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ducktracy · 1 year

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I don’t want to go too in-depth about this because I don’t want to come off as hateful towards TLTS however I will say (with no disrespect towards people that like it and esp not the people that worked on it) that I feel the reason for its sudden resurgence has less to do about the show *in particular* but more how it presents the Looney Tunes cast in a consistent domestic setting with consistent characters—which is much more easily consumable for fandom than shorts with VERY little continuity and characterizations that could depend on director, year, or even just that short.

this has been ruminating in my inbox since July (and i am SO SORRY… i have 200+ unanswered asks + DMs i promise it is not a purposeful disregard i’m just busy and easily distracted :’)) and i wanted to hold onto it just because 1) people who have been following me for quite awhile know my opinions on TLTS by now and i don’t want to keep beating a dead horse and 2) i feel a little guilty critiquing it because a lot of complaints do come to personal taste and i don’t want to discredit the work that went into the show… and also just know it’s a pretty beloved staple by fandom spaces and don’t want to engage in any drama.

BUT! i figured i’d throw my two cents in now because i’ve been doing a rewatch with a friend who hasn’t seen it before/only exposure to LT is through me (and rewatch as in not just skimming the Porky and Daffy episodes like i have been doing after i first finished the show in 2019) and i think it’s helped to give me a bit of a new perspective through a fresh pair of eyes

i agree with your point 100000000% and can’t say anything you didn’t already say better. i also sense that it’s easier to get into as an “outsider”. the more i delve into TLTS, the less i find myself enjoying it, but i CAN laugh at it if i distance myself enough from the source material/integrity of the characters at hand. i could definitely see myself enjoying it much more if these were different character altogether… but that i make such a mental compromise to begin with (which is more of a “me” problem than with the actual show) obviously demonstrates some disenfranchisement with the show. if i truly just try to view it for what it is, i find myself laughing at it much more. it does have some genuinely funny writing and i am a sucker for Jessica Borutski’s designs in the first season

going back to my earlier point though, i think it’s easier for people to get into who aren’t familiar with the characters. LT is a strange beast in that i think it’s structure (or lack thereof) is alien to a lot of people so used to serialization/episodic formats nowadays that have some semblance of continuity. in the originals, the characters differ depending on the director, the writer, the culture of the time, etc. even, say, two Daffy shorts released in the same year by the same director can drastically differ if they’re written by two different writers (like compare a Daffy short written by Mike Maltese to one written by Tedd Pierce, even if it was by the same director at the same time. there are going to be different approaches and nuances.)

as such, these characters are a lot more abstract and difficult to pin down. sure, there are recurring traits; Bugs is almost always witty and sharp in some way. Daffy is one of the most varied characters in the history of animation, but remains a lack of impulse control/general charisma throughout his career. while Porky has a tendency to get swept up in violent impulses depending on the context/director/writer, he is generally approached as mild mannered. there are definite traits that are identifiable, but these traits are INCREDIBLY malleable. the original shorts are so dependent on the context of their creators, their background, their culture that it’s impossible to view them from a lens of sheer objectivity. especially with the original shorts boasting so many different attitude and approaches at the same time! these cartoons are built on variety and subjectivity

therefore, i think modern audiences aren’t exactly equipped for this/such a format is understandably alien. and on social media especially, in a day and age where we feel we have to rationalize and justify our every waking thought, movement, impulse and so on, we try to make an explanation for everything or simplify something down so it fits our above strife for objectivity. what i’m getting at is that i think it’s (understandably) difficult for people to accept this at times contradictory variety, and it’s more comfortable to pin these characters down to easy, simple, identifiable traits and buzzwords. however, the original characters were not made with this train of thought in mind. and because the originals are so full of nuance and personal experience and background and so on, it’s nearly impossible to replicate that to the same effect

so, TLTS simplifies. Bugs is now the aggravated straight man who just wants to be left alone. Daffy is an inconsiderate, idiotic rube. Porky is a complete pushover who is made to be the butt of the joke many times to a degree that is even unintentional. little personality traits exuded in the originals (Chuck Jones’ interpretations of Bugs and Daffy, the former just wanting to find peace and messing with his adversaries if only provoked, Daffy letting his impulses get the best of him and come off as inconsiderate in the name of self preservation, Porky’s mild manners being misconstrued for a lack of self defense) are filtered through a more objective lens that can be digested by audiences with more ease—especially audiences unaccustomed to the nuances of the originals.

i was surfing around the TLTS wiki one day and saw something that mentioned (paraphrasing of course) “Tina’s hairstyle is ‘the Rachel’ style, based off of Rachel from Friends” and while it was just an innocuous sentence likely included with no real basis behind it, i think it perfectly described my issues with the show. instead of allowing these characters to exist on their own or own up to their genuine roots, purposeful sitcom clichés and other brief summations of characters are applied instead. rather than letting Tina exist as her prototypal self (RIP Marisol Mallard) which was arguably more unique, we give her “the Rachel” because it’s an identifiable synonym with sitcoms and comedic shenanigans and therefore clues the audience that, hey! this is a wacky sitcom. and i agree that is a smart association, but it just feels like an injustice. the LT characters are approximations and buzzwords rather than a genuine demonstration of what made them so compelling and iconic in the first place

please note that despite my ramblings about objectivity vs subjectivity, this is all just my opinion and i again feel a bit remorseful for even expressing it. i truly do think the show is funny on its own and am always happy to see increased interest in the franchise. i know the decisions and work behind the show were not as cut and dry as “Tina has a similar hairstyle to a fictional sitcom icon therefore the show is a representation of sitcom clichés”, and as a person who works on cartoons myself and understands the thought and care that go into these decisions i feel responsible for my armchair diagnosing. so, i ask that you take all of this with a grain of salt. it’s 99% my own opinion speaking. but i cannot agree with your original point enough, and feel that it is a show so unobjectively worshipped through its ease of access thanks to a comparative lack of complexity (as well as the fact that it’s not 1944 anymore and our media landscape/culture and how we interpret said media is much different now than it was then.)

i think it’s a show that presents the characters in a way where they’re easier to accept at face value, and it’s easier to follow that rather than look at a smorgasbord of options and backgrounds and base your opinions off of that. a lot of the original shorts have impressions of the characters rely on nuances, implications, and subtleties that go unspoken. shows and cartoons are much more dialogue driven and objective and often explicitly state how the audience should feel about the characters rather than, again, letting them make those decisions for themselves, which i feel is another point in why the show is so easy to digest.

i’ve rambled WAY TOO MUCH! i again ask once more that you take none of this as fact HAHA. it’s just my pure opinion and outlook, and i’m certainly not without my bias. i’m happy so many people love the show and hope more continue to do so, and i’m enjoying my rewatch of it through a fresh pair of eyes. i just get so caught in particulars that it’s hard for me to enjoy to the fullest extent because of the aforementioned aspects. but again, genuine positivity outweighs negativity, and the fans who love the show and get something meaningful out of it definitely trump my old man yells at cloud bitching. if it gets people into noticing these characters and checking out the originals, that’s all i can ask for

#long post #i am so sorry for my rambling #asks #anonymous

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s-c-r-i-p-s-i · 4 years

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Desperate Measures

[Dead by Baelight’s Kinktober // Day 1: Ritual]

🖤 🖤 🖤 Seeking privacy, you stray a little too far from the campfire to perform your... daily ritual. Ghostface has been watching and decides it’s time for a little audience participation.

🖤 🖤 🖤 Pairing: Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Gender-Neutral AMAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

CW: non-consensual voyeurism, choking, spanking, canon-typical violence, smut

Word Count: 3,219

When you first started this ritual, you weren't planning on making it a habit.

Here, every minute of your life was survival mode. Nonessential functions closed until further notice. You were a heart, some nerves, and sometimes, sometimes a brain.

You didn’t get bored; hah, that was rich - there was always something that needed to be done, even in Limbo. You were perpetually exhausted, yeah, but sleep was an impossibility. For the most part, you didn’t get hungry; you didn’t have to eat anymore - although sometimes you were struck with the overwhelming desire to eat one of the offerings meant for the Entity, just to taste something other than blood for once.

And for fuck’s sake, you thought you didn’t get… You know.

Horny.

See; for all intents and purposes your appetite for anything like that was dead. For the longest time. It wasn’t even something you thought about, so… not on your radar, that you didn’t even mourn it. There were other things to worry about.

And then one day Ghostface came around, and it’s like he slammed a live AED on your libido.

Maybe this place was getting to you. You knew you shouldn’t have found a serial killer so goddamn hot… but when death was just a setback, it kind of fucked with your sense of morality. At least, that’s how you tried to rationalize it.

So, how did it happen? You’re still asking yourself that. Assholes weren’t exactly your type. At least… you didn’t think so. Not back on Earth.

But he had your attention immediately. Mostly because you’d never heard a killer speak before. That is, not to you. And in your own language no less.

And boy, did he speak. (And speak, and speak…)

The first time you faced him, you’d been working on a generator and felt a chill rock your body just as it finally hummed to life. That random little bite at the back of your neck that prickled down your spine. Except here, it was rarely random. Here, it always spelled danger.

“Nice work,” He’d cooed, stepping out of fucking nowhere. You’d later learn that he… tended to do that. “Haven’t seen that in awhile. Must be getting slow.”

It was obvious what he was - the mask was a dead giveaway. Killer. But you didn’t move. You were too stunned that he was actually talking to you. “Thanks,” you’d kind of snorted, “I try.” You were still asking yourself ’what the fuck was that’ to this day.

“Oh...” He breathed. “You talk back. I like that.”

And he sounded so genuinely - if maliciously - interested that you had to assume that didn’t happen often; survivors talking to him. That your shitty little, what, comeback? if you could even call it that - pleased him.

“I hope you run, too.” He’d cocked his head - a not so subtle hint to get this show on the road.

“...Is that what-” He wanted, you were about to ask, although you weren’t sure why. Looking back, you think you were just stalling for time, not for any tactical reasons, but just because this was such a novelty to you.

The thought that maybe, just maybe you already wanted to please him was simply too annoying to entertain.

But he interrupted you.

“Yes.”

And this strange mix of almost playful and ruthlessly efficient would be a running theme in your trials against him. He didn’t waste a whole lot of time - even though he very well could have, with how adept he was. No one was ever spared. You never got the impression he was taking it easy on you, or drawing out a chase, or anything like that. Ninety percent of the words you ever exchanged were while you were looping him, or dangling from his shoulder as he strode towards a hook.

And yet, you still found yourself oh so fucking fascinatined by him. It was definitely conceivable that you were just attention starved. That there wasn’t anything else to it. Even among the survivors, there weren’t many you could count as real friends. And yet...

It was to the point where getting caught almost felt like a reward, because it always carried the positive reinforcement of you being able to banter with him for a minute. Which - you like to think you’d gotten a little better at. Always through bouts of struggling, of course; you tried not to be completely useless. For your own sake, if not your team’s. Getting hooked hurt.

Anyway, it was during one of those struggles, one day, wriggling around in his grip and beating his back and being a general nuisance, that it happened. You’d been bitching about -... you didn’t even remember.

And then he decided, “You know; you’ve become awful mouthy.”

And you were immediately riled up, because if anything, it was him that liked to talk just to hear the sound of his own voice - not that you could blame him, because what a sound it was. But you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get anything out beyond an offended, “You-!” his other hand came down on your ass with a resounding slap.

You’d jolted straight, heat flooding your body at an alarming rate as you suddenly forgot how to string syllables together. Don’t worry. You made several embarrassing, aborted attempts.

“Well.” He mused, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he grabbed your hips to string you up. “Now I know how to shut you up.”

You screamed as the hook pierced through your chest, but he shushed you, breath stuttering with chuckles as he raised a finger to his mask, “Shh, shh, shh, shh, shhh. Don’t ruin it, now.”

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you ended up in the middle of the fucking woods with your hand down your pants after every other goddamn trial.

It started, as all addictions do, with the simple rationalization ‘It’ll just be this one time. Just to get it out of my system.’ How many times have you told yourself that? Only to end up exactly where you were now - breath quivering like a goddamn junkie as you threw your back against a tree and shoved your shaking hand down your drawers.

Your fingers finally wrapping around yourself was both sweet, sweet relief, and at the same time not. Goddamn. Enough.

It’s just, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Him. It. Did it really matter? God you wished he’d done more than spanked you. Done more than promptly tossed you on the hook afterwards. That’s how goddamn bad you had it. He hadn’t even done anything else, but for you, it was the sexual awakening of a century.

You hastily stuffed your shirt in your mouth to grant yourself access to your chest, eyes rolling back as you gripped yourself and began to pump, other hand quickly trailing up your chest to tease your nipple between your index and middle fingers.

Always a frantic means to an end. Mechanical abuse. No time to really even fantasize. Which was fine, because that’s all you seemed to fucking do in between these little affairs.

Infuriatingly, though, this constant throttling of your bits meant you were starting to build up a tolerance to your own rough treatment. Still, you tried to get yourself off as quickly as possible. You knew you’d be missed, and -

You felt a bite at your neck, a chill down your spine. The kind that spelled danger.

“Slowly, slowly, it’s too nice a job to rush.” Ghostfaced chuckled, emerging from behind a tree. You saw the mask first, a shock of white in the darkness that nearly sent you into cardiac arrest.

With all the frenzied, nonsensical urgency of someone who’d just seen a bug crawling on them, you flailed in your rushed attempts to make yourself decent, yanking your hand from your pants, spitting the shirt out of your mouth and trying to frantically smooth everything down. It didn’t even occur to you at first, in your lizard brained panic, that he’d already seen everything. Or that no matter how you fixed your clothes, you still looked thoroughly debauched; panting, blushing all the way down to your chest, and your hair all mussed from the tree you were leaning up against. Oh yeah, and the fucking erection you were still sporting.

Your mouth was still bone-dry from the shirt you’d just had stuffed in your mouth all but two seconds ago. “What’re you-?!”

You had about a million questions on your mind. For one - How was he even here? You thought this kind of pocket realm - the one with the bonfire, the holding cell for survivors in between matches - was a sanctuary. The only place you were safe from these fucks.

“We all come here when it’s our time to play,” He explained smoothly, “We burn our offerings in the same flames as you. You just don’t see us. But we see you.” Ghostface sung, stalking closer.

“Besides. I’ve been here a long time. Long enough to know how to traverse the fog. Useful,” he sighed the word as if conceding something, even though you hadn’t said a word, “when one doesn’t have a home.” He stopped right in front of you. “...Useful for watching what naughty little survivors do when they stray far enough away from the flock.” Even with his face hidden behind that mask, you could feel the accusation in the way he cocked his head and crossed his arms expectantly.

“I-” You choked the word out, a second wave of mortified heat rising.

“But you, you were such a good little lamb until just recently. I wonder what changed.”

“Please just…” Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, you mentally pleaded. You wanted to die. You’d rather melt into the ground than hear another minute of him taunting you. You were far too embarrassed, and far too wound up to suffer through whatever the hell he was monologuing on about. Any other time you might have appreciated the opportunity to talk to him without all the pretense of trials. But not. Right. Now.

“You’re having trouble with that today!” He observed gleefully - about your inability to put together a complete sentence, you assumed. “And usually you’re so vocal. That’s alright. Here. I’ll make it easier on ya.” Reaching for the damp, wrinkled up hem of your shirt, he pulled it up, and two gloved fingers stuffed it back into your mouth, feeding it to you until your mouth was full of cotton and he was satisfied.

You just stood there, stupefied.

“What, do you prefer my other method?” And he- he fucking reared his hand back and mimed a spank in the air. Oh my god. You hated him. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, here,” he chuckled.

Placing his hands on his hips, Ghostface hummed, long and deliberate. “Come to think of it, you’ve been acting awfully strange for the past, oh, say the past few weeks or so. Ever since I…”

Oh. Oh no.

Your glare morphed into a look of sheer horror. That bastard. He knew? Or was he just a goddamn narcissist and automatically assumed it was about him, and just happened to be right on the money? It’s not like you’d been screaming out his name while you did it. Maybe you just weren’t half as subtle as you thought.

“So - here’s how it’s going to go. It’s been fun, just watching you. Really. But I’ve seen this show enough times that I think I deserve some front row seats, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, he just takes you by the chin, forcing you to nod for him. ”Great!” He throws up a hand, “Then we’re all in agreement. Keep going.”

Ghostface crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, settling in.

He wanted you to…? You push at the shirt with your tongue, intending to speak, but he stops you.

“Nope. Nah. Keep that in.”

O...kay. This was probably the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done, but you were still so stunned that it wasn’t... wasn’t quite sinking in yet. In the back of your mind, you were lowkey convinced this was a prank. A joke. That any second he was going to bust out laughing, tell you ’psyche! Oh my god you actually almost did it.’

But that moment never came.

Slowly, and with no small amount of hesitance, you began dipping your hand back in your pants. You half expected him to complain about how long you were taking, but he didn’t say a word. You guess he did tell you to go slow. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking under the mask, his posture impassive. But you eventually reached your sex and gave it a slow, experimental tug, inhaling sharply at how much more sensitive it felt just knowing that his eyes were on you.

You looked back up for any sign of approval, some sign that this is what he wanted but he hadn’t moved an inch. So you kept going, touching yourself, just a lot more slowly and mindfully than before. The thought of going full monkey brain on yourself in front of him was… not appealing. Plus, it didn’t even seem necessary anymore, with the way your stomach was now fluttering at the lightest touch.

“That’s much better,” He said eventually, and the way he cooed it like he was praising you went straight to your core, hips twitching forward. “If you keep going at that thing like a can of spray paint, you’re liable to rip it clean off. And then what’ll be left for me?”

That imagery wasn’t sexy at all, your nose wrinkling as you cringed at him, but then he said that and all you could focus on was the notion that maybe he was planning on doing more than just watching.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, clearly sensing your hope.

“MmfHmfh.” Your sorry sound of agreement was muffled by the shirt in your mouth, so you paired it with a pathetic head nod, eyes pleading.

“Shit,” He laughed, “I was just going to bait and switch you, but if you’re going to be so damn cute… I guess I could be generous. Why don’t you show daddy what he’s working with?”

Maybe you were paranoid, but you felt like that was opening yourself up to get stabbed in the junk. Was it really wise to be so vulnerable around him? You weren’t sure if you trusted him, but Mr. Knife hadn’t made an appearance thus far, and you felt so desperate and full and achy that you just didn’t care.

Hesitantly, you pulled down your pants and drawers down to your thighs, just enough for your cock to spring free, bobbing lightly, crown swollen and shiny and absolutely flushed with arousal.

“Adorable. Now,” He removed the shirt from your mouth, only to press two fingers at your teeth so the end of the finger seams were between them. “Bite.” You did, carefully, and he used the leverage to slip his hand from the glove. Rather than just leave it hanging there, he pushed it back into your mouth like he had the shirt, the disgusting tang of leather and you didn’t want to even think of what else rusting on your tongue.

But it was all worth the sweet relief of his bare fingers finally wrapping around your cock. Your eyes fluttered back almost immediately, moaning around his glove as your head fell back against the tree behind you. Oh, this was wrong, wrong, wrong, but it felt so much better than touching yourself and you’d fantasized about this for so long. It was like honey for your body, the best kind of sweetness building up in your core, every pass of his fingers pushing you closer to overflow.

And it didn’t take long at all, with how long it had been since you’d been touched by another person, with how wound up you already were. You neared the edge fast, your dick twitching in his grip as your hips began to weakly rock, chasing that saccharine end.

And then he stopped.

Motherfucker.

You growled in frustration as your budding climax waned, hips instinctually slanting forward in search of something, anything, and finding nothing. Your gaze flicked up to him, silently asking ’What gives?’

“I said I’d touch you, I didn’t say anything about cumming.”

You nearly spat the glove out and gave him a piece of your mind, but his hand did eventually return, placating you for the time being. Even if his touch was far too light and understimulating at first, waiting until you’d been sufficiently backed down from that edge before building you back up. In due time your head was falling back against the bark, gasping as that feeling in your core started to balloon.

And then he did it again.

This time you really did spit the glove out, catching it in your hand. “I have places to be, Fuckface!”

“Riiiiight.” He drawled skeptically, amusement coloring his tone. “And, it’s Ghostface, actually.”

“Okay, GrossFace, if you don’t fucking finish me off-”

In seconds, his gloved hand was around your throat, leather creaking as he squeezed lightly. “You’ll what? Careful what you ask for, baby, you just might get it,” He warned, pressure slowly increasing. “But you might not like the way I decide to finish you off if you don’t play nice.” His hand eased off your throat, and you were relieved as you were disappointed - because shit, you were actually kind of into it.

“So, let’s go with Danny. Do you think you can manage that, sweetheart?”

Was that… his name? You felt oddly touched that he’d give you that. You hardly knew any of the killers' real names. Not trusting yourself to speak, you nodded, and your reward was his hand coming back to gently wrap his fingers back around you, stroking you slowly.

“Maybe third time’s the charm, huh?”

You weren’t so sure, but you were so backed up it hurt so you let him steer you back to the brink, your sounds growing desperate and so much more audible without anything to muffle them. “Danny, please,” you begged; you could feel yourself nearing that apex again, and if he stopped now you might actually cry.

He hummed, low and thoughtful, but the sound didn’t betray an inkling of emotion.

But he didn’t stop. And soon your climax was crashing over you so hard your knees nearly buckled, the tree at your back the only thing keeping you up as your whole body lurched, dick jumping as it choked up it’s release all over his hand and the forest floor.

Panting, your legs shook as you just stood there a moment, head tipped up to the sky, just trying to recover. You were dimly aware of him snatching his glove back as you felt him yank it from your hand but it barely registered. One by one, questions started to pile up but you were still too whelmed to speak.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Danny spoke first.

“So… Same time tomorrow?”

“I-” You broke, half laughing, half scoffing at the outright absurdity. “Sure.”

You guessed you could start a new ritual.

🖤 🖤 🖤

Thank you for reading!!! 🖤 🖤 🖤 Notes: AHHHHH, I did it, I wrote my first real one-shot. I've been roleplaying for nearly 20 years and it's kind of ruined my motivation for writing by myself but I wanted to break the habit. Thank you to Pugge and Libby for beta'ing this for me, ily both. This piece was written for Day 1 of the 🔞 Dead by Baelight 🔞 Discord server's Kinktober. ((I'm just posting it early because I have 0 self-control)) Anyone over 18 is welcome to join here.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #my writing #oneshot #scripsi

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kessielrg · 3 years

Text

[Kingdom Hearts AU] Maybe Next Year...

Summary: Inspired by @schizophrenichangedman‘s Ventus, in which Sabrina gets a Christmas visitor, and the duo share a silent night together.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,853 words

If you like this story please reblog!

---

It was usually a lie that Sabrina couldn't feel any emotion than pure pessimism. At the moment, her mouth was pursed into a thin line to keep herself from shouting against her adoptive father. His words had stopped making sense a good three minutes ago. She didn't even know why he was still talking to her- the only words she needed to hear was 'I will not be home for Christmas.' The addendum of 'I might need to give you a rain check on New Years too.' was also unneeded, and possibly just as frustrating.

To his credit, he really did try not to have the whole holiday week booked with anyone but family. This was only the second year that he wasn't able to smooth over whomever he needed to be home. But it still hurt. He might as well had reached through the phone and pulled her heart out of her chest.

“Please Sabrina, I know you're mad, and I did everything that I could. I swear on my life.”

“I'm not mad.” she told him. A bold faced lie, but she was a good actor. “If anything, that just means we get to go on an even bigger vacation later, right?”

