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topgun-imagines · 11 months

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Something In The Orange

Requested: no

Summary: When Mav pulls Bradley’s papers, you have no idea. You only find out when your boyfriend dissapears in the middle of the night.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, handjob, oral sex (male & fem!receiving) fingering, penetrative sex, foul language, loss of virginity, angst, break ups, crying, fights, insecurity, complicated relationships, drifting apart. Please let me know if I missed anything! 18+

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Bradley was the first person that you ever really loved. The two of you had met during your junior year of high school. Ever since then, the two of you had become inseparable. You finally started dating the summer before your senior year. Bradley had applied to USNA and you had a scholarship to go to law school in Texas. Even though you had only been together for just over a year, you felt like you would spend the rest of your life with Bradley.

Now, you were riding shotgun in Bradley’s blue Bronco. You were on the way back to his house. His fingers were intertwined with yours as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your knuckles as he shut the truck off. Hopping down, he rounded the front of the truck and opened your door for you.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the door. The house that he, Mav, and Ice were staying in had light blue siding and a large white front porch. There was an American flag hanging from the roof of the porch and a large elm tree in the middle of the unfenced yard. Ever since Carole passed a few months ago, Mav and Bradley had been staying with Ice.

You were quiet as you slipped into the darkness of the house. The two of you giggled quietly as Bradley led you up the stairs and into his bedroom. The sound of the door clicking softly behind you mixed with your laboured breaths was all that could be heard in the tiny room.

Tonight was finally going to be the first time that you and Bradley had sex. And while Bradley had some experience in this field, you had no idea what you were doing.

Bradley’s hands settled on the side of your face as his lips moulded together with yours. You melted into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth when it traced the seam of your lips. A quiet, high-pitched whine escaped you as his tongue tangled with yours.

He pulled away a few seconds later, laughing quietly as his forehead knocked against yours. “You gotta be quiet baby.” There was a sheepish smile on your face as a blush crept up your chest. Mav and Ice were right down the hall. You didn’t need them to hear anything of what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Bradley’s mouth went bone dry at the sight of you sinking onto your knees. You stared up at him as you brought one hand up to palm him through his jeans. He tossed his head back in a moan as you squeezed him softly.

Your boyfriend was panting when he looked back down. Slowly, you started to pull the zipper of his fly down. Then, as if you were teasing him, you popped the button on his jeans before dragging the material down his legs. That left him standing in front of you in nothing but his boxers. The sight made your mouth water.

With wide eyes, you glanced up at Bradley. He nodded encouragingly and sucked in a sharp breath when you began dragging his boxers down his legs.

His cock slapped against his stomach as you pulled the fabric down. There was a look of concertation on your face as you reached a hand up and gripped the base of his dick. It was one that Bradley had seen so many times before, usually when you had your nose hurried in a book. This time, however, was much less innocent.

You began moving your hand up and down his length, stroking him until he was fully hard.

By the time you were satisfied, there was a few drops of precum leaking from the head of his cock. The tip was an angry red colour. The whole time your hand was moving over him, you had been transfixed by the sound of his desperate moans and whimpers.

Bradley noticed the hesitant look in your eyes as you stared at the way his hips bucked in desperation. His hand settled against the soft skin of your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You instantly began shaking your head. You wanted this.

Sucking in a shaky breath, you steeled yourself before tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock once more. You gripped him firmly, leaning forward until your breath was ghosting across his tip.

When Bradley felt your puckered lips press a soft kiss to the crown of his cock, he had to stop himself from cursing aloud. You slowly began to grow more confident. Eventually, you were licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, slipping the plush head inside your mouth afterward. That time, Bradley did curse.

You began suckling on the first few inches of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you began bobbing your head up and down, trying to recall any tips or tricks you had heard from your friends.

Bradley groaned above you, head tossed back against the door as his hand wove into your hair. A surprised moan vibrated from your mouth and through his cock when he tugged on your roots. Your tongue traced the vein on the bottom of his cock as you pushed yourself further and further down him until you were gagging around his length.

A choked gasp escaped him as he pulled you off his length. Bradley was panting as your hand continued to move slowly up and down his shaft. There was a devilish look in your eyes as your hand trailed down to his balls. You grinned as you squeezed softly, rolling them around in your hand.

“Get up, Honey,” His eyes were hooded, pleasure clouding the now-dark irises. You obeyed, standing before him as his hands gripped your hips. Harsh enough to leave bruises. You slipped your shirt over your head, grinning at the way Bradley’s eyes were focused on your tits. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look in his eyes when he made eye contact with you. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

You allowed Bradley to lead you back toward the bed. Your knees hit the back of the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft sheets. Bradley knelt between your spread legs. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the hungry look in his eyes.

Before you knew it, Bradley was slipping your shorts down your legs. Your breathing grew heavy as he began peppering kisses over the supple skin of your thighs. He kissed his way up to your center, leaving delicate purple marks in his wake.

Soft moans escaped you as he began to press gentle kisses over your clothed cunt. The cotton slowly soaked through.

Bradley looked up at you, eyes silently asking if you were sure about this. When you nodded your head softly, he grinned. Seconds later, the fabric was being dragged down your legs slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh.

The next thing you knew his lips were wrapped around your clit, causing your hips to buck wildly off the bed. You moaned loudly. Bradley's eyes darted up to yours, a cocky smirk on his face. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He reprimanded you gently.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Bradley ate you out like a starved man. He had your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand gripping your leg while the other pinned your hips to the bed.

You did your best to control your moans, even going as far as biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet. Bradley’s tongue laved over your dripping hole. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips at the feeling of him slipping his tongue into your hole.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. The feeling kept building and building, so much so until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, the feeling disappeared completely. “I want to cum around me.” His words alone we’re almost enough to send you over the edge.

He slowly crawled up your body, hands skimming gently over your soft skin. His hard cock brushed against your lower abdomen as he settled on top of you. You grinned up at him and he gave you a reassuring smile in return.

Bradley pressed a plethora of kisses to the side of your neck. Pleasured gasps tumbled from your mouth as your back arched off the bed. “Condom,” You moaned out. “Bradley get a condom.”

Feeling his body weight disappear for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for him to return. When you felt the bed dip beside you, a flush began rising up your chest. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the sight of Bradley kneeling above you, fisting his cock slowly. You moaned at the sight, watching as he rolled the condom down his length.

Nerves filled you as Bradley lowered himself onto you. “You ready baby?” You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. When it swiped over your clit you let out a sinful moan. Bradley groaned at the sound.

He stared deep into your eyes, reassurance shining through. Slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself into you. Your lips parted in a silent scream, suddenly overwhelmed by the intrusion. Bradley lowers himself down, cradling you to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your damp hair.

Before you knew it, Bradley was seated balls deep inside of you. You panted harshly at the stretch, eyes screwing shut at the foreign feeling. “Tell me when.” Your boyfriend's voice was low and raspy as he fought his hardest to restrain himself. You were clenching so beautifully around him that he almost lost it the second he slid in. You nodded distractedly, willing the slight discomfort away.

After a few minutes, you nodded softly. “Please just,” You murmured quietly, still trying to catch your breath. “Just be gentle.” Bradley smiled down at you. You knew that he would, you just needed to remind him.

Bradley began slowly rocking into you, only slipping out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned at the feeling, eyes rolling back as his tip brushed against a spot so deep inside you it made you want to cry.

The only sounds that could be heard in the small bedroom were the sounds of yours and Bradley’s joint moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your boyfriend's hips rutted into yours quickly, drawing cry after cry from your parted and cracked lips.

Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Bradley let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock.

The feeling from earlier returned. You could feel the hot white pressure building, a coil tightening more and more with each of his sharp thrusts. You hardly noticed the way his pace grew sloppy. His warm breath fanned across the skin of your neck as you arched off the bed.

The sound of Bradley letting out a high-pitched whine had you gripping his cock like a vice. “Please Bradley,” You begged breathlessly. “‘M gonna cum,” Bradley nodded, eyes screwed shut as his hand drifted down to your core. “Fuck!” You exclaimed at the feeling of his fingers circling your clit in tight, precise patterns.

That coil was winding tighter and tighter, right up until one final nudge of his cock against that little spongy spot inside you sent you falling quickly over the edge. Bradley followed close behind, hot spurts of cum filling the condom as your cunt milked him dry. He continued to rock into you, working the pair of you through your intense highs.

He stilled inside of you a few seconds later. The pair of you continued panting as you wound your arms around his back. You stared up at the ceiling, a blissed-out grin on your face. you were so glad that you and Bradley had finally done that. All the nerves and worries from earlier had disappeared completely once Bradley first slipped in.

That blissed-out smile soon turned into a wince when he slipped out of you. He crawled off of you and dropped the used condom into the trash can. Bradley disappeared to the washroom. You followed on shaky legs. Bradley stood in front of the toilet, finishing his business before stepping over to the sink.

You sat down on the toilet and shot him a lazy grin. Once you were finished you flushed the toilet, cringing slightly at the sight of blood in the bowl. You had heard that that could happen but it didn’t make you any more comfortable.

Hand in hand, you and Bradley made your way back toward the bed, collapsing onto it in a fit of giggles. You snuggled together under the covers, your head resting on Bradley’s sweaty chest and his arm tucked under your shoulders.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, the post-sex haze making you feel sleepy. You tucked yourself under Bradley's chin, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I love you, baby girl,” You heard him whisper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. “Please don't ever forget that.” You hummed quietly, murmuring something along the same lines. Your words were slurred as you allowed sleep to pull you under.

“I love you too, Brad.”

The roar of Mav’s motorcycle was what woke you up in the morning. You stretched with a yawn, frowning when you felt the empty bed. You sat up, blinking quickly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. There was an orange glow streaming through the bedroom window and a quick glance at the clock told you it was just before 6 o’clock.

You got dressed slowly, guessing that Bradley and Ice were sitting downstairs having breakfast. However, the house was eerily quiet. Usually, when you stayed the night, you were woken by sloppy kisses being peppered across your face or the sound of Maverick and Ice laughing downstairs.

As you headed down the stairs, you continued to grow confused. You couldn’t even hear the scraping of utensils against plates. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when you found Ice sitting at the counter alone. He had a note clutched in his hands.

“Ice?” The sound of your voice caused his head to whip up. There was a sadness in his eyes, one that suddenly made you question why Mav sped off so fast this morning. “What’s going on?”

You sat down across from him, eyes the paper in his hand suspiciously. “Morning kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.

Worry grew in the pit of your stomach. “Where did Mav go? And,” You paused, glancing around the room in search of your boyfriend. “Where’s Bradley?” Ice almost didn’t want to tell you what happened.

He sighed, glancing between the note and your curious and oblivious eyes. “Look kiddo,” The Capitan started. He really didn’t know how to explain it to you in a way that wouldn’t destroy you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that that was possible. “Just, just read this.” He handed the paper to you. It appeared as if had been crumpled and balled up multiple times. There were dark spots that you guessed had come from tears.

The letter was addressed to you and Ice. You found it odd that there was no mention of Mav. As you read through it, any hope that you had that everything was going to be okay died. It was from Bradley, explaining that due to the recent actions of Maverick, he couldn’t stand to live anywhere near Ice or Mav. He didn’t want them to have any say in what he did with his life. Nowhere in the letter did it explain why he wanted that.

“So,” You choked out, staring at the letter as you spoke to Ice. “What is this supposed to mean?” You stared at him, hands beginning to shake and tears welling in your eyes.

The older man stared at you with sympathy. “Bradley left last night,” A sob bubbled out of your chest. “Oh honey,” He cooed, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Mav did something stupid and Bradley decided to leave,” His hand moved up and down your beck softly. “It’s not your fault.” He promised quietly.

You pulled back, breathing fast and hiccuping as you tried to calm yourself down. “Please Ice,” you practically begged him. “Please tell me that you’re kidding?” There was a sad smile on his face. You broke down into tears once again. “No,” You gasped out. You could feel your heart pounding on the inside of your skull. “He wouldn’t leave. Not after last night.” The reminder of what happened last night froze you in your tracks.

How could he do that after what happened last night? he knew how important that was for you. Apparently, it didn’t mean as much to him. Out of all the ways that you would have guessed this morning would go, either eating breakfast with your boyfriend’s makeshift family or sneaking out when no one was looking, you never thought that Bradley would have disappeared in the middle of the night. You never imagined waking up to find out that your boyfriend had left you without a goodbye after the night that you had spent together.

You had been there for him when Carole passed, holding him for weeks after he dealt with the loss of his mother. And now, he couldn’t even say goodbye or explain to you why he was leaving. There was hardly even a mention of you in the note he left. You thought that you at least meant a little more to him than that.

“What happened last night?” Ice’s question drew you out of your daydream. You shook your head. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Ice could stop you, you were rushing to the backyard, pacing around the deck as you sucked in laboured breaths.

The sliding door closed softly behind you, alerting you to the man's presence. Ice took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were suddenly so distraught.

A humourless laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to feel embarrassed about what you were about to admit, too consumed with a mixture of worry and betrayal. “We slept together last night. For the first time.” It was hardly a whisper and in the background noise of Miramar waking up, it was almost drowned out completely. And yet, Ice still heard you loud and clear. He heard the tremble in your voice as you spoke and he saw the way your hands shook.

Ice remained silent, watching as you stopped pacing. You set your hands on your hips, staring out over the fence at the rising sun. With a sigh, the Capitan stood from his seat and walked over behind you. “I just can’t believe he would leave.” You whispered brokenly. Bradley meant the world to you. It sucked learning that you didn’t mean enough for him to stay.

The pair of you stood on the edge of the deck in silence, Ice’s arm wound around your shoulders as he tried to comfort you. “I know,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell down your face in steady streams as you came to terms with what happened.

Bradley had left. And as you stared at the orange hue tinting the sky, you knew that he was never coming home. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Ice held you as you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.

You spent the rest of the summer trying to move on from Bradley. It didn’t work, you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope in your mind that one day Bradley would come home. He never did, and so, in the fall, you boarded a plane for Texas. Ice had dropped you off. He saw the distant and longing look in your eye. The spark that had once been there had now died.

While you were away, you and Ice kept in contact. You hardly spoke to Mav. Ever since Bradley had left, the man that had once been like a father to you wanted nothing to do with you. Ice could have told you why but honestly, you didn’t want to know. Bradley hadn’t even bothered trying to contact you. You didn’t know whether you appreciated that he stayed gone, or if you resented him for ever leaving in the first place. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you knew it was closer to the second option.

Years later you graduated law school and went on to become a lawyer. Time went on and eventually, you didn’t think of Bradley every day. There were some days when the memory would pop up again, reminding you of all the pain you left behind. Each time it happened, you wished that you could forget everything about that small town. But, you could never be able to forget Bradley Bradshaw. After all, he was the first man you ever loved.

a/n: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ☺️ requests are open.

Tagging: @topguncultleader @t0kyoreveng3rs @soulmates8 @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @genius2050 @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @anglebabyange @oliviah-25

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Maybe It’s A Sign

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 9.3k+

Warnings: alcohol, implied age difference, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

Summary: You and Mando have been driving across America together for months. You're happy to be with him but part of you longs for something more.

A/N: I don’t really know the time period for this, probably like anything pre-2010s. There’s no use of y/n and let me know if I missed a warning :)

Read it on AO3

The breeze from the open truck window is cool against your heated skin. It's your only relief as the sun beats down on you through the windshield, the busted A/C offering no help. You're headed down some freeway in the middle of nowhere America, riding shotgun in an old beat-up truck that's seen better days.

You've been keeping your eyes on the flat landscape surrounding you, watching as field after field passes you by. They really weren't joking when they'd named them the Great Plains. Music filters through the air, some classic rock song you've heard a thousand times before. You still hum along mindlessly, enjoying the small amount of entertainment.

Bored of the vast sameness outside your window, your eyes drift over to your companion, driver, and owner of the truck. Mando. You study him, finding him far more interesting than the fields outside.

His worn baseball cap has been pushed up, presumably from scratching his scalp underneath and not bothering to fix it. Soft brown curls peek out around the edges of the hat. He has his sunglasses on and his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead, as they should be. The patchy scruff along his jawline has grown out a bit from your recent days on the road and you can see a few gray hairs mixed in with his darker natural color.

He shrugged off his jacket earlier in the day, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt that hugged his lean muscles all just right. His faded blue jeans are on and you wonder how he can stand to wear them in the oppressive summer heat. You gave into shorts days ago.

All in all, he was a far better sight than anything outside the truck. As you look him over, you muse how everything he owns seems to be worn in. His rusty truck, his old hat, his distressed clothes. They all carry a sense of being lived in, nothing new and shiny on him. Well, except for his jewelry. His silver necklace and rings always shine brightly, a dramatic contrast to the rest of him.

"Stop staring," Mando suddenly says, breaking you from your observation of him. You're a little embarrassed to have been caught, but you aren't going to let him know that.

"Why? Nothin' else to look at around here."

That rewards you with a chuckle. At least he isn't irritated by your staring then.

"Don't you have a book or something?"

You look over at the book you had thrown on the dashboard. A used copy of Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger that you picked up a couple states back. You aren't sure you like Holden, but it's a good read at least. "Yeah, but I can't read it for long before I start feeling sick. So I guess I'll just have to look at you instead."

"Sure that I won't make you sick?" Mando teases.

You smile. He's in a good mood today. There are days where conversation with him is like pulling teeth, but it makes days like today all the more worth it.

"Nah, you aren't so hard on the eyes." You say it cool and casual, genuine but not needy. As though you don't often think of his looks when you have the time and privacy to satisfy your needs.

Mando shakes his head slightly but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Sure, sweetheart."

He never seems to believe you when you compliment his appearance. It breaks your heart a little. Sure, he has some years on you, but you aren't blind. You know a good-looking man when you see one and Mando? He was it. If the man wasn't oblivious, he'd notice the looks plenty of women and some men throw him when he strolls into town.

Not sure of what to say next, but not wanting the conversation to end, you take to a habit that's been slowly forming over your months with him. It had begun out of boredom one day, but continued due to a desperate urge to learn anything and everything your mysterious companion will tell you about himself.

"When's your birthday?"

Mando isn't surprised anymore by your random questions. "May eighteenth."

Your eyes go wide at his answer. It was July now, meaning he'd let the day come and go without telling you. You had just assumed his birthday hadn't come around with you yet. "Mando! Why didn't you tell me? I would have at least said something if I had known."

He shrugs. "Birthdays aren't a big deal where I grew up."

"Were you raised Jehovah's Witness or something?" you ask.

"No, nothing like that." His fingers drum slightly on the steering wheel. You noticed a while ago that he did that when you got close to something he didn't want to talk about. His childhood always seems to be a touchy subject.

You want to know more, want to learn all of his secrets, but you don't want to jeopardize his good mood. Mando had shared bits and pieces of those more intimate details with you over your shared months with him, but always on his own time. His own terms. You won't push it now. Instead, you pivot to something more innocuous.

"If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

You're surprised when he barely takes any time to consider the question before answering. "Tacos."

You raise an eyebrow. "Tacos? I took you for more of a burger and fries kind of guy."

"Nothing compares to a good authentic taco from down by the border." He says it with such confidence that you can do nothing other than believe him.

"I wouldn't know," you say.

Mando cocks an eyebrow at you now. "We'll have to fix that then."

A warm flush runs through your body at his words. You know he isn't looking to get rid of you, but hearing him make plans for the future with you, no matter how tentative, makes you happier than you care to admit. Small promises that you know he'll make good on eventually given the time and opportunity.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Easy. A full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast. Doesn't matter how they're cooked or the specific options, you can't go wrong."

You stretch yourself out in the cab as you answer, throwing your feet up on the dash. Your eyes close for a moment and you miss the way Mando's eyes rake over your extended frame.

"You're never awake for breakfast," Mando comments. He's right. You enjoy your sleep and when left to your own devices you easily dream through breakfast hours.

"That doesn't matter," you retort. "Breakfast food isn't only good in the morning."

You continue that way for a while, gathering small bits of information about him and sharing your own in return. You learn that he prefers hot weather over the cold, soft pillows over firm ones, showers over baths, and most surprisingly that he has a soft spot for musicals. That fact had made you giggle, imagining Mando singing along to The Music of the Night. With all of his mystery, he wouldn't make for a bad Phantom you think.

As the afternoon wears on, you can feel yourself growing tired. Between the warmth of the sun, the lulling rumble of the truck, and the comfortable environment of the cab, you're fighting to keep your eyes open. Mando notices your struggle and reaches a hand out towards you.

You aren't really sure when this began, but you aren't complaining about it. Mando would hold your hand whenever you fell asleep in the truck, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. His hands were rough, callused from years of work, but they felt nice. They felt strong, comforting. In those moments nothing else in the world mattered. And if you thought about his hands later, touching places other than your hands, then that was your business and no one else’s.

You wake up a couple hours later, Mando calling your name to pull you from your sleep. The sun has moved down in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere close to five o’clock. You’d check the time on the radio, but Mando never seemed to bother keeping it right due to regularly changing time zones with all the cross country traveling.

You’re sitting outside of some 24 hour diner on a random roadside. Mando seems to be fond of these little dives, preferring them to any of the big chain restaurants you always pass. Fast food is the only exception to that rule and even that’s rare, these food stops often being one of few chances to stretch your legs when you’re on the road.

“What do you think? Do they have the best pie in America?” you joke, pointing at the sun-worn sign hanging below the restaurant’s name. You can’t count how many ‘best blank in America’ signs you’ve seen at this point. While you can’t credit their authenticity, it usually did mean there was something good waiting for you on the menu.

“I suppose we’ll have to be the judges of that,” Mando replies.

You tug on your socks and shoes that you pulled off earlier in the day and hop out of the truck. The easy conversation and warm nap have you in a great mood, one that makes you a little bolder than you might otherwise be. Walking into the diner, you grab onto Mando’s arm, smiling at him when he looks down at you in surprise. He doesn’t pull away from you though and your heart beats a little bit faster.

The diner has plenty of open seats and you seat yourselves, grabbing one of the booths. The stiff vinyl isn’t the most comfortable, but you can’t say you’re surprised. The place looks like it hasn’t been renovated in a decade. If the smell from the kitchen is anything to go off of though, the food will be just fine.

A waitress comes over to take your orders. She’s exactly what you would imagine a waitress to look like in a diner like this one. Slightly heavyset, a kind face, and a big smile to offer you. “Hi there, what can I get the two of you?” she asks.

“I’ll take a coke, ma’am,” Mando says. He seems oblivious to the flush on the waitress’s cheeks at his baritone.

“I’ll take a coke too.”

“I’ll be right back, folks.”

You reach over to grab a sticky menu from the end of the table. The stickiness grosses you out a little, but it really does add to the ambiance of the place. Your conversation from earlier drifting back into mind, you immediately look for the breakfast section. Perfect. Their ‘two eggs and more’ option is exactly what you were looking for.

The waitress returns with your drinks and takes your orders, Mando getting himself a burger and fries. You smirk at him, taking the wrapper off of your straw. “I thought you said you weren’t a burger and fries kind of guy?”

Mando watches as you carefully make a wrapper worm, dropping the smallest amount of soda on the paper to make it move. “I just said tacos were my favorite, never said I’m a guy who doesn’t enjoy a good burger and fries, sweetheart.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug.

You fall into a comfortable silence together at the table. Silence isn’t an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. When you first joined Mando you talked all the time. Trying to fill up the empty space, feeling like if someone wasn’t talking then the situation was awkward. Slowly you learned though. The silence was never awkward until you made it that way and unless Mando had something to say, he’d stay quiet. He’s not incapable of conversation, he just doesn’t like to force it.

You softly hum a tune that’s been stuck in your head, looking out the diner window and enjoying the sunset. It’s a gorgeous one today, the sky looking like an oil painting with its gradient of colors. The flat plains allow for a good view of it too, only a small building in the distance blocking any part of the horizon. You kick yourself for not picking up that disposable camera at the gas station this morning. The photo would never do it justice, but at least that way you could have a small piece of the gorgeous sky to hold onto.

Plates being set down on the table brings you back down to earth. You happily dig into your meal, pleased to have been right about the quality of food here. Nothing could beat a good meal at a greasy diner. Mando seems to enjoy his burger as well, scarfing it down well before you finish your plate.

He always ate like that and you aren’t sure why. It’s as though he thinks if he doesn’t eat it fast enough then someone is going to come and steal it from him. Early on you’d tried to speed up your eating, feeling awkward every time he finished and was forced to wait on you. Now though, you don’t care. Mando rarely ever stops moving and a meal with you is a time you can be certain that he isn’t doing anything for once. You hope that eventually it might encourage him to actually enjoy his food as well, but that still seems a long way off.

Mando picks at his fries and sips at his coke while you finish up. The waitress comes by to refill the drinks, another flush on her cheeks when Mando thanks her. There must not be many attractive men who roll through here if a simple thanks has her blushing, you think. Poor lady, she seems quite nice.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask Mando between bites of egg and toast.

“Plan?”

“Yes, plan. We’ve been driving west for two days now and you seem to have some destination in mind. So, what’s the plan?” What plan, of course Mando has a plan. He always does. Was it always well thought out or complete? No, but there is never a time where he doesn’t have some sort of plan, some idea of where he’s off to next. You’re the one without plans, content with travelling alongside him.

Before Mando can reply, the waitress returns to the table and clears his now empty plate. “Can we get a slice of your pie?” Mando asks.

“Of course, what flavor would you like?” she replies.

“Whatever flavor you think is best, ma’am.” That garners yet another blush on the waitress’s cheeks. Wow. Things must be really bad around here then. One good-looking customer shouldn’t have that big of an impact on anyone, much less a woman who’s clearly made this job her life’s work.

She leaves and you prompt Mando again. “So? Plan?”

“I’m going to meet someone tonight, pick up a new job. Then we’ll go from there,” he finally tells you.

You aren’t pleased by his half-cryptic half-telling answer. He’s always doing this to you, giving you answers but never quite the whole thing. You bet he already knows what the next job is, he’s just being coy about it for some ridiculous reason.

You decide not to push it and slide your plate over to Mando. There are some hash browns left and he won’t just ask for them despite the fact that you’re clearly done. He doesn’t say thanks, just picks up the fork and shovels them in. This by now is routine too so it doesn’t bother you, but it’s still odd. Mando is just weird about food.

He finishes the last of your meal and the waitress returns with the pie. “Blueberry, winner of the county festival five years running,” she tells you.

You grab a fork and dig in, suddenly finding the room in your stomach for dessert. Best pie in America might be a stretch, but you believe their claim to the best pie in the county. It’s delicious, eliciting a small but satisfied groan from you on the first bite. You go to take a second bite when you realize Mando hasn’t moved yet, he’s just watching you with an expression on his face that you can’t quite make out.

“Earth to Mando?” you say, waving your hand. “Try the pie, it’s delicious.”

He breaks from his stare and takes a piece of the pie. “‘S good,” he says around the mouthful.

You laugh at his terrible manners. “Gross, finish chewing before you talk.”

He doesn’t have a witty retort, but he gives you a grin that makes you feel like you’ve won a million dollars. It’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes, making them just shy of sparkling. Now you really wish you had bought that disposable camera.

Finishing the award-winning dessert, you and Mando go up to the counter to pay. He’s left a tip on the table, a sizable one in your opinion, but you aren’t going to say anything about it. Mando is always leaving big tips at places like these.

You take in the diner for one last moment, not paying attention to Mando’s conversation with the waitress until she says something that catches your ear.

“-shift ends in a half hour.” Did you hear that right? Was she really propositioning Mando right now? Christ, things must be downright desolate around here.

Your heart stops as you wait to hear Mando’s reply. He could easily accept. She’s an attractive woman with that classic middle America charm about her. Any other man would probably take her up on the offer. Would it shatter your heart into a million pieces if Mando did? Most likely. But do you have any right to feel that way? Most likely not.

Mando isn’t tied to you, at least not in that way, and he’s certainly still a man. You haven’t known him to chase after any women the whole time you’ve been with him, but surely he has needs and the waitress is beautiful and willing. You wouldn’t be able to fault him for it.

“I’m flattered, but the lady here and I need to be getting back on the road,” Mando says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You do your best to keep your face neutral, not wanting to come off as rude while also trying not to make it obvious the way your heart swoops at Mando’s reply. You know he doesn’t mean anything serious by it, but the implication is still very much there.

Embarrassment washes over the poor woman’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…” she trails off, not finishing her thought. You want to feel bad for her, but you can’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You have a good idea of what she assumed. You’ve heard a multitude of mistaken relationships by now between you and Mando. Everything from some kind of family relation, to something more perverted that’s assumed by greasy motel attendants who cast odd glances when you ask for a double instead of a single. It’s never any less uncomfortable.

Mando brushes it off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm, no foul.” The waitress doesn’t blush at his words anymore.

Bill paid, you and Mando leave the diner. His arm leaves you and you climb back into the truck. The radio flickers back to life and neither of you speak. You wish you could know what’s going on inside of his head. Probably just thinking about the next job. That seems like him, always focused on what’s coming next.

You can’t help but be consumed with thoughts of him. Situations like the one with the waitress always left you distracted. There’s no real way to describe your relationship with Mando. You had helped him with a deal and he had helped you with a way out of your one-horse town. Originally neither of you planned on staying together for this long, but at some point Mando stopped asking you where you wanted to go and you stopped asking if he was going to leave.

