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darlingdarkly · 4 months

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New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #dark!johnny #dubcon #dark fic #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod #cod soap #twdubcon

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stanathanxoox · 1 month

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Our Babies

“Our babies would be so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?” - Ominis Gaunt x MC

You had just escaped from the hospital wing, your boyfriend helping to escort you there when you had began to feel incredibly nauseous and dizzy during potions class with Professor Sharp. Matron Blainely had insisted that you spent the rest of the day in the hospital wing until whatever ails you passed, having sent Ominis back to class straight after he was sure you were settled. Matron Blainely had run some tests throughout the afternoon and come to only one conclusion, one that you should’ve probably suspected given your most recent turn in your relationship with your boyfriend. You made your way through the door into the room of requirement, having sent Ominis an owl when you were being released from the hospital wing for him to meet you there. You settled on the couch having noticed that he hadn’t arrived yet. Deek appeared a couple minutes later and bowed in front of you saying

“I have a plate full of plain crackers and some soup at Matron Blainely’s request for you Miss Y/N, she said that given your certain situation at the moment you may not feel like eating what is being served for dinner in the Great hall”. You take it gratefully, and chew slowly on the crackers

“Thank you Deek, I appreciate it greatly. Do you mind giving me and Ominis some space while I tell him?” you ask and Deek nods, taking your hand in his small one before he says

“Mr Gaunt has been worried sick about you all day Miss Y/N, kept on calling me to see if I knew any more about your condition. I’m sure he will be positively thrilled to hear your news”. And with that theres a poof and Deek is gone.

You don’t have time to even think or dwell on what Deek had just said to you because the door cracks open and you hear the worried voice of your boyfriend call out

“Y/N? Are you in here? I got your owl and came as quickly as I could” he says as he rushes into the room. You stand and make your way over to him, suddenly very nervous about the whole situation. You had known right from the beginning of your friendship with Ominis that he didn’t care much for his family or for what they had done and how much he wanted to escape. How much after this last year of school he wanted to leave and never return to his families home ever again. You hadn’t really talked about children apart from that if you had them they weren’t to be anything like his family. But you couldn’t help but worry what would happen given that you were both unmarried and - you couldn’t think of that. Your hands are ringing together, a sign of how anxious and nervous you are, something that even though Ominis can’t see he can still pick up

“My sweet Y/N, what is wrong?” he asks, placing his hands gently on your arms to reassure you

“Our babies would be so cute” you say, blurting the first thing that comes to your mind, another anxious trait you had. He raises an eyebrow even more confused as he asks

“Oh yeah?” and you nod your head before gently taking his hands and placing them on the slight bump that is your growing baby. You watch the different expressions flicker across his face, from shock, astonishment and wonder, to happiness and excitement

“Are you serious right now?” he asks, his voice a whisper and you nod leaning in and whispering

“Yes Ominis, we’re having a baby, Blainely thinks I’m about 12 and a half weeks pregnant”

“We’re having a baby” he whispers before pressing a kiss to your lips and you smile

“Ominis, what does this mean for us and the baby?” you ask and he places a kiss to your forehead

“We have two months left till graduation my sweet girl, and then we can marry and raise this baby together” he declares as if it was the surest thing in the whole world.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods

“Of course I’m sure my sweet girl, a life without you in it just doesn’t seem worth living and now that I know we’re having our own precious little one well that’s even more reason for us to be together don’t you think sweet girl?” he asks and you nod, as tears slip down your face

“I love you Ominis” you whisper and he beams.

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi, @jimmybpride, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy, @nikkiwierden, @samchelforever007, @kirkspockbones, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love, @haliannej, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake, @mizzezm, @genius2050, @twilight-twihard, @cullencoven2019, @wxlfgirlx, @luciferxchloeislove, @drethanramsey-ismybabe, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine, @loverofoneshots, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy reader insert #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt imagine

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unrequitedloveletter · 10 months

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Contented- K.B x fem! reader

This one was requested by @levis-dilutedbleach! I don’t think I’ve written something of this sort in the two years I’ve been writing for Kaz and if I have, it has been a very long time since I last wrote something of this sort, so thank you for sending it in and I hope you enjoy!

Fic type- this is very fluffy

Warnings- none

Yours and Kaz’s relationship was anything but typical, but it did have it’s typical moments. Moments like the one where, after you’d hit the one year mark, you asked if he’d like to attend dinner with you and your parents, and he had said yes.

You were the daughter of a wealthy merch that lived in the financial district and you had an apartment in the area, and that fact alone was enough to put Kaz on edge. Dealing with merchants was typically easy though certainly a rare enough occurrence in his life, and still. The fact that your father was a merchant and the fact that he was your father was enough to make him just a bit jittery.

It was something he’d schooled out of his expression and daily mannerisms with a practiced carefulness that some would’ve found impressive, but it was still something you had noticed.

You commented on it as the two of you walked up the steps to the front door, hand ghosting over his arm in what would’ve been a comforting gesture but never touching it to respect Kaz’s touch aversion.

“Don’t be nervous,” you said. “My mother has very low expectations given that she knows your status in the Barrel, so as long as you don’t act much like you do when we’re in the Slat and you’re running a mean streak, all will be well. My father is...well, he’s my father. He takes a bit of getting used to.”

You knocked on the door, once, twice, and one of the staff answered, greeting you with a smile. You went in, took off your coats and your shoes. Kaz glanced at his gloves daringly for a moment before shaking his head at himself.

As the two of you proceeded down the hallway that lead to the dining room, Kaz straightened his tie and ran a self conscious hand over his dark hair in the last second before the two of you spotted a woman who might’ve been you but thirty years older. Kaz had a split second to do so, but he managed to smile and hoped it came off as warm.

“The refined Kaz Brekker, I assume?” She asked. Kaz nodded and registered a man who must’ve been your father approaching.

“Barrel businessman,” your father intoned. “Criminal, really. Shameful business model.”

“I run my clubs as fairly and efficiently as possible,” Kaz responded, already sensing a dislike from your father. “There is no conning in my clubs, and when there is, it is dealt with accordingly. I thank you for the businessman comment, though, so few recognize me as more than Barrel trash.”

Barrel trash that was a force to be reckoned with, of course, but he forced himself to bite his tongue. The aim of the meeting was to get your parents to like him, not to argue with your father over the expensive wine or the taste of the cheese on the charcuterie board.

“Kaz Brekker,” your father greeted. “It is...well, it is something indeed, to finally be able to make your acquaintance.”

Your mother took you by the hands and gave Kaz a kind smile. “You two have most certainly arrived on time! Dinner is to be served any minute, and the table is set!”

Kaz followed you and your mother to the table set for four, took a seat on your right and across from your father.

“Do tell us more of your clubs, Mr. Brekker,” your father said. “I do hear that they’re all the rage among the tourists.”

“The Crow Club is largely a gambling hall,” Kaz said. “Makkers Wheel, Three Man Bramble, games mostly. There’s a bar for those who aren’t interested in gambling and a lot of seating for those looking to dine at the establishment. The Silver Six is more of the same, and I would like to think it’s a step up from what it used to be.”

“Oh yes! I’ve gambled at the Kaelish Prince during a few meets with my coworkers--that Pekka Rollins who ran it was bloody awful. Lots of those games were rigged and the liquor sometimes tasted quite odd.”

You glanced at Kaz.

“Had a few squabbles with Rollins myself,” Kaz said. “Dregs business and irrelevant, though. Glad he’s gone.”

“Glad you took it over,” your father said. “I think I’ll visit the Silver Six, get a taste for what it’s like to gamble in a place owned by my daughters most beloved.”

“I do hope you’ll enjoy, then,” Kaz said. “Tell me what day you and your lot come down--I’ll man a couple of games at the tables.”

“He’s excellent,” you said. “I won’t say he’ll ensure you win the pot of money that you and your work friends will put down because he likes a fair game, but he’s really excellent with cards. When he mans a game, it’s in his hands the whole time. Mesmerizing to watch.”

Kaz shot you a thankful smile, and the dinner continued as such. Kaz’s father attempting to a throw a curveball at him, Kaz catching the ball and tossing it back into your fathers yard. Eventually, when your father grew tired of the games and decided he liked Kaz well enough, you both noticed it, and you watched Kaz’s shoulders deflate along with his nerves bit by bit throughout the rest of the night.

A couple hours in, Kaz was making your father laugh and relishing in the way you laughed when your mother took your hands and told you that Kaz must’ve been the one, that they were sorry for how they’d judged him without knowing him so well.

Kaz could relax. He’d impressed both of your parents with only a few glasses of wine, a twelve course meal that took you all quite some time to eat because you were so busy talking, and the beginnings of a lemon meringue pie for dessert.

By the time that you were leaving, your mother was hugging you and your father was shaking Kaz’s gloved hand--he’d asked first, the rumors of the touch aversion lingering in every corner of Ketterdam no matter the district--and Kaz was hoping that the waters would not rise while simultaneously hoping that your father was impressed by it.

Kaz walked you to your apartment and chose to stay the night in the end, the two of you sleeping far enough away from one another that you didn’t risk waking up to find your bodies entangled and triggering Kaz’s touch aversion.

As he drifted, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Your parents liked him. He had won their approval. It was enough to keep him contented through to the next morning, your presence enough to keep him contented forever.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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ashintheairlikesnow · 1 month

Text

I Can't Cross O'er: An Interlude

CW: Captivity, child of whumper POV, blood, referenced whipping, magical whumpee, siren whump. For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 4: Monster! Monster!

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

Six years ago

A door shut, clicking into place, just down the hall. Carefully hidden inside one of the seven bedrooms in this wing of the house, Ford and his sister Nathalie waited, listening, as the man in the hallway took a deep breath. “By God,” The man muttered. “What a voice he has.”

Nathalie tried to peek around Ford's arm. “Is he-”

“Sssshhh.” Ford swatted at Nathalie without looking at her, and she swatted back.

“Like an angel…” The man continued, not realizing he had an audience - if currently a distracted one. “An absolute angel. The way he sings..."

Nathalie poked Ford right in his ticklish side with one finger, jabbing roughly. "Ford-"

"I said sssshh!"

"Don’t you dare tell me to shush, Guilford,” Nathalie hissed.

Ford looked at her, and whatever she saw on his face made the momentary triumph of mocking him with his hated full first name drain from hers. She laid a hand on his arm, then, awkwardly patting, whispering, “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, Ford, I didn't mean it-"

“Don’t ever call me his name,” Ford said, but his voice was weak. Like always since his mother died, he felt tears rise unbidden and had to fight them back below. “Please, please don’t.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Nathalie whispered. Her eyes were huge and sad in the light that filtered in through the gauzy curtains across the room. “I really didn’t. I’m sorry, Ford. You’re not like him at all. I promise you're not."

He found a smile for her, just to watch the way her shoulders, which had hunched up, relaxed again. “It’s… it’s all right.” There was another sound, and Ford turned back, trying to peek through a crack in the door they were hidden just behind again. He couldn’t quite see the man, but he could hear him still muttering to himself. Thankfully, the Lord Fellswooth spoke to himself loudly enough that he hadn’t overheard them and realized he was being spied on by two of Lord Wentworth’s children.

Or grandchildren.

Or... prisoners.

Whoever they really were to him.

Seconds passed, and Ford could see in his mind the way the tall, strikingly thin Lord Fellswooth must be patting down his shirt, checking for wrinkles or any detail out of place. He’d been a fussy one at supper earlier, the sort to surreptitiously check the tines of his fork over before taking a single bite, as if checking for a smudge or a bit of tarnish he might make a barbed comment about. He was probably running quick fingers through his hair to get the little curl of salt-and-pepper over his forehead just so - he’d done that over and over since he’d come to meet with Lord Wentworth, as if it were some sort of compulsion rather than simple vanity.

Ford’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he listened to Fellswooth take a deep breath, murmur it was only a business call, of course, Theresa, that’s all, as if he were rehearsing his lines for a play, before he turned to leave. The two children eased back and away so no hint of them might be seen as he went past them - Ford's eyebrows knitted in confusion at a spot of bright red he saw on the Lord's cheek, smeared like he'd rubbed open a wound. The Lord's steps were nearly soundless thanks to the plush gold-threaded rug that ran the length of the hall all the way to the grand staircase that would take him right out the front door.

The butler met him there.

Mr. Keller was chilly sometimes but Ford mostly found him kind. His voice filtered up the stairs as he let Lord Fellswooth know his horse was saddled and waiting for him just outside. Mr. Keller had been around forever, he was very old and soon to retire, Father- the man who made them call him Father, anyway - said. He’d made mistakes, sometimes… more often lately.

There had been some sort of trouble with Mr. Keller writing letters that made no sense, begging for rescue from employment, that had led to some distant relations coming to the door last month, worried for his health.

Father had assured them all was well, and after speaking to Mr. Keller over a few days, the cousins or whoever had gone away again. Mr. Keller had been... different, ever since, but still mostly kind to the children.

Ford’s father read all Mr. Keller’s letters now before he sent them, and he’d put out an advert and told his very important friends he was looking for a new butler, that Mr. Keller was ready to step down and have a well-earned rest.

If he didn't just get thrown in the pond with the monster, like Ford's real father had been.

Once Fellswooth was safely gone, Ford eased out into the hall, the well-oiled hinges moving in perfect silence as he swung open the door. Nathalie was on his heels, creeping just behind him. They made their silent way towards the door that the fussy Lord had just come out of.

Ford paused just a foot away and turned to look at his sister over his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips.

Nathalie nodded, solemnly. Like Ford, she still wore a black armband, the sign of mourning after their mother’s death the year before. At ten, her face was losing the child’s roundness and thinning out. She looked like their mother had, more every year, and sometimes it hurt Ford to look at her at all. It would be six more years before their father would want to start looking into marrying her off, which meant only four years until marriage might happen for Ford.

The thought terrified him.

Ford had become a part of his father’s grasping ambitions only a month after Mother died, when she could no longer protect her children from Lord Wentworth’s plans for his family. Ever since, he’d been subjected to endless lectures on business ventures he didn’t care about overseas, tutored for hours every day on how to convince other nobles to speak to his father about those business ventures, or selling land, or… whatever it was that Guilford Wentworth wanted from them. All those lessons, in the end, centered around learning how to lie - or how to bring the aristocrats and royalty to meet with his father and his father’s awful creature.

Alongside all that unwanted education had been a rise in the careless, constant violence that had already dogged him all his life. He was not good enough at the skills Lord Wentworth wanted him to learn. He did not lie so easily, he did not care about colonies and copper mines a thousand miles across the sea. And he paid for not caring with bruises like the ones he wore even now, always and only in places that his clothing might hide.

Nathalie, though, wore no bruises, and neither did the twins. He’d done what he could to protect them all the way his mother had once tried to protect him. If he were married, though, especially if he were married to someone with more money or land and he had to go live with her family, he couldn’t keep Guilford’s anger on him any longer.

It would turn on his sister, until she was found a husband - and then it would finally turn on the twins, who had never known violence and would have no one to keep them safe any longer

What if whoever was picked for his sister’s husband was cruel, too? What if his own wife turned out to be some terrible witch, like Guilford Wentworth, just with hair ribbons? He’d rather die than be married, but he knew enough about his father’s monster by now to know that it wouldn’t matter what he wanted, when the time came.

He’d want whatever he was told to want, once the monster sang its hideous song. He'd be a dutiful, loving husband, or he'd be a dutiful loving son, or he'd have his throat torn open and turn to bones in the bottom of the pond in the garden, just like his real father.

Ford closed his fingers slowly around the doorknob, turning it as quietly as he could before he gently pushed the door open so he and Nathalie could peek inside.

They had come to peek at the monster.

The awful thing looked handsome and harmless. It perched along the edge of a heavy mahogany desk, leaning against it and looking away, towards the window, one hand over its mouth. Jet-black hair fell wavy, as if it had only just dried after a swim in the ocean, over beautiful eyes and curled around its ears. Its hair was all mussed up, as if it’d been grabbed at and pulled on, but the creature didn’t seem to notice.

It looked, with the last of the sunset’s yellowed light shining on its warm brown skin, like a sort of perfectly sculptured mockery of a human man, the most beautiful one Ford had ever seen in his life. It was only a trick, of course - it was more of a demon.

Ford had seen its real face when it killed his real father, a mouth that opened too wide and was full of hideous sharp teeth.

It wore some sort of loose robe that fell off one shoulder. It was covered in embroidered flowers in white against the shining pale blue fabric and tied at the waist. Its arms were crossed in front of itself and it hunched over, just slightly. The markings like tattoos that began just under his jaw on one side disappeared into the neckline where it lay over the thing’s collarbone and then reappeared along one delicately formed wrist, running all the way into its palm and over its long, elegant fingers. One of its legs was marked, too. When Ford looked at the monster’s feet, he could see one was covered in the same markings all the way to the very end of its toes.

“It's done, for now,” The monster said to no one, its voice soft. It spoke like a melody, a rumbling bass that could just as easily soar to tenor. Ford had taken singing lessons, for a while. He was hopelessly rubbish at it.

The twins, though, were good. And the monster sang like heaven.

There was a pause.

“Done,” It repeated, dropping to a whisper. Its voice cracked and broke this time, rasping. There was a horrible sorrow and anger in the lines of its beautiful face. “For now." Its voice rasped, suddenly, went rough-edged like it was talking around something blocking its throat. "Until the next, and the next, and the next…”

When it looked to the window, towards the sunset, the light glimmered along trails of shimmering wetness that ran down its cheek. Its body shook, and it dropped its head into its hands, letting out a wretched, shuddering sob.

He’d seen this thing murder his real father, sing him into the pond in the garden and then rip out his throat and stain the water red while Ford had watched, unseen, his own hands clamped tight over his mouth beneath his wide, nearly bulging eyes. He had been screaming, desperately muffling the sound, until he’d run for his mother, and discovered that she… she wasn’t the same either, anymore.

She hadn't died for years after, but really she had been mostly dead already, as soon as his real father was.

Once the monster sang to you, he took whatever he wanted of you away, and only left what was useful for the family. Which just meant useful for Lord Wentworth, which Ford’s real father hadn't been any longer.

The monster had taken from Ford’s mother even the memory of his true father. No one had cared enough to bother to take it from Ford, or Nathalie. No one listened when they insisted their father was someone else, someone no one in the house even knew had ever existed any longer. The twins had only been babies, and they wouldn’t remember anyway.

Weeping or not, it wasn’t a person, and Ford steeled himself against how much it hurt to watch the thing cry. It might weep like a man, and look like one, but Ford had seen it kill on command.

The creature turned away toward the window, its back now to the children spying on it from the doorway. Ford and Nathalie both inhaled sharply as the robe it wore slipped a little, dipping low enough to show that it was bleeding.

Ford felt something cold and shivery-sick dip in his stomach as he saw stripes of torn-open skin smeared in a horrible too-bright red just above its shoulder blades and down its back, disappearing beneath the shining black satin, only to still show through in spots here and there that seemed to stick to its skin. The blue robe turned the blood soaking through it purple, a sickly color that made Ford think he might be sick all over the floor.