“Didn't we plan on going back to Paris?”

Even if he couldn't see it, Sabrina shook her head. “Ireland.” she corrected him. “I want to spend the night in one of those historical castles again.”

“You just want to wear a cape and dramatically swish it whenever you go down a flight of stairs.”

“Hell yeah.” she agreed with a soft snort. “Don't forget the dramatic entrances into the ballroom accompanied with slow, romantic waltz music.”

Hearing his laugh was a small comfort. She would have liked it more if he was sitting next to her. After awhile, her father let out a soft sigh.

“I love you, my little princess.” he told her in a gentle tone. There was a small indication of weariness in his voice. Sabrina had to close her eyes in a vain attempt to hold back the waterworks. She hated crying.

“Love you too, you old coot.” she mused back. For a moment, her voice broke- revealing just how much she was trying to hold back. But she didn't give her old man time to comment on it; she hung up the call as quickly as she could. The next moment after, she smacked her head against the cool kitchen counter. Her arms tangled around her head as she let out a low moan of annoyance. She should have known he wasn't going to come around tonight; if he was, he would have been home by now.

She probably would have just given up right then and there had her phone not buzzed. The teen took one look at whoever had messaged her and immediately grimaced. Letting out a grunt, Sabrina took a few steps away from the counter and looked up toward the cabinets. Intuition told her that whatever camera set up to spy on her in the kitchen was placed on top of the fridge. She'd almost assume it was the fridge itself if they had sprung for one of those 'smart' appliances. Thankfully, her father didn't see much use in it. The Alexa, on the other hand, was absolutely bugged for sound input when it was plugged in. That bit had been confirmed to her some months back.

Turning her attention back to her phone, Sabrina flicked through her messages to answer her most persistent pester.

Mister Jekyll: Looks like you're home alone for the holiday, little girl.

Lady Aesthetics: Tell me something I don't know. Fuck off.

Lady Aesthetics: Wait. Why are you awake? There's no way you're pissed because I got ditched.

Mister Jekyll: I thought you wanted me to tell you something you didn't know.

Mister Jekyll: But don't flatter yourself. Space cadet saw something that wasn't meant for him, and you can imagine the results.

Lady Aesthetics: I refuse to believe that it had to do with me.

Mister Jekyll: Fine. Believe what you want. Either way, I've got a surprise for you. You're going to get a visitor around 11 if I leave enough breadcrumbs. You might even get two gifts too. The one is red wrapping paper should not be opened around him though.

Lady Aesthetics: Are you finally gifting me those his-hers guns we talked about the other day? I'm flattered.

Mister Jekyll: Let's just say, you'll be absolutely vibrating the moment you touch it.

Lady Aesthetics: Comforting.

Mister Jekyll: Oh, most definitely.

Mister Jekyll: Above all, you'll have twelve whole hours of not being monitored by me or my comrades.

Lady Aesthetics: So I AM about to be murdered? Not a very poetic date to go out on. I expected more from you.

Mister Jekyll: Unfortunately for you, I've grown attached. I'll have a special punishment for you later. For now, get ready for your visitor.

Raising a rather skeptic eyebrow, Sabrina once more looked up at where she suspected the hidden camera was. Stupid illegal GoPros and their ability to be smaller than a pinkie nail. Shrugging, the teen started to make her way to her room- she apparently was going to have a guest. How fun.

. . .

Sure enough, just a few minutes after 11 PM, the doorbell rang. Not quite sure which version of the blonde haired, blue eyed pester she'd be experiencing tonight, Sabrina opened the door without a look of interest. That quickly changed when her eyes drifted from his face to his hair.

“Oh. My. God.”

Ventus gave her a confused tilt of his head before absently reached for his hair. Half of it had been tied a bright red, and the other side a festive green. When he tilted his head in a certain direction, sparkles in his hair glistened in the porch light. It didn't stop there- Ven was even wearing a tacky Christmas sweater that detailed a large present made of several layers of knit. It look incredibly top heavy, really, and Sabrina had no sense of envy toward him. In his hands were two presents; one was wrapped in green paper and not much bigger than a ring box, the other was a bit longer than that and wrapped in red paper.

“What's that look for?” he questioned, noticing her weird expression as she continued to stare at his hair. A smile then drew on his lips as he then mused, “You scared of a little tinsel?”

“Hardly.” came the undignified huff. “I just suddenly remembered that you got away with that while we were at school. There's no way that your hair complies with the 'only natural hair dye colors' rule in the student handbook.”

“It's natural when you're Christmascore.” he spat back with a little razz of his tongue.

Rolling her eyes, the young woman told him, “Just get inside.” before moving a little out of the way for him to actually enter.

Ventus didn't need to be told twice, practically skipping inside her house before noticing something. Or rather, the lack of something.

“You guys didn't decorate.” he pouted.

“Not true.” Sabrina objected. “We have a tree.”

“Where?!”

“By the staircase,” she informed him before leading him toward the kitchen.

Ven bounced with every step he took. The grin on his face was just bursting with joy in seeing what the tree at Sabrina's house looked like. It had been placed near the L-shaped stairway, well lit with some sparse decorations here and there. He wasn't much of a minimalist, but he supposed it would do. As he set the presents he was holding under the tree, something about it just seemed… off. Ven took a closer look at it; taking a branch between his finger tips and even daring to take a bite out of the ends.

“It's not even a real tree.” he moaned; his pouting starting anew. He then looked to her with an almost puppy-like disappointment. “You know, for someone who came to school in a white limo on her first day of school, you sure do know how to skimp out on the holiday decorations.”

“Well, I'm sorry that I was invited to three different soirees since break started. Two of which occurred outside of this state, so I was away for a good week.”

“But you're rich.” Ven continued to pout. “Shouldn't you have maids and butlers catering to your every whim at every moment of the day? Maybe even set up a Christmas light show spectacular outside your window? What's the point?”

“Don't you dare diss Miss Astra.” Sabrina snapped at him. “She comes by every Wednesday to clean while I'm at school. We gave her three weeks off for the holiday.”

“You can't be that lonely.”

Sabrina's face hardened into something so dark that Ven almost got a shiver up his spine. Looking him dead in the eye, she outstretched her arms to gesture at the entirety of the house.

“Does anything about this house make you think I could be that lonely?” she questioned. Her voice was just as spine chilling, and deeply bitter.

Deflating a little and averting his eyes, Ven let out a small, “Touche.” But he quickly shook his head. He came here in a mission, didn't he? Never would have thought that giving Sabi a little Christmas cheer would be so difficult. Maybe it was time to divert the conversation a bit. Something to eat, maybe. He had skipped dinner tonight out of spite and he was just starting to feel a tiny bit peckish.

“Just one question,” he then tried to ask her, “No candy canes?”

“I've got candy cigarettes.” She offered, her tone still dark, as she went over to one of the kitchen counters. She opened up a drawer and pulled out what certainly looked like a box of cigarettes. As walked back over, she fiddled with the top. She pulled out a white stick from the box then offered the rest to Ven. “100 percent sugar, tastes like chalk, and almost just as smooth as 'em too. You'd never know the difference.”

Ven's eyes widened as he reached over to take a candy cigarette from the box. He immediately stuck the stick of sugar in his mouth and chewed on it a little. It really was like eating chalk- but the candy cigar had a bit more resistance to it when he bit down though. You could almost crack a tooth if you wanted to.

“Well,” he then decided, unsure if he wanted to keep the candy cigarette in his mouth or hold it between his fingers, “Since it's too late to really do some Christmas binging, how 'bout you open up my present? I think you'll like it. Meant to give it to you at school, but I… I got a little side tracked.”

“Sounds like the biggest understatement of the year.” Sabrina snorted. Regardless, sticking her candy cigar in her mouth as well, she went over to the tree and picked up the green gift wrapped present. She then picked up another present from the pile, one that she had personally wrapped herself.

“I have a present for you too.” she told him. “Here, catch.”

Ven let out a surprised yelp as she tossed the large square gift his way. He was just barely able to catch it with both hands. As eager as he now was to open it, he patiently waited for Sabrina to come back over. He took her cue as she sat down by the tree, backs against the wall that bordered the living room and kitchen.

“On the count of three.” he playfully told her. “One… two...”

Neither of them waited for him to say three before tearing into the presents.

Sabrina was not surprised to know that Ven's gift was in a ring box. She just didn't expect to open that up to find a gold plated necklace inside. The charm at the end was of a rather simple looking crown. But still, it looked nice. Giving a moment's worth of thought, Sabrina started to take the necklace out of the ring box. Ven next to her was rather disappointed with what his present was.

“It's a book.” he said in a flat voice. Sabrina made a small sound of inquisition as she looked over at him for a moment.

“A portfolio, actually.” she told him as she put the necklace on. “Open it up and skip the first few pages. The foreword gets kinda winded.”

Still bummed at what appeared to be a bum gift, Ven did as he was told. The foreword did look winded -lasting about five pages front and back- before Ven saw something that nearly made his jaw drop. In the book were full color photographs of natural forests and creeks. The print of the photographs were so pristine that Ven felt like he could just jump in.

“I love it.” he said in a near whisper. “It looks so… familiar.” He looked over at Sabrina before giving a little hum. Sabrina was looking over the necklace as it hung around her neck, falling just in the middle of her breast. Between the lighting of the tree illuminating a bit of her hair, and just her near blank face, something about this moment didn't feel real. And when things didn't feel real, Ven just had to make sure that they were. Ergo, it should not have been a surprise that he placed his head on her shoulder.

Sabrina partially came out of her line of thought to glare at him. She tried to make a half hearted attempt at shaking him off as she told him, “Get your tinsel head off of me.”

“Nope.” he replied with a smirk.

“I'll lay on you if you don't move.”

“I dare ya.”

That was when Sabrina gave one very precise shove, almost knocking Ven completely off to the side if he didn't bob back over. As he sat up straight again, Sabrina had placed her head on his shoulder.

“Checkmate.” she mused. Ven laughed a bit as he moved his head a little to catch a whiff of her hair. Lilac. She always smelled like lilacs. Or lavender. Sometimes both. Too bad she didn't let him indulge in whatever shampoo scent she bathed with for long. She sat back up and stared absently at the ceiling.

“How are you getting home tonight?” she asked him with an almost genuine curiosity. “I doubt any of them actually brought you over, and I sure as hell am not driving you back in the dark.”

Ven recoiled slightly at the idea. “Dunno,” he decided. There was a small pause before he added, “Fuck them.”

Sabrina looked over at him and raised a neatly manicured eyebrow.

“Your grandfather came home?”

“How did you know?” he asked, quite darkly. He refused to look at her- instead bringing his knees closer to his chest. He wasn't going to get mad about it -not yet-, but it was still a sore spot.

Sabrina offered up a callous shrug before admitting, “I guessed. Sorry your family's shittier than mine.”

“Do you think your old man could adopt me? You're home alone so often that if you went insane, no one would even notice.”

“Oh, he'll notice.” Sabrina mused, taking a new candy cigarette out of the box. “You think I'm good at reading people? Take three guesses on who I got it from.”

“Really?” he asked in a small wonder- his eyes hungrily looked at the candy cigarette box, but fully eating one proved to be his allotment for any food at the moment. Talking about family was not helping the growing nausea either.

“It's one thing to be born from money,” Sabrina agreed, giving the candy cigar a few licks before sticking it in her mouth. It didn't long for her to pull it back out with a small 'pop' before adding, “It's another to be barred from the family legacy and still try to make it big. I don't envy what the old man does- let alone the people he has to deal with. Stuff like not making it home for a major holiday rarely happens. He even told me once that he doesn't even accept vacation pay from it.”

“Do you believe him?”

For a long time, she didn't answer him. When she did answer, her voice was small but toneless.

“Do you know how good I can get at lying?”

“Yeah?”

“Take three guesses on who I got it from.”

“Oh...” was all the reply he could give. Slowly, Ven relaxed his legs against the carpet and once more brought his attention to the photography book.

“Hey Sabi?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe next year will be less shitty for both of us.”

For a moment, Sabrina didn't say a thing. Instead she carefully started to snake her arm around his and hugged it. In a voice that didn't entirely sound like her own, she mumbled back at him, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Merry Christmas, Sabi.”

“Merry Christmas, Ven.”

8 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

For the meet ugly prompts: #27? I feel like it has a lot of potential to be really funny for the OT4 :)

27: we have one night stands with roommates and sneak out of the house at the same time.

I interpreted “sneak out” kinda broadly. This is right on the line between SFW and NSFW: No sex, but it gets hot and heavy at the end.

Duck wakes up under moth-patterned covers, rubs his forehead as he grabs his phone from his pants on the floor. Shit, he didn’t mean to sleep this late, that could make things awkward if the guy from last night wanted him gone.

The bedroom door open and closes and Indrid, his hookup, enters in a yellow and pink bathrobe, holding a silver packet.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’. Uh, sorry, guess I was real tired.”

“We did do rather a lot last night.” Indrid grins, sitting down on the bed next to him, “here, my roommate is making breakfast sandwiches. I had him make you one. Do not take the pack as a sign you must leave, I just asked him to wrap it in case you were in a hurry.”

“Thanks. I should be gettin goin’, Winnie’s probably missin’ breakfast.”

“One musn’t keep such a noble creature waiting.” Indrid hands him the sandwich. He’d shown the taller man photos of his cat last night both because he dotes on the flufflball and because it got Indrid to scoot closer to him.

“Yeah, she can get in a mood....uh, you seen my underwear?”

Indrid scans the room, red glasses sitting on his forehead and giving Duck a perfect look at his brown eyes.

“Ah, here we are.” He reaches under the small desk covered in art supplies, “my, those got some distance.”

“You were naked, I was in a hurry.” Duck mumbles, making Indrid bark a laugh as he brings him the rest of his clothes.

When he steps out of the bedroom, he spots a tall man with a short, coppery beard standing at the kitchen stove. That must be the roommate, but Duck’s eye is drawn to the man exiting the other bedroom. His short black hair is mussed, there’s a pillowmark beneath his high cheekbone on one side, and his dress shirt is rumpled.

The other man does not seem pleased to be seeing three people in front of him instead of one.

“Oh hey babe, you’re up.” The roommate turns, beaming, “made you breakfast, do you want some coffee? I can put it in a to-go up if, uh, if you need to leave.”

“Yes, thank you. I, um, I should be going.”

The roommate smiles, quickly puts together a sandwich and coffee cup, complete with cream and sugar. The other man sips it and sighs, “you remembered.”

“‘How do you like your coffee’ isn’t just a cheesy line for me, babe. Gotta make sure you enjoy yourself start to finish.”

“Damn, that was smooth” Duck whispers as Indrid walks him to the door.

“Agreed. Though I rather enjoyed your one about pollination last night. By far the most creative response to these I’ve received” he points to the tattooed moth just visible on his shoulder. His wide grin goes shy, “I did really have a wonderful time, Duck.”

“Me too. Lemme, uh, lemme know if you wanna meet up again?”

Indrid nods, waves goodbye as Duck heads off the porch and down onto the sidewalk. He eats as he walks, decides Indrid has good taste in roommates because that one makes a mean breakfast sandwich.

He gets to the bus stop, late September morning still crisp with the coming fall. Pulling out his phone, he discovers it’s dead. He did use it a lot last night, on their date, but only because Indrid was so clearly interested in what he had to show him. Why a guy who does tattoos for a living thinks a fella who’s a nerd for plants is interesting, Duck will never know. He’s just glad he does.

Music out of reach, he sits and listens to the cardinals and kinglets calling in the trees. Someone sits down next to him, aluminum foil reflecting the sun off their hand and into his face.

It’s the guy. The one from Indrid’s apartment.

Should Duck tell him he has a big bruise on his neck? He probably knows, right? Then again, he was in a hurry?

“Hey, uh, don’t mean to be weird or nothin’, but you got a little uh-” He taps his neck and the man whacks his hand over the mark.

“Shit”

“Someone you’re worried’ll notice?”

“What exactly are you implying?” The man glares at him, blues eyes going from charmingly flustered to suspicious in an instant.

“Nothin, just seem real worried for somethin that happens to almost everyone some time or another.”

“I like keeping my private life private. I don’t want random people knowing what I like in bed.” He snaps

“Okay, okay, jeez man, sorry I mentioned it.”

They fall silent as Duck’s bus approaches, and both stand to board it. Just his luck, this is route to the capitol square with the massive farmer’s market, so he and the mister touchy end up squished in next to each other.

Two stops in, the man murmurs, “ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rude. I’m, uh, I don’t usually do things like, well, like hooking up with someone I meet on Grindr.”

Something about the way he says it, like he’s afraid he’ll get in trouble, brushes away Duck’s annoyance.

“No shame in havin a good time with someone. Wait, shit, was it a good time? Did somethin happen?”

“Oh no, nono,” the man hurriedly shakes his head, “it was just what I needed. Barclay is a great guy. I just feel like it was too easy, that getting that lucky on my first try is a sign something will go wrong.” He gives Duck a resigned smile, “in case you havent noticed, I’m an overthinker. Are you, damn it what’s his name, Indrid’s boyfriend?”

“Nah. He comes to draw in the arboretum where I work, we been kinda flirtin the last few weeks, and yesterday I finally said fuck it and asked if he wanted to get a drink later.”

“He’s certainly...distinct looking. In a good way, I mean.”

“Yeah, he is.” Duck smiles, thoughts drifting off to the memory kissing him gently as they finally fell asleep, his face captivating in the dim of the room, “probably see him again. Assumin’ he wants to see me, I guess.”

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

“I am supposed to wait until he arrives home to text him, correct?” Indrid pushes his phone as far away as possible to remove temptation.

“Maybe? I dunno man, all those rules about texting and shit are designed to sell books and bad youtube channels.”

“But I don’t want to come off as possessive or clingy.”

“Believe me bud, I know.” Barclay turns his phone around so Indrid can see the two lines sitting in the “draft” section, “I’ve been writing and re-writing this for five minutes because I want Joseph to know I’d for sure be down to see him again but there’s no pressure.” He sets Indrid’s refilled coffee down on the table. They trade a look, then burst out laughing.

“Fuck, guess we both had a good time last night huh?”

“Very. Duck remains as wonderful as I hoped and I have not enjoyed sex that much since, hmmm, well, since the last time you and I were together.”

“That poor desk.”

“May it rest in peace.” Indrid sips from his mug, “Joseph is quite charming. You have excellent taste in men.”

“That a compliment to him or to you?” Barclay fluffs Indrid’s hair as he passes by him.

“Mostly him.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, little moth.” A kiss on the head this time before Barclay heads to the shower. Indrid gets his sketchbook, turns on some mindless cooking show and settles on the couch.

Eventually Barclay calls from his room, “Indrid? Been about forty-five minutes, bet he’s home by now.”

Indrid springs up, grinning, and grabs his phone.

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

Duck was out downtown when the rain started, which is why he’s now hunkered down in the cafe by the capitol in hopes of waiting out the storm. He’s not the only one with this idea, and he’s made sure to make the chair across from him obviously empty in case someone needs a spot.

“Hello again. Do you mind?” It’s the blued-eyed guy again, dressed for work in a suit and dress shoes. Duck hasn’t seen him since that first morning, in spite of going back to Indrid’s place multiple times over the last three weeks.

“Go for it.” Duck scoots his coffee to the side so the man can set his mug down. He pulls out his phone, but can’t quite focus; he keeps wanting to look across the table.

“How are things going with Indrid?”

“Real good--wait, how did you know he an I were still-”

“Barclay’s mentioned you once or twice. And your name is pretty memorable.”

‘It’s a nickname.”

“That makes a bit more sense. Mines on the other end of things; there are a lot of Josephs in the world.” He sips his cinnamon-scented drink, sets it down again, “so, what do you do?”

“I’m a ranger over in the arboretum. You?”

“I work for an organization that checks up on businesses to be sure they’re meeting worker health and safety laws.”

Duck watches the rain out the windows, wondering if Joseph wants to keep talking or is just being polite.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Did Indrid tell you about him and Barclay?”

“Yeah, ‘bout a week ago. He said he was hopin’ he and I could get more serious, but that he wanted me to know the two of them had a sorta, uh, fuckbuddies thing goin’ so I could make an informed choice.”

“That’s more or less where Barclay and I are at. Um, how do you feel about it?”

“I’m okay with it. I ain’t interested in anyone else right now, but when I thought about it, Indrid havin a thing with Barclay ain’t stopped him from bein’ amazin’ to me and I’m fallin’ hard for him. I don’t feel like some kind of side piece or whatever. I just feel like I’m headin for somethin good with a guy who has a casual partner. Did it bug you?”

“No” Joseph shakes his head, “which confuses me. I, um, I have trouble releasing control in much of my life. I assumed it would freak me out to learn I wasn’t the only partner in someone’s life. But when Barclay told me it didn’t really bother me. He even offered to talk to Indrid about being only friends if that was what I needed. It’s been awhile since someone was so quick to think about my wants and feelings when dropping unexpected news on me. Plus, I’ve spent a little time with Indrid when we’ve been over there, and I like him. He clearly cares about Barclay, just like I do, and in some way that makes me happy. Is that weird?”

“Not really an expert on weird. But I think you’re overthinkin’ things again.”

A small laugh, “True. Help me think about something else. Tell me...tell me what your favorite part of work is.”

Duck’s surprised at the interest, but gets glimpse of pleading hope, og someone a little hungrier for connection than he’s letting on, and finds no desire to refuse.

“Prairie restoration, it’s fascinatin….”

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

Duck’s not surprised to see Joe’s name come up on screen; the two of them have been hanging out more, both as friends and on double dates with Barclay and Indrid. He’s learned that his friend is a stealth-nerd beneath his professional veneer, that he likes game nights as much as Duck does, and that he makes a certain sound when he cums (that last one he learned on accident; he was snuggled up with an under-the-weather Indrid in the living room when Joe and Barclay got home from a date).

Joe: Are you busy tonight?

Duck: Nope.

Joe: Do you want to go to the “Adult Swim” at the children’s science museum? I got tickets a week ago, but Barclay got called in to work tonight.

Duck: Sure, sounds lie a good time.

Joe: See you at the museum at 7?

Duck replies in the affirmative, goes to pick out something less grubby than his crossfit clothes to wear. Maybe the short-sleeve button up with the whales; Joe mentioned he like it.

His phone buzzes.

Sugar: Busy tonight?

Duck: Yeah, going to the museum with Joe since Barclay has to work.

He realizes how this might sound, begins rapidly typing several explanations or offers to not if Indrid doesn’t want him too, but his boyfriend beats him to it.

Sugar: Oh yes, I remember him mentioning that. Good, I’m glad the tickets won’t go to waste. Have fun, my sweet, please take picture of any interesting bugs for me if there is an entomology section <3

Duck: Will do, sugar.

He signs with a kissy face, gets two black hearts and a kissy face back.

The Adult Swim is wonderful; the museum is artfully lit, there’s snacks everywhere, and even a fancy cocktail included with admission. He and Joe clink glasses, wander through the exhibits, laughing and playing with the interactive exhibits. There are no bugs, but Duck takes pictures of the light exhibit, which feature interesting color patterns he might like for tattoo inspiration.

They’ve just finished fucking around in the paleontology exhibit, and Joe is looking through a viewfinder that shows him how a triceratops saw the world. Duck sneaks up behind him, growls in his ear, “didn’t spot the t-rex in time.”

“If you plan on eating me, we should at least head into the bathroom.” Joe winks as he turns, heading out onto the balcony to look out on the city. Duck knows that if he follows him out there right now, he’ll kiss him.