You’re comfortable around each other, content to drive across America while Mando picks up job after job. At some point your feelings deepened for him, you aren’t exactly sure when, but now you can’t imagine leaving Mando. It’s no longer just about the adventure of it for you. It’s something more, a deeper tie than you’ve ever had to anyone. However, you have no idea if he feels the same way and you don’t intend to find out. Better to love your mystery man from afar then reveal yourself and get left in the dust.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Mando reaches over and turns down the radio. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You’re a bit surprised to hear an apology. After all, he had nothing to really apologize for. The waitress had come onto him, not the other way around. You know Mando isn’t the type to flat out refuse and insult someone like that. What he had done was… fine. You had hardly even considered it.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Mando,” you tell him. “If anything she did, propositioning you like that.”

A small, relieved smile works its way across his face. “It was quite bold.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m not surprised, she was sizing you up since we walked in.”

“She was not,” Mando argues.

You shift in your seat to face him. “Are you kidding? You really didn’t notice her blushing every time you spoke to her?” If Mando was this oblivious maybe you didn’t need to worry about him catching onto you.

“Now you’re just lying, sweetheart.”

“Am not. You just don’t pay attention.”

Mando rolls his eyes and turns the radio back up. He mumbles something but you can’t make it out. You let it slide and allow yourself to relax. Your hand falls to the center of the bench seat as you look out the window. The stars are coming out now, another gorgeous sight in the vast expanse of the sky. So far away from the city, it feels like you can see every pinprick of light the universe has to offer. It’s a bit disorienting honestly. Nothing makes you feel smaller by comparison and yet, you don’t really mind.

You startle as something wraps around your hand. Looking down, you realize that it’s just Mando, holding your hand as he does when you’re close to falling asleep in the truck. You look up at him, confused. You aren’t anywhere close to nodding off. He should know that, so why…?

Mando doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. His thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand. You relax into his touch, turning your eyes back to the stars. Confusion about Mando’s actions doesn’t compare to the way your stomach flips at his gentle touch. It feels nice, domestic almost, if one can consider a life lived out of the front seat of a rusted out pickup domestic. His hand doesn’t leave yours until he pulls into the pothole filled parking lot of some dive bar.

Mando parks and turns the truck off. You move to get out of the truck with him when he squeezes your hand to stop you.

“Stay in the truck,” Mando says. His hand leaves you and he opens his own door, jumping out onto the cracked asphalt.

You look over at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? You know I am old enough to go in there, right?”

“I know. Stay in the truck.” Mando closes the truck door, giving you no more room to argue with him. It pisses you off.

What is this? Soften you up by holding your hand only to leave you behind? You hate when he does this, treating you like a child that’s just tagging along with him. You suppose you are tagging along, which stings a bit more, but you could be helpful, useful even if he would just let you in. Instead he keeps you at arm’s length at times, treating you like you can’t take care of yourself. He has no right to boss you around like that, telling you where you can and can’t go.

You watch his figure enter the bar, temper rising. If this place was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for you. A bar like this had been where you met Mando months ago, working as a bartender and server. It didn’t bring back the best of memories, but you can handle yourself. At worst a fight might break out or patrons might get a little handsy. You can avoid the first and as for the second, it’s not as though Mando would need to put someone in the hospital for getting a little too flirty with you.

After fuming in the truck for a couple minutes, you make up your mind. You look yourself over in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance to look like you hadn't just spent the last two days in a truck. Pleased with yourself, you pull your shirt down slightly to reveal a bit more cleavage. The discovery of the power a pair of tits held in dive bars was one you made a long time ago. You flip the mirror back up and get out of the truck.

You practice your walk as you approach the bar door, trying to keep it calm and confident. Mando is going to be pissed at you for this, you already know, but you refuse to be treated like a child. If coming in here without his permission is what it takes for him to view you differently, then so be it. Younger you might be, but incapable you are not.

The moment you walk in the door, you spot Mando. He’s in the corner, talking to someone with his back to the door. He doesn’t even notice as you walk in and stroll up to the bar.

The man behind the counter is old, his white shirt spotted with stains and a towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s almost too stereotypical a look and you want to laugh. The stiff look he gives you though stifles your amusement.

“What can I get you?” he asks gruffly as you take a seat at the bartop.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Whiskey is not your favorite drink. Not by a long shot. Really, you would have loved to order something fruity that you can’t taste the alcohol in, but whiskey is something you’ve learned to tolerate. You know that appearances matter in a place like this and a fruity drink would mark you as someone lost, not as someone who belongs here. You aren’t looking to get trashed anyway, just something to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t take long before someone is sidling up next to you at the bar. You don’t acknowledge him right away, instead staring up at the small CRT TV that’s playing the local news above the bar. Some murder case from a couple towns over is currently being highlighted. Lovely.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks you.

You glance over at him, enough to get a look, but you don’t let your eyes linger. Lingering eyes would mean an invitation that you certainly don’t want to give. You have to admit, as far as seedy dive bar men went, he isn’t hard to look at. Not much older than you, clean shaven, bright blue eyes. Another time you might have gone for someone like him. Not now. These days your thoughts are only occupied by scruff, dark hair, and warm brown eyes.

“Came in for a drink,” you reply simply.

He leans in a bit closer. “Can I buy you another?”

You take a sip of your drink. “I think I’m alright, thanks.”

He pushes in even further, placing a hand on your thigh. This guy didn’t take no for an answer apparently. “Aw, come on now, don’t be that way sweetheart.”

Hearing him call you sweetheart makes you want to punch him more than him touching you does. It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, harsh and manipulative, not the smooth and warm way Mando says it. For a moment, you do seriously consider punching this guy square in the jaw before deciding against it. You came in here to prove a point and not being able to handle a pushy guy would just prove the exact opposite of that.

You turn in your chair to move your thigh away from him. He has the decency to let his hand fall at least. “Don’t call me that,” you tell him.

“Alright then, what do I call you?”

You turn your attention back to the TV. Now they were highlighting a feel good story about an animal adoption from the nearby shelter. Odd shift in tone. You don’t reply to Blue-eyes and hope he gets the message.

“Playing hard to get, that’s fine,” he says. You take another sip of your whiskey. The news shifts to the weather. There’s more warm weather on the way for the next week, no storms in sight. That’ll be nice to drive in you think.

Blue-eyes’ hand returns to your thigh, creeping up higher than it was before. “I don’t mind hard to get, sweetheart.”

That one garners a slap. You do it before you even give it a real thought. It’s a good one at least, making a very solid sound as his head spins. It’s a testament to the bar that no one even spares it a second glance. Blue-eyes turns back to you, furious.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he hisses at you, roughly grabbing your arm.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t take your hand off of her.”

You’ve never been so happy to hear Mando’s voice in your life. Could you handle this guy? Probably. Do you want to? Absolutely not. You know on your own there's a near certain chance you'll end up with bruises before this guy gives up.

Somewhere in your mind you register the very real possibility that Mando is pissed at you right now. You shove it down, choosing to focus on the fact that he did just come to your defense.

Blue-eyes is more stupid then he looks and doesn’t read the very obvious threat Mando poses. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip on you. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, old man?”

You can't say you're surprised when Mando punches him in the face instead of answering the question. You also can’t say that you feel bad about it either. The surprise and hurt of the sudden punch makes Blue-eyes release his grip on you, giving you enough time to move out of the way as Mando moves in. Mando grabs a fistful of Blue-eyes' shirt and pulls the guy in towards his face.

“Do you regret it?” Mando grits out. Blue-eyes sputters something that sounds like an apology and pushes himself away.

Satisfied, Mando now turns on you. You were right, he's pissed. His typically soft, warm eyes are hard on you now as he pulls you away.

You flounder to tell him you haven't paid for your drink but he just ignores you, dragging you out of the bar. If you were smarter, you would think to be a little scared about making a man like Mando mad at you. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with how he's barely even trying to overpower you and yet you couldn't break free of his grip if you tried. You wonder if there's something wrong with you for how much it's turning you on.

Arriving back at the truck, Mando releases his grip. "Get in," he demands.

You do as you're told and climb into the passenger seat as Mando goes around. Nerves finally settle in. Mando would never hurt you, you know that, but he could decide to ditch you somewhere. Whatever this situation is with him, it's far from formal. He has no obligation to you and could easily choose to end it. With the trouble you’ve just caused, you wouldn’t be surprised if this all comes to a swift and sudden end.

As Mando climbs into the cab, you stare down at the floorboards, terrified that he's going to tell you he's dropping you off somewhere and leaving you behind for good. You can't imagine your life without him now. There's nowhere for you to go, nothing for you to do without him. Right back to square one.

He doesn't speak right away, which only makes you more nervous. He peels the truck out of the parking lot, headed back in the direction you came from. You still don't look at him. It's obvious you fucked up and there's nothing you can really say to fix that. Your only hope is that he forgives you.

You're headed back through the small nearby town when he finally speaks. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

You don’t say anything in response. Anything you can come up with sounds childish in your head. The exact opposite of what you'd been trying to prove. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence as an answer.

“Why would you even do something like that? Do you know how stupid that was?” His hands are tight on the wheel, glancing between you and the road as he yells.

You mumble back to him.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He called me sweetheart,” you say a little louder.

“What?” He isn't going to let you off the hook with this and it gets under your skin. Some part of you thought he might be proud of you for smacking that creep and here he is berating you for it.

“He called me sweetheart, alright?” you half-shout.

Mando gives you a confused look, clearly not the answer he was expecting. “Do you- do you have a problem with that?” The heat is still present in his voice, but you can hear a little worry in it now. Shit. This is not what you wanted out of this whole ordeal.

You've never wanted the ground to come up and swallow you more. Why didn’t you just say that you smacked him for touching you? That would have been simple. How do you answer this without making everything weird? No, Mando, I don’t have a problem with that. I smacked him because I only like it when you call me that. Sure. That won’t be weird or awkward at all.

After cursing yourself for a few seconds, you manage a response. “No, I- I just didn’t like it when he said it.”

"Oh." That's Mando's only reply.

You know he's still angry about you coming into the bar, but apparently your answer has sidelined him. If it wasn't so embarrassing, you might even be rejoicing at his reaction. Instead you just feel like a fool.

The silence remains as you pull into a little local motel with the vacancy sign lit up. Mando hands you forty dollars, way more than you need, and tells you to get a room.

Okay. So he isn't getting rid of you… yet.

You barely even listen to the attendant as they tell you they only have one single available for the night. Now is not the time to be arguing about sleeping arrangements. You take the key, room 104, and make your way back to the truck.

You grab your bag from the flatbed and let Mando know the room number. He nods and goes to pull the truck around. You kick yourself as you walk over to the room. Why didn’t you just stay in the truck? Why didn’t you just lie to Mando about your reasons? He’s smart and it won’t take long now for him to put two and two together. Especially if he asks anymore questions.

You have no idea how Mando might react. If learning about your feelings towards him combined with what happened in the bar might be enough to leave you. He’s certainly not cold with you, but you’re not sure you’d call any of his actions romantic either. Holding your hand after the diner today is the closest he’s ever come. You wish you knew what that meant to him. You know what it meant to you.

Mando parks the truck outside of the room as you unlock the door. It’s not a fancy room, just one big square with a bathroom attached. There’s a full bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a small table with a couple chairs. You toss your bag on the table and sit down on the edge of the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t upset, Mando can always see through your lies. Might as well just get this over with.

Nervous, you hide your face in your hands, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. You’re ready to deal with it, but not while actually looking at him. You can’t handle seeing his face as he figures things out; the way he might look at you while he rejects you. Suddenly you feel a wave of sympathy for the waitress earlier today. You hope Mando will let you down easy like he did for her.

You don’t look up when Mando comes into the room. His boots enter your line of vision and you close your eyes. You can’t look at any part of him right now. It’s too painful.

Mando says your name softly and you can sense as he kneels down in front of you. You don’t reply. Gently, he moves your hands away from your face. You still refuse to look at him and he cups your chin, lifting your head up to his.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You wish you could resist, but you can’t. Not when he speaks to you in that soft tone. Not when he calls you that.

You meet his eye and see all the concern and worry he holds there. “I’m sorry, Mando. I should have listened to you.”

His hand slides up to hold your cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I could have at least told you why I didn’t want you coming in with me.”

You’re surprised at his apology. Two apologies he didn’t need to make in one day. This isn’t something you ever expected. You assumed he would still be full of heat and anger, not this careful kindness.

“Why didn’t you want me to come in?” you ask. You need to know the reason, need to know why it is he told you to stay behind. No matter how much the reason might hurt.

Mando sighs. “I didn’t want you to come in because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.”

You pull back out of shock. “What?” Did you hear that correctly? Could that mean what you thought it might?

He takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m a jealous man.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind. There are so many things you want to say, so many questions you want to ask, and yet none of them can find their way out. As a result, you do the only thing you can.

You lean in towards him, slowly, giving him enough time to stop you if he so chooses. He doesn’t though, instead following your lead and moving in closer. You carefully search his eyes for any answers they may hold. Your noses bump and you both pause. “Mando, I-”

He cuts you off. “Din. My name is Din.”

You close the gap and kiss him. The kiss is careful at first, as though you’re both still looking to confirm that yes, this is what you both want. Mand- Din’s lips are soft and sweet against yours and you melt as it’s everything you could have imagined and more. A small moan escapes you, one that you’re embarrassed about until it causes Din to deepen the kiss. Caution evaporates, quickly turning into passion as your tongues meet.

Din moves, getting up from the floor and pushing you back against the bed. His lips never leave yours, devouring you as though you might slip away at any moment. He gives your bottom lip a small nip, quickly soothing it with his tongue. You pull away, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this okay?” Din asks, his voice low with desire. You respond by pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. Your positions shift as the kiss continues, Din’s knee finding its way between your legs as his arms wrap around you. Both of your hands have worked their way into his hair, something you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.

Din begins to kiss his way down your neck, leaving little love bites along the way. You gently tug on his hair, pulling a heavenly sound from him that only intensifies your pool of desire. Desperate for more, you move a hand down, seeking the hem of his shirt and slipping your hand underneath. His skin feels remarkable under your fingertips.

Din pulls away from your neck and quickly divests himself of his shirt. He allows you a moment to take him in, his lean physique flexing as he holds himself above you. Scars litter his body in various shapes and sizes, but you think they look beautiful against the glow of his honeyed skin.

Taking the opportunity, you remove your top as well, leaving you in your basic everyday bra. You wish you had worn your other bra, the sexier one, but with the way Din is looking at you, you’re not sure it matters. His lips return to your body, working his way across any and all of your newly exposed skin. One hand splays on your waist, holding you, grounding Din against you.

“You’re so soft, sweetheart,” Din murmurs against you. His lips find their way up to your chest, placing careful kisses against the globes of your breasts. He pauses and looks up at you, seeking your permission. You arch your back, allowing Din access to slip a hand beneath you and undo the clasp.

He pulls the bra away from you and you flush under the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect, you’re perfect,” Din says before reoccupying his mouth with your breasts. It seems that he has a real oral fixation, not that you mind in the slightest. His warm mouth feels heavenly against you, licking and sucking wherever he can.

Din takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other. It’s the best thing you’ve felt in months, better than any of your late night fantasies when you would try to satisfy your growing want for the man currently giving you so much pleasure. As though your attempts could ever come close to the real thing.

Din releases your nipple with a pop and returns to your mouth, licking his way inside. His kiss alone is enough to make you see stars. It makes you forget any other kiss you’ve ever shared, enveloping you in him and him alone.

You pull back slightly from the kiss, unable to take more without further relief. “Din, please, I want you,” you pant into his mouth. Din growls, actually growls, at your words. It's a far hotter response than it should be.

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.” His knee comes up and presses his thigh against you where you want him most, causing you to moan out his name. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

He’s trying to kill you, you think. Calling you a name like that. Sweet girl. It loops in your mind until Din’s fingers ghost over your nipples again. “I want you to touch me,” you tell him.

“I’m already touching you,” Din says. He’s a tease, you think, growing slightly frustrated with him. His thigh moves against you again though and he’s immediately forgiven.

“Please, Din,” you whine, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Thankfully he does, moving his leg away and quickly removing your pants. You already know you’re soaking, your panties feeling cold against you with the loss of the other cloth barrier.

Din pauses for another moment to take you in before moving. You’re nearly bare before him, almost entirely on display.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his hands parting your thighs. “So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine.” You can feel yourself clench at his words. No one has ever made you feel this way before. His stare only relaxes you more, his words feeling like a warm blanket wrapping around your fears and quieting them.

Din’s fingers brush against you through the thin cotton. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? I can already feel how wet you are.”

He continues to tease you, only leaving you capable of nodding your head back at him. His eyes catch yours, watching your reaction as he pushes the near useless fabric off to the side and pushes one finger between your folds. Just the small touch sets you aflame, pushing yourself down onto his hand, wanting more.

His finger leaves you and you frown until you watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off of it. Din moans at the taste. “You taste better than you do in my dreams.”

He leans down to kiss you, sharing the taste of yourself while he pulls your panties off completely. They’re thrown haphazardly into the room, lost to be found for later.

Din then moves himself between your legs, slowly working kisses down your body as he slides back onto his knees on the floor. He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed with ease and starts nipping and kissing your inner thighs. Your hands wind back into his hair, while you lie in disbelief that this is really happening right now.

Gentle kisses are placed along your folds, Din moving back as you try to grind your hips down onto him. His eyes catch yours again, mouth hovering over your clit as he speaks. “I’m going to taste you until you cum on my face and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

This time you manage a response, frantic to let him know that’s exactly what you want. “Yes, please, I want you so badly, Din.”

It’s all he needs to hear. His mouth comes down on your clit, carefully playing with the bundle of nerves, making you cry out and clench around nothing. He pulls away slightly and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top, pausing again at your clit to give it a teasing suck. Your hands pull at his hair from the attention.

He moves back down, teasing your entrance with his mouth. He moans, lapping up your pussy, acting every part a man dying of thirst who’s found oasis at your core. You buck into him and his hands quickly wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place. Din wants to pleasure you, but on his own terms, at his own speed.

You can’t make a coherent thought as he continues to eat you out. Small snippets of words make their way out of you, none of them making any real sense in conjunction with one another. It’s not until his thumb finds your clit as he continues to lick, suck, and nip at you that you find complete words to shout. “Din, oh god, yes, right there, I’m so close...”

Moments later you feel the tension within you snap, crying out as your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure. Din continues to work you through your orgasm, only stopping when you physically push his head away from you. He trails hot kisses along your inner thighs again, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you taste, how perfect your pussy is.

As you come down from your high, Din removes the last of his clothes, finally freeing his stiff erection. Your breath catches as you take him in, your Adonis in the flesh. He’s gorgeous, you think, wondering what you did to get so lucky.

Then he’s back over top of you, kissing and sucking at your skin. Some of those are bound to leave marks for tomorrow but you don’t mind. You want everyone to see, for everyone to know that you’re his. No more mistaken assumptions about your relationship, you want it on display for the world.

You look down to catch a better glimpse of his cock, satiating the curiosity that’s plagued you for so long. He’s big. More than enough to fill you, possibly even more than you can handle. As wet as you are, you know you’ll need him to go slow, to slowly stretch you out before he can truly fuck you.

You tilt your hips, bumping against him, letting him know that you want him. “Do you want my fingers first?” Din asks. You know you should say yes, but you can’t imagine another moment without knowing what he feels like inside of you.

“No,” you tell him. “Just go slow.”

Din places a quick searing kiss against your lips and positions himself. The head of his cock presses against your slick entrance and you feel like you’re already seeing stars. Din is muttering in your ear, holding you tightly against him as he pushes into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart. So tight and wet for me. I can’t wait to fill you up, to feel every inch of your sweet pussy.”

You nearly forget to breath as he slowly pushes in further. You can feel every inch of him and you only want more. Din’s stream of compliments are interrupted when he finally bottoms out in you, holding himself still as your walls clench and stretch around him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You turn your head and pull him into a blazing kiss, loving the way he feels filling you up. You wonder how you were ever satisfied with your fingers before when this had been next to you for so long. Din is apparently thinking along the same lines, whispering to you, “I’d have done this long ago if I knew you felt this good.”

You don’t even have time to consider the words as he slowly begins to move in you. The pleasure borders on agonizing as you begin to move your hips, encouraging him to move faster. Din responds quickly to your urging, setting a furious pace as he begins to lose all control. You know you’ll still be feeling him tomorrow and the thought makes you smile. You never want to go another day without a reminder of how he feels.

His thumb returns to your clit and you don’t have time to warn him before you’re thrown into another orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you lose yourself in the feeling of cumming on his cock. Din quickly follows, pulling out of you just in time to paint your stomach with ropes of his spend. You mourn the loss of him, but once Din finishes he buries himself back inside of you, causing another shock of pleasure to zing through your body.

Din rolls the both of you over, keeping himself sheathed in you, and allowing you to collapse on top of him. You’re both sweaty and panting, trying to come up with words. Din’s fingers lightly trace along your back, causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. You lift your head up from his chest in order to look at his face.

He’s completely debauched, sweat causing hair to cling to his forehead, the rest completely wild from your hands. His eyes are still blown wide, happily looking back at you. His lips are pink and swollen from all the kisses and licks he’s pressed into your skin. You know you can’t look much better than him.

You give a small clench around him and smile at the expression that runs across Din’s face. “I love the way you fill me,” you tell him. Din presses a loving kiss against your sweaty forehead.

“I never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours.” You can tell he means it too. If he could, he would stay buried in you forever. You love the way that sounds. His eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feeling of having you surround him.

“Din,” you say.

His eyes pop back open and refocus on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

A smile blooms across your face. “Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Din. It suits you.”

His name suits him in a different way than Mando does. Mando is the rough exterior, the front he puts up to the world. The one who punches men in bars for touching you and calling you pet names. The one that strikes fear into others, knowing that if he’s hot on their trail that they’re screwed. Din is the soft inside, the place where all of his ‘sweethearts’ originate, the cause for the hand holding and sparkling smiles. The man behind the armor that he presents to the world, the one who kisses and fills you up just right.

Din’s arms wrap around you tightly, clearly intent on never letting you go. You’re fine with that, letting it sink in that you’re finally laying in bed with the man who’s consumed your thoughts for months. A small, joyous giggle escapes you.

“What’s so funny?” Din asks.

“I thought you were going to leave me earlier. Now here I am, laying on top of you with your cock still inside of me.”

Din chuckles and you can feel it rumble in his chest. “I’m never letting you go sweetheart, no matter how much you piss me off.”

You fold your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on your hands. “I am sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I felt like you were treating me like a child,” you confess.

Din’s eyes widen a bit at your admission. “I always notice you, mesh’la. I never meant to treat you that way. I only want to keep you safe.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I feel so silly about it all.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from your face.

“Next time, I’ll take you in with me. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine.” He grinds his hips up into you to prove his point. It makes you squeal, causing a smirk to settle on Din’s lips. You give his cheek a small flick in retaliation but make no attempt to move.

You lay there for a little while longer, laying your head back down against Din’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath you. His hands trace anywhere he can touch on you, intoxicated by having you so close against him. Eventually though, you feel the call to use the bathroom and can no longer ignore it.

Din is almost painful sliding out of you, but you’re more upset about the loss of having him buried in you. Your legs are shaky as you stand, managing to make it to the bathroom on wobbly knees. You take a moment to clean yourself up, running a damp cloth across your body. Exhaustion hits as you return to bed, crawling under the covers and into Din’s arms.

You begin to drift off when Din asks, “Why’d you get a single? Not that I’m complaining.”

“All they had left. Maybe it was a sign,” you mumble back.

Din chuckles and presses a kiss against your head. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #modern!au #modern!din #din djarin fic #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandocrasis fic

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introvertguide · 3 years

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Easy Rider (1969); AFI# 84

The current movie under review from the AFI top 100 is the counterculture road film, Easy Rider (1969). As a note for anybody looking for screen captures, this is also the title of a magazine with many scantily dressed women next to vehicles, so be specific with your google image search. The film combines the hippie lifestyle with the beatnik concept of being free from "the man." It spoke to a lot of Americans at the time who were fighting back against government restrictions on one hand and the freedom of Civil Rights on the other. The film ended up making almost 100x the budget and was one of the first super performing, low budget indie films. The film was written by Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Terry Southern. It was produced by Fonda and directed by Hopper. It is funny to think about now, but it was basically Peter Fonda's hippie son and some of his buddies getting together and making a movie about a road trip. Well done! Before we go any further, let's get the normal warning out of the way...

SPOILER WARNING!!! I AM GOING TO SPOIL THE MOVIE THAT DOESN'T REALLY HAVE A MAJOR PLOT!!! WHAT STORY THERE IS I HAVE SPOILED SO WATCH THE FILM FIRST IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO RUIN IT FOR YOU!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

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Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) are freewheeling motorcyclists. After smuggling cocaine from Mexico to Los Angeles, they sell their haul and receive a large sum of money. With the cash stuffed into a plastic tube hidden inside the Stars & Stripes-painted fuel tank of Wyatt's California-style chopper, they ride eastward aiming to reach New Orleans, Louisiana, in time for the Mardi Gras festival. This all happens either in silence, in Spanish, or beneath the in-coming planes at an airport, so there really isn't any dialogue. It truly is exposition at the most basic level. What the director is basically communicating is "two guys got some money, here's how, now don't worry about it and enjoy the travel montage."

During their trip, Wyatt and Billy stop to repair a flat tire on Wyatt's bike at a farmstead in Arizona and have a meal with the farmer and his family. It is kind of interesting because Wyatt talks later about nobody being willing to help him, yet he is invited to use the barn and tools and then invited to have dinner with the whole family. Later, Wyatt picks up a hippie hitch-hiker, and he invites them to visit his commune, where they stay for the rest of the day. The notion of "free love" appears to be practiced, with two of the women, Lisa and Sarah, seemingly sharing the affections of the hitch-hiking commune member before turning their attention to Wyatt and Billy. The people at the commune seem to like Wyatt and want him to stay, but Billy doesn't seem to fit in and he is antsy to get back on the road. As the bikers leave, the hitch-hiker gives Wyatt some LSD for him to share with "the right people".

Further down the road, the two see a parade and playfully join the back. The pair are immediately arrested for "parading without a permit" and thrown in jail. There, they befriend lawyer George Hanson (Jack Nicholson), who has spent the night in jail after overindulging in alcohol. After the mention of having done work for the ACLU along with other conversation, George helps them get out of jail and decides to travel with Wyatt and Billy to New Orleans. As they camp that night, Wyatt and Billy introduce George to marijuana. As an alcoholic and a "square", George is reluctant to try it due to his fear of becoming "hooked" and it leading to worse drugs but he quickly relents. It is funny when Wyatt calls it "grass" and George doesn't know what that means. I don't know about other areas, but any 13-year-old where I live would most likely know what Wyatt was talking about.

Stopping to eat at a small-town Louisiana diner, the trio attract the attention of the locals. There is a booth packed with young girls next to a booth packed with what I can best describe as hicks. The girls in the restaurant think the trio are exciting, but the local men and a police officer make degrading comments and taunts. Wyatt, Billy, and George decide to leave without any fuss. They make camp outside town and talk about how their freedom scares a lot of people. In the middle of the night, a group of locals attack the sleeping trio, beating them with clubs. Billy screams and brandishes a knife, and the attackers leave. Wyatt and Billy suffer minor injuries, but George has been bludgeoned to death. Wyatt and Billy wrap George's body in his sleeping bag, gather his belongings, and vow to return the items to his family. This happens really fast and I wasn't really sure what had occurred or that George was dead. First time I saw this, I was looking at something else for 30 seconds and turned back to see Wyatt and Billy going through a wallet. I rewatched and the time between George going to sleep and the duo going through his wallet after death was about 37 seconds.

Wyatt and Billy continue to New Orleans and find a brothel that George had told them about. Taking prostitutes Karen (Karen Black) and Mary (Toni Basil) with them, Wyatt and Billy wander the parade-filled streets of the Mardi Gras celebration. They end up in a French Quarter cemetery, where all four ingest the LSD the hitch-hiker had given to Wyatt and experience a bad trip. I had to double check the name, but it is the same Toni Basil of "Oh Mickey, You're so fine, You're so fine you blow my mind, Hey Mickey!" fame.

The next morning, as they are overtaken on a two-lane country road by two local men in an older pickup truck, the passenger in the truck reaches for a shotgun, saying he will scare them. As they pass Billy, the passenger fires, and Billy has a lowside crash. The truck passes Wyatt who has stopped, and Wyatt rides back to Billy, finding him lying flat on the side of the road and covered in blood. Wyatt tells Billy he's going to get help and covers Billy's wound with his own leather jacket. Wyatt then rides down the road toward the pickup as it makes a U-turn.

Passing in the opposite direction, the passenger fires the shotgun again, this time through the driver's-side window. Wyatt's riderless motorcycle flies through the air and comes apart before landing and becoming engulfed in flames. A helicopter shot shows the carnage as the truck drives away and the credits roll.