There was-

There was so much blood.

Ford’s throat suddenly felt like it might close all on its own, and he jerked in a hissed breath. He felt sick just looking at it, too bright and too red. His stomach flipped and twisted, his heart racing its way up his throat as if it might come flying out his mouth.

There was blood on the floor, spattered on the wall by the window. It looked like a murder had been done, and yet Lord Fellswooth and the monster had been alone, and only the monster wore wounds.

What had Lord Fellswooth done to it?

Fellswooth had lifted his upper lip in a sneer just looking at how dusty Ford had been when he’d returned from the afternoon ride on his favorite horse. He’d run fingers over the washbasin stand checking for specks of dust Mr. Keller and the other servants might have missed. He’d shuddered just walking in the front door when the stable boy’s wolfhound had tried to lick at his palm.

What sort of man who could be so fussy as all that could tear the monster’s back to shreds and simply leave his blood running down his body to drip to the floor as he stood by the window?

How badly must all those wounds hurt?

Not that Ford cared, or anything. It was a murderous monster creature his false father used to enthrall and get what he wanted out of everyone who came near him. It wasn’t even human, it spent almost all its time in water hiding under the surface, coming out only when Lord Wentworth summoned it. Ford didn’t care about it at all.

But…

But that didn’t mean he thought it should bleed like that.

Even monstrous animals were only animals, after all, and this might be a creature of murder but did it need to suffer for that? For someone else's fun?

The monster, standing before the window staring out at the setting sun, began to sing to itself. Unlike the song they’d heard before when it was alone with Lord Fellswooth, this song was neither strident nor even very loud - it was a private song, one it sang only for itself. Its perfect voice did not swell or even rise much. Instead, each note seemed like a sidestep to the last, a winding staircase of melody that it wrapped around itself like a kind of blanket.

Ford caught his breath, listening. He could almost hear where a harmony should be, if there had been more of those… things… singing at once. Maybe this had been a song it sang with its own family, if it had had one.

Did monsters have mothers, like men did? They must. Everything living had a mother at one point or another, didn’t it?

The song was his pain, Ford realized. Winding and circling itself, neverending, a river even monsters would drown in when they never found shore. It was the creature's way of crying, beyond human tears. It wept, by the window, in a way that stole Ford's breath and made him want to weep alongside it.

“He’s so pretty,” Nathalie breathed, just beside him, her own wide eyes shining with tears. Her voice was too loud but his own felt too caught in his throat to shush her again. “He’s so pretty, Ford, isn’t he?”

The monster’s voice cut off all at once.

It spun around to see the two children who had - without realizing it - leaned further and slid the door a little more open. Ford’s heart dropped to his knees as those fathomless dark eyes locked on his. He and Nathalie both gasped as they fell under the thing's direct regard.

“Oh, no,” He whispered. "Nathalie-"

The monster opened its mouth in a snarl as it pulled its robe so tightly around itself nearly none of its skin could be seen any longer. Ford and Nathalie both froze at the sight of row after row of razor-sharp pointed teeth as it bared them.

“Go!” It snapped, in a voice that was not human, that spoke the human tongue in a roar and with a mouth not made for it. “Go away from me! Now!"

Ford's heart was in his throat "We're-... w-we're sorry-"

"Fear the monster your father keeps more than death itself and get away from me!”

The last was a shrieking command, not a song but a singular deafening note. Ford felt himself turning before he could even breathe. The command took effortless hold and he grabbed Nathalie's hand.

Get away from me.

The children could never have done anything but obey.

They fled shouting their fear of the monster, half-falling down the stairs and racing outside until Mr. Keller, who had seen Fellswooth off, caught them in his arms. Both of them burst into tears, there, while the stableboy and the groomsman stared surreptitiously in confusion. Mr. Keller held them, and shushed them, and finally took them to the stables in the hopes that he could calm their tears before Lord Wentworth overheard.

Inside, Guilford Wentworth’s monster sagged and then sank to the floor, his knees simply giving way until they touched the rug beneath him. He bent over until his forehead brushed the fibrous cloth, and he wept again.

This time, he wept in silence.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee@angelsproject

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karatekels · 9 months

Note

- Would you like CK OR KK3 Terry?

I would like Cobra Kai Terry, please! The Silver Daddy in all his glory! 😭

- if there's any particular scenario or bit of dialogue you have in mind that can help me paint a picture a bit more (anything you want or don't want to see!)

Nothing in particular. But I got the idea of Terry's beloved having a size kink from scenes in Cobra Kai. I noticed that Terry seemed to stretch to full height like a cobra ready to strike! I have a feeling he knew it would intimidate others (during the tournament, especially). I always found that really hot instead of frightening. I wondered how Terry would react to his beloved feeling this way and figured he'd be delighted by it. Haha.

Original Prompt: (by anonymous)

Can you write a story where [CK] Terry Silver's beloved has a size kink? I don't mean just his *ahem* package but also his overall height, broad shoulders, and strength. Silver is massive! And, I think he'd get a kick out of knowing his beloved isn't intimidated when he stretches to full height but instead is incredibly turned on.

---

I’m happy to write this for you anon! I was inspired by the scene where Terry and Daniel fight in Stingray’s apartment, since that’s the scene I watch for…inspiration when writing these. Terry stepping on Daniel definitely awakened something in me lol. Enjoy!

---

As I Am

---

“You thought you could get him to turn on me?”

You’d swear that that was Terry’s voice, but he had gone out earlier that day, and said he would likely be gone for a couple of hours. You follow the sound down one of the many hallways in Terry’s house, trying to figure out what you’d heard.

“Actions have consequences, Mr. LaRusso.” There it was again: Terry’s voice. You see a door cracked open further down the hall, and open it. The lights automatically come on, and you see two walls completely covered by small monitors. This must be one of the security rooms for the house.

“Look, I’m not here for trouble, okay? I’m not in the war. I surrender, if that’s what you want to hear… the valley is yours.”

You know you shouldn’t pry, especially when it came to Terry and Daniel LaRusso – he’d told you to stay out of it, for your safety, and you’d agreed – but couldn’t stop your curiosity from getting the better of you. You hit the space bar on the keyboard to bring the system out of sleep mode, and enter the security code that Terry had trusted you with.

The cameras detecting motion light up, narrowing down your options, and you quickly find the one you’re looking for: Terry, impeccably dressed in all black, his silver hair tied back and looking every bit the sexy villain you adored, standing at a distance from Daniel LaRusso, looking small and…skittish.

“The valley?” Terry asks incredulously, shaking his head as though disappointed. “It never ceases to amaze me how small your mind is.” He gestures emphatically with his large, beautiful hands, hands that you always loved to look at, whether he was playing the piano for you or running them along your body, teasing you until…

You blink, turning your focus to the screen once more, and watching Terry slowly walking towards LaRusso.

“I don’t give a shit about your valley. I’ve got much bigger plans.”

“Well, leave me out of them,” Daniel says dismissively, moving to walk around Terry and leave.

Terry follows the movement, leaning his body to subtly block Daniel, seeming to fill the space suddenly, playing with his hands nonchalantly. His eyes are locked on Daniel the whole time, a smile playing at his lips. The way Terry moved was hypnotic; he radiated strength at all times, but the way he moved was so slow, so easy, so measured… he was in total control of himself at all times, and it seriously turned you on. You lick your lips subconsciously, finding yourself moving closer to the screen.

“It’s remarkable how easy it was to disrupt your marriage.”

Daniel drops the box he’s holding to the ground, his face starting to show anger. Terry always knew just how to push the other man’s buttons; he knew how to push everyone’s buttons, really, but LaRusso seemed to be a favourite of his ever since he resumed running Cobra Kai. You really didn’t care about the fight or the history or who would win the karate war, as long as it meant Terry would keep wearing that gi, coming home sweaty and delicious…

“You opened the door and let me just waltz right in.” he says, chuckling all the while. His cockiness, his laughter, everything about him was like he had been designed just to drive you wild.

“Imagine how easy it’s gonna be,” he continues, moving even closer to Daniel, dwarfing him with his size, “to wrap Cobra Kai gis… around both your kids.”

This is the last straw for LaRusso, and he shoves Terry back before swinging at him, managing to land a hit to his face. There is a brief moment of panic that floods through you as you worry your love has been hurt, but then Terry laughs, encouraging Daniel, and you remember who you’re engaged to. You can tell that he’s getting riled up; your man loved a fight and, remembering how desperate he had been to take you the moment he got home after fights in the past, you find yourself responding in kind. Terry didn’t like you to see him being violent; he’d only hurt people in front of you a handful of times during your relationship, and only because he was protecting you from a scumbag.

He’d said it was because he didn’t want you to get upset or scared, but looking at him now, wrapping his arms around LaRusso’s and holding him steady before headbutting him, sending the man flying with a broken nose, all you wanted was to throw yourself at him. He was so elegant, moving with such speed and strength for his age, his high kick sent your stomach flipping into knots. Terry stands over LaRusso, cold rage simmering within him as he accuses him of getting in his way for months, only to surrender when he was losing. Well, that’s not how Terry did things, you knew.

While LaRusso gets a couple more hits in on him, Terry sees the punch coming, striking out like a cobra with a leg and getting the man right in the shoulder, setting him up to grab his arm and send his elbow into his rotator cuff, dislocating his shoulder. Shouldn’t you be more upset by this? you wonder to yourself, watching LaRusso go down to the ground, Terry panting over him. He steps on LaRusso’s shoulder with a black boot, and you feel another flood of arousal wash over you, seeing how dominant your man was as he snaps the man’s shoulder back into place with his foot, threatening him and showing him mercy all the while before leaving the room, wherever it was.

You shut the lights off, fleeing the room for the nearest bathroom, not wanting to come apart and have one of the staff find you. Bracing yourself against the sink, you take a look at your reflection, noting your flushed cheeks and dark eyes shining with lust, chest heaving. Another few minutes of watching Terry like that and you think you may have come without him even touching you. You had to have him just like that, using all of his size and strength and taking you, not holding anything back.

But how could you get away with it when you weren’t supposed to have seen what you just witnessed?

--- Terry’s POV ---

You were nowhere to be found when Terry arrived home an hour or so later; upon questioning the staff a maid said that you were in the bedroom getting ready for dinner tonight. A bit strange, he thought, but not unheard of; sometimes you liked getting all dolled up just to stay with him in the house, and he was more than okay with it. He moved into one of the studies on the main floor, pouring himself a stiff drink and sitting in his favourite armchair, sipping it slowly while he pondered everything going on with LaRusso.

Awhile later, Terry hears the sound of your heels on the marble floor approaching him, and turns, finding you in the door way in a very low-cut black bodycon dress that hit the middle of your thighs, wearing stockings and black heels, your hair flowing past your shoulders and your face glowing with subtle makeup that accentuated your naturally beautiful features.

He feels his cock stir against his thigh.

“Y/N…darling, you look incredible. What’s the occasion?” he asks, half-joking, as this was over-the-top for one of your “fun night in” looks; not that he minded, he thinks to himself, eyes taking in your cleavage hungrily. Your own gaze roams his body before you look up at him with a coy smile.

“Oh, nothing!” you chirp, seeming almost giddy. “I’ve just been thinking about you all day. C’mon, dinner’s ready.” You turn and walk down the hallway to the kitchen, your hips swaying very intentionally. Minx, he thinks to himself, watching you walk away, but he knows he should be grateful that a stunning younger woman such as yourself wanted him as badly as he wanted you. Still, he thought, making his way to the dining room, you were clearly up to something. He’d give you until after dinner before dragging the answer out of you.

---

Someone from the kitchen staff clears your plates away, leaving you with your glass of red and Terry with his whiskey. You hadn’t cracked yet, but you were showing all the signs, your eyes flitting to him nervously and then away. Were you having an affair? He thought it unlikely, but then, he’d been betrayed numerous times before.

“What’s troubling you, my dear?” he asks, trying for the non-confrontational approach first. Your eyes snap to his nervously, a light blush forming across your cheeks.

“Nothing is wrong, honey,” you say, your voice an octave higher than usual. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you look like a deer in the headlights, and you’ve been acting more and more nervous as the night has gone on. Please tell me, sweetheart, and I’ll fix the issue, I promise.”

You take a deep, calming breath, and Terry imperceptibly tenses his body, preparing for the worst.

“Please don’t get mad, okay? I thought I heard your voice and followed it and I went into the security room and… and I saw you fighting Daniel LaRusso,” you confess, worrying your lower lip between your teeth, brow furrowed in concern.

Terry stills, chewing the bite of food in his mouth thoroughly as he thinks this over. Compared to what he had been imagining you were going to tell him, this was nothing, and he is immediately relieved. Still, the only way for you to have seen what had happened in that apartment was if someone had abandoned their post in the security room, allowing you to slip inside. He would go see to it immediately that the culprit was identified and fired; if they were shirking their security duties, that put you at risk, and that was unacceptable.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, my love,” he apologizes, sincerity ringing in his tone. He didn’t want to alarm you; he was so careful to keep his violent tendencies away from you. You were so small and sweet, so delicate… he’d never forgive himself for frightening you. “I’m completely fine, and please believe me when I say I never want you to see me like that.”

Rather than looking relieved at his words, or even still scared and distrusting of him – he’d really wailed on LaRusso today – you seem a bit put out. Tilting his head, he surveys you, staring at you until you feel his gaze on you and look up to lock eyes with him. He silently implores you to tell him what’s going on with you, and he sees you struggle for a long moment as you consider what to say. After what feels like ages, you look up across the table at him with determination.

“Watching you kick LaRusso’s ass was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what he had expected, Terry thinks, but feels something primal within himself stretch to its full height, glowing with pride. Polishing off his drink, he surveys you over the rim of his glass, and sees your eyes fixed on his hand around his glass. Setting the glass down, he runs a finger around the rim, watching your eyes follow as they darkened with lust. Had watching him fight given you a fascination with his hands? Only one way to find out.

Moving slowly, precisely, Terry gets out of his seat, walking around the table and coming to the side of your chair. Reaching down, he grabs the back of your seat, one hand on either side of your hips, and spins the chair in a sharp movement so that you’re facing him. Your blush is working its way down your neck, the way it did when you got really turned on. Interesting… Keeping his arms on either side of you, keeping you trapped by his large body, he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“So you liked what you saw, did you?” he murmurs in a husky voice that has your blood rushing in your ears. He hears your sharp intake of breath, feeling you nod vigorously into the crook between his neck and shoulder. He smiles to himself before taking your earlobe in between his lips, nibbling it gently, and you shiver against him. “What did you like, baby girl? You know I’ll do anything to please you; you just have to ask…”

--- Reader’s POV ---

You swallow heavily before you can bring yourself to speak. “I…fuck, Terry, I liked it all. You were so intimidating and dominant and imposing and it was just so sexy to see you fully…you… I know that you’re always doing little things like walking slower or hunching down a bit to seem smaller, and that’s really sweet, but seeing you let that all go and just go for it was…well, I nearly came just from watching you fight through the monitor.”

Terry’s hands come around your upper arms suddenly, and he lifts you out of your chair and to your feet in a fluid movement that takes you by surprise. He trails one hand down your body to wrap around your waist, the other reaching up to cradle your face; he could hold your head in one hand so easily…

“And you thought you would just dress yourself up like a pretty little doll and get what you wanted, hmm?” he asks quietly, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, making you moan at the slight sting as he tugs on your locks. “You want me to throw my weight around, lovely? Throw you around? Your wish is my command.”

He lifts you into his arms again with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, his hands holding you by your upper thighs, fingers toying with the bare skin under your dress where your stockings ended. You whimper, and he silences you, kissing you fiercely, moving to the nearest wall and slamming you against it hard, pinning you to it with his body. You kiss him back with just as much passion, squeezing your thighs around him and feeling his large hands squeeze you in return. He holds you steady with one hand, releasing his cock from his trousers with the other before bunching your dress up past your hips, pushing your panties to the side, and lowering you onto his cock with ease.

You groan as he enters you so suddenly; wet as you were for him – you had been since you had seen him through the security monitors – Terry was still huge, and always stretched you until you thought he would break you in half. Keeping you supported with one hand underneath you, he fucks you hard against the wall, his other hand reaching between you to play with your clit and help your body relax and adjust to fit him. The rough stone wall is raking your bare back and your ass as you bounce up and down on his cock, undoubtedly leaving scrapes, and the sensation heightens your pleasure and before long, he’s got you moaning wantonly, loud enough for anyone on the property to hear.

“Oh fuck Terry, yes!” you cry out in ecstasy, letting him have his way with you as he pumps you up and down on his cock, feeling like he’s somehow everywhere at once, on you and in you and it’s better than you could have imagined. You don’t think you could ever get enough of this man.

“Is this what you wanted, baby girl?” Terry growls, panting hotly against your neck and making your eyes roll back into your head. “You needed a reminder of who you belong to, huh? You needed my cock to fuck this tight little pussy, didn’t you?”

“God yes, Terry, I need your big cock – fuck, it’s so good! I’m so close!” you wail, trying to roll your hips as he fucked you to get some friction on your clit. He pulls out of you suddenly and you actually whine at the loss of him inside you. Looking up at him in desperation as he sets you on the ground, you take the moment to appreciate how incredibly hot it is, having this Adonis of a man all to yourself.

“You need to pace yourself, little one. I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

Without another word, he tosses you over his shoulder, making sure your pussy and dripping thighs are exposed, and you squirm against his broad shoulder at the thought of someone seeing you like this. Terry chuckles, and you know that he has guessed your thoughts, his hand moving even further up your thighs as he carries you towards the bedroom. You clench your legs together tightly in response, to trap his hand in retribution for all the teasing, and his fingers merely grip your flesh more firmly, making you whimper.

Kicking open the door to the bedroom, he tosses you onto the bed before kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket. He tugs his pants down the rest of the way, stepping out of them, and moves to unbutton his shirt, but you scramble off the bed towards him, reaching for him.

“Please let me?” you beg, and he gives you an amused sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you take the reins. You unbutton his shirt slowly from the top down, kissing every inch of his chest as it is revealed to you. Pushing the shirt from his shoulders, you run your hands all over him, savouring the feel of strong muscles under soft skin. Drinking him in with his eyes, you take a (reluctant) step back, reaching behind you to unzip your dress and tug it down your body, letting it pool on the floor at your feet, leaving you in your sexiest pair of black lace underwear, a garter belt holding up your stockings, and your heels.

Even when he’s sitting on the bed, Terry towers over you, and you can’t keep from launching yourself at him, straddling his lap and kissing every bit of him you could reach. Digging your nails into his muscular back and tracing patterns across his pectorals with your tongue, Terry hisses in approval, his hands gripping your butt and pulling you against him even tighter, spreading your legs wider against his hips, opening you up to him.

Kneading your ass with his hands, he guides your hips up and down, grinding your center against his hard cock, and you throw your head back, reaching back to grip his knees for support. Wasn’t a lap dance intended to please the recipient? you wonder as your underwear creates the perfect friction against your clit, making you moan.