“Be right out, gonna go grab some more of those mini-pies.”

Joe nods to show he heard him as he pushes open the door. Duck hopes he doesn’t see him take several deep breaths to get his imagination under control before he goes off in search of an edible distraction.

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

“Doors open!”

“Oh, hey man, Indrid home yet?”

“No, it’s Thursday the 12th, so the studio is prepping like crazy for tomorrow.”

“Shit, that’s right.”

“Cookie? I just made them.”

“Thanks--holy shit that’s good.”

“Thanks, I’ve been trying to nail the chocolate chip and potatoe chip recipe.”

“Think you might--aw fuck, ‘Drid just texted, he’s gonna be another hour.”

“You can chill here if you want. Uh, I’ve got Super-Smash Bros, if you wanna play.”

“Aw hell yeah.”

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

“Good morning, Joseph.”

“Gahoh, hi Indrid. I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”

“There’s no rush. I certainly don’t mind your company. I believe there are left over cinnamon rolls in the fridge, if you would like.”

Joseph gathers a coffee cup and a roll on a plate, sits down on the couch, and finds his pocket buzzing.

“Here” Indrid takes the plate.

“Thank you. Looks like it’s my sister...oh, she got a new dog, do you want..” He stops as Indrid holds out a piece of the cinnamon roll on the fork. Hesitates, then opens his mouth and lets Indrid feed him. He starts showing him pictures as he does, Indrid commenting and laughing and, every so often, murmuring, “good boy” when he takes a bite.

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

“Ohfuck, shit, sorry!” Duck covers his eyes as Indrid quickly closes the front door.

“Nono, fuck, sorry, that’s on us, thought you guys weren’t home until later.” Barclay’s apology is underscored by the sound of a zipper closing.

“It’s quite alright, no harm done, Joseph you look very nice like that, carry on.” Indrid pulls Duck into his room, both of them snickering and blushing as Duck pushes him down onto the bed.

“My my, someone’s wound up.”

“Makes two of us.” Duck grinds down on him, Indrid gasping and grinning as he arches his back.

“Indeed. Now get that handsome face down here. I have some things I wish to do to it.”

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

The giant stop motion monster continues rampaging on the screen as Duck loops his arm over Indrid’s shoulder. The first snowstorm of the year has come early, so they opted to switch their double date to a monster movie double feature (curated by Joe) in the apartment. Beneath their shared blanket, Indrid’s hand strokes his belly, skating down to the front of his jeans in teasing bursts.

On the other side of the couch, Barclay has started kissing Joe’s cheek, the blue-eyed man sighing and turning to kiss him back.

This is not a new situation for them. The last few weeks they’ve gotten more comfortable cuddling and making out in the same space as each other. Duck’s not complaining; hearing both Indrid and Joe gasping and sighing near him makes him hotter than a July afternoon.

Indrid bumps his cheek with his nose, and Duck turns for a kiss. He gets one, but he also gets a firmer stroke down his cock, making him moan. Indrid smirks into the kiss, does it again, then a third time, Duck gripping the front of his white tank top with a groan.

“Maybe we, uh, should dip out on the movie.” He murmurs.

“We can” Indrid purrs, kissing him again, “but Joseph seems to be enjoying the show.”

Duck whips his head around; Joe is looking at the two of them as he leans against Barclay’s chest, between his legs, expression moving from desire to surprise to hope over and over again. Barclay, unbothered, continues kissing his neck and murmuring in his ear, the blush on his cheeks rising each time the larger man does so.

“Or perhaps he’s envious?” Indrid cocks his head, “would you like your hand to be here instead of mine, Joseph?”

Joe’s normal eloquence is nowhere to be found, his eyes flicking between the three other men so quickly Duck worries he’ll sprain something.

“I asked you a question, pet.” Indrid sharpens his tone on the last word and Joe whimpers. Duck has zero interest in Indrid ever calling him that name; but hearing it in his lilting, gently demanding tone directed at Joe sends desire zinging through him.

“C’mon, babe, be a good boy and answer.” Barclay nips his boyfriend’s ear.

“Yes. Or, or, more accurately, I’d trade places with either of you. If that’s, would it be, do either of you?” He looks back at Barclay, who smiles tenderly and runs a thumb up his cheek.

“Okay with me if it’s okay with them.”

“Do you want it as well, my sweet?” Indrid tilts up his glasses so he can look Duck in the eye. The affection in those brown eyes makes the T.V, the moon, the stars look dim.

“Hell yeah.”

Indrid crooks his finger and Joe clambers the short distance on the couch to kneel by Duck.

“How shouldMMmmmmm!”

Duck gets a whiff of aftershave as Indrid yanks Joe forward by his shirt, kissing him and squishing Duck between them. The angle is awful but he doesn’t give fuck, buries his face into Joe’s neck, kissing the point where he feels his pulse moving like mothwings, mouthing and nipping at the skin as he slides one hand up the front of his shirt and the other down the back of his pants. When he squeezes his ass Joe squeaks and Indrid breaks the kissing, laughing.

“I didn’t know you had such noises in you, pet. It’s quite endearing.”

“Indrid, Duck, please, I want, I want to, oh fuck it.” He pulls back just enough to not jab his knee into Duck’s belly as he falls on him, kissing him so hard and so long Duck’s chest tightens and his vision narrows. The taller pulls away long enough to breathily moan his name before feasting on his mouth again.

“Yes, he does elicit such feelings, oh, hello.” Indrid giggles, and Duck can just see that Barclay is now on the floor, kneeling before the pale-haired man, kissing the skin exposed by his shirt before rubbing his beard across it, making Indrid laugh harder.

“Can’t let you have all the fun, little moth.” Barclay rumbles

“I can think of many things you can let me haveAH, oh, oh goodness, I forgot how much you like to bite.”

Barclay growls, reminding Duck of something important. He pushes Joe backwards, clambering atop him and pulling his shirt up as he does, stuffing the hem of it between those perfect lips.

“Christ lookit you” he runs his palms up Joe’s body, the man arching and writhing beneath him, “you look like a goddamn fuckin centerfold, you’re so fuckin perfect.”

Joe’s moan is loud even through the shirt, and much needier than before. He grins, crawling onto him , “guess I ain’t the only one who likes praise in bed.”

Joe shakes his head, whining eagerly through the make-shift gag. Duck growls again, attacks his chest with bites, leaving an especially hard one when Indrid grabs his ass without warning.

While Joe clearly enjoys the increase in pain, his responding thrash is sudden enough to send him and Duck rolling off the couch in a jumble. Someone’s foot catches Barclay in the shoulder, knocking him back onto the rug.

“Whoops.” Duck says to the ceiling, laugh bubbling up from his chest and bounding about the room.

“Sorry.” Joe says to the floor, chuckling as he sits up.

“That was very graceful.” Indrid teases from his spot on the couch, only for Barclay to rear up and pull him down on top of him, the thinner man squawking indignantly. As they all disentangle and sit up, Duck looks around their little circle of flushed skin and mussed clothes.

“So, uh, that happened.”

“Indeed.” Indrid scoots next to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Is everyone, like, okay that it did? I mean, we seemed okay and said yes and shit but is okay in like a bigger sense?” Barclay holds out his hand and Joe takes it.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Do we, uh, wanna talk about what this is gonna look like?”

They all nod, and spend the next two hours hashing out the details of their newly forming polycule. Duck and Barclay agree they’d rather be metamours, everyone else will be partners, and that everyone should probably get some sleep before diving into the do’s and don’ts of what they each want from sex.

Barclay and Indrid build a makeshift bed on the floor by the T.V, Joe and Duck on the inside with Barclay and Indrid on the outside.

Duck drifts off to sleep with his head on Joe’s chest and Indrid’s arms around him. He knows they still have things to work out, that there will be hiccups. But for now, he’s happy to lay here, safe and loved, with his boyfriends.

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #agent stern/barclay/indrid cold/Duck newton #agent stern/barclay #sternclay #agent stern/duck newton #Indrid cold/Barclay #meet ugly

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writinginthedarkwood · 4 years

Note

"If I Killed Someone For You" by Alec Benjamin reminds me of Yanderes! Kaminari, Kirishima, or Deku. Would you do a writing piece of them based on this song?

I love this, hopefully it’s what you were looking for. :) I chose Denki because I don’t see a lot of yandere stuff for him.

Warnings: blood, typical yandere shenanigans.

Denki pried his fingers off of the edge of the sink and reached for the faucet with shaky hands. The water trickled out cold, he filled his palms and let the water run over them, the blood hadn’t started to dry yet. It ran down the drain dark and dirty against the white porcelain. “It never gets any easier...” He turned his head and looked at the mess on the floor. That pathetic mess hadn’t moved in a few minutes, but he never liked to have his back turned on a body too long. He laughed and kicked his stomach. The body slumped forward with more blood oozing out of his mouth, but it didn’t make a sound. “Yup, still dead.”

Yeah it never got any easier, Denki thought.

The cleanup, that is.

The young man filled up the bucket of water with soap and scrubbed at the walls. The blood came off easy, the difficult part is getting the blood out of the rags. He’ll probably burn them, that seemed to work pretty good last time. “Your honor, I had a moment of weakness, but it will never happen again. My service as a hero should prove that I love this city...” Denki muttered to himself as he ripped the rubber gloves off and tossed them into the trash bag with all of the bloody cloths. The body was wrapped in a plastic tarp, out of the way for now, but he had to hurry and get it on the street before too much of the leaked out.

Kaminari caught a moment of himself in the reflection of the metal bucket, he bent down and studied his face. He hooked his lip and pulled on it to look at his teeth. He touched his hair, fixing it back in place and smiled at his reflection. “You need some sleep Kaminari, you barely look like yourself.” He smirked again and winked.

His phone beeped in his pocket.

Her

Would she be devastated when the police call to tell her the news, or will she be relieved he’s finally gone? Denki wondered and checked the text. “Hey can I call you after work? I’m having a rough day... :(” Denki thought he could cry, reaching out to him after a long day? She really must love him, maybe she knew somehow that he’s been her protector, the one she can always rely on.

Would you love me even more if you knew it was me who got rid of that scum bag?

“Another body on this side of town, a serial killer?” Denki’s old friend touched her cheek and chin as she asked the chief of police. Denki shook his head in disbelief. “Absolutely disgusting, but I don’t think so Headphone Jack. It doesn’t look like it was well thought out, maybe a robbery?”

Jiro nodded her head in agreement. “He’s dressed like he was carrying a lot of cash, I’m not sure what he would be doing all the way over here. I mean, he just looks out of place.” The police had the entire street blocked off with flashing lights. The ambulance is moving the body in a bag, the sirens on and blaring. The detectives approached the hero pair. “Thank you for calling us you two, if you hadn’t called I doubt anyone would have reported this for awhile. Things have a tendency to just disappear out this way.” The detective fixed his hat on his head to tip at the heroes. “I think you’re right Chargebolt, a mugging gone wrong. This case will probably turn up cold, his wallet is empty but all his belongings are with him. Nothing to really trace to a pawn shop around here, so unless we find prints on the murder weapon, we don’t have a lot to go off of.”

Good luck finding a print on that crow bar, you won’t.

“Just a mess sir, I’m so sorry. Do we have an ID on him?” Denki asked the detective with another shake of the head. “His ID was still on him, so was his office card. He works on the other side of town.”

“Where at?” Jiro asked with a stern face. “Maybe we can dig around and find out what he was doing out here.”

“He worked at the Law Firm by that one sushi bar...” The detective thought for a moment. “Don’t get too involved in this, you know those big office types. Always hiding something. He probably was over here for something shady, and got caught up in a mess. Let us handle it, you two head home.”

Denki turned the keys in his car over and felt the air conditioning hit his hot cheeks and took a deep breath. Such a rush every time, nobody would ever suspect sweet, kinda ‘dumb’ Kaminari for anything so heinous. He drove out of the bad side of town wearing his favorite disguise.

His hero costume.

He hummed to the radio as he headed for your neighborhood, you should be getting home from work any time now.

His phone rang, right on time. He waited a second so you wouldn’t think he was staring at his phone waiting for you to call. “Kaminari.” He said casually into the phone.

“H-hey Chargebolt, it’s me... Y/N.”

Your voice was so sweet, so gentle. You sounded tired.

“Hey you! You know you can call me Denki, I told you that!”

You laughed a small giggle and trailed off for a second. “Oh yeah, sorry. How was your day?”

Denki talked for a little bit, saying there was a few weird things at work but nothing he wasn’t used too. “But enough about me, why was your day so rough?”

“One of my bosses never showed up to work today, and they threw all of his work load onto me. I had to give a presentation I knew nothing about, and meet with a client who wouldn’t talk to me because I’m not a lawyer yet... I don’t even work with him often, I don’t know why I had to pick up his work.” You sighed into the phone. “I guess I’m just tired, I don’t even feel like cooking but I haven’t eaten all day.”

Denki grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. That bastard is messing with her from the other side, he smashed that bug to make things easier for her, not worse.

“You know what you need?” Denki asked, forcing his tone to be pleasant. “What’s that?” You asked sweetly into the phone. “Some takeout. Want me to swing by with some food?”

“Oh no, you’re so busy I could never ask you to do that.” He couldn’t see you, but your face blushed profusely. THE Chargebolt wanted to come to your apartment?

“I’m never too busy for such a good friend, I’m not far, I’ll come by.”

You looked through your peephole, surprised. You barely recognized your friend. You swung the door open quickly and gasped. “What happened to you!?”

You touched his face, he looked pale and exhausted. He held up a brown paper bag and a bottle of wine. “Aw come on, I can’t look that bad!” You grabbed his jacket and quickly pulled him inside. “Come sit down, you look like you just saw a ghost.” You took the food from him and set it on your coffee table. He plopped down on your couch like he had been there a million times.

Because well, he had. He loved spending time here with you. You had never invited him inside, but he didn’t think you would mind if he slipped in for a bit while you slept. You’re such a sweet person, you’d want him to be comfortable.

You sat down beside him and opened the bag, the two of you talked and ate together. He had you laughing so hard a noodle almost came out of your nose. Things got quiet for a second after the both of you yawned, I guess it was getting a little late. You turned the T.V. on and a breaking news segment caught your eye.

“We’ll increase our patrols of the area to try and increase the safety of all the cities residents, for now, don’t walk alone at night and keep your smarts about you.” “Hey... that’s you!” You looked at him in shock. Your bosses face popped up on the screen next to the news reported who was interviewing the electric hero. “Wh-why is my boss on there?”

Denk sat up and put a hand on your back. “That’s... that’s the victim I found on the south side of town today.” Your eyes teared up and you gripped onto Denki. He pulled you into a hug and you shook in his arms. “Why would somebody kill him? I mean he could be a jerk to work with, but nothing to murder someone over.”

Denki tensed up a bit. The fact that you were in his arms, this should be the best day of his life but you seem... upset?

You pulled away from him and looked up with puffy red cheeks. “Denki I’m scared. A woman on the third floor is missing, and- and the mechanic from IT was found with his throat cut a month ago.” You stood up and paced the floor. “Not to mention my-my...” You stopped talking and crumbled back into Denki’s arms. “I can’t do this, I know this sounds ridiculous but I feel like I’m in danger.”

“You can’t be alone right now...” Denki rubbed your back and cradled you. “I think you should come stay with me for a little while...”

“Wh-what?” You asked confused. Denki touched your face softly and gave your side a playful shock. You giggled and he hugged you again. After a moment he touched your shoulders firmly and looked you in the eye. “If you think you’re in danger, you should come stay at my place. It’s in a nicer part of the city, and I can keep an eye on you.”

You thought for a minute. Your boyfriend has only been dead for six months, but in that time you and Denki had gotten really close. Like he was sent by an angel to help you. “I really appreciate it, but I should probably stay here. I think it would silly for me to pack everything up and run, I mean nothing is going to happen to me, right?”

Denki smirked, but he wasn’t happy. “Are you serious right now Y/N?”

His tone change surprised you and you stepped away from him in reflex. “What’s wrong?” You picked up your glass of wine that you had been neglecting and took a big sip. You’ve never really been a huge drinker, but the bitter taste gave you something to focus on.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!?” Denki gripped his hair and smiled at you. “You don’t understand what I’ve been doing for you. I really stick my neck out for you, and you never seem to care about how it makes ME feel.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I- I’m sorry I know you’re busy but I thought we...” You didn’t know what the two of you are. He mostly kept your relationship a secret, he didn’t want you to be in the press at all. But you felt like the two of you are really close, you’d never take advantage of him.

“You still don’t get it do you? Everything I do is to make you happy. Make your life easier, and you don’t even seem to notice.”

He took his jacket off and threw it on the couch. You took another step away from him and gripped your wine glass harder. You’d never seen him act this way before. You took another gulp.

“D-denki there’s something on your shirt.” He looked down, he hadn’t noticed but a few specks of blood had gotten on his ribs. You stepped closer and grabbed it, gently touching the blood stain. “I-is this from work?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Denki said nothing, he reached out and touched your shoulder.

His hands smelled like bleach.

“I think you... you should go.” You said trying to sound firm, swallowing the rest of your wine.

“I think I should stay the night, you look tired.” He said in a soft voice.

Your head was swimming, your eyes feeling very heavy all of a sudden.

You looked down at the table and saw that he hadn’t taken one sip of his drink, which wasn’t really like him.

“Denki what did you do?” You stumbled backwards and dropped the glass onto the floor. You reached for your cell phone but dropped it before losing control of your legs. He smiled and caught you in his arms. He planted a kiss on your forehead. “Denki did you kill my boss?” You tried to cry out but you couldn’t move, he lifted you into his arms. “Oh honey, shhhhh.” He laid you on the couch. He didn’t have long to pack some of your things up and scrub any trace of him ever being here. “I was hoping you’d be more understanding, happy even that I removed all of these messes from your life.”

You choked on your words and fought to keep your eyes open. “All of these-?”

No he didn’t mean...

Denki crouched down beside you spoke softly. “That boyfriend of yours? He didn’t even yell out for you when he was dying on the sidewalk. He said that other girls name... my blood boiled, how could he not see that he had the most perfect woman in the world waiting for him at home?” He scoffed. “That’s when I stomped out his teeth. He didn’t deserve to ever say your name anyway.” Denki stuck his tongue out at you, showing off his teeth. You wanted to scream, but your eyes shut.

You felt his lips touch yours, before everything was black.

I didn’t put the lyrics in here but I definitely alluded to just about all of them. What did you think?? I had fun writing this one.

#yandere #Kaminari Denki #bnha yandere #denki kaminari x reader #yandere denki #bnha fic #bnha request

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redschillzone · 4 years

Text

Blow Me Away (Iden Versio x Reader)

(Gif found here!)

Pairing: Iden Versio x Reader

Word Count: 4.0k Words

Warnings: None

Summary: Inferno Squadron finds themselves in a bit of trouble while Reader is recovering from a serious crash. Instead of taking the time to heal, Reader has other ideas to help the Squadron out.

A/N: Another Iden request! I hope you enjoy! Requests are open!

“Would you just lay still? And stop messing with the IV, it’s there for a reason.” Iden snapped at you as you shifted around on the medical bed for the fifth time since you arrived, giving a small huff as you gave her a look. You couldn’t help but yet again give a small adjustment to the IV attached to your arm. The bed was uncomfortable, so it wasn’t your fault that you wanted to try to make it somewhat comfortable. You and Iden had just arrived back from the mission with the other members of Inferno squad and the first thing she did was rush you to the medical bay; You were barely conscious at the time but now you were wide awake and hyped up on a small dose of pain medication. The mission with the squad was to be just a simple recon, maybe even a search and destroy if you had found the Rebel’s base but it seemed the Rebels were expecting the attack and were very much prepared to fight back; You were in the middle of a dog fight with a few x-wings on Endor when your engine was shot out and you were sent spiraling out of control. Your crash wasn’t the prettiest thing Iden had seen but when she saw your ship go down she wiped out the remaining x-wings and was by your crash site in seconds, Hask and Del soon followed once they confirmed the area was clean and safe to land. She was surprised you weren’t as badly injured as she thought you were; If anything, she believed you to be bead. It wasn’t until she dragged your body out of the wreck that she noticed you were still breathing, but you were covered in soot and dirt, not to mention blood that ran from your head and several cuts you had acquired from the glass shattering from the windows of your TIE.

Iden had said that she would take you back in her TIE, as it had the extra seat for an additional gunner; Del and Hask didn’t argue but they helped her get you in the TIE before they rushed themselves back to the Eviscerator. The moment they touched down, Iden did just as was said earlier and rushed you to the medical ward. She was honestly amazed that you walked away from it at all with just the injuries you sustained which just so happened to be a broken arm, a concussion, and several cuts and bruises.

“How do you expect me to lay still when this bed is like sleeping on a rock?” You questioned her as you sat yourself up in the bed, hissing lightly as your body sent a wave of pain throughout every nerve in your body; Even with the pain medication they gave you could still feel just about every bit of pain your body dished out at you. Now that your body had the chance to relax, every movement you made your body took the chance to light itself with pain; And you hated it deeply. You quite literally felt like you were hit by a speeder; Which in all honestly would have probably hurt more then the crash landing you did. Those trees on Endor were not showing you or your TIE any mercy.

Iden couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she leaned against the wall beside your bed, glancing at the door as the occasional doctor or medical droid entered and left. They had yet to give you your report on what you could and couldn’t do, but Iden already knew the drill with you. You wouldn’t be able to return on any missions for at least two weeks if not longer. She had seen it before with Del and Hask whenever the two would get injured on a mission; She was used to it by this point but seeing you here? It hurt her a bit. She was your commander, she is suppose to have your back just as you always have hers; And yet here you were. Injured because she couldn’t prevent it from happening. She couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped her lips as she glanced to the door once more as it opened with a small hiss. Hask was the one who entered the room and began to make his way over, soon stopping just at the foot of your bed and glanced in your direction, giving a small shake of his head.

“Surprised you’re still kicking it, Agent (L/N). That crash was pretty nasty” He spoke lowly to which you gave a weak chuckle, more pain shooting through your body but you weren’t going to show it.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Hask.. They’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You told him, shifting slightly once more and whimpering at the pain; So much for not showing them that you were still hurting. Iden glanced at you with a small, worried expression before she looked at Hask.

“Is there something you needed, Agent Hask?” She questioned, eyebrow perked up as Hask turned his attention from you to Iden, giving a nod to his commander.

“Yes, Inferno Squad is needed for a debrief and potential another mission; Admiral Versio has more information on the matter.” He spoke, shifting his gaze towards you once more.

“Well, those that aren't marked as bed written, that is..” He corrected himself to which you gave a huff and mocked his tone under your breath; You knew Hask meant well from time to time, but you still hated him and took any moment you could to mock him. You could have sworn you saw him tense up though after your mocking tone had left your lips and he was more than ready to call you out on your behavior but Iden pushed herself off the wall and spoke up.

“Alright, let’s go then. And (Y/N), stop mocking Hask. You’re going to get yourself in trouble” She started as she took a few steps but stopped and turned her head to you, a serious look in her eyes.

“Get some rest, (Y/N). That’s an order from your Commander.” She told you in a serious tone before she left with Hask right on her heels, giving you one last look before the door closed behind them.

You blushed lightly at her order but cleared your throat and adjusted yourself once more, finally settling down. You stared up at the ceiling with uninterest, occasionally shifting your gaze around the room until your eyes caught something else that interested you. You were going to be here for awhile, there was no doubting it but you just wished there was something to do. You couldn’t help but sigh and shut your eyes slowly, listening to the machines beep nearby as you gave a small hum. Your body eventually settled into the medical bed and slowly you allowed yourself to fall asleep.

