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khaoticdax · 8 months

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Thank You For Staying

Valeria Garza x OC

1.5k words

Angst. Read at your own risk.

Intel could always be trusted, couldn't it?

That's why someone paid good money for the best intel. So they could have the right information to make a perfect plan.

But what happens when you have the right information, but it still turns out wrong?

Dax checked his gear time and time again, it was almost ritualistic after how long he's been doing this. He quietly heard footsteps behind him, and they brought a small smile to his face.

"How many times will you check your gear, amor?" A female voice spoke and he knew exactly who it was. The infamous El Sin Nombre. The woman he had come to love after being hired by her cartel as a mercenary. Slowly, Dax turned to face her. She was leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, that signature smirk sprawled across her face.

"I'll keep checking it until we get back." He took a few steps towards her and rested his hands on her biceps. He could almost feel the sigh of relief that came from Valeria at the contact, yet she wouldn't show it in public. Dax gave a small kiss to her forehead before walking over to pick up his rifle. He could feel her eyes on him every step that he took - not that he was complaining in the slightest. When he turned around, she was already walking towards their transport. The two of them, along with a team of grunts, were headed off to a mission that seemed like it would go flawlessly. Everything was in place. A rival gang had started to encroach on El Sin Nombre's territory and that was something that needed to be taken care of personally.

Quickly, Dax caught up to Valeria to walk by her side. It was the smallest moments in public that the two shared that had any meaning. Both them and the grunts filed into two separate sedans and headed off towards the rival gangs compound. Dax kept fidgeting with his gear, no matter how many glances Valeria sent his way almost issuing him to stop. Something didn't feel right about this. Like it was almost too easy. Like all the pieces of the plan fit too perfectly into place. The ride was long and quiet, except for the local radio to fill the deafening silence. When they were about five minutes from the target, the energy in both sedans got tense. The nerves before the test of strength.

Once the cars reached their stopping point the grunts got out and checked their gear. Dax stayed seated by Valeria, waiting for her signal to begin the raid. By surprise, he felt her hand on top of his and he looked over. It appeared that she had the same gut feeling from the look on her face. Dax just smiled, nodded, and gave her hand a squeeze. They'd get through this, like they had all the ops before this.

The two of them got out and separated into the two different strike teams for the raid. Dax would lead a smaller group, while Valeria took the larger amount. The two leaders nodded, making eye contact for a final time before going their separate ways. Valeria's teams objective was to locate the rival gang leader and threaten them the good ole fashion way. Dax's teams objective was to make sure Valeria had a clear shot and round up any stranglers. Dax watched as Valeria took her team into position before he fired the first shot and began leading his team through the compound.

Clearing corners and rooms was what he was good at. It's where he felt like he was at the top of his game. The price to buy him out as a mercenary proved it as well. The grunts who were assigned to Dax's team were more there to make sure he didn't get shot in the back, more than anything else. Just like the grunts on Valeria's team were there to take a bullet for her in the off chance someone had the time to even fire off a shot.

Clearing the compound was painstaking work, but Dax's blood rushed to his head as he heard someone yell out "El Sin Nombre!.."

Why?...

Why would someone yell that?

The sounds of gunfire followed the yell and then nothing.

Silence.

The men who were following Dax froze, but he could feel his anger and anxiety rise tremendously. It was almost as if a darkness took over his brain. Dax abandoned clearing all the rooms, and cleared only the ones that lead towards the main room of the compound. Where Valeria was supposed to be meeting with the rival gangs leader. The grunts who were following barely stood a chance at keeping up.

As Dax stood outside the main room, he heard laughter. But it wasn't Valeria. Rage filled his body.

He had one final room to clear.

And clear he did. Not paying any attention to any of the bodies on the floor. All those opposing who were still standing got a bullet to the head.

The gang leader tried surrendering, but - blinded by rage - Dax pulled the trigger. Slowly coming out of it, he took a deep couple of breaths and turned around to survey the mess. And that's when he saw it.

When he saw why someone had yelled El Sin Nombre.

There she laid. Her eyes closed, one of her hands on her stomach, with blood pooling around her body.

A dry sob left Dax's mouth as he dropped his gun and ran to her side.

"No. No. No, no, no…!" He muttered as he slowly gathered her up in his arms, placing her close to his chest and rocking back and forth. Valeria barely stirred at the movement.

"You can't die.. No. You can't. I refuse to let you leave me here like this!" He yelled, almost screaming towards the heavens, cursing any god who would take her from him.

Quietly, Valeria groaned and opened her eyes to see the mess on Dax's face. It wasn't blood, but tears.

"Thank you…" Valeria whispered and Dax's head snapped down to look at her.

"See, you're fine!.. You aren't dying." His voice sounded broken, almost as broken as his heart felt.

"Thank you for being by my side despite no one else being here…" She finished and gave him a small smile. She was trying to take in his face as best she could. So she could remember it, if she ended up somewhere where she had memories.

The sob that left Dax's throat was loud and his whole body jerked, "No, no!.. Please… I'll always be here. Always, but you can't go!... I love you! Don't leave me here alone!!" He begged. He was pleading. Was he pleading to her? It wasn't like she shot herself in the stomach and decided to die. Was he pleading to some higher power? Some higher power that might save her, despite her face slowly losing color and the ground underneath him turning a beautiful shade of red.

He began grasping at her back, rocking back and forth - tears streaming down his face. "You can't leave me! You have my heart, please!... Don't you dare take her from me!" His voice was becoming hoarse from the sobs and screaming. He was becoming angry. Angry at the situation. At the rival gang leader.

At himself.

He should have been there. Why did she thank him when he wasn't even there when she got shot?

Dax heard another groan and he looked down, tears and snot running down his face. His eyes practically begging her not to take her final breath.

"I love you, mi Amor." She whispered, before she gave final sigh and stopped breathing.

All Dax could do was scream. Scream to the heavens. Scream to the hells. Screaming enough that it filled the whole entire compound. Eventually, the screams turned into sobs and Dax sat there on the bloody ground. Sat there with the love of his life in his arms, rocking back and forth. Hoping, wishing, praying that she could wake up. Hoping this was just a nightmare. Wishing he could go back and love her more. Praying that he would get to see her again.

It was all he could bring himself to do.

What else was there to do?

The grunts who had followed had stayed out of the way. They too were unsure as to what to do. They also assumed anyone who tried to touch Valeria would end up dead by Dax's hand.

Dax kept screaming until his voice gave out. He kept rocking until his body screamed at him to stop.

Once time froze and reality had sunk in, Dax picked up the limp body on his arms and began walking out of the compound. He left his rifle on the ground and didn't even bother to look at the grunts. All he could think about was Valeria and what would happen next.

#video games #valeria x oc #Valeria Garza #el sin nombre #Dax Wycliff #call of duty #cod oc #cod fanfic #Fanfic #Thank you for staying

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miracleweaponhunt · 1 month

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Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 39: The Tournament's Grand Prize

It was finally over. The thirty two most qualified contestants were chosen, and Roxanne was somehow amongst them. She fell to the floor as Siena's boosts wore off, and the fighting broke off amongst the hero groups. All of them began dusting themselves off, exchanging glances with each other as they went back to their separate groups.

"Well, that was an interesting event." The announcer shouted out. "Everyone thought to aim for a hero or two, but they'd all rather fight each other and take out anyone who tried to intervene! But Capri and the Kerobons were clearing out the competition, with Zee racking up twelve eliminations!"

Zee merely replied by pounding this chest and yelling incoherently into the sky, like he was challenging the gods themselves to trial by fire.

"When Willow arrives tomorrow, the first round matches will be announced! So be sure to check the brackets to keep up with who you're fighting!"

The crowds emptied as the losers shuffled out of sight, leaving only thirty one people left in the arena. Roxanne, Julian, and Cassandra all made it, as did Luca and Caoimhe. The Stones, Maximos, and Kerobons all qualified, and so did Ryland and Rodrick, and Arianna. The Gurut girl who was helping Luca made it, alongside some other miscellaneous fighters. Cutter clapped his massive veiny hands together as his voice started booming.

"Right, erryone get back to the hotel!"

Roxanne got another small snack and collapsed on her bed. She hadn't even done anything, and yet she felt exhausted already. Her phone buzzed, and on the other end was Willow.

'heyyyyy'

'how was the tourny? whos in?'

'broadcast didnt air yet and zach wont tell meeeee :('

'Well, I made it. And most of the heroes who showed up.' Roxanne replied. 'One of the Battlestorms didn't make it in, but it's otherwise a pretty stacked line up.'

'dam thats gon b hard to beat. dont disapoint me if we end up fightin, k?'

'I'll try my best.'