“Such an eager little thing for me, aren’t you Y/N?” Terry croons as you grind desperately on his lap. You nod furiously, unable to form words, your wailing taking on a higher pitch as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around you as he sucks hard. You try to arch your back away from him, feeling overstimulated, but he holds you fast, one hand travelling up your spine and keeping your back where he wants it.

“Oh, there’s no getting away from me now, darling,” he purrs around your breast, the vibrations sending heat through your veins. “You’re going to take all of me with this tight little body of yours.”

He keeps you against his cock and you stay put, behaving, and his hands move down your body to your feet hanging off the edge of the bed, removing your heels one by one before returning his hands to your waist, lifting you up to stand between his legs. He pins you in place with his eyes, his hands teasing the tender flesh of your hips in small circles. You worry your knees may give out.

“If you want to keep these,” his fingers toy with your underwear, “you’d better get them off now, or I will rip them off of you. Keep everything else on,” he orders, and you reach down to undo the garter belt from your stockings with trembling fingers, tugging your underwear down before refastening everything.

“Good girl,” Terry praises, taking your hips in hand once more and spinning you so your back is to him. He lifts you up with ease, still sitting on the bed, and pulls you onto his lap backwards, keeping your legs spread to either side of his knees.

“Knees on the bed, baby,” he commands, and you hasten to do so, spreading yourself open. He lifts you up, bending you forward slightly, and guides you back onto his cock, leaning you back against his chest and thrusting up into you from behind. He keeps one hand wrapped around your waist to keep you still, his hips thrusting slow and deep, and his other hand slides up your body to wrap around your neck, squeezing gently. You’re feeling so deliciously full, and used, that all you can do is take it, take everything Terry is doing to you.

“Open your eyes baby girl, and watch yourself,” he demands, his voice hoarse in your ear, and you force your eyes open, noticing for the first time that Terry has positioned you both to be in clear view of the floor-length mirror in your bedroom. “Watch that tight cunt take my big cock like it was meant to.”

You feel like you’re on the verge of passing out from everything, his words taking you right to the edge, but fight to keep your eyes open, watching your slack-jawed reflection stretched around Terry’s massive body, his massive cock thrusting into you, locking eyes with your tear-filled ones, the look on his face nearly having you coming on his cock.

“You’re close, love, I can feel it,” he moans in your ear, his hand trailing from your neck down your body. “Let go for me, darling. I want to feel that pretty pussy milk my cock as you come for me.”

His hand reaches your clit, his talented fingers bringing you to the peak with ease as you shatter, your whole body seeming to clench around his cock like it was trying to keep him inside you. Terry maintains his torturously slow, deep thrusts, holding you down and fucking you through your orgasm as you scream until your voice is hoarse. Eventually your pussy relaxes around his cock once more, and you whimper at every pump of his hips, feeling completely spent.

But Terry isn’t through with you yet, lifting you off his cock reluctantly to flip you around, laying you down on the bed on your back before entering you again, helping you lock your legs around him as your body struggles to do it on its own. He leans down, bracing his body on either side of you to keep from crushing you, completely caging you in. He rests his forehead on yours, eyes staring into you with lust and devotion and pouring that passion into a kiss that has your toes curling.

“You know I love watching your pretty face as I fill you up, Y/N,” he moans against your lips, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he lifts you up to an angle that lets him fuck you even deeper.

“Fuck baby, you’re so much… so good,” you groan out in between gasps as his thrusts physically take your breath away. Your speech is slurred, you’re completely cock-drunk, and you feel a second orgasm growing within you.

“I should have known you would want to take all of me, just as I am, just like this,” Terry growls, punctuating every word with a pump of his hips. “You were made for me, my little succubus.”

He leans back, keeping your hips in position, arced up off the bed, looking down your body to your face, a mask of ecstasy. You made such delicious sounds when you were losing your mind to pleasure. Reaching down, he lays a large, warm hand over your abdomen, pressing on it gently, and he groans at the sensation, though the noise is drowned out as you positively shriek as this makes his cock stroke your G-spot with every movement.

“I can feel my cock stretching you out, baby,” he hisses, speeding up as he gets close. He grabs one of your wrists, pulling it away from the sheets you’ve clenched in your fist in desperation, and lays it on your stomach as well. Your eyes widen in shock, your jaw falling open as you feel his cock through your body. A shudder goes through your whole body, and Terry feels it too; you’re both so wrapped up in one another that you’re practically one.

“Shit baby, that’s so fucking hot – you feel huge inside me” you whimper, pressing down more firmly on your abdomen; his cock feels the increased pressure, and his eyes roll back. “I can’t take much more, Terry. Pump me full, please!”

Terry removes your legs from their death grip around his waist, lifting them up to his shoulders and leaning over you, pressing you almost in half as he quickens his pace. You reach down between you, playing with your clit frantically, and Terry growls in approval, staring down at you with hungry eyes.

“That’s right baby, get yourself off around my cock again. I want you to squeeze every last drop out of me!”

His words seem to set you off more than anything else, and you come hard again with a wail, Terry’s hand replacing your own and working at your clit to draw out your orgasm, his other hand somehow managing to grab both of yours and pinning them above your head, stopping you from moving his hand away from your pussy; your pleasure only ended when he was satisfied. Your tears roll down your cheeks as you whine incoherently, completely overstimulated, and it’s only when Terry sees you start to fade that he finally lets go, coming deep inside you with a roar.

His movements slow, and then stop completely, as you both fight to catch your breath, sweating and satisfied. He releases your wrists, his hands moving to either side of you as he lifts his weight off of you, his cock slipping out of you as he rolls onto his back beside you, pulling you into an embrace on top of him.

“Terry…” you gasp out his name, your body spasming uncontrollably. “Oh my God, Terry!” you wail, feeling little aftershocks of your orgasm wrack your body. He wraps his arms around you protectively, stroking your hair soothingly.

“It’s okay, love, I’ve got you. It’ll pass in a minute or two; your body is just in a bit of shock from how intense everything was,” he explains, and you nod, feeling safe in his arms as you ride out the feeling. Eventually, your body stops shuddering and you relax, leaning up to kiss him softly on the mouth, looking down at him with adoration.

“You were…that was incredible,” you breathe, unable to find the words to adequately explain the best sex you’d ever had. He laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, stroking your cheek fondly as he looks up at you with an expression of pure love.

“Maybe next time I have to deal with Danny Boy, you come along, hmm?”

---

…I had a great deal of fun writing this. Hope you all enjoy!

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #smut #sensei targaryen #the karate kid 3 #kk3 #i am this close to calling him Daddy

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zooophagous · 5 months

Text

Ursula sat in front of her computer with her trademark weary scowl. She had slain vampires, wrangled werewolves, and even dealt with the FBI on more than one incredibly unpleasant occasion. All of that was fine. All of that was in her wheelhouse.

Scheduling, however?

Grueling.

Mark had asked for Thanksgiving off. Only twenty minutes later, Sabrina had also requested it off. They were both late, and both lacked seniority, and now Ursula was tasked with applying the proverbial wisdom of Solomon to rectify the hole in staffing, and regrettably couldn’t just fix it by cutting someone in half. Both of them were young and had families. Both of them had to be out of town. She could, of course, plug the hole in staffing herself by working a double. Again.

She ran her fingers through her silver curls and rested her head on her hands, and her elbows on her desk. She plugged her own name into the empty spot. So much for a day off. It was fine, it was fine. What better way to spend the day than with unpaid overtime? Besides, Artie was her only real family, and Artie would more than likely still be here. She was always here.

Maybe that was part of the problem. It wasn’t really normal for someone to be this addicted to work, even by Ursula’s standards. She had a few work friends, sure. But one of them was dead. And she wasn’t really supposed to be getting as close to that one as she seemed to be. Codependent relationships with a vampire were certainly unhealthy for both parties. Maybe Artie needed a vacation. Maybe they could take that trip to the Hagia Sophia or the Vatican.

She clicked off the scheduling app and into a search bar for some sort of plane tickets. It would be very doable with the right budget. Spend a week, no- two weeks away from work and research and far away from any Goddamned vampires for just a little bit and maybe the distance would give her some perspective and-

“Miss Harker?”

The intercom buzzed and shattered her reverie.

“Yes, Sandy?”

“There’s um. A Mr. Akeley here to see you?”

Ursula paused. “Akeley?”

Sandy was silent. Ursula slammed the button down hard in annoyance.

“Sandy did he say his name was Jonathan Akeley?”

The intercom clicked on again to a cacophony of muddied voices, Sandy among them loudly protesting “I said wait by the-” and “You can’t all go in there-”

“Hello Ursula.”

She looked up from her desk to see a man, then two, then four, pouring into her office from the hall. They all wore uniforms not dissimilar to the ones on the Institute’s own security team. Their apparent leader was tall and athletic and all too familiar. A lawyerly smile made of porcelain veneers grinned sarcastically down at her from a head of sandy blonde hair.

He always did have an incredibly punchable face.

“Jonathan. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I can smell you coming from the parking lot.” She huffed. “What is this little dress up game you’re all playing? Is this your idea of dressing for the job you want, and not the one you have?”

“Cute. You think I want to work for you. Actually, Harker, you work for me now.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what the fuck you mean.”

“Oh? Haven’t you heard?”

Jonathan produced a manila envelope and made a show of placing a set of reading spectacles on the tip of his nose. “By the order of… oh, how embarrassing. His holiness the pope? We’ve been granted the authority to remove from the control of the Van Helsing Institute a one “Project Symbiosis” and any living, unliving or deceased subject(s) from the premises with extreme prejudice and by any means deemed necessary and likely to prevent further human harm.”

He tossed the envelope to her and it flopped onto her desk. She grabbed it in her fist and furiously began to read it.

“What the Hell is the meaning of all of this?! And they sent you of all people! Why?”

“Oh, something about how your little pet project has been running amok in the city, claiming victims and otherwise being out and about without a chaperone. More than once I may add.”

“His victims are alive and unhurt and were fairly compensated by the-”

“Oh?” Jonathan cut her off and reached into his coat pocket for yet another envelope. “So these photos I have of a father Gregor White flayed like a fish in his own home aren’t anything to you?”

She blanched. “Gregor… I don’t. What do you mean flayed? Father white is dead?”

“Yes, very dead. Incredibly dead. And it just so happens that we have some pretty clear photos of the director and… Strauss, is it? Leaving his house via one of the Institute’s vans. The body was discovered just a few hours later. Pretty damning stuff, Harker.”

“I don’t understand.” She breathed heavily and began to reach beneath her desk for the emergency security button.

“Of course you don’t. It is the belief of the church that you all have fallen under the sway of a powerful elder vampire you thought you could control, and now you’re enabling him instead. Don’t be embarrassed, you aren’t the first weak minded thrall to be a victim to these predators. You couldn’t be given any advance warning of the project’s takeover, or the specimen would have time to mount a defense, you see. Don’t worry though Harker. I’ll take it from here.”

“Like Hell you will.”

“We thought you might say something like that. Hell can be arranged.”

The floor shook. Picture frames rattled on the walls behind Ursula’s desk. She gripped the arms of her flimsy office chair as if they could catch her. A dull roar like a crashing semi croaked through the frame and foundation of the building.

“What… what have you done?!”

“Don’t worry about it Harker. Worry about yourself. You’re under arrest. And so is everyone here. You’ll all come quietly if you know what’s good for you.”

Strauss stood in a corn field. It was not unlike the one he had nearly lost his life in, not that long ago- except that this one was green and soft. It was sunny here, but not painful. A figure approached him, wading through the swaying crops. It was Artemis.

“I’m happy you found me.” He approached her with a smile. She opened her mouth to speak.

A harsh siren escaped from her open jaws. Strauss opened his eyes. The emergency alarm was going off, but it was different this time. There was a secondary noise to it, one of a higher pitch, quickly throwing off his equilibrium. He clamped his claws over his ears and desperately fumbled for his ear plugs, dropping one, inserting the other and making his way to the hall with one hand clamped over the unprotected ear.

This alarm was not one of Troy’s outbursts. A loud pop, a flash of light, and a thick shroud of painful, acrid smoke filled the hallway. He struggled still half asleep to parse what was happening. Red light, loud noises, and smoke could only mean one thing.

Fire.

There were shapes moving in the haze- not the staff, armored shapes, the likes of which could have fallen out of his old memories of war. The pain of the smoke and the siren and the anger at what could only be some manner of attack was outweighed only by the deep, instinctual fear of flame. It wasn’t a fight he could win.

He turned away from the intruders and he bolted.

Artemis and Troy sat at the plastic dining room table with their phones in their hands. Artie’s phone buzzed, and she huffed a little quiet laugh through her nose. “Where do you keep finding these stupid sad cat memes?”

“Instagram literally will not stop recommending them to me.” Troy replied as he casually hit send on a couple more. The quiet moment was interrupted by a loud clunk! And then a clank! And then a pop, bang, fizz. The hall outside the commissary lit up with a white flash, and then became opaque with gray smoke.

Artemis jumped to her feet and furiously waved for Troy to follow, though he was already halfway out of his own chair. The path to the dorms was a wall of haze. It hurt to look at, and it was already making her throat close. The fire alarm screamed to life in an instant. Distant hollering could be heard bouncing chaotically through the facility.

“What the fuck is that?!” Troy yelled.

“Be quiet. Something is wrong. Really wrong. We need to go. Emergency exit in the south garage bay.” She grabbed his shirt and began to power-walk him down the hall.

“We can’t just leave everyone behind in a burning building-”

“We can’t do very much to help them. The staff will have to remember their training.”

“What about Strauss?”

“The dorms are a fire break. If he stays put he can wait it out.”

“Does he know to do that?”

“I sure hope so Troy.”

The pair met with a herd of staff moving towards the garage bay in a very organized panic. The presence of the director gave at least a tiny semblance of control.

“Wait.” Troy broke away from the pack.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“The mice! Strauss’ mice!”

“You are not risking your life for some Goddamn MICE Troy!”

“I’m not leaving an innocent animal behind to burn to death.”

Artemis grunted in annoyance and ran down the bay after him.

Ursula stood at her desk with her hands pinned behind her back. Her trademark snark was eerily silent. Partially because she was worried deeply for the staff- Sandy was already getting hauled away despite her protests. Poor girl. There goes another receptionist- And partially because the more clever parts of her brain were busy working on the next steps.

One thing she was not worried about was Artie. Artie knew what to do and how to do it. No doubt she was already leading an evacuation with Troy and Strauss in tow. Though really, would it be a bad idea to leave Mr. Strauss? Dead weight, in more ways than one, after all.

“Ok granny. You got anything in your pockets that’s going to stick me if I frisk you?”

“I certainly hope so.” She replied to the dull man who had her arms in a lock.

“You gonna cooperate or do we need to make this even harder?”

“I don’t care if your job is hard. I don’t care if you die today.”

“Alright. Lets get to the car then.”

“No.”

“Wasn’t asking.”

He yanked her up rudely by her arm and began to ‘escort’ her to the front door. This was all so stupid. If Mr. Strauss were truly a formidable vampire, a REAL one, like the good old days, this sort of thing would already be dealt with. A REAL elder vampire wouldn’t suffer fools so well, or be such a lousy dead weight.

Hm. Dead weight. Now there’s a thought.

She did her best impression of a sack of sand and went limp in the ersatz cop’s hands. He struggled to keep her up. It was harder playing dead than it looked, being dragged by one’s arms was actually quite painful- but so was breaking your lower back trying to haul a body that very much did not wish to be hauled.

He dropped her with a grunt.

“Lady, enough with the drama. Just get up and get in the van.”

Ursula was silent.

He leveled a kick at her gut. “I said get the Hell up, fatass.”

She swung her leg and knocked him off his feet and onto the floor. He landed flat, and before he could get up, she raised that same leg up and brought it down hard into the man’s temple. The heavy heel of her sensible office appropriate shoe struck him like Cain slaying Abel.

He was probably dead. Ursula didn’t much care. It took some very uncomfortable shimmying to scoot her hands to his belt, and to free the keys to the handcuffs. It was taking minutes- minutes she didn’t have. Finally her hands were free, and she busied herself retrieving the weapons from the increasingly corpselike man who oozed saliva onto her freshly mopped floors.

“Tch. Of course. Jonathan would give his lackeys the cheapest possible service weapons.” She mocked.

“It will have to do.”

She set off down the hall to her office. The weaponry was almost certainly gone, but her gas mask might still be there. She would have to do a sweep and make sure none of the more flighty or panicky staff members managed to get themselves stuck in a dark corner and suffocated to death. Or worse, Mr. Strauss using the opportunity to run off yet again. She’d have to find him first.

It hurt to breathe, so he didn’t. Strauss held his breath and blinked through the annoying haze of the smokescreen that filled the dormitory. It destroyed his sense of smell, and what was worse- his hearing was overwhelmed by the incessant alarm. He wanted to run from it. He needed to run from it. He kept one hand clamped over his unprotected ear, and with his eyes, ears and nose all shut he groped along the wall with his free hand, looking for the door.

There were more people here, all likewise clad in the ugly armor of the slayer. These were not the uniforms he had seen when he or Troy came abreast of security. Two of them spotted him and immediately leveled a rifle in his direction.

His senses were overwhelmed, his head swam in agony, it was easier to submit. He raised his hands and spread his claws wide.

“I yield! I yield! Please, do not harm me-”

A bright flash came and then a searing hot pain tore into his collarbone. He clamped his claw over the bullet wound and fell to the floor with a shriek of pain. He could feel the bullet inside of him like a slug of red hot metal. A silver munition. The gunman prepared to fire again. Strauss bolted forward and narrowly escaped a second shot. He never weighed much, but now, with sour adrenaline churning in the pit of his stomach, gravity barely touched him.

Down the hall at a sprint, and then a leap and a snarl, arms wide, landing and enveloping the shooter in a cloud of sharp edges. The silver threads of the armor stung his fingertips. Pain was a motivator. Break the shell, find the sweet nut-meat in the center. The second gunman was leveling his weapon. Strauss held the mauled body aloft in front of him.

Loud shots echoed in the smoky hall. Strauss felt the vibrations of them wrack his human shield. He threw the limp corpse into the second gunman who crumpled, pinned beneath the weight. Strauss bent over the heap and yanked the rifle from the struggling fool. He broke the weapon over his knee, sending bullets scattering. He took the spent butt end of the broken thing and rammed it into the remaining gunman’s head. Then rammed it again. And again.

The gunman’s skull gave way to a soft pulp. There was a lot of good blood in that pile. Blood he’d have to leave behind. He dug his claw into the wound in his chest and ripped out the burning bullet, along with a not insignificant hunk of his own flesh.

Pity. He liked this shirt.

Others were coming. That was not a quiet kill. Another shot narrowly missed the vampire. The haze and chaos had spared him their aim. He took off again down the hall. He thought of Artemis, and Troy, but there was little to be done. Besides, it was him they wanted. The further he was from his friends, the better. He escaped the dorms and ran towards the library.