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

Iden remained silent as she flew her course to Naboo; They were heading there to meet up with a spy who claimed to have vital information from the Republic that could prove useful to the Empire. Even though Iden knew she should have been thinking about the mission and the course of action to take, her mind kept wandering back to you. She couldn’t help but bite her lip quietly as her mind wandered; You shouldn’t be in the medical bay right now. You should be flying with them to Naboo for this mission, not laying in some bed bored out of your mind and waiting to get yourself healed up. She swore she would watch after her squadron and she already broke that.

“Everything alright, commander?” Del spoke through the comms, occasionally glancing towards her TIE as they neared the planet.

“Yes, just thinking is all.” She responded, to which Del gave a small hum and asked.

“Is (Y/N) alright? That was a very uh.. Rough landing they had..” Del spoke, a sincere tone to his voice. Iden couldn’t help but smile a bit; At least you and Del got along. She understood how your relationship with Hask worked, it was how his relationship was with just about everyone nowadays and she understood it fully. So long as you and Del got along and worked together as a team, that’s all she could ask for.

“Yeah, she’s fine. They’re resting and the sooner we finish up here, the faster we can get back to check up on them.” She spoke, going and entering Naboo’s atmosphere and landing her TIE in a field far away from their destination; A small city just on the far outskirts of the Great Grass Plains. Hask couldn’t help the huff that escaped him as he landed his TIE as well, the grass whipping around the TIE’s as they made their landing.

“I’m sure she’s fine, commander. We need to focus on the task at hand.” He all but hissed out to which Iden just rolled her eyes and made her way out of the TIE, her boots hitting the ground with a thud before she glanced around. Naboo was always so pretty to her, even in the dead of night as it was now. She noticed a few small, lightning bugs lighting up their surroundings around them, illuminating the large rows of grass and wildflowers in the area. She hummed a bit as she took a deep breath and shut her eyes, slowly releasing the breath. You’d like it here, she knew you would. You were always a sucker for places with pretty views. Turning around, she grabbed her blaster and began to make her way to their destination, Del and Hask close behind her.

‘It’ll be an in and out job.’ She told herself as they made their way into the city.

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

You were sitting up in the medical bed now, sleep long since forgotten as you were awoken by the doctor just a few hours ago to talk about the current state you were in. You already knew the drill; No missions for at least a week, constant rest and lots of water, plus your occasional medication to help with the healing process and pain. Now you were eating away at your food that honestly didn’t taste that great but hey, it was something at least. You were once again glancing around the room, your eyes landing on the familiar machines you were hooked up too; You listened to the familiar beeps of the machines but it wasn’t those noises that held your attention. It was the news from an officer nearby that caught your attention and retained it.

“I heard Inferno Squad is in trouble, stuck on Naboo with no way to get to their TIE fighters.” The officer spoke and you couldn’t help but frown and continue to listen as you ate; Your squad mates were in trouble and you were here eating away.

“Are they now? Why can’t they leave?” The doctor spoke as they filled out a few reports not only on you but on the various storm troopers that came and left with injuries.

“I guess that lead they were given was an ambush from those Rebel scum. They’re hunkered down. I give them maybe an hour or two max before they surrender or die.” The officer spoke, shaking his head lightly as he adjusted his hat, excused himself as he was called away and left the room. You couldn’t help but tighten the grip you had on your fork; You needed to leave immediately. You glanced down at the IV stuck in your arm and let out a shaky breath; The moment you pulled that out, you knew you would have to make a run for it to the hangar. The problem? You didn’t know how well you could walk, let alone run. This all ran on chance and you couldn’t help but take a deep breath before you tore the IV from your arm and quickly stood up, swaying lightly. You took the moment to regain your balance before you quickly made your way out of the room, grabbing your helmet off the nearby table as you began to limp out into the hall. You quickly limped down the hall and it wasn’t long before you heard the doctor screaming out for you but by then you had already rounded the corner and was quickly making your way to the hangar bay.

You kept a hand on the wall at all times as you walked through the ship, giving the occasional nod to a passing storm trooper or officer. As you walked, you quickly redressed yourself; You were still wearing your pilot suit, the only thing was the top half of your uniform was rolled around your hips and you wore a grey tank top under it. You were grateful they let you keep it on, it made this escape easy. You were nearing the hangar and the moment you arrived you took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. You swayed slightly once more but began to make your way to where one of the newer TIE models resided. Since yours was destroyed, you’d be taking one of these. You let out a breath as you made your way inside the TIE and began to turn it on, the controls being the same as your previous TIE fighter. It wasn’t long before you were in the air and flying out of the ship. You put in the coordinates for Naboo and jumped to lightspeed without another thought.

All you had to do was stay conscious; Your squad needed you after all.

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

Iden ducked back down under the cover of the destroyed speeder, hissing lightly as she covered the wound now residing on her left arm. A shot had grazed past her, just barely missing her arm in the process. Del had noticed and took cover as well, looking towards his commander.

“Are you alright?” He asked, to which Iden gave a quick nod and moved back up to fire a few shots at the Rebels. She should have known something didn’t feel right, but she was sidetracked with your current state that she didn’t register what was going on before it was too late. Hask was right, she was heavily distracted by you and she had failed yet again as a commander. The spy did have the information they required, but they double crossed them at the last second; The Rebels were hiding within the city in disguise and they were scattered just about everywhere and anywhere they could have thought them to be. The moment Iden clicked on to what was happening, she opened fire then and there. They managed to move outside but quickly the speeder they had gotten was blown up by overpassing x-wings; They were pinned down to the destroyed speeder that resided just outside the building now and their odds weren’t looking too good.

“We need to move forward, if we don’t we’ll be stuck here!” Hask snapped to Iden who ducked behind cover once more; Every Rebel she shot down she could have sworn about three more took their place. They were outnumbered, they were going to lose. The Rebels planned this out thoroughly and knew just when to strike; At night when they wouldn’t be able to see much. Iden couldn’t help but shut her eyes tightly and grip her blaster.

“Then we’ll surrender.” She spoke, opening her eyes with a saddened tone. Del and Hask both stared at her, both shocked that she would suggest such a thing.

“I- Commander we can’t surrender!” Del spoke up, staying behind cover as the shots whizzed past their heads. Iden glanced in his direction and spoke once more.

“Del, we’re pinned down and every Rebel we kill about five more take their place. We’re surrounded; They planned this attack out thoroughly while I didn’t even consider it an option.” She spoke truthfully, her grip tightening around her gun. Del couldn’t help but swallow hard as he glanced at Hask who snorted and stood up to take a few more shots. Del let out a breath before he stood to do the same before he spoke up to Iden.

“Then I’d rather die fighting then let them capture us.” He spoke as he continued to shoot down the Rebels one by one. Iden glanced between the two of them, her heart sinking a bit. She wished you were here beside them, maybe then she would have that fighting spirit to keep going; Maybe then she wouldn’t have made such a mistake in the first place. She couldn’t help but blink as a familiar noise began to fill her ears; That of a TIE fighter growing closer. It wasn’t until she saw the familiar green proton-torpedoes that she stood up quickly, watching as the torpedoes hit their mark and cleared a way through the Rebel group. Del couldn’t help but blink himself as he watched the TIE fly overhead, going and making another round to take out the remaining blockade that kept them pinned down.

“Let’s go! Now is our chance!” Hask snapped out as he began to make his way forward; They just needed to get to the Great Grass Plains and they’d be home free, per say their ships weren’t already destroyed. Iden shook herself of the thought and gave a nod, following after Hask and soon taking lead as she began to take out a few remaining Rebels that were left behind from the shots that were fired. Iden didn’t know who was piloting that TIE, why they were alone, or how they got there so fast but she wasn’t about to complain about the issue. The TIE made it’s occasional rounds, taking out any large blockades that the Rebel’s may have set up and would occasionally take out an x-wing or two that attempted to shoot them down from the sky. It didn’t take the group that long to get a system going; The Inferno Squadron hunkering down and allowing the TIE to take out a majority of the troops before they advanced. It was a system that Iden could get behind and it began to give her that fighting spirit back that she needed. It wasn’t long before they reached the Great Grass Plains and spotted the TIE fighters still standing, seemingly untouched by the attack that just happened. Quickly the group made their ways to their respected TIE’s and jumped inside before they started up their ships and took off.

Once settled inside her TIE and out of the planet’s atmosphere, Iden established a communications link with the TIE fighter pilot.

“I don’t know who I’m talking to, but I wish to thank you on behalf of Inferno Squadron. We would have been dead without you.” Iden spoke over the comms, awaiting an answer before her eyes widened at the voice on the other end.

“I appreciate the thanks, Commander. I couldn’t have my squadron die on me.” You grinned as you followed after the squad, jumping to lightspeed at the same time as them.

“I- (Y/N)?! What are you doing out of the medical bay?!” She yelled through the comm, causing you to roll your eyes at her.

“Commander, please relax.” You started as you adjusted yourself in your seat; The adrenaline from the mission beginning to wear off and you could feel yourself growing tired, but you weren’t about to fall asleep behind the controls.

“I heard what was happening and I couldn’t let you all get yourselves captured. And if I’m being honest, it didn’t seem like they were sending a squadron to save you guys anytime soon so I took matters into my own hands.” You admitted as you watched their ships in front of you. Silence filled the comms and it wasn’t long before Del was the one to speak up.

“Well.. I’m grateful you came to the rescue, so thank you.” He spoke, causing you to smile at his words.

“You’re welcome, Del.” You commented as you all came out of lightspeed and flew into the hangar within the Eviscerator. You slowly but surely made your way out of the TIE and stumbled about, falling to the chest of someone. You glanced up and blushed lightly as Iden held you up once more, letting a sigh escape her lips as she took your left arm and draped it over her shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the medical bay.” She spoke, giving a nod to Hask and Del nearby to inform the Admiral what had occurred and the squadron all went their separate ways. You couldn’t help but blush at the closeness between you and Iden and it wasn’t long before she spoke up.

“I hope you know I’m not upset with you.” She started, to which you turned your head to look at her.

“You’re not?” You questioned as your body began to beg you for sleep. You were sure you could have fallen asleep right then and there but you didn’t want to do that to Iden; She herself was injured after all.

“I’m not.. If anything, I’m grateful for it.” She admitted as she turned the corner with you, going at a slow enough pace so that you could keep up with her.

“I.. Well… You’re welcome.” You smiled at her, to which she hummed lightly as she made her way into the medical bay with you.

“There she is!” The doctor spoke from where they were, to which you couldn’t help the small, sheepish chuckle that escaped you.

“I uh.. Hey Doc.” You spoke and hid yourself behind Iden as he gave you a glare. Iden just shook her head and helped you back into your bed. She watched as he began to get you situated once more to everything you needed to be on; Lowering the top half of your pilot suit before attaching the IV back in your arm. She was grateful you still had the grey tank top on under at the very least.

“I’ll leave you two alone, but I suggest you get that arm checked out, Versio.” The doctor spoke as he finished hooking you up to everything you needed to be and glanced to Iden with a concerned look; It was rare she came in with an injury after all.

“I will doc, thank you.” She spoke as the doctor gave a small nod and left before she turned her attention to you and couldn’t help but shake her head lightly at the tired look you had on your face.

“Stay with me for a few moments, (Y/N).” She spoke as she pulled up a chair and sat beside your bed. You couldn’t help but hum and turn your head in her direction.

“Yes, Iden?” You spoke, watching her as she inspected your form. Sure you were beaten up and looked like absolute hell but she looked past that. She loved everything about you; From your hair to your sparkling eyes to your determined and kind personality. She loved it all, she wouldn’t have enough time in the galaxy to list off everything she loved about you. She couldn’t help but bit her lip as she took your hand in hers.

“I uh.. I want to tell you something, before you fall asleep that is.” She spoke in a calming tone as she watched your eyelids slowly flutter shut, giving out small hums as responses. She couldn’t help but smile and lean over, pressing her lips to yours in a short, sweet kiss. You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the action but you kissed her back as best you could in your tired state. She only stayed there for a few seconds before she pulled away, running a gloved thumb over your bare knuckles.

“I love you.. And I owe you one for saving us.” She spoke, to which you grinned tiredly and mumbled to her.

“Damn right you love me.. Cuz I love you too…” You mumbled as you allowed yourself to finally fall asleep. Iden couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her as she leaned back in the seat, her hand still holding yours. She wouldn’t be leaving your side for awhile and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Star Wars #Iden Versio x Reader #Iden Versio #battlefront 2 #battlefront ii #Star Wars Battlefront 2 #Star Wars Battlefront ii #Fluff #x reader

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luna-memoria · 4 years

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Snow

I'm back with some silent cat fluff •̀.̫•́✧

Basically Felix and Claude get separated from the group while traveling and find themselves lost on a snow day. Enjoy your read!

Word count: 1601 (now edited)

"We're lost, aren't we."

Claude pauses for a long moment, then stubbornly decides, "no." He doesn't seem as sure of his words with how he taps away on his phone, its screen filled with sweaty fingerprints, frantically.

Here they are, in the snow, separated from the rest of the group, in… somewhere. Felix's not really sure. They were in a park, and now they've somehow ended up on a long road that never seems to end. There's a bridge a short distance away from where they're standing. The stream below is half-frozen. He hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings before and he regrets it with every fiber of his being. That's what happens when you travel with someone who's good at finding their way around (Allan) and think you can just follow them around without having to think too much when passing through crowds.

He goes through his backpack again, like somehow this time he would find something of use in this situation. Inside is still the same water bottle and umbrella and extra socks and the plastic packet of fingerless gloves Claude bought for him as a joke in a store earlier, though he cannot see where the joke is. His phone charger is back at the hotel, probably. His phone, laying soundly in his coat pocket is dead and has been for half an hour, which is an absolute joy, because that leaves Claude's phone as their only hope of finding their way.

"Have you managed to contact anyone?"

"Bri's shared her location," says Claude at last. You can hear the relief in his voice, see how his tense shoulders relax. He starts doing random things like exhaling mouthfuls of air so the air around his face goes foggy for awhile. "She says they're in- a restaurant? Shouldn't be too long of a walk."

"Not a long walk, huh?" says Felix blankly. His eyes do a quick scan around them. Snow, snow, snow everywhere. To him at this moment, any walk would be a long one. He wonders if he can still feel his face, but he doesn't feel like taking his hands out of his pocket just to test that. Instead, he leans over to see Claude's phone. Sure enough, it's technically not too far of a distance, but they had to pick the worst kind of place to get lost in: a huge and freezing park that would probably take at least a good twenty minutes to walk back to the entrance - that's how long they took to reach their current spot, though it might as well have been an hour because it was hell trying to walk through the snow with snow falling on your glasses and blurring them. They've only managed to get internet connection from the university building that happened to be on their way.

And of course, now they've got to go back through the snow. He mumbles complaints about this under his breath.

Claude laughs, and Felix wants to shiver at how small and sorrowful it sounds. Claude Haprele does not make that kind of face, even in bad situations. He pulls on the sleeves of the sweater he's wearing beneath his huge puffy coat so he's got sweater paws, and only then Felix realizes that he doesn't have gloves on. Felix doesn't either, but he got to stick his hands in his pocket, and even though they're still cold it's better, while Claude- Claude didn't, because he had to use his phone to help them find their way. What the hell.

His hands must be freezing.

"Let's go, I feel stuffy just standing here," says Claude, pulling down his hood. There is snow all over his coat, over his boots and his hair and his face. Despite this, he does not look like a person who's freezing, not the slightest bit. A horrible feeling expands within Felix's chest.

Felix chews on his lip, feeling terrible that he hadn't realized this sooner. He reaches into his bag and retrieves the packet of fingerless gloves and rips open the plastic and hands the contents to Claude, who just looks at him bug-eyed and surprised.

"Put these on," he says in a rush. "They- well, they probably aren't meant to keep your hands warm, but it'll help, at least."

Claude stares down at the offered gloves then moves his gaze back to Felix, grins a slightly more real and joyful grin. "Guess my joke gift turned out to be useful in the end, huh?"

"I still don't get the joke."

"Of course, because it's not a joke, idiot," says Claude, sticking his tongue out. "I thought they suited you. Emo aesthetic and all, y'know? And thank you, for offering, but I won't be wearing those."

"What?" He frowns. He knows the idiot is stubborn and selfless at the least convenient times, but he didn't really expect to be flat out rejected in two seconds. He'd expect that when they first met and didn't get along, but now he likes to think that they're much better, much willing to hear the other out. "But you-"

"Pretty sure you need these more, dude. Just because your hands are in your pocket doesn't mean they're less cold," says Claude, which makes Felix want to pinch his cheeks for being an idiot. But before he could do anything, Claude reaches for Felix's hand and grasps his fingers briefly. Both of them are freezing. Claude is grinning wide and so is Felix, somehow. "And trust me, I can take a little cold."

Felix is dumbfounded for a second at all of this - the huge dumb smile on his companion's face; unbelievable, he thinks, feeling a little pissed, just unbelievable-

Then, he thinks of something that might work.

"Okay," he says. He takes a glove and slips it onto his left hand, then he takes the phone from Claude's right hand, slips the other glove on that hand, and gives him back the phone. "Now you can use the phone without your hand going numb. Or, well, too numb."

Claude's eyes widen a bit, like he wants to say something but can't think of the right words. And when he does go on to say something, he's stopped as Felix takes his ungloved hand in his own and squeezes it lightly.

"A much more practical option than leaving one person freezing," he says as an explanation, trying not to sound too embarrassed but failing quite miserably. Some snow falls onto his hood and slides down and gets caught in his hair. "Now hurry up and get moving."

Claude nods dumbly. His eyes are still wide and his lips are parted, a question undoubtedly stuck in his throat. He breathes out again, making another cloud of fog around his face, and Felix almost snorts. Is this Claude's way of trying to hide his embarrassment? It's so silly and unbearably… Claude, and Felix doesn't even hate that he finds this cute. And he must have let some sign of amusement show, because the next second Claude is looking at him, eyes narrowed and cheeks slightly pink.

"Don't make fun of me, Felix," he whines, which only makes Felix chortle in response.

"You're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"You're so mean, although I'm freezing myself to help you get out of this place!"

Felix couldn't help but smile again. He was going to say something stupid again, but looking at Claude's face-

...well, guess it couldn't be helped.

"I know. That's why we're going to buy you some better gloves when we reach a shop."

"There's no need for that."

Felix sends a dry look in his direction. "There is. Your hand is still very cold." He squeezes his hand again to prove a point.

"Well, I guess…"

"We can still do this after you get gloves," says Felix, for some reason. He doesn't know why he's saying that, or what he means with it.

"As in whenever I want?" asks Claude, head tilted slightly. It doesn't take long for Felix to get what he means by that, 'after', as in just until we find the others, or anytime I want after this, even after the trip and after we return home?

"Yes," he says, faster than both of them expected, if their mutual looks of surprise are of any indication.

Claude laughs and he sounds happy, so very happy. Felix doesn't know what to say, so he just goes on walking and contents himself in listening to that joyful laughter. They continue walking, slowly and at a steady pace. He feels Claude looking at the side of his face from time to time.

"What is it?" he asks, lips quirked upwards, the anxiety in him suddenly losing its effect. Perhaps it's because he senses the tiny bit of embarrassment in Claude as well and is glad to not be the only flustered one. Or perhaps he's just feeling happier. He finds that he doesn't really care which one it is. He focuses on their linked hands, feeling the warmth of Claude's fingers around his, a connection he finds himself enjoying quite a bit.

"You," says Claude, leaning close to him, practically beaming as he walks with light and cheerful steps, "are so cute, you know that?"

"Shut up," Felix tells him, but it's said through a huge dorky grin, one he doesn't even bother trying to hide - what would the point be? - and he doesn't let go of Claude's hand as they continue walking, even after they've found their way, even after they've reached the very end of the snowy path.

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug pv #silent cat #felix agreste #claude haprele #claude and felix #quantic kids #my writing

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hobotalesaus · 4 years

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Episode 3: A Hesitating Pulse Is Good Company

I still remember the first time I came to Melbourne; I was about 18. Everything was foreign and weird and busy and sunny. ‘People are strange, when you're a stranger. Faces look ugly, when you're alone.’ I ended up in Collingwood, another planet to me back then. I found solace in a corner pub. The porch light was on and it was the closest thing to home as I could find.

Living in the big smoke isn't for everyone, but certain people just fucking thrive. Jay is one of those people. Totally sober in the spot he lives, figuratively speaking. When I first met the bloke, he showed me through his place in his moccasins (yeah I remember mate) and pointed out different pieces of art, memorabilia, just stuff. The stuff that we fill our spaces with because we love looking at it and it's a puzzle of what makes us, ‘us’. This was the shit that he loves and you could see it straight away. Outside, there was this faint buzz of the city, with a heartbeat and tyre noise and the smell of god knows what. Maybe a police siren or some shit. It reminded me of a song, with the line "A hesitating pulse is good company". If I was to sum up Collingwood, especially in that house on that day, it would be with that line. "A hesitating pulse is good company".

Firstly, Jay is a bloody good bloke. My old man would always tell me the best way to approach somebody is like this: If you think you're a good fella, I do too, until you prove me wrong. Something tells me that Jay hasn't proven anyone wrong.

Knowing this about him, we approached Jay recently about doing a story and he was more than happy to go with it, which actually sort of posed a problem; he's got so many fucking things on the go, and is equally good at all of them, that we were hard pressed to make room for it all. But we'll give it a red hot crack anyway.

Born in the early 90s, Jay spent most of his time as a young fella riding BMX like most of us did. Outside til dark, jumping kerbs, ruining your shoes by putting them in between the forks and the front tyre. Yeah we all did it. "How do you keep ruining your shoes so quickly??" the words rang out across the house and you knew you were about to get whooped. Street Sharks on the telly, poster of Matt Hoffman on the bedroom wall. How good was that? Then the natural transition (as if that isn't the best fucking pun I've ever heard) to skateboarding. "The first skate video I ever saw was a FLIP SORRY part. That got me so pumped up to go skate, the whole soundtrack and attitude was surreal! Skateboarding basically consumed my life from then all the way up til now," he says, and yeah, it fucking shows. "I tell you what, I had a few Margera decks growing up. But Geoff Rowley stood out for me, and still influences me for sure, even to this day."

There's always been this weird connection between skating and motorcycles; we're not talking your $40,000 BMW touring bike or your Hyabusa. We're talking about Triumphs, Harleys, chopped up Honda's. Making noise and pissing people off. Literally giving the finger to anyone who gives you that greasy look. "I got into motorcycles when I was about 21 or 22, after a trip to the US. All I'd ever wanted to do was go to the U.S and skate all the spots I'd seen in the videos. I had organized with a friend from Geroa (check a map) to head over; his old lady owned a condo in Oceanside, Cali. They were kind enough to invite me over to stay."

“We're talking about Triumphs, Harleys, chopped up Honda's. Making noise and pissing people off. Literally giving the finger to anyone who gives you that greasy look”

"I took some photos of that chopper on this 35mm Minolta 201 I got for $30 on eBay.”