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This movie is not what I would call my personal favorite, but many critics have praised it for the dialogue, visuals, and story. I am assuming when mention is made of the dialogue, it is in reference to Jack Nicholson, because the two lead characters are that mix of uncomfortable and annoying that you get with sometimes who is inebriated in some way. They repeat themselves, say phrases that make no sense and then laugh about it, and constantly say "what?" so the line is just repeated. The actors were often high during the making of the film and that is not at all surprising.

It seems funny to me that Dennis Hopper acted, directed, and partly wrote the script for the film, yet he gave himself the part of basically the third wheel. The character of Billy seems like he wants to be rich and have nice things but has fallen into the hippie lifestyle. He seems uncomfortable with the drug deal at the beginning. He doesn't want to pick up the hitcher. He wants to leave the commune and get back on the road. He insults George and has to apologize. He is the first to talk about the girls at the diner. He wants to go get prostitutes at the place that George talked about. He is the one that flips off the guys in the truck. Billy is the driving force of everything that goes wrong.

We can't talk about this film without mentioning the soundtrack, because it is kind of what the movie is famous for. Songs on the sound track include: "The Pusher" and "Born to Be Wild" (Steppenwolf), "The Weight" (The Band), "If 6 Was 9" (Jimi Hendrix), and "It's Alright, Ma" (Bob Dylan). Try putting this soundtrack on while driving and you will realize how perfect it is for a road trip. I don't think there has been a better grouping of driving songs.

So does this movie belong on the Top 100 American movies? Well, I guess. It was a watershed independent film during a time of major change in America and the world. It caught the interest of many in a generation and that is interesting enough to experience. Now would I recommend it? Not really. The film was kind of boring and the end is not satisfying. It is fascinating on many levels and I thought that the conversations that involved the character of George were good, but all lot of the movie is kind of slog. The campfire conversation between Wyatt, Billy and the hippie is just painful. It is maybe ironic, but this is a road trip movie that doesn't really move. It is worth watching if you are interested in the time period.

#easy rider #peter fonda #dennis hopper #jack nicholson #indie films #road trip #60s #hippies #introvert #introverts

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lyricalimerence · 4 years

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Colorful Consequences - JJ Maybank

summary: jj dyes his hair after losing a bet

word count: 1718

warnings: a little swearing, just friendship fluff

a/n: this is so cute don't even look at me + and this is for @maybanktho for the concept prompt

*this is how i imagine the color, but he just dyes the fringe/front part of his hair*

It all started with a bet—as most things do between you and JJ. There had to be a prize and a consequence, it was just your friendship dynamic. You two became friends through a competition he set in the fourth grade during recess. You both played on the field, juggling half pumped up soccer balls and booting them into opposite goals, not wanting to get in each other's way. Until he kicked his soccer ball into your goal on purpose, proposing a bet that he could sink a goal from farther away than you could. However, much to his ten-year-old chagrin, you won. He had to eat a hot dog from the cafeteria the next day—the hot dogs were chalky and an abnormal color. You, however, got to be one of his best friends for life. He would say that he got the winning end of that bet in the end, having you by his side for the past six years outweighed the stomachache he had after eating that hotdog.

This time, it was a surfing bet, and, as were getting gloriously used to, you won. His punishment was he had to dye his hair, and your prize was you choosing the color. A schedule wasn’t set for the day you had to become his personal hairdresser, so you were going about your Saturday morning as usual—half hungover and asleep on your couch, not having gotten to your bedroom before passing out the night prior. Your parents were nowhere to be found, probably on the mainland having affairs with rich people for money, or something along those lines—you didn’t particularly care anymore.

The familiar knocking pattern of JJ Maybank, your best friend, slammed into your eyes, almost abrasively as your head throbbed from the alcohol you consumed last night. Once you collected your thoughts together, you were surprised JJ was awake, not being the “up-and-at-em” type in the slightest.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself off the couch, the crick in your neck loosening as you stretched.

“You look like shit, Y/N,” JJ announced, leaning against the doorframe as you wiped the sleep from your hardly open eyes.

“Thanks for noticing, Sherlock,” you smiled wryly, pushing the hair from your fringe falling over your face. “What’re you doing here? And why are you handling your alcohol so much better than me?”

JJ walked past you, patting your shoulder as he entered your small house, the homey decor and familiar scent of fresh cookies and linen febreze inviting him in with as much vigor as you did the first time he came to your home. “Today is the day, my friend. And, in regards to the whole hungover deal, I so happen to not be a lightweight, unlike some…” he trailed off to glance at your slouched frame, the cuffs of your paper bag denim jeans bunched up around your shins, and the thick strapped tank from Pelican Marina that you chopped the bottom off of, was pushed up around the band of your bra. Normally, you’d be self conscious of how much of your torso was on display, but you were feeling like a dead squirrel, and it wasn't like JJ hadn't seen you in a bikini almost everyday.

Moving towards the couch to refold the blanket you had knocked onto yourself before you fell asleep, you asked, with an increasing amount of pep and clarity, “Today is the day for what?”

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N! You're dying my hair today. Get ready so we can go to the store.” He seemed a bit nervous, his hand instinctively going to the blond pieces of hair that fell as fringe over his forehead. A goofy smile spread across your face as his words sunk in, the leftover cranky drunkenness fading away as you almost jumped in the air as you ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Once you got out of the shower and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you met JJ back in your family room, his eyes glued to the phone screen in his hand, his eyes tracing over the photo he was looking at. His phone was open to a picture Kie took of you two on the HMS, having been in the midst of a shotgunning competition. Your hair fell in waves, from your ears down it was a light teal color, matching the oceanic background. JJ zoomed in on the picture, scrolling between the bright, superficial hair color to his photographed blond locks. “Hey!” You made him jump, as you leant against the back of the sofa, looking over his shoulder.

“I was thinking this color?” He sounded a little unsure, but as a hair dying veteran, you knew it was just virgin hair jitters. You took pride in having watched enough Brad Mondo, making you think you could do his hair just as well as a hairdresser.

You reached over, swiping so the camera app was open, and you maneuvered your ponytail to lay over his forehead, the pastel turquoise color of your hair covering most of his face, “I think ya look great.”

He jumped off the couch, grumbling about you being a total dork, and to just get the damn car keys. Having completely sobered up, you grabbed the keys to your old pickup truck and all but skipped out the door. JJ, being blond, had such good hair for dying. You had wondered what he’d look like with crazy colored locks multiple times, he had just never agreed until you won the bet.

Once you two had arrived at the store, a wave of air conditioning hit you, pricking at your bare legs and arms. Having been very acquainted with the beauty supply store, you walked straight to the aisle of hair dye, JJ following cluelessly in your wake. The lanyard holding your keychain was tucked in your denim short’s pocket, the ribbon loop brushing your knee as you bent down to pick up a mixing bowl and color application brushes. You looked towards JJ who was watching you with stitched together eyebrows and evident confusion. “These are semi-permanent colors,” you pointed to a section of the shelves, bottles and tubes or paint like hair dyes sprawling out in front of JJ. “Your hair is light enough that it won’t need bleach… so how long are you committed to this merman look, ya think?”

JJ turned his head to look at you, his eyes lazily gazing at your dimpled smile. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“As you should!” A laugh bounced from your lips as you nodded, pulling two bottles from the shelf of semi-permanent colors, knowing he’d want to be able to change it at some point. “I used this dye for my hair, if that’s what you want.” He nodded and took the bottle from your hand, staring at it with optimistic intrigue. “C’mon,” you motioned for him to follow you to the checkout line where you two split the bill and you teased him with the cashier with whom you were familiar.

Once you drove JJ back to your house—after going through the McDonald’s drive thru because JJ was hungry—you rummaged through your bathroom, stains of pinks, greens, blues, purples, reds, oranges, and blacks danced along the edge of your sink and shower from your previous dye jobs. You threw a blue towel at JJ to wrap around his shoulders, knocking a french fry out of his hand. “Hey, I was eating that.”

You mock pouted at his indignation but stayed silent so you could pour some of the dye into the mixing bowl. Before slipping on plastic gloves, you sectioned out JJ’s hair with old butterfly clips and barrettes he used to make fun of you for wearing in the sixth grade, claiming you were too grown up for hair clips. Although, he was owning the look now, pretending to flip his fringe sassily before you peeled the strands of blond off his forehead.

JJ was swiping through his phone, looking for Spotify before putting on his playlist and drumming on the counter with his fingers to the beat. You had to hold his head still multiple times with one hand, your other hand otherwise occupied with a brush filled with hair dye. Once he calmed down, you started brushing the color on the ends of his fringe, following the sections you had created. By the time you had finished and worked the dye to the roots of his fringe you handed him a mirror. “Whatcha think?”

He stared at the mirror like he was looking at a foreign object. “I mean I like it… Do you think we could stop here, just dye the front pieces?”

You hummed in response, grabbing the now empty plastic bag from the store and tying it just over his hair to incubate it with heat. “Okay, now we wait for thirty minutes.”

“Let's watch Avatar the Last Airbender.” JJ suggested, as you two walked into the main hallway of your small house on The Cut. Responding with a short word of agreement, you watched JJ jump over the couch to sit on it, aiming the remote at the screen.

After your phone beeped, signaling the end of thirty minutes, you had to tear JJ away from the TV, him having become engrossed by Aang’s adventures. Somehow you managed to rinse his hair out in the basin of your shower, adding to the colorful splotches on the rim. He complained about the water being cold then when you warmed it up, he cupped his hand under the faucet and splashed you with it.

Using all your self control, you extinguished the beginnings of a water fight in your bathroom and rinsed all the dye from JJ’s hair.

Shaking his hair like a wet dog, water droplets flying at you, JJ haphazardly dried his hair before looking in the mirror. “Wait, that's actually so good.”

“Really?” You asked through a grin, excited he liked the color. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and squeezed you into his side.

“Yeah, it's awesome, Y/N!” He let go of you just to grab your hand and pull you through your house, “Let’s go show the others.”

Another bet he lost with more than optimal consequences.

tags - click here if you'd like to be added

@ilovejjmaybank @thelocalpogue @calumbroutledge @drew-starkey @jayjaymaebank @prejudic3 @anonymous0writer @rudys-pankow @lovingxjj @apoguecalledjj @write-from-the-heart @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @insanitysparkles @bxllasanosa @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @beatement-l @outerbanksbro @abigailpankow @popcsheyward @mahleeyuh @queenofthebees003 @kaitieskidmore1 @copper-boom @starlightstarkey @joyfulfrappuccino @king-ronnoc @ultranikilove

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow #jj #obx fanfiction #fluff #jj maybank x you #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow fic #jj is pop punk king

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Amphibia: Night Drivers/Return to Wartwood Review “Many Happy Returns”

Hello you happy people. And Amphibia is back and that means my reviews are back! As for why this reviews a bit late despite it leaking, I wanted to wait for today, and long story short both focused on finishing a review that WASN’T time senstive, instead of finishing it Sunday, and overestimated how much time i’d have to do two reviews on a day that included my first covid shot, grocery shopping, helping mom clean the car, and my friend coming over to watch Judas and the Black Messiah. Excellent film by hte way, as was the Sound of Metal which we watched after. Point is I done goofed and I will try to at the very least actually get the reviews of the episodes out on the same day they come out.

But slip up or not i’m happy to be back in the saddle, and back to Wartwood. I’m pumped for the heavier second half, with more secrets to uncover, some zelda style temple action, and some heavy drama with just a whiff of keith david, as well as to see the supporting cast from Wartwood again after far too long. So how’d the mid-season premire pair fair? Join me under the cut to find out.

Night Drivers: I was really excited by the Road Trip idea when first announced for season 2. A chance to expand the world and get the plantars out of their comfort zone was an amazing concept and it did lead to some really great stories and interesting locales.. mixed with episodes that had interesting locations but no interesting plot or character stuff. It was a mixed bag, and disappointing after close to a year’s wait to continue the plot that it really didn’t outside of “Toadcatcher”. Anne never really dealt with her trauma and the show never dealt with hop pop’s poularity or anything else. Again there were GOOD episodes and ideas but it felt like the show stalled for a good chunk of the season till we got to Netwopia which while still having tons of slice of life stuff felt a lot fresher with it, and had a lot more fun playing with stock plots and gave us a fresh new setting to dig into.

So I was a bit hesitant to go back to the road for an episode.. even if it was just one episode. Thankfully I was very wrong there as Night Drivers was a pretty good episode and would fit well among the best of the road trip arc like “Truck Stop Polly” “Fort in the Road” “Anne Hunter” “Toadcatcher” and “Wax Museum”.

The plot is straightforward: Sprig and Polly are excited that their almost home to wartwood and if Anne and Hop Pop drive all night they’ll be there by morning. Polly will get pillbug pancakes and Sprig will see Ivy again. This is part of a long tradtion of “skiping over the journey home because we’re tired and we wanna go home” in fiction. Jokes aside it’s a resonable device used to prevent ending fatigue and in this case to free up episodes for the second half. We already saw the journey once, we usually don’t need to see it again. To Amphibia’s credit they have valid reasons for it: The journey is LITERALLY sped up, as Hop Pop and Anne have been driving for 20 hours straight.. and their on a timer. As was established last time.. well the last time that wasn’t a spooky halloween episode, The Plantars have to get back for the harvest and really don’t have time to sightsee, while they all have to be there for whenever Marcy comes back to take Anne to the first temple. They’ve also traveled these roads before so while their going a whole other directoin, they know what perils to avoid.

But as anyone whose taken a long cartrip can tell you, you can’t shotgun it forever and the two eventually tap out with Hop Pop telling Sprig and Polly not to night drive as it’s dangerous and blah blah blah standard parental warning that will be swiftly ignored. So once Hop Pop and Anne are conked out they swiftly ignore it after we get their dreams.. which are the best gags of the episode: Hop Pop has a dream with weird, really cool looking monsters that represent his faults, only for it to turn Lucid and him to start flying and take his shirt off and whip it around Muscle Man style.

While Anne’s is about a yogurt world where there’s only one flavor... BLACK LICORICE. Yeah it quickly turns from Shopkins to the Lich From Adventure Time really fucking quick.

So while Anne has a nightmare and Hop Pop becomes unto a god, Sprig and Polly drive all night, repreadtly running into a creepy hitchiker and realizing it is as dangerous as they said with bolders, even worse creatures than usual because of course theye’d be a lot of nasty things lurk in the dark why wouldn’t they on froggy death world, a nightmarish fog and nearly dying on said foggy road they took to evade the hitchiker. Naturally the scary hook handed hitchiker.. is a friendly one, simply trying to help them and saving them from going over a cliff. They do make it three miles from Wartwood and Hop Pop wakes up angry to find they disobeyed him.. but Anne gets him to back off as they clearly learned their lesson from the sleep deprviation and nearly dying, and our heroes head for home.

Night Drivers isn’t an exceptional episode, but it is decent and still does belong with the other good road trip episodes, with some good dream sequences and a nice dynamic between Sprig and Polly. It was nice to have an episode with the two that was good unlike Quarallers Pass which made me want to run full speed into my nearest wall until I was given the sweet gift of unconciousness. While the Hook Handed man thing was a bit obvious it lead to some great gags. It’s a nice breather after the tearjerking mid-season finale and while we’ve obviously had months and a haloween episode between that, the creators rightfully realized a lot of people will be binging the series in the future. The issue I had with the first quarter of the season was it was ALL break and only a little plot progression. Here we’ve had a lot of plot progression in the last episode chronlogically, and are going to have a lot in the coming episodes with ‘After the Rain” coming next week. It’s nice to take a break and see the forest for the hook handed ghosts.

Return to Wartwood: I was excited and terrified of this one. I was excited because I missed the supporting cast from season one, mostly Ivy and Maddie, and was delighted to see them again in full. But I was also worried the show might pull out a melancholy breakup plot and having gotten attached to Ivy/Sprig and Hop Pop/Sylvia I was worried. And I was delightfully wrong as instead it’s another breather episode and an utterly fantastic one after the simply decent one above.

Our heroes return, without being drawn by rob liefield or replaced by the Squadron Supreme first, and are happily greeted by the town. Aformentoined fears died a happy death as Sylvia squeezes Hop Pop and as for Sprig, Ivy unsuprisingly ambushes him. Everyone’s back and the Mayor, who I also badly missed is back using Toadie as a gong to get everyone back to buisness, with Swampy inviting them for a big dinner at his diner that night to celebrate and welcome them back.. and to give out their gifts.

Sprig and Anne are equally confused while Polly and Hop Pop are sweating bullets. Turns out when they got the Fwagon they agreed to get a bunch of stuff for the town and forgot and now everyone’s on the hook for it and want to lie their butts off to solve it. In a nice show of character development, Anne has learned that the lying never solves anything “I think we’ve learned that lesson by now”. After SO many plots of the characters lying and it going terribly, it’s nice to have someone speak up. Sprig also wants to lie but only becuase he’s deeply afraid Ivy will break up with him as she wanted a Red Sun shell to go with the blue moon shell she gave him. Awwww. And oh crap.

So our heroes head home to plan and kick Chuck out (“I grew tulips”). So they do the natural thing... and decide to summon an edltich beast from the necronomicon... which of course Maddie gave Sprig as a present (”Aww that’s nice”. Agreed Polly, agreed.). I also can’t help but love the line “We’re all cull with practicing the dark arts to solve our problem right?” So our heroes get the proper summoning horn, thing to go with the horn and some candles.. i’ts not part of the ritual but Anne says it helps with ambience and it’s right.

So our heroes summon the Chikalisk, an edltich god that’s naturally basalisk in all but name, which dosen’t attack unless attacked and goes after gold. So they fake some golden presents, and the beast attacks at the party.. but the town naturally fights back, and our heroes are forced to help fight the monster as it stonifies people. So we get a truly glorious battle sequences as the whole town shows off how badass they are, with Maddie curing people, Sylvia showing she can keep up with Hop Pop and Ivy showing her already established badass bonafieds. It’s just awesome. Also the Mayor uses Toadie as a shield not realizing he’s turned to stone which can only remind me of this.

Once the townsfolk are freed they get into Chickalisk formation (”We have a formation for that?” “We have a formation for everything!”) And it’s offended enough to just nope out. The townsfolk are depressed though the presents got destroyed and Anne glares the family into coming clean. And while the mayor seems mad at first... he just laughs with everyone taking it in stride: It was boring without them getting into trouble and learning lessons every week, and they missed them. Ivy likewise dosen’t care about a gift she just missed her boyfriend.. and asks Sprig to take her on a proper date and smooches him on the cheek leaving both him and Anne catatonic, with Polly dragging Anne away and sprig just falling over before Maddie hits him with the potion. It dosen’t work that way, end episode.

Return To Wartwood was a standout episode, with tons of great jokes, pacing and a nice plot that showed growth in anne. While Night Drivers was decent, this was the show at it’s : Sweet, deranged and adventurous all in one episode. While Night Drivers was a good appitizer this was one hell of an entree. Or an appetizer sampler which I often use as an entree. Great episode and a nice high note to start on.

Next Time: We get an Ivy focused episode!

And Hop Pop is finally forced to own up to his lies!

As the twin kermits sooth you if you liked this review, follow me for more, check the amphibia tag for more reviews from this season and join me on patreon. If I get another patreon, i’ll add reviewing season 1 to my 25 dollar stretch goal so look out for that and my next one at 20 dollars, only 5 dollars away, nets a monthly review of a darkwing duck episode. Check it out and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

#amphibia #night drivers #return to wartwood #anne boonchuy #sprig plantar #hopidiah plantar #polly plantar #ivy sundew #maddie flour #sylvia sundew #mayor toadstool #disney channel #disney #animation #amphibia spoilers

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lambourngb · 4 years

Text

This Hard Lie

Fic prompt: “Just trust me.”

THIS HARD LIE follows THIS HARD TOWN an AU that explores what Michael’s life might change if Alex hadn’t joined the Air Force. It’s not necessarily an easy rosy life . This part includes the following warnings : Kyle/Michael, sexual content, a homophobic slur directed at Michael by an OC, Michael’s cynicism about the US military and some more plot musings. This is finished in full on AO3.

***

[UNDER the cut because it starts NSFW]

There was something intensely meditative about sucking cock for Michael.

Opening his mouth wide past comfort into an ache of effort, the firm press on his palate mixing with the surge of salt on his tongue, the mess of saliva and pre-cum smearing sloppily over his face as he dropped into a state where listening to his partner’s enjoyment was the only thing that registered. The world slipped away as he took measured breaths, his mind finally quiet, until all that was left was Michael being good.

Michael could just be a vessel to fill with pleasure instead of pain.

Normally skating his hand down to gently squeeze and massage his partner’s testicles was enough to get that hitched-curse and uncontrolled jerk in his mouth that signaled an impending orgasm. The draw and shiver of warm pliant skin before the warm, thick release in his mouth, except that was not happening.

After a firm swipe of his tongue against the slit, rubbing against the edge of the frenulum, another foolproof trick in his experience that garnered nothing more than a sigh and an absent clutch of the hand on the back of his neck, Michael pulled away abruptly to stare up at Kyle Valenti’s face.

“Wait, why’d you stop?”

Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand rocking back on his heels, his voice rough from his activities, “‘Cause you don’t seem to be into this? Which I gotta admit, that’s a mood killer for me and slightly hurtful to my pride.”

Instead of arguing with Michael over his observation, Kyle sighed guilty and shifted to pull up his lightweight shorts over his erection, signalling the close of the encounter. “Sorry, you know you’re great at that, it’s me. My brain,” he gestured to his head with a twirling motion with his long-skilled surgeon hands.

Michael couldn’t help but follow the motion with interest, he had always been a sucker for a set of strong, confident hands.

Alex had hands like that.

Fuck, Michael pushed that thought away like he did every time it slipped in uninvited and collapsed next to Kyle on his expensive leather couch. It’s been two years since Michael’s last glimpse of Alex, no contact from him outside of the impersonal birthday and holiday cards that had begun after Michael mailed his ‘I’m sorry I dropped in your life’ letter. They’ve officially been apart longer than they were together and still Michael couldn’t stop thinking of Alex daily.

Perhaps Kyle wasn’t the only one distracted tonight.

“Listen, I won’t bore you with the details and break our agreement here,” Kyle continued, knocking his shoulder against Michael’s. “I can still do you here-”

“‘Do me’, so romantic, Valenti. I think I’ll pass on getting a disinterested handjob, thanks.” Michael rolled his eyes at the offer and reached for the bottle of water from the coffee table to swish around his mouth before swallowing for effect.

It was Kyle’s turn to roll his eyes but fondly. “I could give you an absent-minded blowjob instead?”

Their eyes met. Kyle lifted his well-groomed eyebrow as Michael pretended to be seriously tempted with a stroke of his stubbled jaw in turn before they both broke and started to laugh helplessly.

If someone had told a seventeen-year-old Michael that one day he would be laughing with Kyle Valenti in his high-end, ultra modern condo after a failed conclusion to a ‘U up?’ text, well he probably would have been interested in the type of pharmaceutical high that would have made that possible. Hell, the Michael of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it either but that was before he met the post-med school Kyle that returned home to Roswell.

It had started one night at the Wild Pony, where Michael frequented more and more for the scraps of news about Alex from Maria. A practice she did her best to discourage, repeating her policy of ‘I don’t play messenger between exes’, which had given Michael hope that maybe Alex had asked about him. He had been one beer in, contemplating a second when Jake Frederick’s sneer had interrupted.

“I hear they’re finally opening a place that caters just for the fags in town.”

That word, not unfamiliar to Michael in Roswell, brought his shoulders up to his ears. Its ugliness brought back so many memories of how it was whispered, spat, scrawled, or just strongly implied whenever Michael and Alex had ventured outside the safety zone of the Crashdown or their own four walls. The Wild Pony once Maria had bought it was eventually added to the list, though some patrons still thought otherwise.

On cue, Maria’s voice barked from behind the bar, “Jake, you use that word again in here and you’re banned for life!”

There was a titter of amusement as Jake’s crowd of admirers teased him for the call out, before an artificial apology was offered in return. After a moment though, Michael could hear him perfectly well pick up his conversation, “it’ll be wall to wall fake wigs and limp wrists there, probably playing nothin’ but Alex Manes’s shitty music.”

The laughter echoed, and Michael started to reach for his wallet to pay for his beer. It was clear that tonight’s entertainment was focused on Michael. He thought at this point, without Jesse Manes drumming up hate for his son, that these bullies would finally move on to something new. Unimaginative pricks.

“Hey Guerin, you off to join your people at that gay bar?” Jake called, noticing Michael’s departure. “Gonna find yourself someone new to ruin now that your boy left you?”

Closing his eyes as he swept his hat over his curls, Michael said a silent apology to 17-year-old Alex for breaking his promise on violence. He turned, noting a few new faces gathered at the table, probably guys from the base with their short haircuts, along with a silent Wyatt Long. For all of Wyatt’s racist blustering, Michael knew he had a queer cousin in Austin. Still, Michael pasted a bright and fake smile, “those are my people at Planet 7, Jake, but how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not gay.”

“My mistake, buddy. Must have been all the cocksucking you do that threw me off.”

Michael laughed harshly, ignoring the movement in his peripheral, and stepped closer, his smile growing darker, “I’m bisexual, which means, not only will I feed you my dick, Jakey, but I’ll give it to your sister too. Just not at the same time. Unless you’re into that sort of thing? You look like your parents were into it…”

The slam of chairs falling backward as Jake jumped to his feet at the insult. After that it was more blurs of movement, jostling, and chaos as Maria shouted in the background about the police while Michael traded punches indiscriminately. At one point he realized he had help against his back, as the fight spilled outside into the cold, raw New Mexico night.

Dark spiked hair, a nice set of shoulders that gave Michael an inch or two of height advantage was all he could register in the melee. It wasn’t until the breaking of glass that was shortly echoed by the boom of a shotgun that the fight dropped into stillness and Michael recognized his unsolicited ally as Kyle Valenti.

Maria stood next to the door of the Wild Pony as a lone siren picked up in the background, “All right you assholes, you’re all out of here. Drop your weapons and fucking leave before I have the sheriff lock all of you up!”

“Gotta admit, you’re kind of the last person I expected to be fighting a bigot,” Michael commented, dabbing at a fiercely bleeding cut on his eyebrow. “Kinda remember it the other way around in high school.”

Kyle smiled humorlessly as he caught his breath, grabbing Michael’s shoulder to pull him away from the bar toward the parking lot as the sirens picked up volume. “Well, I remember you as being some sort of secret genius in high school. Taking on five guys seems kind of dumb.”

“It was just four guys, Wyatt wasn’t gonna involve himself or else Maria would have called his uncle and aunt on him.”

“Oh well, if it was just four guys, I should have stayed at the bar, I wasn’t finished with my drink yet,” Kyle quipped sarcastically, as he kept pulling Michael through the parked cars. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Fuck off, I didn’t ask for help-” He shook off Kyle’s hand, his previous pliancy in following Kyle at an end as he bristled with indignation. Whatever strange amnesia over what a dick Kyle Valenti was in general and to Alex in particular passed at the prod for gratitude. “And my damn truck is over there-”

“Can you even see out of that eye? Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Kyle answered for him and dug out a pair of keys from his pocket as an expensive sounding unlocking chirp echoed. Of course. The dark blue BMW in the sea of modest pick up trucks and domestic sedans was his. At least it wasn’t the bright red Camaro from graduation, that car had too many associations with it for Michael. The hatch popped open on the X1, Kyle leaned in to pull out a towel to toss to Michael. “I’ve got my bag here and I could use the practice in sutures, so?”

Normally the idea of a doctor touching him at all was enough to instill a mix of dread and panic, but Michael didn’t see anything in Kyle’s face other than genuine concern mixed with exasperation. The open air of the parking lot with police on the way seemed like a bad idea. “All right, free medical care is hard to turn down, but I don’t want your dad arresting me, so can we-”

“Your place, it is.” And then as they drove in silence, with Michael still holding the towel against his cut, Kyle spoke gently in the dark. “I was a dick in high school, I was even a dick in college. But then some things changed for me, um, so I’m glad Roswell is getting a gay bar.”

“No, no, high school homophobe does not come out as gay, not happening, no way-”

“No not gay,” Kyle cut his eyes over to the passenger seat, giving Michael a quick up-and-down appraisal. “Just learned the package isn’t really that important to me. I like sex. Med school was a small pool of sleep-deprived, competitive people and I stopped caring if they had a dick or not. I also learned a lot about anatomy.”

The appraising look, the hint of good-natured humor in Kyle’s eyes, and his suggestive words were all enough to push Michael to grunt, “changed my mind, your place instead.” He never took anyone back to his Airstream as a rule.

And that was the beginning of Michael’s almost-friends, only-benefits relationship with Kyle Valenti. It revolved around those unsaid rules from the first night, only at Kyle’s condo, and rarely did they engage in anything more substantive than talk about sports or the general stupidity of Roswell. The sex was easy, the conversation stayed light enough to fill the gaps of loneliness, and if Michael had been a different species, he might have considered it the start of something more permanent.

If only Max had been wrong. If only Michael hadn’t fallen in love with Alex as a teenager. The first year after Alex left had been devoted to trying to make it on his own financially and getting the down payment together for the Airstream. The next year he had tortured himself with believing that now that Alex was successful, he’d come back to Roswell, to him. Then after Isobel’s wedding and that trip east, Michael had to accept the truth.