Troy ripped the lids off of the screened aquariums that held the white lab mice that made up Strauss’ meals. He’d always sort of dreamed of doing this, truthfully. Strauss had to eat something, but that wasn’t important at the moment. Hopefully he had figured out what to do and got the Hell out.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and take them with you.” Artemis pleaded.

“No, just letting them go. Give them a fighting chance. They deserve that much.”

He upended the cages onto their sides and let the colonies of white rodents run free. Hopefully they, like Strauss, could be guided to safety by their instincts. Artemis set to work freeing the rest of them. Whatever. They’d deal with it later. If there was a later.

“Hold it right there.”

The two of them turned around to see a stranger in a strange yet oddly familiar outfit.

“The fuck are you?” Troy demanded.

“Director Van Helsing?” The stranger, demanded, ignoring Troy.

“Yes?” She stepped back, answering with a guarded tone.

“By the authority of the papacy and the Witchfinder’s alliance, I’m afraid I have to place you under arrest.”

“Bullshit.” Troy squared up.

“Troy, please. You’re making this worse.”

“What, you’re just going to listen to this fucker? Who even are you? The fuck is a witch getter or whatever your stupid name is?”

“Troy.”

The stranger drew a yellow taser from his coat. “I really recommend listening to the director on this one.”

“You’re not taking her.”

POP!

“Troy!” Artemis screamed as the taser sent electricity arcing through Troy’s body. He went stiff and fell to the ground with a grunt. The witchfinder grabbed him by the wrist and wrenched it behind his back to cuff him.

“Stop resisting!” He demanded, while Troy continued to groan in pain and struggle beneath him. “Stop resisting or you’re going to get tased again!”

“Stop! Stop! You have no idea what you’re doing! Get off of him!” Artemis grabbed the stranger and began to pull. The witchfinder dropped Troy, now cuffed, and turned to her.

“Interfering with the process isn’t gonna win you any favors Van Helsing.” He grabbed her by the wrist.

“Just listen to me! I’m trying to help you! We have to get away from him! We have to get out of here now!” She pleaded.

“He’s in cuffs, relax. I have it under control but I need you to-”

Clink- clink- clink. The sound of metal bracelets hitting the floor in pieces. There was a momentary silence, punctuated by ragged, heavy breathing. The witchfinder turned slowly to see Troy had burst from the cuffs, burst from his clothes, burst from his entire skin. A massive, hairy head full of massive pointy teeth gleamed down at him with ropes of angry drool framing the heaving jaws.

He fired his taser. The bolts hung uselessly in the thick hide of the lycan. Troy lurched forward and took the man’s entire head into his mouth, hoisted him into the air and began to shake him furiously.

Artemis curled into a ball and backed into a corner. Blood arced over the walls as the beast whipped his trophy back and forth until it was broken to gory pieces. He dropped the headless corpse with a disgusted grunt. The creature glared at Artemis, who only stared fearfully back at him. He turned from her and began to run back down the hall. Back into the smoke.

Strauss ran down the hall like a bat out of Hell. He knew he was being chased, he knew the building was full of these people. These slayers. Any corner could have an armed death dealer around it. The lighting in the halls grew a dull orange, and the smoke had not abated. The institute was on fire, well and truly, now.

He remembered the library, the criss cross pattern of ugly pipes on the embossed ceiling tiles from the fire suppression system. The brick walls and heavy door separating it from the newer portion of the building. He lacked a clear escape route, but this was the next best thing. Fire at least he could run from.

He burst through the library doors and finally allowed himself to take a breath. The world was quiet here. The sirens were a distant dull roar. He began to hunt for a hiding place. A shelter. The door swung noisily open behind him.

Another gunman stepped in. Strauss ducked his head and began to run. A dangerous breeze sailed over his head and tore through the pages of old books behind him. Another just missed his head and shattered a bookshelf, sending splinters into his face. Strauss grabbed a heavy tome, “Thurgood’s Illustrated Guide to the Erotic Vampire.” Ew. He threw it as hard as he could into the gunman. It struck true and bought him a moment of time.

He fled into the backroom of the library. The medical wing. He startled as the door opened, there was someone here? No. The figures were skeletons mounted on displays. Mummified heads. Skulls with mouths open in silent screams.

He was not, it seemed, the only vampire housed in the institute. There was precious little room to hide here. He was cornered. The shooter arrived looking angry and slightly bruised from a leather bound book to the head.

“Come on out Mr. Strauss.” He ordered.

The room was silent and still. Quietly, carefully the slayer made his way inside, weapon drawn. “I’ll take you alive if you surrender now. Make it easy on me, I’ll make it easy on you.”

The silence was unbroken, and the library was still. The slayer scanned the shelves and specimens with a quiet intensity, looking for movement. He stopped at one display. Very lifelike. He looked at it hard a moment and then raised his rifle to fire.

Strauss ducked from his makeshift hiding spot as the bullets ripped into a shelf of jarred specimens. Yellow preservative spilled across the floor in an explosion of glass and ruined organ meat. The gunman kept firing. An errant spark from the barrage caught the flammable fluid on the floor. It caught and spread in an instant and blanketed the floors and shelves in a tower of flames.

A loud alarm screeched to life. The pipes rattled and hissed, and the library was bathed instantly in a haze of fire suppressant.

No water came from the pipes. Dear Mrs. Harker, in all of her wisdom, would never risk her library to the perils of fire or water. Gas filled the room and smothered the flames. The slayer gasped and began to cough and choke as he was doused in it.

Strauss stepped out of the cloud of smoke and nitrogen and argon. The gunman fell to his knees and looked up with watery eyes at the predatory face that loomed above him. Strauss tilted his head curiously.

He grabbed the stranger by the scalp and raised the struggling man into the air. His jaw clicked as it opened wide, and he tore into his would be killer’s exposed neck. He had once watched Troy tear into a sweet, ripe watermelon with incredible gusto. He pictured it now. The red bits and fibers tearing and falling away. The pink juice, so incredibly sweet, running down his chin. So delicious, and yet so insubstantial, one could almost eat the entire thing before realizing it.

He dropped the spent body carelessly to the floor. Slowly, he padded towards the exit. He swayed in his steps as the heaviness of the meal and the intoxicating thrill of the kill swam in his system. He messily licked his claw clean and sucked his fingertips with a messy smacking sound. He leaned on the walls for support and left a trail of bloody handprints behind him.

The fire in the hallway had spread. The building wouldn’t last much longer. Strauss held his breath and began to jog through the halls. He cared little about the slayers anymore. They’d be dead soon in this, if they were foolish enough to stay. A burning ceiling collapsed in front of him. He stopped and ran back the other way. Fire climbed the walls. He began to panic. Had he escaped death by firing squad only to be burnt at the stake?

It was impossible to see through this, and increasingly impossible to even guide himself out by gripping the walls as the heat behind them built up and broke through as fire. He fell to the floor and began to crawl, finding a small gap of air beneath the blanket of smoke that he could see through.

Another figure appeared in front of him. He stopped- another slayer? This one wasn’t dressed like them. This figure wore a gas mask, and wasn’t in armor, and wasn’t armed. They came to him and began to pull him to his feet.

Could this be the fire department? He clung to them like a scared kitten. Fire caused another wall to noisily collapse behind him and he fell to his knees shaking in apparent terror.

The firefighter bent down and grabbed him, and hoisted him up and over their own shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and began to slowly but steadily plod with determination towards the south garage bay with the petrified vampire in tow.

They turned the corner and were met with a short wall of gunmen guarding the last of the exits. Three rifles in a row leveled and ready to make an end of their quarry. The firefighter skidded to a stop. Strauss held on for dear life.

Behind the gunmen came a terrible noise. It was something deep and reverberating like the motor of a large vehicle. The lycanthrope burst through the garage doors and slammed into the nearest slayer like a freight train, sending him sprawling. The other two began to fire in a panic but heedless of the crossfire. One struck the other, before a mighty paw came down on top of him and slammed his head into the concrete floor. The last, wounded gunman was grabbed and dragged screaming back into the garage.

The firefighter hesitated a moment, but then resolutely went into the bay after them. They stumbled over a shredded limb, and followed the trail of blood deeper into the bay. They dumped Strauss onto the floor.

“Get up and walk. I’m too old for this nonsense.”

“Frau Harker?”

She pulled off the gas mask. “I was hoping I’d find you with Artie. Where is she?”

“I hoped she was with you. What is happening?”

“I’ll tell you when we have a moment. Needless to say it is ENTIRELY your fault but I’ll kill you myself later when this is over.”

A vehicle was chosen. An SUV. Strauss climbed into the back seat and curled into a nervous ball with his knees against his chest. The truck began to move, but Ursula slammed on the brakes and opened the door.

“Artie! Artie over here!”

Artemis came out of her hiding spot and ran to them. The screams of Troy’s victim were silent, but his infuriated roars were filling the bay with sound.

“We have to help Troy. We can’t just leave him here!”

“We’ll leave the door open and he’ll find his own way out. Do you want to go grab him?”

It was all the convincing she needed. She jumped into the front seat and they began to speed away before the garage door even opened completely. There was a ring of strange trucks around the door, and many more strangers in strange uniforms. They lept out of the way of the speeding car, but were quickly distracted by what appeared to be a grizzly bear tearing out of the building and into the terrified rabble.

“We’re just going to leave him to fend for himself?” Strauss demanded as the scene grew smaller and smaller behind them.0

“Lycans are much harder to kill than vampires. He’ll be fine.”

“The town might not be if he gets to it.”

“All we can do is hope he remembers his training.”

“Frau Harker, what happened? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. We’re going to drive till we can’t and then we’re going to figure it out. Are they following us?”

Strauss looked out the back window. “No. I think they are distracted by Troy. If they harm him in any way I will kill them all.”

“They’re probably going to be on the receiving end of the harm, given how poorly equipped they were.” Ursula huffed. Artemis sat in stunned silence in her seat.

Strauss reached his hand up to hers, she grasped it, and held on, and continued holding on for many miles.

#wayward souls #writing #original fiction #this one is a doozy

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 6 months

Note

Helloo, do you have open asks? If so, I would like to ask about hiccup and the "acts of service" w Reader(fem).

If you want it can be a continuation of "sorry, but I think I lost your plot ", but otherwise no problem!

I hope you have a good day <3

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 6

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,911

You find yourself running chores for the Haddocks more often than not. You’re not sure whether this fact irritates or pleases you. At least you’re getting paid (not really).

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, love language, acts of service, part 1

You shifted your arm, pulling the package you carried closer to yourself as you clambered up the steps to the top loft.

You peered over the edge as you pulled yourself up, revealing Hiccup at his desk in the corner, scratching away at a piece of parchment with a newly burnt stick of charcoal. Toothless wasn’t anywhere to be seen, not at the moment. He was probably off hanging with the other dragons while Hiccup did something non-dragon intensive and, therefore, probably Fury-boring.

“Hi,” You started.

“Uh-huh,” Hiccup grunted, after a long moment.

It seemed more of an automatic moment at first, so you weren’t sure he noticed you at first, too absorbed into what he was doing, though at the sound of your footsteps it seemed he did make a minor effort to cover the corner of the paper closest to you with his elbow.

You furrowed your brow as he mumbled something grumpy and noncommittal about his Dad and coming back later.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

He looked up this time, blinking slowly and shifting his arms as if he was about to stretch, before going rigid.

“I heard about your trip to Outcast Island-?” You tried, for the third time, now that you had his attention.

“Oh, hey, hi-!” Hiccup shoved a few papers off his desk, kicking them underneath the table, you tilted your head to the side though you did your best not to look too closely, in case the papers were of a more private nature, “Don’t look at that -I mean, it was nothing big, but-yeah. It was crazy. Did- ah-”

“-And so did everyone else. Mrs.Ingerman put together a care package.” You offered it up to him, ignoring his quiet, confused, mouthed ‘Mrs,’ “So, uh… Delivery!”

“-Hey!” Hiccup said, hiding a strained smile behind a tall pile of pipes and other miscellaneous scraps. The area under his eyes was dark and pronounced and his hair was frayed in some portions.

It was dark, your vision washed over by a thin, navy film since the sun had set just a few hours prior. You had only the heated light of the forge to bring you light and the few lit torches lining Berk’s path to guide you there.

You wondered if you caught Hiccup at the wrong time. You feared the bond you formed scurrying around Dagur had faded, and Hiccup was back to being a little weird again. It brought you a little bit of sadness, but maybe it was for the best. It would be bad to keep meddling in the affairs of plot.

At least you hadn’t surprised him this time, which was minorly pleasing. You tended to do that a lot for some reason, despite not being particularly quiet or sneaky in any way.

“This is for you,” You placed the bow of stew you had balanced in one hand and the plate carrying a heavy leg of meat in the other on one of the nearby workbenches, cautiously and nervously pushing aside a few nails and ends with the uneven edge of the plate.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, already walking towards him, arms partially extended to help him bear the load.

Hiccup had been spending a lot of time in the Forge recently, meaning he’d probably been skipping out on meals. You did it a lot too, but you knew the toll it took. And there were only two meals a day here. It was a very rare but precious day when you were able to scrounge up a lunch for yourself.

If his father hadn’t done it, the Chief would request you to bring down a meal for Hiccup from the Great Hall. It was one of the many tasks you were given that didn’t pay, but you found you didn’t mind. At least in this instance.

It was the Chief, after all. And maybe you felt a little bad for Hiccup.

“Help?” Hiccup asked, wobbling shakily on his peg and foot. You were sure in a moment you’d be the same. While being on Berk helped some, you were afraid that you were unable to shake off your modern scrawny demeanor.

As you brought some of his load into your arms, counting a healthy, large roll of leather, a sack of needles and pins and twine and a thick group of thin, metal rods, You decided to stay.

You marched through the underbrush, pushing aside low-hanging branches and long, scratchy bush fronds, nearly cursing when your sleeve caught and one of your hastily done stitches were pulled.

You weren’t particularly great with a needle, especially the ones they had here, made of bone and a bit thicker than the ones you were used to back home.

You were wearing your shirt from the day you arrived on the island, which was admittedly much thinner and a whole lot less sturdy than any of your clothes from here.

You wondered what it was like back home, if anyone was still looking for you. In a sort of unsure and roundabout way, you sort of hoped they were.

Anyhow, your best needlework was done the night before last, in an effort to help Hiccup out with one of his newer contraptions, some add-on or other to Toothless’ flying gear.

You’d spent that night trying to follow his instructions to the best of your abilities, kneeled on the floor beside him, but your work was still a measure more fragile than the quick and industrial tacking Hiccup was well-practiced in.

To your benefit, though, you were tracing out and stitching carefully measured pieces by candlelight. It was difficult to do in the dark, and you did your best to compensate by being overly cautious, though that also might have been a sort of burden.

Today, you had your first break in a long while. You got everything done in the morning and so for once, there were no chores for you to chase after or any deliveries to make. It was a little bit less awesome without a working internet connection, but it was what it was.

The last time you’d seen Hiccup, he looked so drowsy and frayed, you couldn’t help but to be reminded of one of those large posters of Albert Einstein you remembered from way back in one of your old middle school classes, with some crummy science encouragement joke pasted to the bottom in Comic Sans.

He’d spent a lot of late nights at the forge recently.

You also hadn’t seen for a while. Not since yesterday. No one else had, people were starting to talk about it, it was beginning to get late. You figured you might as well just give it a look around, though you also very much wanted to take a nice, long nap.

So here you were, marching around deep in the woods as the sun began to set, washing the world over in yellows and orange hues.

You yawned, feet crunching against dry leaves until you broke out into a clearing, which was a minor relief. You took the time to stretch and sigh before looking around.

It was a small clearing full of uneven lush grasses, one half sort of upturned and shaded, the other half occupied by a small lump in a green tunic, and a larger, darker black-navy one just behind the treeline with many different fins for different parts of his body.

Hiccup said it was to see if he could add to or maximize Toothless’ speed, or something. You thought that maybe he was just trying to look cooler or something, though by the end of it, you were sure that Toothless looked a lot more like a sailboat.

“Hiccup…?” You mumbled, tiptoeing quietly towards the green lump, mindful not to make much noise though you approached with the full intent to prod him awake.

His tunic wasn’t quite saturated or dark enough to blend him in with the grasses.

You touched his arm lightly with your hand form where he lay on his side, before pausing. He had been very tired recently. It would probably be wrong of you to prod him awake and make him hobble all the way back to the village.

“Rise and shine,” You mumbled, still patting on his arm. You stopped mid pat at one point, instead choosing to poke him with your finger.

Hiccup just sighed tiredly in his sleep, rolling over further into the grass. You were certain he wouldn’t be waking up soon. You weren’t even sure when the last he slept was, so he could very well be out until the next time the sun set.

You dropped your hands to your side as he drooled uncomfortably face-down into the dirt.

You blinked through drowsy eyes yourself, wondering if you might be able to wake him up for long enough to get a blanket underneath.

You hoped Hiccup would still be there by the time you got back. You hadn’t really stopped to tell anyone about him, though you weren’t in much of a rush. Maybe it was a consequence of your own fatigue, clouding your own line of vision. You hoped they weren’t too worried.

You stumbled in the complete darkness over sticks and rocks, shuffled back with the armful of blankets in your arms.

Living in the stables afforded you some privacy but also meant that your things got dirty quicker. Which meant you had to clean them a lot. And sometimes you didn’t. But you had very recently so these should have been fine, all the pisces taken straight from your own bed.

Admittedly you had a few more than what was standard, though you quite needed them for the extra cushioning and to compensate for the fact that you weren’t as accustomed to the cold climate, especially at night. It was rough out here. They were hard to come by though given you didn’t have much and blankets were much harder to make than in the future.

It wasn’t that bad today so you assumed you’d be fine without for the time being.

After a very long walk with many almost-trips, you broke back into the empty clearing. It was a bit hard to tell through all the bedding, but it was, disappointingly, empty.

You sighed painfully, resisting the urge to rub tired eyes. You wished you had taken a nap or something earlier, barely able to keep yourself up. You weren’t sure you could make the walk back at this point, honestly, even though that was the plan.

What you should have been planning, though, was how you were going to be able to get your blankets back after the fact.

Well, you still had your bedding.

You dropped it with a noise between a whine and a groan and sort of wormed your way into the pile, kicking out what you could and smoothing what you needed to so that you felt and had to deal with as little wrinkles as possible.

You let your eyes fall shut for the most of it, too tired to pull them apart, heavy and sticky with sleep. You only vaguely regretted that you were too tired to look up at the stars, as you had for many nights now through a hole in the roof of the stables just above your bed when the skies were clear.

You exhaled, letting the relieving embrace of sleep envelope you.

#long awaited #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #hiccup haddock #fanfiction #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

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galactic-magick · 2 years

Note

Can you please write about 001 reaction when Reader hugs him for the first time? Something like Peter tells them his life story and to his surprise they hug him instead of running away from him. Thanks. :)

This one I wrote as more of a short fic instead of headcanons, it seemed to flow better as a fic so hopefully you like!

Have a request? Read this!

Peter doesn't tell a lot of people about his past who doesn't already know.

