him

"A little preoccupied Sweets maybe after I've sorted you out....Besides Alfred wont let them kill each other" you laughed as he made it to the top of the stairs and rounded the corner hearing Tim's scream of

"FINALLY OI! THEIR OUT THE KITCHEN QUICK!" and multiple footsteps running back to the kitchen where the baking was happening .

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #batman x y/n #batman x reader #batman imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc imagine

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darkarfs · 3 years

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the worst movie tie-ins in the history of wrestling

Wrestling is stupid, and will show its ass at the mere mention of cross-promotion, especially when it comes to movies, which is it's cooler older brother that can get away with a lot more. Hell, the 2nd ever SummerSlam's main event, in 1989, was Hulk Hogan facing the main villain, Tiny Lister as Zeus (RIP), from the film they were both in, No Holds Barred. So wrestling's always wanted a piece of that. So... - Army of the Dead Let's just get this one out of the way. Here's the thing; I thought the WrestleMania Backlash's card was fucking perfect...except for this weird business. WMB MIGHT've been the best show of the pandemic (hot take) were it not for making sure we sell Big Dave's big zombie heist movie. If they had just kept some of the guys in zombie makeup on the Thunderdome's webcam footage, that would have been borderline charming. But instead, the Miz (who was WWE champion 3 months ago, don't forget) and Damien Priest (who they're making WWE's pop-culture liaison so far on the main roster, for some reason) had to sell for zombies in a lumberjack match. If this was the first ever wrestling show you watched with a loved one who had never watched wrestling or hadn't since like, the end of the Attitude Era, would you for a second want them to stick around after Miz and Morrison get, for all intents and purposes, kayfabe killed and eaten, and then watch Damien Priest shoot the logo at the ceiling? My money's on "no." - Shaft Speaking of the Attitude Era, anytime someone tells you that wrestling was cooler in that 3-year time frame, point them to the June 15th of 2000 episode of SmackDown, where a storyline that ran throughout the show followed Patterson and Briscoe through New York City to find Crash Holly and his Hardcore Title. Now, I admit parts of this are kinda funny, like Briscoe just wanting to give up and find a "gen-yoo-WINE New York hot dawg!" That's fun! And who does Crash Holly run into but none other than Shaft, and his woman, the only one who understands this complicated man, John Shaft. So, we have real Samuel L. Jackson, playing fake John Shaft, talking to real/fictional Crash Holly, and man is it weird. Anyway, Shaft agrees to be Crash's bodyguard for the night, and he slaps around Patterson and Briscoe in a nightclub. After all, what better way to get across how cool and badass a character is than having him knock around the fucking Stooges? - The Wrestler Well, this is complicated. The Wrestler, starring ancient wooden lion Mickey Rourke, is a somber tale about an industry that, in its heyday, left people physically spent, washed-up and addicted to adrenaline at best, and dead at worst. It famously moved Roddy Piper to tears because he recognized what destruction and brokenness the industry once left in its wake. Which is why it's super-weird that WWE jumped at the chance to promote maybe the bleakest possible look at their world in 2009, and did so by having Chris Jericho smack the shit out of three old wrestlers at WrestleMania 25, including Roddy Piper. And then have Rourke jump into the ring, wearing his "do you want to take peyote in the desert?" starter kit and bring out his amateur boxing chops. Tonally, it's just really bleak. Like if the creator of Super Size Me screened the premiere at the world's biggest McDonald's. - Bride of Chucky Poor Rick Steiner. You didn't deserve this. You're the sane Steiner. They shouldn't have made you talk to the puppet. So, WCW was heading into Halloween Havoc 1998, and after years of stomping all over the WWF in the ratings, the wheels had come off, and dramatically. Like, all at once. Like the car in the Blues Brothers. To boost PPV buys, they spent a fortune bringing in the Ultimate Warrior to rekindle a feud with Hulk Hogan, mostly by hiding in his fucking mirror. And the Steiner Brothers, one of the best teams of the early 90s, had been feuding with one another since Scott turned on his at SuperBrawl. What was the best way to build hype around this match at Halloween Havoc? Why, to have Rick get into a war of words - and lose - to Chucky. Yes.

Serial killer doll voiced by Brad Dourif, and it's so sad. Chucky cusses Rick out while Rick challenges the fucking doll to a fight, which is promptly ignored (Chucky's video segment is pre-recorded, and you can tell because he starts talking about 3 times in 3 minutes while Rick's mid-promo and missing his cues to stop) and then is made fun of. And all the while, people were probably wondering "what's going on on Vince's show?" and the answer is...that was the episode of Raw where Austin fills Vince's Corvette with cement, which is slightly more badass than being teased by a puppet. - The Goods Here's the thing: Raw is, right now, a bad show. It is bad TV. It's been bad for a while now. And as bad as it is right now, it's still not as fuck-awful as it was in 2009, aka the Age of the Guest Hosts (which, in kayfabe, was given to us by Donald J. Trump, so blame that ambulatory Nazi scrotum for one more thing, he's certainly earned it). For those of you fortunate enough to not be watching what was objectively unwatchable at the time - and hell, I sure as shit wasn't checking in very often - from mid-2009 to around mid-2010, a celebrity would be the special guest host of Monday Night Raw, often to promote a TV show or movie, and it was nearly all horribly-written, cheesy wank. Imagine if every week was the week of the zombie attack at Backlash. That's what it was like. Bob Barker was funny. The Muppets were good. And THAT'S the end of the list. MacGruber coming out to blow up R-Truth made me want to fall on a knife. The A-Team coming out to beat up Virgil was fucking awful. Go straight to fucking HELL, the Three Stooges, Dennis Miller, the reverend Al Sharpton, the 2010 Pittsburgh Steelers, Don Johnson and Jon Heder, the poor entire cast of Hot Tub Time Machine...and then there's Piven. Jeremy Piven. He showed up with Ken Jeong to promote a movie no one remembers...called the Goods. He stunk up several segments, infamously called SummerSlam "the Summer Fest" and then got roughed up by John Cena. Wrestling's the worst. Stop watching. And many did. For a looooooong time. - Robocop 2 This one's infamous, so I'll keep it brief. Robocop 2 came out in 1990, and goddamn, I don't know how much money the producers threw at WCW, but it was enough for them to rebrand an entire PPV "Capitol Combat: the Return of Robocop" and marketed the entire thing around the fancy metallic gentleman. The branding really made it seem like Robert Cop was old friends with the promotion, and indeed, old friends with Sting. Makes sense; two big, heroic idiots running on BASIC. He had been feuding with the Four Horsemen, who locked him in a cage at ringside. Out comes Robocop, called completely straight by Jim Ross, who rips the cage door off his hinges, and then leaves. An accumulated 85 seconds of screen time. Totally worth being the centerpiece of this PPV! But a little context as to why WCW fans hated it so much: 1989, the year before, was regarded by WCW fans as one of the best in company history. The era that gave us stuff like Chi-Town Rumble and the still-very-much-lauded peak of the Steamboat/Flair feud. To go from that to Robocop was seen as a bit of a slap in the face, because WCW was always seen as the more traditional "wrasslin'" company and was never into cheesy pop-culture crossovers, which is why the last one...is all the funnier.

- Ready To Rumble First of all, those dumbasses at Turner had to give Michael Buffer - who they still had on retainer - around $350,000 just to use that title, because he owns the trademark to that phrase. Strike 127 million, capitalism, that a guy gets to own a phrase and gets paid an obscene amount when he or anyone else uses it. Secondly, I initially wasn't going to do movies where the promotion itself is producing the movie, or oh holy HELL would See No Evil and the infamous May 19 shit be on here. But unlike See No Evil, this had a hand in killing a decades-old wrestling promotion, so it feels weird to not include it. On April 7th, 2000, bad movie Ready To Rumble was released, a film about two hapless dorks trying to help Oilver Platt, aka the lawyer from the West Wing, become WCW World Heavyweight Champion. Two weeks later, to promote the movie, they made David Arquette, the lead actor in the movie, the WCW World Heavyweight Champion. He pinned Eric Bischoff, who wasn't the champion, of course, in a match where he was teamed with Diamond Dallas Page, his best pal and the company's top babyface at the time, but who is also one of the villains in the film to make it extra confusing for the mainstream casual audience the movie was made to attract. And, to be fair, Arquette didn't want to do it, NO ONE really wanted to do it, and it tanked viewership for WCW once and for all. At the very least, David took his payday from the wrestling appearances and the film and gave it to the families of Owen Hart, Brian Pillman and to Darren Drozdov, who had been paralyzed from the neck down in a wrestling match the previous year.