So now what? It was time to sleep, probably. Tournament was tomorrow, and she had to prepare. She stood up, checked her leg still worked. It seemed fine. Kicking with it was probably more effective than her other leg in terms of both damage and balance, which seemed good. And with her training for the day complete, she went to bed, hyping herself in her dreams for the big day.

Roxanne's eyes opened after a nice night of sleep, and another person's exhale was heard across from her. She took her phone to quickly call for danger. She looked at who was standing over her, and it was…Willow, sleeping on a chair in her corner of the room with the Vannana spear leaning by it. Roxanne crept out of bed and checked the door to her room. Locked. She looked towards the window, and sure enough, it was open. Did she forget to lock it? No, she never opened it in the first place. She opened the window, and sure enough, it was broken into.

"Hm, yeah, I'm up."

Willow shot awake, clutching her spear, looking up at Roxanne's confused face, and loosened her grip.

"Roxanne, what's up?" She said with a casual smile.

"Why are you in my room?" Roxanne asked, already exasperated.

"Well, the plan was to try sneak into the hotel and make my way to my room from the inside as a form of training. So I circle around the place for an entry point, and see your window looks slightly different, so I jumped up and sure enough, I could pry it open."

"This is the third floor."

"I've climbed the castle back home a bunch, it wasn't stressful or anything, don't worry. Anyway, I try to see if I could sneak past whoever was sleeping into my own room, but once I find it was your room, I just figured you'd be cool with me sleeping here."

A normal person would probably question if they were dreaming right now. But Roxanne didn't have normal dreams, so everything in front of her was real. She looked at Willow with several responses running through her head, but she decided that just getting breakfast was the best course of action.

In the hotel lobby, Samuel, Fiorella, and Rodrick were already there, looking at the board placed for their convenience.

In what could only be described as a strange choice for an opener, Roxanne was the first up. Against some girl named Louise Gordon.

"Hey, Samuel? Any idea who Louise Gordon is?"

"Nope." He replied quickly

"No clue." Adebayo added.

"It's a shame I don't know." Fiorella said with a flick of her wrist.

Willow was at the end of the bracket, up against some guy named Tre Waves. Nobody knew him either. In fact, most of the heroes were set up against random nobodies who made it through the chaos.

"I feel bad for the people going against us." Fiorella said. "I mean, it's pretty heavily rigged in our favour."

"Whoever did the seeding did a pretty bad job at it." Rodrick agreed. "Then again, I'd recommend staying on your toes. They know everything about us, and we know nothing about them."

Roxanne scanned the board to see who she'd be going up against in round two. Also two people nobody around her knew. Cassandra and Julian were going up against yet more randoms, as was basically every hero.

"So guys, what's up."

The Gurut girl who was with the Battlestorms pushed her way past Roxanne to see who she was up against. She looked towards Roxanne.

"Hey, you're Willow's friend, right?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Tell her I said good luck." She smiled.

She retreated without giving any more information. Rodrick was discreetly looking at her as she casually went to fix herself up some breakfast.

"Okay, I've had a theory about these Fightston games since I've gotten my invite, and I'd like to share it with everyone here. Just be sure to keep it within our circle." Rodrick whispered, closing in between Fiorella and Samuel

"Go on." Fiorella answered slowly.

"My guess as to why we're all fighting random people is to have an excuse to get rid of them. This time around, Zach is trying to flush out any possible legion members."

"Wait, you think the Legion have shown up here?" Samuel asked, pointing at him while squinting his eyes.

"Think about it." Rodrick answered. "There wasn't any screening process for people coming in. On top of that, I was pretty easily able to sneak around the hotel and find documents for what the grand prize of this whole thing was."

"And what would that be?" Adebayo asked.

"A loan of the Fightston gauntlet."

Samuel stepped back when he heard that information. Fiorella tried her best not to let shock show on her face, but she was doing a bad job at it.

"The door also looked broken into. So there are definitely Legion people around. So be on the lookout."

A couple people started walking into the room. The other heroes and players.

"Slowly disperse." Rodrick said calmly. "Don't draw attention to yourself. Report all Legion activity to me."

Fiorella left first. Samuel counted seven seconds and left next. Roxanne stepped away from Rodrick afterwards.

The thirty-two main contestants were in the building. Zach entered the building, holding a box in his hands. Upbeat rock music was blaring from his jeans pockets as he sauntered in wearing a casual blue shirt and his best sunglasses.

"How's it going, everyone!" He bellowed, setting his box on the table. "I hope everyone's at their best for the Fightston Games!

A few miscellaneous hollers were made throughout the room. Zach stared ahead at everyone in front of him.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to the first round, so I'd like to congratulate you on making it this far now. And discuss how everything is gonna work going forward. First off, we're getting rules out the way. For this tournament, anything except killing or dismembering your opponent is legal. And poor sportsmanship such as toying with someone who can no longer fight back will get you penalized. Next up, prizes. The semi-finalists will get two hundred thousand Luxa. Second place gets five hundred thousand. And for the winner…"

Zach opened the box. Within it was the Fightston gauntlet. It looked more plain compared to the ornate designs of the other weapons. A simple metal glove which was silver all around, with the palm area being bronze. Zach put it on his left hand, and almost instantly, a perfect replica appeared on his right. He took the real one off, and the other turned to smoke and faded in the atmosphere.

"Now, we rulers can't be everywhere at once, and the Legion is only gonna get more intense. And seeing as the best defence has been Cassandra with the thunder axe, we'd be more than happy to lend the gauntlet to the most worthy person here. And with that, it's time to begin the tournament! There's gonna be a room at the stadium for everyone, so make haste!"

#my writing #writeblr #writing #creative writing #fantasy #webnovel #writers on tumblr #spilled ink

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wakeup-awg · 2 months

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Reunited | Mid March

[Sophie | Alex]

It had been a month since they had married and now they were going to be reunited since she had stayed behind in Paris for Paris fashion week with Delphine and Alex had gone on with the boys to do some shows with Willa and Noah. It had been hard, being apart the first few weeks of their marriage if she was being honest but they made it work with lots of facetime calls and things of that nature. Finally though, they were headed back to Baltimore on a flight from Paris, Delphine incredibly tired and curled up on her mother’s lap. Once they landed in Baltimore a cab drove them to the farm and she wasn’t sure if Alex was already home as she got there and carried the sleeping child in her arms and yawned herself. “Babe?” she called out seeing, if anyone was home.

After a couple days in post-married bliss, it was a rough cut being off on tour without Sophie and Noah and Willa tagging along with him and the boys. Alex longed for any day off, just to get in some nap time while the little ones napped so he was awake and energized enough to do the shows. He loved being on tour and doing the shows, but this time he was really happy at the prospect of getting home and being reunited with the rest of the family. He'd gotten back to their Baltimore home a few hours prior, had taken Noah and Willa to check on the animals before they had dinner and he put them to bed early. Thankfully, they were really sleepy. He was just relaxing on the couch with a random movie on when he heard the door and moments later Sophie was greeted by their dogs. He got up and moved through the living room, towards the hall where Sophie still was. "Hi, baby," he greeted her, a bright smile on his lips. He caught Delphine sleeping in her arms and held his hands out. "I can take her, so you can take shoes and coat off," he offered.

When the dogs greeted her, she pet them as best as she could without waking up Delphine who was exhausted from traveling. Plus, she knew she had been missing her siblings and her father tons since they had been doing separate things. Then Alex came around the corner and she smiled seeing her husband in person, she had missed him far more than she wanted to admit out loud, but she was sure he knew that without her even saying it. “Hi babe.” she said softly, not wanting to wake the almost two-year-old in her arms. When he offered to take her, she shifted the sleeping girl into his arms. “She’s exhausted fell asleep towards the end of the flight and woke up when we landed and fell back to sleep so I think if she wakes again she’ll be incredibly cranky.” Which she knew would be the case in a lot of ways as she started shrugging off her coat and shoes. “I’m so tired too if I’m honest. These last few weeks,” she sighed out. “Good time but.. I missed just us all being together.”

Sophie looked tired and Alex was just happy to have her home. They'd get some time for just them as a family now and it was a really nice change from being on tour and, well, separated. He carefully took their youngest into his arms and for a moment she looked like she was gonna stir and wake up, but then she settled into his embrace and dozed back off. Alex smiled at her, he had missed her terribly, only having two of their kids was the most logical thing but it also always felt like something (or someone) was missing. He leaned in to peck Sophie's lips with a grin on his own before pulling back and nodding towards the stairs. "I'll put her down in her room, I'll be right back." It really didn't take long to put the little girl down and as he emerged from the room, he almost expected Sophie to have made her way to their bed to get comfortable.