Dating in the years since, women and the occasional out man, had changed nothing for Michael. It was still Alex filling his every odd thought, and especially his fantasies at night. Doomed indeed as Max warned him, to drift through life enjoying the surface companionship of others but never anything more.

The reminder of what he did have currently, good sex and the ability to laugh with someone, loosened some of the private rules that Michael had had kept to with Kyle. “So, I mean, you don’t have to, but if you want to talk about what’s on your mind, you can.” Michael tipped his head back against the couch to meet Kyle’s surprised expression. “It would make me feel better about my sexual prowess, okay? You nodding off during a blowjob hurts man.”

“Well, as long as it makes you feel better,” Kyle teased sarcastically before accepting the offer made. “I was thinking about my dad.”

“Kinky, but gross, dude.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

“Sorry, sorry, that was wide open.” Michael nudged his shoulder more seriously, “what about your dad?”

“He’s been acting weird lately. I actually thought he was drinking again,” Kyle waived his hand restlessly, “it’s an open secret my dad has been on and off the wagon. Most cops have a close relationship with booze.”

The Roswell circle of repeated gossipry was wide enough to reach Sanders, customers often needing to make some sort of conversation as they waited, so Michael was pretty familiar with the rumors about Jim Valenti. Most of them he ignored, like the infidelity whispers, because he could still remember the man showing up to Mimi Deluca’s house to offer Alex that first steady job in the face of Jesse’s smear campaign. An act that Jesse had retaliated by sponsoring a challenger to the next year’s sheriff’s race.

For a police officer, Michael cut Jim Valenti some slack in the character department. He also wasn’t a bad boss according to Max, though his brother’s opinion didn’t sway Michael as far as Jim’s act of kindness to Alex had.

“You said you thought he was drinking again, but he’s not?”

“Well, my other suspicion was he was cheating on my mom.” Kyle met Michael’s concerned glance with a tired, dark smile. “Yeah, not a great thought to have, but he’s been disappearing a lot. Acting paranoid too, he always carries but I noticed he kept his sidearm on him during Sunday dinner. Like he’s afraid someone is going to show up and attack him.”

“You think he was cheating with someone else who was married?”

“I can’t really figure out what’s going on with him, other than he’s lying. But I followed him today, and he didn’t go to work, he drove a hundred miles north.”

Michael blinked in reluctant admiration, “I guess you pick up stuff with two cops as parents.” He racked his brain for something more to say, but his conversational skills had never been gifted to begin with outside of charming someone into bed. “Um, in my experience, cheaters stay close to home. Like coworker, favorite waitress, etc. it’s definitely weird for your dad to drive that far for a little something on the side.”

“That’s the thing, he’s all secretive but it's over something nostalgic. I followed him to some old prison my grandfather worked at in the 60s called Caulfield. It’s been shut down for years. I can’t figure it out, and short of asking him directly I doubt I will.” Kyle shook his head again before inching closer to Michael on the couch, with a slow growing knowing smile, “So now you know where my head was when-“

“When I was trying to give you head?” Michael snarked playfully, picking up the change in mood easily. Apparently talking it out loud had released whatever mental block Kyle had been struggling with before. The moment reminded him of how he used to hold Alex at night, listening to him vent over the various customers in his day before he was able to wind down enough to enjoy any intimate touch.

Fuck. He was thinking about Alex again.

This time he let Kyle pulling him into a kiss distract him fully from the renewed spiral of remembrance. His body warmed slowly as Michael shut down his brain from wandering east again to Nashville.

***

“Your soul and your heart have been in such opposition,” Mimi murmured, holding Michael’s palm between hers as she gave him a reading at the Wild Pony. It was his way of distracting her while Maria gently soothed two customers that had received a deep lecture about the sins on their souls from her mother. To be fair, Michael could tell from their demeanor and close cut hair that each of them had served or were actively serving in the military, so Mimi Deluca probably wasn’t too far wrong from the mark with her lecture. “I know you’re a traveler, child, but this pull north and east could tear you in two.”

“My heart hasn’t been mine for a while,” Michael replied truthfully. Once he and Alex had moved in with one another, the small family of outcasts with Alex, Maria and Mimi had expanded to include him for a while. And once upon a time it had boasted more members like Rosa and Liz, but his sister’s actions had trimmed those branches in one way or another.

“That’s the east, and while it travels ever closer to you, you’ll never get that back. But north though, if you follow that path, perhaps your soul will find peace.”

“Not sure what I’d do with peace.”

“Maybe pay your bar tab once in a while?” Maria injected as she moved back behind the bar with a gentle hand on her mother’s shoulder. “And not starting a fight in my bar would also be a good start.”

“Come on, Deluca, I have been a very good boy since that last go-around Jake. I swear that kid is a closet case with how badly he seems to want me to lay hands on him,” Michael protested weakly. Truly he had only bent his old promise to Alex a handful of times in the last year and all of them because the Fredrickson kid had brought up Alex in some way. The comments about his job, clothes, and cheap taste in booze could all be ignored, but one word about Alex’s music or success and the gloves came off.

“Maria! Don’t be so mean to Michael, his people aren’t designed to live like this, divided in two.”

Despite the chill from Mimi’s words, Michael knew that Maria didn’t take her mother’s talk too seriously with how often she peppered her premonitions with nineties alien blockbuster movies. She always interpreted her mother’s words as being a romantic metaphor about a lost love.

Suddenly Mimi straightened, looking over Michael’s shoulder. “I guess good can come from evil dying.”

In the mirror over the bar, he caught sight of what Mimi saw. A grip closed over his heart, squeezing it until the fluttering motion ceased under the force as he watched Alex Manes move confidently through the crowd toward the front where Michael was with Maria. His head was shaved close up the back of his head, leaving a long, silky dark fringe over one eye and his face was bare of makeup and piercings. The black shirt sporting long sleeves made of crisscrossed fabric over a pair of tight black jeans looked more at home on Rodeo Drive than Roswell but the completely indifferent look on Alex’s face showed he didn’t care about fitting in to the locals bar.

Fuck it was so quintessentially Alex’s attitude from high school, before the shed, that Michael was having trouble remembering it had been at least six years.

“Alex Manes, in my bar!” Maria squealed, vaulting herself over the bar in one smooth motion to cross the distance to throw herself into his arms.

Michael’s mouth was dry as he picked up his drink to take a sip, feeling awkward and out of place. Should he offer his hand to shake? A hug? Could he pretend to be European and kiss Alex’s cheeks? What were the rules on an ex that he traded Hallmark cards with now?

A soft cool touch pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts to look up into Mimi Deluca’s clear and focused gaze, “he sings in the wrong key every night, but you know his song. You’re a good boy, you’re not rotten inside like your sister.”

Before he could do more than blink, Alex was suddenly next to them, looking at Mimi’s hand covering his curiously before smiling at Michael. “I would have thought you’d be tired of this place, after all those nights waiting for me to finish my shift?”

“Alex,” Michael took a deep breath, floundering for something more than the obvious, “you’re here. In Roswell.”

“It wasn’t really my idea,” Alex admitted gently, before taking a seat next to him. He reached smoothly for Michael’s glass to steal a drink from before making a face. “Oh man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had Crown Royal.” He fished out an expensive wallet to pull a crisp hundred dollar bill from a stack to lay on the bar, “Maria, please rescue him from this with some good tequila.”

Mimi gave Michael a significant look of encouragement before interjecting, “Maria, honey you should let these two get reacquainted, Alex isn’t going anywhere for a while. Jesse is dying, but he’s not dying today or even tomorrow.”

Michael jerked his head toward Alex, “that’s why you’re here? It’s your dad?”

A small smile of satisfaction twitched over Alex’s mouth before he nodded in confirmation, “Brain tumor. Doctor says he might have a month, maybe less. I’m only here because my brother threatened to go to the press if I didn’t show and my agent is worried about how that would look.”

“Oh.” Michael picked up his fresh drink, a high end alcohol he could have never dreamed of ordering for himself, out of a need to do something with his hands to keep from reaching out to touch Alex. “If I said that sucks for you that he’s dying, I’d be lying, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, Michael.” Alex clinked his glass against Michael’s softly, “I’ve been back for a couple of days, this was the first time I could get away actually. The movies all lied you know, cancer isn’t this quiet death. My dad is ranting and raving all night long, about aliens, about being murdered, about all sorts of random shit about Roswell and the crash and hands that kill. Your name has kept coming up too. I should record it and put it on youtube, make him famous too.”

***

#guerinweek20 #mgweek20 #malex #malex fic #guerenti #the lost decade #au after the shed #there will be a happy ending #angst first #pining idiots in love #roswell new mexico

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Note

Halloween prompt, thinking waay back to the Bakery AU. Angie, Stan, and Lute make a bet, winner gets to pick Halloween costumes for the others

Thank you for the Bakery AU prompt! I love that AU, it’s so Wholesome. So here’s some more Wholesome content. Enjoy!

——————————————————————————————

“That’s not enough punkin.”

“Not-” Stan sighed and looked over at Lute, who was watching him make pumpkin cheesecake cookies. “You told me to always follow the recipe after I fucked up that cake.”

“Yes.”

“I’m following the recipe.”

“Hmm.” Lute squinted at the recipe taped to the wall in front of Stan. “Oh, I see. We need to update the recipe. Last time we made it, it wasn’t punkiny enough.”

“Why do you pronounce ‘pumpkin’ like that?” Stan muttered. Lute shrugged. “Anyways, there’s no pumpkin left. I just dumped the last of it into the bowl.”

“That ain’t a problem.” Lute reached under the counter and pulled out a pumpkin, then plopped it onto the counter. Stan stared at it. “Chop it in half, scoop out the guts, roast it in the oven, then ya can use the flesh. Oh, and don’t forget to save the seeds. We roast ‘em fer use in other things.”

“You’re joking,” Stan said flatly.

“You were there when we bought a bunch of sugar punkins. What did ya think we got ‘em for?” Lute teased. Stan groaned loudly.

“Angie, your twin is torturing me!” he called to Angie, who was a few feet away. Angie didn’t respond. Stan turned. “Angie?”

“Mm-hmm,” Angie mumbled, clearly intensely focused on decorating cupcakes.

“Lute is torturing me,” he repeated.

“That’s nice,” Angie said. Lute snickered.

“Whine to her after she’s done,” Lute suggested. Stan scowled at Lute. “Finish up those cookies, feller.”

-----

Stan had begun the next batch of cookies, salted caramel, when Angie finally finished decorating. She stretched, working out the kinks from standing in the same position for so long.

“All right, what were ya tryin’ to talk at me about?” she asked, turning to face Stan.

“Oh, I was just saying that Lute was torturing me,” Stan said with a shrug. He cracked an egg into the mixing bowl. “We ran out of pumpkin, and he made me make more.”

“That ain’t torture. That’s teachin’ ya some more cookin’,” Angie said dismissively. Stan rolled his eyes.

“Shoulda figured you’d side with him.” He looked over at the cupcakes Angie had been decorating. “You spent a lot of time on those.”

“You really want to win the contest, huh?” Lute asked, walking over to look at the cupcakes. Stan followed. He looked over the cupcakes, smiling faintly. They had been decorated with cutesy, cartoonish versions of mummies, ghosts, vampires, zombies, and other classic Halloween monsters.

And she tries to say she sucks at decorating. She’s way too hard on herself. What Lute had said registered.

“Wait, what contest?” he asked. Lute raised an eyebrow.

“Ya don’t recall? You agreed to participate in it, Stanley. Y’know, the person who wins gets to choose what we wear fer Halloween.”

“Oh, right, that,” Stan said. “We’re selling things at that fair tomorrow.” Lute and Angie nodded. “The person who sells the most wins. But why does Angie’s decorating have anything to do with that?”

“We changed the rules a bit,” Angie said, beginning to carefully put her cupcakes into containers for transportation. “Now, ya get a point fer each item you sell, and an additional point fer each item sold that you made, even if you didn’t sell that item yourself.”

“That’s why you’re going hard with the decorating.”

“Yep!” Angie grinned. “Don’t worry, we took into account the fact that yer still new to bakin’ and decoratin’. The cookies are bestsellers.”

“But they have to be made to be sold,” Lute said, elbowing Stan. “So ya best get back to work! You’ve still got chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle, and sugar cookies to make.”

“…And decorate,” Stan groaned.

“If ya want, I can make some royal icing fer ya,” Angie offered. Stan shook his head.

“No, I want a fair fight,” he said. Lute and Angie beamed. Lute clapped a hand on Stan’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit!”

-----

“I fucked up,” Stan said, staring at the pastries laid out before him. They’d set up their stand at the fair, and now that Stan saw his decorations next to the McGuckets’, he had some regrets. Lute had taken a route similar to Angie. His treats – the square-shaped ones like brownies, blondies, marshmallow rice bars, and pumpkin bars – had been decorated with adorable symbols of Halloween, like bats and pumpkins.

Stan, however, had gone the other direction. His cookies were decorated with bloodshot eyeballs, severed fingers, and brains. Even compared to the things sold by other stands, his realistic, gory decorations stuck out.

“I don’t know,” Angie said, picking up a cookie to look at it thoughtfully. Her nose wrinkled. “There’s prob’ly a market fer decorated goodies like this.”

“You did a really good job,” Lute said. “I have no clue how ya got ‘em to be so realistic. You have quite a talent fer artwork.”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna help me win the competition,” Stan groaned. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure I sell as much as possible. Speaking of, when’s my shift?”

“Yer last,” Lute said.

“What? But there won’t be anyone here to sell to!”

“Yer the best at selling,” Angie explained. “We had to take the edge off that skill by givin’ ya the worst shift. Lute’s the worst at sellin’, so he’s got the best shift.” Stan squinted at her.

“Why’d you make this so complicated?”

“We’re rather competitive,” Angie said, leaning against the stand. “It can get…nasty. The more rules we have in place, the more methods we have fer reducin’ potential bias, the less likely we’ll be sore losers at the end.”

“…Fair,” Stan said, thinking back to the first time he’d played a board game with the siblings. By the end of it, the normally amicable brother and sister had been at each other’s throats. Lute put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.

“Let’s go goof off a bit while Angie takes up the first shift.”

“Yes, please leave,” Angie said. She made a shooing motion. “You two ‘re scarin’ off customers!”

-----

Stan adjusted his eyepatch and grinned at his reflection. Being pirates for Halloween was the right choice.

Stan and Lute waited for Angie to finish adding up all the points. She let out a loud groan.

“Dangit!”

“Who won?” Lute asked. Angie scowled.

“Stan.”

“Wait, what?” Stan asked, startled. “But there weren’t any people around to sell to during my shift.”

“No, but yer cookies were a huge success. People loved the spooky decorations,” Angie sighed. She tucked the pencil she’d been using to add up the points behind one ear. “Ya took a risk that ended up payin’ off.”

“Great,” Lute muttered, slumping against the pickup truck. “I had a splendid idea fer costumes.” He eyed Stan. “Don’t pick anything sexy, okay? I don’t want Angie to be dressed in some short skirt ‘n skintight shirt.”

“I also would not like to see my sibling in a sexy costume,” Angie said. “And ya best not wear a sexy costume neither. We have pastries to sell on Halloween.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“There goes my plan.”

“Halloween ain’t until next week, so’s ya have a little while to come up with somethin’,” Lute said. “Just make it appropriate.”

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” Stan said, messing with his shirt. Lute opened the door. He frowned.

“Really? An eyepatch?” he asked. Stan looked over.

“You have a parrot,” he pointed out. Lute flushed slightly and adjusted the stuffed animal parrot affixed to his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Lute mumbled. Angie appeared behind Lute. Stan nodded approvingly at her pirate costume, particularly her tall, dark brown boots.

“Looking nice, Angie,” he commented. Angie grinned and adjusted her tricorn hat. “But, uh, the gun?” Angie looked down at the shotgun she was holding.

“Delilah can be part of my costume,” she argued. “Pirates had guns.”

“I don’t think they had shotguns,” Lute said. “And also, ya prob’ly shouldn’t bring a weapon into the bakery.” Angie sighed.

“Fine,” she groaned. She stalked away, then returned a few moments later, without her gun. “Come on, fellers, we best open up fer the day.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Stan promised. Angie and Lute left. Stan looked at his reflection again. This time last year, he’d been homeless, living out of his car, on the run from loan sharks. Now, he had a steady job and a place to stay, even if he and Lute did share a bedroom. He tightened his ponytail and winked at his reflection.

Not to mention, I make a damn fine pirate.

#in terms of timeline this takes place after Stan has moved in with the Gucks #but before he's started dating Angie #Bakery AU #Stanley Pines #Lute McGucket #Angie McGucket #my writing #ficlet #ask #beatrice-babe

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the-cookie-of-doom · 3 years

Text

Ronnie pushes into him with a filthy grind, groaning against Mitch’s ear. “Just like old times, isn’t it?” he asks in that slow drawl that Mitch hates and loves in equal measure. Any response he might have given is kept trapped in his throat by Ronnie’s hand over his mouth. Shame curls in his belly mixing noxiously with his desire; tears track down Mitch’s cheeks and over rough fingers. “Keep quiet, now, wouldn’t want anyone to hear us.”

That is the one thing they can agree on; Mitch would rather die than get caught—again.

But Ronnie doesn’t really want him to be quiet. He likes to hear Mitch, laughs at his strangled shout when a vicious thrust almost topples him. Mitch is left in a precarious balance; pitched forward on his knees, held up only by Ronnie’s arm across his chest, tan from days in the sun and corded with muscle. Ronnie wraps his other hand around his cock and Mitch hates that he knows just how to touch him to make him cry out from the pleasure, digging his nails into Ronnie’s forearm because he has nowhere to sink his teeth.

They aren’t quiet enough. Stiles must’ve gotten out of bed and decided to follow the creaking springs and harsh breaths and muffled groans. Silence in this old farm house isn’t good, but sound isn’t much better.

Mitch sees him first; a pair of warm brown eyes looking through the partially open door, wide with shock but unable to look away. It’s like someone poured ice water down his back, having a witness to his shame. It gives Mitch the clarity he he needs to finally pull Ronnie’s hand away from his mouth, panting freely and searching for an explanation, an excuse, anything to make this look like something other than what it is.

“Stiles—” he starts, but what can he say?

“Hm?” Ronnie looks up and laughs. Mitch shivers at the hot breath ghosting over his neck, covers his own mouth to muffle his mouth when Ronnie twists his wrist deliciously. “Look at that. You didn’t tell me you’re cousin’s a little voyeur. Come on in, darlin’, get a better look at Mitch here. Don’t he just sound so pretty?”

Stiles bolts—Mitch is grateful. He doesn’t want anyone to see.

“You didn’t tell me he’s such a sweet little thing,” Ronnie says. “I’m disappointed in you Mitch.”

Mitch rears his elbow back and it connects with Ronnie’s cheek with a satisfying crack! When Ronnie jerks away Mitch gets out of bed on unsteady legs, the sweat cooling on his skin as he hastily pulls on his—he hopes they’re his—jeans.

“Stay the fuck away from Stiles,” he bites out, chest heaving.

“You little bitch!” Rage burns in Ronnie’s eyes and Mitch is waiting for a fight with a sick kind of anticipation. He’s drawn the line in the sand—Mitch is standing to one side of the room while Ronnie occupies the bed, both of them still hard and aching and one way to relieve the tension is just as good as another. The door separates them, splitting the room down the middle with a stream of light from the hall. And for several long seconds of eternity, all that’s between them is labored breathing and burning blood and sticky skin.

Ronnie leaves the bed with a bright red bloom on his left cheek and Mitch hopes it hurts. Hopes he’ll get to see it bruise; it’s the least Ronnie deserves.

He gets dressed but doesn’t leave, walks over to shove Mitch back into the wall and fist a hand in his hair and force him into a kiss that makes his lips bleed when their teeth clash.

“You’ll come crawling back,” Ronnie bites into his mouth, a promise and a threat and an invitation that tastes like copper.

“Get the fuck out,” Mitch snarls back, shoving Ronnie away from him because if he didn’t he’d only pull him closer. He wants to pull him closer, let Ronnie bite more vicious promises into his skin, fresh bruises that won’t last as long as the shame. Around his wrist the old polished wood of his rosary beads burn.

Ronnie gives him a mean grin and condescendingly slaps his cheek. “Be seeing you, Jezebel,” he says, just to see the way Mitch flinches at the old nickname, knowing the memories it brings.

Ronnie leaves after that, grabbing his shirt and shoes on his way out the door. Mitch follows to make sure he does leave, and breathes a sigh of relief when he passes Stiles’ door to find it shut tight.

Once the headlights on Ronnie’s truck disappear down the long drive Mitch finally goes to shower, burning water cleaning the sticky fluids staining his skin. Too bad it can’t purify his soul.

The next morning had Stiles walking on eggshells, maintaining carefully neutral small talk while Mitch made breakfast. He didn’t want to upset the man by bringing up what he saw last night, and if Mitch wasn’t going to say anything, then Stiles wouldn’t, either. He knew what to expect from a conservative town like this, and that wasn’t the kind of thing you talked about over breakfast.

Stiles’ breath hitched when he saw Mitch flinch, and the careful bubble around the morning popped, fragile as anything.

“Who was that last night?” Stiles asked before he could stop himself. He thought he knew—remembered Mitch chasing him off the porch with a shotgun earlier in the day, and they certainly hadn’t seemed to friendly then. Stiles can’t figure out why Mitch would welcome the same man into his bed after then. Then again… what Stiles saw didn’t look all that welcoming.

“Who was who?” Mitch asked with careful innocence. The steam from his coffee rose in delicate wisps around his face, distorting his expression into a scowl. Beside him sausages sizzled in the pan; Stiles was sure they were the perfect picture of normally, with him sitting at the table and Mitch leaning back against the counter. It felt like the short distance between them stretched out into a chasm.

“That guy. I saw you—I mean, I wanted to ask—it’s just that you look like—are you okay?” Flustered nerves made Stiles ramble until he settled on that one simple, horrible question. Mitch bared his teeth in a grimace that might have been intended as a smile, and responded just as simply.

“I’m fine.” He put his back to Stiles and turned his attention to finishing up breakfast, taking the skillet off the burner so he could slide the sausages onto their plates, joining the already cooling eggs. “And there was no one here last night, either.”

“What?” Stiles asked incredulously. “Yes there was, I saw him. It was the same guy from yesterday afternoon.”

“It was just you and me, Stiles,” Mitch answered. His face was carefully molded into a mask of concern when he turned back around, setting a plate in front of Stiles. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Stiles frowned, running through the night’s events in his mind. He was so certain of what he saw; Mitch, hazy-eyes and tearstained, on his knees, restrained by that stranger from before. He remembered that man beckoning him into the room, and bolting away instead, shame pooling in his belly at being caught. Why had he stopped to watch? As soon as he realized what was happening, he should have left, but something held him rooted to the spot.

Stiles was so certain that what he saw was real, but then… it wouldn’t be the first time he saw something that wasn’t there. This house had a way of making him see things, distorting reality around him, changing it into something he shouldn’t recognize anymore.

“I think I’m just tired,” Stiles said, with a wretched laugh. Mitch gave him a sympathetic smile that didn’t reach his black eyes, and Stiles longed for home.

#cookie writes #stitch #im just gonna repost this bc tumblr keeps shadowbanning this post #so #southern gothic #mitch/ronnie

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chyrstis · 4 years

Text

The Broadcast

I’ve been sitting on this one for a while, holding onto a couple of conversations that I loved here while also wanting to set some things up for the next fic in the series, which is looking to be a long one, but as I joked on AO3, I have to be honest here. I really wanted to tackle more flirting conversations between certain individuals here, while also giving John some time to do what he does best.

Also, any excerpts from the lovely BoJ I do not take ownership of at all! Just a quick disclaimer, because it is referenced here.

Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (I’d claim pre-ship, but this is getting a little ridiculous) Rating: T Word Count: 5.6K whoops

Link to AO3!

___

A moment of peace never lasts as long as it should.

______________

The news was improving. Honest to God improving as it came in, and Hana almost didn’t know what to do with it.

With the chatter a mix of updates on the outposts taken, shots taken at John – which she took point on, just in case the asshole was tuning in somehow – and more voices joining in on the line by the day, things were looking up. It actually seemed like they were pushing the Peggies back in a way that counted, and she didn’t want to let up for a second.

John hadn’t retaliated yet. Not like before when he’d first sent people to run her down, and had taken more than a little pride in letting her know just what was going to happen next, but he’d taken measures in other areas to compensate for it.

The patrols hadn’t stopped. The road blocks were still operating further south and west of here, in spite of her and Sharky’s best efforts to firebomb every last one, and the line of Peggies that kept on stepping right into Grace’s line of sight only seemed to be getting longer, and longer.

It was starting to feel like they would never leave the valley. After weeks of watching silos disappear, and outposts fall, it felt strange to even consider being anywhere else, but they couldn’t stay here. Not with news coming in every day from the north, and the need to head back to the jail picking at her more and more by the day.

Sure, she wasn’t the only one fighting. God, she’d watched these people tear the cult a new one with a determination she envied, but she’d never wished harder that she could be in more than one place at once.

Just for the chance to see what Jess was facing up north, with Eli coming in over the radios. To hear Whitehorse’s calm rundown, how to size up a situation so you know for sure it’s a bad one, Rook, before she ran in a little too half-cocked anyway. Hell, to hear Hurk’s stories again, and to see the giant grin he’d put on Sharky’s face whenever the two were left to their own devices.

She wanted to do better. Be better for them, but some days it still felt like she was grasping at straws. Doing all right, but never enough, and she’d keep on trying every damn day as long as she was able to. Pushing, fighting, and hoping that what she was doing was helping, and not fucking things up further.

It was the very least she could do, and that kept her moving forward.

“Golden Valley? GVG? You there, over?”

Static came through, bits and pieces as Hana waited for the message to go through, and tapped her fingers along the steering wheel as they all waited. She heard Grace shift from the backseat, and noticed her leaning forward in the rearview mirror to better see the road ahead.

“Yo, GVG? Everything okay? Taking a while to get back to us there.” She frowned when a few scattered words filtered through, and thumped the radio with the side of her hand. “This is the Deputy. Just giving a quick heads up to say you’ll be getting a few visitors shortly, and I’d hate to stop by anywhere I’m not wanted.”

Located on the edge of Fall’s End, the gas station had become the place to spot any strange trucks trying to roll in, while also giving them one of a handful of safe places to fuel up. But that usefulness went both ways, and the Resistance and the cult had practically traded this spot back and forth until they had finally been able to give them the boot.

“-ep? Drop on by-“

But the broken message wasn’t reassuring her in the slightest right now. Not as long as they kept the beaten-up Peggie van as their ride of choice, and not until they’d pulled up and had a chance to speak to them all face-to-face.

Speeding down the road, the turn to the gas station nearly blindsided her. She’d known it was a sharp one, and Sharky and Grace had both tried reminding her in the hopes that she’d catch it, but it nearly flew right on by her without thinking. The tires screeched as she hit the brakes and turned, making Sharky’s arm fly up to grab the handle hanging above his head, and thought for a moment she’d flip the thing. The minute the van rocked back into place on its wheels, however, she flashed Grace a look of apology in the rearview mirror, and maneuvered them into a spot by the pumps.

Letting out one last screech of defiance, the van came to a stop, and her head nearly bounced off of the seat. “Sound off, everyone all right?”

Sharky let out a breath and flashed her a thumbs up. “Still got it, Dep.”

“Grace?”

“…Yeah, I hear you.”

In the distance, she saw hints of movement. Just enough to remind her that as deserted as the place seemed, thinking that was a mistake, and rolled down her window to let out a whistle.

Giving it a minute, she watched as Grace steadied her rifle from the back, and felt for the revolver she’d recently picked up. Snapping off shots with it still made her feel like she was fighting with the thing, but it worked in a pinch, and she’d make it work here if she had to.

Sharky started shifting in his seat. Kept his shotgun up even as Hana angled her head towards him with her finger pressed to her lips, but when he waggled his eyebrows at her, she couldn’t help the smile that slipped out.

“Quit it,” she murmured, turning her attention back to the store.

“Huh? Quit what?” He hadn’t even bothered whispering, and she could just imagine the kind of grin that came with that tone of voice.

Just being your lovely, ridiculous self. “This’s still clear, right Grace?”

“Far as I know,” she replied from the back. “Mary May hasn’t mentioned any changes, but they’re taking their time getting back to us. Better be ready just in case that means what we’re thinking it does.”

Shifting her eyes between the roof of the gas station and the front, there was a flicker of light up top. One that could’ve been a signal, or with Hana’s luck, the last thing she’d see before a sniper’s lucky shot. But soon enough another whistle rang out, imitating hers. It might’ve even been done with relish as they stretched the sound out, ending with a flourish.

She reached for the radio and tried again. “Hey, GVG. You got some friendlies outside. We got some friendlies inside?”

This time the voice on the other end picked up instantly. “Roger, and I’m on my way out to you!”

“…Grace?”

Looking towards the mirror again, she caught her nod. “On it.”

Sharky, however, was already opening the door to get out with her, not even giving her a chance to stop him if she wanted to, and Hana unbuckled her seatbelt fast to make sure she’d beat him.