Correction, he hasn't told anyone.

It's not that he believes what he did was wrong, but he realizes that his actions would be frowned upon by the majority of society, including you.

And he can't have that.

You're the one person in his life he doesn't ever want to disappoint. The one person he doesn't want to be afraid of him. So he hides, he lies, and refuses to tell you the real reason he's in this awful lab.

But you're smart enough to know something's going on, and as the two of you get closer, it becomes more apparent. He never talks about his family, where he came from, his life before working at the lab. You realize you know almost nothing about this man besides how he acts right now in the present.

You don't want to push him too hard, but your curiosity grows stronger when you overhear a conversation with him and Dr. Brenner.

"I've done everything you've asked of me, why won't you let me go and be free from this place?" you hear Peter demand.

"You're too unstable and dangerous to ever leave here. You'll continue to do as you're told and work with the children," Dr. Brenner replies. "You're lucky we even kept you alive after all you've done,"

"You are no better than the people out there, you understand that?" Peter's voice elevates. "Restricting the freedom of people who are different and powerful because you're afraid--terrified your system will come crumbling down like it deserves-"

You hear a loud thump. Did Brenner hit him?

"If you don't stay in your place, we will kill you, is that clear? We have enough other children now to compensate your loss,"

A brief silence.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Ballard. Tread carefully,"

You quickly run back down the hall so it doesn't look like you heard anything, but you weren't fast enough. Peter calls your name after you as he walks out the door.

“Hmm?” you smile.

“How much did you hear?”

You freeze, “Nothing. I mean, a little bit. I don’t know what you were talking about though. I won’t say anything-”

He closes the distance between you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m not mad at you for overhearing. It’s not like we were being quiet,”

“You’re not?”

“No,” he says with the sweetest smile. “Come on, I think it’s about time I explain everything to you,”

He takes your hand and leads you to his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed and look up at him with worry.

“Have you ever wondered what inspired this place? Why Dr. Brenner is so interested in children with powers?” he asks.

“Oh. Well, I guess so. I didn’t really know what I was signing up for when I was hired here, but I assumed I’m here to help gifted children learn how to use their abilities,”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he shakes his head. “All of these children’s powers had to be modeled after someone, someone who had these powers naturally,”

“What do you mean?”

He slowly lifts up his sleeve, displaying his “001″ tattoo.

“Holy shit...” you whisper.

“My mother had told him I was a strange and troubled child, although he didn’t know the true extent of my power, and neither did I,”

You listen intently without interruption as he tells you about his childhood, his frustration with the world, and how much he hated his family. He explains how he learned how to use his powers, and how he almost died using them to their full capacity when he murdered them. You learn about all Dr. Brenner has done to him since being here, abusing him and in turn abusing the other children with experiments and intense training in hopes the powers will be replicated. He explains how Dr. Brenner feared him enough that he put a power inhibitor in his neck, and is now forced to work as an orderly, trapped here forever.

There’s a bit of silence after that, and Peter starts to worry. Of course you’ll never want to be near him again after knowing everything. Pretty soon you’ll process everything you just heard and run away, terrified of the monster everybody else thinks he is.

He starts accepting it now, bracing himself for the inevitable terror that will erupt from you at any moment.

But he doesn’t read any terror in your face. None at all. Instead, he watches as you get up from your seat, step over to him and wrap your arms tightly around him.

Your warmth invades his body, his long-lost and frigid soul melting for the first time he can remember.

He slowly returns your embrace, holding you back as tight as you’re holding him.

“You’re not...afraid?” he asks.

“Never of you,” you shake your head, hugging him once again.

#peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #001 #peter ballard #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105 · 8 months

Text

Goodbye Sunflower

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

MasterList

Part 2

Keegan x Fem! Reader

TW-Death, Betrayal, Espionage, Angsty.

Song-On The Nature Of Daylight

Credit for dividers - @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Credits to creator of the gif name is below.

“No no no no stay with me!”

“Goddamn Kid Stay With Me!”

“Sunflower!!!”

“Wake Up!!”

“I’m so sorry!”

“Sunflower Goddamn It Wake Up!”

“We have plans! I still want them!!!”

“Don’t leave me!!!”

“Keegan Wake Up Brother Wake Up!!!”

The sounds of Keegan panting and hyperventilating as his brothers in arms try to wake him.

Hesh and Logan in their boxers standing beside his bed shaking him awake from his nightmare. This has been happening on and off since she left over two and a half months ago.

Watching Keegan fall apart tore the team apart. She was his everything. But she was gone.

His stifled sobs. He covered his eyes wiping away his tears not wanting to open them. Because in this reality she didn’t exist anymore. She was lost to wind. Deprived of her warm embrace.

The memories came rushing back to him. 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

(Y/H/C) -your hair color

The way (y/n) laid in his bed naked under the soft white sheets giggling. Her beautiful (y/h/c) locks spread out on the pillows. The way she smiled to him. The small yelps that escaped her lips when Keegan tickled her.

When she would pull the sheets off the bed to wrap herself up in them leaving Keegan naked on the bed sleeping. Pinching his bare ass she run off to the bathroom to hide when he jump up annoyed with her shenanigans. Whenever Keegan took too long in the shower she find a way to shut off the hot water. Standing outside in the bedroom she laugh her ass off with Hesh and Logan. Just seeing Keegan run out of the shower with a towel on was a sight to see. She loved to pick on him when he lease expected it.

Especially in the mess hall when she would steal his food off his tray and hide it from him. She knew all of his weaknesses and where he was ticklish. The strong stoic face never fazed her. In her mind Keegan Russ was a beautiful soul and a wonderful person even if he didn’t he think he was capable of love or not worthy.

When the seasons changed he always found himself in front of the flower shops looking for sunflowers. They were her favorites.

He always loved buying her the real thing. When they weren’t in season he always go out of his way to find a suitable substitute for her.

The way her smile would light up a room. The way her laugh warmed his cold heart. The sweet kisses she planted on his scars and his aching body. Her kisses were a drug in the beginning but as time went on they became his medicine for his aching body.

Her soft feathery warm touches healed his aching bones. The feeling of her breast in his large calloused hands was all he needed to make him melt. Gripping her ass as he carried her to their bedroom, feeling her legs wrap around him was all he needed in this life. Her warm embrace on him. The soft sweet moans and gasp that escaped her beautiful lips made all his worries disappear.

Keegan always wanted her near him or to be inside her. She was all he needed. Wrapping his arms around her waist when he would return from his deployment. The way she hug him as they laid side by side in bed.

The promises they made to each. That lingered in his mind.

“Sunflower when our contracts are done. I’m gonna take you away from here and marry you. I want to have a life with you. To call you Mrs Keegan Russ.”

“How does that sound Sunflower?”

“To be called Mrs. Keegan Russ hmmm. I love it! I want a small cottage near the mountains and a small garden. With maybe some ducks.”

“Really kid, you want ducks.”

“Yes! Oh stop being mean to me!”

“Sunflower you can have anything you want. But baby look at me. I love you no matter what, I’ll always be here for you when you need me. I will never leave you alone or put you in danger. Ever. Trust me sunflower.”

“Mr. So Serious you’re such a goofball. But I love you and I know you would never put me in harms way. And I know you always be there for me.”

“I trust you with all my heart”

Those words haunted his memories and dreams

His sunflower.

Lost

Two Months Ago

“Keegan he have proof that she’s the mole here. I’m sorry but she’s in our custody. We waited to tell you. She’s been detained and she’s currently being interrogated and her belongs and all her assets have been confiscated. While you were away we had to keep you under surveillance and we did investigate your background and your belongings but we came up empty on your end. But (y/n) she has a lot of incriminating evidence against her. She currently is denying her involvement with the recent attacks and bombings.”

“Can I see her? Can I talk to her please!”

“Negative. You are to be under surveillance and to not leave base until our investigation is finished.”

Keegan slammed his fist into the table. Glaring at his superiors walking away fuming with anger. This didn’t all add up. His sunflower wasn’t a spy. He spent every waking moment with her. She was always with him.

“Russ! Don’t do anything stupid or anything that you’re gonna regret!”

“With all due respect Captain.”

“Fuck You! My Sunflower is innocent! I will prove her innocence myself!”

“I promised I will protect her!”

He opened the door and slammed it behind him. Fuming with anger he passed by all the soldiers and his friends and teammates. They all heard the news. Just seeing Keegan fuming with anger they all steered clear of him.

Walking back to his room. Opening his door their room was tore apart. Clothes and pictures and her small trinkets and ceramic decorations were scattered and broken on the ground. Keegan kneeled down picking up the photo of them. The way she smiled in the photo. His arm wrapped around her waist. They had made love a few hours after that photo was taken. Keegan picked up all their clothes and pictures off the ground. Picking up all the broken pieces of her ceramic birds he placed them in a box to glue together later.

Keegan had a feeling nothing about the evidence they had added all up. They had pictures of her meeting different people in public places. Large amounts of money being stored away and her visiting the hospital. The same hospital that was bombed that killed hundreds of people.

The large transactions and transfers to oversea bank accounts were all suspicious.

They all made her guilty. But his sunflower would never put him or his team in danger. She always said how the guys were her family. She didn’t have family around anymore. Her father and mother died when she was young and she was an only child.

Keegan decided to do his own investigation.

Two weeks had gone by and he was pulling up no evidence linking her to any crimes. All while Keegan was doing his investigation. His sunflower was locked away in a black listed area. She was tortured day in and day out. She cried and screamed for Keegan to come save her. But her pleas went unanswered. She sobbed every night looking up at the skylight hoping that Keegan will burst through the metal door. Taking her away from this hell she was stuck in.

“Who is your contact? Where are the others? Answer me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! My n n name is Sergeant (y/l/n)….. i i i I’m part of the ghost team with k k k Keegan Russ he can prove mm m m my innocents.”

She stuttered with pain laced in her voice. Trembling as the masked men who were interrogating her held a blow torch to her legs. Her fingers bleed so much that it went numb. She didn’t feel anymore pain physically but her heart was shattered. Her mind broken. She pleaded to her captors. Begging for Keegan.

“Please!”

Keegan found out why she was constantly going to the hospital. She was with child. His child. His sunflower was pregnant. The mysterious transactions were kept under the wraps because she had recently bought a small cottage near the mountains in Switzerland. She was storing money away and keeping this a secret from him.

After finding this out he approached his superiors office with evidence in hand. When opening the door he saw his Captain and Lieutenant dead with a single gunshot wound to the head.

Running out and sounding the alarm off the real mole had been on the board that arrested his sunflower. His general was responsible for this espionage. The real spy was his General and he was still on base and Keegan had to find him.

Hesh, Logan, Merrick all armed to the teeth on the hunt for the General.

Going on a chase off base they followed their General to an abandoned building. Chasing him they chased him to a abandoned building with a bunker attached to it, they chased him down inside. Keegan and Merrick on their way. Keegan constantly fidgeted his trigger finger. Thinking only about her. He had to find her and the only person who knew was his General.

Upon entering they found their General trying to make a call. But to their surprise they found why he was there. To finish off loose ends.

Logan gasped he choked on his words. Stuttering and pointing to the person tied to the chair.

Hesh and Logan found his sunflower she sat in a abandoned building. Logan detained the general keeping him alive. After having to beat the living shit out of him.

Hesh sighed and with a heavy heart he held back his tears.

“Keegan do you copy?”

“It’s Sunflower”

“I’m on my way”

Hesh looked away rushing to her side he clipped the zip ties off her wrist and ankles. Holding her gently laying her down he held back a stifled sob.

“(Y/N) its Hesh, Keegan is on his way hold on we’re get you help. Hold on.”

Swallowing thickly she opened her swollen eyes with a smile. She couldn’t speak properly her lips busted and swollen she licked her lips. Her breathing started to become more shallow and her lungs wheezed for air. She didn’t feel any pain anymore. Just cold.

Keegan rushed in dropping his gun he rushed to her. Cradling her beaten and broken body in his arms. Her blood seeped through his tactical vest and onto his clothes. Brushing the stray hairs from her swollen face. He pulled his mask off trying to wipe the blood from her face.

“No no no no stay with me!”

“Goddamn Kid Stay With Me!”

“Sunflower!”

“Wake Up”

“I’m so sorry!”

“Sunflower! Goddamn It! Wake Up!”

“We have plans I still want them!!!”

“Don’t leave me!!!”

“Keegan baby is that you?”

“Yes it’s me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. I promised you I would and I failed”

“Don’t be sorry my love. You’re here now”

She swallowed thickly her voice scratchy and low she spoke again. Tears fell from the corners of her swollen eyes.

“I wanted to surprise you but I couldn’t keep our sea monkey. I lost them. I didn’t want to tell you I’m so sorry”

“I bought us a house”

“I wanted to surprise you”

“Baby look at me I’m not mad and we can try again we can try again. We can have as many sea monkeys as you want. I know you always talked about having a family. And I want that too. Stay with me please. I don’t know what to do without you please stay with me.”

“I can’t do this without you”

“I’ll always be here. Looks to the east. I’ll always kiss your face good-morning and look the west I’ll always kiss you goodnight”

“You always have a piece of me in you Mr. So Serious.”

Gasping and crying she tried to laugh. But her laughs were caught in her throat causing her to cough.

“Hesh were is the medics! Goddamn it!”

“Their 5 mins out!”

“She’s dying!”

Keegan held onto her picking her up off the dirty ground he rushed her outside to run towards the medic. Holding her tightly against him. His lungs burned but he ran and ran meeting them half way they took her from him.

“Is she gonna make it!”

“Goddamn it someone answer me!”

Hesh, Logan and Merrick all drove over to where Keegan stood. Hesh ran out to Keegan holding him back as he fought to be beside her. She closed her eyes and she had stopped breathing. They pulled out their defibrillators ripping her shirt open she laid there lifeless. Keegan fought as Hesh held him back.

“Hesh get off me!”

“Goddamn It Hesh!!!”

“Keegan stop it! Let them save her!!”

“Baby!!!”

“Sunflower!!!”

“Wake up don’t leave me!!! Don’t leave me!!”

“I can’t do this without you!”

Keegan kicked and punched Hesh trying to break free from his hold. Logan rushed over wrestling Keegan to the ground while he cried helplessly. Watching his sunflower wilt away. He never felt more helpless in his life. As the sunset his life came crumbling down on him.

He screamed to the sky holding his face.

The sounds of her flatlining echoed all around him.

“No!”

“Sunflower!!!!”

“Sunflower!!!”

“Baby wake up!!”

“Don’t leave me!!!”

Keegan’s face was covered in tears and his nose runny from all the tears. His face covered in dirt. He tried to crawl to her to hold her hand to feel her warmth again.

Keegan sat up in his bed rubbing his tired eyes. Hesh sat beside him patting his back Logan paced back and forth sobbing. Merrick sat in the medical wing on guard duty. He watched over Sunflower. She laid in the ICU hooked up to all the life support machines. The ventilator helping her breath. She went to sleep and never woke up. She’s been in a coma two months and counting. Keegan stayed with her day in and day out watching her. Merrick convinced him to get some sleep and that he would watch over his sunflower.

Keegan wanted her room to have a large window the faced the east and a room across that had a window that could allow the sunset illuminate her room.

Merrick had no more tears to shed. She had broken all of their hearts. Keegan heart was shattered and he was torn apart inside and out.

The Next Morning

“Keegan Russ”

He sat beside her bed holding her hands. Rubbing her knuckles softly. Watching and listening to sounds of the ventilator breathing for her.

“Doctor”

With a clipboard in hand the doctor clicked his pen. And sighed heavily.

“Mr. Russ she has you listed to make her medical decisions and keeping her on life support isn’t helping. The amount of extensive injuries she sustained she isn’t gonna pull through. She did however listed that if she were to ever go into a vegetative state that she didn’t want to be held onto life support. She wants to be taken off.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Russ it’s in her medical will.”

Eyes red and swollen he couldn’t shed anymore tears. Looking at her beautiful face. The stitches and bandages that covered her face the lips that held the most beautiful smile her laugh that made his worries all disappear and her warm touch that healed his aching, broken body. All of this will be gone with a pull of a switch.

“If that’s what she wants then…….I will always love you my Sunflower”

The doctor walked over and sighed and flipped all the switches off and he left Keegan alone. The beeping sounds of her heart monitor kept beeping. Keegan closed his eyes.

Waiting for her the monitor to flatline once again.

“Doctor!”

The sound of the nurse running out of the room. Keegan looked up to see that his Sunflower was breathing on her own and her heart beating strong on its own. But her fingers twitched in his grasp.

“Sunflower baby stay with me. I’m right here. You’re strong pull through for me baby. I’m right here I never left your side.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“You’re my wildflower”

“Come back to me”

#keegan russ one shot #keegan russ x reader #Keegan Russ angsty #keegan russ fanfic #keegan russ #cod keegan #cod fanfiction #cod keegan russ #keegan p russ x reader #call of duty keegan

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love2write2626 · 5 months

Text

The Producer This story is from my one-shot collection which is a spin off of the “I Wouldn’t be Complete Without You” 4 part series, you can find that series along with the one shots, and all my other TC stories on my Masterlist hope you enjoy

Y/N’s P.O.V

I walked around set looking for Tom, since he is a producer now they always have him all over set discussing things and sometimes he can be very hard to track down. As I was walking I bumped into someone and dropped my phone, and binder

“Oh, shit I’m so sorry” the man said

“No, it’s ok I’m a klutz by nature it was probably my fault” I said, as I picked up my stuff and stood up I made eye contact with the man, and was in awe at how good looking he is.

“Hey, you’re Tom’s assistant right?” It took me a minute to gather words… so pathetic

“Um, yes. Sorry I have a million things on my mind. Yes I am Tom’s assistant, My name is Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Chris Hall”

“Oh! Mr. Hall” I said. Chris isn’t a producer on the film but he works for the production company. The company is giving a huge amount of money towards this film. “I’ve heard Tom talk about you…”

“Yes, I work for the division of the company which deals with statistics and all that boring stuff” he said with a chuckle

“Well, I wouldn’t say boring. I mean you help the big wigs decide if a movie is worth producing” he stared at each other for a few seconds and then his phone rang

“Oh, sorry. I have to take this. It was very nice meeting you Y/N” he said walking off

“Well, well do my eyes deceive me… or did Y/N meet a man she likes” Katie said walking over to me with a bright smile

“Katie, don’t start” I said

“Y/N, you are a funny, smart, beautiful woman who deserves to be an a loving relationship. He is a good-looking guy” she said “I think he likes you”

“How can he like me, Katie? We just met two minutes ago” I sighed “plus I’m way to busy to date anyone”

“No, no that’s not true, and you know it! You should ask him out” she said

“What?!” Absolutely not!” I exclaimed

“Hey ladies” I heard Tom’s voice, he walked over and kissed Katie “What are you talking about… and why is Y/N as red as a tomato?”