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

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Dilliam - A Battle of Rank

Today I learned about the Purple Heart! It’s absolutely perfect for Damien given everything he’s gone through! According to research I did on the USO, the Purple Heart was originally called the Badge of Military Merit. It wasn’t actually in use in the era I set WKM, but hey, Mark’s manor had a high-tech security camera among other things, so let’s blame broken time!

Unfortunately, not-writing has taken over my brain. BUT! I've had this saved so I can gradually work on something absolutely kinda-angsty-but-adorable that you inspired. Hopefully it’ll work for you!!

For context, in the War/Role Reversal AU, Damien lost most of his left leg while in the war. This goes a little into detail of his struggle with a prosthetic leg, but I’m not entirely sure what the tag would be for a trigger warning. If anyone knows it (or anything else I might have missed), please let me know! I’ve used a read-more just in case.

(also, I need to give this AU a proper tag for easier searching. Whoops)

Word count: 1,293

There was no denying the closeness between a Colonel and one of the soldiers that had been under his command during the war. When he discovered Damien was alive, but badly injured, William decided to dedicate as much time as he could to help Damien adjust to his new life. Whether it be emotional support to help him through the grief of losing a leg, or physical support (being a physical crutch or carrying him), William tried his hardest to be there. That didn't change when Damien finally could get a prosthetic a year later and relearned how to walk with it. William stayed loyal no matter what.

The general in the barracks noted this behaviour. William was always an eccentric, but helping another soldier seemed to give him grounding and a focus. Who knows how he might have handled the impact of civilian life if left drifting alone. Though it was not a normal situation… Colonel Barnum was never one to do things the "normal" way. Perhaps General McRoy noticed the loyalty of old friends twinned with the guilt of not being able to do enough to help. Perhaps he noticed the love that William was struggling to keep a secret. Either way, he said nothing and allowed his subordinate more flexibility with his duties.

Which was how Damien was being escorted back to City Hall by William after an official visit to a local school to talk about the purple medal he had received during the war. The pair took advantage of the pleasant weather and opted to walk the short distance back instead of taking the official vehicle as they had earlier. It allowed the two friends to chat about small nothings and their friends.

"- so then Mark kicked up quite the fuss after the ball splashed in the swimming pool. I don't think I've seen him have such a temper tantrum over golf since - Damien?" William cut himself off mid-sentence as he turned his head to notice Damien wasn't there.

"I'm alright, keep going." Damien tried to insist with a wave of his free hand. William could see how Damien struggled to walk, how he was leaning heavily on the ornate cane, how exhausted he looked. The Mayor gave a heavy sigh as William marched over. "Colonel, please. You don't need to-"

"You can't keep pushing yourself if you're tired, Damien. I'm going to help you back to the office, and then you're going to rest. Colonel’s orders." He looped Damien's right arm over his shoulder to provide further support as they hobbled toward City Hall.

"Fine, you can help, but I hope you realise how humiliating this is," scowled Damien. The sour tone was noticed, but ignored by William.

"We're nearly there," William instead replied, nodding toward the building as he tried to lift the mood for the final stretch.

William stepped out of the office to fetch Damien a cup of water. When he returned, he was greeted with the sight of Damien back at his desk, busy at work. The glass was slammed down on the desk with such intensity that it made Damien jump.

"Is this what you call 'resting'?"

"I'm sitting, just like you said. What more do you want?" Damien reached to the left to grab a page that had fluttered off when he jumped, to no avail. William had snatched it up, forcing him to stay in the conversation.

"I left you on that couch for a reason, Damien. You were supposed to be putting your leg up to let it rest. I trusted you to be able to follow that simple order!" William pointed to the couch in question. His snapping didn't deter Damien.

"Did you forget I can't lounge around during work hours? If my legs hurt, they hurt. I'm an elected official. I'm supposed to be working to help the people. That's why I ran for election-"

"- and that's why you went to war!" William cut him off. "Always thinking about others and never considering the consequences to yourself! Tossing away pieces of yourself until there's nothing left, is that what you call serving others? Are you content with destroying yourself for the sake of others, Private?!"

“For God’s sake, William, we aren’t in war anymore! You aren’t my superior that I have to obey every little order from. We’re both civilians, and I’m now higher ranked than you!”

"Don't you talk to your commanding officer like that!"

"Don't you talk to your Mayor like that!!"

Damien slamming his hands on the desk cut the argument short. Both men were on their feet, glaring at one another. Damien's hands were flat on the desk to keep himself balanced, but it did little to stop his vision doubling and his head briefly drooping. It was only for an instant, but it was enough for him to feel firm hands on his shoulders, gently easing him back into his seat. The chair was turned so William could kneel down and look him in the eye.

"I've told you a dozen times not to stand up so fast. You get dizzy far too easily," tutted William, placing a hand on Damien's forehead to make sure nothing else was awry.

"I'm sorry," Damien mumbled, "I know you mean well. It's so frustrating knowing I'm so… Helpless. Everything tires me out faster, simple things are such a struggle. It's been - what, four years? - since I lost my leg and it's still like I'm back in 1919 in that blasted rehabilitation centre trying to balance all over again." As he blurted out his frustrations, William rubbed circles into the back of Damien's hand with his thumb. "What happened - what we helped do - I wouldn't change my outcome for the world but… God, I just wish I didn't keep falling back when I think I've made progress." William sighed softly in sympathy. He had received a rather nasty gunshot wound in his shoulder that sometimes acted up, but it rarely hindered him. Damien couldn't go a day without being reminded of his leg.

"Don't start that nonsense, Private. You've come on in leaps and bounds. Your stamina is much better, your gait is steady and even. What happened today is one tiny stumble on the long road of recovery. Just stop, look back, and see how far you’ve come.” William seemed so sure of his words, until he noticed the way Damien’s face scrunched up. “... What?”

“Everything you just said used walking metaphors. That’s the opposite of reassuring.”

“Oh, uh, shit, I… Fuck, sorry.” A nervous chuckle escaped the Colonel. “You’re doing great, Damien. You know you’re the smarter one out of the two of us. Using smart words in a smart way is your job, not mine. I barely survived high school, remember?”

“But you’re a Colonel. That means you’re a very smart man too,” Damien, at last, had a smile on his face. “May I take your hand?” When William nodded, the Mayor was quick to do so and kiss the back of it. “Thank you for being here for me, even if I’m still the worst patient.”

“You’re a woeful patient. But you’re handsome, so I’ll forgive you.” The smile was matched as an idea popped into William’s head. “May I kiss you? As an apology, I mean.”

“Yes, sir.” It was a quiet reply, but enough for William to hear and quickly follow on that request. When he pulled back, he reached out to adjust the medal still pinned on Damien’s jacket.

“There. Now, finish what you’re doing so I can take you back to your house so you can lie down without interruption,” Damien gave William a tired look, but the Colonel quickly continued, “s-speaking as a concerned boyfriend, of course.”

#writersofmark #dilliam #mayor damien #william j barnum #who killed markiplier #tw war #(just in case)#tw lost limb #(also; anon? I'm now tempted to take the drabble I once wrote for switching the end of WKM so Damien survived #and edit it up to make it readable. I also want to change a plot idea I had in it so I can include the 'm.otherloving' alternative)#Blue Soul (Damien)#Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 3 years

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Hook and Seek || Damien and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Perfect Pint PARTIES: @damienxsheppard and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: A hunter and a werewolf walk into a bar. CONTENT WARNINGS: Drinking and violence

Another night, another bar. Kaden couldn’t stomach the Silver Bullet, not tonight, not after what he did on the beach the other day. He wasn’t ready to face Devin or anyone else in that place. But he needed some way to fill up his time, a way to fill in the holes that were tearing into him. So he settled for the Perfect Pint. A match was on. There was beer. For a moment or two he could pretend to be normal. And that was something, right? He knocked back his drink and must have leaned too far over when doing so, knocking into the guy next to him and spilling his drink. “Shit,” he said to the man next to him, apologizing. “Didn’t think I was that close. You good?” He winced when he saw the drink had gone everywhere across the bar. Putain de merde. He waved the bartender over as he tried to help clean up his fucking mess. “Another of whatever he was having. On me. Tab for Kaden.”

The town still had more to offer Damien than he expected, he’d only had a chance to wander the main roads since his move but there seemed to be more beyond that only the brave tested at night. The Perfect Pint emitted a welcoming atmosphere and he was happy to swing in, check it out, and get a decent drink. The drinks were much cheaper than those on the menu in the city and he knew already he’d grow to appreciate that. Damien had been savoring some local brew when he felt a man lean too far back and knock his glass over. He hadn’t really been unsettled by it, in the city you had to be willing to lose a drink or two on a busy night in the club. Damien plucked the empty glass off the bar and placed it back upright, a little surprised to see the bartender switch it for a full one, “you didn’t have to do that,” he began and turned his attention to the stranger, “rough night?”