"So there we are at a skate park in California, and a mate of Ray's rolled up on this bad-ass cone Shovel chopper that he built himself. I didn't grow up around parents or a cool uncle who rode motorcycles, so when I was confronted with this dirty, leaky machine, I was fascinated. No foot pegs, looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the 80s. We were in the car on highway, watching him haul ass, weaving in and out of lanes, skateboard strapped to the sissy bar. That was it for me" he says, and you know that you had the same moment at some point in your life where you went "Yep, that's what I'm all about". He continues, "I took some photos of that chopper on this 35mm Minolta 201 I got for $30 on eBay. Turned out the mechanism to eject the film was broken so I lost it all. Still have the memories though. I came home to Australia and maybe a month later I went and bought a 2016 Sporty 48; because what the fuck do I know about building old motorcycles?" But who the fuck cares what it is right, as long as it's not a street bike.

This leads us into another jack of all trades moment with Jay; photography. "Sometimes when I'm feeling frisky, I whip out the old Nikon D700. I take 6 photos or maybe 30, and sometimes 1 will come out good. I'm not a photographer, I just take photos sometimes.", which is pretty much enough to sum it up. "I'm stoked with a whole bunch of photos I've taken, and that's all that fuckin' matters." Too right bloke.

"Sometimes when I'm feeling frisky, I whip out the old Nikon D700. I take 6 photos or maybe 30, and sometimes 1 will come out good. I'm not a photographer, I just take photos sometimes."

"Sometimes I paint, sometimes I get angsty sitting there for long periods of time trying to figure out colour blending and all the rest. I did the Knucklehead painting and that's pretty much where that ends." I was actually lucky enough to grab said Knucklehead painting, which takes pride of place in my lounge room. It's a wicked, dusty, rusty painting that tells you that the motor is as old as sin. Just how we like it. "I can't draw to save my life, but I spent what felt like 3 months working on it here and there." That led us to a pretty significant point in the story, with what I guess I'm trying to capture with these interviews. "Expressing yourself is a great way to be heard; you can tell a story through an action, a photo, a drawing..whatever. And without self expression, the world is a pretty boring place."

“I was actually lucky enough to grab said Knucklehead painting, which takes pride of place in my lounge room”

So, as far as the nitty gritty, I think a lot of us have seen Jay's scoot by now. That 48 Sporty we mentioned earlier was written off "trying to pull a wheelie leaving work", which is a pretty standard outcome I reckon. So the white beast is a 72 Sporty, which was stripped down and and built back up by David at Primal Garage, with some work being done by Sean at Bar-None Moto. He cut the rear fender struts, and had some solid bar machined up to look like suspension, but it is actually hard-tailed. He also lifted the tank a little, modified the seat pan that Sean made, fit a new rear fender so it tucked nicely around the tire. He also freshened up the bike by re-painting the tins pearl white, with champagne stripes fading to silver. He also chucked the Leviathan cross on the tank at my request. He finished it all off with a set of bad ass up sweeps! Sean smashed out new bars, sissybar, license plate/ brake light bracket, and gave Dave a good start on the king/queen seat pan. Now I have a sweet ass looking bike that I’ve barely ridden this year. Covid has been a struggle", he says, and those of you in Victoria can attest to the fact that this year has been a total write off. Not being able to get out, hit some pubs, roll the swag out beside the bike and sleep in the dirt; that's our lockdown. "I’ve gone damn near everywhere on that bike, I love it to bits!"

“He cut the rear fender struts, and had some solid bar machined up to look like suspension, but it is actually hard-tailed.”

There aren’t too many ways to describe riding a motorcycle to somebody who hasn't done it. And there's a difference again between riding in total comfort, heated grips, perfect riding position, had vitamins this morning, has a go-pro strapped to his head, has every supply under the sun in his bags, middle aged dentist on a touring bike. I'm talking about being stripped down of all fancy equipment, burning your legs, can't hear anything, welts on your face, hot, cold, numb fingers, sore arse, no fuel left, phone is dead, you're still 50kms from where you think the camp spot is but you know what? You could keep riding for another 1000kms because fuck me, this is what it's about.

“..total comfort, heated grips, perfect riding position, had vitamins this morning, has a go-pro strapped to his head, has every supply under the sun in his bags, middle aged dentist on a touring bike.”

The smell of a campfire, the taste of a bug on your teeth, the spine shattering crack from a pothole on your hardtail, losing your house keys somewhere in the last 2 days riding, unpeeling yourself from the bike and finally being able to stretch your hips as the locals stare. "Passing out in the dirt, waking up in the rain. Skateboarding was my first love, but riding motorcycles is one big adventure, and the best one I've been on in years." says Jay, as I think we all for a moment realize that from now on, whenever anyone asks "Hey, lets skip town for a night on the bikes", you're going to say yes regardless, for fear of never being able to do it again.

"Passing out in the dirt, waking up in the rain. Skateboarding was my first love, but riding motorcycles is one big adventure, and the best one I've been on in years."

If our readers are anything like us, and I think they are, living in the city is doable if there's an escape in between the chaos. "Pre-Covid, my girlfriend (Asti) and our dog (Luna) and I would head up into the mountains every other weekend. Find a cool spot to park and just walk around for awhile, explore. We could let Luna off lead and she loved it. I like shooting photos in the forest. Nature is the best".

"Camping holds a special place in my heart. I love the smell of a campfire, endless banter between mates, NO RECEPTION. Not showering for awhile is also a guilty pleasure. We've all had our fair share of wet-wipe showers". I'll be honest, as long as there's water near by, that's good enough for me. Winter or not. Which reminds me, little tip for painting the town brown in the bush; dig two little holes for your heels, stick a log or the shovel in the ground, hang onto it and lean back. Opens up the bowels. (You'll thank me I reckon).

’’We've all had our fair share of wet-wipe showers"

Everyone has a favorite camping story. I think as time has gone on, they don’t stand out as much as they used to, they're all great. Even when you ended up broken down in the rain, lost, hungry, hungover. Still better than a night in the city if you ask me.

"My favorite camp spot was something not easily forgotten. My girlfriend and I tripped out to Wilson’s Promontory one weekend. We paid to spend the night in the camp site which was basically a grass car park with no fires allowed and we decided that it just wouldn’t fly with us. We packed a couple of backpacks with the tent, sleeping mat, sleeping bags etc. We hiked a trail for an hour or so, scouting a suitable place to set up shop along the way. We eventually decided to veer off the trail, and head down through the shrub toward the ocean. We ended up finding the most insane spot! On top of a cliff, a nice flat piece of land on some moss covered rocks. Looking over the ocean. We were even graced with a sunset, right over the water, directly in front of us. Romantic as fuck, it was amazing. Golden hour blew us away. Not a single person in sight, but us. We got a little fire going and just marveled at what we found and where we were. That was the best camp spot for sure. If it were possible to accompany that with motorcycles, shit. I could have died right there and then."

‘’Even when you ended up broken down in the rain, lost, hungry, hungover. Still better than a night in the city if you ask me’’

“We packed a couple of backpacks with the tent, sleeping mat, sleeping bags etc. We hiked a trail for an hour or so, scouting a suitable place to set up shop along the way.”

I reckon that's a pretty good image to leave this story on. I think there's something special about people who can find solace in nothing, in no-one, just being content with what's happening at that moment in time. A sunset, setting off a car alarm with your pipes, burning away from a servo with a full tank of fuel. The big picture is made up of a million little pictures.

We always ask people what their life motto is; what they stand by. Jay gave us this. "Do more of what makes you happy. Whatever it is.”

Thanks bloke, it's been a time and a half. First beer is on me once the wall comes down.

"Do more of what makes you happy. Whatever it is."

All photos by Jay except for top photo by Sean (Bar-None Moto).

#harley davidson #photography #camping #motorcycles #choppers #skateboard #skating

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sebseyesandbuckysthighs · 5 years

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Three Soldiers and a Baby | Part Seven

summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?

pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventual) featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

warnings: none, just make-believe goodness

a/n: Part seven is here! It makes me so happy that so many of you have been reading and liking my little domestic Avengers series. It’s just one big fluff piece that’s totally unrealistic and huge on the fanservice cause that’s what we deserve, alright!? So yeah, I hope you enjoy this part too, you lovely people. You deserve all the fluff! ❤

*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*

| previously |

“So this is for real then?” Sam said just as they put Ellie to sleep in her bassinet for hopefully the last time before morning. “This is really happening?”

“Looks that way, pal,” Steve confirmed. “I don’t think anyone is coming to get this little girl.”

Sam nodded solemnly, the full gravity of the situation still bearing it’s burden down on him. “We gotta tell someone, man. We can’t do this ourselves.”

He didn’t even consider thinking about it, Steve was not about to risk anyone else getting involved with this. “We can’t Sam. This is on us. At least for now. When Bucky gets back–”

“He’s a dead man?” Sam interrupted.

“Among other things, yeah pretty much.”

———————————————————————

The first night passed with, thankfully, no incident. There was a harrowing moment at one point in the night as a siren echoed through the open terrace window. The sound instantly woke Sam and Steve from their spot on the couches, forcing them to jump into action and try to dull the noise before it woke the baby. In the end, they had nothing to worry about as the siren passed and the soothing sounds of Ellie’s quiet breathing kept to a steady slumbering rhythm. They barely slept for the rest of the night after that.

That next morning, the boys realized that they would have to figure something out in terms of explaining their absences to the team back at the Compound. Now that they had moved away on their own, they typically were not expected to return everyday for training, but there would be weekly meetings that they must attend. The next one wasn’t for a few more days, but they weren’t expecting Bucky to be back for quite awhile and it wasn’t like they could just hire a babysitter. Sam and Steve took time to strategize while they fed Ellie her breakfast.

In the short time that they’d all been together, Steve was grateful to find out that Ellie was a pretty well-behaved baby. She smiled and laughed a lot, cried only until she was given what she needed and slept through her naps without so much fussing. Even though she was teething, not even that seemed to bother her too much. She was just a happy baby. Although he worried for her, Steve was incredibly impressed with Ellie’s mother for raising such a sweet little girl all on her own. Whatever it was that made her decide that the only thing she could do was leave the little girl with her, essentially, estranged father must have been severe. He only wished that the woman was safe and would soon be able to reunite with her daughter. Her family. Another small part of Steve hoped that maybe the father would be a part of that family too.

“What plans did you cancel tonight?” Steve asked Sam on the third afternoon spent with Ellie in their lives.

“Dinner date with my lady.” Sam replied as he spoon fed Ellie some kind of fruit mush. “What about you?”

“Nat and I had tickets to see a show with Wanda and Viz.”

“How long are we gonna be able to keep this up?” Sam asked, not taking his eyes off of Ellie. “Good girl, El. Taste good don’t it?”

Steve smiled at the giggle that burst from Ellie’s green goo covered lips and cheeks. No matter how much of a messed up situation it was, it was never enough to make Steve forget how beautiful of a baby Ellie was.

“Yeah well no wonder she’s beautiful. She looks more like her mama than she does Barnes.” Sam would say in those moments when he caught Steve staring.

“She has Bucky’s eyes though.” Steve would stare into them, mesmerized by the beautiful blue orbs the little girl had to match her father’s. Bucky’s gonna fall in love with her at first sight I bet, Steve would think.

The next night they had just put Ellie to bed and were folding the bit of laundry they did of the clothes they bought for her earlier that day. Because as Sam said, the girl needed a bigger wardrobe. It amazed both men how expensive babies were, but when they saw Ellie in the new onesie they chose for her, they couldn’t help but forgive her. It wasn’t an easy job by any means, but together Sam and Steve were able to juggle their responsibilities with Ellie and learn more about raising a baby along the way. This wasn’t something either of them was planning on doing for the rest of their lives, but for now they would just have to make do and help however they could.

By the fourth day, they started seeing more of Ellie’s adorable personality come to light. She laughed at practically everything Sam did and would stop crying the moment Steve picked her up and rocked her gently. At one point in the day Sam checked in at the compound to get an update on Bucky’s mission. Unfortunately he couldn’t find out much aside from the fact that the estimated time of completion for this particular mission shouldn’t be for another week or two apparently.

“By Friday we have to let the other guys know, Steve. We can’t keep this between us for that long without someone getting suspicious.” Sam said as they bathed Ellie that night Tuesday night. “The last thing we need is the Avengers coming to break down our door and seeing us with a child. Imagine the questions.” Sam shuddered.

“I know, I know.” Steve agreed as he gently washed Ellie’s face with a soft cloth. The girl was a bit of a messy eater. “Just two more days until the meeting. Maybe we’ll hear from Bucky before then and figure something out.”

Sam laughed humorlessly. “Oh yeah, that’ll go over well. Tell Barnes about his offspring over the phone while he’s away on a dangerous mission.” He tickled Ellie under the chin. “What do you think, kiddo? Should we call your pops and tell him about you? The fool that he is, he might not even come home if he finds out about her.”

Steve frowned and grabbed a towel to wrap Ellie in now that they were done rinsing her off. He wouldn’t admit it just yet but this was Steve’s favorite part of the day. When he got to hold Ellie close to him and feel her little heart beating through her tiny chest. Still amazed that his best friend had helped in creating a life, and a precious one at that. Even if he didn’t know it just yet.

“Bucky wouldn’t do that, Sam, and you know it.” Steve wrapped Ellie up and kissed her forehead. “The second he finds out about her, he’s not going to want to let her go.”

“And he won’t have to if we don’t find some way to find her mother. Any luck with that yet?” Sam asked as he drained the large sink that they used as a makeshift tub for Ellie. She was still tiny enough to fit in there comfortably.

Steve shook his head while he cradled Ellie in his arms, rocking her back and forth as she bumbled in baby talk. “Unfortunately nothing. She doesn’t have any sort of social media presence. I don’t want to risk pulling up the mission file from two years ago either, just in case that rings any bells with the team. We’ll just have to wait for Buck to get home so he can hopefully fill in some blanks.”

As much as it bugged him to admit, Sam knew that Steve was right and they would just have to wait for Bucky to get back. The team would get suspicious, but as long as one of them showed up to that meeting on Friday the better off they’d be.

“Alright, gimme the kid so I can change her.” Sam said with outstretched arms, but Steve pulled away ever so slightly.

“No it’s alright, I got this. You can go get her bottle ready, though.” Steve smiled down at Ellie. “We’re gonna go get changed into our pjs. Isn’t that right, sweet girl. Time to get ready for bed.” He cooed at the little bundle in his arms, practically feeling his heart burst when she wrapped her tiny digits around his one finger. Sam watched on as Steve continued to gawk at Ellie with a big goofy loving grin on his face and couldn’t help but do the same. The little girl had effortlessly found her way into each of their hearts and held on with a tight grip. Barnes was doomed, Sam thought.

That night, like every other night this week, Sam and Steve each took up a couch in the living room while Ellie’s bassinet was rested atop the large coffee table. At first they argued over whether or not they should set her up in Bucky’s room while they stayed in their own, but that didn’t work out as both men would constantly get up in the night to check on her. Having her sleep in one of their rooms wasn’t an option either as they both argued over who’s room she would stay in. The living room was the final option and it seemed to be working out okay so far. Sam was just thankful that the men had the foresight to buy really comfortable couches.

It was past midnight when a click stirred Steve from his sleep. He thought perhaps Ellie had woken up and was fussing around in her bassinet, but when he looked over she was still sound asleep. He thought perhaps it was Sam’s light snores that woke him, but they hadn’t before and when he heard the click again he knew something was off. He tossed a pillow at Sam to wake him, gently of course, and just as he did something crashed at the front hallway. Sam was awake just as Steve leapt to grab his shield from beside the couch. Both were on high alert as to who the hell could have broken into their apartment. They both circled in front of Ellie protectively, moving forward inch by inch until suddenly all the lights went on. Steve threw his shield toward the door and instead of it knocking out whoever dared to trespass into their home, a metal hand caught it with a deafening clang.

“What the hell?” The deep sharp register of a man’s voice yelled out in the night.

“Bucky?” whispered Steve just as Sam growled, “Barnes!”

The three men stared each other down as the threat of danger faded away and heart rates returned to somewhat normal levels. Before anyone could say another word, though, there was a soft huff heard from the living room just before a wailing cry pierced into the night.

Bucky’s eyes widened dramatically and his skin paled slightly. “What the hell is that?”

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a/n: Well hot dang, look who’s finally home! None other than the man of the hour himself, Mr James B. Barnes! About freaking time and with that iconic line to top it. Oh, and don’t we just wish that all babies were as wonderful and too good to be true as Ellie? That’s why we write fiction, people. To fix reality with fiction is what we’re here for, dangit!

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Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!

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part six << part seven >> part eight

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Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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tags:

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #three soldiers and a baby #my writing

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queenofthefallenangels · 5 years

Text

The Demon's Bride

Demon Finn Balor x OC

Rated: M

Warning: smut, daddy kink,angst, and a bit of fluff.

A/N: This is what I previewed awhile back and I finally finished it. I really hope you enjoy it.

Tag Team: @stayweirdlove @release-your-sweets @biforbecky2belts @sethsevolution @writtingrose @kalliravenne @neversatisfiedgirl @sassymox @i-silver-ninja-posts @writertoo18 @the-beastslayers-queen @baroncorbinsfairytale @tx-fangirl @theworldofotps @demonkingsangel @darktammy @anglophilstymie @instantbouquetdestinysblog @thesimonkshow @courtney6199 @shieldgirl18 @hauntedcloudghostnickel @gayforbecky @ilostmyselfinmake-believe

Humberto lead me to his doorway, "This seems weird. I normally walk the girl home. Are you sure I can't?" He asked.

"Yeah," I told him. "My roommate hate when I bring dates home."

He nodded in an understanding way. We stood together in the doorway in silence for awhile. "I had a great time." He said breaking the silence.

"I did too." I smiled up at him. He slowly leaned in to kiss me. I felt his soft lips hit mine. It felt amazing. Suddenly, he pulled away and started choking. He was coughing up blood.

"Humberto?" I said shocked backing up. He collapsed to the ground. I kneeled down beside him. I went to feel for his pulse. Nothing.

Snap, went a tree branch behind me. I quickly twirled around. That's when I saw it. A sinister smile standing up on the rooftop. It looked like the cheshire cat smile glowing in the darkness.

A normal person would be terrified. I wasn't though. I knew exactly who that smile belonged to.

"Balor." I hissed underneath my breathe. The smile grew a bit before slowly disappearing into the darkness.

I sighed, looking down at the body on the ground. "He has to ruin everything for me. I am sorry you had to go like that." I said brushing his hair out of his face.

I walked over to a building before creating a doorway to walk through. As I walked in, my outfit changed from my dark ripped jeans, black tank, with a leather jacket, to a simple purple dress that fell to my feet. A simple crown appeared on my head. The room around me also changed from a quiet residential street to an old stone palace.

"Finn Balor," I yelled as soon as I entered the throne room where I saw the demon sat on his throne. I could tell by his face he had been waiting for me. A smile crept on his face as he saw me walk up to him.

"Is that anyway to address your king?" He asked.

I wasn't in the mood to play his games. "Why do you always have to kill them? Humberto did nothing to you."

"He did. You forget, my queen, I not only saw that little kiss he gave you, but what he was thinking about." His eyes were dark.

"It's none of your business what he wants to do with me. You had no right to dig around in his head."

In a blink of an eye, he moved from his throne to right in front of my face. "My dear, Serena, you seem to forget. You are mine for all of eternity." His hand fell under my chin, making me look into his red eyes. "No one else gets to have you." He growled.

I smacked his hand away, "But everyone else can have you. I know you stray away from me. It's a double standard to let me do the same."

Finn pushed me hard against the wall, "You have gotten so mouthy lately. I don't know where this coming from. Or the sudden need to run around in the mortal world with mortal men."

"Maybe you bore me." I told him raising an eyebrow. "I need the help of mortals to get off."

He took me off the wall, only to slam me harder. Anger filling his eyes, "You little liar. There is no one better than me, especially a mortal."

"They do posse something you seem to forget."

"And what would that be?" He asked his head cocked to the side.

"You forget how to make love. To touch me like I am more than a fuck toy. You haven't done that in centuries."

He chuckled softly, "You actually think those dumb mortals love you." He shook his softly

"More than you do."

"You are still naive as the day, I met you, Serena." He taunted. "You think 500 years in hell with me would have changed that.

"It has. I am not naive anymore. You ripped that from me when you got my soul and my heart."

"And I made you my queen. You are so ungrateful." Balor tsked at me. "I could have dumped your soul away like the rest of them."

"Sometimes I wish you would have. Those souls have more freedom being thrown away like trash than you give me. I am nothing but a sex slave to you."

"A sex slave who gets to wear the crown. A mortal soul who gets to live forever with one of the most powerful demons in all of hell. How ungrateful are you." He shook his head. With a swoop of his hand he pushed me on my knees. "I think you need a reminder of how lucky you are." He grabbed a chunk of my golden blonde hair. "First you will suck daddy off and than you will spend the night in the dungeon for your disobedience."

As much as I hate this man, I couldn't help feel my desire for him spread when he dominated me. "Yes, master." I said pulling out his thick penis as I pulled it into my mouth. He always tasted amazing. Better than any human could. I almost missed it when I was gone.

He groaned holding me close to him so he could force himself deeper down my throat.

"Such a good girl. You're mouth is still one of the most amazing I have had." He cooed as he thrusted hard. Tears filled my eyes as I gagged on him. He didn't care though. He just kept pushing until he got his release making me swallow every last drop.

"Rollins, get her. Take her down to the dungeon. She is spending the night there." He said throwing me to the side.

Seth, one of the king's hands, helped me up by my arm and lead me down to the dungeon.

The dungeon was dark and wet, and had a horrible smell. It was like the a mix of mold and sweat. My feet were bare against the stone floor. You'd think in hell that the floor would be burning hot, but the stones in the were still ice against my feet.

Seth opened the iron gates and threw me inside locking it behind me. I hit the cold ground with a thud. I glared at him as he walked back out. "I swear he sucks Finn's dick more than I do." I said shaking my head. I sat down in the corner of the cell. This wasn't my first time being sent down here. I had run off to the mortal world before. It was hard not to. I missed the mortal world. Even though, it wasn't anything like I remember and everyone I knew had been dead for years. I knew that was something I would be sacrificing when I gave Balor my soul, but at the time, it didn’t matter to me. I was madly in love with Finn and I thought he loved me too. I began to question if he had ever really loved me or if I had just been a naive. The thought even sounded crazy. A demon falling in love. It felt real back than. The passion he kissed me with was like nothing else. When he asked me to be his forever. I couldn't turn it down. I sold him my soul bonding me to him in hell for all eternity.

I heard an eerie laugh rang through the dungeon. I looked up from where I was sitting to see a body appear with a twisted smile. "What you doing here, princess?" The voice belonged to Bray Wyatt.

"Go away, Bray." I hissed at him. "How are you even down here? I thought the dungeon blocked powers."

With a blink of an eye, he was sitting next to me. He wrapped his arm around me pulling me close. I grimaced slightly. "Weak powers like yours. I, on the other hand, am stronger."

I rolled my eyes, “Well, put your powers to good use and get out of here.” I pushed him off me. He flashed over to the other side of the room leaning against the stone wall.

“Now, what did sweet little Serena do to get herself locked in here? Playing around in the mortal world again?” He patronized me.

“It’s none of your business.” I snapped at him. “Don’t you have something better to do than bug me.”

He smiled, “Am I getting on someone’s nerves? My, you must have been a bad girl. Messing around with mortals. Why do you mess around with them when there are tons of demons who would love to have a pretty girl like you.” He stalked over by me. He put his fingers underneath my chin lifting me onto my feet by it. "Isn't that why you sold your soul to the demon king himself? To be fucked by a demon."