She was exhausted if she was honest, traveling with kids, even just one being the youngest was tiring, even if Alex had both of their oldest kids who could be a handful. Easily their youngest settled into Alex’s arms and he pecked her lips and smiled at him that he was so helpful with getting their daughter to bed. As she got comfy, she pet the dogs again wanting to give them some attention before she started up the stairs and meeting him as he was coming out of Delphine’s room. “I was just heading up to our room.” she said softly. “Did you want to join me or were you going to go back downstairs and I can meet you downstairs?” she asked figuring whatever would be best but she wanted to spend some time with him after weeks apart.

"Hi," Alex chuckled softly when they met just outside of Delphi's room in the hallway. "Depends, you look tired, so do you want to just lay down in bed and rest some?" he questioned. "I have to turn the tv off, grab some water but then we can meet up her." They could also watch what he had been watching downstairs, but Sophie looked so tired, he figured their bed would be the better option.

“Hi baby.” She smiled. “I am tired.” Admitting before glancing at him. “But I honestly wanted to spend time with my husband after not seeing you for weeks.” She said. “Being apart sucks.” She admitted out loud because it did, so much. “So if you want to grab two waters I’ll get the bed set up and we can hang out in bed and be comfy.” Given how big and spacious their bed was.

A soft chuckle left Alex's lips. "I wasn't gonna go back downstairs if you weren't gonna come join me," he told her. She was right, being apart sucked but he was gonna focus on the weeks of being together they had in front of them. "I'll be back in a minute," Alex hummed and once again leaning in with the intention to peck her lips but he got a little bit distracted when he realized how much he'd missed her lips on his, so he let the kiss linger a little longer.

She was looking forward to being back together for the next few weeks as a family, wanting that time together. “Okay.” she said as he leaned in and the kiss turned a little longer than she was expecting and giggled into the kiss after a few seconds and finally broke away. “I’ll see you in a few minutes I’m not going anywhere.” she said as she headed into their bedroom. She changed into comfortable pajamas and pulled back the blankets before grabbing the remote and hopping into bed and getting herself comfortable and leaning into the thick row of pillows waiting for Alex.

He smiled when the kiss eventually broke again. "You better not," he murmured with a chuckle before heading downstairs. He turned off the tv first, made sure the lights were off before heading into the kitchen. Penny and Percy were following him and he raised his brows as he grabbed two bottles of water and found the dogs sitting in front of him looking expectingly. "You want some treats? It's not time for your dinner yet," he told them before finding the dog treats to give them, and the rest of the pack some of them until he eventually headed back upstairs where he found Sophie getting comfortable in their bed. "The dogs thought me coming in the kitchen meant it's time for their dinner," Alex chuckled as he put one of the bottles beside Sophie and then moved around to slip into bed with her.

“What am I going to do sneak out a window?” she teased with a laugh shaking her head. Once she was comfortable in bed she was just waiting for Alex as she flipped through the different streaming channels they had looking for something to watch. When he finally got upstairs she laughed, “The dogs always think it’s time to eat, they’re dogs they’re hungry even when they just ate.” she pointed out. “Thank you.” she said about her bottle of water and he slipped into bed. “Did you eat?” she asked now that he mentioned food even if it was for the dogs eating.

"I don't know, just saying I'm glad you're here now I don't want you to go again," he said before heading off downstairs. The dogs followed when he returned to the bedroom. "I mean, I can't blame them for always being hungry," Alex chuckled as he crawled into bed. "I had a little bit when Willa and Noah had dinner. They were very determined on me having dinner with them. How about you, have you eaten?"

She laughed, “If I didn’t want to be here, I would have stayed you realize and that’s crazy given we just got married and I want to be here with my /husband/.” she pointed out. “No, I didn’t eat, I was more worried about flying with Delphine by myself and anyone seeing us and taking photos and my anxiety and making sure if she got hungry.” she admitted so she hadn’t really worried about food or anything other than the soda she had gotten on the plane. “Oh, and the snack pack they passed out on the plane but not like dinner.”

Once he was in bed, Alex shifted to lay on his side close to Sophie and he raised his eyebrows a little. "You're gonna need dinner," he told her. "Should've said that before I got into bed." A chuckle left his lips as he reached over to drape his arm over her and bring his hand up to her cheek. "You made it alright, yes? I knew you'd get here safe and sound."

“I know I’ll get something once I unwind a bit.” she said because she knew she wouldn’t pass up something to eat and that they would have something in the fridge. “I know but you know how I am always anxious when traveling with the kids, it was easier with just one by myself I’ll admit but I’m always worried if someone gets too close or in our faces with a camera. Delphine was a sweetie so calm.” she pointed out because she had been amazing and made it a lot easier. “Slept so much of it think the time change and getting her up extra early wiped her out.”

"I can cook you something," he offered. But he was very happy to just lay with her for a little bit. "Well then she was much better than our other two," Alex chuckled. "Noah was waving at everyone and saying hi and I think Willa was trying to tell everyone about our trip on the boat. She wouldn't stop talking." Which was adorable, but also kind of exhausting, and Alex wasn't sure how much he wanted her to share about their whole time off. "Thankfully she ended up talking to Jack the whole flight."

“If you want but if not I can get myself something in a little bit.” She said because she didn’t mind honestly she didn’t want him to feel like he had to. A laugh left her lips. “Noah is just a confident little king that wants to be friends with everyone which maybe we should teach him safety things.” She admitted. “Oh I’m sure jack loved that when I know he loves to sleep a ton he didn’t end up telling her to just shut up because like that wouldn’t surprise me if I’m honest.” She admitted though she knew he also wouldn’t want to piss Alex off either.

"You know I don't mind cooking for you," Alex offered. He shifted to settled down more comfortably and lean against a propped-up pillow. "He was trying to be very polite. And Jack did look at me like he wanted me to safe him, which I didn't," he told her with a grin. "But he didn't tell her to shut up either. I did hear him tell her he was there though," he laughed and shook his head. "So how was fashion week?"

“I know but I don’t want you to think you /have/ to you had a long day too.” she pointed out. “Glad that he was being polite but was in distress from having Willa talking to him the whole flight.” she laughed. “Kids don’t care if you were there they want you to know how they thought of it.” she laughed softly shaking her head. “I can imagine if he told her to shut up you would have punched him.” she said. “Fashion week was amazing, so so amazing.” she admitted.

A grin spread on Alex's lips and he tried to stay serious as he shook his head. "I wouldn't have punched him. He was doing better to let her tell him all about it though." He liked to deny it, but Willa was so much like him in a lot of ways and he didn't exactly like telling a story and realizing the other person isn't interested in hearing it, either. "Yeah? So you had a good time? I did see a few pictures. You looked stunning."

“You’re telling me if he turned around and told Willa to shut up and she got all pucker lipped and cried you wouldn’t punch him?” she raised a brow at him? Not that she thought Jack could actually be that cruel to their kids because he was a big kid himself, he might if he got drunk to an older person who pissed him off or something but not their kids. “I had so much fun, sat near Anna Wintour which was both amazing and scary as fuck.” she admitted, “She’s so intimidating… but I felt so hot in that outfit but powerful. I actually asked Louis Vuitton to keep it because I loved that outfit.” she said. “No clue when I could wear it again but I don’t care.”

"I mean I'd be tempted to, but..." he trailed off and chuckled at the thought, because of course he'd end up punching him if he had so deliberately upset his daughter. He arched a brow when she said she asked to keep the outfit and for a moment he bit his lower lip before shrugging his shoulders and offering, "next time we go on a date night you could wear it." If she did, he'd be like putty in her hands probably, but he'd take that to see her face to face in it.

#{pgraphs}#para;xsophieturns #{reunited}

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crimsonxe · 7 months

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@transbeffica

If wanting to know why I'm doing a separate post, look at Sir Adamus's reblog. This is my attempt to not fill their notes after they've said they don't want that.

Actually no, the show actually only says that EXTREMISM is wrong; while ones like Sienna in the violent wing while not given a free pass are given a more sympathetic lean as are the faunus equality activists overall. Its specifically Adam aka the TERRORIST vein that are given the rightful negative treatment. Also as a center-left, um no extremism is absolutely an issue on both sides for different reasons. Leftists shoot their own causes in the foot via their extreme views and unwillingness to bend to reality, demanding impossibilities and slamming their own for not drinking the koolaid cause they'd rather have a brain. For example: we aren't getting universal healthcare at the drop of a dime, but what can be done is voting blue whenever possible to put in place down the line the votes to lead to it being on the table. Instead far leftists will bitch and whine that no movement is being done and throw away votes or just not even do it in the first place, because the left "isn't doing anything". Ignoring that there is nothing they can do if the votes aren't there to do it. And that's just one example, there's also ones for various forms of bigotry too. Instead of trying to pull over ignorants via reaching out to shift them to be better, you'd rather yell in their faces in bringing up x,y, and z shit they said in the past or jump on the slip-ups they may have; which pushes them towards becoming hardline bigots. Cause its far easier to just dive into the muck that doesn't do that, than be attacked and hounded over everything as you try to change your ways.