“She likes Chris” Katie said with a smirk

“I do not! I haven’t even said more than two sentences to the guy” I said “Look, Katie I appreciate you trying to help me… but I just I’m not interested… not right now anyway” I looked over at Tom “C’mon I have to talk to you about a million things” I said pulling him away

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A few hours later, I am sitting in my room taking my shoes off when my door swings open. Katie walks in, and closes it quickly and practically throws a box at me.

“Katie, what the hell?”

“Get, showered and put that on! You’re going on a date with Chris tonight”

“What!?” I asked

“Before you accuse me of setting you up… he came over and talked to me. Asked if you were seeing anyone.”

“Katie” I sighed

“Y/N, you are always there to help everyone else. It’s your turn to go and have fun. Chris likes you… and maybe I shouldn’t have done the whole blind date thing… but you wouldn’t have gone for it if I didn’t”

“I know you’re trying to help”

“Y/N, you are my friend! You are completely over worked go out with him! What’s the worse that happens? You don’t like him, and don’t go another date?”

“Usually your logic would make sense… but he is still going to be on set everyday, if I don’t like him it will be super weird”

“It’s only weird if you make It weird” she said “Please, go and have fun”

“He is really good looking” she smiled brightly

“That’s it girl, get ready” she said running out of the room.

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I walked into the restaurant looking for Chris and I found him quickly, he was looking at the menu, and drinking some wine. He looked up and when we locked eyes he looked at me like nothing else existed.

“Hey” He said when I walked over, he got up and pulled my chair out for me before pushing me back in

“Hi, thank you” I said

“You look beautiful” he said, I know I’m blushing like an idiot

“Thank you. You look very handsome” I said

“Oh, I ordered some wine… I hope you like red”

“Red is my favorite” I said taking a sip “I’ve never been here before”

“Really? You’re going to love it. I like to come here often… and well most of the time it’s take out I’m always too busy to sit down and eat.” He smirked “but I had to make time for you”

“Ok, you really have to stop. I haven’t even been here 10 minutes and I’ve blushed way too many times” I giggled

“I can’t help it. I think you’re beautiful… and if we’re being honest… I may have bumped into you on purpose” I looked at him confused “This going to sound creepy… but its in a non-creepy way… I’ve been watching you” I raised an eyebrow “I said it was going to sound creepy… but I thought you were absolutely beautiful the moment I saw you” I tried to hide my blush and looked at the menu

“So Chris what’s good here?” I asked

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“You were right the food was amazing” I said giggling

“Not, as amazing as the company” he said

“Yeah, I have to admit your company was pretty great too” I said “This is me” I said when we walked over to my car

“Good enough for a second date?” he asked

“Yeah, I think I would like that” I said, he smiled brightly and I stood on my tippy toes to give him a hug and when we pulled apart we stared at each other

“I really want to kiss you” he mumbled, I decided to be bold for once

“What’s stopping you?” I asked, he smiled and leaned down for a kiss. The kiss is really nice… that’s a lie it was better than nice. This man really knows what he is doing. When we broke apart I said “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow” he said

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When I walked inside the house I was bombarded by Katie and Tom

“Why are you both still awake?” I asked

“Mr. Grumpy pants here refused to sleep until you got back… and well I had to know how I went” she asked

“It went great” I said, she smiled brightly

“Really?” she asked

“Yeah, we kissed”

“He, kissed you?” Tom asked shocked

“Yeah”

“That’s ridiculous you went out on one date… hell you only spoke for the first time today! He’s kissing you?”

“Zip it” Katie said “How was it?”

“Really good” she walked over and hugged me

“Thank you Katie”

“I’m so excited… now I am exhausted and going to bed” she said turning around and I couldn’t help but laugh. I looked over at Tom

“Are you mad?” I asked, his eyes softened

“Of course not. I just worry about you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you ever” I walked over and hugged him

“I know you won’t let anyone hurt me Tommy” I said and he groaned

“I hope you know, you’re the only one who gets away with calling me that” I rolled my eyes

“Good night” I said

“Night” he mumbled

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One date turned to two which quickly turned to 5 and then I lost count. Chris is an amazing guy, super smart, funny, and handsome. We were always together on set, and I could tell it was irritating Tom

“Y/N, I hate to be an asshole…”

“No you don’t” I giggled

“But you are here as my assistant you talk to your boyfriend later” I sighed knowing he is right

“See you later Chris” I said

“My place tonight?” he asked

“I’ll be there” I said

“So you guys are getting serious?” Tom asked

“I wouldn’t say serious yet… but I think its headed in that direction” I said biting my lip

“Look, I know you’re tired of hearing me say be careful… but be careful. There’s something about him that seems a little off” I rolled my eyes “Promise me, you’ll be careful… and if he treats you with the slightest disrespect you’ll drop him on his ass” I giggled

“Ok, Tom” I leaned up and kissed his cheek “Oh shit, I forgot to as Chris what to bring for dinner tonight… I’ll be right back” I ran back over and I saw Chris was already looking at me “Hey…”

“You kiss him?” he asked, I looked at him confused

“I always kiss him on the cheek, and he kisses me on the cheek. We’ve been doing that for years. I told you we’ve known each other since High School”

“His wife doesn’t mind?” he asked

“No, because she knows theres nothing going on between us”

“Interesting” he mumbled, and I smiled brightly

“Are you jealous?” I asked

“Maybe…” I leaned up and kissed his lips

“You have no reason to be, there never has been and never will be anything between Tom and I”

“Ok” he smiled

“What do you want me to bring tonight?” I asked

“Just your gorgeous self, and I’m going to make dinner for you”

“Ok, see you tonight”

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Even though he told me not to bring anything, I still bought some cookies… just because I felt weird coming over empty handed. I headed towards the elevators, and saw the doors about to close so I ran

“Wait hold the door” I said, I made it just before it closed and part of me wished I hadn’t. In the elevator I saw Chris making out with some blonde “I guess I got here too early, huh?” I said throwing the cookies in the trash can next to the elevators and started walking away

“Y/N, Wait!” he yelled as I walked out of the building. Fuck, I feel like such an idiot. “Y/N wait a damn second”

“What?” I asked angrily

“Look, I didn’t kiss her she kissed me… she’s my ex and she wanted to get back together but I told her I was seeing someone”

“You really seemed to want her to stop” I said angrily

“You’re being such a hypocritical”

“What?”

“You’re allowed to kiss Tom but I can’t…”

“Woah slow your roll. I kiss Tom on the cheek. I don’t make out with him” I sighed “look, I was blinded by how good looking you are. You’re just like every other guy… and I’m glad it didn’t get too serious… because I can’t stand getting my heart broken” I started to walk away but he grabbed me and tugged me hard

“You get back here”

“Ow, Chris you’re hurting me”

“You are a hot piece of ass, and dating you means I have Tom in my back pocket. Tom would do anything for you” I wanted to cry

“So that’s why you asked me out?” I tried to tug away, but then he slapped me across the face and I gasped in shock

“You asshole. I’m leaving”

“No, you’re not! You are not allowed to leave this relationship till I say it’s over”

“You can’t force me to stay with you” I said

“Oh, yes I can. If you break it off, or tell anyone I hit you I’ll have the production company pull their funds”

“That’s an empty threat, you cant make the CEO just pull funds. You have no controlling interest” he smirked

“Oh, but I do, I’m the one they go to every month to make sure this is still a good project to be apart of.” I went wide eyed “Yeah, you know I’m right” he said, he let go of me. “Go, back to his house for the night, and don’t say a damn word” he said walking away

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When I got home, I walked in slouching a little

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tom asked

“Nothing… Chis and I got into a small argument and I just… I’m tired I’m going to bed” I mumbled

“Are you sure you’re ok” he asked

“Tom thank you for worrying about me… but I promise I’m fine”

“Ok, sweetie. Good night” I feel horrible lying to him, I know all he wants to do is protect me

“Good night”

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5 months it’s been 5 months since I started dating Chris, and 5 months since I lost every ounce of happiness in me. Chris has taken all of it. I have to constantly hide bruises, with makeup so Katie and Tom don’t suspect anything. Chris is treating me like a rag doll, I refuse to have sex with him and when I do he hits me harder… but surprisingly never forces me to have sex

I walk into his apartment after a very long day on set, and he’s sitting on the couch watching some TV

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“On, set. You know that Tom works much longer hours than you do and…” he walked over and smacked me across the face

“Watch you’re tone with me” I looked at the ground

“Sorry” he smirked

“That’s better now… what do you say we go to the bedroom and”

“No!”

“I told you I’m not ready” he smacked me again “I’m not stupid I know you’ve been having sex with your ex… just go date her and leave me alone” he grabbed me and yanked into the bedroom, throwing me on the bed. As he tried to crawl on me I kicked him hard and tried to run away but he grabbed my leg causing me to trip

“You thought you were so smart, huh” he picked me up like a rag doll and then punched me square in the eye, I screamed in pain

“That hurt, huh?” he said with a smirk, the sick bastard is enjoying this

“Next time you say no to me remember that” he said before walking away

It took me 10 minutes to find the strength to walk again, and I walked over to the mirror and gasped, my lip has a nasty gash in it and there is already a bruise forming around my eye. Fuck how am I going to hide this.

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The next morning I stayed in bed. I knew there was no way in hiding this forever… but I can delay it.

“Y/N?” Tom said walking in I quickly pulled the covers over my head “Hey, sleepy head are you feeling ok?” I wanted to throw myself in his arms and tell him everything. I can’t this movie is too big… I can’t ruin it for him. I let out a fake cough

“I’m sick” I said

“Do you have a fever?” he tried to touch my head

“Yes” I said quickly “If it’s ok with you… I’m going to stay home today” I mumbled

“Of course sweetie… if you ever need a break just let me know… I’m sorry if I overworked you”

“No, no Tommy” I said trying not to cry “Never, I just have a cold that’s all… I’ll be as good as new tomorrow”

“Ok, sweetie you get some rest” he said before walking out

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Not even 10 minutes later there was a knock on my door, and I heard Katie walk in

“Hey, Y/N? How are you feeling?” she asked

“Sick” I lied quickly, she sighed

“Tom, knows you’re lying. We’re actors we know a fake cough when we hear it… He sent me to check on you. I’ve been delaying it… but he’s noticing something has changed about. You’re not as happy anymore…”

“What am I supposed to do Katie? Show him this?” I asked sitting up and she gasped

“Y/N, what happened?” she asked “did Chris do this” I didn’t say anything “How long?” she asked

“Not even a few weeks after we started dating”

“Why, the fuck didn’t you leave him?” She asked

“He threatened to make sure that…”

“Hey, Y/N I know you’re not feeling well but do you know where my…” Tom walked in and when he made eye contact with me I saw pure rage enter his face “What happened?” he asked “Did that bastard hurt you?” I again said nothing “That, fucker.” Tom stormed out of the room and I quickly followed

“Tom… please don’t do something stupid”

“I’m firing that bastard ASAP”

“Tom, you can’t he told me if I told you he would make sure that he gave fake statistics to the board so they would pull their funds from the movie”

“Is that why you stayed with him?” he asked, I didn’t say anything I just started crying and slid down the wall I was leaning against

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” I said, Tom got on his knees in front of me and pulled me gently into his arms

“This is not your fault, he is a bastard and he is going to pay for this”

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Tom’s P.O.V

Pure rage is running through my veins, but at the current moment the only thing I feel is stupidity. I knew there was something wrong with her, the light in her eyes had faded but Y/N made me believe she was happy… and that’s all I wanted for her. I kissed the top of her head a couple of times. I looked up at Katie who has tears in her eyes

“Will you take her upstairs and see if she can get some sleep?” Katie nodded

“C’mon honey” Katie said helping her up

“Tom please be careful” she mumbled, before letting Katie walk her upstairs.

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It didn’t take long to get to the production company, I stormed in walking past security and straight into the CEO’s office. Not caring if he was in a meeting or not. He is on the phone and he looks up at me shocked

“Mr. Cruise?” he asked confused

“We need to talk now!” I said

“Of course, come in” he walked over and closed the door “What seems to be the…”

“You need to fire Chris Hall right now” I said, and he chuckled

“He’s one of our best employees I can’t fire him without cause” I pulled my phone and out and showed him the pictures I had Katie send me of Y/N

“He is a women beater”

“You’re sure he did this?” he asked

“He has been dating my assistant for the last 5 months… I have known Y/N for a very, very long time. I knew that something had changed, but I didn’t know what, and this morning I see this… he has been beating her and the reason she said nothing was because he threatened to show you and the board fake statistics so you would pull funds from my movie” He looked horrified

“Holly, call Mr. Hall into my office right now” he said on the speaker “Tom, I have to apologize I had no idea…”

“I’m not blaming you… and please don’t blame me for what happens when that bastard walks into this office”

“I want you to know we see so much potential in this film even without his statistics… we would have never pulled funds” I sighed if only Y/N had known that

“Hey, you wanted to see me?” Chris said when he walked in, I turned around and gave him a fake smile

“Actually it’s me who wanted to see you” I said walking over to him

“What can I do for you…” he asked

“I just wanted to give you something”

“What?” he asked confused

“Nothing much just this” I said before punching square in the face

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he asked

“How do you like it, you fucker. I should do so much worse… you are a sick bastard and I hope you rot in hell for what you did to Y/N”

“I didn’t…”

“Save it! I showed him the proof already and I told him everything…”

“That fucking bitch” he said, and I lost my cool again, and punched him square in the nose “You bastard I’m going sue you for everything you own”

“I’d like to see you try” I said

“I have a witness, and camara’s int his office show you attacking me”

“Mr. Hall, I know 3 things in this moment” The CEO said “One I have 3 daughters and the thought of anybody doing this to them is sickening… so you could say I saw nothing. Two wouldn’t you know it… it’s a shame the camara’s aren’t in service right now… and three You’re fired”

“You’re going to regret this Cruise” he said before walking out

“Thank you” I said to the CEO before I also walked out

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When I walked inside I saw Y/N sitting on the couch watching TV, I walked over and sat next to her and let her snuggle into me

“I’m sorry” she mumbled

“You have nothing to apologize for”

“I should have told you… I just know how important this project is”

“Y/N, look at me. If you had told me, I would have dealt with it… and if they had pulled their funds I would use every dollar of my own money to keep the movie afloat… you should know I would rather go broke then let anything ever happen to you” she smiled, but still had tears in her eyes

“So you got him fired?” she asked

“After I punched him in the eye and broke his nose” she giggled “I also made sure he will never get another job again” she snuggled back into me

“Thank you for protecting me” she mumbled

“Always, I’ll always be here to protect you” it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, I picked her up and took her upstairs to her room, gently put her under the covers and kissed her head. “I love you, always have and always will” I said before walking out wishing I could say that to her when she is awake… but that will never happen.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise #tom cruise movies #tom cruise running #top gun 1986 #mission impossible

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dyrewrites · 6 months

Text

Mr. Friendly - today's words (660)

Maisy woke to the sweet scent of slightly burnt pancakes and sat up in the hopes that the smell of bacon would be joining it. It did, and that slightly burnt smell clung to it too.

Papa’s cooking, she realized and then another thought came, Papa’s weekend!

And the excited bubble of more time with both her fathers urged her quicker from the covers...only to stop at her closet, where the shadows were looming thicker, darker.

“...Mr. Shadow?” she asked that darkness.

The darkness blinked, its pale yellow eyes bobbing like fireflies trapped in a pitch black blanket, and Maisy yelped. It wasn’t very loud, and she clapped her hand right over it after, but she just couldn’t help it, how could anyone help it!

But when the eyes drooped, sliding down and away from her, she regretted it all the same, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, it’s okay, don’t be sad.”

Though Maisy had done her best to keep the yelp quiet, it was still heard and before the shadow could wriggle its response it sunk deeper into the closet.

Daddy was at the bedroom door, leaning on the frame, “You alright, pumpkin?”

“You scared him!” She shouted with a stomp and glare.

And Daddy backed from the frame, and the door, with his arms up, “Whoa, scared who?”

“Mr. Shadow, of course,” Maisy snapped before she stomped past him and out of her room, “and now he’s hiding.”

“Well, hey, hold up a minute,” Daddy knelt to catch her and swung her up in his arms, holding her on his hip as she pouted, “you’ve seen him a few times since we moved in, right?” She nodded, refusing to look at him, “and you found that sketchbook that proves he’s been here a while?” Another tight nod, “Then he’s probably not going anywhere.”

Maisy wiggled her pout around a bit before she let it spread to a smile, then she kissed Daddy’s cheek and wriggled until he put her down. “Is there bacon?” She called to Papa as she ran to the kitchen.

Daddy watched her run down the hall and down the stairs, but he didn’t follow, instead he looked into her room. The closet doors hung, wider than needed, propped open by two of Maisy’s especially large stuffed bears. But it was what hung inside it that he stared at, that he studied. Just on the edge of the doors’ opening, in a space that should have been emptied and colored by the warm morning light from the window beside it...were shadows. Deep, dark shadows with two small, pale lights floating in them and watching him as intently as any eyes.

“If you’re real, and not just her imagination, or a trick of the light,” Daddy said as he walked into the room, sure to keep a few steps distance from the closet and, as he slid the curtains on the window closed, he looked directly at the shadow and added, “I really hope you’re as friendly as she thinks you are...”

Then he smiled, nodded to the closet and left the room, careful to push the door a little more open. The shadow rippled and stretched further into the room as Daddy’s steps faded. He blinked his eyes at the closed curtains, stared at them, then at the bedroom door before he slid to peer out of it.

Shadows filled the hall outside, thinner than he but still dark enough to touch, to slip through. Daddy had not only closed the bedroom curtain, but all of the curtains and not a ray of sunlight shone through any of the upstairs windows. The shadow could leave the room if he wanted to, he could wander the hall without fear of being seared or thinned. He could even, perhaps, if he felt especially brave...join the family at breakfast.

He rippled again then, swelling with confused and alien emotions, did he make it dark on purpose...for me?

#writeblr #snippet #novel #writing #mr. friendly #writing this has been so difficult #i have no idea what voice this is #or if it works for the story #but it's okay because first drafts are meant to suck #i will work it out later #nanowrimo

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ziltoidcoffee · 2 years

Note

Jealous Terry is indeed a concept, but! How about jealous Daniel? He'd probably feel insecure sometimes about not coming from money like Terry does, maybe worries that Terry will get bored with him. Every time he sees some debutante try to flirt with Terry at a party, he sees red just a little bit and has to remind everyone there that Terry belongs to him as much as he belongs to Terry.

(Anon, I love jealous Daniel too. It’s essentially canon! Remember when Ali said he was jealous? LMFAO Her loss! I love this idea and came up with something below. Imagined this a few years after KK3. Hope you enjoy it!)

Daniel hates these corporate parties.

From the extravagant decor to the top-quality horderves and champagne, everything is generally tolerable, sometimes even enjoyable. Or it would be if it weren’t for Terry’s determination to entertain and satisfy every single guest.

Daniel knows he shouldn’t protest. As CEO of Dynatox, Terry is the face of his company. They’re only able to live a life of luxury due to his years of hard work. But Daniel wouldn’t care if Terry went bankrupt tomorrow. He’s not with the older man for his money. Terry has many charming qualities, and Daniel didn’t even know Terry was rich until he was already in love with him. So it shouldn’t be surprising that Daniel isn’t the only one enamored by him.