“I don’t want anyone of you.” I spat. “You guys lack any true emotion like love. I would just be another bang to you. You all just want to fuck me to get something over the king."

Bray laughed softly, "Love is a stupid emotion. Did you honestly think a demon could love?"

I looked down at the floor. "Once upon time."

He shook his head, "such a naive little girl. The demon king has had many queens before you. Most likely he will have many after you." He stated. "Were you really that stupid to think he would only love you for all of eternity? You're time is running short, sweet Serena. He is probably looking for a new bride as we speak."

I felt hot tears burn in my eyelids. I couldn't help myself, but let them fall. "You lie!" Was all I could get out as my sobs began to take over.

"Get out of here before Finn finds you here."

Bray shook his head chuckling softly. "I hope when he gets bored of you, he lets us play with you when he is finished. I can't wait, dear sweet Serena." He said cupping my face in his hand. "I'll be waiting." He said as he slowly disappeared. I dropped to the ground letting my tears fall. I knew about the other queens and how Finn had gotten bored of them. Did I really believe I would be different? I might have lasted the longest, but that meant nothing. Maybe he had already found a new bride to replace me. What if he is just waiting for her to sell her soul than throw me to the dogs like Bray.

I heard footsteps coming near to me. I groaned hoping that it wasn't Bray coming back to mess with my head more. Thankfully, it was Seth. He opened the iron gates to let me out. "The king would like to speak with you."

I nodded whipping my tears fast before I got off the floor. Seth raised an eyebrow when he noticed, but he didn't say anything. Just gently grabbed my arm leading me backup to the throne room.

"Your queen, your majesty." Seth said bowing to Finn who was sitting on his throne. His black robe draped around his neck. He

Finn looked me up and down as I stood there next to Seth. He nodded slowly, "thank you. Now leave me alone with her. Don't let anyone come in."

Seth nodded quickly leaving the room. I heard the heavy close behind him. I looked back up to Finn just in time for him to gesture me to come towards him. I sighed deeply as I moved towards his throne.

"I can tell you have been crying. Why?" He asked me. A hand reaching out to grab me closer. I pulled my hand away fast causing him to hiss."Still haven't learned your lesson have you? Do I need to have Seth go take you back?" I shook my head fast. "Than answer my question. Why have you been crying? I know it wasn't the dungeon."

I sighed, "I wasn't alone in the dungeon. Bray Wyatt came and visited me in there."

Finn grabbed both my hands pulling me close. "What did he say? Did he touch you?"

"He just told me that when you're done with me, he hopes you let me play with him. He said my time as your queen is almost done."

Finn chuckled slightly, "I would have figured with how you were acting that would be thrilled to be rid of me." He rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. "Be free of this place."

I shook my head, "Not to be thrown to the dogs at least." I sighed. "I still love you, Finn. I just act out cause it doesn't seem like you do anymore. You barely talk to me unless it's for sex. I meant it when I said you treat me like a sex toy. Maybe Bray was right and you are bored of me. Maybe, you found a new queen to take my place and are just waiting for her to sell her soul to you." I could feel tears begin to fall again. I couldn't stop them.

Finn stood up still holding my hands. He sighed looking into my eyes as he let go my hands, cupping his hands around my face. He whipped a few of the stray tears with his thumb. "There is no one else to replace you. You are the only one for me. Trust me, I have tried. You make me so mad sometimes I really do want to feed you to the dogs, but then I can't think of my life without you in it. I try to replace you with other women, but at the end of the day. You are all I want. That's why it makes me so angry when you run off with mortals. I am scared you regret selling your soul to me.”

I shook my head, “Well, sometimes. When you treat me like garbage I do. You make me just as angry.”

His eyes weren’t red this time. I had avoided them the whole conversation, but now I looked into his soft blue eyes. “Bray told me, I was foolish to think that a demon could love me.”

“He is trying to get in your head. He likes to play mind tricks on mortals.” Finn said with a sigh. “He is wrong. I am the foolish one. I have never fallen in love with a mortal til I fell in love with you. I don’t think I was in love with any of my other queens. Them I used as sex toys. Not you. Never you.”

“Why have you been treating me so badly than?”

“Stress? I don’t know. We are at war. Sometimes I don’t want to just sit around and talk. I just want to have sex and get my stress out.” He shrugged. “I am sorry. I truly am. ” He pulled me closer to kiss me. He kissed me softly.

“A demon saying sorry. I am shocked.” I giggled as I pulled away.”

“Don’t tell anyone. You might ruin my reputation as the king.” He laughed back. “Now,” he said his blue eyes turning darker. “I still haven’t finished your punishment.” He said as pulled the strings on his robe. He let it fall to the floor exposing all, but a small cloth that covered his sex. I bite my lip looking at his body. Even if I have seen it a million times, just the sight of his six pack makes me weak in the knees. He wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me close as the room started to fade and their bedroom started fade in.

I raised my eyebrow. "Didn't you say you were punishing me. Why are we in the bedroom?"

"Oh, I can still punish you here." He said turning me around so my back was to him.. He untied the back of my dress letting it fall to the floor. He kissed my shoulder blades gently as his arms wrapped my waist moving up to my breasts. He twisted her nipples. I moaned leaning my head back onto his chest. He pushed me towards the bed. I fell on my stomach onto the bed.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He commanded. I did as he said. He rubbed my ass gently before he smacked it hard. I yelped grabbing the sheets. He barely gave me time to recover before he smacked it again. He did it til my ass felt numb. He grabbed me by hair pulling me up. He reached around rubbing my clit gently. “Did you learn your lesson about running away from me?”

“Yes,” I moaned out.

He smacked my pussy hard. “What was that?”

I yelped, “Yes, daddy.” I repeated.

“Good girl,” He said rubbing my folds before slipping a finger in. He still held me tight by my hair against his chest. I started to rock my hips on his finger trying to get him to move them faster. He pulled out completely. He whispered into her ear, “Don’t move or else.” He pushed me back down on the bed getting me back on all fours. He rammed his cock deep inside me. He put his hands on hips to get himself to go deeper in me. I screamed in pleasure as I felt him hit my g-spot. With his brutal pace that he had set, I knew it wouldn’t last long.

“Daddy, may I cum?” I asked him as I felt my walls start to close around him.

“Since you asked nicely. I will let you cum.” He said reaching over to rub her clit. I screamed as I felt an orgasm wash over me.

He flipped me over onto my back, hooking my legs around his waist. He pushed back into me and began moving at a slower pace. I moaned closing my eyes a bit. He bit my neck making my eyes open fast. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, baby doll. You wanted me to make love to you and now you got it.” I nodded quickly meeting his eyes. He began to pick up the pace moving back to a faster and harder pace.

“I am going to fill you up, baby. Fill you up full of my cum.”

"Please, daddy, please fill me up." I begged. His movements become sloppy as he started to cum inside me. My second orgasm started causing my legs to shake. I moved my hips a bit as a I rode it out. Once it was over, he stopped his motions putting my legs down. He collapsed next to me on the bed.

He pulled me close to him, "I love you, my queen and you will be mine and only mine for all of eternity." He smiled at me kissing my head. "No one in the world in heaven, hell, or Earth could replace you."

#finn balor fanfiction #finn balor x oc #finn balor smut #finn balor #finn balor imagine #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe smut #stephy masterlist

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rebellect-writes · 4 years

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] Old enough that I'm getting tired of answering this. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I took a trip into Hell and found you.

[b]Name:[/b] Lazarus Donovan [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Laz will do. [b]Age:[/b] 40. Though he looks 35. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] May 28th 1971. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Questionable. [b]Occupation:[/b] Jack of all trades, that, and he's Twist's hound.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] WereDog. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://breederinfocenter.com/images2/20061111213659_074529_1.jpg[/IMG][LIST]For a supposed medium sized breed of dog, Lazarus’ canine half is actually quite big compared to some dogs and still not the biggest mutt on the block. He stands at 26 inches at the withers, and weighs in at 90lbs of streamlined muscle that can make some humans cringe in fear. From the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail; he’s 5 feet and 4 inches so it’s easy to get scared. He’s not a long coated German shepherd dog at all, though the thick black and tan fur would make you think so. Screw your pure blacks and your pure white variations; he loves his dog form the way it is. It makes it easier to blend in with some working dogs as the breed is generally used for labour. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] [URL=http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=Weredog&order=9&offset=96#/d2lw0fb]Scooby Snack? Yeah!... You idiot.[/URL][LIST]Of course he has an alpha form; it was practically beaten into him. Standing roughly at 6’11, and weighing in at 250lbs, Lazarus isn’t that much bigger in this form. Of course he’s a bit menacing but that’s a good thing – so he thinks – and isn’t something that anyone should want to meet in a dark alley in the middle of the night. Laz retains his black and tan markings in this form, though his fur is only a little thinner in this form then his full dog form. He looks like he’s a dog that can walk quiet comfortable on his hind legs really, with cone like ears, a muzzle packed full of fangs and hands with curved claws and a brush like tail. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] All his life. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta by choice (hides his alpha status).

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Josh Holloway. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/600full-josh-holloway.png[/IMG][LIST]Lazarus is 6’1 inches tall in his human form; he’s pretty average in the height department which is fine with him. He’s your average kind of guy in all honesty, he’s used to hard graft so he’s pretty toned, Lazarus only weighs in at a simply 200lbs even if he doesn’t look like it, and most of the weight’s packed away in muscles. With pale green eyes that darken considerably when he’s angry, the shaggy cut of dirty blond hair, and dusting of stubble finish off his rugged look quite nicely. Some day’s he clips his hair back, sometimes he forgets to shave. It’s not something he really pays attention to.

Does a sense of style matter, really? Well if you insist on it. Laz doesn’t like clothes and he doesn’t exactly hate them either. He’d be much more comfortable lounging about in a pair of jeans and a loose shirt than a suit – though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t look smart when he dresses up! He just needs to be poked and prodded hard to do so -, so his style doesn’t differ from torn and shredded jeans, open dress shirts and t-shirts and a pair of boots. Jewellery and tattoos now eh? Well he does wear the odd pendant or handmade wrist band. It’s just a matter of practicality most days. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST]Gee, you mean all those street smarts have gone for nothing? Shame. Other than that, he's good staying under the radar as a dog. Also, this is pretty important becuase not everyone can be as cool as he is. He’s a full blown animal servant, meaning that from the first mark he became less breakable and susceptible to vampire mind tricks. From the second mark, gave Mordichai the ability to draw power from him and taste food and drink through Lazarus. The third mark gave them both the ability to communicate telepathically with each other but only when his Master is awake. The forth mark gave him immortality by drinking his masters blood, better mental stabilisation/communication with his master and the ability to draw on Mordichai’s strength. Oh the perks of his job! [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Lazarusarus is a firm believer in ‘survival of the fittest’, that being said, he’s got a sort of soft spot for weaker dogs. He won’t actively help them, but he will keep other folks from breaking people even more if he can see that the ‘underdog’ can pull themselves through whatever task it is. What can I say? He likes a challenge and if he sees one, he’ll prod at it but, he’ll likely lose interest and go about his business after awhile. Idiots have little appeal to him. He’s a smart man, intelligent so he won’t rush into things from the word go. He’ll exploit weaknesses that he can find for his (and the his Master’s) own benefit if he can, and if he can’t, he knows when to cut his losses. Sure Lazarus can charm people, smile and joke around, he can also be cocky and egotistical at times, and closed off as well at times.

He loved once, or lusted, he doesn’t know what it was but he thinks its love. Oh sure he’ll deny it if he’s ever asked, but he knows the truth. He won’t open himself up fully to another person again, unless he can help it. Does that mean he’s looking for someone to open up to? Heck no. He’s just going to keep himself apart from people and still be around them. Trust issues is probably what you’d call it, actually, it’s what he’d call it to. The woman that stole his heart earned his trust, but when she left, that hurt him. So, he’s made it a personal mission in life to just not care what people think about him, and as long as they make no trouble that he has to fix, he doesn’t care what people do.

A common thing with Lazarus is, until you can prove yourself to him, you get a nickname. You can bitch and moan and demand that he use your real name, but he’ll stubbornly start making said nicknames worse. It doesn’t mean anything to him really, but dog’s minds are different in some respects. Scents and actions are easier for him to remember then names are. The only acceptation to this rule are the dominants to this dog, he’ll go out of his way to remember their names.

Donovan won’t take an insult lying down; to him that’s like losing an ear or something close to death. Making him sit out of things will make him whine and pout like a toddler deprived of sugar. He may or may not voice his complaints but to people that know him; you’d be able to tell by the tension in the man’s shoulders and the snarky attitude. It’s sort of the same way when he knows he has to submit to someone but doesn’t really want to. He may think he’s bigger and stronger, but if he’s forced into a position that makes him back down, he does it with as little snark as possible and takes off to the pub afterwards, or in the worst case scenario, takes a pocket knife to the inside of his arms to release the tension he feels. He hasn't cut for a long time, since before he was in love even, but it was an old habit and you know how they die don't you?

Lazarus doesn’t think of himself as mad, not in the conventional sense of the term. So he can kill without hesitating, it’s the predator in him, not the human. That and the fact that any good cat is a dead cat, was beaten into him when he was growing up. He’s not afraid to do what must be done to protect what’s his, if it means submitting to someone to get something he wants, he’ll do it. Practicality really when you think about it is something any animal knows. A weakness could get him killed, and he certainly doesn’t want that. He’s not afraid to bleed for a good cause either believe it or not, if a show needs to be put on, he’ll put his name forward and that will be that. Someone called him masochist when he was younger, so maybe that is true.

Marked by the Master vampire, Mordichai, hasn’t changed him much at all. Red (Violent Man) is someone he can relate to in some ways, and he’s pretty fond of that personality when he’s not being a prick trying to scare everyone. Blue (Business Man) is the side that draws out Laz’s more controlled side. He cares when Blue is around. Mordichai’s well being is one that Laz puts before his own. He’ll stop Red at a cost to him if he has to, distracted Blue and anything else that needs doing. The vampire is his master and owner, mind, body and soul. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Carving figurines and sketching. [*] Reading when he's alone. [*] Playing with his tennis ball when he's in his dog form. [*] When Mordichai isn't bugged by Kiss vampires. [*] Chasing cats in dog form. [*] Sleeping in occasionally. [*] Mordichai's attention. [*] Quiet nights at the Raven. [*] Walking instead of getting in a car or on a bus. [*] A challenge in any form. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having to suffer idiots on a regular basis. [*] Mordichai's disappointment. [*] Losing his ball. The last time it was under the couch. [*] Kiss vampires poking their noses in where they're not wanted. [*] Humans thinking that they're all that when they aren't. [*] Drunks in the club. [*] Being around other were-dogs for a long time without a reason. [*] A bad horror movie. [*] Rainy nights. [*] Not being able to find someone for Red to kill. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Repetitive shifting with little fuss and bother. [*] Doesn't mind being Red's puppet. [*] Partial shifting. [*] Marked all four times. [*] Keeps his eyes and his ears open for anything useful. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Not catching the change in Mordichai's moods. [*] He's too curious at times. [*] Silver still burns, even if he's a born shapeshifter. [*] He has a bit of a sweet tooth. [*] Won't ever allow his master to hurt a woman under 18. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Born back in the cold July of 1971, Lazarus Donovan was pushed into the world by a teenage mother named Aileen in a back alley in East Cork, Ireland. Aileen should’ve told her parents, she should’ve done a lot of things to ensure that the baby would be safe and sound but she didn’t. Instead, she’d hidden it until one day she couldn’t hide any longer, just like she hid that she could shapeshift. Unprepared for everything, the youngster dumped the baby the first she could find that would offer the babe some chance of survival, in the ambulance bay of the CMC (Cork Medical Centre) before fleeing and never looking back. The father was never notified, Aileen didn’t even know his name, didn’t even care about that dog.

The baby was stumbled upon by a human nun of all creatures. The human sister found Lazarus tucked away out of the worst of the cold weather, and heartbroken for the little mite, Sister Magdalena brought him inside to get checked over by one of the clinic doctors. There looked like there was no option for Laz at the time, declared fine by the doctor, the Sister had no choice but to contact the Priest that resided over the parish and go through the appropriate channels to get the baby into a loving home. For some reason Magdalena was protective of the whelp, she wanted to take him home with her and raise him as her own son, but she did not. The only thing she could give him was a name, and that was Lazarus. Lazarus’s earliest childhood memory is that of mean and spiteful nuns with bony fingers prodding and poking. Magda may have given him a name, but she had no say in where he went after she gave him up. During his earlier days in Cork, Lazarus knew one human family in the space of three years. The Donovan’s didn’t have him long, they didn’t even get to call him son and he didn’t get the chance to recognize them as parents before Mrs Donovan’s husband died in a car accident and his ‘mother’ put him back into care before moving to England. Not understanding what was happening around him, the wee lad just carried on like any normal child would.

Bounced around allot over the next few years from home to home and foster group to foster group, Laz finally hit a wall. He’d always know that he was different someway, but he didn’t know how different until one day he was kicking a football around in the park on his own and the next, he was a dog. A bloody big dog too, in his thirteen year old mind. It was his thirteen year old mind that passed it off as a dream the first time, and the second time it happened without his control, but everything fell apart when he hit fifteen. Laz was with his foster sister, Olivia. She was a great girl, pure human and also a strict catholic just like her parents. When she saw him shift, at first it was fun and games, but then she began to grow wary, thinking he was the devils hound and that her brother was unclean. When he shifted back, despite what he said and did, she began to panic and ran home leaving Laz to watch her go.

He could’ve followed, he wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead he shifted and went the other way, running for days and days until his paws bled and he couldn’t go any further. He stuck to the minor roads, out of the way, and never once went near humans. They didn’t understand him, he didn’t even understand himself. Eventually he found himself in Dublin, and he still hadn’t shifted. He wanted to be a dog, to forget the look of horror on Olivia’s face. That didn’t last though, it was perfectly logical for the youngster to want to hide and forget everything that was happening, but it just wasn’t meant to be as he found out a year later. Tearaway teenager Mary found him, scavenging on some scrubland that was passing itself off as a parkway. She coaxed him out with food, and he went to her. A year as a dog is a rough time, Laz had lost weight, forgot a lot of things, almost forgot how to shift back. Once the food was gone, so was he for a few days and they played this cat and mouse game for days, until finally Laz decided to stop running away. She’d proven she wasn’t going to hurt him, and he’d had a lot of time to think about things and what he wanted to do.

Eventually, he found his way back to human form. He had learnt a lot, noticed a lot too. Humans weren’t the only things out there. It was probably what brought him back into the world of the living, but with no money or place to stay, the teenager had to do what was necessary to get going. He stole, lied and cheated his way through the supposed conmen and women stalking Dublin’s shady alleys over the next few years. When he managed to get a place to stay for himself and wasn’t reduced to squatting as a dog, Laz found a job in one of the bars. He always kept an eye on Mary, she knew him as a dog, she didn’t know him as a human though and it was one of those things that he wanted to change. Ok, so he supposed he stalked her for a little while, in a platonic kind of way. It was hard at the time to get his emotions straight between human and canine. The pub he worked in was her regular, and he saw her every night coming and going with strangers. Eventually summoned up the courage to talk to her and she blew him off. Obviously, he’d said something wrong but Laz couldn’t work out what it was, pushing twenty one, he really didn’t need the aggravation of dealing with a woman when he was trying to be normal.

Over the next fourteen years Lazarus made a name for himself. He never had a stable partner; he worked and charmed the people around him. Did good things for the people he considered friends and eventually ended up buying the lease for the pub he worked in. The Kings Head became his little kingdom, a place he could control and do with what he wanted as the world changed outside the front door. The biggest thing that happened in his little life was that the supernatural came out of the closet in the late nineties. However in 2006, the supernatural world was very much a part of day to day life for the thirty five year old hound dog, Laz. He often spent time around other shapeshifters and vampires, he just enjoyed their company and that’s when everything turned upside down. A bar fight broke out, some angry vampire that had stopped in to get out of the rain had been assaulted by humans, two from the local church. More religious fanatics than anything else, they’d had that type in the pub before and they’d always punted them out on their backsides. It was complicated and Laz only remembers a little, just stepping in between a priest and the vampire, a blade punching into his side rather than the vampires. He didn’t even know why he did it; it just felt right to him, like he needed to be there. How was he supposed to know that he’d sparked the vampire’s curiosity with one act? Mordichai dispatched the rest of the rabble that was there, it was bloody and violent and by the end of the night the Kings Head was burning down. Laz didn’t care, the knife had done some serious damage that his body was struggling to heal and he was pretty much out of it.

He was dragged back to a house that Mordichai had rented while he was in the city, the vampire poked and prodded at him and Lazarus did the same back. He quickly found out that the vampire wasn’t just one person but three and he came up with names for each personality. Red, Blue and Mordichai. He must’ve done something right because in the last five years, he’s not wandered away from the vampire – actually, scratch that, he wouldn��t leave the vampire he called master – and his master hasn’t killed him. Supposedly, if Mordichai wanted him dead, then Red put his foot down on that buy giving Lazarus the marks of an animal servant binding the dog and master together for all eternity. That still doesn’t stop Mordichai from skinning him, or something really creative but one thing is for sure, they need each other and that’s that...No matter how much they deny it. [/LIST][/SIZE]

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szopenhauer · 4 years

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it seems that the average survey-taker is a white american female, aged 15-19, who has a car, a cell phone, and an extensive social circle. is this true for you? I’m a white female but not from America and I’m much older, have no car nor friends, just cellphone

have you seen any silent films? I love Buster Keaton

would you rather be an actor, director, or soundtrack producer? actress and director

have you seen nbc’s ‘hannibal’? thoughts? (if you haven’t, do you want to?) no and don’t want to, yuk

on websites where you’re permitted to change your username, do you do so often, or do you keep the same one for long periods of time? I usually change after a few months

does your computer have a name? I didn’t call this annoying piece of shit anyhow but maybe if I had a better computer...

are you eager to see how far science + technology will advance, or do you prefer an older way of doing things? do you think we are better off with these advancements, or not? I wish we had choice, I would like the world to be balanced, a bit of this and a bit of that, some advancements are necessary, some are cool but some are awful

what is your favourite comic book or graphic novel? does your favourite novel come in comic-book form? (if not, would you like it to?) I don’t read comics but from those I ever tried my fav manga was Doubt, webcomic (those I saw several but I forgot most of the titles by now) - Lackadaisy and I am fan of Aldebaran and Betelgeza

Any friends who are constantly venting about their boyfriend?: it was common - me listening complains about my crush’es exes or current boyfriends/lovers/crushes

Have you ever been ice-skating?: once, in high school, didn’t like it

Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep?: yeah

Did the end of Public Enemies make you sad?: I didn’t finish the movie

Do you obsessively apply lip-gloss or lip balm?: ewww, not at all

Do you think you’d have what it takes to shoot someone if you had to protect yourself?: I believe

What’s your most noticeable flaw?: ugh...

Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? yes and that was awful because it was full of dead bugs

When you can tell that someone’s lying, do you call them out on it?: often

How many other blogs do you follow on Tumblr?: more than 300

Does it ever scare you how fast time can go by?: could say so

Have you ever replied “OK” when someone confessed they liked you?: possibly :x

What does your grandma call you?: sigh...