And there is absolutely no damn ground at all when it comes to violence against innocent people. That is straight up terrorism and I don't give a single shit what supposed cause you stand for, it goes out the damn window. I will at that point root for your ass to be thrown in a cell alongside Mr. White Supremacist who planted a bomb in a building of innocent people for their cause.

Left extremism is infuriating; Right extremism is vile and disgusting; but all extremism is bad.

Actually Blake only goes against EXTREMIST violence as symbolized by Adam. Her issue always goes back to that. Not violent protest itself, which as a thing shouldn't even be seen a praiseworthy in the first place. It should be seen as a thing resorted to that one doesn't enjoy or see as good. v5 speech = about ADAM's EXTREMISM and those being swayed into it. It has nothing to do with humans, because they aren't the ones that are pushing Adam into being a terrorist; he was already that. Blake has also had multiple scenes including the v5 one where she states how the subject isn't an easy one and she doesn't have the answers; which is absolutely fucking valid. Even irl these issues have no solid damn answers or easy solutions and if your ass thinks different you're naive af.

You mean where Yang knocks the dude around the room and out the damn building as a result of it? That's badass and wish fulfillment territory for women irl put in that sort of situation that would love to do exactly that to ones like that. I don't have a clue what your ass would expect to be done different in that situation.

Port wasn't exactly treated as good in that case, instead having Yang shown being grossed out by it. He's also a very exaggerated arrogant type of character, so if anything its to do with his bloated ego.

There actually isn't any implications of that sort at all and you're trying to inject that into it where it isn't. You're wanting the show to do exactly what right-wing chuds/neckbeards accuse left-leaned media of doing in pushing an agenda into it that stands out like a sore thumb. Raven, Summer, Winter, Maria, the happy huntresses, Coco, Velvet, etc = no signs of misogyny aimed at them.

Um no its an accurate take, as everything to do with the WF can be put into the framing of "extremism is bad" which is a damn good message especially in the current time. Where there's currently a certain conflict where extremes go after anyone with a nuanced opinion that doesn't support one side or another.

"changing the system is also bad" in what goddamn way is this ever fucking shown at all? Oh right it ISN'T. What is shown is that EXTREMIST TERRORISM IS NOT THE SOLUTION. Faunus are repeatedly shown sympathetically, including the equality struggle side of things; the only times it isn't that way is specific to the EXTREMIST side that are putting bombs on fucking trains with innocent people onboard. Or trying to flood a city full of innocents with grimm in v2.

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joaquinwhorres · 2 years

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Imma need a lil smutty sth for Mattie and George 😏

not going to say these two are my favorite rn, but am going to say that I already had an idea for a spite drabble for them. 18+ below

"Happy birthday," George breathed, his eyes leaving Matties to flick down to her mouth.

"Thanks." The word fell from her lips as if an afterthought, her voice dazed and distracted by the intensity of his stare that had once more returned to her eyes. She could feel that familiar charge in the air between them--as if they were magnets being drawn together. It felt the way it had back in August: entirely inevitable but still electric and exciting.

So, while she moved slowly at first, edging closer to him on the couch, first by angling her body, then shifting closer, and finally leaning in until their heads were bent together, once she decided that she was, in fact, going to kiss George Weasley, she was not soft or tender at all. Instead, she surged forward, pulling his head towards hers to catch him in a searing kiss that made a jolt of desire race down her spine.

His fingers slid up under her shirt, grasping at her waist and roughly pulling her closer against him. Her breath hitched, and she scrambled to settle herself into his lap with maybe a bit more eagerness than he was prepared for as he broke the kiss to let out a small oof.

"Sorry," Mattie whispered, pushing her hair out of her face, and George raised a hand to help her collect stray curls.

"Don't be."

There seemed to be a weight to his words that she neither had the desire nor capacity to investigate, and so instead, she captured his lips once more with her own. But before they could fully return to where they had left off, George separated himself from her again.

"Mattie," his voice was low and rough already, and it made her fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed at this, and a few breaths passed before he opened them again. "We can't do this here."

Oh, Merlin.

She released him, moving backwards in his lap. Before she could stand up and put more distance between them though, George's grip tightened on her waist keeping her in place. "Come upstairs with me." His voice was tentative and careful, and it really shouldn't even have been a question.

Her hand was in his as she let him pull her up the stairs quickly, leading her through the boy's dormitory as if she needed help finding the room she'd been in hundreds of times over the years.

It was quiet and dark when they entered, and they stole in with the slow, practiced precision of thieves. Her shoes were placed under his bed, the bed hangings closed, and spells mumbled under shaking breaths.

And then they were kissing again, clothes coming off with impatient tugging and soft laughs when the garments refused to be shed. George reached to free Mattie's head from her shirt that needed one more button released, and she helped him extricate his foot from his pants' leg, and soon both were naked under the covers.

"Any birthday wishes?" George asked from where he hovered over Mattie, cocking an eyebrow.

The question, while a break in the momentum they'd built up again, made Mattie's stomach constrict with both excitement and something else. Cormac didn't ask questions in bed. He came in with a plan, and she was a willing participant, but she had almost forgotten what it was like to have George there as her partner. Maybe because it was easier that way.

Concern creased his brow as George watched her face. "What's--"

"I want you between my legs," Mattie interrupted, sharing the first thing that came to mind.

George easily switched gears, a smirk playing at his lips. "Any specific part of me?"

"Your mouth."

He said nothing more, instead giving a mock salute and withdrawing down under the sheets to where she wanted him, his head buried between her thighs and tongue licking at her folds. The sensation was jarring--from nothing to having him dive into her--but soon, George found a pattern, relearning the exact way to move his tongue and the right amount of pressure to add to her clit. Mattie guided him as much as she could between her harsh breaths and clouded thoughts. It took more time than it would have with his fingers, and more than it would have if he had just been inside of her already, but that itself was the gift more than the orgasm that followed with her hands fisted in the sheets and her lip between her teeth.

George propped his chin up on her stomach, looking up at her with bright eyes and a mouth glistening with his success. "I think I got it now," he winked before returning back between her legs.

#oc: mattie crenshaw #ship: matigeorge #series: crooked wood #smut #minors dni #george weasley smut #weasley twin smut #yeah this was kinda all over the place #but i just wanted to get it out more than make it pretty and perfect #sorry-ish

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

Text

New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing.

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh.

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

Series taglist: @njrronaldo7 @fanfic-love-show @gabycamargo22 @fckdeusername

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Aliens made them do it - read on ao3

Second card is officially done!! I'll be posting the masterlist tomorrow and will start posting the third bingo card in August!

*-*

Peter doesn't cry. He doesn't. Not when he's separated from Tony and the others, and not when Ronan presses the barrel of an alien blaster to his head.

He didnt cry, because he knew this was a possible outcome to staying on the ship. He knew that there was a possibility that this would happen.

He told Tony he thought this through, and he had.

But damn was he terrified. He shook with fear and cold, on his knees. They'd stripped him of his suit, leaving him in his boxers. He knew space was cold, but he never expected it to be like this.

"They're recruiting young, I see," Ronan hummed, walking around Peter's hunched and trembling form. "They must be desperate."

"I'm stronger than I look," Peter said, putting on a brave face. He was going to die anyway. He wanted to die like Spiderman, not like Peter Parker.

"I'm sure," Ronan hummed. He finishes his lap around Peter before standing in front of him. "Has anyone told you what exactly you were up against before throwing you to the lions?"

The barrel of the gun presses under Peter's chin, forcing him to crane his neck. He swallows thickly, blinking rapidly against frightened tears.

"Something as tiny and fragile as you must know you stand no chance against the almighty Thanos," Ronan continued, not giving Peter a chance to answer -not that he would.

"Its a suicide mission," the blue alien continued. "One that landed you in my grasp, and no closer to Thanos.

"And what to do with you," Ronan hummed, looking deep in thought for a moment. Peter felt his mouth grow dry.

Aunt May would never know what happened to him. He'd leave her all alone. And what happened if none of the other Avengers could stop him?

Would she be one of the ones killed by Thanos? Or would she be left behind. Left wondering if Peter was alive somewhere or gone like the rest of half the population. Peter didn't know which was worse.