Kaden breathed a sigh of relief. It was a fifty fifty after spilling a drink at a bar if you were going to get decked or not, especially in a sports bar on game night. Not that he couldn’t take the hit, he just wasn’t in the mood. “Don’t mention it,” he said, waving it off before downing the rest of his own drink. Kaden huffed out a laugh. “More like rough week.” He shook his head and thought a little longer. “Or well, more like rough month. Putain de merde, you know what, it’s been a rough fucking year to be honest.” He waved the bartender over to get another drink of his own. Wait a second. He furrowed his brow as he felt the familiar chill creep down his spine. Not now. Not right fucking now. Of course there was a fucking werewolf in the fucking bar. There were werewolves everywhere, weren’t there? He just couldn’t care at the moment. Maybe later. “Didn’t catch your name. And what about you? Spilled drink the worst that’s happened to you today or what?”

A single eyebrow raised as Damien watched the stranger throw back the remainder of his drink, he’s familiar with the sentiment, drowning your worries at the bottom of a glass. Something of a weary smile appeared on Damien’s lips, one born from understanding as the man confessed it had been more than just a rough night. “Maybe I should be the one buying you a drink,” he began and as the bartender came back Damien motioned for him to keep the drinks going. He struggled to understand the man’s words as he swore, he knew he’d heard such a phrase before, so many different people flocked to New York from around the world. The alcohol in his system had made it difficult to figure out and Damien abandoned the search before he even got started. A bitter bark of a laugh leaves his chest when the stranger asks about the status of his day, “I wish a spilled drink was the worst I had to complain about. Name’s Damien. What’s been making your year so shitty?”

“Maybe,” Kaden said with a shrug before downing the last of his drink. He was pleased to see how quickly it was replaced. Another sip. It didn’t make the chill go away. The werewolf was here. And he couldn’t ignore it, as much as he wanted to. He rolled his shoulders back, hoping to roll off the feeling like water. Nothing. Putain. He was just going to try to drink some more, see if it dulled the feeling. Or at least made him feel better about it. This conversation sure wasn’t helping. Kaden considered his answer. There wasn’t much he could say or explain, not really. He wasn’t about to say that he was a werewolf hunter who wasn’t sure that he should kill werewolves. Or that his banshee girlfriend was ritualistically torturing herself in the woods. Or that his mother’s spirit was banished forever earlier this year. And that he’d lost more friends than he could count. None of that seemed like the right answer. But there was one, simple, easy answer. One that wrapped it all up in a fucking bow. “This town,” he said before taking another drink. “This fucking town. It’s-- Shit, how long have you been here?” He thought about drinking more of his beer. No, he would wait a beat. Just one. “Nice to meet you, Damien. Bet you’re glad you picked this spot to sit down, huh? So what’s your complaint, then? Share the wealth.”

Damien rested in his chair taking swigs of his beer as he waited for Kaden to answer his question, behind him the game kicked up on the screen and a man beside him pounded his fist on the bar in frustration. He had never been one for sports but the aggression didn’t go unnoticed. One dangerous aspect Damien had been ignorant of as a new werewolf were the threats to the supernatural. He had no idea hunters even existed. As far as he was concerned, violence could come from an array of sources, he’d only recently been unfortunate enough to find it in a set of jaws. The reply isn’t one he expected and it wasn’t the first time Damien had heard the same sentiment. “I haven’t been here long, think I moved in a few weeks ago now,” he shrugged as if the time he’d spent here was irrelevant, “but I’ve heard that before. From other residents I mean. Seems this place is a difficult town to live in.” Damien took another sip from his beer, not all that interested in pacing himself. He looked down at his drink when Kaden returned the question, truthfully, he missed his family. He missed his home. That was too much honesty to share over a drink. He sucked in a breath and began, “well I work in construction, usually the demolition part of it. We had some new guy on a project today and he’s working on a wall with a nail gun, had his headphones in and got distracted. Fucking idiot, put a nail right through his hand.” Damien threw his hands up in mild frustration, “made a bloody mess. Don’t think I’ve seen a fella cry so much in a long time.”

“Not surprised,” Kaden said, tapping his fingers against the glass, leaving fingerprints in the cold condensation. “The death rate in the place is off the charts. It’s a wonder anyone moves here. I say, as someone who moved here about a year and a half ago.” Funny that the reason he came here wasn’t at all the reason he was staying. Hunting was confusing. And it wasn’t the draw to this place for him anymore. “It’s… I mean, if you make it here, the connections are… I don’t know, there’s definitely no place like White Crest, I’ll tell you that much.” He traced a circle around the bottom of the glass absentmindedly before taking another drink. He perked up at Damien’s response, raising a brow.“Construction, huh? I was going to tell you to leave town but you’ll never be out of a job here.” Might die before you could take too many, sure, but a construction worker was always needed in White Crest. Monsters and magic destroyed the place about every other day. It was a wonder half the places stayed open long enough to break even. “Shit, nail right through the hand? That’s brutal. I’m Animal Control so I’ve seen my fair share of injuries, but mine are usually at the other end of teeth or claws, you know.”

It was odd how death seemed to loom over White Crest yet people continued to come despite the obvious danger, not that Damien had seen any major red flags driving it. It wasn’t as though the sign for White Crest warned people the population number was tentative. Really, the residents were the ones to offer him a word of caution, not that Damien had been much for taking it. The authorities in this town had their work cut out for them which worked in his favor, he could raise hell every now and then and hardly earn their attention. “Yeah well, maybe I’ll stick around for awhile,” Damien began, taking another drink of his beer. If he had been honest, Damien knew he just might join the body count for this town. The only thing he felt like focusing on when he wasn’t at the bar was finding the people who tore his life apart and repaying them in kind. The memory of his family pressed forward and Damien downed the rest of his drink to drown it. The bartender was quick to replace the bottle. He shifted in his seat and returned to the subject at hand, “you’re not wrong there. We’ve got so many contracts being drawn up we’ll be working well into next year.” Damien shook his head, “it was pretty brutal. Kid flailed his hand around so much I had to take a shower before I came here. Animal control huh? I’ve heard the moose in this town get pretty wild. Or do you usually deal with like, stray dogs?”

“I take it you’re one to take risks. Or just adventurous in that case.” Or maybe there was something else. Some deeper, more supernatural reason that this Damien guy was here. Kaden didn’t really care at the moment and polished off his glass for the time being. For once he didn’t want to be on alert. Or think about what his duty was or where he should be and how fucking far he’d slipped. Fuck that. He just wanted a drink and to watch a damn football match and pretend that he could be normal. “Doesn’t surprise me. Good for you. On the contracts, not the blood. That, uh, that sounds bad. Maybe less of that.” Kaden looked for his drink to try and take an opportunity to shut himself up and found nothing so he awkwardly nodded and looked for the bartender instead. Putain. He was glad to change the subject. “Both,” he said casually, laughing a little to himself as he took another sip. The moose. It was funny, he saw far less actual damn moose in this town than he ever reported on. “There’s a lot of unusual animals in this place so it’s never boring, that’s for fucking sure. Some days it’s a relief when all it is is a stray dog or a cat stuck in a damn tree.” He was always curious if he really did enough to cover up some of what happened here, if normal people were aware of half of what went down on a day to day basis. “What about you? Have you seen anything weird he--” Kaden stopped mid sentence and his eyes narrowed. He’d reached down to grab his keys to fiddle with them, give his hands something to do. Only they weren’t there. He started to pat down his pockets. No, not there. Or there either. He looked around and down and didn’t see them anywhere. That was odd. “Hey, sorry, you don’t see a set of keys around anywhere do you?”