That’s when the door to the front swung open. A woman jogged out towards her, smiling wide as she did so, and it wasn’t until she came to a stop in front of her that she realized they’d met before. She wasn’t entirely sure where or specifically when, but she’d always been decent at remembering faces, and a great smile stuck with her no matter what.

“Deputy! Let me tell you, you’ve got to pick a better way to get around. Some of us are twitchy to begin with, but you stop by with Peggie colors, and not all of us are going to be careful about it.” She held out her hand, and Hana gave it a solid shake. “Dunno if you remember me any, but uh, name’s Gloria.”

“Wait a sec,” Hana said, snapping her fingers, “from the Woodson’s?”

Her eyes lit up instantly. “Holy shit, you do! I make that kind of an impression?”

“Hey, anyone that manages to take control after someone yells at them to grab the wheel and jumps out’s pretty damn cool in my book. And you? You totally took that in stride.”

That made her grin all the more, and this time Hana couldn’t help but join her. “For a long time we thought you were…hell, either dead or on a one-way ticket straight to the bunker. But even after hearing you on the radio, it’s good to have a chance to see that ourselves.”

Gloria waved towards the roof, and the red flashing light - which had been a sniper’s sight after all - danced briefly across Hana’s chest before disappearing. It never failed to make her heart skip a beat, and she turned to give Grace a quick signal to stand down as well.

“Sorry about that. Greg’s up top, and with Roy inside, there’s only three of us holding this down at the moment. It’s not much, but you make do, and lucky for us we’ve been fine so far. Short of the radio bugging out every now and then, but it’s a work in progress. So…”

Adjusting her ballcap, Gloria glanced between her and Sharky, and gave them both an expectant look.

“What can we do for you?”

As it turned out, quite a bit.

The gas station itself was mostly operational, with a small amount left in reserve. They had some canisters stashed nearby, which was fine in the short term, but the town needed fuel bad, a fact that Mary May had touched on over the radio the last time Hana had called in.

John had drained the valley dry, but there were still tankers on the road. One by one, they drove in from the east, flanked by heavy enough escorts to tell anyone that taking one was going to be ugly at best, but the Henbane kept sending them. Faith kept sending them, and there was no telling how much longer that other fuel source was going to last.

So, they needed a plan. Taking any of them was a start, but if they wanted more than a scattered handful, they needed something solid. Something to start working towards, and much as she leaned on it heavily, sheer dumb luck wasn’t anywhere near that.

“Now, I know you ain’t talking about taking any of that shit without me, right?”

“Let’s see if I’ve got it right here,” she said, handing the gas can to Sharky. “I’m talking running down a rig filled to the brim with fuel, dodging trees left and right with the wind whipping around me, bullets flying everywhere, heart beating a mile a minute, when all it would take is a single shot to either end myself or set that entire thing off.”

Hana blew out a breath, and grinned wide when she caught him doing the same.

“Sounds pretty great, huh? And any of that’s leaning more than a little towards F and F, and what kind of a friend would I be to deny you a chance to get a piece of that?”

“F and F?”

Grace had been scanning their map, holding it down over the hood of the van as a breeze kicked up, and Hana hadn’t even known she was listening in. Her eyes were glued right to their marked routes, tracing them up and around the valley, and remained there even when Hana turned to look at her.

“You know, the Fast and Furious movies. We’d practically be borrowing a page out of their script taking down one of the cult’s trucks like that. Or would that be more Mad Max?”

“Dep, just so you’d know, getting in on any of that would bring a tear to my eye.” And judging from the small swipe Sharky gave them, he was most of the way there. “But Mad Max straight-up, and we’d need to go and grab Hurkie before doing any of that. I promised him if we ever got to that point in the middle of this, I’d be the first to roll up, flamethrower in hand, and we’d just go to town. Light all of the Peggies’ shit up bright enough to fucking blind people, which we’re still doing now, just without the assless chaps ‘cause it’s still kinda early for it. Leather also needs baby powder and shit so you ain’t suffering when it rides up your ass, and John’s probably hoarding it all.”

Grace’s pained look almost made her lose it on the spot. “I did not need that visual.”

“John, or the assless chaps?” Hana asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Though I’m having a real hard time imagining you in the full getup there, Shark. Baby powder or not.”

“What? I’m serious. Helps with the chafing and the sweating, and I know my balls would be swimming laps after a day of that. I’d just need to give ‘em a little light dusting beforehand, and everything would be right as rain. But going back to Hurk, if he heard he’d missed out on any of that? Well it’d just break his heart.”

“Just as long as you remember that we need to hold onto all of this.” She leaned back against the van, watching him as he unscrewed the cap and set the can down by his feet. “Fuel’s at too much at a premium right now to mess around with it. So try to save the fireballs for things that we’d all love to see go up, like John’s silos and signs. Or hell, that plane of his.”

“Done and done, my compadre, but just saying if it did?” He took out a cigarette and started lighting it, “Man, that would be one big, beautiful thing to see.”

Rolling her eyes, Hana plucked the cigarette out of Sharky’s hand only for him to whip his head towards her.

“Geez, Dep, are you serious? I’m down to one!”

“I’m thinking of your safety, bud,” she said, pointing at the setup in front of him. “Cigs and gas don’t mix. I don’t even need to mention the number of movies that have a little too much fun with that.”

“Uh, yeah, but that shit only goes down if you’re rough with it. Like making big ol’ sparks, holding the lighter to the pump, or dousing yourself in it, but knocking or hitting any of this while puffing away?“ He rapped at the side of the van with the side of his fist, and leaned against it. “About as safe as you can get.”

Pinching the cigarette between her fingers, she traded a skeptical look with Grace before giving him a long glance. “You know I’m still keeping this, right? After the last three I let you bum off of me, it’s only fair.”

That got a pout. “Aw, come on.”

“I’ll make sure to steal you a pack. Promise.”

His grumbling told her he didn’t agree one bit, but she still batted her eyes at him before turning on her heel to head inside. And as she started in on Sharky’s cigarette, might’ve made a mental pledge to go for at least three packs, minimum.

Rapping lightly on the door, Hana pulled it open only to be greeted by Roy. The older man dressed from head to toe in full hunter gear gave her a quick salute before resuming his perch by the boarded-up window. He seemed set on watching the front - a smart move considering their people were still out there and fueling up - and Hana hooked a thumb through the beltloops of her jeans before taking a look around.

She’d been here a few times before. Actually had a chance to fill up the old junker she’d bought from someone working at US Auto here, and remembered being annoyed she couldn’t find a single motorcycle. How she’d groused over it to the point she’d missed the cut off for the fifteen dollars she’d meant to gas up to, and swore loud enough that the other person at the pumps avoided making eye contact with her.

God, she wondered if that car was even there still. Her newly acquired, but mildly crunched white sedan, abandoned back at the station with her half-drunk coffee still sitting in the cup holder. Ditched in favor of rushing in through the front, half-awake up until she’d joined the others and Burke, and everything had just-

Hana sighed. Rubbed at her eyes, as she stood there and finished off the rest of the cigarette.

Probably not, but it was a thought, and as she stepped further into the station as a whole, she shifted her focus to checking out the rest of it.

Broken glass crunched under her boots as she moved down the aisles. Most were empty, the supplies either hastily cleared by John’s men, taken by people crossing through, or by the group currently stationed here. Walking by the empty freezers, she took one look at the baseball resting on a nearby shelf, and gave it a small push. It wobbled as it rolled, passing by the abandoned cans of tuna fish and spam as it went, and she held out a gloved hand to catch it when it reached the end and fell over the edge.

It plopped down right into her palm right as she noticed the book on the second shelf. Shoved towards the back and hidden behind an empty box, it had been overlooked completely, but she’d know the white leather cover of it anywhere.

The Book of Joseph, or rather one of many.

Just because she’d burned the one at the top of Joseph’s statue didn’t mean there weren’t others of these littered all over the county, and she tucked the baseball under her arm as she picked it up.

It wasn’t heavily damaged, and flipping through it she couldn’t find any torn or removed pages. Just Joseph’s words flying past as she sped right to the end, reaching the last couple of pages.

The light is now shining on you, in you; it radiates out from you. You are strong, much stronger than they are. You are just and pure. You are the chosen ones. I beseech you to join me, to join the family - to join your family.

Jesus. She’d never taken the time to read any of it before, but the message here bombarded her and right.

You do not belong in this world. You belong in the next world, the new world.

The old one will disappear. Along with everyone who ever doubted both you and I. I know not the details of the divine plan to annihilate this abhorrent, pestilent society. I cannot tell you-

She paused, and read over that sentence again.

I know not.

But she’d felt the fire with him. Stood right alongside him as the heat set in. Burned with him.

Her fingers traced the words. Ran over each one as they started to shake.

-there may be times of suffering. But the light that lives in us will protect us against doubt. For doubt is a serpent whose venom seeps into-

Throwing the book back onto the shelf, she drew in a breath. Held it, then let it out slowly through her nose as she stared it down. Willed it to catch fire, tear itself up, do anything other than what it had already accomplished.

But it stayed in place, gathering dust.

“Doubt’s a serpent, huh?” Hana muttered darkly, nearly spitting at the floor. “Sounds about right.”

The door to the front swung open, and she started. The flash of green quickly told her exactly who it was, however, and she put as much distance between herself and the book as possible, tossing the baseball back and forth between her hands. Poured as much of that anxious energy into it as possible, just so it wouldn’t keep on making her hair stand on end.

“Hey,” she said, catching Sharky’s eye once he wandered into the aisle with her. “Everything okay outside?”

“Yeah, gas’s in, Grace’s out front going over how to keep this place as Peggie-proof as possible, and all you gotta do is say the word and we’re gone. But I figured I’d head inside first. Wanted to check this place out, ‘cause it’s been way too long since I’ve been here.”

“Fond memories?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, flicking both eyebrows up. “I used to score some porn mags here.”

Hana nearly dropped the baseball. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, they’d be on that back wall, some of ‘em wrapped, the other half hidden behind the fishing and trapping ones.” He stepped past her, heading right up to the empty shelves as he glanced back towards her. “Just waited until they were busy up front to slip one or two out, just right up and under like so-” he pulled up his hoodie, and proceeded to pretend to hide his hand under it, tucking it along his midsection, “along with a pack of smokes.”

“Seriously? Porn mags?”

“Yeah, best part is that if you headed out to the toilet over yonder, you’d find a couple waiting there too. Now they never made that shit public knowledge, but if you’d check off to the side right by the trash can, you’d find last month’s lady looking right up at you. And yeah, some of the pages stuck together and others were torn out, but that shit was on the house. No guy in need’s ever gonna turn his nose up at that.”

A thoughtful look settled over him for a moment, along with a lazy grin before he perked up.

“Shit, you think it’s still there? Like I’m cool with the nostalgia boner I’ve got going on right now ‘cause it’s pretty solid, but if I found one in semi-mint condition? That’d get me fifty off of Hurk, easy.”

Hana wrinkled her nose at it herself, and started trying to juggle the baseball again. “You er, you do you, bud. Think I’d take a hard pass on that one.”

“Yo, it’s not like it’s woods porn, or nothing. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just a little far to go to find anything worth look looking at, and I know all of that shit’s either been moved or taken, and this’s right next door, and-.”

“Look, I don’t even know what woods porn is,” she said, cutting in before he could dive right into telling her, “but tell you what. It’s not quite fifty, but I bet you twenty I could catch another one of these if you tossed it to me.”

Bouncing the baseball between her hands, Sharky’s eyes were locked on her as she threw it above her head, and moved her hand behind her back just in time to catch it. “While juggling that one?”

“While juggling this one.”

His smile grew, and it took him no time at all to find something else to pitch at her. Sliding back into the mini-rhythm she’d found, he tossed her the second ball and brought it into the same pattern, doing pretty well for someone that took it up just to make an old classmate eat their words.

Sharky’s delight made it all worth it, though, earning her one hell of a smile when she started juggling in earnest. “Shit, you’re a regular wizard with your hands, Dep. Thought you’d toss it right back at me.”

Given that the compliment was on her juggling random shit without smacking herself, she had no reason to do so, but she might’ve blushed. Just a little.

“Yeah, I know I’m awesome,” she said, giving him a wink. “Just full of hidden unknown talents, but I’d still watch your head if I were you. …Might still end up throwing it your way if I slip up.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry much about me. I’ve got a set myself.”

“Of magic hands?” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Just how magical are we talking here?”

“I could get a few testimonials. I might be well known for things other than the ol’ Boshaw Special.“

Boshaw Spec-? Oh. That.

Her attention locked right onto his mouth before darting back to his hands, and she kicked herself for it. “Is that right?”

“Trick of the wrist, and, uh…” He made a motion with a few of his fingers, and she didn’t need to think hard to get the visual. “Well, you do that, you’ll get more than a few calls back.”

“Uh huh,” Hana replied, biting at the corner of her lip. Then nearly missed her catch when she failed to shake the mental image he’d conjured up. “So, definitely good with them then. But are you quick?”

“Quick?”

“Think fast!”

He yelped when the ball flew right past his head, his own face going red, and she might’ve felt a little bad for surprising him like that. But it was his fault for starting this conversation to begin with, and also for giving her way too much to think about when it came to-

“..puty? Hey, kid, you there?”

Grabbing for her radio, Sharky shot her a curious look as she pulled it up to her ear. If Dutch was calling, something was up, and she braced herself accordingly. “Hey, Dutch. Dep here. What’s going on?”

“Thought you might want to know before you get blindsided by it, but there’s a new broadcast out. One where John’s got something to say about your work so far. And here I’d say, ‘good’, because that still stands. But if he’s going to the airwaves to say something about it, he’s got to be feeling the pressure. You might still want to hear what he has to say.”

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered, scanning the old store for a television. If John was pissed off enough to put on a show and not call her, this could be a problem. “Shark, we need a TV, stat.”

He went for the other end of the store. “On it!”

“Thanks for the heads up,” she said, through the radio, “and don’t worry. Heads are on swivels, over.”

“Keep it spinning, kid.”

It didn’t take long, but after checking with Roy, the two closed in on the television stashed in the employee’s room in the back. It was still working, somehow, and after plugging it back in, Sharky started messing with the antenna.

“Eh, back this way. No, wait, back the other?”

She reached over to pull at one, and Sharky aimed it towards her. “Maybe if I jiggle it a bit.”

“No, what’s jiggling going to do to-“

“-will you be willing to pay it?”

John’s voice rang through the room, and she quickly stepped away to get a better look at the screen. The broadcast looped back, and once again he started to speak.

“My brothers and sisters, today’s message is not for you. Your dedication remains strong to our cause, and to the Father.”

“Motherfucker,” Hana breathed, taking in the stage John set for himself.

He wasn’t outside this time around. Not surrounded by his loving flock, with Joey not even ten feet away from him. This time he was alone. Sitting behind a large desk, he kept his hands folded in front of him. Everything neat and in place, as a solemn look entered his eyes.

This was restrained; stripped down, lacking the flashiness of the previous broadcast, and that had her worrying at her lip as he continued to speak.

“And for that dedication you will continue to be enriched and rewarded. Knowing full well that what you’ve done up until this point in time has raised us up in turn. Made us greater for all that you’ve sacrificed.”

Sharky rolled his eyes, pretending to jerk off as John leveled another profound glance towards his audience, and she gave him a small punch to the arm before turning back to the broadcast.

“No, this is for the Deputy’s ears, and for any that continue to follow her, I ask you to heed my words, and my message.”

By this point John had leaned forward, his blue eyes set on the screen. Focused on a single point, miles away, and with the flick of a switch, she’d helped him find his target.

“Because the path that you walk is one rife with conflict, and while you claim this is some form of justice, it will ultimately do more harm than good. For this petty need for destruction consumes all, taking everything with it, and with so much at stake, I ask of you, why? Why would you let it? Why would take away these tools, the lives of these precious souls right when they had finally found what they had longed for most?”

He dropped his eyes. Kept them focused on his clasped hands for a beat, then looked right back at her.

“Perhaps I was at fault for failing to notice it sooner. For failing to understand the depths of your anger, your rage, but I promise this will change. When my people find you, when they guide you to me, I will not falter. I will give you everything you need, every moment that you could ever ask for, just to find what festers in you so.”

Her fingers curled into a fist, her nails biting right into her gloves.

“Perhaps then it will be easier to accept. To see it for what it truly is, and you will not be alone in this, Deputy. Not for a second. But until then, understand what we have to do in turn-”

“Come on, H, you don’t wanna keep on listening to this, do you?” Sharky set a hand on her shoulder, snapping her right out of it. “Just more of his shit, over and over?”

After a few seconds – and more of John’s words, since he wasn’t done at all – she took in a deep breath and let it out. Leaned into Sharky’s touch as he shifted his hand so he could rub at her upper back instead, and tried like hell not to sigh at any of it.

“Don’t you know I’m in need of help, Shark?” she asked, glancing up at him. “Desperate for it?”

“Well, I’m desperate for a round or five with Casey’s all you can eat Ribs n’ Nibs, and probably a few other things John’d be fine with carving into me. Seeing as I am not about any of that, that’s a big fat no, but…” He inclined his head as he looked her over, and wet his lips. “I think you’re fine, Dep.”

There was nothing subtle about that, not at all, and she might’ve lost her footing for a bit. Let his statement really sink in as a blush came with it, and grinned.

“Fine?”

“More than fine,” Sharky blurted out, “just-um, you know what you wanna do. You go out and you do it. Just ‘cause John don’t agree with it, or it doesn’t help him pull any of the shit he and the others want – and seriously, fuck that – don’t make it wrong, or you. You’re just kicking ass and taking names. Doing a full day’s worth of that all before most can get in a shit, shower, and shave, and maybe some kind of breakfast, and that’s pretty fucking cool. Just doing that, like you do.”

That got a laugh out of her, and she couldn’t help the fond look that followed. “Like I do, apparently.”

He was smiling back at her now. Leaning more in her space than he was a few seconds ago, all while his hand stayed warm at her back. The height difference between them had never been extreme, just a half-foot at most, but from here she could easily gauge it. Note just how much she’d need to tilt her head back as she stood up on her toes to match him, and liked it.

“And if John’s got a problem with that, fuck him too. Though not, you know-“

“Literally?”

Sharky shuddered. “Yeah, no. Don’t do any of that. Earlier I was just saying shit out loud as I was thinking it, and uh…”

He let the words trail off, looking right at her as Hana leaned forward a hair. Not enough to touch him, but enough for him to notice. To look at her with the kind of awe he’d always try and stammer his way out of before, but hadn’t found a way to do so yet.

“And I uh…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t think doing any of that’s desperate.”

“You being desperate, or me?”

Sharky blew out a breath. “Shit, both?”

She was closer now, and didn’t wait to see what he’d do before giving up another inch. Just darted in, and planted a kiss right on his cheek. Felt the slightest scratch of his stubble against her lips after he’d failed to shave for two days and counting, and didn’t draw back as far as she should’ve.

Just lingered by him as he shut his mouth, and stayed put. Didn’t move, or sweep in to kiss her like he easily could’ve at this distance.

And the disappointment that followed shouldn’t have stung at all, but it did.

“Think it might just be me, though,” Hana murmured, and let her eyes drift back to the television.

To John as he looped back through his message, over, and over, hoping this would be the time it’d take.

“-will be judged, and your actions large and small laid bare before you. At that point, given the cost and those that fell to make it possible, will you be willing to pay it? Think on this. Because when we meet again-“

Jabbing at the power switch, she shut it off, and didn't linger this time around. Just gave Sharky a wan smile before heading back out front.

#far cry 5 #sharky boshaw #grace armstrong #john seed #deputy hana #female deputy/sharky boshaw #fanfiction #FC5 fanfiction #fic series: you'll be okay I promise #now to start tackling that outline!#and I'll agonize over the errors I might've missed in this one tomorrow #I've poked at it enough

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kpopscenario · 4 years

Text

Did I stutter? (Part 2)

Pairing: Yunho x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Word Count: 16.5k

Summary: Two mafia gangs, enemies to death. And one twisted, dark desire connecting the two.

A/N: Mafia!Au, Shooting, Kidnapping, Slight Gunplay, Degradation, Cursing

___

The second my eyes opened, I felt instant regret. My head hurt like hell, as if I had hit a rock or something. Out of reflex I wanted to check the back of my head but as I raised my arm, or well – wanted to, there was a new problem.

“The fuck”, with a deep frown on i stared down at the black rope that had my wrists tied together. Unable to move out of the tight knot, I kept trying to loosen it which turned out to be both hurtful and pointless. There already were little bruises on my wrists when I gave up untying the knot but I couldn’t care less about the slight pain. The more important point next to my headache was the lack of information I had from the place I had woken up in. It was the first time I looked up and tried to properly scan the moderate big room I had been in.

I had kept in – by Yunho.

A strong feeling in my guts made me press my lips together. Where was that man, why the fuck did he have to kidnap me and what happened to my taskforce. And then fear hit me out of a sudden.

I had let my taskforce behind. Although I had no say in them kidnapping me, I was the one with the responsibility over my team and I didn’t have a single idea what the enemy did to them. Mingi, what did he do once he was outside? The gang member inside the enemy’s bar? The snipers, everyone. Did the mission fail or did we get them?

There was one big question mark in my head as I stared into the empty, silent room. What would Hongjoong think, would he be upset with me? Would he already be looking for me? But…how should he, I didn’t even have a clue where I was. The next thing that went through my head was that I needed to collect all my belongings. Quickly I looked to my side and down my body, I was still wearing my usual uniform but the coat was gone. Other than that, everything seemed in place. But then…where was my gun? I struggled but eventually my hand had reached my waist but there was no gun, nor a belt. Nor the dagger belt!

With wide eyes, I felt slight panic mixed with a growing amount of anger rise up inside of me. Where have they put it? I needed my weapons, without them I didn’t feel whole. I sighed and had to look for them, immediately before this would end really bad for me.

The room had no light turned on but because it must have been noon already again, there was weak sunlight flooding the room, bedroom which it turned out to be. I was sitting on a bed. My eyes kept scanning the room and I figured out that it wasn’t anything too special really. There was a suspiciously big piece of furniture next to the guessed wardrobe, which I recognized as a weapon storage place. I needed to know what was inside there so I collected my shit and ignored the stinging pain I felt in my head as I sat up and then got off the bed. There was a plump sound my feet made against the wooden floor but after staying still for a few seconds, I figured out that nobody heard me so I kept walking towards the furniture, opened the drawers and…

As I had expected, there was an impressive amount of the newest and most effective colts, shotguns, knives and ammunition inside. Everything was neatly put in place and they all seemed as if someone had cleaned those weapons for hours, they wouldn’t be that shiny otherwise. My fingers brushed against the cold metal, those all were familiar weapons to me, nothing wasn’t new. After all, I knew the enemy too well. I had met them more than once, even if it had only been with distance between us. Even if I had only seen them driving past in their dark trucks. I had seen them, observed and analyzed them and their fighting skills. I had heard them giving out commands to their own taskforces. Yunho sounded very stern whenever he talked about business. I had once observed them at a harbor, their ships just arrived and he, the leader of the traffic business missions, seemed to have made it clear that his people wouldn’t want to disappoint him. He didn’t have the most intimidating face I had to say, but he was the type of man that had this certain body language that could completely throw you out of concept.

Those focused, eager but pitch-black eyes and black hair stood in contrast with the pale skin.

Not to talk about their dark uniforms with leather gloves and details I had never seen from too close before. And yesterday I had been a little too busy with trying to escape his shockingly harsh grip than I could have looked at my competitor.

I had no idea for how long I had actually been at the drawer and observed the weapons of the enemy but at some point, I could hear voices. They were quite distant and probably far away from where I was located, however it gave me chills to know that I wasn’t alone. Someone was in here, maybe it was Yunho? Maybe it was someone else or even a whole team. Fuck, where was my weapon when I needed them. Out of reflex, I grabbed one of the colts and managed to slide it in the back of my leather pants. Without the thick coat on, and with tied hands, it would be pure struggle to defend myself but I hadn’t been trained for so many years so I would only function with a gun in my hand. I was able to kick out and give someone a hook on the chin if I used my elbow. I wasn’t helpless at all.

Since it wouldn’t bring me anything to stay in that room, I decided to sneak on the enemy. With cat-like eyes, I looked out on the empty and dark hallway as I carefully closed the door to the bedroom. Every caused sound could have costed my life so I needed every muscle of my body to not fuck this up. Somehow I needed to either sneak out without anyone noticing it or a confrontation was what would happen. And then I had to be ready for everything. But first I needed to get closer so to know how many people I was talking about. As the door behind me was closed, I crouched down slightly and walked a few metres until I came to the end of the hallway, there had to be a living room around the corner since that’s what the voices came from. It wasn’t hard to tell that it wasn’t only one person. There were two, at least. And one of the two voices immediately made my heart pound against my ribcage. It was Yunho giving further orders to someone. While I closed my eyes and was careful that my breathing wasn’t giving me off, I leaned against the wall and listened to them discussing some business.

“Any response from them?”

“No, sir. Hongjoong must have been busy enough to scratch the rest of his people off the street.”

“Good”, Yunho’s cold chuckle and footsteps let my blood freeze. “what he deserves.”

“Sir, how long do you think it will take for them to find her?”

“Oh, let him look for her. It’s pointless anyways before he doesn’t give in and bring us the wanted amount of product. Either he will give us what we want or he can forget about his precious assistant.”

Yunho’s seemingly careless words made me gulp. He was keeping me here as a hostage and wouldn’t give me free unless Hongjoong gave in to some kind of exchange deal? Something in me hated Yunho for letting me feel helpless, I was useless here. Could I free myself? There had to be some way because he was messing with the wrong girl. I was miles away from being dependent on my leader and he was clearly underestimating me. He would regret taking me here.

“Is she already awake?”, as I heard Yunho asking that, I got tense – fuck. I needed to get out of here as fast as possible. But hell, I wanted my weapons back. After debating for a hot minute, I decided to escape. Footsteps were audible but I couldn’t quite assign them to a location. Yunho seemed to be alone again, maybe that was my chance to rush past the living room, hoping somewhere there would be the exit door. After scanning my surroundings again, I carefully stood up. I was about to sprint. Now or never.

But my plan got crushed by something forcefully pulling me back on the collar of my shirt. My breath cut short for a moment, hands instinctively wanting to grab the person but it was impossible with tied wrists to do anything useful.

“Got you! Sir!”, the voice behind me shouted through the hall and dragged my body forward, despite my attempts to kick back or running away. Before I knew, I got pushed into the living room so I almost lost my balance but the person behind me still had my collar in their grip. I growled and knew nothing better than to kick back, successfully hitting the person’s knee. With a yelp, the man let go of me to grab his leg.

“You’re in big trouble, you-”, the man who turned out to be one of the taskforce members of Yunho’s team, the one with the braided brown-purple hair, was giving me a cold glare and seemed ready to go for me. But he got interrupted by the chuckling man in front of us.

“That’s enough, San. I will take over.”

I followed the hurt man’s eyes and directly met the ones of Yunho. He was leaned against one of the column in the wide, expensive looking living room. With his arms crossed, head against the wall. Those black eyes seemed to dig right through me, and I didn’t like how that made me feel tingly. He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform in which I knew him. The black pants were decently covered with thin and thicker chains, let alone the leather harness that was over a simple black dress shirt. I must have looked over his appearance a bit too long since the next time I met his eyes, there was a decent smirk plastering his face. San was silently leaving the room and then there was complete silence for a moment.

I didn’t quite know what to think or say in that moment. It would be as useless to tell him to let me go than it would be to attack him. With my tied hands I wasn’t too much of a danger. More than sending him a dark glare and pulling in my wrists wasn’t happening from my side. Then his eyes dropped to my hands.

“I did a good job there, I see”, I huffed as a response. Ignoring the pain I got from the sensitive red skin under the ropes as good as I could.

“I don’t need my hands to knock you out and get out of here.”

That’s when he scoffed, showing his white teeth. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked around the couch, as if he were taking a walk in the park on a sunny Sunday.

“You won’t go very far if you’ve got the same strategy as yesterday. In two seconds you’ll be against a wall, tied up, and asleep again”, he was now sitting on the couch arm, one leg on the ground, one hanging loose. Eyes on me again but this time I had to look to my feet. What was it about the tall man that made me hate him but flustered me at the same time? This wasn’t usual.

“Try and you will see what happens.”

He sighed, not seeming very convinced of my quiet threat. From the corner of my eye I could see how his hand rose to the side of his torso. First, I didn’t get why but then it hit me. Yesterday. My dagger. I hurt him.

“Seems like the precious assistant isn’t that innocuous?”

That made his dark eyes meet mine in an instant. This time he wasn’t smirking, nor grinning. I must have hit him pretty well given that reaction. 1:0 for me. He seemed like it was bugging him that the hostage had caused so much trouble. It was like I prevented his mission from being flawless and that made me feel more powerful, braver even.

“It’s nothing more than a little scratch. Your toothpicks of daggers couldn’t even hurt a dog”, a frown was plastered on my face when he said that. I could see that he was lying but just wouldn’t want to admit how I had hurt him.

“Give them back to me.”

“What if I won’t?”