But it doesn’t make watching every woman at the party practically throw themselves at Terry all night any easier. They’re all hoping for a chance to become Mrs. Silver, and since Daniel’s only attending as Terry's close friend and student, these women have no idea that post is already taken. Daniel understands Terry’s hesitancy to tell anyone. Even though it’s the ‘80s, certain people are still uncomfortable with the idea of two men dating. Plus, Daniel doesn’t really want that attention. Though he would love throwing his drink in their faces instead of watching them across the hall while he works on his second glass of the night.

Daniel can only take this for so long. He reaches for another drink when his gaze catches on Terry speaking with a female employee he recognizes as the receptionist. She laughs at something he says and runs her fingers down his arm, fluttering her eyes at him. Terry smiles back at her and doesn’t remove her hand. That’s all Daniel can handle tonight.

His feet are moving almost of their own accord, striding across the banquet hall to approach the woman from behind. Terry meets his eyes briefly before Daniel taps her shoulder, and she spins around instantly to gape at him. “Excuse me,” Daniel says through gritted teeth, and he can see Terry smirking in his peripheral vision. “I don’t mean to interrupt. But I need to speak with Terry.”

She pushes her hair off her shoulder and scoffs. “We’re in the middle of—”

“It’s fine, Elizabeth,” Terry interrupts, gripping her shoulder, and he’s smiling when she looks back at him. “It must be important.”

“It is,” Daniel growls, his hands clenching at his sides.

Elizabeth nods at them. “Well, don’t be too long, Mr. Silver,” she says then takes a swig of her champagne.

Terry says nothing, and Daniel wants to punch them both in the face. But instead, he grabs his boyfriend by the wrist in a bruising grip and ushers him into the hallway, ignoring the staring party goers. When they reach the end of the hall near the coat room, he does a double-take to make sure no one is around and turns back to push Terry against the wall.

Despite his superior strength, Terry lets him and grins while Daniel frowns. “What’s wrong, Danny?” he asks in faux innocence.

Daniel crowds him against the wall, shoulders tense in frustration. “That girl—she kept touching you,” he hisses, poking him in the chest. “And you just let her! You've been letting them all night!”

His boyfriend’s smile goes wider. “Oh, Danny,” he drawls in the back of his throat. “They're nothing to me. You know that.” His hand lifts to grab him by the jaw, and Daniel jerks his face away, still angry with him.

“I can’t stand it,” he whispers, refusing to meet his eyes. His own are burning at the corners, vision starting to go hazy. "I hate watching them all over you and not being able to do anything about it."

“Daniel,” Terry snaps, taking Daniel’s chin between his fingers. He squeezes and turns his head to force their eyes to meet. Unlike his earlier amused expression, his lips are turned down in a serious frown. “Do you want me to tell them?” he asks.

At first, Daniel says nothing, trying to decide what Terry means. Then the weight of his question hits him, and he has to swallow while he fights his way towards coherence. When he drags his voice free from his chest, his words are raw and raspy. “Yes,” he says. “I want them to know you’re mine.”

Terry’s eyebrows go up. “Are you certain, sweetheart?” he asks, and his fingers release his jaw to brace the back of Daniel’s head. “That may come with some unwanted attention.”

Daniel's hand comes up to clutch at the front of Terry’s tux, pulling at the fabric to bring him closer until they’re only inches apart. “I don’t care,” he declares. “They should know you belong to me."

Then he tilts his head up and cants forward to crush their mouths together.

Terry doesn’t even flinch and smiles into the kiss. When they return to the banquet hall after a long makeout session, Daniel enters holding his hand, and Terry introduces him to a group of girls, asking, “Have you met my boyfriend Daniel yet?”

#silverusso #terry silver x daniel larusso #cobra kai #the karate kid 3 #daniel larusso #terry silver #drable #writing #my headcanons #jealousy #800+ words #i love jealous daniel too #idk how ooc this is idc i liked it #also known as terry was kind of waiting for daniel to let him tell them #what better way than to make him jealous heh

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srorgana1 · 9 months

Text

Invocation

Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey

Warnings: Dark Themes (apporaching Dead Dove, you have been warned), Supernatural/Paranormal, Blood, Violence, Gore, Death, NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Psychological and Physical Torture, Kidnapping, Hatred towards organized religion, Pain, Major/Minor character death/injury, Demonic Possession

Chapter Six

Rey growls, slamming her tea cup down. It shakes and rattles on her desk as her co-workers side eye her. Just as well, she thinks. They already think she’s a nutter anyway. She has already heard their snide comments in the hall. Too overambitious. Too reactive. Her cheeks burn as she writes her report. The team has really gotten nowhere and another two people have gone missing since they have started. The media has also gotten wind of them, increasing the pressure tenfold.

As she writes, she thinks back to last night. Kay, Poe and her were on patrol and were following up on a potential lead. It was a dead end obviously but they did have the time to reevaluate the evidence they already had.

All those missing were Supernaturals. No humans. Some were hybrids - most often have half Witch and something else. That must mean something. But even with that, they seemed so normal. All of those who they have interviewed said they didn't notice anything abnormal prior to their disappearances.

The most vocal interviewee was a feisty little Witch by the name of Jessica. Her son was one of the first to disappear. She said she had a vision the night he was taken but has not been able to sense him since. It hurt Rey’s heart to see how much Jessica loved her son. How she wished someone cared about her that way.

She signed her report and sent it off, rubbing her tired eyes. The head of the Investigative Team will not be happy with their progress. She hopes he won't see it as her failure. She hears the ping of an incoming email. Sitting up, she shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. She feels a tingle run down the lines on the back of her neck. It has been happening more and more lately. Must be the stress.

She turns when she hears two people talking in the hall. “Have you heard one of the victims is a Hemming?” a man says, his voice getting louder. “Really? Did you hear that he may be a Knight of Ren?” a female voice responses. “No there’s no way, that dude and his wife have been here multiple times, he looks so normal…”

Hemming. Knights of Ren. She sighs again. This has really gotten out of control. She clicks on the message. It’s from Jyn, assistant lead investigator requesting a meeting later today. She knew she would eventually have to talk to one of them in person eventually. She sends the confirmation as she powers down her computer, thankful she can get lunch and a walk in prior.

---

“Welcome Mr. Daniels, we really appreciate your assistance in this matter” the petite woman says next to him. Kylo nods as he shifts back in his uber modern chair. He watches her smile at him as she turns on her laptop. “I just emailed you our progress notes but I hope you don’t mind if one of the members of our team joins us” she says as his tablet pings. “Not at all, it will be beneficial for me to meet them since I will be working closely with them,” he says with a small smirk.

Infiltrating The Order was much easier than expected. After glamouring that poor girl, he quickly gained access. He willed himself a cover, magicking himself a false identity and credentials. He influenced the girl to add him into the system as one of the many consultants from The Council. He was surprised to see there where so many of them here in different departments, so it would be hard for them to notice the inaccuracy.

He looks at his tablet absorbing the information quickly. Ten missing persons and barely any leads. He sighs when he sees the details of the most recent disappearance. A teenage Cambion who just graduated from secondary school. According to his mother, he had texted her saying he was on his way home and never showed.

A clicking of heels reaches his ears before the door opens. Looking up he feels a strangely familiar energy. The door opens and there before him are the eyes he saw at AXS. Even though they are behind thick black rimmed glasses, they still pierce right through him.

He schools his features as he watches her shut the door and walk towards the table. He can already tell she is not entirely human. She is tall but slight, her elven-like features fitting her perfectly. She is dressed conservatively in a minimally patterned blouse and tailored dress pants. While she is the epitome of office chic, it's her energy; her magick that draws him in even more. She is the most captivating creature he has ever laid his eyes on.

She nods to Ms Erso and to him. “Sorry I’m late Jyn, you know how the elevators can be” she says, setting her laptop down. He notices a slight spike in her energy as well as some rosy coloring on her cheeks. “It’s no problem Rey. I would like to introduce one of The Council’s new consultant, Mr. Ren Daniels. He will be assisting you and the team until this whole situation is resolved” Ms Erso says, nodding her head between the two of them.

He nods at Rey as she narrows her eyes at him. She seems unimpressed, so different from the last time she saw him. The glamour must be working quite well then. “Now Rey, can you please give us an update from last night and where we stand at this point…”

#adam driver #knights of ren #kylo ren au #kylo ren #vampire au #vampire kylo #vampire #rey nobody #kylo ren x rey #reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo au #adam douglas driver #Spotify

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strawwritesfic · 10 months

Text

Asexual!Q x Female!Reader: Logical Fallacy [Ch. 20]

Summary: Q’s got one hundred and two problems. His girlfriend is, technically speaking, every single one.

Challenge: “102 Things A Guy Should Know About Girls” challenge by Miss Chocobo on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; asexual!Q; sexual!reader; a running gag about sexual harassment; double standard: sexual harassment, female on male; sexual harassment played for comedy; James Bond & Reader friendship; civilian!reader; artist!reader; complicated family relationships; reader has a really big family; miscommunications; MI6 would not behave this way in reality; set post-Skyfall; joking references made to Bond/Q)

Pairings: Q/Female!Reader; James Bond/Eve Moneypenny

Tag List: @imaginesfire; @rory-cakes

Master List

Rule #20: Saying something sweet might get you off the hook, but doing something sweet will always get you off the hook.

Q could hear the television the moment he walked through the front the door that night. It wasn't on loud enough that he could understand what people were saying, or, indeed, if anyone was talking at all, but he could tell that it was on. That meant that you were home, or at least he assumed as much. You’d long since abandoned the habit of leaving things on when you left the flat.

He was not entirely sure if your presence was a good sign. His hand gripped the small bouquet of flowers he’d bought on the way home as he shut the door behind him.

“[Name],” he called into the oddly still home. “[Name], are you here?”

You didn’t answer.

His pulse quickened a bit. More likely than not, you simply weren’t talking to him. He couldn’t blame you. But the silence did not necessarily mean that you had left entirely.

“[Name],” Q said again, trying to keep his voice light.

If you were still spooked, he didn’t want to make things worse. As his worry grew, he wandered down the hall, following the sound of the television until he reached the living room. He peeked inside reluctantly, then felt the tightness in his chest dissipate at once.

You were there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in your lap. Your eyes looked a little glassy, but otherwise you seemed much healthier than Q had seen you in days. Your was damp, still dripping slightly onto the collar of the faded t-shirt you wore for pajamas. He practically collapsed against the door frame in relief.

“Eh?” With a handful of popcorn almost to your mouth, you stopped, blinked, and looked in his direction. Oh, sure. That you noticed. Not him shouting frantically for you a few minutes ago. “Alton!”

Q could only stare as you sat up a little straighter and beamed at the sight of him. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting upon coming home, but it certainly wasn’t this enthusiastic greeting. When you’d been let out of M’s office that afternoon, you’d only given Q a tremulous goodbye before sprinting for the exit. Now, everything seemed fine. He gazed steadily at you for a long minute; all you did was gaze back while shoving fistfuls of popcorn into your mouth.

“[Name],” he said hesitantly and very seriously. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great!”

“No, I mean…after all of that.”

You blinked again, then cocked your head and smiled a very rare kind of smile for you–one that told Q that you understood something that he, as of that moment, did not. He walked a little farther into the room before you spoke:

“I’m fine. Look, Alton, I’m really sorry you had to see –”

“No, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

An impatient hand waved in the air above your head. “You were just trying to protect me. Mr. Bond, too. I really am sorry for breaking down like that. I just…” You trailed away and allowed your eyes to do so as well. When you looked back at Q a second later, you did so with a shrug. “Went a little stir crazy. You know I don’t like to be alone, and there was nothing to do. I just sat there all day, worrying about you. And I couldn’t contact anyone…”

Silence fell. You chewed on your lip as you glanced about the living room. What were you looking for? A place to hide?

Q stood above you with guilt gnawing at his chest. He took a deep breath; apologizing had never been one of his strengths, but he knew he needed to do it now.

“[Name], I am so sorry.”

You lifted your eyebrows, but didn’t comment on the unusual situation. After a moment, you frowned and tugged on one of his pants' legs, as it was the only thing you could reach. “Alton, quit apologizing. You told me things might get like this when you took the MI6 job. I was the one that chose to stay, okay?”

“And are you still going to?”

“Of course I am, Alton.” When Q looked at you questioningly, you grinned. “Come on. How are you supposed to survive without me? You don’t even know how to work an oven properly.”

“Yes, I do!”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile remained. “Just teasing. I love you, Alton. I’m not going to leave just because of that. It wasn’t too bad. Everyone was really nice to me.”

“Even M?”

“Yeah, your boss was totally cool. Although he did tell me not to video call you at work anymore.”

“Probably a good idea.”

This time, the silence was gentler. You smiled soppily up at Q, and he could feel a tiny smile on his own face as well. Then he remembered the flowers.

“Oh!” He practically threw the bouquet at you. “I got you these. To say I’m sorry. I thought you might like them. But maybe you don’t? I couldn’t remember what you said about flowers. You can just toss them out. I mean, if you want to.”

Q could feel his ears turning red. He was babbling. How embarrassing.

You, however, only smiled again as you took the flowers from him. “Thanks, Alton. But you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he insisted. “I…love you, too.”

Your eyes went wide. Q couldn’t fathom why, though. Surely he’d said that before? But you didn’t leave him long to ponder. You patted the wood floor beside you and gestured toward the television.

“Take a seat, Alton. Just for a little while. Then you should definitely get some sleep.”

“Probably,” said Q. But he settled down next to you anyway, and let his head fall on your shoulder.

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hookedonapirate · 1 year

Text

Summary: 1919 England, Emma Cassidy, wife of a baronet, finds herself trapped in a loveless marriage after the war leaves her husband, Neal, paralyzed from the waist down and unable to produce an heir.

Despite the obstacles, she sticks by her husband's side at Goldby Hall, his family's estate, but when she meets former army lieutenant and Neal's aloof gamekeeper, Killian Jones, she feels curiously drawn to his distant blue eyes and quiet demeanor.

At first, she seeks him out for reprieve from her soulless, mundane existence at Goldby Hall, but what starts out as purely physical quickly turns into more than either of them expects.

But Emma is a baronetess, wife of an aristocrat and Killian is a working class servant. Their love affair is frowned upon, and she risks losing her title, her wealth and her position in the world by being with him. But she is determined to get her happy ending with the man she loves. Even if it means losing everything else in the process.

A/N: Thank you @ultraluckycatnd and for looking this over and for being amazing!

Hope you all enjoy!

Catch up: Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4 I Ch 5 I Ch 6 I Ch 7 I Ch 8 I Ch 9 I Ch 10 I Ch 11 I Ch 12 I Epilogue

Also on: AO3

Chapter Four

“There was an explosion in the mines, and Ted was only twenty-eight.” Johanna places some violets into a small vase on Neal’s breakfast tray. “The company said it was his own fault somehow. He was running away when he should have laid down. The compensation was only £300. I’ll never forgive them for that. Them branding Ted a coward.”

Emma’s heart constricts as she sits at the table with her legs crossed, hearing about Mrs. Bolton’s husband. From what Johanna has told her so far, Mr. Bolton was a very brave man. “He wasn’t a coward, though, Johanna. He was only trying to survive.” She offers a small smile before her eyes fall to the tray Johanna had prepared.

At first she worried Neal would take Johanna for granted and give her too much responsibility, but the caretaker doesn’t seem to be stressed or overworked. In fact she is always positive and cheerful and encourages Emma to go for walks and get some fresh air. She is used to Neal and his demands after all.

“You should really let Wendy do that. You’re his nurse, not his servant.”

Johanna waves off her words. “No, I don’t mind. Busy hands, quiet mind.”

Before she takes the tray, Emma snatches a small plate of toast and tears off a piece, popping it into her mouth.

Johanna laughs softly just as the bell tinkles. “Oh, there’s the bell. I have to go.”

After Johanna leaves the room to bring Neal his tray, Emma finishes her toast and goes for a walk. She’s feeling stronger than before, both mentally and physically. Her appetite has returned and she doesn’t feel weighed down like she did when she was Neal’s caretaker.

When she reaches the forest, it’s still, yet gusty, the sun warming her skin, the rays showing through the trees.

She takes the same route she usually does, but this time she can hear faint pounding or maybe the chopping of wood. She follows the sound and it leads her to a long, winding creek, the water flowing around a trail of rocks that are close enough together to allow her to cross the creek. So she steps onto the first rock and carefully skips from one to the next. Once she reaches the other side of the creek, she follows a path around some firs, where the chopping draws nearer and she comes across a secret little hut made of rustic poles where the keeper is chopping wood. Emma’s breath catches as she stops to admire him.

His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms, his biceps bulging underneath his navy-blue shirt. Emma's eyes are glued to him as he lifts the ax, the fabric straining over the breadth of his shoulders which tense as he brings it down with a low grunt, the log splitting easily in two with a loud crack before he adds to the pile of chopped wood.

Droplets of sweat bead at his forehead before rolling down the sides of his handsome face. He wipes it with his arm and slips off his suspenders, letting them fall by his thighs. She’s not sure why but the strength of his body combined with the sureness and power of his strokes send heat coursing through her, setting her skin ablaze despite the chilly air.

Jolly trots toward her, barking, alerting the keeper of her presence, and Emma smiles, reaching out a hand to pet her as the dog runs down the steps.

Jones lowers the ax and salutes, watching her in silence, as she climbs the steps. She can tell he’s annoyed by the intrusion, for he enjoys the quietness of this place. Enjoys his solitude.

“I wondered what the sound was,” she explains, feeling weak and breathless as she rubs her arms to warm herself. She steps toward the door of the hut and turns around to face him. “Is there a chair in this hut? I walked much further than I expected, afraid I wore myself out.”

“Of course, your Ladyship.” He sets down the ax on the tree stump and leads her inside. “Please, come in.” Drawing out a chair, he places it in the center of the floor.

Emma takes a seat, thanking him.

“I’ll light your fire, milady.”

She looks up at him in surprise. “Oh, no, don’t bother.” But as she peers down at her hands, they’re nearly blue.

“No, I insist.” He quickly takes some logs to the little brick fireplace in the corner. “Warm yourself up a little bit while I prep the coops for the new chicks.”

Soon the flames blaze and crackle, the smoke rising up the chimney.

She sits and warms her hands while Jones goes outside and starts hammering nails into plywood. She listens to the tapping as she looks around.

The hut is quite cozy, paneled with unvarnished material, and there’s a little table and stool at the back wall. It has no windows, the only light coming in through the open door. It’s not luxurious by any means, and it’s a bit cluttered with tools and traps and other materials for the keeper's various projects, but it looks like a nice little sanctuary from the rest of the world. In fact, it looks like the perfect place to come and read her books. The perfect place to escape from Goldby.