“I guess,” Damein replied, “it’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go.” Which was a brutal truth, he couldn’t exactly return home anymore, might as well unpack in White Crest. That truth definitely slipped out because of the beer, he didn’t usually like to talk so much about himself. Damien hoped his honesty wouldn’t provoke interest on the subject, he focused on Kaden and his occupation as the new topic of discussion. “You see more strange creatures than a moose?” The possibility caused Damien’s brows to furrow and contemplate what animal could be considered strange in this town. Selfishly, he wanted to know if there were wolves in this town, so far he had met three, but they were not the creatures he was looking for. “I’m from the city so we didn’t have anything but squirrels and stray cats. They didn’t bother you much if you threw them some scraps.” Damien took another drink from his beer, he could feel his head become light from the alcohol’s influence, when he turned the details of the room became harder to keep track of. He didn’t care, it’s not like he had a reason to stay sober tonight. Damien is relieved that Kaden’s doesn’t finish his question, or at the very least, is interrupted by something more pressing. He had seen some usual things in White Crest but he had always been so quick to dismiss it or make excuses for it, he never really paid attention to what it could be. It was easier to blame the shadows than recognize he’d seen something unnatural. Damien let his gaze drop to the floor in search of any metallic shine that could be a set of keys, then he searched the length of the bar for anything lost among the glasses, “sorry man, I don’t see any.”

“Well, you can say that again.” Fuck, Kaden knew that song and dance. Had it fucking memorized. It’s not like he had anywhere better to go, either. Of course some sick part of him was starting to like it here. He was pretty sure he hated that more than the alternative. ��I’m guessing family is a complicated fucking word to you too, then?” There weren’t many people out there with nowhere to go and ample family. Not in his experience. “Oh yeah, a lot more strange creatures than moose. And there’s a decent moose population here. Some of them scream, by the way.” He was shocked the lie endured through the drunken haze. Maybe he should drink a little more to at least have an excuse if he failed to maintain the illusion. “Be careful of some of the squirrels here. Some of them eat a lot more than scraps.” Granted, those weren't squirrels. They were agropelters. Seemed easier not to go into the details. But hopefully the guy didn't lose his finger anytime soon.

Kaden’s brows furrowed even more, deepening the creases in his forehead. Still no keys. There was only one thing to do. Get off the stool and get on his hands and knees to check for his keys. “They’re not here, either,” he announced with a sigh before trying to pull himself back up. A strange giggle from somewhere just behind him made him knock his head on the bar on the way up. “Putain de merde!” he shouted, rubbing what was about to be a damn bump on his crown. Fuck. He crawled the rest of the way up and just in front of him there they were. His keys. Floating. Floating? And then with a flash, a fae appeared around them. “Wait a--” That was a fae. A fucking clurichaun. “There! You see that?” he shouted, placing his hand on Damien’s arm to get the other man’s attention. As soon as he placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder, a rush of chills shot down his spine. Aw, fuck. He was a werewolf. Kaden was damn near sure of it. Even while inebriated, there was no mistaking it. Shit. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about that. Or if he even cared. Did he care? Putain, he probably cared. But first, the fae and his keys. Kaden stood and realized that was a mistake when he wobbled a little. “Might, uh, need some help. But they-- they went,” he jutted his hand out to point where the fae had last been, “that a way.”

The mere mention of the word family made Damien feel like he was going to throw up every last drop of alcohol he had consumed this evening. In an attempt to avoid and ignore the question he took up the bottle in his hand for another drink. It was difficult not to think of his little makeshift family in moments like this, he had hardly spent a day without seeing someone in his gang and they ended most of their nights in a bar. He watched as Kaden slipped from his spot to search for his keys. Damien attempted to help but spared little effort, he doesn’t move from his chair, sure that if he does the full influence of the alcohol will remind him of the poor decision he’s made. Instead his gaze drifted over the tables in the surrounding area, he even flagged the bartender to ask if anything had been turned in before he heard the loud thud of Kaden’s head meeting the bar. He nearly laughed at that but settled for a small grin instead.

Damien was about to take another sip of his beer when Kaden’s hand abruptly grabbed him, he thought little of the interaction until his attention found the man’s keys. “Oh fuck man, I’m drunk,” he groaned, pressing his hand to his forehead like he’d caught a fever that made him halicinate. “Wait, you…” Kaden saw it too, he had pointed it out, which meant it wasn’t an illusion? Instinctively, Damiens hands had reached out to grab Kaden as his frame staggered, helping to keep him upright before downing the rest of his beer and joining him. He felt it then too, and held onto Kaden’s shoulder momentarily for support till the room stopped spinning. “I don’t know what that thing was, maybe it was an ugly ass rat or something. Let’s go find out.”

Kaden almost shivered as the werewolf leaned on him for support. Not that he was complaining too much, he absolutely needed help staying upright and honestly appreciated the help, but all the same, his hunter senses made it feel like there was an ice cube sliding down his back. Right. He was too drunk to give a shit. Drunk and getting help from a werewolf. His parents would be so proud. “Of course I,” Kaden paused to hiccup, “saw it. It was right there.” Putain, did the werewolf not know about the supernatural? That would be his luck. “I think it was fae. Something or other. Come on.” He dragged the other man with him towards the back of the pub where he was sure he saw the creature scurry off to. A small chuckle and clanging of the keys came from his left. Kaden thought that he snapped towards the sound and cautiously proceeded but in reality he wobbled and caught himself on the edge of one of the booths. “Hey get out of the way of the game, connard,” a man in the booth shouted. The keys clanged again and the small creature shimmered into existence again just behind that man’s shoulder.

“No. You gotta move. Thanks,” Kaden slurred out as he grabbed the man from out of the booth. This was not well received. As evidence by the shouting, swearing, and the fists thrown Kaden’s way. “Hey! I just want my keys!” he shouted back as he held his hand up to his jaw right where he got decked. He didn’t want to punch back. That was fine. Kaden just grabbed him by the collar and back of his shirt and threw the guy out of the way before climbing into the booth, shakily standing on the seat, looking around for any sign of the creature. The man’s friends sitting across from this were stunned at first but the anger was clearly rising in them as well. This was about to be a scene. But all Kaden cared about here his damn keys. “You see that little shit anywhere?” he asked Damien.

A fae. Damien was too drunk to conceal his emotions, an amused grin crept onto his lips, the kind that came easy with disbelief. “Right yeah, a fae,” his words oozed forward, dripping in humor, “you’re as drunk as I am man.” Damien patted Kaden’s chest as the pair staggered forward, a friendly gesture that conveyed something like, it’s okay if you think you saw a fae, or, we’ll laugh about that one later bud. What little Damien did know of the supernatural remained secluded around his own species, and even then he hadn’t figured all of that out. Much of the time he’d spent sober was dedicated to finding out who had torn his life apart, not what had become of him since he was bitten.

Following his drinking buddy to the booth, Damien remained sure the other had simply misplaced his keys somewhere in the bar, or that someone had picked them up by mistake. His attention was too focused on the look of the group to notice the appearance of the fae, the wolf’s gaze only shifted when Kaden pulled a man from his seat. Asking Damien to be in a bar where a fight was about to occur was like lighting a match next to some gasoline and expecting the fire to simmer out. As the customer landed a hit on Kaden something in Damien’s posture shifted significantly. It was like he’d been half-asleep during this interaction and just woken up, his eyes settled dangerously on the man who’d punched his companion and his fingers curled into a fist. For a moment, Kaden could rifle through the booth undisturbed as the group assessed Damien’s potential as a threat, but only for a moment as he stepped forward and realized with great disappointment he was too drunk to fight. If he engaged them now, he’d be damned to lose.

A sharp glimmer dragged his attention to one of the patron’s glass, in it he caught the shine of a set of keys drowned in beer. “I found the rat,” Damien called far too loudly to Kaden, without hesitation he let his fingers dive into the glass to retrieve the keys. This act was received as well as Kaden’s instruction and one of the men quickly grabbed him by his shirt to land a hit on him, only unlike Kaden, Damien replied in kind by delivering a drunk, blind punch of his own.

“Putain! You found them!” Kaden exclaimed as he climbed out of the booth, using the other customer’s head to stabilize him on the way down. The man swatted at him and tried to grab his wrists but Kaden elbowed him away before reaching out to get his keyes. “Thanks, man, you’re a real--” Another hit game to the side of his face again before he could finish his sentence. And it seemed like Damien was throwing punches as well. Alright. That’s what was happening now? Kaden could fight some fuckers in a bar, sure, why not. He had never been great at hand to hand, he preferred a knife any day, but he was still a goddamn hunter.

Kaden wobbled as he turned to reel on the guy who had grabbed him and threw a sloppy punch at him. It missed. Fucking hell. He settled for stomping on his foot. Something started tugging from behind him and Kaden realized one of the friends had jumped in. “Hey, not the hair!” he shouted as he clutched at his roots, trying to swat the guy away. Putain de merde. He didn’t expect grown men in a bar fight to pull a move usually seen from primary school girls. He planned on making this a fair fight, but now the fire blazed through him, that old familiar adrenaline of the hunt fueling him forward. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed the guy into the booth, pressing his face into the table. This was probably the part where he should let go of this dick and walk the hell away. But he had to admit it was a little fun. Of course his grip was shaky and he had a strange feeling gurgling in his stomach.