What would you do for immortality and infinite youth?: dunno, definitely wouldn’t sell my soul or kill an innocent person but I would do some stuff for immortality

Would you rather have a pool or a hot tub?: neither

Have you ever worn a nipple tassel?: haven’t

Ever played hide and seek in the woods on horseback at night?: wow, that’s weirdly specific and now I want this somehow :o

Have you ever held a baby chick?: wild bird’s babies and I regret that because it’s not helfpul for them actually

Do you think wine tastes like rotten fruit? yep

Have you ever felt the need to hide something about yourself?: sometimes, from certain people, I should be myself most of the time tho

Do you think pearls are attractive?: umm...

Have you ever wished you had a different name? Which name would you choose? but I like male ones more or non polish

Have you ever customised an item of clothing? I designed and my mom helped me, made changes for me

Do you prefer drawing or painting? prefer to draw but look at paintings

Are you saving up for anything right now? What? if I could/had money to save then I would save for a bike, laptop, my own apartment etc.

Do you own any figurines? cats, dogs, elephants, clowns, horses and others

If you have any siblings, how much rivalry is between you all? it’s complicated

When did you last have itchy eyes? recently

Is it dark outside right now? it’s getting darker

Do you prefer framed photos or just sticking photos straight onto walls? I prefer them in an album, takes less space

What’s your favourite type of cake? used to love sękacz the most

Have you ever woken up from a dream and believed it to have been real? I was confused

If there’s a bug in your room, can you sleep or do you need to get it out? it depends on how annoying/dangerous it is

Do you prefer travelling alone or with people? I like to travel with my dad

What was the last baby animal you saw? pic or irl?

Do you give people high fives or hugs more often? hugs

How long have you known the last person you kissed? I knew her 10 years ago for awhile then we lost contact until this spring

When angry, do you get loud or quiet? depends

What do you currently hear right now? my parents talking

Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? dad

Last person you saw? parent

Did you have a nap today? nope

Are you easy to get along with? am not

When was the last time you were told you were cute? recently my gf called me cute and I’m like Catra about it

Have you ever forgotten to put on an oven mitt before you took something extremely hot out of the oven? not over, just hot pot

Do you own one of those airwick things that automatically sprays every few minutes? hell no

How many light bulbs are on in the room you are currently in? 3, one doesn’t work

Have you ever had your phone taken away at school before? almost, teacher heard it calling but before they found out who’s phone that was it stopped ringing and I was safe

Do you look better with or without glasses? I’m always ugly

What is your favorite type of bird? chicken, owl, flamingo, crow, barn swallow...

Did you go fishing a lot when you were younger? Do you now? I hate fishing, never been nor will go

Do you like more flowery scents or more clean scents? no scents, thank you Do you own a manual or electric toothbrush? manual, electric are horrible Preferred brand of toothpaste? m current is Meridol Piece of make-up you cannot live without? I can live without it

Do you prefer heels or flats? flats are more comfy but I know how to walk in heels, just don’t like to

Do you eat meat? yep Do you still watch cartoons regularly? I recently started watching She-ra with my gf but before that I didn’t watch any animated shows for a long time (just fragments/episodes maybe) Do you leave the TV on and sleep to it? never Ever considered cannibalism? r u serious?... this is scary, I’m gonna puke :x Ever licked a battery? I’m not stupid What does your name mean? lily which was also going to be my name Do animals go to Heaven? hope so Babies are… irritating

When was the last time you saw a doctor? it would be easier to say when I didn’t because I see them too often Do you know anyone who is a firefighter? used to What was the last wedding you went to? my sister’s

What’s your favourite alcoholic beverage? blergh... Do you “binge-watch” tv shows? two episodes a day max What is your opinion of clowns? love Did you wear a necklace today? not today How old are your parents? about 60 What’s something odd you do when you’re anxious or nervous? personal Have you ever received a compliment from a stranger? I have, more than one time Is your wardrobe big enough for all your clothes? it’s not Do you plan ahead when it comes to your outfits? nah Have you ever shaved your face? I shaved my eyebrows (not whole) What colour is your front door? silver with white paint coming off Do you take the stairs or the elevator? stairs Would you ever try herbal medicine as opposed to conventional medicine? I tried Do you wear open-toed shoes? I despise those Have you ever been to a petting zoo? yeah, I was petting a raccoon <3 and chinchillas are so surprisingly fluffy When was the last time you wore a button up shirt? weeks ago How many times have you consumed alcohol? once Do you often forget what you were just about to say? ocassionally when interrupted What’s your opinion of Australia? wouldn’t go there Do you own any striped sweaters? absolutely :) Have there ever been any forest or grass fires in your area? as every summer, also trash burn quite often

What color is the trash can in your kitchen? yellow What does the cover on the last book you read look like? it has two people sitting in front of each other Do you wear green on St. Patrick’s Day? I don’t celebrate this holiday, I dislike it Are you even Irish? not even partially Have you ever gotten a wig? What did it look like and what was it for? I have a bunch of wigs How often do you use a shower cap? What does yours look like? I don’t own any If you wanted to get a cat, would you adopt from a shelter or buy from a breeder? Why? but I don’t want a cat What’s the shortest you’d be willing to cut your hair? almost bald? What do you do when you find a spiderweb in your room? leave it be or clean it

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acklest · 5 years

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Why is your husband the most Iconic and sweetest person ever?! We(I'm confidently assuming that I'm not the only one) need to know more about him.

Oh, you may regret this.

(If you’re squeamish about blood, you might wanna proceed with caution. I promise I’m not trying to be dramatic. There’s blood in this.)

He is iconic, at least to me. And he’s probably really only “sweet” to me. Also to the cat, but he denies this. To everyone else, he’s just a quiet sort of guy with a permanently “done” look on his face.

What he planned to do from childhood was join the US Navy, because his Dad had been in the Navy. He wanted to be a technician on a submarine.

As soon as he graduated high school, he went to talk to a recruiter, and got sent to take the ASVAB. His scores on that were great and he was willing to enlist for a long hitch. The recruiter was like “it’s not even my birthday.”

But he failed the hearing part of his physical, so his status was “disqualified recommending waiver.” He didn’t know that his hearing had degenerated from type 2 (moderate) to type 3 (severe). The eval was to see if he could hear all the comms with his headset cranked up to max without hearing aids (which he hated wearing anyway). When he missed some of the cues, he was fully disqualified.

Then he had to figure out what his second choice for the rest of his life would be. Nothing really jumped out at him. He’d never really thought about it. But his family couldn’t pay for college, so he would need a job.

His best friend got him on as a cashier working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour gas station/mini-mart. During breaks, he looked over the course catalog from the local community college. He thought maybe he could do one of those non-degree cert programs, like becoming a welder or a mechanic.

A week before, a dude who had sued that chain of gas stations for damages from a personal injury found out that he wasn’t getting a settlement. He was across the street from the one where my husband worked. I guess lawsuit dude got enraged all over again, thought “I’ll show them”, and loaded the .22 he had in his jacket before heading over.

My husband was behind the counter, where the liquor was, thinking he was dealing with just another drunk customer at 4-fucking-AM. When he turned to ask if he needed anything else, lawsuit dude shot him in the side of the face from about six feet away. The bullet wound its way through his jawbone and he instinctively reached up to his mouth because he felt loose bits of his teeth on his tongue. (Sort of a dark in-joke, when one of us asks the other about a day that had obviously not gone well. “Bad. Not gargling-my-own-teeth bad, but not great.”)

He would’ve spun around by then to take cover behind the counter, but the sound of the gunshot stunned him because he heard it perfectly. He was born deaf/hearing-impaired, so he’d always heard things a certain way, through a certain amount of… I don’t know, static, interference, fog? But this he heard perfectly and it stunned him.

(“If their headsets went up that high, I could’ve joined the Navy.”)

So he didn’t turn in time to miss the second bullet, which hit him in the chest from the same range. As he turned, the third one hit him in the side of his stomach. The fourth one hit him in the thigh, nicking his femoral artery. Then his best friend showed up to tag in for his shift, heard the loud noise, ran in to help like a moron. So the last thing my husband heard before he blacked out was his best friend screaming at the guy to stop, and then a few more gunshots after that.

If a Jeep full of hard partiers hadn’t pulled up to get gas and ran next door to call 911, he’d be dead right now. Of course, lawsuit dude was hell and gone by then.

He woke up in the hospital ten days later, heavily drugged. He tried to talk but they had done something to stabilize his jaw so he couldn’t speak. He was in and out for a couple of days after that.

A day or so later, the thoracic surgeon sat down and told him that he’d died a couple of times, and that they tried to get the bullet out of his chest, but it had ended up less than 4cm away from his heart, so it was too high risk. They would have to leave it in. He apologized for how wide the scar was from when they opened his chest, because they had to work so quickly. When they brought him in, he was covered in blood, all over. His hair had matted together from lying in it until the EMT people got there. One of them told him later, “We saw the booze behind the counter and assumed a bullet had hit a couple of bottles of red wine.”

Not so much.

His best friend had died in the ambulance on the way.

There was two years of recovery, facial reconstruction for his jaw, lots of dental work, physical therapy, follow-up procedures, and so on. There was a court trial that dragged on and on.

It hurt when he breathed in, it hurt if he laughed. It all hurt. He’s a big dude, 5'10, shaped kinda like Wolverine (comic Wolverine, not Huge Yakman Wolverine). His health had always been good. He said he felt like he was being punished for not appreciating it enough while he had it. Up til all that, he’d been a devout Catholic, but that burned away real quick. He says that the 18 year old working at the mini-mart was a different person than the one who got wheeled out of the hospital a couple of months later. He didn’t know that guy.

He spent the next ten years on what I call a Chuck Norris tasting tour, where he was likely suicidal but not aware of it. He survived two terrible motorcycle accidents, a spectacularly failed marriage, he was thrown off a horse and hit the ground with a thud about 30 feet below, and then a drunk driver plowed into the back end of his car at top speed and he ended up ass over tea kettle in a ditch.

A few months after that, he started having terrible chest pains. He thought it was just pain from the impact with the steering wheel, which broke a couple of ribs. But when it kept going even after his ribs had healed, he went back to the hospital. The impact had shook stuff around and now the bullet was moving closer to his heart. Moving very very slowly, but yeah. So they had to open him up again to get it out.

(“Would you like to keep it?”

“…What?”

“Some people like to keep the bullet.”

“Uh. No. Thank you. I think a decade’s enough.”)

Fast forward to ‘98. I was a year or so off of a devastating event/blue screen of death thing of my own. I had a baby that I had never planned to have because I wussed out of the adoption process (I’m not saying I regret that, I’m just saying). I was on a little death-seeking tour of my own, when some mutual friends pushed us together. I do not know why. Maybe because we were the same amount of “over it.”? Maybe to take us both out of the dating pool at the same time, thereby making it safer for everyone? “You know someone who’s a walking disaster? Me too!”

The wheels almost fell off the wagon a couple of times. He told me he loved me and I didn’t talk to him for a couple of months. He sent me an instant message that said, “I am not playing Peter Gabriel outside your goddamn window. Get the fuck over this.” The age gap (22 years) made him pull away a bit there for awhile, but we didn’t need any Peter Gabriel for that shit either.

Nothing really surprises him or catches him off guard. This sort of weird Midwestern Zen thing that I don’t really understand because I’m kind of the opposite. Our communication is weird because neither one of us talks about anything that’s really bugging us, but we kind of talk around it.

I asked him to marry me a few years after we’d moved in, and he said “I don’t know, the last one didn’t go too well.” (A charming understatement.) I was cool with that. I was like… 83% cool with that. Almost a year later, while we were watching a movie, he turned to me and said, “Yeah.“

A YEAR later.

“Yeah?” Like I would fucking know what he was talking about.

“I’ll marry you."

"About time. Would you say that you were trying to decide the entire year or was it more of an on-and-off thing?”

“Oh, fuck off."

Anyway – courthouse, Vegas, etc.

What I need you to know about him, more than anything, are these three things:

1) When one of my family members (an uncle I didn’t know well) showed up to threaten the two of us, he quietly took that man by the arm and walked him out to the parking lot. I was watching from our doorway. I thought I was about to see him rip the guy’s head off and go bowling.

I didn’t see him make an angry face. I didn’t hear him raise his voice. It was a quiet conversation, and then that man backed away, got in his car, and left. That was 15 years ago, and I haven’t seen him or heard from him since, though I got a letter from my biological mother the week after, asking what kind of psychopath I was living with.

Still no fucking clue what he said, though.

2) His idea of asking me to move in with him back in ‘98 was to start replacing the furniture in my apartment with new furniture, but leaving that new furniture at his apartment. "Got you a new desk."

"I have a desk.”

“Your desk isn’t gonna go with the chair.”

“What chair?”

“The chair I bought you last week.”

“You bought me a chair last week?”

“Yeah, come over and look at it.”

As near as I can tell, his plan was to slowly replace all of my furniture but keep it at his apartment and to slowly move me in a box of things at a time until I was like “Wow, all my stuff’s over there.”

3) When little kids ask him about the inch-wide scar from his collarbone all the way to his navel, with a narrower scar on top of that one from the second surgery, he tells them that he was shaving with a straight razor and suddenly sneezed really hard.

#this is your captain speaking #not spn #also there's probably so many typos

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lord-explosion-baku · 6 years

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Dancing’s Not a Crime (Unless You Do It Without Me) pt. 8

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!reader, Todoroki x fem!reader

You flirt and tease with a certain hotheaded classmate of yours without realizing how far it has escalated and someone gets a little jealous.

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff

A/N: I was kinda scared that I couldn’t continue the story but my good brain finally knocked on the imagination door and yelled for five hours so here we are! This is probably one of my longer stories but I reread it and it went by so fast??? How does that happen.

Part 7

“Oh my god,” Mina said examining your neck. It had been a few days since Bakugou had left a hickey on your neck but it still shown against your skin. You had to take extra precautions with it, making sure nobody could see it (even though you knew Aizawa already knew about it when he made a comment about having a nasty “bug” bite in the morning) so you covered your neck with concealer but you had sweat it off during your homeroom class. There was no hiding the mark from Mina. “It’s HUGE!” She gushed tracing a finger over the raised skin.

Your head was in your hands. “I know,” you mumbled into your palms.

“I was right. I was so right,” you could hear Mina’s smile in her voice, “you and Bakugou. You guys are so steamy together. A fiery couple.”

“Mina, keep your voice down,” you gave her a slight push. You were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, waiting for the rest of the Bakusquad to join you. Bakugou has given you “permission” to sit with them over the weekend. You told him you didn’t need his permission but you knew you probably wouldn’t sit with them if he hadn’t told you that you could. You thought back to that day and blushed. “We’re not a couple,” you said out loud.

“Because you’re a stubborn piece of shit,” Mina laughed. “And because you don’t wanna hurt Todoroki’s feelings. ‘Just friends,’ my ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Todoroki’s name. Sure, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you already did, you have been for awhile now without realizing it. Yes, you didn’t want to make him jealous but he already was, which he clearly displayed by punching Bakugou in the face. And of course, you really wanted to “just be friends” with Todoroki but you couldn’t deny the feeling you got in your stomach when he was so close to your face, when everything about him, his eyes fixed on you, his cool breath blowing against your ears, and his warm familiar voice embraced you through every letter he articulated. You shook your head.

You looked over to the table where Todoroki was sitting with Yaoyorozu. You knew he could feel your gaze on him, he always did, but he didn’t turn towards you. Instead, he continued a conversation with the raven haired beauty.

“What did he even say when he say the hickey, by the way?” Mina asked.

“He said he was going to kiss me,” you said, absentmindedly, poking at your food.

For once, Mina was speechless. Her yellow and black eyes widened at what you had said, her mouth hanging open.

“Wait-“ you started as Mina bounced up and down in her seat, “I mean, he said it differently. Like, I was leaving and he just- I don’t know! Stop looking at me like that!”

“Did you kiss him? OH MY GOD, DID YOU KISS TODOROKI!”

“Mina, shut the FUCK up!” Some other students were starting to look your way and your cheeks were burning from your blush. You whispered, “no! I didn’t kiss him. He said he wouldn’t kiss me while I was... thinking about Bakugou. Not while I had a hickey from him.”

“Ohhhh my god,” Mina drawled out, quieting down, still bouncing, “oh man, he must be livid, knowing that Bakugou stole your first kiss away from him!”

You considered that for a moment before saying, “Bakugou wasn’t my first kiss. Todoroki was**. I mean, I don’t know if it counts but if we are being technical...”

“What? Was it like a cute like ‘we’re innocent elementary schoolers that don’t know better, let’s kiss like our parents,’ childhood friends type of kiss? Because that doesn’t count.”

“No,” you said. You had doubted that either you or Todoroki had ever seen your parents kiss. “It was earlier this year.”

Mina’s jaw dropped for the second time today.

Before she could say anything more a tray was slapped on to the table across from Mina where Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero we’re sliding in. Kaminari was saying something about the relationship between Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Sero looked obviously bored while Kirishima tried his best to look invested in the conversation.

“Who fucking cares?” An angry voice growled next to you as Bakugou slid into the table seat. Your body temperature rose rapidly and your heart started pounding against your chest. Why were you suddenly so nervous? His arm brushed against your shoulder and it sent your body a tingling sensation that you did not invite. You spent the entire weekend, not only fighting but also making out with this boy, and suddenly you were a nervous school girl? You thought about excusing yourself.

Kaminari ignored Bakugou, “I’m just saying! Even though F. Scott Fitzgerald dedicated all his novels to her, even though he loved her so damn much, Zelda deserved better than him. Zelda deserved the world.”

“I agree,” you choked in. “He didn’t support her craft even though, with her support for him, he became a world renowned author. He dismissed her passions and she was struggling with her mental illness he never got her the proper help when she needed it. He loved her, sure, but he probably would have preferred to have her as a pet than as another person with her own thoughts and aspirations.”

Kaminari grinned at you. “I’m glad I’m not the only one enjoying American lit!”

Bakugou huffed. “I enjoy it plenty, idiot!” He said opening a sealed container revealing something thick and chunky you couldn’t identify. It was a yellow substance enveloping a rice ball. “I just think it’s a waste of time, dwelling on a bunch of dead people,” he mumbled into his steaming plate.

You stared at his food trying to figure out what he was having. You looked down at your simple cafeteria lunch and back at him as he took a bite of his, whatever it was. He saw you eyeballing his food and held his chopsticks up to your lips. It smelled delicious. “Want a bite?” He asked.

You parted your lips and he plopped a bite sized portion into mouth. A warmth enveloped your tongue. At first you were taken back by how spicy it was but there were tangy and rich elements that paired with the heat perfectly. It was smooth and sensational. Bakugou watched you taste his food carefully. You swallowed.

“Wow,” was all you could say.

“It’s Thai pineapple curry,” he said offering you another bite that you gladly took. You blushed, realizing that Bakugou was feeding you in front of his friends who were politely trying not to stare at the two of you.

“Wooow,” You said again more dreamily, swallowing the second bite that was even better than the first. You were adjusting to the heat level of the curry. “Compliments to the chef!”

“I added a good level of coconut milk to the curry to balance out the spice. I like my food hot but the coconut milk definitely helps give it a richer element,” he said while he took a bite of his own.

“Wait, are you saying that you made this?!”

Kaminari snickered while Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Everyone is always so surprised that I cook.”

“Bakugou, this is incredible!” You beamed at him.

You could tell he was trying to hide his relief with a smug smile. “It’s not even my specialty. If you want, I could you cook you dinner sometime. Maybe this week?” He said offering you another bite that you gladly took.

Without thinking about it, you smiled and said, “that would be really nice.”

“So, it’s a date.”

You nearly choke.

“Go out with me,” Bakugou had pinned you pinned to ground in the middle of the grassy field. You had found Bakugou at a park after he had turned his location on. You had been frustrated and you wanted to fight.

“I thought I told you,” you struggled underneath his hands, “don’t give me anymore dirt on you! Ventum est ad partum*!” A gust of air shot from you causing Bakugou to fly back. He easily landed on his feet. You bounced back up.

“You used your quirk. That’s cheating!” He shouted as you ran at him kicking your feet in the air aiming for his face. He caught your leg and held it mid-strike. “And illegal,” he mocked.

You grabbed his arm that held your leg and tried swinging around him so you could knock him down but he let go of you at the last second causing you to fall flat on your back, knocking the wind out of you.

“Tough luck, princess. I hope you don’t rely on your quirk more than your body in combat. You never know when you might be handicapped.”

You groaned. As if you didn’t hear that enough from Aizawa.

Bakugou rolled onto the ground next to you. He was close enough that you could smell that familiar toffee scent. It was curious but nice. He traced a finger over your shoulder blade, sending chills down your body. “What’s one date gonna do?”

You whined, “I’m not done fighting.”

“That’s too bad. I am. I can head home now, unless you wanna answer me.”

You turned to him. He had a soft expression on. One that you hated. You were so used to the pissed off, power hungry, winner winner, Bakugou, that when he was... friendly, for lack of a better word, you didn’t know what to do with him. You didn’t know how to react. It was easier for you when he was your competition. It was easier for you when you didn’t want to kiss him.

“Well then,” you said, giving him a daring look, “you can head on home.”

He scoffed and rolled on top of you, again, straddling you. You leaned down towards you ear and whispered, “say it like you mean it.” He kept his lips by your ear. When you didn’t push him away, he started to kiss your neck, around the spot he had left a hickey the night before. You let out a moan, permitting him to continue.

Mina had her hand gripped on to the side of table, holding it as if she would fall over if she were to let go, Kirishima, widened eyes, stared straight up to the ceiling, his face almost as red as his hair, Sero, who had finished drinking his water, sat frozen with his empty bottle pressed again against his lips, and Kaminari stared at you and Bakugou, a stupid smile curling up on his face.

At that moment you felt like you could die.

You looked at Bakugou, who was casually eating his Thai food, unphased by what he said.

“Hhhh-ummm,” You stupidly managed to vocalize something. Bakugou took another bite of his curry, a subtle smile painted on his face. “Okay,” you finally said, grabbing your chopsticks to start digging into you lunch.

Bakugou picked up his plate and poured some of his curry on top of the rice the school had given you.

“What’s nice about curry is that it can make any plain meal turn into a good one,” was all he said. You mentally cursed at yourself for being so easily influenced by good food.

Everyone at the table continued as if things were normal.

Bakugou was waiting for you at the bottom of the steps of UA high with arms crossed and a cool expression in his face. Your heart skipped a beat upon seeing him. Why was he waiting for you?

“So,” he said as he started walking with you down the long path the lead up to the school, “what do you say Thursday night? I could pick you up from your place around 6:30/7:00 and we could walk to my place, where I’ll be cooking for you?”

“Um,” you stuttered out suddenly very nervous, “could we maybe do it Friday night? I know my dad and he doesn’t really like me doing too much on weekdays. He’s pretty serious when it comes to school and I can’t really lie to him about my work load.”

“Friday works too.” You continued to walk and the back of his hand brushed against yours a little more than a few times. God damn, this kid. You knew exactly what he was trying to do. “Would I be pushing it if I asked if I could walk you home right now?”

“Yes,” you fired back immediately, your heart pounding. You couldn’t risk him seeing Aizawa. You didn’t know if he would be staying later at school to grade, if he’d be out patrolling, or if he’d already be home, waiting for you. And you didn’t like Bakugou being so fucking nice.

He gave you a funny look but he didn’t question you. “Oookay.”

“There is something you should know,” you stopped walking and looked up at Bakugou. He nodded allowing you to continue. “My dad, he’s pretty cool with me being, uhh, independent of him but he’s... slightly old fashioned.”

“Alright,” he said waiting for you to continue. You bit your lip. “So... what? Home by ten and all that?”