The way he was talking to me as if I wasn’t on the same level of intimacy as he was towards me made me sigh out of frustration. He shouldn’t mess with me, he really shouldn’t because when I lost my temper, I wouldn’t hold back. But he was just looking down at me almost casually – the kind of way that made me want to stamp. He only tilted his head in a provocative way.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m not the one in a rush”, I wanted to respond and defend myself but he interrupted me with a shrug. “And Hongjoong won’t rescue you anyways, so better lay back and obey.”

That really threw me out of my mind – what did he just say?

“Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?”, my lips parted but there was no sound coming out. He was throbbing with confidence I seemed to lose with every second I was standing in front of him, hands tied, standing there like an idiot.

“Why do you think I would obey to someone like you? As if.”

“Look at yourself”, I got chills running down my spine when his eyes travelled down my body. It made me stand straighter, legs pressed together. What was the point in this? Did he try to intimidate me or make me submit…because I hated how some part inside of me screamed for it but everything else screamed at me to stay strong. He just wanted to confuse me. That must be it.

I took a step back, a reaction against being that close to him. He looked up at me again and that’s when he stood up. It was only then when I realized how fucking tall that man was compared to my tiny frame. I barely could look over his shoulder but that view was better than to look up. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to see how he looked down at me as if I was less. “Am I supposed to be scared of you, huh? Should I be intimidated by your stern look or your pitiful threats?”

He came dangerously close, much more than I was comfortable with. There were only a few inches between him and me so I tried to breathe as quietly as possible. He shouldn’t notice how I was trying to stand still when my insides were basically turning. A few seconds past but it felt like an eternity that he was standing there, doing nothing but to stare down.

“Pathetic, I knew it.”

With a scoff, he walked past me. The second he was out of my sight I closed my eyes and breathed out the air that hadn’t left my body since he stood in front of me. I hated myself for it but the second he spoke up with a degrading undertone, I couldn’t help but slipped into an unfamiliar, odd headspace. Usually, I had no problem with my confidence or with having the power over others, whether it was business related or personal. But this time everything had turned around. Yunho had something that I had never seen in someone else and no matter how stupid that sounded, it was as cheesy as it was true.

I heard his footsteps wandering around behind me, my heart pounding loudly. I wanted to speak up, tell him that he wasn’t winning whatever he intended. I wanted to tell him that I would escape, I would leave this place and him behind, he wouldn’t win. But there was no sound coming out of me. Suddenly the footsteps stopped abruptly. I looked up and blinked, what was wrong, what would he do?

I tried to carefully listen but hell, I wasn’t prepared for him to step close and grab the gun that was put in my pants. Fuck, I had completely forgot about the weapon being there. He pulled it out and apparently checked the ammunition. I pressed my lips together and tried to breathe quietly, would he hurt me? Would he shoot me right here?

“What a clever thing you are, mh?”

A sharp gasp filled the room as I felt the cold metal against my temple. No muscle, not one single one, was able to move now. It was like my body froze to the spot. I didn’t even dare to breathe or turn my head. I felt his presence behind me, he was basically pressed against my backside, the gun held against my head.

“Y-you can’t kill a hostage”, were the only shaky words that I was able to bring out. In hopes of him to have mercy, I had to say something, anything really. But he only pressed the weapon more against my head, forcing a whimper out of my parted lips.

“Oh, you better bet I can”, his lips brushed against my ear, which caused goosebumps to rise on my neck. “I think you keep underestimating me with every time we meet, little one. Do you remember how I slit the throat of that one friend of yours back then? It was at the harbor I believe. Or that one time when I shot that awful shooter right between the eyes? Oh, how you’ve cried. I remember the way you were shaking. I could see how you were breaking, you were weak. You always think that you’ve got that blank face, a careless aura, the one of a true assassin. But look at you now. The little slut is all flustered and turned on.”

The gun suddenly brushed over my cheek, which made me flinch heavily. The coldness of the metal met the heated skin.

“You’re blushing because you like when someone shows you your real position.”

“T-that’s not true”, I whimpered, barely able to stand on my feet after the gun kept wandering down my face, down to my jaw, along the line and stopped on my neck – right on my artery. He could have ended it all, right here and there. The fact that he simply needed to pull the trigger and I would have been gone made my mind get messy.

“No?”, I gulped. “Say that again.”

“It’s n-not true”, I could practically feel my confidence leaving my body. It should be illegal how much he liked seeing me like that. How much he liked to play games with me while I could only stand there and let him do whatever he wanted. Again, I pulled on the ropes, wanting them to finally let me free. It was a bad idea, since now, my wrists hurt even more and caused me to scrunch up my face in slight pain. He must have noticed because he dropped the gun, threw it on the couch and then harshly grabbed my wrists to turn me around in a swift movement. A gasp escaped my open lips as I was practically forced to look up to him, but I just didn’t have the courage to. I didn’t want him to see that he was on the way of winning this game. I tried to get his big hand off mine but he only pulled harsher on the rope, causing me to trip and fall against his chest. He was playing and loved that I could literally do nothing about it. My cheeks were redder than any tomato at that point in time, another reason why I would never look up.

“Then why I don’t believe a single word that leaves that mouth? You can’t even say it in my face.”

“B-“, I didn’t even get the chance to defend myself before his other hand grabbed my chin and harshly lifted it so I had to look into those eyes. The blackness in them was so intimidating that I wanted to turn my head away but he kept bringing me back to the same position, facing him. I wasn’t prepared to see him up-close. I was basically forced to watch his expression which was as blank as it could be. No smirk, no frown. He wanted me to speak up.

He wanted me to tell him something he already knew.

“Say it.”

My eyes widened as the order hit me.

“S-say what-“, I instantly whimpered embarrassingly loud as he moved my chin further towards him. Only inches were separating me from him and it was way too much to handle. How badly did I want to look away, how badly did I want to escape his grip, this game.

“You know what.”

My eyes were slowly becoming glassy, the tension was clearer than ever when it became silent in the room and he waited for me to speak. I knew that he wouldn’t interrupt me this time, he wanted me to say it. But how could I? Everything about this was wrong. Yunho was the enemy, he held me hostage, I shouldn’t be here. My mission was to ruin them. To ruin him, to end him. But here I was, speechless about the power that man held against me. Oddly enough, I noticed how I didn’t even think about how fucked I would be when Hongjoong or any of my gang found out about this scene. I didn’t even cross my mind because all that fitted into my messed-up brain was the two words he wanted me to say. And no matter how hard I tried to prevent them from coming out, he would eventually find a way to force them out of me anyways.

“Use me.”

And then, everything happened very fast.

Yunho didn’t hesitate to crash his lips against mine, which I immediately kissed back. He was eager and it was hard to stick to his pace, especially he let go of my hands and instead held the back of my neck in order not to lose the contact with me. A few muffled whimpers and sighs from my side slipped between the kisses but he stayed focused and completely in control. His big hand wandered through my black hair before suddenly pulling on the very base, making me gasp embarrassingly loud. He didn’t waste any time but rather used the chanced to shove his tongue in my mouth, playing with mine. He was basically sucking the last drip of confidence out of me when he decided to pull on my bottom lip, making me feel his teeth. He repeated this a lot until I grabbed his harness as a way to support myself on my weak knees. Without stopping the make-out, one of his hands slipped down my side and grabbed the rope again. But this time, he suddenly let go of me and dragged me with him.

Like a fucking dog on a leash.

I almost tripped more than once because my legs were on the verge of giving in but he didn’t seem a need to slow down. He pulled me down the hall that I went through earlier, into the familiar room. He didn’t even let go when he closed the door – was he scared that I would run away? Now? To escape was the least thing I wanted to do in that moment. With big eyes I looked up to him but he didn’t talk, he didn’t look at me, nor did he give any instructions. Once the door was locked, he walked to the weapon storage, which was an unexpected move. The blood in my veins froze once more today, what was he thinking? I lightly pulled on my rope, trying not to stand too close to him as he looked through the drawer. Maybe his only intention was to end me? Was I stupid to have fallen for him that fast? Maybe I really was a brainless mess at this point.

“N-no…please”, slipped out of me, which caught his attention and made him look up at me. At this point, I must have looked like a puppy-eyed creature, not at all like a savage assassin anymore. Without looking at me, he took one of the freshly sharpened knives out of the drawer and closed it again. With a flip, he smoothly played with it while still holding me with one hand. My eyes kept changing from his face to the knife in his hand and he must have noticed since he sighed and stored it in the back of his pants.

“I won’t slit your throat if you think that…for now”, the last part made me panic and I pulled on the rope again but instead of pulling me back against his chest, Yunho used the force I was using and effortlessly made me fall on the bed, caused by my own action. With a soft huff, I landed on my back as he let go of the rope. It was almost embarrassing how easy it was for him to get what he wanted. With wide eyes I looked up at him, waiting for what he had planned next. But he only nodded towards the headboard of his bed and then dropped those black eyes back on me.

“Shift, arms above your head.”

I hesitated a moment, got lost in the way he almost sounded soft when giving that order, but when I saw how he impatiently rose an eyebrow, that thought was soon gone and I tried to shift. But there was a problem.

“And how am I supposed to do that with no hands to use?”

For a second he didn’t do anything, probably realizing his own mistake. But before I could even try to shift, he climbed on the bed himself, grabbed my body on the hips and with one smooth movement, I was lying in the new position. He was definitely strong, fuck. And how effortlessly it looked when he used his strength. I was slightly startled by his action but didn’t have more time to drift off since Yunho packed my wrists and pressed them in the pillows. Instantly, I arched my back and was breathing louder. He was hovering over me, knees placed on each side of my waist. As I was looking up into his eyes again, I felt a wave of curiosity overcome me. What was he planning on doing? He answered that question pretty quickly after as he leaned down and kissed me again, this time even more eagerly than before. It was hard for me not to be totally vocal just yet when he was holding my hands down with that big hand, had the other roaming up and down my side and kissed me like there was no tomorrow.

How badly I wanted to touch him too.

How badly I wanted to roam my hand through the black hair, across his neck or down that body.

I wanted to pull on that harness he was wearing.

The desperation alongside breathlessness was slowly rising the longer he went on to suck my tongue, bite or to sloppily lick over the outlines of my plump lips. Eventually, my eyes opened and I wanted to speak up but he had different plans. Within a second, his lips were attacking my neck, he was digging his face underneath the collar and placed wet kisses all over my sensitive. Tingles made the skin get covered with goosebumps, chills were running down my spine. I wanted to lower my hands in order to hold the back of his head but his hand immediately pressed the rope into the soft pillows again, which caused me to whine out loud. He stopped the kisses and between some licking over the freshly made bruises, he was mumbling, hot breath against my skin.

“No touching for you, slut. Wait for your turn. Understood?”, I was beyond dissatisfied with his careless answer so I kept whining and shook my head, making it hard for him to continue creating hickeys. At one point he just had enough. His patience was hanging on a thin string, which took a lot usually. He raised his head and looked down at me, his free hand eventually found its way to my throat. And I swear, the second I looked up into his eyes while feeling his hand on my throat, I instantly stopped with my whining. It was like a button that he needed to push to make it impossible for me to be bratty.

“Y-yes.”

I had seen Yunho going off before, and every time I did, I got me the same kind of feeling.

Every time I had seen him exchanging heated words with someone in a calm voice and then, a second later, he snapped their neck.

Every time he got threatened and then shot the man in the head without flinching.

Every time he hopped off their car, walked towards his enemy with the blankest face and then ended their lives without changing a single expression.

Every time I had seen him lose his temper like that, I realized once more how dangerous that man was. And this moment right here felt exactly the same. I didn’t know what he would do if his patience was gone completely and that was what scared me but made me press my legs even further together at the same time. He was unpredictable, instinctive, he was the definition of a loose cannon.

Apparently, my answer wasn’t satisfying enough since I suddenly felt an increased pressure on my throat, which made me hiss, my back was completely arched.

“Speak up, slut.”

“Y-yes”, I stumbled, a bit louder this time. The pressure against my neck didn’t disappear yet, which made me look between his eyes with slight desperation.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, I understood. I’ll wait for my m-my turn.”

He hummed at that and then let go of my throat. It was weird how I almost felt empty without it, I wanted him to choke me again but Yunho was already starting to eagerly unbuttoning my shirt. I gulped as I just let him do whatever, I wouldn’t complain – the opposite happened. I looked at his skilled hands working fast, however not fast enough for my liking. I whined and slightly bucked up my hips.

“Hurry up”, his eyes quickly landing on me made me shut up again. “P-please.”

“That’s how I like it. Beg for the things you want instead of whining around like an impatient piece. Not too difficult, no?”, I nodded with a slight pout on my lips. Thankfully he had unbuttoned my shirt soon and exposed the black lingerie. His eyes thoroughly scanned the dark fabric, for a little too long since I was already getting impatient again. I arched my back more and shifted underneath him, as some sort of sign to him to hurry the fuck up. Luckily, he then leaned down and kissed a path south, not too slow and with exactly the right amount of eagerness. My eyes fluttered close but when he reached the waistband of my pants, I just had to look at what he was doing. Within seconds, my pants and boots were lying on the floor in a random corner. Out of sight was out of mind as he looked up at me from between my now bare legs. When his big hands roamed up and down them while he checked if I still had my hands above my head, I bit my lips, my eyes were glistening at that point in time. For a moment, we were just staring into the other’s eyes, the room only filled by heavy breathing.

“H-how come that you’re still fully dressed?”, I then needed to ask, my voice sounded way poutier than I intended to. It made him chuckle quietly before he reached down his torso where the straps to unbuckle the harness were placed. I was so impatient but I didn’t even care anymore. He should lose those layers how he did it with me. While unbuckling the few straps, his eyes were still on me, which sent shivers down my spine once more. There just was something in that glance that made me feel things on a different level.

“Because I’m the one in charge, remember?”, his cocky response made me scoff and roll my eyes. Did he really change from stern to cocky just like that? I knew that his confidence was high but Yunho dripping in that sureness hit differently.

“Yeah, right”, I brought out in an impressingly clear voice. If he wanted to tease, I could play the same game. “There’s a lot of talking but where are the actions?”

Apparently, me being a bit braver wasn’t something he expected to happen that suddenly. Based on the way he was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, I took him aback at least for a second before he collected himself again. Without saying anything, he got rid of the heavy looking harness. It hit the floor with a loud sound but he didn’t flinch a bit. He then went on and unbuttoned his own shirt, pulled it off and there we were – Yunho kneeled in front of me, shirtless. The first thing that caught my eye was the bandage around his lower torso. The dagger. He seemed to notice how I bit my bottom lip since he rubbed over the rest of his chest before speaking up.

“Maybe it was a bit more than a simple scratch.”

“I told you not to underestimate my skills, you’re not the only one that can handle a sharp knife.”

“Ah yeah?”, my expression slightly dropped when he pulled out the sharp knife from the back of his pants and provocatively played with the tip of it. Based on how well it was sharpened, it could easily bruise him but he seemed to know what he was doing. And that fact made me worry on the inside. “Are you sure about that? Should I show you how good I’m with a knife in my hand?”

When he then slowly leaned down, placed one hand right besides my head and was much closer to my face with that knife, my breathing instantly got louder and more panicked. My body was stiff again and I didn’t feel like doing a wrong movement. Again, Yunho could just end it all.

“Yunho, stop playing, please”, the words just rushed out of me when he came even closer, the sharp tip dangerously close to my cheek. At one point, I even squeezed my eyes shut out of panic. I couldn’t speak up anymore, the panic overtook. I didn’t know what he was planning on doing. When I suddenly felt him shifting quite fast, I loudly whimpered and had the urge to make myself tiny. But when I felt the rope around my wrists getting loose the next moment, I opened my eyes again. With clear surprise and disbelief, I lowered my freed hands and rubbed my lightly bruised wrists. The whole point of that knife was to free my arms? I stared up at him but there wasn’t much time before his lips landed on mine once more. And this time, maybe because of the adrenaline, I sunk deeply into the kiss. In no time, I cupped his cheeks, then grabbed the hair on the back of his neck, pulled on it while the other hand dug into his exposed shoulder. I soon lost track of time and almost missed out when he unbuckled his belt and then got undressed completely.

“We’re even now”, I mumbled with a shaky voice but gasped when he suddenly ripped the shirt off my body – finally, I thought. Now that I could move my arms, I unclasped my bra and threw it away as soon as he gave me the space to. His eyes lingering over my chest was everything I needed right then. Soon, his hands cupped my breasts and started kneading them, a little too harsh but I actually loved it. I wasn’t used to be dominated like he was doing it now so the pain that I felt changed into pleasure way faster than I had expected. My breathing was shakier when his tongue suddenly ran over the sensitive nipple between his fingers. I arched my back and pushed him down even more, wanting to feel him all over me. He even teased them with his teeth, fuck, Yunho really knew what to do to make me submit. Even if I had my troubles to accept the circumstances- to be in bed with the enemy – I felt myself falling for him harder and faster than I intended. It was like I locked the rational thoughts away and got rid of the keys.

I hated to admit but my breast held in those hands and kissed by those lips felt really fucking good and made me whimper louder and louder, which turned out to make him get affected too. Before I knew, his thigh pressed down against my core. An embarrassingly loud moan made him chuckle, I only felt my cheek heat up.

“Someone seems to like that”, he kept repeating that actions over and over, riling me up in the right way but at some point, I craved more than just a leg against my clothed middle. So I slid my hands down his sides and lightly leaned my forehead against his.

“I need more, p-please.”

I ignored the fact that I had just begged him for something, it felt oddly satisfying. Hell, what was happening with me.My thoughts got interrupted as Yunho put more pressure against my clothed middle with his strong thigh. Someone seemed to enjoy teasing me like that, I thought as I looked at him with a shaky sigh. Out of pure desperation, I grabbed his slim waist and pulled him down against me. He wasn’t the only strong one here. Skin against skin. Bare legs brushing against others. My actions seemed to affect as both as I heard him grunting in my ear. The tingling feeling between my legs only increased as he was now completely pressed against me.

“Fuck, Y-”

I got interrupted by him shifting around. As I looked down, I realized that he was getting rid of my panties. His actions were so sudden and fast that I didn’t even have time to really say anything against it (as if I had complained). I could feel my skin tingling as he left me completely naked underneath him. In no time, he spread my legs more so cold air hit my middle and left me whimpering. He got between them once more but didn’t initiate anything such as finally taking me. Like a good slut. I would behave for him, eventually. He had already worked me up way too much and now he didn’t give me what I wanted? My expression got even more desperate, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him down but he once again seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“We don’t have to rush”, his words made me frown. Excuse me? Why all of a sudden did we have to take it slow? I was on such a rush on the inside that I would have jumped him if he wasn’t on top of me.

“B-but”, he shook his head and freed himself from my arms as he moved south. Still with those eyes on mine. I wanted to say more but something about the way he got down on me was making my lips locked. Yunho just shook his head again before he stopped. And just like that, my expression dropped. Just like my heart. He wouldn’t…

“One more whine and I will stop. Take it like an obedient slut. Is that clear?”, the way he said those words was a mixture between stern and soft due to his rather collected voice. Next to me, he really seemed the one in control whereas I already was ready to be taken as a brainless thing. I gulped loudly as he leaned down more but his eyes were still on me, waiting for an answer. And something told me that he wouldn’t do shit if I didn’t respond to him with the right words. So I tried to get a clear sentence out as I gave in and took the challenge.

“Y-yes, sir. I’ll be obedient.”

And that’s when the hard part started.

After he set my feet on the soft mattress, neatly spread, he lied his body down. Yunho firmly wrapped his arms around the base of my thighs before he set the first kiss on my heat. And fuck, this would be hard. I could already feel the urge to whimper out loud – whether it would be his name or another desperate plead. Whatever it would be, I wanted to get vocal. He basically made it impossible to stay quiet. The way his nose then rested on the spot right above my clit as he started to work me up in rather eager and passionate way made me throw my head back, fully surrounded by the pillows. His lips felt so soft against me, and when I closed my eyes, the tingling sensation seemed to multiply by thousand within seconds. The next few moments felt like an eternity. I felt every little brushing of his fingertips. I felt his hot breath making me even wetter than I had been anyways. I felt his how strands of hair tingled my tummy. But the most intense thing I felt was when his flat tongue made its way over my folds, only to tease the pounding clit. Everytime he did that, I was so close to just ache my back and moan that cursed name out loud. And he seemed to notice. That one time when I dared to peek down, our eyes met and I stared right into that darkness. There was something about the way he looked at me. It wasn’t like a normal human being would look at someone else. It was like a hunter taking one last stare at the poor prey that was totally helpless. Seconds before it would get wrecked by the dominant part. And that’s how it felt when he pulled my legs further apart, his nails digging into my flesh which almost made me whimper. But I could bite my lip in the very last moment.

Somehow I always senses when Yunho was lifting his eyes in my direction. But I didn’t dare to risk another glance. This was the hardest game I had ever been trapped in so I didn’t want to lose embarrassingly fast. The feeling I received from his tongue working wonders on my sweet spot told me that this game wasn’t for me to win. And something told me that he was familiar with that fact as well.

However, when he pushed his face deeper against my skin, pressed my thighs closer to him and started to eagerly suck on my clit, it was over.

A loud, shaky whimper filled the room and left an embarrassingly long echo. As if my action could erase what had just happened, I squinted my eyes even more and stiffened up. Every muscle of my body seemed to be under pressure right now. My cheeks couldn’t feel hotter than in that very moment when I felt him stopping. He just…stopped. Without further hesitation, nothing. It was over and a cold shiver ran down my spine. I was so damn close to an orgasm and so I opened my eyes and to my surprise stared into those black ones. He was still holding my thighs in a tight grip – a grip I could have never escaped out of. Something about the energy around him, something about the fact that he didn’t speak up, didn’t joke and didn’t scold me, made me slip even deeper into subspace (if that was even possible). Was he waiting for me to say something? Why should he wait, he was the one in charge.

A deeply confused pout appeared on my heated face as I waited for anything. A sign maybe. But he just raised one eyebrow and tilted his head a little. A simple action that almost made me cum right on the spot.

“Y-You…stopped..”, I could consider myself proud that I managed to get somehow understandable words out, given that intense glare he gave me.

“And why do you think that is?”, there it was. I was the one to answer that question myself. As if my cheeks could get even hotter, I felt new heat spreading all inside my body.

“B-because I have broken a rule?”, needless to say, that was exactly what he wanted to hear. It turned me on even more to know what he wanted. I knew what was going on inside his brain – but still he wasn’t making it that easy for me. I couldn’t help myself from shifting around a bit. This was torture. He didn’t seem as if he’d cut me off completely but yet he still didn’t just continue. Hell, he was right above my core – he could have just leaned down and made me cum in seconds. What else did I need to do? The single fact that he took so long to show any kind of reaction made me whine. But this time embarrassingly loud. Like the needy slut I was. “P-please, for fuck’s sake – do something!”

Too embarrassed to look up at him, I stared at the ceiling and tried to make the tingling feeling last as long as possible. I tried not to say anything else because I knew damn well that from now on, I would only sound needier and more frustrated the more I talked. It was a trap.

But then, when I just couldn’t act all tough anymore, I risked one gaze. And to my shock, he had that cocky grin plastered over that attractive face again. And that’s when it hit me.

He wanted me exactly in this situation. Right there, he had me trapped. He was in charge and it was the end of me acting against it.

Unconsciously, I tried to please him in any way he wanted. I was willing to be his toy if that meant he would take me finally. I had had enough teasing and breaks, I wasn’t gonna act up anymore. With a soft whimper leaving my closed mouth, I bucked my hips up, widening my eyes when I saw how I hit his mouth with my body. The accidental touch even made me shivering.

I was trapped under those pitch-black eyes, and since I really had nothing on my mind but him at that point in time, I could as well risk it all.

“I’ll be a good slut for you, sir…please end me. It’s a-all I’m asking for.”

“Took you quite a while to be obedient, mh?”, Yunho spoke in such a low, mumbling tone that I instinctively wanted to close my legs but it was impossible. With him spreading my legs even more, I was literally trapped. There was no reason I would try to get away from his grip anymore. He had put me in a certain space I knew I wouldn’t get out that easily. Meant that I leaned back down into the pillows, arched my back beautifully and almost broke out in tears the second I felt that sinful tongue on me once more. I swear to God, this time felt different. He didn’t give me any time to adjust to his fast pace, the opposite happened. Totally breathless, desperately gasping for needed air, I became a complete wreck underneath his tongue technology. His grip on my soft thighs was getting tighter by time and made me whince but hell, I couldn’t care less about the pain. Oddly enough, that pain felt better than any pleasure. I wanted more of it. I knew that I would be covered in bruises by tomorrow and I actually lived to see my body in a mirror soon. A masterpiece, all painted by Yunho.

Once the knot in my lower region was getting more prominent than ever, I desperately searched for somewhere to dig my fingers in. Eventually, I found those broad shoulders and pulled them down towards me. The impressive force that woke with me soon coming to a collapse was only semi-aware to me. All I cared about right now was Yunho’s tongue, and his long fingers pounding into my dripping core.

“C-close!”, I whined around - a really pathetic sound leaving my mouth as I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer. Desperately I shifted around underneath him, and even moaned when our eyes met. There was something different about the way he stared up at me, while his fingers were still working on my shaking body.

“Cum for me, slut. Now.”

He didn’t even have to say that twice. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced, in all those years, nobody had the power over my body that he had that night. The way he kept throwing orders at me and I slipped deeper into subspace with every one of them. My whole body was aggressively trembling, especially since he didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping pounding his fingers inside of me – even after I had cum all over them. With teary eyes and heavy breathing, I watched him doing his work on me, without any sign of exhaustion. Fuck, what was he doing?

Once the orgasm had rolled over me completely, it was more tempting to shift underneath him again, the overstimulation hit me unexpectedly – something I really didn’t see coming. Again, loud whimpers and exhausted whines as he stared up at me, apparently reading out of my face. Was he planning….he wasn’t planning on making me cum a second time, right?

“It’s … t-too much, Yunho”, I desperately hit his shoulders harder the longer I felt the additional sensation. “Yunho, stop!”

I threw my head back as he simply smirked at me, locked eyes on me. He was loving this game so much, maybe a little too much since I was starting to completely lose my mind once again. I pushed his shoulders, tried to push his chest away from me and even tried to kick my legs out of his grip. It was all helpless. He was the one deciding whether I could get free or not. It was all in his hands. As his fingers pounded into in an even faster pace and with less mercy on the tight knot in my stomach, he suddenly leaned over my small frame, now caging me underneath him. I hated how his face was only inches from mine, his torso brushing against mine as my trembling body kept moving up and down. Without having to look up into those eyes, I knew that he was scanning my expression. He was eating it all up. I threw my head to the side, afraid of him chuckling at the pitiful face that was so close to his. My cheeks were literally burning at that point.

“Look at this. Pathetically trying to escape. Not able to take the extra sensation, a little overstimulation already is enough for the slut? A pity. Maybe I should stop completely then? If you can’t even take the treatment properly…And you better use the right name for your dom next time you open that dirty mouth.”

Alone the tone he used, talking down on me without any sense of sympathy in his voice, my body was trembling even harder. It got hard to breath, if he was so damn close to my face. But what I could do was shaking my head, with a deeply frustrated expression on my face.

“D-don’t stop, I can bear through it! I’m strong, Yunho don’t stop, Yunho please, I-“

I couldn’t even finish the sentence since within a second, I got turned over. Face down into the pillows was the position I had found myself in after having felt his strong hands on me. My pathetic attempts to escape that new position were useless the moment I felt him kneeling behind me. Not being able to know what he was doing back there made my body shake heavily. Eventhough I wasn’t physically trapped underneath him, I knew better than to fight against him right now. His mindset wasn’t easy to read so he could completely rip me in two in one moment and brush hair out of my heated face the other. I could hear my heart loudly pounding as I registered a lack of physical presence by the male. The hell was he doing? I was tempted to look back but the second I wanted to, I got hit by a sharp, stinging pain.

A loud gasp echoed through the room as I had the urge to curl up or at least rub over the aching spot on my ass.

“What-”

Another spank,

another whimper.

“That’s the only thing bad sluts deserve. Do you even know why you’ve been bad? Mh?”, he was using that tone again on me. Like I was nothing but a disappointment. As if I was nothing more worthy than a doormat to step on. But honestly, if he wanted to step on me, I would thank him in a thousand ways possible.

His big hand on the already hot sensitive skin made me hiss sharply. My eyes were squeezed shut as I bared through five more spanks without having to shift. But after he had lifted his hand once again, I loudly gasped and lied on my side, desperately needing a break while unconsciously loving the tingling flesh. I only heard a cold chuckle from behind, which made me feel even tinier.

“I-I have learned my lesson, sir. S-sir, not Yunho…It’s Sir, I’m so sorry! I won’t repeat the mistake ever again…please, have mercy and just-”

“And just what, mh?”, all of a sudden, the black-haired man was hovering on top of me, just like that. His presence was clearer and more evident than anything else. He had his arms on either side of my shoulders, supporting his weight and caging me at the same time. One knee was right underneath my exposed ass, and the other one was caging my waist in between both legs. I had no chance of moving like that, except for desperately wrapping my hand around his wrists to have something to hold on to.

“Just finally fuck me. W-wreck me, sir.”