Damien’s fingers tightened around the ring of keys till the edges of them dug into his palm, after all their searching he would not so easily give them up, even with someone pounding their fist into his chest. Pain was not often a useful deterrent for the wolf, he’d practically grown up with it by his side so when it erupted from the force of the man’s fist he knew to greet it like an old friend. The hit Damien landed on the man fell low on his jaw and while his head snapped in one direction from the force of it, the blows Damien delivered sober were much more severe. He might be drunk but that didn't make him weak. He was about to release the keys to Kaden when the brawl escalated and he had to manage another patron on his own.

A wild smile cut into Damien’s lips at the chaos that erupted, it did not live long as the man he’d been tangled with crashed his knuckles into his cheek. The room blurred and bended for a moment as he staggered, instinctively he reached out to a nearby table to stabilize himself, the keys in his hand skidding forward. “Dammit,” the curse was spit from his lips along with a splatter of blood. Damien’s collar was torn in one direction as he was confronted with the patron once more, while the man wound up a hit Damien aimed for his gut, his blow landed and the man bent over before he fell back into the booth. Moments later he found another rearing up to attack his drinking pal and Damien grabbed an empty bottle from the table and smashed it over his head. The action of it threw off his own balance which caused the wolf to wobble and fall down himself. It was there that Damien saw the fae with Kaden’s keys in its possession once more, sneaking underneath the battle to find the next location to deposit the item. Damien lurched forward, snaring the creature in his grasp, applauding himself with a cheerful bark of laughter for his accuracy.

“I caught it!” he shouted, struggling to get off the floor and grabbing the booth helplessly, “I caught the little fucker!” Damien could not get up, the room swayed too much for him to regain any sense of balance and his own body felt too heavy to lift. Struggling, he grappled onto the booth and hoisted himself up and then grabbed Kaden’s wrist to smack the fae from his hand into the other’s palm. It was only then, after the little creature cried in protest that Damien could finally see it was not a rat at all.

Kaden swallowed back the bile rising in his stomach just before the man he had pinned down kicked out at him. Good call. This whole endeavor? Probably a shit call, though. Too late now. Kaden stumbled back and found his foot caught on something, a leg maybe? What the fuck he tripped on didn’t matter, all that did matter was he was falling backwards and slammed his back into a pillar dividing the room. The bump on the back of his head should have hurt more, surely, but he hardly noticed it in his inebriation. That and the breath knocked from his lungs was a much more pressing issue. So was the drunkard charging at him with a plate in hand. Putain. Kaden ducked and twisted away, only to find his feet tangled even more with the legs sprawled across the floor. The hunter caught himself on the edge of another booth, thankfully empty. And lucky for him, it looked like the idiot with the plate slammed himself into the wall and wasn’t getting back up anytime soon.

A hit came out of nowhere from the side. Why the fuck was he dealing with all of these assholes on his own? Where the fuck did the werewolf get to? Kaden still felt his presence. His had shot up to nurse the sting of pain across the side of his face when he looked down. The legs on the floor. They were Damien’s. Another arm came flying towards Kaden before he could figure out what the fuck was going on down there. Reaching out to swat it away was like navigating underwater, the whole world was spinning and reeling. Kaden’s nails dug into some piece of skin, it was likely a forearm or wrist, couldn’t tell, but he twisted it as hard as he could either way. The scream that rang out through the bar dropped a pit of guilt into his stomach. Or maybe that was the bile. Hard to say.

There wasn’t a chance for Kaden to question if he’d gone too far while fighting a human, something was slammed into his palm. His forehead creased as he tried to look down and concentrate on what the fuck he was holding. He blinked several times before the pieces fit together. “Putain! A fucking clurrr--” Kaden paused to let out a small belch. “Clurichaun. Shit.” He reached down and pried the keys from the fae’s hands even as it protested. He held up the monster and looked at it. It was shaking, frightened, but it still stuck its tongue out at the hunter. He knew he should kill the fucker. He was a hunter. It’s what he did. But he couldn’t will himself to pull out a knife. Or squeeze a little tighter around the creature’s neck. The fuck was wrong with him? “You want it?” Kaden asked the other man instead.

Even now as Damien tried to narrow his focus on the creature he’d delivered to Kaden he couldn’t believe it wasn’t a rat. The room swayed as he tried to concentrate and make the fae out, or maybe he was swaying, it didn’t seem to matter much. The features of the small monster appeared and then blurred, he watched as tiny arms protested the keys being pried from them. “A what?” Damien’s voice was louder than it needed to be, damn near a shout, but he didn’t have the mindset to adjust his volume.

Accepting the creature back, the wolf brought it clasped in hand closer for review. The Clurichaun protested Damien’s hold, miniscule nails dug into his fingers and once the creature even bit him. It really wasn’t a rat. “Fucking hell,” Damien muttered, and Kaden was offering for him to keep it? He wasn’t even sure what it was let alone how to care for it. Disbelief was written plainly into his features as he almost reluctantly uncurled his fingers for the monster to escape. Still, Damien didn’t know what to make of it, even after seeing it with his own eyes it was hard to believe.

The damage obtained in the fight had finally set in, though the alcohol had helped to reduce it to a dull ache. Damien didn’t know that after a few days the bruises would heal, the supernatural healing he had inherited through the bite still unfamiliar to him. Throwing an arm over Kaden’s shoulder, the wolf leaned into him as amusement bent his lips into a grin, “is this what most of your nights look like? I’m going to have to get your number, give you a ring next time I head out.” Damien began to walk forward, well, stumble really, half-expecting Kaden to make up for it as he dragged him along. “Is there a...um…” the thought had skittered away from him and Dmaien snapped his fingers as if the action would help him recall it. “Taxi! Is there some taxi system around here?”

It took Kaden a moment to realize the monster was getting further and further away. Did he let it go? Did Damien? It didn’t matter after he felt the wolf’s arm wrap around his shoulder and the chills shooting down his spine. Strange, in the drunken haze it didn’t make him want to flinch away. He almost dared to call it normal. Putain, that wasn’t it. It just wasn’t as offensive as the bile threatening its way back up. He steadied himself under the other man’s arm, or tried to. In reality, it was a graceless balancing act. He blinked and considered the question while he tried to focus on making the room stop spinning. “Sort of, yeah,” he finally answered. Recently they hadn’t been quite this lively, sure, but he definitely ran into monsters and fae more often than he ever cared to. And if he thought on it, he had to admit that some sick part of him missed the adrenaline rush from hunting with is previous frequency. Bar fights were a rational substitute, right? Right.

World still spinning. Right. It didn’t help that Kaden was trying to wave at Damien to stop whatever it was he was doing while doubling over in laughter. He wasn’t even sure what he was laughing at. Something about the word taxi. “I don’t know,” he spat through laughter, trying to catch himself before he actually fell over. “Let...let’s ask the bartender. He… he knows things.” If nothing else, he’d know how to send them both packing.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #damien #damienxsheppard #hook and seek

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ghosttotheparty · 4 years

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say my name and say it twice (cotton candy skies)

21. also on AO3 chapter twenty

It’s like Jens’s mom is in mourning.

At first, she seemed like she was getting better, like it was affecting her as much, just after a few days. She seemed sad for a little bit, and then she started laughing more, grinning when Lotte made fun of Jens, humming as she cleaned the dishes or swept the floor.

But when she thinks no one is looking, she looks sad.

Her mouth turns into a frown, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly like there are strings attached, tugged toward the ground. Her eyes turn dim, the sparkle that always shines fogging over as her eyes unfocus. Her hair sometimes falls into her face, strands covering her eyes. She doesn’t push it away like she usually does. The lines in her face deepen, and she looks older. And alone, sitting in her seat at the dinner table, or standing by the sink, letting the steaming water just run from the faucet, her soapy hands unmoving.

Mom?

It was like she didn’t hear him for a second, and then she lifted her hands, turning toward him, blinking, pushing her hair out of her face, pressing it to her head. There were bubbles caught in her hair, white soapy foam streaked across the top of her head, and she didn’t notice.

And she smiled, the shine in her eyes coming back.

And he just gave her a kiss on her forehead before telling her that he would put the dishes away. Don’t worry about it, he’d said. She smiled, a little smile of relief and Jens wished he could do more.

He wishes he could know what’s wrong. He assumed it was about her father, even though it was weeks ago that she shoved him, cursed him, kicked him out of her home. But every time he looks at her when she’s like this, when she looks dull and worn out, he can’t help but feel like there’s more to it, like maybe it’s unrelated to Dilan, like maybe he was the trigger or just one of the straws on the camel’s back.