“No, not like that,” you tapped your foot nervously. “He’ll want to... meet you.” He already knows you, Jesus, he’s going to get a kick out of this.

Bakugou laughed. “Yeah, that’s really fine.”

It’s really not. “Kay.”

“You know, you’re funny,” he said as you continued to walk.

“How so?”

“When you’re fighting, or rather, whenever you’re in action, you’re so confident and poised. You know what the fuck you’re doing and you don’t let anybody get in your way,” he said then he looked you up and down. You were pulling your fingers through your hair, nervously. “And when you’re in a casual setting you’re different. Not bad, different, I think it’s cute but you get nervous or timid. Unsure of yourself. Polite, almost.”

You’re one to talk, you thought. Around everybody else he was a hot headed monster, when the two of you fought against each other he was unforgivingly flirtatious, and when he was alone with you he was a goddamn gentleman. It was confusing.

“It’s like when you use your quirk, you become a different person.”

Goosebumps were raised on your skin. A different person. You dreaded that. Your quirk, did things to you that you didn’t have control over and, of course, Bakugou of all people had noticed that.

“Yeah,” You half laughed. “I’m really funny.”

** I plan on explaining the Todoroki kiss in “If He’s The Cold Then She’s The Disease” If I ever get it lmfaoooo

*Ventum est ad partum- To summon a wind

The next chapter is gonna dig a little bit into the reader’s and my OC’s past. Give a bit of face to her villainous bio parents. Fun stuff. My neck hurts from head banging to bohemian rhapsody.

Part 9

Tag list: @colagirl5 @izzy206-2001 @chanelxberlinstark @funfettiiicake @fangirl-on-bitches @colorbookshd d @doriichii @meggy126 @tortuga-sanchez @thatpandajournal @lilacbunni @fabulous-dani @quenixy @reliefofcomedic @sami-raye @geektastic84 @chickennuggetsarequestionable @yournewstalker @rubycubix @maizonolovemail @yandere-inamorata @ayeputita @brightbunny @animefreak774 @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @miitaart @thewinterserpent @ferntea @bemyhero-academia @allfortodoroki @graceyouwithmypresence @theugliestahegao

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bi-writes · 6 years

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untitled—boxer!tom chapter one

boxer!roommate!bestfriend!tom x fem!reader series masterlist

warning: this chapter contains mature language and themes summary: we keep each other in the dark, and i hate being blind word count: 4.8k complete masterlist (updates depend entirely on response)

January 2018

Nothing was ever simple. Maybe for awhile, it seemed that way, but the simplicity of routine was bound to be interrupted by life’s other...treasures. Desire, greed, desperation, temptation.

These things followed you wherever you went. It intoxicated the parts of you that tried to be whole. It destroyed the parts of your surroundings that wanted to be good. You saw the damage it did every time you looked at the room across the hall. The door that remained ever locked, the silence around the flat that was constant. It happened because of you, it happened because of him, and everything that used to be simple was a grace when it emerged.

The simple things, the little things, you had learned to cherish. Because they came far and few, and you were afraid that every time sweet moments came forward, it was the last you’d see of them, the last you’d see of him. You were desperate now—desperate not to lose him. He was desperate, too—desperate to make you see him. We stand in sunshine, but maybe you hide in my shadow.

You did see him. You saw him all the time. You saw him when you closed your eyes, you saw him when you opened them. You saw him in sunlight and in moonlight, and despite every trace of blood and bruising you discovered on him, you only grew more enamored with him. It made every memory you made with him all the more painful to keep.

It was sweet music, but it wasn’t the radio. It was the quiet hum of your voice as you turned the coffee pot on, the light blinking as the deep aroma of freshly-brewed grounds permeated the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, his head tilted to the side as he watched you tap your fingers on the counter.

“Mornin’,” he said softly. You turned on your heels, pushing your hair behind your shoulders. His appearance nearly made your eyes bug out of your head, but you managed to compose yourself in time. You gave him a small smile, rubbing your eyes of sleep. You looked comfortable in a sweater and shorts, the sunlight making you squint your eyes to study him.

“Morning,” you replied. You quieted the song, and Tom averted his eyes back to your face. He had been watching you everywhere else for too long. Can you see me, even in the dark?

“Don’t let me stop your rehearsal,” he joked, a playful smile coming over him. You bit back a laugh as you turned back to the coffee, away from his pout, and poured yourself a cup. You sucked in a breath when you felt Tom come up behind you, reaching over you to grab himself a mug. His body was nearly against yours when you turned to face him, forced to look up at him. You ignored the healing scratches along his forehead; you were too focused on his eyes to pay attention to anything else.

Tom was wearing sweats and nothing else. His olive skin looked smooth and wonderful in the morning sun, and you resisted the urge to run your fingers along the surface. He already had his bag slung over his shoulder and his headphones around his neck. You thought he couldn’t get any closer until he reached behind you to pour himself a cup of coffee, a smile tugging at his lips as he backed away. You sucked in deep breaths as he leaned against the counter across from you, his eyes never leaving yours.

His smile could fool you. You could pretend you were in love when he looked at you like that. Are we beside each other, or am I behind you?

“Are you out already?” You asked, picking up your cup and moving to sit on one of the stools behind the counter. Tom nodded his head at you, savoring the taste of sweet caffeine. He kept glancing at the door, waiting for his ride, but his gaze always made its way back to you. “Should put on a jacket. It’s freezing.”

Tom smiled, “Yeah, I will. Just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” you laughed. You would never deny how handsome Tom was, and even if he wasn’t sure how you felt, it didn’t hurt to show off to a pretty woman. Your giddy, nervous stares were interrupted by the quiet knock at the door. You slid off the counter, moving to open it. Tom sipped at his coffee as you did, reaching into his bag to pull a sweatshirt and beanie on. He almost wanted to tell you not to open the door; you looked lovely this morning. He wanted to keep you to himself, just for a little while longer.

“Hey, darlin’,” a soft voice greeted you. Harrison stood at the door, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He had an army green jacket over a buttoned red flannel, and he was moving from one boot to the other in jeans. You moved aside to let him in, and you shut your eyes as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek. You turned away from him as you shut the door. How many do you hide in the dark with? Can they see you, too?

“You workin’ later?” Tom asked as he finished his coffee, dropping the mug into the sink. You hugged your arms to yourself, nodding your head to confirm his question. He licked his lips, checking the time on his phone before nodding at Harrison towards the door. Harrison had a few cookies in his mouth as he realized it was time to go. You giggled a bit as you met his eyes, and crumbs spilled out of his mouth as he tried to smile back. “Midnight tonight, right?”

“Yeah, midnight,” you echoed as they pushed past you. Tom lifted his headphones over his ears, following Harrison out of the door. You went back towards it to shut it, but Tom placed his foot between the doorway to stop you. You looked up at him, frowning in confusion. He smiled a bit, a boyish blush on him as he leaned forward to hug you. You let out a long breath as he held you close, and you buried your head into the crook of his neck as he kissed your forehead. Is it warm where you hide?

“I’ll be there, (y/n), won’t be late.”

“Okay,” is all you mumbled into his skin. Tom pulled away, running his knuckles along the side of your face for a moment. This was the kind of moment you committed to memory. His eyes, dark and lively as he stared at you. It was in moments like this that you felt you could be falling in love, that you could be something more. But then Harrison’s voice rang out, hard and hurried, and he was gone.

Tom tried to be there, he did. For the past two years, there was always someone waiting for you to walk you home. Always in the same spot, leaning against the streetlight, waiting to make sure you made it home without so much as a scratch. And while Tom had seemed to climb up the ladder in underground fame, he had never forgotten about you. Never.

You sometimes saw the money, but you chose to ignore it. Not at first, but you learned to look the other way. Not for him, you looked away for your sanity. He was never able to deposit all of it at once, and you sometimes found it hidden underneath cushions or behind cabinets. When you would glimpse at the stacks of hundreds, you would panic a bit and turn away and pretend you had never seen them. Something once so simple, what was it now?

At first, he didn’t try to hide what he was doing. You knew why. He would come home, hands still wrapped in bloody tape, sweat still dripping down his back. Sometimes he would have a group of laughing, drunk men behind him. It was those nights that you would hide in your room and try to cover your ears enough. His manager, his trainer, his assistant, his team, they would come stumbling into the apartment, causing chaos and emptying your fridge. When they began to bring girls, however, that’s when you put your foot down. You never saw any of those men ever again, not at home.

Tom had done a lot of apologizing, but not with words, and not without motive. He stopped coming home looked completely wrecked. He was always clean, always quiet, always attentive. He stayed for dinner more often and washed the dishes every once in awhile. He kept to himself, cleaned his room when you commented on the pile of clothes in the corner, fixed the cable antenna when you complained. After nearly two years of pushing you away, Tom was shaken out of his mood, but only after you had asked him a serious question, and only after he realized there were more important things than petty games.

You wondered how many beers someone could drink in a week before they completely dropped dead. Tom was on the couch, his gym bag underneath his outstretched legs as he sipped momentarily from a cold bottle, his eyes and ears trained on the low hum of the television. You dropped your bag by the door, his eyes flickering over to you for just a second before he turned back to his show.

He did a double-take. When he looked back at you again, he cursed under his breath when he noticed you were wearing your uniform. He put the bottle down, standing up quickly.

“What the fuck, (y/n)? You were at work? Why didn’t you call me?” Tom growled. “Christ, love, are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?”

You ignored his questions, sniffling as you slid your jacket off. Tom ran a hand through his hair when he noticed your uniform torn at the sleeve, the threads pulled a bit, your shoulder exposed. Tom’s thoughts turned dark immediately, and his heart dropped right into his chest.

“Oh, fuck.”

He had trouble breathing all of the sudden. The sting behind his eyes struck him first. He saw the way you gazed blankly, the way you stood stiffly. It was never something spoken out loud, but he had promised to himself that he would keep you safe, and he had failed.

Today he had failed.

Tom ran a hand down his face, swallowing hard as he pictured you. Pictured you struggle, pictured you fight, pictured you yell and bite. He knew you weren’t one to go down easy, and although you seemed untouched, he knew in your head you had been touched all over.

You were okay. Nothing but the tear on your dress and a few bruises on your wrist. But you were shaken a bit, frozen to your spot. Tom breathed shakily, reaching for you timidly. You let him pull you into his chest, let him rest his head against yours. You may have stood in his shadow, but it didn’t make the darkness any less terrifying.

“Shit, are you okay?” He whispered. “I fucking told you not to do this, God dammit, I—“

“Was some guy, been noticing him on the walk back sometimes,” you said flatly, interrupting him. Tom ran a hand down your back, soothingly. “Left my phone on the counter, ’n my manager came to find me. ’s fine, Tom.”

“It’s not fucking fine, what part of this is fine? What’s gotten into you?”

“Wasn’t sure it mattered to you. Thought you were busy, with your girls ’n all,” you said bitterly, pulling away. You pushed him off of you, finally allowing yourself to let out a choked breath. You didn’t blame him, no, but you were afraid to call—afraid to call because he had made you feel so isolated.

You looked away from him, making your way towards your room. Tom cursed again before he stopped you, shaking his head as he turned you back to face him. You didn’t have to speak to him, but you had to know. You had to know he cared, you had to know he loved you. Even if you didn’t believe it.

His fingers traced over the tear in your sleeve, his eyes watering a bit as he moved his hands to cup your face. Your lips trembled slightly, but you forced yourself to stay composed. You did see the love in his eyes, you did. There were no shadows over you like this, there was no hiding.

“‘m sorry, (y/n),” Tom breathed, his thumbs running over the soft skin of your cheeks. He shook his head again, licking his lips as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. His lips lingered there as he held you close. No shadows in this place—you had to know that.

“Don’t be sorry,” you let out, and you meant it. It wasn’t his fault, not at all. But the pity, the sorrowful kisses, this was what you were afraid of.

“Then what can I do? Shit, I…what can I do?”

You didn’t blame him. But he blamed himself. And he vowed then and there to never let his egotistical, asshole attitude he’d been holding for so long to ever come before you again.

You put your hands over his, shutting your eyes as he kissed your forehead again. You decided to take advantage of his guilty heart. You couldn’t dance in a helpless circle, not any longer. You couldn’t stand in the dark forever.

“Can you teach me?”

Tom licked his lips again, tilting his head to the side, “Teach you? Teach you what?”

“To fight back. Teach me how to fight back.”

You played a lot of games in the past, back and forth the score went, always with Tom. Instead of talking to each other like adults, you liked to switch from defense to offense. When you had met the boy, with nothing but hopes and dreams in your little heart, you would have never seen yourself doing this to him. Hurting him, playing him, getting a reaction out of him. You would have never recognized yourself.

It started with the money. Everything started with money—money was what fuels your dreams, carries your worries, relieves your stress, fulfilled the holes you couldn’t stuff with what you really desired.

When you and Tom realized that dreams were few and far to come, you were too deep in debt to crawl out. What was once a sweet friendship, filled with love and support and sweet memories, became ugly arguments and frustrated conversations. So Tom did what Tom did best—he fought and fought and fought and fought, and he caught eyes along the way. Dangerous eyes, greedy eyes, persuasive eyes. Beady, dark, hellish eyes, ones that came back to you at night.

It was the fighting next. Instead of just playing cat and mouse at the gym, Tom was coming home with ideas, ideas he tried to plague you with. He tempted you with a big future, a lot of money, a chance at the dreams you never got to see become real. He played at your vulnerable heart, on the wishes he knew you would kill to become true, and he tried to make you support his death wish by dangling your heart in front of your eyes.

That wasn’t fair, not to you. Tom was a boy, and like a boy, he didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He only saw his passion for hitting something and getting rewarded for it, not the aftermath. He didn’t think about the late nights, the threats, the fame, the physical toll it would take on his body, the mental toll it would take on you.

He saw money, he saw opportunity, and he would be damned if you would take it away from him. He was ready to go all in, but he didn’t realize his love for you was deeper than he thought. Could he see you from where he stood?

It was you and Harrison that pushed the games to a whole new level. Tom thought he could win these games, thought he could play with you. You hated that he thought he had that kind of power over you. He couldn’t buy you, he couldn’t do that to you. So when Harrison showed up at your apartment looking for his best friend, you were angry, and that kind of anger was dangerous. It was lethal.

You remembered the first Friday night Tom came home after he discovered your secret, clear as ever. You remembered how he smiled at you through bloody teeth, spit in the sink in spite, threw the cash on the counter as if to taunt you.

The green scattered across the marble, the crumpled hundreds dirtying the surface with something ugly. You slipped off the stool, cursing under your breath as you watched Tom throw his bags by the door. He met your eyes angrily, a scowl on his face as he padded into the kitchen to spit in the sink. The silver basin splattered with blood as he wiped his mouth, his wet fingers running through his hair. He didn’t need to fix his hair, it was as messy as ever, but you knew he did it to show off.

His hands were just as messy. Littered with blisters and raw, split skin. His knuckles were yellowing in some areas, the blood already curling into the purple bruise it was bound to become. Your mouth parted in disbelief as you eyed his sweaty, sooted face and the smirk he wore. His attitude was ugly, it made you want to throw up with disappointment.

“What the hell is that?” You breathed, leaning over to grab the bills. Tom licked his lips, his teeth peeking through just a bit, still flooding a bit with blood. His own teeth had scratched the walls of his mouth, and he kept having to rinse it to rid himself of the crimson.

“That’s rent for the next four months, darlin’,” Tom chuckled bitterly, grabbing a rag from his gym bag and using it to wipe at his hands. They were clammy and dirty, bleeding from the crevices and in need of attention. He had won tonight, and he was determined to win over you as well.

Arrogant asshole.

You picked up the bills with shaky fingers, dropping them at his feet. You looked up at him, your eyes watering with your anger. You sniffled, putting both hands on his chest and pushing him backwards.

“I don’t want your dirty money, Tom. Get it out of here. Now.”

“’s not dirty money, I won that,” he disagreed, stiffening his body to your pushes. He remained in place as you pushed at him, your eyes overflowing with angry tears. They fell gently. You bent down to gather the cash, lifting it into your fists before shoving them back into his face. Tom sputtered as he nearly swallowed the money, dropping the rag to shove your hands out of his proximity.

“It’s dirty money, dammit! Get it out of here, Tom!”

“Well, you’ve got dirt between those legs, but ya don’t hear me telling you to move out—ah, fuck!”

Tom stumbled backwards as his head was whipped to the side. You had smacked him right across the face, your chest heaving angrily as your tears flowed wildly. The room was silent for a moment as he shut his eyes painfully, his heart tightening at the realization. He was upset about you and Harrison, of course he was. His two best friends, fooling around behind his back, keeping secrets. He had a right to be upset, but the both of you knew that this was crossing a line.

You didn’t love Harrison. Not the way you loved him. But after today, you weren’t sure you would ever tell him the truth. Your stubbornness was a blessing and a curse.

“(y/n)—“

“Just get out. I-I….can’t even look at you right now.”

Picking up the pieces was easier than putting them back together. You could hold this kind of love, sure, but the growth and the progress and everything in between—that was where the struggle tugged and pulled and strained. Because in truth, you and Tom had always loved each other. If you hadn’t, you would’ve been long gone by now. But the games and the lying and the secrets—it was going to tear you apart.

You were met with a cloud of smoke. You stopped in your tracks when you smelled the foulness of it, scrunching your nose as you scurried towards the source. Before he could even react, you had pulled the cancer stick from between his lips and were stomping it out onto the ground. He cursed under his breath when he saw your lovely face illuminated by the moonlight, angry and frustrated as the toe of your boot crushed ashes.

“Thought I told you to stop it with that shit,” you scolded, looking up when you were satisfied with he flatness of the cigarette. Tom pulled his beanie down over his reddening ears, his hot breath making puffy clouds as he sighed in the winter weather. You crossed your arms over your chest, snapping your finger so he’d look at you. When he did, he offered you a childish glare, one that you simply scoffed at.

“You’re not my mum,” Tom snapped, pulling his hoodie up over his head as you buzzed yourself into the building. You held the door open for him, making sure it shut behind you. You rolled your eyes, hoisting your bag over your shoulder better.

“She’d tell you just the same.”

“Yeah, if she gave a shit about me.”

You pursed your lips as you followed him to the elevator. Parents were a topic of conversation that you and Tom kept quiet about. Not because it was hard, but because it irritated the both of you when you began to realize how distant the relationships had become. It was disheartening, disappointing, sad. We sit together in the darkness here, just for a moment.

Tom was stressed, about what, you weren’t sure. He smoked when he thought too much, a habit he had picked up around the gym. He tried to keep it away from you because you usually reacted dramatically, but he knew your intentions were well. The ride in the elevator was tense, silent, a little itchy at the mention of mum.

You kept glancing at him, trying to study his face under his hood. You and Tom had been trying, really trying, to fix what was broken. Even if he didn’t love you the way you loved him, he did love you in some way. The depth of that love, that was something you would have to figure out in other ways.

You could see how hard he stared at the floor. In thought, in frustration, looking for answers in the elevator doors like you looked for answers in walls. In this silence, you were the same. Pathetic, broken, lovesick people, looking for the solutions in places you couldn’t see past. We meet in dead ends, why can’t we find each other?

You let out a breath as you reached one hand over, intertwining your fingers with his. Any other night, Tom wasn’t sure if he would stay like this. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it was painful to hold you this way.

Tonight, he simply squeezed your palm. His head hung low, chin against his chest, and your warm hand in his was comforting. It was almost enough to calm the chaos in his throat. Almost, but then the elevator doors opened, and he almost jumped right out of his skin.

“Tommy boy! There’s my champion,” a gruff voice laughed, thick with an Irish accent. You peeked around Tom’s shoulder, raising a brow to see a short, middle-aged man standing in front of your apartment door. Tom visibly stiffened in front of you, and you noticed how his grip on your hand tightened a bit. When you both stepped out of the elevator, Tom moved in front of you. He never let you move around him. He maintained a visible barrier between you and the short, greasy man at the door, and suddenly you were very intrigued.

Tom was suddenly very aware of you, and very aware of the man at the door—it was his new manager, one that already gave him a bad taste in his mouth. A sour, itching taste.

“Uh, what are you doing here, Mr. Galloway?” Tom asked. “You realize this is where I live, right?”

“Aye, I see it,” the man chuckled. You stepped to the side a bit, meeting his eyes regrettably as he looked you up and down. “Hello there, lovey. Tom, you did not mention you resided with such a pretty lady, did ya? Is this the flatmate you were goin’ on about? Or another one of them gals?”

Of fucking course.

“What are you doing here?” Tom repeated, rougher this time. Galloway recognized the tension in the hallway, and he tried to laugh it off. You noticed the cheapness of his suit, how he tried to dress it up with glittering necklaces and enormous rings. His thinning, stringy hair was gelled back, and he crossed his arms in front of him in an attempt to hold in his protruding beer belly.

His gaze on you was lingering. You linked your arm with Tom’s own, holding him closer.

“Got some serious business to discuss with ya,” Galloway explained, his eyes flickering towards you. “Thought you mind find it in ya to...invite me in.”

What the fuck did this look like to him?

“Out here is just fine,” Tom said sternly. You squeezed his hand again, just to remind him you were there, and it took a few moments of Tom staring hard before he turned to look at you. When he did, he softened just a bit before nodding his head towards the door. “I’ll be inside in a minute, love.”

“Tom—“

“Just give me a few moments.”

Please, my love, just go inside.

You fumbled in your purse for your keys, turning the lock quickly. You moved to look back at them, where Tom was crossing his arms over his chest, his glare tightening his features all over. Galloway looked at you again, a smirk falling on his face as he winked at you. Tom slid in front of you, reaching behind him for the doorknob. You stepped back quickly as he slammed the door shut, your hands against your chest as you stared at the wood.

Tom was trying, he really was. But things are never simple, the graves dug only get deeper, and the money—oh, the money—it could only get better. But not without the risk, and Tom was beginning to realize the money was getting dirtier.

But it’s so good, isn’t it, baby?

After a few long moments, you managed to catch your breath. You dropped your keys into your purse, dropping it onto the kitchen counter. You pressed your ear against the door gently, breathing slow as you tried to listen to the conversation. Still in the dark, sweetheart, still in silence.

“You can’t show up at my flat, Galloway. This wasn’t apart of the deal, alright?”

“I own you, sonny,” came the reply, and you swallowed hard as you leaned into the door, “so I’ll go where I fuckin’ please.”

“Not here,” Tom growled, and you could feel his fists clenching and rolling in frustration even from this side of the door. “Anywhere but here.”

“I’m everywhere, Tommy boy. Better get used to it, aye? And bring that doll around more often. Bet the lads would love to meet’er.”

Ahh, fuck.

The door shut behind him, quietly. You rose from your spot on the couch, letting out a shaky breath when you noticed that Tom was visibly troubled. When he met your eyes, he was defeated, just a bit.

You weren’t his girl, but you were his girl. That man, he was talking about Tom’s girl like that, and it gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. This passion, this drive, this love for sport and for a precious woman, when did it become so tangled?

“Tom? What…W-What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

It doesn’t take a genius to know when your best friend is in over his fucking head.

“Go to bed, (y/n).”

“Tom, please—“

“I said go to bed. Just…go…go to bed.”

Please, baby, please go to bed.

You stood in a shadow, still, a shadow you realized was far more obscure than you anticipated. In fact, you were so far into its black center, you couldn’t see around the silhouette.

How far will you go for the people you love? How long will you fight even when you can’t see, even when you’re blind to what’s in front of you?

Tom was digging his own grave; at this rate, you were going to be buried with him.

chapter two

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