"Killing you would be a waste," Ronan continued, oblivious to Peter's inner turmoil. "I'm sure we could find some way to entertain ourselves, hmm?"

Peter's first thought was torture, and he felt his breath hitching. It made Ronan grin, dark teeth juxtaposing against his blue skin.

"Oh, yes, I have the perfect thing for you and your little friends."

Peter tried not to shout when Ronan grabbed him by the hair, but he tugged Peter from his knees, and he couldn't help it.

Peter gripped Ronan's wrist, wincing and whimpering as he was half dragged across the floor.

"I've always wondered how humans worked," Ronan mused. "And now I've got four of them."

"Please-" Peter gasped wetly, tears burning his eyes. Ronan takes him into a dark room and yanks him forward before dropping him.

Peter falls onto his chest, not having enough to catch himself. He coughs as he gets his hands under him, pushing himself off the ground.

A heavy boot lands on his back and shoves him back down, and Peter grunts, scrambling to get up off the floor.

"Now now, no need to make a fuss," Ronan murmured, voice deep. "Bring in the sarcastic one. Take the other two humans and have fun."

"No!" Peter shouted. "Le-leave them alone-"

He's cut off when the boot grinds down on his shoulder blade. He winces, chest heaving as two other blue aliens leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Its best you behave, human," Ronan presses, leaning over Peter, putting more weight on Peter's back. "Your behavior from here on out determines how fast you and your friends die at my hand."

Peter chokes on a sharp exhale, tears spilling over his eyelashes.

It doesn't take long for the doors to open again, and Peter can hear Tony, grumbling and digging himself into a hole, like always.

"Ah, just who we were waiting for," Ronan said cheerfully. "Come join us."

Peter lays on the floor under Ronan's boot, knowing he wasn't strong enough to buck him off.

Tony comes into his line of sight, and he looks pissed. Thdyd taken his suit too, though he had a track suit on underneath.

Peter stupidly wondered if Tony would make his suit able to hide clothes as well -so he didnt have to go around in his boxers- before remembering there wouldn't be a chance to.

"You okay, kid?" Tony asked, eyeing Peter. Peter could only nod.

Ronan removed his boot before bending down and grabbing Peter by the hair.

Peter yelped and scrambled to his feet, and Tony took a step forward, face contortions in rage before two other Kree grabbed him by the arms.

"Humans are so strange," Ronan hummed, pulling Peter in close by his hair. Peter held onto his wrist, wincing and stumbling as he was guided around. "Your customs and traditions have always been odd, though I've never seen them practiced."

Peter whimpers as Ronan draws his head back, exposing his neck. He looks down at Peter just as Peter feels cold metal press into his throat.

"Leave him alone," Tony demands. Peter can't see him, but he knows from the scuffle that he'd tried to charge at them again but was held back. "I swear to God, you kill him and I'll blow this ship to pieces."

Ronan chuckled, eyes alit with amusement. "I'm not going to hurt him yet," Ronan promised.

"Not until I see you fuck him."

Peter's eyes widen at that.

"Fuck you," Tony snapped. Ronan laughed. "No fucking way am I going to do-"

"Either you fuck him, or I kill you where you stand," Ronan growled, aiming the alien tech towards Tony.

"Do it," Tony growled back. "I'm not scared of you."

"No?" Ronan asked. Peter lets out a desperate sob, trembling against the alien. "He seems pretty scared of me."

Peter can't help flinching when the alien blaster is pressed back into his throat.

Ronan then leans down, dark purple tongue poking out between darker teeth. Peter cries out, struggling against his hold as the alien licks a strip up Peter's cheek, from jaw up to his eyebrow.

"Fuckin- leave him alone!" Tony nearly screams. Peter manages to turn his head, but it tightens the hold Ronan has on his hair.

"Fuck him, or I will," Ronan demanded. "And I wont be nice about it."

Peter doesn't think his knees will hold him much longer. He openly cries, breath heaving in his chest.

"You can't-" Peter gasped out.

"Oh, but I can," Ronan said. "Do you think your fragile human body can handle me, little one?"

Peter chokes on a sob, struggling in his hold a little more as Ronan licks at his jaw again.

"I've heard humans tear so easily," Ronan continues, loud enough for Tony to hear over Peter's crying. "Poor thing might die before I even get a chance to fuck him properly."

"Fine!" Tony shouted. "Fine, alright, I'll do it- just- just let him go."

Ronan smiles against Peter's skin, and he's suddenly released. Peter almost drops to the floor, but he catches himself and rushes from the alien, into Tony's chest.

The older man is quick to hold him tight, hashing Peter and holding him tight.

"I'm waiting," Ronan called. "Entertain me."

Peter buries his face deeper into Tony's chest, arms wrapped around his torso.

"Pete," Tony winces, lowering his head. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Peter shakes his head, sobbing breathlessly. He doesn't fight him when Tony pulls him to the floor, the whole time apologizing over and over.

"Just- just lay down, Peter," Tony murmurs, his own hands shaking. "Close your eyes."

Peter sobs as he lays on the cold ground, body stiff and vision blurry.

He can see Ronan and the two other Kree watching them, sitting and smirking together. Peter tries so hard to calm his crying, but it seems to make it worse.

Tony takes Peter's boxers off, kneeling between his legs.

Peter covers himself with his hands, trembling.

"I'm so sorry," Tony murmured, leaning over him. Peter can't look as Tony takes himself out of his pants.

He's never prayed for death before now. He sobs and begs for this not to happen, for Ronan to just kill them and get this over with.

"I'm sorry."

Its the last thing Tony says before pressing into him. Peter arches, a strangled cry forced past his lips.

He can hear the Kree laughing, egging Tony on. Peter sobs as Tony presses all the way in, lowering himself.

Peter realizes he's hiding Peter as best he can, resting on his elbows. Peter wraps his arms around Tony's neck, burying his nose into his shoulder as Tony thrusts into him.

It lasts forever. He knows neither of them are enjoying it. But Peter knows why Tony's doing this. Knows why he chose to do it instead of letting Ronan.

And Peter can't help but love him for it. But he hates him too. Hates that the two of them are in this position.

Mostly he hates himself. He should've listened when Tony told him to go home. If he had just stayed on the bus, Tony and Dr. Strange might've gotten away.

"I'm so so sorry, Peter," Tony whispered against Peter's ear. He sounded wrecked, broken and disgusted with himself.

Peter whimpers against his shoulder as he's fucked into the cold floor.

"Its okay," he manages through his crying. "Its okay, its okay."

Tony just shakes his head, exhaling wetly against him.

Peter feels his balls tighten up, and he hates himself. He sobs and closes his eyes, hiding his face against Tony seconds before he cums.

"Shh, shh," Tony hushes, holding Peter tight. "I've got you."

But Peter knows he doesn't. Not really. He's just as defenseless as Peter is. They're trapped in space with aliens just slightly less villainous than Thanos himself.

He has to bite back a mewling sob as Tony cums moments later, painting Peter's inner walls in warm semen.

He doesn't stay attached to Peter for longer than needed. Peter's boxers are pulled back on and then Tony is pulling Peter into a seated position.

"There, you happy?" Tony snapped, hugging Peter to his chest. Peter trembles against him, burying his face in Tony's track suit.

"Very," Ronan hums. "Take them back to their cages. I might want to play with them a little later."

Peter can't stop crying when they're locked in their small four by four cage. Hes leaning against the bars, knees drawn up and arms holding his legs tightly.

Tony's on the other side, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Stephen and Quill's cage is still empty to the left of them, but to the right, Drax and Mantis sit. Peter can't even look at them.

Can't look at Tony.

He tucks his face into his knees and lets the sobs wrack his body, shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #starker #ironman #spiderman #my writing #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21 #nff

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Better Love - cth

part three: the longing

summary: Calum and Maeve get to know one another, in more ways than one.

author’s notes: I’m nervous about this one. Enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, oh and smut.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one || part two

I confessed the longing I was dreaming of Some better love, but there's no better love Beckons above me and there's no better love That ever has loved me, there's no better love

In her dreams, Maeve always saw a future that made her warm. She saw hills of green and trees that swayed with the wind. She'd always go there, sometimes it'd be a few weeks before she'd show back up in her dreamland, but it was always the same place, a house surrounded in green and blue. She'd felt someone's presence, never enough to see them or recognize who they were, but she knew she wasn't alone in her dreams. She felt safe there with the strange presence, felt the warmth of them and the love they had for her. When she was young, she had thought it was her parents, but as time went on and Maeve's dreams stayed the same, she knew it was someone she was yet to meet.

Even now, as she slept, she felt that same warmth enveloping her.