Which worries him.

He forgets about it when he dances though. If he’s honest, he forgets about everything when he dances, about school, homework, the guys, Lucas, his mom, Lotte, everything good, and everything bad. There’s nothing in those moments, nothing except him and the music. In those moments, the whole world ceases to be, and he can’t feel the pain in his toes from the pointe shoes, he can’t feel the uncomfortable itch at the top of his spine from the cut-off tag on his leotard, he can’t even hear his instructor counting with the music.

One, and two, and three, and four, and five, and six, and se-ven, eight One, and two, and three, and four, and five, and six, and se-ven, eight One, and two, and three, and four, and five, and six, and se-ven, eight

He’s hardly even conscious of the other dancers around him as their bodies weave around each other, as their limbs flow through the air gracefully like they’re underwater. He barely feels his hair falling against his forehead, brushing over his eyes as he spins, leaping through the air, a breath escaping him as he lands like wind rushing through a forest. There’s not a cell in his body that thinks to hesitate, not a sense of maybe, and if he didn’t have to see, his eyes would drift shut.

They do drift shut as he spins, one leg bent with his pointed foot at his knee, his arms gently curved downward as his head turns, until he lifts his arms, his hands loosely linked above his head as his body spins faster and faster, like a skater on ice, until he stops, stepping forward, one arm extended in front of himself, the other trailing behind him, and his eyes open, catching at the corner of the room. His muscles tense, ready to lift his body into an arabesque, and the music cuts off abruptly.

He drops his arms awkwardly, stepping back as he faces the instructor, standing in front of the mirror. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight, slick bun, the harsh lights of the studio are reflecting on it as she looks down at her phone, which is plugged into the speaker next to her.

“I just realised we’re five minutes overtime,” she says, looking up. She’s grinning almost mischievously, and the other dancers scoff at her.

Her name is Cecile, and she’s in her late thirties, though she refuses to tell them how old she is exactly. Usually, during practice, they call her Cec, just to grab her attention, but Lena and Jens call her Madame Cecile just to annoy her. (There’s always a “Stop calling me that!” followed by their snickers.)

“You can stretch and stuff if you want, but…” She checks the small watch on her wrist. “The next group will be here soon so you can also just leave.”

Jens looks to Damien, who’s leaning against the wall, his hands behind his back, and they both shrug at each other before heading to the door, following a stream of dancers. Lena ends up in front of Jens and he grabs the smooth bun at the top of her head, pulling gently. She reaches up and smacks him. (He also hears a faint “I’ll kill you,” and he snorts as they part ways in the hallway.)

---

Jens squeezes past some jazz dancers as he follows his friends down the hall. He can’t hear what Lena is saying, but he can see her face as she walks backwards to look at Damien, and she looks quite passionate, her eyes wide, a hand lifted and pointing at Damien.

Jens manages to step up next to Rosa as they walk through the lobby of the studio, past the front desk, sliding his arm over her shoulder, and she leans into him affectionately.

“So we agree then?” Lena says, and Jens cocks his head at her, confused. “If Jens doesn’t get the solo this year, we all riot?”

He laughs and feels Rosa laugh next to him, her shoulders shaking. Damien nods to Lena when she points at him, her brows raised almost threateningly.

“I’ll riot with you,” Rosa says, her voice light, and Lena inhales deeply through pursed lips, pointing at her.

“I think Rosa rioting is like… God’s worst fear.”

Jens laughs as Rosa giggles shyly, looking down, and he catches Damien laughing softly too, looking at Rosa with soft eyes.

“I don’t think I’m going to get the solo, guys,” he comments, pulling Rosa closer as they approach another dancer and she steps in front of him so they can pass.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Lena says curtly.

“I’m serious!”

“Well, stop it,” Damien says as he pulls his duffle bag against his chest to take up less space in the small entrance room. “You have to get it.”

“Why wouldn’t K—”

“Because you’re gonna get it,” Rosa nearly shouts over him, and he laughs loudly.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

“I am?”

“You’re both obnoxious, shut up,” Lena says flatly, and they both giggle as Damien opens the door for them. There’s a rush of crisp air when the door swings open, and Jens shivers, pulling the sleeve of his jacket down over his hand, gripping it tightly.

“Oof. Hace frío.” Lena rubs her palms together in front of her face, and they all turn to her, confused. “Why are you speaking Spanish?” Rosa asks, cocking her head at her. Jens notices her take a tiny step toward Damien.

“I’m on my DuoLingo shit. So I can talk to your abuela when I meet her.”

Jens assumes this is a reference to a conversation he missed, but he almost laughs when he sees Rosa press her lips together, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Yeah, about that…”

Lena’s smile drops.

“I was just messing with you, she doesn’t only know Spanish.”

Jens stifles his laughter with a hand as she stares at Rosa, her face blank until her eyes narrow.

“Pendejo.”

“Hey!” Rosa bursts out laughing, and Jens shakes his head at them as Lena pretends to throw a slap at her.

He looks up, past Damien, over his shoulder, to the convenience store on the sidewalk, and catches sight of Lucas.

The sunlight on him is dim, the lighting bluish, and Lucas is looking down at his phone, leaning against the wall. One leg is crossed over the other, a hand in the pocket of a purple hoodie he’s wearing, and Jens sees glints in the silver chains around his neck. He smiles softly even though Lucas doesn’t see him, and he barely hears Lena and Rosa bickering. (“You’re so mean.” “You lied to me.” “Yeah, and it was funny.” “You—”)

“Hey guys?” he says suddenly, and it takes a second before they stop swatting at each other and look at him.

“Yes?” Damien says.

“Uhm…” He pauses, taking a deep breath, and feels their eyes on him. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh my god, it is your mom?” Lena asks flatly.

“No?”

“Oh.”

He hesitates, making a face at her, before looking past Damien again.

“Lu!”

Lucas looks up from his phone, still leaning against the wall, his eyebrows raised as their eyes lock, and Jens grins before beckoning. The others watch, all turned to face Lucas, who stands up straight, tucking his phone into his pocket as he walks toward them, a smile on his face, his eyes sparkling. Jens holds an arm out as Lucas approaches them.

“Hi,” Lucas says shyly, stepping up next to Jens. Jens grins again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“This is Lucas,” Jens says, tightening his arm around him, and Lucas’s cheeks flush even more pink than they already were from the cold. “Uh…” He takes a breath. “My boyfriend.”

“You’re what’s been making this dummy smile like a fool?” Lena says, stepping in and punching Lucas gently.

“I guess, yeah.”

“He has that effect on me.”

“I’m Damien,” Damien says, not letting Lena say anything else, and holds his hand out to Lucas, who shakes it.

“Jens has told me about you guys.”

“Told you what?” Rosa asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

“Well you’re Rosa, and you’re soft spoken.” Lucas turns to Lena. “And you’re Lena, and you’re not soft spoken.”

Jens laughs quietly when Lena says, “Okay, Jens, I’m going to have to have a talk with you,” and turns away from her, pressing a kiss to Lucas’s head.

“You guys are really cute,” Lena says, watching.

“We know,” Jens says, sighing, and Lucas snorts, sliding an arm around his waist, carefully slipping between him and the straps of the duffle bag.

“Humble.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How long have you been together?” Damien asks, and Lucas and Jens look at each other, perplexed.

“A few weeks, maybe?” Lucas says, turning to look back at Damien, and Jens takes the opportunity to gaze at the side of his face, smiling softly.

He was less nervous about coming out to them than he is about coming out to the guys, though he really doesn’t know why. (Although, he also doesn’t know if he really came out. He supposes introducing his boyfriend does the job, but he didn’t say the words “I’m bisexual,” so does it really count? But he does feel lighter, almost relieved, so he thinks it does.) He’s glad they’re all focused on Lucas right now, as they poke fun at Jens, on Lucas telling the story of how they met, and Jens is only half listening.

He feels at peace, smiling softly, staring absently at a crack in the pavement, a hand in his pocket and the other resting on the back of Lucas’s head, gently playing with his curls.

He feels like he’s dancing.

He only looks back up and starts listening when he hears Lena say, “Oh, my girl’s here.”

She’s looking down at her phone and types for a short few seconds before looking up and stepping over to Damien, getting up on her tiptoes and kissing his cheeks.

“Bye, honey,” she says as she kisses Rosa’s cheeks, a stark difference to how they were acting before, and Jens laughs to himself. Lucas looks up at him, confused.

“You missed them bickering earlier.”