She’s not sure how much time passes when she realizes the tapping has ceased. She turns her head toward the doorway and catches the keeper averting his gaze from her and returning to his task, the tapping continuing.

Was he watching her?

He’s now hammering away at his workbench, giving no sign of awareness of her presence. He is obviously a man who likes to be alone, and she is invading his personal space. He is quiet and sort of broody like a timid, wild animal that recoils at human contact and hides away from the rest of the world. As she stares at him fixedly, she is reminded she had seen him naked, those images flooding her mind so intensely, her cheeks warm and she looks away, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

Feeling hot now, a little fire of her own flickering inside her, Emma rises and stands in the doorway.

He doesn’t look her way, just focuses on his task.

“I never knew this hut was here before.”

“Not many do. That's why I like it.”

Surely his statement is a hint to his displeasure of her being here. “Do you keep it locked when you’re not around?”

He nods, still hammering away softly. “Sometimes, milady.”

“Can I have a key?”

He finally pauses from his task and looks her way, a look of surprise—or maybe irritation—on his face, like she is invading his sanctuary. But she finds it difficult to determine whether he is annoyed by her presence or simply curious about her. “You want a key?”

She nods. “Mmhmm. I think I’d like to sit here sometimes,” she murmurs, not in a demanding tone but one that says a thousand words she doesn’t actually speak. She too seeks solitude and escape from her ordinary world.

He studies her for a moment, their eyes locked, and she knows he senses her loneliness and desperate need for this tranquil hideout to either escape from human contact or from simply one person in particular. “I don’t know if there is another key.”

“Well, I’ll see to it myself then. Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon, my Lady.” He salutes as she walks away, heading down the steps.

When Emma returns home, Neal is waiting for her at the tea table, where the old brass kettle is simmering on the tray.

She removes her scarf and hat, putting them away and returning to Neal. “Sorry. Am I late?”

He doesn’t answer but the fake smile he offers tells her he is annoyed by her tardiness for their daily afternoon tea.

“Why didn’t you let Mrs. Bolton make the tea?”

“I don’t quite see her presiding over the tea table.”

“Hmm, I don’t remember anything about tea in our wedding vows,” she mumbles bitterly, plopping down into the chair across from him.

He glances over at her curiously. “What did you do all afternoon?”

“Went for a walk and found a nice little hut where the pheasants are reared.” She pours them both a cup of tea. “Do you think there is a second key to the hut?”

“There may be one in Father’s study. Why?”

“I thought it was quite lovely. Might read my book there sometime.”

Neal chuckles mockingly. “Books by that degenerate Irishman?”

Emma raises a brow. “What? You mean James Joyce?”

“I heard his next book is to be banned for obscenity.”

“Hmm, such a shame. I was looking forward to reading it.” Sitting back in her chair, she sips her tea.

Neal picks up his own cup and takes a sip. “Was Jones at the hut?”

“Mmhmm. Don’t think he appreciated the intrusion.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. It was just his manner.” Emma laughs softly. “Don’t think he liked me having freedom of the castle.”

Neal scoffs. “That’s what happens when a lieutenant goes back to being a gamekeeper. What do you expect, giving a fellow like that rank and a sense of importance then taking it all away?”

Emma frowns at her husband, drumming her fingers on her teacup as she thinks about Neal’s words. Should a hired man be deemed less important because of his lack of rank and title? It’s certainly a Cassidy thing to say.

~*~

Dear Mary Margaret,

I hope it hasn’t been raining all week in Scotland like it has here. I’ve been able to go out and explore the grounds all I like. But I’ve spent most of this last week cooped up, aching to get back outside. I’m writing to you now from a little hut I found in the forest. A secret place where I can hide away from the world. Only one other person comes here.

Emma looks up from the leather bound notebook she's penning the letter in as she sits on the porch of the hut since she’d been unable to find the spare key in the study. It's a bit chilly but the sound of the light drizzle of rain is soothing.

Jones emerges from around the firs and heads up the steps with his gun tucked underneath his arm. She quickly closes her notebook and pushes herself up, apology on her face, afraid he might be upset she’s here, invading his space once again. “Don’t worry. I was just going. Only came to get out of the rain.”

He holds up a key. “I shall leave this here until I get another one made.” He extends the key to her, and she takes it in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it and gaping at him in surprise. Surprised he’s willing to give up his sanctuary to her. Or at least lend it to her when he’s not here. “Thank you.”

“The hut’s not very tidy, but I cleared it of what I could.”

“But I didn’t want you to go to any trouble.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble. I am setting the hens in about a week. But they won’t be scared of you. I still have to see to them morning and night, but I shan’t bother you any more than I can help.”

“But you wouldn’t bother me,” she assures him. “I’d rather not go to the hut at all if I am going to be in the way.”

He stares at her with his warm but distant blue eyes as though he’s surprised by her own kindness. He then turns away from her to cough.

She eyes him in concern. “You have a cold?”

“It’s nothing, your Ladyship. The last pneumonia left me with a cough, but it’s nothing.” He points at the top of the door frame above his head. “Just leave it here when you’re done, Milady. And I’ll do the same.” He salutes her before turning around to leave.

A small smile pulls at her lips as she inserts the key into the keyhole and opens the door. Stepping inside, she sits in the chair and finishes her letter to Mary Margaret.

I wish I could visit you, but Neal says he can’t manage here without me. Not yet at least. But I’ll come on the next holiday, I promise.

With love,

Emma

When she’s finished, she closes her notebook and leaves the key on the door frame before heading back home.

Over the next few days, the rain abates and she visits the hut every chance she can afford, reading her books in the chair and enjoying the quiet and peaceful reprieve from her marriage to Neal. Her aversion for him grows with each passing day. But she does not hate him, for hatred requires passion, emotion, and she feels none of that for him. There is nothing between them. He never so much as touches her and she never touches him. He never even attempts to hold her hand yet tortures her by telling her how committed he is to her and that he never wants her to leave.

What honorable man would subject a woman to this horrifying duty and then abandon her there in the void?

She flees as much as possible to the forest and retreats to the hut in the morning or afternoon. Jones is never at the hut when she’s there, but she surmises he is purposely trying to avoid her.

He had made the hut tidy and set the little table and chair near the fireplace, leaving a pile of kindling and small logs for her so she could warm herself while she’s there. Such a simple gesture, but very thoughtful of him. Outside, he had built a low little roof of boughs and straw, a shelter for the birds, and under it stands the five coops.

On another day when she arrives at the hut, she finds a brown hen sitting alert and fierce in the coop on the pheasants’ eggs, fluffed out so proudly. Emma calls her Lord of the Manor.

The next time she comes, all five coops are occupied by hens, three brown, one gray and one black. All alike, they cluster themselves down on the eggs, fluffing out their feathers. And with brilliant eyes, they watch Emma as she crouches before them, and they cluck with anger and alarm, protective of their eggs.

Emma finds some corn from the corn-bin in the hut and offers it but they will not eat it, one hen pecking at her hand with a fierce little jab. She’s afraid to get pecked again but longs to give something to the brooding mothers since they neither feed themselves nor drink. So she brings water in a little tin and is delighted when they drink.

Now she comes every day. Lately the hens are the only things in the world that warm her heart, give her a reason to get out of bed in the morning. They are the only things she looks forward to. Well that and possibly running into the keeper again.

When she arrives at the hut in the late afternoon on a beautiful sunny day with large tufts of primroses under the hazels and many violets dotting the paths, there is one tiny baby chicken dancing around in front of a coop and the mother hen clucking in terror. The little gray-brown chick has dark markings, and at that very moment, it is the most lively little spark of a creature in the seven kingdoms.

In a state of bliss, Emma crouches down to watch in wonderment as though the chick were her own. So little and precious and completely fearless. The small chick makes her envious. Even though it scampers back into the coop in response to the mother's shrill cries and hides beneath her feathers, it isn't actually frightened.

Emma is fascinated by the new life, but at the same time she is reminded more than ever of her own loneliness. It’s becoming unbearable.

She has only one desire in life now—to visit the hut in the forest. The rest is an agonizing, painful nightmare she wishes to wake up from. She supposes the forest is her awake-ness. But sometimes she is kept all day at Goldby by her duties as hostess.

~*~

“Well, if it starts to increase profits, that should keep them in business for the foreseeable future,” Mr. Geppetto says. Marco Geppetto is the general manager of the collieries, and once Neal got wind that the town of Misthaven will soon be going under, the coal thinning, he requested Mr. Geppetto’s presence for dinner.

“We can modernize as well. Why not?” Neals asks him as he sits at the head of the long dining table with other businessmen.

“Neal, what about your writing?” Emma points out.

He scoffs, dismissing her question. “The literary world doesn’t need me. But the mine’s a sinking ship. It needs a proper captain to save her.”

“Don’t you think the miners have led grim enough lives?” she points out, not happy about Neal’s new endeavor. “I mean, couldn’t you just help them move on?”

“To what? Begging?” He chuckles. “Help them move on?” he parrots in a derisive voice. “You talk like such a woman.”

She sighs and sets down her fork on the dinner plate, her appetite suddenly gone. “Spoken like a man.”

Neal ignores her and reverts his attention to Marco. “Mr. Geppetto, how much might it cost us, a ballpark, to build a chemical work?”

“Initially, I’d say around £500 to £700. Obviously, within that, there is contingency…”

Emma throws her napkin onto the table and rises, silently storming out of the room. She pulls on her violet mackintosh and slips out of the house at the side door, trying to hold back her tears.

It’s nearly dark, the sun setting as she flees across the park, afraid Neal has noticed she has left and will call her back or have someone else call her back.

She arrives at the hut, flushed and out of breath. The keeper is here, surprisingly enough, closing up the coops for the night, so the little occupants will be safe.

“I came to see the chicks!” She hurries up the steps, panting and glancing shyly at the keeper. “How many do we have now?”

“Eighteen, milady. Not bad.”

“Eighteen…” Emma’s eyes widen as she crouches in front of one of the coops. “Can I touch one?”

“Yeah, go ahead..”

Emma opens the door of the coop, a little timid after being pecked by the mother before. “What if one pecks at me?”

“Then peck it back,” he answers in a teasing tone.

Emma rolls her eyes and cautiously sticks her hands into the coop, the chicks chirping as they patter about on tiny feet. She lets out a little squeal when they all flock toward her trying to peck with tiny beaks.

The keeper comes over and stands above her, chuckling as he crouches down beside her, picking up a chick and gingerly placing it in her hands, encasing the backs of hers with his palms. “That’s it. Very gently.” The tiny body is warm and shaky in her palms. And the keeper's hands are warm against the back of hers, making her heart flutter.

“He’s trembling.”

“You’re trembling much more than he is.”

Emma’s not sure why, but for some reason, holding the baby chick in her hand fills her heart with emotion. Such a tiny creature, yet so full of life. Unlike her, a full-grown woman who has no life left within her. She will never be able to bear children as long as she is shackled to Neal, she will never get to hold a tiny baby in her arms and show him or her tenderness and care and affection, the things Neal will never show her.

Despite herself, a tear slips down Emma’s cheek and lands on her wrist. No longer able to hold back, she gives in to the emotions buried inside her, body racking with sobs.

“Milady?” he says in concern after a moment.

She exhales sharply, realizing she’s crying in front of the gamekeeper. Shame is added on to all the other emotions she feels. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he murmurs sweetly as he gently takes the chick in his hands and releases him inside the coop.

She is once again surprised by his kindness as she wipes at her tears and buries her face in her hands, gasping for air. He rises and extends his hand to her, helping her up. His palm is so warm against hers, a wave of something indescribable crashing through her.

He closes the coop and turns toward her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and softly, gently, strokes her back in soothing circles. Her heart is pounding painfully as she spins and throws her arms around him tightly as though her life depends on it, craving his warmth and more of his comforting scent.

At first his body stiffens—he’s not sure how to react, or maybe he’s too stunned to react—then he slowly winds an arm around her. “So that’s how it’s been lately, eh?” He brings his other arm around her and continues stroking her back softly and slowly as she sobs into his shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, his voice calm and soothing in her ear.

After a moment, she releases her hold on him and he leads her into the hut.

He sets aside the chair and table and grabs a brown soldier’s blanket from the tool-chest, spreading it out on the floor. She glances at his handsome face.

“You lie there, I’ll start the fire.” He closes the door and kneels in front of the fireplace to get it going.

Emma sinks to her knees on the blanket beside him but doesn’t lie down, just tries to catch her breath and wipe her tears.

“We need more firewood.” He moves to get up, but she grabs his arm to stop him.

“Please don’t go.” Among the overwhelming sadness, she feels painfully drawn to him and so helplessly desperate for his warmth. His affection. Anything he can give her really.

Surprised she had stopped him, he eyes the hand on his arm before moving his intense blue ones to her sad green ones. All the air leaves her lungs when she swears, underneath that loneliness, she spots the desire there. Desire for her, perhaps?

The thought intrigues her, makes her want to discover how true her musings are. Does he yearn for her as much as she yearns for him?

Drawing his hand to her lips, she inhales his manly scent, sparking parts of her to life again, her senses tingling. She brushes her lips across his skin, her heart pounding as she looks up at him. He’s no longer looking at her, but she can see his face. She can see the internal battle in his features. He wants her, but he’s torn. He’s trying to reign in his desire for her. She hopes he gives in. She wants it more than anything she has wanted in a long time.

She gives his hand a tug, trying to pull him closer, and he doesn’t move just yet, but she can almost see those walls of his caving in. She can see it in his eyes, the way they darken and become hooded. He brushes the pad of his thumb over her lips, and she kisses him there, taking his hand in both of hers and breathing heavily against his skin, but for a different reason this time. He finally turns his head toward her, and after a moment’s pause, he comes closer, cupping her cheeks in his hands. She sighs in utter relief, her eyes locked with his, letting him see the desperation behind her jaded depths.

She wants him, she wants him so much it terrifies her.

He leans in so close, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but instead his lips linger over hers and she can feel his breath mingle with hers as he strokes her cheek with one hand and lowers one of his suspenders with the other. She pulls down his other one as he removes his hat, sharply flinging it to the floor with a loud thump and resting his forehead against hers.

Lowering Emma to the floor, he fumbles for her undergarments, moving her dress out of the way and removing the thin silk sheath of her slip, desperately pulling it over her feet, tossing it aside and spreading her legs wide, leaving on her stockings and shoes. Quickly and clumsily, he undoes his trousers, their breaths heavy, hearts pounding in anticipation, their eyes fused in a heated, unbreakable gaze.

God, she needs him.

She hadn’t realized how badly until this very moment.

As fast as he moves, she is too damn patient in her need for him, her core pulsing with need, her body aching for him to touch her. To pound into her. When he finally gets his trousers down to his knees, his cock is big and hard and throbbing—even bigger than she had imagined—as he wraps his fingers around himself and kisses her naval softly, his lips warm and firm against her skin. Looming over her, he settles himself in the cradle of her soft, bare thighs and enters her swiftly. Emma gasps, her body thrumming with relief. She grabs his shirt, pulling him closer, urging him to move, her hand slipping underneath his clothes and stroking his back, desperate to pull him in deeper.

Good lord, he feels good.

Incredible, really.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, his lips sliding over her heated skin, and finally, finally, begins thrusting deep into her warmth, all the air leaving her lungs. The welcoming intrusion as he rocks into her slick, tight heat slowly yet fiercely, his warm, heavy breaths brushing her skin, his solid weight on her fragile body and the low groans in her ear awaken every single part of her, parts that have been dormant for years.

As he picks up speed, their heavy panting and moans sync and intensify with each thrust. Emma gropes for something sturdy to hold onto and she cards her other hand through his untidy hair. Gripping the leg of the table tightly, it drags along the floor, the table knocking against the wall as he fucks her rough and hard in the middle of the hut.

It feels so good, too good, and she doesn't want this to stop but it's been years since she had been with a man, she doesn't even remember how long. Arching her back, she tips her head, moans flying from her lips as she feels her orgasm building.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cries out as her walls come tumbling down around his girth, and she knows no one can hear her from deep within the forest.

Jones moves faster now, chasing his own impending orgasm, and the unusually high-pitched sounds clawing from his throat make her skin tingle as he groans and grunts into her neck. "Bloody hell." When he gets there, his thrusts are more aggressive but slower as he pours his seed inside of her.

He stills, and Emma runs her hands through his hair, still writhing in his arms as his body goes limp. He lowers his head and groans, panting heavily against her breast.

They stay like that for a while, still and quiet, while they reassemble themselves.

She briefly wonders if this is even real.

Is she dreaming?

If she is, she doesn’t wish to wake up.

Jones still lies atop her with his arms around her, their bodies still fused as her mind reels with so many questions.

What is he feeling? What is he thinking? Does he regret this? Does he even like her? She has no idea. He is a stranger to her, she doesn’t even know his first name. Whenever someone mentions him, they always refer to him as the keeper or Jones.

They had not even kissed, they hadn't stared into each other's eyes dreamily while he fucked her, they hadn't engaged in foreplay. They had skipped all of that, too desperate to have each other, but perhaps it’s better this way. Better to not risk getting attached. They were both simply fulfilling their most carnal needs.

Yet when he finally rises and draws away from her, taking away his weight and warmth, it feels like abandonment. He pulls up his trousers, tucking his shirt into them, replaces his hat on his head and quietly opens the door, stepping outside.

Seeing it’s now dark, the silver moon shining above the trees, she quickly pulls on her slip and rises, dragging her hands over her face and taking a deep breath. After rearranging herself, she leaves the hut and finds Jones on the porch, waiting for her.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says casually as if he hadn’t just fucked the lights out of her and orgasmed inside of her.

They’re both silent as he walks with her back to the park, his hands shoved into his pockets as he trails behind her shyly. “You alright, milady?”

“Mmhmm. You?”

“Aye…” They approach the park gate and turn toward each other. “That was uh…” He scratches behind his ear, fumbling to finish his sentence.

“A one-time thing,” she clarifies firmly.

He nods, his cheeks turning pink. “Probably for the best.”

Emma nods her head toward the park, making sure to not let on how much she wishes this weren’t a one-time thing. But it has to be. It’s best for everyone.

“I should probably go on alone.” She opens the gate and turns back at him. “Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye, milady.”

After she steps through, he salutes her and grabs the gate, pulling it closed.

Emma bites her bottom lip as she walks back to Goldby, or rather floats back, still in a daze. She can feel Jones' warmth dripping down her thighs and it's a feeling she rather enjoys, like a souvenir. She has no choice but to remember their brief encounter. Not that she wants to forget. She won’t be able to forget. She can still feel how incredible he had felt on top of her, she can still feel how big he was inside her, filling her up so perfectly.

She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t even feel guilty about being with him. In fact, it feels freeing, like a heavy gray cloud has been lifted from her world, the stars finally aligning.

She feels light as a feather.

But then she gets closer to Goldby and her heart starts to pound when she remembers Neal and worries he'll be upset with her for leaving.

But when she returns, Johanna informs her he’s still chatting with Mr. Geppetto.

He didn’t even notice she was gone.

#cs ff #captain swan #lady cassidy's lover

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