Maeve’s eyes snapped open as she heard a snore behind her. The light from outside had blinded her for a second and she’d let out a groan. Usually, in her dreams, the warmth would leave her as her brain woke her up and her eyes slowly opened. This time, however, the warmth was still there. She felt it in her stomach and all down her spine, the familiar presence of it making her think for a second she was still in her dreams and that she’d wake up any minute to feel it leave her. As the bedroom came into focus, the large window next to her letting in soft daylight, that warmth remained and it wasn’t until she felt an arm around her pulling her closer that she remembered the events of the night her trip changed forever.

“The bridge collapsed?” Calum asked confused and walked over to stand next to her, his bra ahh hitching as he looked out at the stone bridge, “Holy shit.”

“What’re we going to do?” Maeve asked shakily, her eyes staring out in awe, “That’s the only way back. W-we’re stranded here with no power and no way to contact anyone about what’s happened!”

“Maeve, deep breathes,” Calum said as he reached out and slowly placed his hands on the sides of her arms, “Hey, look at me, I promise, it’ll be okay.”

With a deep breath, Maeve relished in the warms of Calum’s touch, leaning into it as she tried to calm her racing mind. He was right, it would be okay, the power would eventually come on once the storm passed, and then they would be able to call someone for help. All they had to do was wait for the storm to pass and then they’d get help.

All Maeve had to do was survive a night with an incredibly handsome art history professor, a looming interview that could change her life, and a storm that seemed to have destruction on its mind. Calum's hands were still on her arms, squeezing them gently as he tried to ground her back into the moment at hand. If it had been any other situation, one in which Calum was more than a stranger and Maeve wasn't stuck in a cabin with him, she would have been flustered. But the view of the bridge outside of the window, looming in the distance as if mocking how her brain felt, kept her unannounced attraction towards the stranger attempting to calm her at bay.

“Okay, I…it’s going to be okay,” she breathed out after taking a couple more deep breathes, “I guess we just unofficially became roommates.”

The next two days had been spent in one another's company. Once the storm had settled and the drizzle had lulled the forest into a peaceful sleep, Calum and Maeve had spent most of the night huddled up in the living room, finding out more and more about one another. They talked about a lot that first night, both of them wanting to be absolutely positive that the other was not a serial killer with extreme patience. But there seemed to be something they were both hiding, a small snippet of the truth that both were too scared to share. It wasn't until the inevitable concept of having to sleep crept closer and closer that they both glanced back at the only bed around for miles.

"I'll take the couch," Calum nodded, "You were here first so it's only fair."

"But you'll be cold," Maeve mumbled, "The fireplace will only give you so much heat before it dies out in the middle of the night and you wake up frozen."

"Another good reason why you should take the bedroom then," Calum chuckled and shook his head, "I don't mind, really."

"We could just share." Maeve said, surprising herself with the forwardness of her voice, "Body heat and all, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Calum asked, his eyebrow raising as he watched the flush on Maeve's cheeks grow.

"Positive, now come on, I'm exhausted."

They'd each picked their side of the bed, opting to stay as far away from the middle of the mattress as they both could. The sound of a drizzle hitting the roof and windows around them made the quietness of the bedroom a little calmer, both of them too aware of the other in bed to really drift off. But eventually, the drizzle lulled them both, into a warm and quiet sleep. A sleep where Maeve felt the warmth from her dreams and Calum felt the ache of his hike.

The following morning, when both of them woke up in each other’s arms was…awkward to say the least. Calum had woken up first, his arm numb and his brain having trouble catching up to where he was and why he had another body on top of him. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the large window next to the bed, shining a soft light over the entire room. The morning air was still chilly, leaving an ache in Calum’s joints and instinctively making him pull Maeve closer to him. It wasn’t until he heard Maeve stir that he realized exactly what they’d done. As the storm passed, the rain leaving the ground soft and muddy, Maeve and Calum and drifted closer and closer. Acting as the full moon and ocean tide, they ended up in one another’s warmth, starring far apart and gravitating towards each other.

That morning, they’d both spent time apart, walking around the small property where the bridge had left them isolated from everyone else. Calum had spent most of that day outside, his journal tucked safely in the pocket of his rain jacket, walking through the woods and hoping that the next couple of days before their host, whatever her name was, could find a way for them to get back. The first few days were spent like that, both of them stealing glances at the other while trying to distract themselves from the view of the broken bridge, the view of their separation, and the fact that they were both stuck with one another. Mornings were usually spent in silence, both too afraid to move from one another’s arms, trying not to wake the other up. They were spent looking out the window, watching the trees sway and the colored leaves flicker off the branches and onto the river below. Maeve, who had become used to the warmth of Calum’s body next to hers every morning, had spent mornings pretending to be asleep in the hope that Calum wouldn’t pull away from her and leave her cold. Calum, who knew Maeve had woken up minutes before, spent his mornings hoping that she wouldn’t move out of his arms, his face finding comfort in the crook of her neck. Mornings were quiet and hesitant, soft touches that both of them thought about during the rest of the day, hoping to wake up in one another’s arms once again. The nights were a different story. As the sun lowered into the sky, leaving streaks of gold, pink, orange, and red; Calum and Maeve found themselves huddled together. Sometimes Maeve would read out loud, her book telling the history of the clans that used to call the Highlands their home, and sometimes Calum would put on one of the old records that had been left behind in the cabin. Those were Maeve’s favorite nights, Calum’s too, when the music echoed from the walls and the both of them laid under the shared fur blanket, watching the darkness of the sky from their favorite window. It was when the sun went down and the cold settled in that Maeve and Calum got to really know one another.

One night, when dinner had been quiet, both too lost in their own heads to really say much. Their conversation changed, from the usual small talk that had been shared during the day, to something more. The world was teasing them both, the candle-lit dinner they shared one of the first either of them had ever had a candle-lit dinner. Calum liked to think he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't recall a time where he and his fiancé, well ex-fiancé, would've ever had a dinner like this. Maeve hadn't ever had a date with James like this, not that this was considered a date, but theirs had always ended up with cheap takeout and a studying session. This felt different, it felt calm and the quiet surrounding them never turned awkward or tense. It was comforting.

"So, what's your story?" Calum asked softly, "I mean, I know you said you have an interview with the university but...well, what're you running from?"

Maeve tensed at the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the man in front of her and wondered if he truly could read her like that. Had she been that obvious about wanting to escape her crowded city life? Had everyone she'd encountered known she belonged in the countryside where she was born, never to be able to thrive in a bustling city? Or did Calum, who seemed very much like herself, run away to Scotland too.

"I...I guess I just needed to find myself and I thought that Scotland would be that place for me?" Maeve shrugged, her eyes looking down at the glass of whiskey in front of her, "My parents met in Edinburgh, they road tripped around the entire country together, and fell in love here."

She looked back up at Calum, who watched her intently, his eyes focused on her eyes, watching as Maeve tried to look everywhere but his. With a sigh, and another sip of the bitter whiskey that made her blood warm, Maeve continued on with the story. How her small town had been a bore to her but the second she had left she'd missed it like hell. That no matter how much fun she'd found in the big cities she'd traveled to, nothing made her feel like home. How this was supposed to be a way to get rid of the aching feeling in her chest and that maybe she would find something here in Scotland that the rest of the world hadn't shown her yet. She didn't miss the way Calum's shoulders tensed as she explained the situation with James and how she'd never truly felt love for him.

"And what about you? Why did the university professor run away?" Maeve asked quietly, her eyes finally meeting his across the table.

Maeve listened to Calum, listened as he spilled his heart out over a plate of potatoes and roasted veggies. She listened as his hands fidgeted with the loose string on his sweater and bit her lip as she realized just how alike they were. Soon enough, the rainstorm had slowed into a drizzle and the kitchen was cleaned up. It wasn't too long after that Maeve found herself plopping down on the couch next to Calum, pulling the warm fur blanket over both of their laps as the chill of the autumn night settled in around the house. The unwanted guest had forced both Maeve and Calum into warmer clothes, socks and hoodies peeking out over the edges of the blanket as they watched the flicker of the candlelight bounce on the walls.

"I tried, you know? To make myself love her and to make her love me," Calum sighed and shrugged as he took another sip of the whiskey, "I thought that if I proposed to her, our hearts would figure it out and everything would be fixed."

"And did it?" Maeve asked, her soft eyes finding him in the candlelight, "Did she fall in love with you?"

"Deep down, I knew it would never work." he sighed and frowned as he looked down at his fingers that had been playing with a loose thread on the blanket covering them both, "I'm surprised she hadn't left earlier."

"She's a fool," she mumbled, her knee nudging against Calum's causing both of them to lean into the warmth of it, "You're a great guy."