“Shut up, Jens,” Lena and Rosa say simultaneously, and now Lucas laughs.

“It was nice meeting you, Lucas, I’ll see you around.”

Lena leans up to kiss his cheeks and Lucas’s face flushes a light pink as he smiles at her (making Jens’s heart flutter), and she punches Jens after kissing his face, and then she leaves, skipping across the street to a motorcycle.

“I should probably go to, actually,” Rosa says, glancing at her phone. “I’ll probably have to help Mom with dinner.”

She does the same as Lena, first reaching up and kissing Damien’s cheeks (Damien’s shoulders shrug up and his face darkens and Jens suppresses a smile), then Lucas, who leans down so she can reach him, then Jens.

“See you next week.” She waves sweetly as she turns and walks down the sidewalk, her hair, which she released from the ballet bun after practice, flying in the wind behind her. She could be in a L’Oréal commercial. Damien is scratching the back of his neck, watching her leave, looking like he’s forgotten about Lucas and Jens.

Jens looks at Lucas, grinning, and then looks from Damien to Rosa pointedly, and Lucas gasps quietly, his jaw dropping, and he beams.

“So, Damien,” he says slyly, and Damien looks at him, looking startled.

“Yeah?”

“You and Rosa..”

“Oh, we’re not—” His face turns red again and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “That’s not— It’s—No, we’re not…” He’s shaking his head at Lucas, and Jens laughs quietly, turning and pressing his forehead to Lucas’s temple.

“Should you, though?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrows and turning his head.

“I…” Damien turns and looks to Jens sharply. “Did you put him up to this?”

Jens laughs harder, lifting his head and half-raising his hands like he’s surrendering.

“I didn’t do anything, man.”

“Look.” Damien takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna ask her out, because I know she wouldn’t say yes.”

“Damien, I’ve known you guys for like ten minutes, and I know she would.”

Damien huffs.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to ask her out right now, obviously, just… Think about it. She’s so sweet, worst case scenario, she says no, and…” Lucas shrugs.

Damien sighs, looking away, and Jens can see a small smile crawl across his face.

“I’ll think about it.”

Lucas smiles, satisfied, and Jens lets out a loud “What?”

Lucas starts laughing and Damien looks to Jens.

“Huh?”

“How are you listening to him after like ten minutes but you don’t listen to me after literal years? What the fuck?”

Damien laughs, doubling over slightly, before straightening and gesturing to Lucas.

“I don’t know, I guess he just has a better way with words.”

“All he said was ‘this about it!’”

Damien is still laughing when his phone chimes in his pocket (Jens has chided him for leaving his ringer on during practice; Damien pointed out that he leaves the phone in his locker and it’s not bothering anyone.) and he pulls it out, looking away from them.

Jens leans down slightly and kisses Lucas’s cheek softly, a quiet I missed you. Lucas gives him a little smile (I missed you too.)

“Shit, my mom’s waiting for me, I forgot she was coming today.” Damien types for a second and then looks up. “I guess you guys have a date or something?”

“Yup,” Jens answers before Lucas can say anything, and Lucas looks up, surprised. “An actual date, not just weed and a dumpster.”

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Damien says, holding his hand out to Lucas. “I’ll see you later.”

“So an actual date?” Lucas asks, turning to Jens as Damien makes his way across the street.

“Yup. I don’t have school tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Come here.”

Jens lets go of Lucas’s shoulders and they separate for a second before Jens grabs his arm, pulling him toward the alley.

“Thought we had a date?”

“Yeah, but first…”

He can hear Lucas giggling behind him as he pulls in into the alley, away from the street where the shadows hide them.

He turns, pushing Lucas against the wall and Lucas lets his head fall back, looking up at him with his chin up, looking smug.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Jens breaths, leaning in and kissing him. Lucas takes in a deep breath, reaching up and sliding his cold hands over Jens’s neck, and Jens shivers, grabbing his waist and pulling him in. Lucas hums, tilting his head and opening his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick, and Jens smiles.

“How are you?” Lucas asks breathlessly when they separate, laying his head back on the wall.

“Good.”

Jens leans back in and kisses him harder, biting down on his lip, and a small noise escapes Lucas’s throat, emboldening Jens, and he reaches down, pulling at Lucas’s thighs. Lucas jumps up, wrapping his arms around Jens’s neck and Jens grins against his mouth.

“How are you?” he asks when they pause for a breath and Lucas kisses him again before answering.

“Fantastic.”

Jens laughs softly, pressing him against the wall harder, sliding his hands up and down his legs before tightening his grip on him as Lucas licks into his mouth.

“Long week?”

“Mm.”

When they finally pull away enough to look at each other, their faces are flushed, their lips slick, their eyes glassy. They gaze at each other for a second before giggling, their foreheads pressed together. Lucas’s ankles are locked at the small of Jens’s back, and his fingers are tangled in his hair. He gently tugs and Jens lifts his head enough for Lucas to kiss him gently.

“Where are we going?”

“Uhm…” He takes a deep breath before answering. “A cafe. We’re gonna get cake.”

Lucas gasps excitedly, raising his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jens feels like he’s glowing.

Lucas kisses him again, beaming.

#ta da #hopefully the next one will be up this weekend #anyway i love you guys thank you for being patient w me im rly so grateful #i hope youre all doing well and if youre not pls pls message me if you want to chat #i love you #wtfock #wtfock fic #skam nl #skam nl fic #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #jens and lucas #van der stoffels #vds #vds fic #say my name and say it twice #cotton candy skies #cotton candy skies always look better in person

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

In their Place Ch. 2

Chapter 2: As Blue as Can Be

Summary: Damien isn’t acting normally and that concerns everyone.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

“Marc?”

Silver was groggily coming back to consciousness.

“Marc?”

Silver woke up, head pounding, and his ears ringing as he reached that he was still on his back with a thin view to the skylight overhead.

It took him a few groggy minutes to realize who had said his name, it was Dark!

Immediately Silver shot away, floating a bit off the ground, Dark looked surprised. He also looked completely like Damien.

Silver looked to see his mask ripped to pieces right next to where he had been laying.

“How do you know my name?” Silver demanded.

“How are you doing that?” Dark asked in surprise, his voice sounding normal, as if he really was Damien.

“No, answer the question,” Silver demanded, flying a little closer.

Dark took a couple steps back, looking at the hero as if he was crazy. “Marc, we’ve been friends for years. Of course I know your name.”

“We’re not friends!” Silver shouted. “You’re an asshole. You sold us out.”

“Don’t yell at me!” Dark shouted back. “You and Celine having issues does not mean you can take it out on me.”

“The hell are you even talking about?” Mark spat. “Who do you think I am?”

Dark looked at him, “Marcus Iplier, you’re my brother-in-law.”

Mark felt a little bit of relief, he didn’t actually know his name, he’d just gotten lucky. “Okay, okay,” he interrupted. “I think you’re confused. I’m not who you think I am. I’m tapped out for today. I’ll go home, you go home; and we forget this ever happened.”

For a brief moment Dark looked worried before he gave such an amused smile before he gave such a startlingly honest chuckle that it actually made Mark think he was dreaming. A chuckle that turned into a full on laugh.

Never, not even once while Dark was pretending to be mayor, did Dark laugh. Damien, even before he’d been revealed as Dark’s primary host, tended to act like a tightly coiled spring. So he gave half-smiles, and wry chuckles.

But that laugh was something else. It was almost a light cackle. But there was just something so genuine about it that Mark became aware that he wasn’t looking at Dark.

This was Damien.

He wasn’t looking at Dark.

“Okay, okay,” Damien seemed to calm down, a smile still on his face. “You got me, you got me. For a second there you had me worried. I’ll bite, I’ll play along. Why are you floating?”

“I’m, uh, a superhero,” Mark told him, trying to figure out what to do with Damien when he wasn’t Dark.

“A what?” Damien reflexively smiled. Mark was shocked by how genuine that smile was.

“A superhero, you know?” Mark answered. “Like from the comics? I’m kinda like Superman, I can fly and lift stuff.”

Damien waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. His smile became a little sadder. “If it’s just Legionnaire business you can tell me that and just move on. I’m not bitter anymore.”

“I don’t work for them,” Mark tried to insist.

The mayor sighed, looking away from him and up to the ceiling. “How’s Celine? I haven’t seen her since she . . .” Damien looked at Marc uneasily. “Since the baby, you know.”

Mark wanted to shake Damien and demand that he make at least some kind of sense. But after a long pause he decided, “Look, I’m not who you think I am. I’m not whichever Mark you’re thinking of. I don’t know Celine personally, she’s tried to put her axe through my chest a couple times but I don’t really know her.”