My fingers dug into his wrist as I suddenly felt his knee grinding against my core. He didn’t tease this time, he was eager. The pressure of the grinding made me whimper louder, I arched my back but to my surprise, I collided with his warm chest. He pressed himself even closer by then, he didn’t even left space between our bodies, not one bit. I was actually caged and being in this position made me think of me as nothing but a little slut for the man behind me. Soon, he started to grind in a certain rhythm. He was doing it while low grunts left his lips and echoed through the rooms, in sync with my high-pitched whimpers. If he continued rubbing himself against me like that, I would just cum a second time, without him even having fucked me. That thought made me shift more underneath him, as I pressed core slightly against him.

“P-please, sir…Fuck me already. I-I…I need you so bad it hurts…”

My face was completely heated up as I heard my own pathetic sounding stutters leaving my lips, in hopes to finally get what I had been begging for ages now – at least that’s how it felt. Luckily, Yunho seemed to have gotten enough pleasure at teasing me since the knee was gone the next second and left me with nothing but cold air. It made my body tremble – the loss of touch made me crave him even more. It was like he was my drug and I was hooked on the feeling. And hell, how bad I finally wanted him to wreck me.

“Enough begging for tonight, don’t you think that the slut deserves a treat now?”, the voice right at my ear made me shudder. How come that a simple sentence like that affected me so much now? But instead of thinking more about it, I nodded my head like the needy slut I was and turned my head back, so I could look at what he was doing. To my shock, I watched him reaching for a condom from his nightstand. The little plastic wrapping soon was torn apart and put onto his throbbing length. A sight that I could get used to. Our eyes only met for the split of a second before Yunho was all over me again, knees now spreading my trembling legs, that I wanted to close by instinct. But this was impossible. As much as I would try to work against his position, I wouldn’t stand a single chance at making him lose his balance. He seemed impossible to get out of his concept right now and this only made him hotter. Sooner than I knew, I felt the cold tip of his cock on my entrance, not teasing me anymore. It seemed like he had had enough of it as well. Based on how fucking hard he felt, he had tortured himself before with that slow pace. But now the dynamics seemed to have changed for good. This was it.

An embarrassing loud whimper escaped my lips as the tip was shoved into my core, luckily the wetness was enough to make him practically slip in without problems. Instead of taking his time with inserting, there was one hard thrust until he was fully inside of me. One single thrust that already made me see stars.

“H...f-fuck-!”, it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that my legs were about to give in already after he had slowly pulled out but right back inside. Finally, the room got filled with deep grunts and curses from the man on top of me, slowly he started to pick up a pace. It was quite fast given that he hadn’t given me any time to adjust to size and length. I hated how much I had to shift around when he had just started fucking me. The affect he had on me shocked me but was electrifying at the same time. As my toes curled up and my hands gripped the bedsheets desperately, I felt his body pushing against me with every thrust.

Skin slapped against skin.

Hot panting thickened the air.

Eyes kept fluttered close as I just couldn’t keep them open once Yunho started to pound into me.

“That’s what you deserve, mh”, I gasped as his lips brushed over my neck so suddenly. He was now laying on top me, nothing would have fitted between our bodies. I was pressed into the mattress and my face into the ocean of pillows. As I wanted to shift around with my arms, he suddenly put his hands on top of mine, intertwined our fingers and made sure my hands would be pinned down. Now he had full control over me, the realization hit me once again. My shaking body underneath his, his lips on my neck, slipping out teasing words that would seriously get me even more turned on that I already was. Before I knew, I felt teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin, making me have the urge to hide my shoulder from him so it wouldn’t tickle that much. As he went on and spread my whole shoulder and neck with hickeys, I thought about how hard it would be to hide them. They would be everywhere, a constant reminder of what happened here. Soft whimpers escaped my lips as he shamelessly was fucking me, grinding his body on top of mine while creating deep purple hickeys.

His hips rolling against mine, causing him to pound into me the deepest he could possibly go. With all of that combined, it was impossible for me to stay quiet, not even one bit could I keep my mouth shut. Soft, frustrated and shaky pleads, cut whimpers and loud panting sounded muffled against the pillows.

“Right, slut? You don’t deserve more than getting that pussy fucked real good. I’m gonna wreck you until you can’t walk for days, weeks. Everywhere you go, you’ll get reminded of me. You’ll get reminded of this…here. Me fucking you so well that you will be having troubles catching your breath. In the office, in a meeting with your boss – you will feel your sore ass. Everyone will notice your weird walk. And they will all want to know who has fucked you this good that you’re affected days after the accident. They want to who did this to you, who could easily dominate the usual tough girl. There’s only one problem with that. Well, you can’t tell them, little one. Got it? Have you understood what I’ve just told you?”

“I-…y-“, there was no way I could build a real sentence right now, the constant pressure of his harsh thrusts took every space of my brain, I couldn’t help but to whimper after every single thrust. This seemed to bother the grunting man behind me, as I soon felt a strong arm around my throat. The gasp that left my lips by then was loud yet muffled since he applied pressure, literally choked me with his arm while fucking me into the mattress. His face was so close that his nose pressed into my cheek. He could have just kissed me straight away but he was waiting for my answer, I knew his behavior by now. He stared down at me, letting me hear his heavy breathing.

“I haven’t heard an answer yet, so? Slut, you shouldn’t let me wait if I want something. Or else I guess the slut needs another round of spanking?”, right then, an especially harsh thrust hit my g-spot and made tears shot into my eyes.

“N-no! No….I won’t tell anyone a-about us… I swear, Yu-…Sir, I swear!”, I sounded so fucking pathetic, what had he turned me into? “I won’t, I promise!” It was the biggest challenge to keep talking while Yunho was constantly pounding into me, thrusts fast and merciless.

“Not even to Hongjoong?”, he then moaned into my ear, causing me to cry out louder than before. His thrusts were constantly harsh and impressing fast, so I didn’t even had time to catch my breath for a hot second. I needed to answer him, I was very well aware of that but how could I when he fucked me like that? Of course, he did it on purpose to test me, there was no doubt about that. Some time was passing, the pressure became more real and I just stumbled over desperate words.

“N-no, not even to him, I won’t tell anyone! I will keep it a-a secret!”

Yunho once again hummed into my ear and then started to slow his pace slight down, only to grind into me. He was as deep as never before which caused my whole body to move under his. I felt his strength pushing me for- and backwards, my frontside was getting tingly from all the times I was rubbing against the sheets. The whimpers only got louder and eventually turned into soft cries.

“Glad to hear that. And little one? I will know when you tell anyone. The information will come to me, believe me. So don’t even try to fool me. It won’t turn out well for you. Understood?”

“Y-yes!”, I cried out and felt how there was a knot in my stomach that’s been getting tighter and tighter, causing me to literally drip over him the longer he fucked me into the mattress. I felt every single motion, I felt him slipping out and shoving back in even harsher. Everything. “S-sir? I-I’m so close already…”

There was a slight pause before I heard the male chuckle lowly into my ear, once again, tingles rose on my whole body. I was getting embarrassingly hot again, why was I already close to my second orgasm? Yunho really knew how to tease one and then get them on cloud nine without even blinking twice.

“Already close? How pathetic is that? Please”, the way his voice wasn’t more than a vibrating hum against me neck already pushed me closer to my orgasm. His words only made me want to bury my face into the pillows even more. Luckily, some strands of my black hair covered some parts of my face from him.

“V-very pathetic, I-I know….but please-”, a cold shiver ran down my hot body as he hit a specific spot inside of me that cut off my sentence completely. I was so damn close and he was fucking me so well. With so much eagerness, power holding me in my place as his slut while his lips on my neck drove me mad almost.

I was his and he was mine, at least in that moment.

“Cum for me, slut.”

When I felt like coming any second because of how sharp his thrusts suddenly got, his face suddenly distanced from my neck – and left me cold. But to my surprise, his hand around my throat rose my chin, and seconds later, his lips laid on mine. The kiss ran me like a river. It was eager and messy, tongues fighting for some kind of power even if he was the clear winner anyways, but on the other side, I felt some kind of deeper devotion. It was like I was fully his, there was nothing else but him in my head right now. Everything seemed to blurr, even the fact that I was getting pounded into. Time seemed to stand still – even if it was only for a second, it felt like an eternity.

That was until I loudly whimpered into open-mouthed kiss, and came all over him.

My body was a trembling mess under his as he kept shoving in and out, in order to chase his own orgasm which didn’t seem too far away either. At this point I couldn’t keep quiet, thank God all the members of his taskforce were out of the house because they would clearly had heard us. Unable to beg him to cum inside of me, I just pressed my forehead against his, dug my nails into his wrists and even tried to push back to meet his thrusts. And apparently, it worked. Sudden loud gasps and curses slipper over those pinkish lips as I kept repeating the movement.

“Y-Yunho, cum”, I managed to get out as he seemed on the peak of his power. I wanted nothing else than him losing some of this untouchable attitude, he seemed in control all the time, but now I wanted to see that special expression in his eyes when everything would get over him like a wave. With my last power, I pushed back at him with more force, causing him to hit me deep. And that was the final thrust he needed.

“F-fuck, fuck��, with the clearest voice he had used yet, he locked his hips with mine, didn’t thrust back anymore but shot his load into the condom. I could feel his body trembling, vibrating against my back. His loud panting mixed with mine for a long minute before he rolled off me. It looked like his whole power, the one which he was drooling in before all of this in the bedroom happened, left his body. He had used it all on me, and it showed. I was completely uncapable to move from my position, he didn’t even need to pin me down anymore. As the weight lifted from my slim body, I felt lighter as never before. Nevertheless, I already missed the warmth that had surrounded me all that time. As I was trying to control my breathing to a steady rhythm again, I heard something getting thrown into a metal bin. Then it was silent- if you ignored the heavy breathing.

The silence brought back the thoughts that filled up my whole brain before Yunho threw me on the bed. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to do some thinking now.

“What have we done”, Yunho didn’t seem upset, yet he didn’t sounded incredibly amused either. Actually, he was back at being hard to read. I never knew what he was thinking before and now I felt as if he went back to that mysterious behavior. It made me turn around, I was now facing the man who had a slight blush on and some strands of sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. Somehow he had never looked better than right now. Somehow…vulnerable. Touchable, not so distant. It seemed like I had been staring for too long since he suddenly turned his head and face me as well. When our eyes met, we both started chuckling. Whatever it was that was amusing, we both were on the same ground.

“I have no idea”, I stated, the first time in a steady voice again. It made me grin even more, don’t ask me why. Just the simple fact that we had hated each other for…forever, still there always had been that tingly feeling in my stomach whenever we had interacted. And it led us to here, in his fucking bed. And now, after degradation, rough treatment and total ecstasy, we looked at each other and giggled like the best friend in the world. “This is so twisted, and confusing! How did it even come to this…ah”, I sighed and looked at the ceiling for a while. Actually, I didn’t regret being with him one bit. Maybe regret would hit me on the way home, when I cursed at the sky for my soreness or when I had to face the struggle of hiding dark marks. But right now? Not one bit of it. I smiled to myself and then turned my head back towards him, only to see him having already looked at me, with a sheepish but genuine smile. It was so odd and rare to see Yunho like this that I blushed.

“W-what is it?”, his only answer was a shrug.

“You’re cute when you’re blushing.”

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kodigriffinofficial20 · 4 years

Text

As promised here is the filled out version of the character sheet. I know it has been a whole day later but here it is.

“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Benjamin Rose Steven Rodgers

Reason or meaning of name: “Benjamin” was his grandfathers name (on his fathers side) “Rose” was his grandmothers name (on his mother’s side) and because his last name is Rodgers the family wanted to put Steven in there somewhere because of Captain America.

Character’s nickname: Captain of America.

Reason for nickname: He was in the military and because of last name and rank of Captain he was dubbed “Captain America”

Birth date: November 30th 2030

Physical appearance

Age: He is 29 at the beginning of my book.

How old does he/she appear: 25ish-ish

Weight: 265

Height: 6 foot 3

Body build: very muscular.

Shape of face: I don’t know, think Steven Amell-ish

Eye color: blue

Glasses or contacts: neither.

Skin tone: kinda light but tans well. Think Alycia debnam Carey

Distinguishing marks: I don’t remember any right now.

Predominant features: I don’t know what this means.

Hair color: brown

Type of hair: I don’t know, very over grown and long. you would have to read the book to understand why.

Hairstyle: I don’t know, very over grown and long. you would have to read the book to understand why.

Voice: kinda deep but not like James earl jones. Again think Steven Amell

Overall attractiveness: Again think Steven Amell mixed with Chris Evans and a little bit of grant gustin? I don’t know that’s what I see when I picture him anyway.

Physical disabilities: can’t draw, afraid of heights, overly sarcastic, bad luck, gets injured a lot, kinda clumsy.

Usual fashion of dress: prison clothes for now.

Favorite outfit: pajamas.

Jewelry or accessories: watch, AR-15, shotgun, .45 ACP, 9mm, m4 carbine, and Kevin.

Personality

Good personality traits: loyal, stubborn, fight till last dying breath, survivor, sarcastic, funny, a leader, wise, adapts well, a good friend, trusting, trustworthy, and Macgyver like.

Bad personality traits: stubborn, sarcastic, trusting, puts himself into danger to often, not cautious enough, unlucky, clumsy, self deprecating, impatient,

Mood character is most often in: sarcastic anger and story telling indifference.

Sense of humor: sarcastic, self deprecating, light hearted.

Character’s greatest joy in life: Kevin.

Character’s greatest fear: Heights.

Why? Because heights are freaking scary man, that’s why.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?

There are a lot of different things that could happen that could do that. But I can’t say any of them without spoiling the book.

Character is most at ease when: petting Kevin while reading him a book.

Most ill at ease when: when Kevin takes to long to come back from his outings.

Enraged when: a crop dies or an earthquake happens.

Depressed or sad when: one of the birds dies or When thinking about everything that has happened to him.

Priorities: escape

Life philosophy: survival and petting Kevin (which was a new addition)

If granted one wish, it would be: freedom from where he is

Why? Because he doesn’t like it there

Character’s soft spot: Kevin or an old friend from the Army named Flash.

Is this soft spot obvious to others? If it’s Kevin than no because there are no others. If it’s Flash than yes it’s very obvious.

Greatest strength: his gun abilities.

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: heights.

Biggest regret: going to prison

Minor regret: not asking some questions of Certain people.

Biggest accomplishment: Winning the Medal of Honor/silver star/Purple Heart.

Minor accomplishment: Saving America

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: none that I have put into the book or can think of.

Why? Because I can’t think of any.

Character’s darkest secret: I can’t tell you that.

Does anyone else know? Not even me.

Just kidding, but no, literally no one on planet earth knows but me.

Goals

Drives and motivations: survival

Immediate goals: getting out of there.

Long term goals: finding out what happened then finding Jimmy and getting revenge.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: by blowing stuff to smithereens and walking out and then hunting him down and shooting him in the face.

How other characters will be affected: they will also be shot in the face.

Past

Hometown: Denver Nebraska USA

Type of childhood: Nice? I don’t know what the question wants from me.

Pets: one golden retriever when he was six but it died when he was 13.

First memory: going to court with his father

Most important childhood memory: his parents dying when he was 14

Why: because his parents died when he was 14

Childhood hero: his “uncle” Greg

Dream job: Army soldier

Education: high school

Religion: Christian

Finances: very good.

Present

Current location: undisclosed location in in the USA

Currently living with: Kevin

Pets: several birds

Religion: Christian

Occupation: none

Finances: none

Family

Mother: dead

Relationship with her: none but before she died it was very good

Father: dead

Relationship with him: none but before he died it was very good

Siblings: none

Relationship with them: none

Spouse: none

Relationship with him/her: none

Children: none

Relationship with them: none

Other important family members: none

Favorites

Color: blue

Least favorite color: yellow

Music: Dan+Shay

Food: Chicken Alfredo, fried chicken, steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, cheddar and broccoli soup are his favorite foods.

Literature: anything by Jules Verne or Kodi Griffin

Form of entertainment: reading

Expressions: “We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it” or when asked how things are done or how he did that he replies “fermentation”

Mode of transportation: truck or walking

Most prized possession: Kevin or AR-15

Habits

Hobbies: working out, reading, meditating, listening to music, and writing in a journal.

Plays a musical instrument? The drums but that was a long time ago.

Plays a sport? American football back in high school.

How he/she would spend a rainy day: playing in the rain or on his bed reading with Kevin.

Spending habits: none anymore.

Smokes: absolutely not.

Drinks: occasionally but not really.

Other drugs: absolutely not.

What does he/she do too much of? Danger, working out, and reading.

What does he/she do too little of? Safety

Extremely skilled at: shooting, fighting, blowing things up, surviving, getting hurt, and petting Kevin.

Extremely unskilled at: doing nothing, waiting, art, and cooking.

Nervous tics: sarcasm and biting nails.

Usual body posture: that of a soldier but sometimes a teenager.

Mannerisms: Not really sure.

Peculiarities: I don’t know.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? A realist which I guess means he leans more on the pessimist side

Introvert or extrovert? An introverted extrovert?

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil

Logical or emotional? Logical

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Methodical and neath

Prefers working or relaxing? Working

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Confident

Animal lover? Yes siree

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: wants himself to live confident about his looks and doesn’t care what people think about him or his looks.

One word the character would use to describe self: fighter

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “A survivor until the bitter end. A fighter for freedom, peace, justice, and the American way. And if all else fails kill everything I see and be the last one standing.”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His sense of humor

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Judge of character.

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Eyebrows

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Hands

How does the character think others perceive him/her: He doesn’t care about what others think of him because he is his own man and his own self worth is what truly matters.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: the way he approaches certain things

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: doesn’t like them all that much. yes people are needed but most of them he don’t care for

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Yes

Person character most hates: jimmy

Best friend(s): Flash and Kevin

Love interest(s): none, at any point in my book

Person character goes to for advice: none maybe Kevin

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Kevin

Person character feels shy or awkward around: none

Person character openly admires: Kevin

Person character secretly admires: Kevin

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Flash

After story starts: Kevin

#writebler #writing templates #writeblr positivity #writing resources #write #writers #writing #free write #writer #writeaway #l writes #my charcters #character template #characters #original character #fictional characters

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devnny · 5 years

Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

i like to call this chapter ‘AH, devi’s crazy TOO.’

[additional end-of-chapter drabble here: X ]

Devi watched Johnny brood sourly in the reflection of her rearview mirror, and couldn’t help but smile in amusement. There had been an argument between him and Tenna about who would be sitting in the passenger seat for this particular car ride – an argument that Johnny had bitterly lost.

“Who the fuck cares if you ‘called shotgun’…” She managed to hear him grumble under the thunderously loud music, and she snickered to herself.

Maybe she would pacify him with kindness later, if all went as planned tonight, but for now, Devi needed him to be in as pissy of a mood as possible without him being completely insufferable. She didn’t know the innerworkings of his fucked-up head too well, but she imagined that like anyone other person, he was more likely to get in a fight with someone if he was already in a bad mood.

The yellowed sign of the Camera slid across the windshield of the car as they drove past its front and turned into the small, poorly lit parking lot behind it. Devi had barely turned the engine off when Johnny undid his seatbelt, eager to leave his abhorred spot in the backseat. He got out and took in the familiar scenery of the theater’s dumpy, dark parking lot with a fond smile.

“Hm, I haven’t been here in quite a while.” He commented while Devi stepped out of the driver’s side beside him. She looked to him, then surveyed the area herself.

“Yeah, me either.” She replied, deciding not to mention that it was because of him that she had avoided this place for so long, then took up the leash that dangled loosely from his neck. Johnny’s eyes flickered down a moment at the movement, only to snort in remembrance of his new attachment.

Tenna looped around the trunk to meet them as they began their walk to the building.

“They still haven’t fixed that light by the dumpster?” She complained. “That’s been out for like, a year! Who knows what vile city dwellers could be lurking in the dark, ready to shiv me and steal my monies.”

Devi snorted a laugh.

“Eh. I’ve got the most dangerous thing in this parking lot roped to me, so I’m not too worried.”

Johnny smiled devilishly at that, and Tenna squinted apprehensively in his direction. Devi wasn’t wrong, she guessed, but was that really a good thing? She desperately hoped that whatever Devi was planning didn’t get either of them stabbed in the process.

The trio walked into the dull lighting of the entrance, and Johnny felt his asshat senses heightening by the second. He listened to the small crowd’s murmuring, pessimistically certain that someone would make a comment about either his attire, like usual, or the fact that he was currently adorned with pet equipment. A few people gave them weird stares, but his keenly tuned ears failed to hear if they said anything. Devi tugged him in the direction of the ticket booth, interrupting his paranoid scanning for the time being.

They settled on an old horror film, much to Tenna’s dismay, given the current company. Johnny felt some contentment in leading Devi to his old favored spot in their designated theater – he had a preferred spot in each of the Camera’s handful of theaters, back when he frequented the movies more often. He was also pleased when Devi readily sat beside him instead of putting Tenna between them, though it was most likely because having that damned leash drape over Tenna’s lap while she held it from the other side was impractical. He wanted to believe that she would have sat next to him anyway, even if the situation was different.

Devi only half-minded the movie, instead keeping her focus on Johnny’s behavior, which was more suspensefully entertaining than the cheesy, predictable stalking scenes of a film that she’d seen plenty of times as it was. She watched as covertly as she could at every twitch and look he gave to the people that laughed at inappropriate times, or talked through the ‘boring’ parts, and she felt some God-awful mixture of pride and disappointment that he did little else. Maybe his self-control had improved more than she thought it had.

The closest he got to losing it was when a couple of girls’ talking started getting progressively louder, as if they were unaware that their difficulty in hearing each other was because of the movie that they had paid to see. Devi could see Johnny tense, and could vaguely feel through their conjoined seat the movement of the muscles and tendons in his arm flexing and stretching as he ground his knuckles into a fist over and over. Before he could even yell at them, Tenna lobbed her still half-full box of candy over their row and hit one of the girls in the head with it, sending the shadows of little chocolates across the screen for a second, paired with her target’s aghast gag.

Johnny was surprised at the direct action, then built up a grim laugh into a quick cackle, joined by Tenna, who squealed out her usual high-pitched hyena laugh. Devi sunk back against her seat in defeat, already sensing by the hushed chatter a few seats ahead that the woman her friend had just beaned with a box of Raisinets was too weak-willed to confront their ‘larger’ group about it.

She tried to brush it off. Johnny was fantastic as drawing trouble to himself, and there would surely be another decent opportunity as the evening progressed; people were just too rude and shitty to not give him the desire for violence.

When the movie finished and they began their walk out to the street, Tenna insisted that she knew of an amazing little train of food trucks that parked nearby that they just had to try. It was almost six blocks away, and with the streets mostly dead, Devi would have insisted on any normal night that they drive there – of course, tonight was a little special, so she insisted that they walk.

“Yeah, I could use the exercise. Been cooped up in the apartment with Nny for one day too many.” Devi spoke nonchalantly about her choice, guiding Johnny smoothly away from the direction of the parking lot and toward where these alleged food trucks should be. She hoped along the way that Johnny would try and run from her side, at anything, even to chase a cat or something equally harmless.

Tenna nodded as though that made sense, but still had the gut instinct that Devi was up to something that she wouldn’t admit to. She kept her suspicions to herself while they trekked down the sidewalk, and instead continued talking up their eatery for the night.

Two streets passed, and Devi almost wanted to pout that Johnny had done nothing but walk dutifully by her side. He observed his surroundings with waning interest, unaware of Devi’s scrutiny. The darkened buildings of the already-closed shopping district blended together into one amorphous, black shape in his eyes, with his mind unable to find the square, uniform city architecture interesting for long. He was much happier looking at the starry sky, though it was difficult for many of the stars to appear brightly enough to be seen from a view inside the city. Stupid concrete monster wasn’t good for anything.

Partially coherent jabbering from Tenna failed to distract Devi from her disappointment in what was, so far, the most normal outing that she had had with Johnny since their reunion. She wished it wasn’t disappointing, but the entire purpose of this trip was to ensure that her leash idea would hold up in the face of Johnny’s unpredictable nature. She couldn’t afford to have a false sense of security when walking the streets with him!

The universe had thrown her so many asinine screwballs at this point that she wouldn’t be surprised if Johnny magically slipped his collar despite his big, dumb pumpkin head, or somehow had the unreasonable strength to break the clasp and attack something.

Why did he have to pick tonight to be on his very best behavior?

They reached the gated lot full of assorted food trucks without incident, and Devi’s lips vibrated with an annoyed exhale that sounded more like a disgruntled horse. Tenna assumed it was because of the gross, greasy looking people and food that awaited them, and gave her shoulder a friendly jostle.

“C’mon Devi! Truck food is amazing, you remember the hamburger sushi don’t you?” She asked with a giggly smile. Johnny made a face at the mention of ‘hamburger sushi’.

“Oh, I remember.” Devi eyerolled. It was actually pretty good, if she was being honest, but as of now she was bored with this completely fruitless adventure.

Johnny watched Devi curiously while they followed Tenna around the lot to different van windows, and his lower lip tented up in thought. She seemed unhappier suddenly, and he wondered why. Like Tenna, he speculated that it was because of their current environment, which he would emphatically agree was horrible. The mixing of smells from the numerous different types of frying dishes certainly did nothing for his already small appetite, and the people bumming around eating were all loud and irksome. And smelly.

“Devi, must we eat here?” Johnny whispered to her. Devi turned her head toward him.

“You don’t have to get anything if you’re not hungry.” She told him. “There’s food at home.”

Johnny pouted more.

“That’s not completely what I meant…” He mumbled, looking around. “The people here are wretched. Can’t we go somewhere more… completely absent of life?”

Devi looked at him for a moment before caving into quiet chuckles. Johnny felt his heart swell at the sound of her laugh. He steadied his composure as she moved to speak again, but her response was lost as Tenna called them over to the farthest corner of the lot.

“I FOUND THE HAMBURGER SUSHI TRUCK!” She yelled victoriously. Johnny’s mouth wormed miserably as Devi lead him to his doom of the fast-food version of fusion cuisine.

As they came to a stop beside Tenna, Devi noticed two men leaning up against the side of one of the buildings that walled off the lot, and raised her eyebrows in interest. They were smoking and drinking, and overall looked like the kind of late-night assholes that would loudly criticize others for a laugh. She wasn’t getting her hopes up, but kept their presence in mind as they waited for their food, just in case they were more trouble than she was asking for tonight.

Tenna had ordered them two ‘cheeseburger’ rolls to share, and the concept of splitting two items between three people only vexed Johnny further. Now he would have to make certain – if he even bothered to EAT this disgusting-sounding thing – that whatever he was grabbing hadn’t already been handled by someone else. It was repulsive enough knowing whatever sweaty creature lurked in the van’s ‘kitchen’ was going to create this abomination with, likely, their bare hands.

He shivered in disgust.

The truck was either very popular, or the cook was very slow, because it was taking forever for their order to come out. As time drug on, Johnny began idly picking at his collar while Devi talked to Tenna. He was indifferent to their conversation topic, and his eyes listed over the rooftops of the surrounding structures, again looking for anything to occupy his thoughts while he was unable to have Devi’s undivided attention.

A particularly rude-sounding set of laughs resounded behind him, and his senses were suddenly sharp again. Anyone else wouldn’t have thought twice about it, probably wouldn’t have even heard it amongst the chatter of everyone else nearby, but Johnny was accustomed to being an object of ridicule, and knew the common vocalizations of assholes and bastards.

“Hey!” One of them said. He stopped to laugh again before continuing. “HEY! Dog-guy! Did she get you neutered too??”

Johnny and Devi both straightened at the comment, immediately aware that they were the subject of discussion. Johnny trembled a second as he attempted to swallow his insult, but failed, and turned to face the men that were trying to humiliate them. Devi only turned enough to side-glance at the interaction with a small, apprehensive smile.

“DOES MY SITUATION CONCERN YOU THAT MUCH?” Johnny yelled back at them. He steamed when the pair only ‘OOOH’d back at him in response before breaking into hysterics.

Devi watched as Johnny’s body began to shake more, and held her breath behind her inconspicuous expression as he took a step forward. Tenna eyed her in concern, uncertain why she wasn’t intervening into an exchange that would surely only escalate without her involvement.

“Hey girl, he’s had all his shots right? He looks rabid!” The other called toward Devi, and Johnny took even more offense that they would address her directly with their brainless, monkey-drool humor.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTHS.” He ordered, standing wide-legged and pointing aggressively in their direction. “DON’T SPEAK TO HER, you filthy, bleating, devolutions of humanity! I don’t come outside to be a spectacle for swine like YOU.”

His eye twitched when their response was something about him coming outside to have ‘walkies’, followed by further spittle-inducing laughter. Oh, how he hated people so very much. Just watching how unguarded they were as they hooted and gestured at him made his fingers twinge with the desire for physical mutilations. It would be so hard to laugh without tongues! Or faces! OR A HEARTBEAT!

The grit on the asphalt scuffed with the friction of his boot as he lunged toward his intended victims, and Devi barely had a chance to register he’d moved at all before her arm was outstretched, a continuation of his now taut leash. Within the second, her arm was extended as far as it would go, as was the leash, and Johnny gagged from the speed at which his collar hinged around his neck. His body propelled forward further, twisting him around, and he hit the ground face first with an unceremonious BLAP!