"You've only known me for three days, you can't possibly know that about me," Calum laughed and shook his head, his eyes gazing out the large window, watching the waves in the river splash against the bedrock.

"And from that, I already know that you're a great guy," she chuckled and shrugged, "You made me breakfast even after I made you get more wood late last night. Which by the way, is totally happening again."

"Yeah? You’re coming with me this time, okay?" Calum teased, knowing that there was no way she'd be stepping out after dark to walk to the shed where all the firewood had been stored.

"In your dreams, Hood."

That night, when the candles had been blown out and the fireplace in the bedroom crackled to keep them both warm, Calum had still been awake when Maeve had scooted back against him. Calum had been up for a while, his brain too awake to even think about sleeping, Maeve’s soft breaths keeping him grounded in the bed. He knew it was a mistake, to even consider that his heart raced a little faster when she was near him, but the past couple of days had taught him a lot. He’d never really believed in coincidences, but his mother had always told him that life had a funny way of showing him what he needed, even if it wasn’t what he’d expected. Maeve was like no one Calum had ever met before. She was so intelligent and well-spoken, she somehow always had something to say in response to Calum. She never seemed to get bored of all the reading or even of the random facts Calum would spew out whenever he remembered something. She was new and refreshing, like the air he’d breathe in every morning after he’d made it out of the cottage.

But Calum was being foolish again, he couldn’t feel anything for the stranger, that’s all she was really, a stranger who’d been booked in the same room as him and now he was stuck with her until someone noticed they’d missed their checkout date. He was stuck feeling his palms sweat whenever she talked with him in that soft voice, the one that gave him goosebumps he was thankful were hidden under his sweaters. He couldn’t have feelings for her because in a few days she’d be in Edinburgh having a life-changing interview and Calum would be on a flight back home, hoping that when his flight landed, he’d stopped regretting walking into the empty house he’d left weeks ago. He’d been so stuck in his brain, trying to stop his feelings for the stranger next to him, that he hadn’t noticed her breath hitting his neck. The soft snores leaving Maeve had made Calum’s thumb on her hip stop it’s up and down stroking, one he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing, and made him look down at her.

In the darkness of the room, where the only source of light came from the embers of the fireplace gave him only so much to work with, Maeve looked ethereal. Calum’s chest stopped rising, his eyes wide as he watched the small twitches in her nose and eyes as Maeve dreamt. The curls she’d usually push away when she was asleep were falling down onto her eyes, Calum’s hand coming up to push them behind her ear. Maeve’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, leaving Calum frozen in place with his finger on the warmth of her cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered, her sleep-induced haze making her lean into the touch, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Calum breathed out, his lungs finally receiving a new life as the oxygen once again rushed into them, “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Maeve, whose brain was slowly waking up, blushed at his words. Her eyes moved up to meet his in the darkness, the deep brown of his nearly replaced by his pupils which had dilated. In a moment of courage, where Maeve pushed away any of the warnings telling her to not move her head to the side, she cupped the hand that was on her cheek in hers and pressed a kiss onto the palm of it. Her eyes closed again as she felt the hitch in Calum’s breath, feeling him tense for just a second before he practically melted into her touch. They both laid there, staring at one another in the darkness they’d both used for lingering and greedy touches, their breathing matching as they leaned in closer and closer. The wind had picked up outside, whistling against the window panes, as if even nature outside knew the tension between the two bodies that were in the safety of the loneliness of the forest.

There was a beat of silence, a beat where Calum and Maeve took each other in one last time before their lips connected. In the dark, they found one another, pulling each other closer and closer until Calum could feel the soft noises leaving both him and Maeve against his chest. Her lips were soft, leaving Calum chasing after them for more after she pulled away to catch her breath. He hadn’t waited too long, the electric feeling of her against him back after less than a second. Outside, the window had continued to howl, the forest seemingly cheering for the two as the darkness outside shielded them from the world. The river still flowed beside the house, the water crashing against the large rocks like their lips had moments before. They moved in a flow, much like a river, clothes thrown off and kisses crashing onto unseen skin.

Calum’s hands were hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch Maeve, but the soft sigh that left her when his hand finally squeezed the thigh she’d rested over his hip was all he needed to keep going. His body pushed up against hers, his other arm coming up to push her down onto her back, the soft mattress pulling Maeve in like a hug. From where he was, kneeled at her side, Maeve’s breathless and flushed look made Calum want to wake up from such a cruel dream, his jaw going slack as Maeve’s knees dropped onto the bed and Calum slotted himself between her. Calum’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing up against one another in a silent plea for whatever it was they had started to be more, his breathing heavy as he felt her knees tighten around his waist and pull him closer. The friction between them had elicited soft groans from them, their lips once again finding each other in the dark as they found a rhythm, one so delicious Calum was sure he was seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Please,” Maeve breathed out, her hands running up and down his chest until she grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up his body, throwing it somewhere into the darkness, “Calum.”

Time slowed in those seconds where all they could focus on was the way their bodies moved together. Maeve was lost in Calum’s kisses, her hand sliding down between them and past the soft hair trailing down onto the boxers he’d been wearing. Calum’s mind was too far gone, his body tensing as he felt Maeve wrap her fingers around him, his hips jerking into the touch as his lips left a trail of kisses down her jaw and neck. Calum’s mind was running with all the things he would do to her, the fear of Maeve somehow knowing all that Calum was imagining overtaking his brain before he felt another wave of pleasure course through him as he felt the flick of Maeve’s wrist on him. Their bodies moved as one, moving through the darkness and racing for that crash that would leave them both seeing nothing but a blinding white behind their eyelids. That crash came eventually, their breathlessness hidden by the howling wind outside. Their bodies fell back onto the mattress as the stones from the very bridge that had forced them together had fallen days before. Through the pants and the mind-numbing pleasure, Maeve and Calum found their way back to one another, soft kisses shared in between whispers which wouldn’t have been distinguished between the sound of the rain falling outside. The droplets hitting the windows as Calum looked down at Maeve, who had been pressing soft kisses onto his chest, tracing over the ink splayed across it. She looked up at him, almost as if to ask what the ink said, the darkness hiding the design of it.

“In the morning,” Calum whispered, kissing her forehead as he felt the softness of her sink into his touch.

Both of them listened to the rain outside, wondering if the morning would bring more touches as the midnight had, or if they’d wake up in silence hoping that the other would speak up first. But Calum would explain the ink on his chest in the morning, would tell Maeve the story behind the words tattooed onto his body for the rest of his life. And Maeve would listen as she stroked the tan skin she’d run her fingernails down only hours before, leaving crescent shapes indented into his skin as a reminder that the pleasure and the ache in between her legs hadn’t been a dream. But that would come in the morning, for now, all they could do was doze off as the rain sang for them once more.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @matchacal @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @2fangirl4u @multistann

#calum hood x oc #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood blurbs #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos x you #5sos blurbs #5sos fics #5sos #5 seconds of summer #better love series #gemma writes #5sos smut #calum hood smut

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #16

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

[AO3]

~POV Sinbad~ Mori wasn't just a Prophet, she had immense knowledge of her own that was going to make Sindria untouchable. Sinbad was going to achieve his dream much sooner than he had ever imagined. Mori was special; intelligent, clever, capable, and she could read the waves of Fate. Was there any other woman as attractive? The unknown craving that had plagued him for the past week was placated. Delicious wine, beautiful women, delicious food -none of his normal pleasures had fulfilled whatever that feeling was, but for some reason this moment with the his Beautiful Prophet was. "And now you're *my* kind and generous King Sinbad, ... Right?" Mori's bashful confidence was always endearing, but hearing her call him 'my King' in person made something snap in him. They were in a corner and Mori is small; he could easily block view of her in case any of the magicians turned around. He wouldn't even have to lean that far to get a taste of her. "DO EITHER OF YOU Have an ounce of self awareness??” Ja'far popped the bubble that had formed around the two.