“Don’t know her?” Damien repeated in confusion. “You’ve been married for five years, you should know her by now. I get that grief can change a person but I’d be there to help if I could.”

“Grief?” Mark asked.

“The baby,” Damien tried to remind. “Last I heard she was excited about the baby.”

“I’m not the one with kids,” Mark continued. “You are.”

Suddenly Damien was furious, “That isn’t funny Marc. You’re an asshole but you’ve never been cruel. Stop it.”

“It’s true, I don’t have kids, I’m not married, we’re not friends,” Mark told him. “Did you shoot up before you let Dark take you for a fucking spin today?”

“This joke isn’t funny anymore,” Damien warned, and that anger was starting to look a touch familiar.

“I’m not your brother-in-law,” Mark repeated.

“That’s it, I’m getting a light,” Damien started patting himself down. “Where are they?”

Then he reached into his coat and took out his carton of cigarettes and quickly pulled one out and started looking for a lighter, getting increasingly frustrated the longer he couldn’t find it. “Where is it?

Finally Damien groaned loudly and looked back at Mark. “Marc, can I borrow a light?”

“I’m not the Mark you think I am, and I don’t smoke so I don’t have anything to help you with that,” Mark told him.

Damien let out an angry groan and walked over to the other side of the space and sat down on the ground. He started massaging his temples and Mark heard his communicator crackle to life.

“Hey Silv,” Jackie’s voice crackled out. “Everythin’[1] alright?”

“No,” Mark commented. “I’m here with Mr. Mayor, I think we beat Dark out of him. I can’t see Dark or Celine anywhere.”

“What do yah mean yeh beat Dark off ‘a him?”[2] Jackie demanded.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there,” Marvin said.

Damien was staring at him, “You’ve gotten better at magic.”

“I’m shit at magic,” Silver reminded pointedly.

The mayor let out an amused scoff, “You live with Celine, compared to her, everyone’s shit at magic.”

He’d just tried to tell a joke. But by his face he clearly expected Mark to find it at least a bit funny. Which absolutely floored Mark.

Mark would have commented, but when Damien moved his hands from his temples and just earlier his neck had been pristine. But now there were black bruises on Damien’s neck, the mayor was absentmindedly rubbing at them which is when Mark realized, grimly, that they were in the shape of handprints.

“What happened to your neck?” Mark asked.

“Is there something on it?” Damien stood up, massaging it. “It feels kinda[3] sore.”

“Kinda,” Mark took a couple steps forward and watched the bruises fade. “Does it hurt?”

Damien cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “No, but it feels strange. Mayhaps I’m just coming down with something.”

“Yeah, may—” Mark agreed.

He was cut off when a blast of magic slammed into Damien and knocked him to the ground, Marvin flying in, “Don’t move, fooker[4]!”

“I finally had him calm!” Mark shouted, watching Jackie and Patton run over as well.

“Yeh[5] don’t trust demons,” Marvin reminded, charging up another blast as Damien braced his arms over his face.

Patton stood in front of Damien, staring at Marvin.

“Get outta[6] the way, Cap!” Marvin shouted.

“No!” Patton seemed to widen his stance a bit to stabilize himself for a fight. “Stop it.”

“Give me one good reason,” Marvin ordered.

“He’s afraid,” Patton said, his tone even and calm. Then he looked back at Damien who was bleeding from the nose and was trying to stop it. “You scared him.”

“He’s Dark, he deserves ta be scared ‘a me,”[7] Marvin commented.

Patton was already kneeling down next to Damien who flinched when Patton got closer. The emotional Side pulled a handkerchief out and knelt down a little to hand it out to Damien. “Here you go, kiddo.”

Damien watched him for a bit before taking a bit. “Thank you, I seem to have misplaced mine.”

When he tilted his head up to stem the bleeding Patton began coaxing him to point his head back down. An action that got the empathetic Side funny looks from the mayor but the man did so.

“See?” Patton gestured to Damien. “He’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s a trap, an’ yeh know it,”[8] Marvin insisted. “We can’t trust that lyin’ demonic fooker as far as Anxiety can throw him.”[9]

“I am not a demon!” Damien shouted, clearly insulted.

“We’re not supposed to hurt people,” Patton reminded. “The hunters do that. The demons do that, but not us.”

“No hold up,” Damien continued as he glared at Marvin. “I might not be the most perfect person in the world, but I am not a demon.”

“Yeh’ve been lettin’ one walk around in yer skin,”[10] Marvin accused.

“Even if that was true the Legionnaires would kill me before I even got out the front door,” Damien fired back.

“You have been, and you’ve been the worst,” Mark chimed in.

“Don’t make this worse, Marc,” Damien ordered.

“It’s true,” Mark told him.

“Prove it!” Damien dared.

“Okay, fine,” Mark pulled out his phone and unlocked it, starting to scroll through his camera roll.

Damien was just staring at the phone, a look that got even more confused when Mark showed him a video of Damien, Mark’s voice from somewhere in the device.

“Have anything to say, asshat?” Mark asked.

“Get that thing out of my face, you want a news story, get a press badge,” Damien heard himself demand, a shrill ringing in the background.

“Nah, this is for me, just a friendly conversation between friends,” Mark reassured.

“What is this?” Damien asked in awe, tapping the screen. “Is it making that noise itself? Did you get it from the Legionnaires?”

“It’s my phone?” Mark reminded. “I know you’ve got a couple bricks but you have to have seen one before. Illinois has one.”

“A phone?” Damien asked, absolutely confused. “That’s not a phone, it’s too small. I didn’t know magic could alter technology like that.”

Mark just stared at him, pieces clicking together. “Damien what year do you think it is?”

“Uhh,” Damien paused. “1928?”

“What?” Marvin stared at Damien in surprised. “Stop fookin’[11] with us.”

“Have you even been conscious while Dark was controlling you?” Mark wondered out loud.

“Who’s Dark?” Damien asked.

The heroes all stared at Damien in horror.

“Oh fook,[12] he’s serious,” Jackie realized.

“You’ve been under the control of a demon that has been ruling this town for years,” Mark approached slowly, scared of startling the mayor. “We’ve been fighting him and we only just learned about you a couple years ago. We had no idea you weren’t willingly working with him.”

“I would never work with a demon,” Damien argued desperately.

“He must have done something to you,” Mark explained.

“Is he still here?” Damien asked. “Get him out.”

“Is that permission?” Marvin asked, excited.

“Yes, hell yes,” Damien told him.

Marvin summoned up a chair and pulled a piece of chalk out of his sleeve. “Great, then we can find Celine an’ Dark will be magically cut off at the ankles.”[13]

“Where’s Celine?” Damien asked, the worry thick in his voice as he stepped into the circle Marvin was drawing, runes and magical symbols leading to the chair.

“We were kinda hoping you’d tell us,” Silver admitted. “She tends to disappear and we can never find her.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help find her,” Damien promised.

When Marvin was done with the circle he placed his hands on the circle and started chanting.

Almost immediately Damien felt like his body was trying to explode from the pain, his whole body locked up and he started screaming in agony. Something in him felt like it was slamming against a brick wall and unable to escape. It only got more painful. He could taste blood in his mouth and he reflexively coughed it up.

Before he could black out from the pain, Patton rushed forward.

“Stop! Stop!” Patton called out, disrupting the spell as he broke the circle.

“Patton, I almost had him,” Marvin spat.

“He was bleeding,” Patton reminded. “You were hurting him.”

Marvin turned and kicked a piece of rubble. “Why didn’t it work? He’s not fightin’ us.”[14]

“Something that painful should have worked because I don’t want to do it again,” Damien groaned weakly, clutching his chest as Patton knelt beside him.

The heroes just standing or sitting where they were to think of what to do with Damien next.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Everything

2. What do you mean you beat Dark off ofhim?

3. kind of

4. fucker

5. you

6. out of

7. He’s Dark, he deserves to be scared of me

8. It’s a trap, and you know it

9. We can’t trust that lying demonic fucker as far as Anxiety can throw him.

10. You’ve been letting one walk around in your skin

11. fucking

12. fuck

13. Great, then we can find Celine and Dark will be magically cut off at the ankles.

14. Why didn’t it work? He’s not fighting us.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Markiplier Who Killed Markiplier?#Markiplier #Jacksepticeye #Thomas Sanders #Silver Shepherd #Darkiplier #wkm Damien #Marvin the Magnificent #Patton Sanders #Jackieboy Man #memory problems #past Actor/Celine #misunderstanding #magic #angst

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