Everyone stared at his limp figure on the floor for a few seconds, and then the men spasmed with a new, uncontrollable fit of laughter. Devi’s eyes were wide as she watched Johnny raise up onto his elbows, and she felt a long-missing energy crackle to life in her stomach.

She bowled over and laughed; laughed with deep, desperately needed triumph beating in her blood.

“IT WORKED!” She yelled at Tenna as she rose. “DID YOU SEE? It worked!!”

Tenna offered her a confused, open-mouth smile, but her eyes only showed her worry and discomfort at Devi’s abnormal change in demeanor. Devi bent back and held her forehead, still laughing.

“Oh my GOD. That was so perfect!” She chuffed. “I… I can’t believe it! Heehee!”

Tenna set a hand on her shoulder.

“I think… all the joy you’ve repressed for like, an entire year, is coming out right now. All at once. About this weird fucking leash thing.” She dropped her hand and pointed to Devi’s wide smile. Devi’s only continued her snickering.

“It worked, it worked, it worked! HAH-HAH-HAH!”

Johnny’s ego couldn’t have been more bruised if he ran it over with his own car in a freak accident. He pushed himself up, using his knee to get back into a standing position. The bastards behind him were still laughing, and Devi was cutting up with Tenna about it too, which stung a lot more than the taunting of some nameless strangers. He tried to breathe between his clenched teeth to calm himself down, but he was so embarrassed and angry – Devi probably just let him make an ass out of himself to teach him a lesson. Why did she always have to make a fool out of him to get her point across? Talking and being gentle was an option too, if she didn’t know!

He couldn’t stop himself from glowering when she turned to face him.

“NNY!” She smiled at him, and Johnny frowned unhappily, believing her smile was part of her mockery. He could guess that Devi was going to reprimand him, again, for trying to attack some ‘innocent’ people – he was getting sick of this. Those morons were not innocent; they instigated this! She saw it!

“What?” He snapped bitterly. Devi only laughed and tugged him closer by his leash.

“That was PERFECT, I’m so happy!” She cheered. “You did just what I wanted you to do!”

The tension in Johnny’s face vanished immediately.

“I…” A weak smile crept over his lips. “I-I did??”

“YES! This night wasn’t a total waste after all!”

Johnny’s previous perception of her smile as cruel and jeering dissipated, and instead he felt himself amazed by the wide grin she wore. He hadn’t seen that particular smile on her in quite a long time, and the inside of his chest was suddenly light and airy. He had absolutely no idea what part of his actions exactly she was talking about, but he had made her so very happy, and that’s all that mattered to him for the moment. Johnny clasped his hands in front of him, admiring her continued giggling until Tenna approached them.

“Um… our food is done.” Tenna spoke while she chewed, still judging the bizarre scene uncertainly.

“Oh, good—” Devi took one of the take-out plates from her, but got distracted when she realized that the two peons she’d used to test Johnny’s apparatus were still guffawing in their direction. Her attention moved back to them, and Johnny followed her stare, scowling in their direction to show his support of her disapproving look. Devi passed him their food casually, and then slipped the handle of his leash off of her wrist.

“Here, hold this a second.” She said with a smile as she dropped it into Tenna’s open palm. Tenna almost gagged on her food when she realized what she had just gripped onto.

Johnny was surprised too – it was unlike Devi to give away control so casually. His wide eyes flicked away from Tenna’s hand and back to Devi, who was walking toward the men standing by the wall. He felt a twinge of worry; not because he thought Devi couldn’t handle these idiots, but rather that said idiots might touch her in some way.

If either of them pushed her or something, he would gut them both with the chopsticks that were so carefully perched on the raised edges of this disposable plate. No way would Tenna’s weak grasp be able to hold him back, he was confident in that.

Devi looked between the men in front of her as she walked, debating from her experience with shitty guys and their unspoken douchebag tier rankings, which of the two was more leader than follower. She thought that the one that first called out to Johnny, the taller one, was likely that man.

“Huh?” The same man said as he saw Devi encroaching on the invisible border of their hangout territory. “Oh, what’s the matter girlie? Did we upset your pet over there?”

He sneered a rude grin at her, and Devi smiled back, certain that she had chosen correctly.

With her last step, she drew her arm back, then hurled it forward as though her knotted fist was a shotput. Her knuckles cracked against the bottom of his jaw at such a speed that it threw him back with a light topspin. His turning body slammed his head into the brick wall behind him, and he bounced off of that like a sad rubber ball, landing at the wedge where the building and ground met in a heap.

Johnny and Tenna opened their mouths in silent gasps, unable to do anything else.

Devi held her fist in front of her a moment, appreciating the dull ache in her digits with a satisfied smirk, then dropped her expression to shoot the remaining man a warning look. He looked terrified, like a sheep separated from the flock, and Devi was content with that. She turned around and regathered her ‘things’ from Johnny and Tenna.

“C’mon, Nny.” Her mouth perked up again. “Let’s go.”

BACK HOME:

Johnny jammed himself further into the nesting spot he had made for himself on Devi’s couch, shuffling his legs to get more comfortable. His head lolled over to watch Devi, as it had many times since the movie started. It was supposed to be thought-provoking, said one of Devi’s film magazines, but by all accounts was dull and droned on aimlessly about the futility of society. It was a totally unbelievable portrayal of a mental downward spiral– and he would know. Where was the frenzied tears? The passion?

But, to be fair, even the most interesting, well-written plot in the history of cinema couldn’t keep his attention right now, with Devi sitting beside him lazily and scorning the images on her TV. His heart fluttered remembering her gleefulness just an hour ago, and how she decked that guy that had been laughing at him. Now that was passion.

A relaxed smile spread across his face, and he sighed contently. It had been such an exhausting night; from venturing into public, to enduring Tenna’s loud nature, to arguing with shitheads, to falling and hitting his head on the floor, to eating hamburger sushi – which was much better than he had imagined, actually – he was exhausted. It didn’t help that this movie was unengaging and badly-written. It would be a better use of his eyeballs to look at the dark inside of his eyelids.

Devi turned to make a sarcastic comment about the film, but lost her air when she saw Johnny asleep with his head tilted back over the couch cushion. She stifled a laugh.

“Wow. This movie must really be a boring piecashit to put you to sleep, Nny.” She said to him.

She pulled a wadded blanket out from her corner of the couch and threw it over him, then settled in to continue watching the rest of this abhorred picture. Maybe the ending would blow her fucking mind, or something.

Half an hour later, Devi’s cheek was stretched against the back of her hand, her head drooping despite her arm’s best efforts to keep it upright. She blamed her outburst of absolute joy tonight for taking so much out of her, and her weary brain decided it would be fine to fall asleep right here, beside Johnny, the man she normally locked her bedroom door to ensure didn’t come in and kill her while she slept. She didn’t even have enough cognitive function to argue how fucking stupid that was.

Devi’s eyelashes flittered closed for a few seconds, but just as she was drifting off to sleep, Johnny screamed at the top of his lungs and jolted her wide awake. Her hands clamped over the arm and top of the couch, and she scrambled back against the corner to stare at him. Johnny’s irises ricocheted around the whites of his eyes madly, before settling on Devi with the look of a frightened animal.

“…YOU GOOD?” Devi asked with concern and restrained fear in her voice.

Johnny looked cautiously around the room, then back to Devi, who was not bleeding or stabbed, as he had dreamed she was. He stared at her torso until he was absolutely positive that the injuries that he’d just seen seconds before were, in fact, figments of his imagination, and then relaxed shakingly against the couch cushion.

“Y… yes.” He choked out, then cleared his throat. “Yes. Just a… bad dream.”

He pulled the blanket on his lap up and around his shoulders, bundling it over his head and huddling up into a paranoid ball on the couch. Devi blinked tiredly, then rubbed her eyes as she mentally chastised herself for bothering to be startled by more of Johnny’s nonsense.

“Okay.” She sighed and stood. “I’m going to bed. That movie sucked, in case you were wondering.”

Johnny smiled fondly at her pessimism.

“Alright. Goodnight, Devi.”

“Night, Nny. Try and… get some rest.” She raised an eyebrow in reference to his previous panic, and left to her room.

Johnny watched her door close, then snatched up the remote and changed the output to cable. He focused on the TV as if his life depended on it, stubbornly refusing to even consider the notion of sleep again. ‘Get some rest’—yeah right! The night terrors were only getting more gruesome and realistic each time he slept, and he was not at all interested in seeing exactly how bad the dreams could get. He decided the best way to avoid that was to not sleep at all again, for as long as he could manage.

NEXT.

#4.1k of devi what the hell are you doing #jtrm #jthm #mine #devnny #chapter

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solara-bean · 4 years

Text

First Meeting

I have like 3 different versions for how Zola met the Autobots ( specifically Optimus) but thos one's my favorite.

So this was it. I wake up. Shower. Feed RG0 ( pronounced Argo ) my Rottweiler, German Shepard mix. Eat breakfast. Workout. Then tinker and tinker till the day is spent on whatever project I'll probably never finish. I usually skip lunch and go straight to dinner. After that I'd read, paint watch tv or even practice playing my ukulele. Then I'd sleep and do it all over again as I've been doing for the past three years.

The best part is that my routine is never interrupted by outsiders since I'm alone in the woods. Or at least until now.

One night RG0 decided that he wanted to stray away from our normal path. I was fine with even though he was off leash. Nighttime in the forest no longer scared me. I felt more safe than anything. I still brought my shotgun just in case.

Then I heard a loud boom and stopped in my tracks. Before I knew it RG0 bolted into the direction of the loud sound. I hurried after him in a panic.

" Crazy dog! Now is not the time to be curious!!!"

He zoomed past the twisting trees over the uneven ground that slowed me down. Over the thumping of my heartbeat I could hear more loud sounds that were all getting louder. What was this dog leading me to? Thankfully he stopped at a dead end.

I recognized it as a small cliff that overlooked the largest valley in the forest. RG0 stood at the edge and stared down quietly with his ears perked. I slowed down and began to catch my breath only for it to leave my lungs again in shock.

The once peaceful, lush valley was now a warzone filled with....robots??? Why the hell are there robots?! And why are they fighting for that matter?!! There had to be ten - no - twelve of them. All with futuristic guns and other weapons used to harm and maybe even kill. But there seemed to be two groups. It wasn't just random fighting.

The ones with brighter colors seemed to only be fighting the ones with sharper, more threatening features. Wait did they have matching symbols? Ugh! I can't tell without my glasses.

Hang on...what were these things exactly? Some kind of government project gone wrong or maybe a test? It would make since sense these woods are deserted despite me and RG0. Wait did they not know I was here. I have been keeping a low profile. Maybe I'm not suppose to be seeing this. Holy Crap!!! One of the little ones just ripped off the other's arm!!!!

" Ok buddy," I held onto RG0s collar and began to step back slowly. " No clue what the hells going on but we're leaving right now."

Then as luck would have it, one if the robots was blasted into the cliff with an eerily human cry of pain. The force of the impact made me fall over and RG0 yelp. Apparently we'd been loud enough to be heard since the robot, who was tall enough to rest their elbow ( or at least what looked like one ) on the cliff's edge, spotted us.

They were red, blue and silver from what I could see. They also seemed to be wearing some sort of mask. But what really stood out was their glowing eyes that stared back at mine. They held so much emotion and intelligence. That and they were the most beautiful shade of blue.

Before I could admire the metallic stranger any longer, a screeching voice runge out.

" Well Prime, it looks like you've found one of the planet's many pests. Here let me dispose of it for you."

Oh that can't be good.

An energy blast from above missed me and RG0 by a hair. I frantically searched above the trees to see another robot high in the sky with a blaster pointed at us.

Oh great they can fly too!!!

Without a second thought we bolted back down the path with the flying bot hot on our tails. RG0 was taking the path home but I managed to signal him to follow me down another in the opposite direction. I hadn't been this way in a while but the last thing I need is them knowing where we live. It would have been a lot easier to runaway if I didn't have to keep running ina zigzag to avoid blasts. From the high pitched laughter, I could tell that this metal douchebag was enjoying our scurrying.

The robot must have gotten tired of flying since they landed on the ground. Right in front of us.

" As fun as this chase has been, human. I'll need to finish the job before Megatron gets suspicious of why my mission is taking so long. Not that you understand any of what I'm saying. With your inferior intellect and all."

Ok. Doucheness just went from a 10 to a 20.

They pointed their blaster at me, causing RG0 to jump in front of me and growl at them.

" Aw. The organic has a loyal pet. Let's see how well it handles my plasma beam."

" No!"

I held RG0 close to me and awaited the blast that never came. Instead another came from behind us and hit the flying robot's in their blaster, damaging it.

" Leave them alone Starscream!" came a noble, booming voice.

It was the red robot from before.

" Argh! How dare you interrupt my fun once again Optimus Prime!"

Ok good I've got their names now. Guessing that Optimus is the good guy.

Oh great now they're fighting and I'm way too close!

I barely managed to get out of the way as they tussled around, making the ground shake. Once I was a good I looked over my shoulder to see Optimus, the nice robot, pause to give me a look that said "run." He was distracted long enough for Starscream, aka the douchebag, land a kick on his injured side. That must be where he was shot earlier considering there was a hole leaking some sort of fluid.

Optimus groaned and fell to his knees. He was about to get up before Starscream pointed his still somewhat functional blaster at his face.

" You've disappointed me, Prime. Bested by a few blows? Where's that legendary power?! Ah well. No matter. Megatron shall be pleased when I deliver your helm to him."

That should've been my cue get RG0 and I ro safety, seeing that Optimus was only fighting this guy to give us an opening to flee. But was he really going to die? Or would he be fine if we left? It's not like we could help him anyway!

Unless....

" Hey Starscream!"

" Huh-"

Starscream emitted a pathetic wail when one one of my rifle's bullets hit his face. Then another. And another.

" Why you little-"

Before he could aim his blaster, RG0 jumped on his foot and barked up at him loudly.

" Ew get off me you disgusting organic parasite!"

He hopped from foot to foot as RG0 jumped around his feet and pawed at them. Meanwhile I kept shooting at him, making a few noticeable dents in his armor. All the chaos made him do a panicked jig and whine. I couldn't help but giggle.

'Serves you right!!!'

He had enough once he accidentally shot himself in the foot trying to get RG0.

" ARGH! Oh that's it! Now you both die!"

Then Optimus, now having recovered some, shoved him at full force. It sent him tumbling threw a few trees, scratching his metal skin and bending one of his wings. He laid a groaning mess in a heap with Optimus' gun aimed at his head.

" I think it's time for you to go."

With that Starscream transformed into a jet- wait how the HELL- and flew away. I was so taken aback by his transformation that I didn't notice one of the now dented trees give out and fall towards me.

" Look out!" Optimus warned.

RG0 thankfully tackled me out of the way but my head hit the ground to hard and everything turned black.

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

I woke up with a throbbing headache and sore muscles. Even worse my bed felt terrible and the curtains were open in my room.

Wait a minute....

'This isn't my room!'

I surveyed my surroundings. I was apparently seating in the front seat of a truck.

'WHO'S TRUCK AM I IN???'

Before I could panic for much longer a familiar voice came from the radio.

" Good morning. How are you feeling?"

" U-uhmm...fine I guess. Who am I talking to?" I said while staring skeptically at the radio and scooting as far into the seat as I could.

" Forgive me for not introducing myself properly. I am Optimus Prime. The mech you met from last night."

'Oh great! That wasn't all a weird whiskey induced dream.'

" But......you're a truck now???"

" Yes."

" Weren't you a robot before?"

" If by 'robot' you mean my primary form, then also yes."

I burried my face in my hands and groaned.

"Ughhh what's going on?"

I then remembered the lack of a certain furry companion. I was about to panic again until I saw RG0 a few yards away from us and playing with some of the other robots from last night. A small yellow one was on the ground, nearly mirroring RG0's play position. I would've found the whole scene cute if it wasn't so bizarre.

" If you don't mind me asking. I would like to know the name of the human who saved me."

I snorted.

" Saved you? No way. If anything you saved me."

" If you hadn't have stayed and distracted Starscream, I would've been severely injured if not offlined. You could have left me there and saved yourself. But you didn't. You showed true bravery."

" Aw stop with the flattery. I was just paying you back for helping us first. So consider us even."

" Then thank you miss....?"

" Princeton. Well Zola is my first name."

" Then thank you Zola. And I'm sure we have much to discuss."

" That might be an understatement."

And it was.

#zola princeton #oc #tf oc #optimus prime #transformers #transformers knightverse #tf #autobots #decepticons #rg0 #starscream #bumblebee

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the-schwayest-batman-around · 5 years

Text

The Wild Years

OOC: This was a belated birthday present for a great friend, @kirameku, who wanted to know my thoughts on Terry during his wild and crazy years. So here is a short drabble for your entertainment.

~ ~ ~

For Terry McGinnis, being sent to his own room was getting easier and easier. He could get himself in trouble, say how he was failing science class or even mention he was cutting classes to be sent upstairs, but he didn’t need to. These days, his folks were arguing more and more and wouldn’t even notice if Terry slid upstairs. They were arguing about anything these days. If his Mom was out with friends, his Dad would begin to ask who she was with. If his Dad came home late from work, his Mom would be arguing that his Dad was avoiding time with the family. When this almost daily event happened, Terry could sneak into his bedroom to play video games, text his friends, or do what he had been up to for the last bit: see his friends.

Everyone at school was always checking on him, seeing how he was or making comments that Terry would be joining the “Split Family Club”. Dana checked in on him and usually wanted to hang, but she brought up Terry’s family situation all the time. He needed to ignore everything and there was one friend he knew he could trust.

Terry had texted his friend earlier today and agreed to meet him down the block. Terry would just have to prepare and make his way there in the next five minutes. He stuffed the bed with pillows and locked the door. Even if his parents could force the lock, they would just see a figure resting in the bed. It was full proof and would do well until Terry could sneak back inside at 2 or 3.

Terry opened the window and poked his head out to check the coast. No one was in the backyard and his baby brother’s room was dark. His Mom wouldn’t be in there to get a break from all the dumb drama going on.

He shimmied onto the window ledge and closed the window shut. This was old hat for him and he could do this in his sleep. Terry braced himself and lept towards the nearby tree branch. The leaves rustled and the branch jerked up and down from the sudden weight. The bark dug into his palms, but Terry held on. He ignored the all too familiar pain before climbing his way towards the trunk. Shimmying himself down, Terry glanced up at the two story McGinnis home one last time. No one was looking out and most of the house lights were off. He was almost home free.

Finally at a comfortable leve, Terry jumped down, his legs taking the fall to the ground with a hard thump. He needed to work on his landing, but he didn’t want to be late. Terry rushed down the sidewalk. Terry and the McGinnis family lived in the 30s of Neo-Gotham and didn’t have to worry about nosy neighbors. It was too late and too dark for anyone to recognize the young teen going down to the end of the block.

He came to the corner, looking around for a moment. Very few people were out and those that were were busy moving. It was Gotham and no one, not even the night owls had time to stop. Terry checked his old phone again to check the time. He didn’t need to wait long as a salvation came in on a loud, beat up black truck.

“Hey there shrimp, you lost or something?” The driver, poking his head out of the window, was sporting the biggest grin on his face. Terry couldn’t help but match his smirk with his own as Charlie ‘Big Time’ Bigelow motioned for Terry to get on in. “You’re right on time Tiny!”

“Like I’d be late, Charlie!” Terry said as he scrambled around the car. Traffic honked but Terry ignored them as he planted himself firmly in the shotgun sheet and slammed the door shut.

He had met Charlie some time ago. He was the cool older kid that everyone insisted was bad. Charlie wasn’t though. If schway could be a person, Terry was certain it would be Charlie. He was free from his parents and was always looking to make a day brighter. Right now, Terry needed it.

Charlie didn’t ask questions. He was the one lone person that was willing to give Terry a break from life and never tried to dig up any of Terry’s life drama. While everyone was asking Terry what was wrong, how he was feeling, and where he was going to go, Charlie instead stole a six pack of beer and gave it over to him when Terry admitted his family life wasn’t doing well. It was the first beer Terry ever had and it tasted god awful. It was like warm gasoline and hot ass mixed together. The young teen had coughed and sputtered and Charlie just laughed, telling him to try again. Terry eventually mastered it and could now handle any beer that was given to him.

“So where are we going?” Terry asked. “Down to the 5th to break some windows? The club?”

“Nah, kid. July’s got a party going on and we need to bring some favors” Charlie said as he swerved around a nice looking car. The driver honked and Charlie held out his finger, twirling his middle finger out with a cocky grin. Terry couldn’t help but laugh, mimicking Charlie. He couldn’t get away with this anywhere and instead of being scolded, Charlie laughed. “That’s the spirit!”

“They deserved it” Terry pipped in. Terry was happy to see Julio though. Julio “July” Jimenez was another friend that ran with Charlie. He could fight just as well as Charlie could, having been raised in the lower levels. He was also the one person who had a place of his own and no family. It meant more often than not, July’s place was where everyone wanted to be.

"We’re gonna get some goods at the gas station” Charlie insisted as he turned onto the highway to start going down the various levels of Gotham. “Snatch and grab. You in?”

~ ~ ~

This wasn’t Terry’s first time with Snatch and Grab. He had seen Charlie and his friends do it plenty of times before. This was just the first time Terry was doing it and he had the harder job. Armed with an empty backpack, Terry was going to focus on the snatching part after Charlie finished pumping gas. They couldn’t go in together and Terry would need to act fast. He’d go to the snack section and began stuffing his backpack with anything good. Chips, dips, drinks, but nothing kiddie like soda. If he could grab extra stuff like any condoms, lighters, even some booze, it would really make the party better.

Charlie had a tough task too. While Terry snatched, Charlie would be distracting the guy at the counter. It made sense since Charlie was of age and could ask for things behind the counter without looking weird. Cigarette packs and even detergent pods were all back there. If Terry pulled this off, he’d even lend Terry one of the magazines in the back as a reward.

Terry would have done it for free, but the idea of getting his own nude magazine was too good to pass up. Besides, if he could sneak out of the house, he could easily do this. Charlie had pulled his truck up and was getting it gassed. Grabbing a dirty Gotham Knight’s ball cap, he stuffed it on Terry’s head. Terry grimaced and swatted Charlie’s hands.

“Be quick, Terry” Charlie insisted. “In and out; no slowing down. Got it?”

“Got it.” Terry fought back the nerves working through his body as he watched as Charlie entered. He wanted to prove himself and this was a great chance to do it. Some of Charlie’s gang, especially some of the girls Charlie was having a thing with, thought Terry was a dreg just following along. Terry wasn’t and was going to show them how he could hang with guys like Charlie and Julio.

A minute passed, the time that Charlie said he needed. Terry tugged his backpack straps and began heading inside. The gas station was run down and not in some kind of retro way. Everything was tiled brown, tan and beige from the floors, the walls and the counters. The few splashes of colors advertised coffee, the pretzel dogs, and a turkey sandwich. No one else was here except for Charlie, thumbing through the magazines and the cashier who was keeping his eyes mostly on Charlie.

Terry didn’t stay still for long. He began moving quickly to the back. Terry had seen Charlie and Julio do this plenty of time, where one of them would loop around the store and begin stocking up on goods. It was plenty of time for Charlie to get whatever he needed before launching the next step in their plan. Terry did his best to be silent, his shoes sticking on the floor from dry soda or dirty mop water before he wrenched them free. He passed the the sizzling hot dogs, the stench drenching the air in heavy meat. Terry gagged, but didn’t stop there, passing by the sandwiches, some cheap truck supplies before spotting what was on the list: beer.

There weren’t any single bottles or cans Terry could grab. Instead, he was going to have to grab a six pack and hope he was strong enough. Opening the door, he felt the cool refrigerator air hit him before glancing back. Terry was in the far back now and from where he was, hidden from the cashier. Darting back to the beer, Terry quickly looked around before grabbing two six packs of Lit Beer. As tempted as he was to get the Buzz Soda, he snapped the door shut and pressed ahead.

“Heeeey, I’m ready to check out.” Charlie’s recognizable voice carried inside the store. Terry could hear him crystal clear and knew it was time to start heading the front. Hoping the residual gunk from his shoes didn’t make too much noise, Terry scampered with the aisle, ignoring the beer weighing down his bag. The cashier had a thick accent, asking Charlie if the magazines was all he wanted and that he’d have to see Charlie’s ID.

“I need some other stuff too. Got any Silk Cuts? The filters if you got ‘em.” Terry was at the snacks now. His heart was racing, the thrill consuming him as he looked back and forth. There was still no sign of anyone and he couldn’t see any cameras. His face was hidden and they’d be long gone by the time anyone saw them. That was what Charlie said anyways.

Terry waited for a moment as Charlie fished out his fake ID. He gave it five seconds before he quickly began grabbing what he needed. Dip was easy to grab and stuff in but chips were noisier. They’d crinkle and alert anyone listening that someone was grabbing them. A little noise was fine but too much and he’d be caught red handed.

Terry worked quickly before grabbing three bags. His backpack was ready to burst and his back was already screaming in agony with the weight. The beer was weighing everything down. Terry just hoped the back would stay together long enough to--

“YoHOOOOOOO!”

A hearty laugh cut through the store. Terry looked around and saw a clown walk in, totting what Terry thought was a laser gun the cops had only been given recently. He looked as old as Charlie and had the same amount of muscle as him, but he looked like a dreg with all the grease paint on him. Terry knew what this was: a Jokerz member.

The clerk and Charlie froze in place, as the Jokerz laughed again. The dreg was clearly happy about this as he aimed the gun right them. “Your ATM wasn’t working outside, so I figured I’d ask for a cash deposit.”

Charlie was bigger and could have decked this guy into next Tuesday, but he wasn’t armed. Instead, he stepped back, arms raised as the cashier began to hurriedly open the cash drawer. Terry didn’t even have to see his face that Charlie was giving this guy the evil look and wanted nothing more than to deck him.

Terry hadn’t been noticed despite taking a quick peek to see what was going on. The snack counter was his cover from anyone in the store. His mind was racing as fast as his heart. His friend was stuck at gunpoint and could be shot. Terry looked around, trying to figure out something. Should he rush out and tackle the guy? No, Terry told himself, he'd get shot. He could try and distract the gunman, but Terry was stuck on the how.

Looking down at his backpack, Terry saw one of the cans of Lit Beer. An idea struck him and with little options left, he hoped it would be enough. Terry dove his hand down into the bag, snapping the can from the plastic rings. The chips rustling from the bag was distracted as the drawer clung open, the dreg saying “In the bag! In the bag now! Come on!” His gun was shifting too and from Charlie and the cashier so neither or them would get any funny ideas.

Terry moved back around, going down one of the aisles until he saw what he was looking for: the sandwich containers. It was filled with all sorts of sandwiches: the only good sandwiches like chicken, turkey, turkducken, fish, and then the not so good ones like the hamburgers that were dry and crumbly and a BLT that had more green and plant life on it than was advertised. It also just so happened to be in the complete opposite direction of the cashier.

Terry took aim and hurled the can of Lit Beer. It spun in the air before crashed into the side of the container with a loud THUNK! The can crashed to the ground, ruptured from the two sudden impacts as the beer splashed out in all directions. It was too far away to hit anyone but the noise was enough for the gunman to spin around. “WHO’S THAT?!” he called out.

Everything happened so fast. Charlie stepped forward and sucker punched the Jokerz thug with a hard right hook. The goon crashed to the ground, the gun clattering to the ground. Terry floored it, now rushing past the beer puddle as Charlie moved forward and kicked the gunman in the gut. The man wretched as Charlie kicked him again, and again. Terry was moving fast, heart pounding in his ears as Charlie lept over the man, scooped something up and rushed forward. All the while, the cashier was grabbing his own gun, aiming the old shotgun right at the Jokerz who was quivering and coughing on the floor.

Terry and Charlie didn’t look back. They didn’t even look to see if anyone else was in the parking lot. They hopped into Charlie’s truck before flooring it. The truck lurched forward, peeling out of the parking lot before another CRASH could be heard. Charlie and Terry were jolted forward but kept driving as quickly as they could. Terry looked back, only to realize they had never pulled the fuel nozzle out of the truck as it flailed behind them, the pump now effectively ruined.

Charlie laughed. It was an adrenaline filled guffaw before he let out a long cry of victory. “TT! That was the schwayest! Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

“Y-YEAH!” Terry was also laughing now. His body was shaking, trembling in his seat as Charlie continued to laugh. That was incredible and they had managed to get away with everything they had. They had done it! They had won!

~ ~ ~

They pulled the pump out a few blocks away. Charlie said that someone would probably want it for scraps and it could be useful. It didn’t even matter though. TT and Big Time had taken down a Jokerz dreg and were riding high off that all the way to Julio’s party. "Wait ‘til I tell everyone what we did! You’re moving up TT. Maybe we’ll do some bigger stuff soon.”

“Bigger?” Terry asked, but was clapped on the shoulder by Charlie. Terry hid the wince so he couldn’t get an arm punch for flinching. “How much bigger?”

“Bigger than you or me kid.” Charlie looked behind the chair and grinned. Terry got a look and noticed the Jokerz’s gun had been lifted instead of the magazines or the cigarettes. “Now come on. Let’s party.”

#random headcanon #drabble #Batman Beyond #terry mcginnis

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