King Sinbad froze. Everyone in the room was watching them. Sinbad stood up straight. He shouldn't exactly continue his plans with an audience. He removed his hand from the window and crossed his arms. Yam was practically shaking the magician next to her. "I wasn't the only one to see it this time!” An older magician with a beard laughed and said something like 'to be young.' Another said something a long the lines of "So it's like that then." Ja'far was still grumbling about his King's behavior -he should know better by now, he promised he wouldn't, etc. but 1. Sinbad didn't do anything wrong, and 2. he said he knew what he was doing -he knew how to handle flirting with Mori; he never said anything about not flirting with her. "And you, Lady Prophet," Ja'far changed targets. 'Oh?' Sinbad didn't expect Mori to be reprimanded for his flirting -although, she did flirt back. Ja'far continued, "You said that you knew about Sin's habits so wouldn't fall for him or-" "AAAAAH" Yamuraiha yelled over the other General as she crossed the room as fast as she could, and clapped a hand over his mouth. She turned to the King and Prophet with wide eyes and a forced smile. "Your Majesty! Mori! Would you like to see the spell again with our new changes?!" She didn't let go of Ja'far. The group of magicians started supporting her suggestion with "Let us show you," "I'm sure we've got it this time," and reciting the changes to the formula. They were clearly trying to stop Ja'far from discouraging Mori. Sinbad had no idea why they suddenly decided to become his wingmen, but it was convenient for him since he planed to do more than flirt with her later. Mori walked up to the Generals, although she only addressed Yamuriaha. "Yes, please! Even if it's not perfect I'd like to see your progress!" She spoke with the same forced enthusiasm as Yam. Sinbad only got a glimpse before Mori's back was to him, but her face was definitely a brighter red than it had been a moment ago. She was getting better at flirting with him, but she couldn't hold her composure for long. The King laughed as the head magician practically body checked Ja'far out of her way and left him out of the group before they preformed the newly revised spell. This time it produced a mostly clear stone. It wasn't a high quality diamond, but they had done it. They would have to be careful with this though since it could lower the market value of whatever they make. As they figured out the specifics for every substance they needed, Sindria could become fully self sufficient -they would still deal in trade so as to not completely leave the rest of the world behind. It was amazing. His magicians were amazing for being able to figure this out in such a short time, and his Prophet was just as -if not even more- amazing for knowing all of this and being able to explain it to them. When the excitement around the magic spell died down they finally showed him the microscope. It was a prototype so they had to be gentle with it. Two pieces of glass with water squished between them were slid under and when Sinbad looked through the lenses he saw the strange small creatures that Mori had written about. Seeing them forced him to accept that what Mori wrote about 'germs' had to be true too -and those were even smaller than these things. Looking at those things squirming around and knowing they were everywhere made his skin crawl. The King stopped looking through the device. "They really are real." "Yup." Mori responded plainly. "And now that you all know and have proof. There's going to have to be a lot of changes. The way illnesses are handled is obvious, but there's going to have to be a lot more changes to how food and housing and things are handle to better maintain sanitary environments. I know a bunch of sanitation procedures so I can help there too." Ja'far was rubbing his temples. "This is going to be a logistical nightmare. Do you realize that we are going to have to fix all those things and get all Sindrians to understand without having it affect our production or

trade??" "It's not like we're doing this alone." Mori tried to comfort him. "We'll figure something out." The conversation moved to this new problem. His Beautiful Prophet really was something else. She had solutions to problems they didn't even know they had. Mori had a habit of using her hands whenever she talked -even more when she was excited. She was cute and deserved to know, but she was in the middle of helping his people so he would hold his tongue and just watch her. If Sinbad was honest, he had stopped listening to the conversation a while ago and was just looking for an opportunity to finally ask Mori -and Yam of course- if they would join him for dinner so he could get all of his Generals more aquatinted with her. Someone mentioned a specific scroll in one of the libraries. Before the whole group could drag Mori out of the room, King Sinbad raised a hand and got everyone's attention. "I know there's a lot to do, but I have some things to discuss with my Beautiful Prophet as well." Mori looked back at him. "What is it?” It seemed that nickname wasn't as affective as before -hopefully it was just the timing. "Is it something we can talk about here?” "I was thinking we could talk over dinner," Sinbad paused to see how she would respond to the implications. Mori's eyes widened and her shoulders tensed, and best of all that blush came back. "With all of my Generals, of course." Mori blushed harder realizing he was messing with her. Yam looked disappointed at first -his Generals cared way to much about him finding a wife- but then she looked content with being a part of the plan. "You might have met them, and know them from reading Fate but they still don't know you yet." He finished. Yam spoke first. "This is a great idea. Pisti was just telling me that she wanted to get to know Mori." Mori regained her composer. "I'd like to get to know everyone personally too, so I'm find with this." It was a roundabout way of saying 'yes.' Her blush was gone but she was still embarrassed. With that settled, Ja'far let Yam and Mori know when dinner would be ready. It was a little earlier than he normally ate but this would give them more time to mingle before they'd be completely out of sunlight. "Well then," the King turned to his Prophet, "since we have some time beforehand-" "OH no you don't!" Ja'far cut in. "You've already had a long enough break *and* you plan on ending early today? The least you can do is work your butt off until then." --- ~POV Mori~ The King was pushed out of the room by his right hand man. I had a mix of relief and longing watching him go. "You'll see his Majesty again soon." Yam had a sweet smile on her face, but I knew better than to trust it. All eyes were on me and they were no longer the eyes of academics; they were hungry for gossip. I was not ready to explain why shipping us was a bad idea. "So about that scroll you mentioned earlier..." I completely shifted conversation back to the eventual rebuilding effort and luckily one of them obliged me.

I was lead to one of the libraries and handed a few scrolls on the construction used in the country. I had read a little on ancient construction methods out of interest and some on modern methods since my uncle worked in the industry. I had a little bit of experience with construction when I worked at a community theater, but it wouldn't be anything the people here wouldn't know. That paired with these documents showing how magic was used in the process made what little I did know completely useless. 'Can't know everything I guess.' I turned my head up towards the ceiling. I wasn't sure how much time I had left and I decided to use it soaking up the ambience of the library. The smell of paper, the maze-esc layouts, the quiet feeling; it's like a gentle space separate from the rest of the world. The libraries of the Black Libra Tower also had huge windows to let in a ton of natural lighting. I was really going to enjoy working in this place. --- Yam and I ended up lost in conversation, so someone ended up being sent to bring us to the dinner. When we finally arrived and opened the doors to the dining hall my nose was filled with the smell of herbs and delicious food. This was my first meal that wasn't paired with bitter medicine. I might have been procrastinating subconsciously to avoid the medicine I was no longer taking. Everyone was already there chatting. The long table was covered with food, but I couldn't make out any of it from the door. King Sinbad was sitting at the head of the table at the other end of the room with a goblet in his hand. Yamuraiha started in ahead of me and called into the room. "I'm sorry we're so late! We were talking about magical proofs and," she rambled in her explanation. I heard a few comments of congrats for getting better and said "Thanks" reflexively more than consciously. As I got closer, I ignored the Generals at the table to look at the spread. There were a few different types of fish, meat of some kind, a bunch of vegetables, and bread. It brought tears to my eyes; It was so beautiful. The Imuchukk laughed at my obvious interest in the food. "What are you waiting for? There plenty for everyone." He was sitting closest to the door. I didn't look away from the food when I answered. "I'm small with a small stomach so I'm going to need to pace myself to be able to eat a little of everything. If I save the best for last like I normally do then I might not even get to eat it." That garnered laughs and comments. I ignored them; I was too busy weighing my options. As the guest of honor I was placed at the opposite end of the table from King Sinbad. Thank goodness, because I didn't think I could handle being super close to him all evening. Even with the direct line of sight, I had distance to protect me. Yam sat on the other side of Hina from me. Pisti was on my other side. Sharrkan was across from Yam. Spartos was between Yam and Ja'far. Drakon was across from Ja'far. And Masrur was between Drakon and Sharrkan.

I picked up my plate to get food. "Alright. I've decided to just grab my favorites. If I have room later then so be it!" I was used to being watched while I eat so their stares didn't bother me. I covered my plate in all of the types of fish and some vegetables. "I take it you like fish?" Sinbad asked while I was taking some of the fish that was on his end of the table. "It's my favorite!" I answered excitedly. I could tell as I placed the grilled fish on my plate that it was going to be heavenly. It was already flaking and letting the smell reach me faster. I couldn't wait to get back to my seat and took a bite of the fish. It melted in my mouth. I let out a squeak of approval as I grabbed another bite. After a moment Sinbad asked me another question. "What do you think of greasy foods?" It felt pointed. "I'll eat it if it's the only option, but I'm not a fan." The Generals made some comments that amounted to, "They have the same taste." I was too busy enjoying my food to think about what they were saying. Pisti asked me her own pointed question as I sat down. "Do you like alcohol?" They were comparing me to Sinbad. I suddenly remembered the Official Character Encyclopedia. According to it, Sinbad's favorite food was fish, his least favorite was greasy, and his favorite snacks were the types that paired well with alcohol. "I'm not a big drinker, but it's not like I dislike alcohol. I'm just allergic to sulfites." "Huh?" The group asked in unison. Time to explain one of my allergies again. "Sulfites are a very useful preservative so it was also added to a lot of foods back home including alcohol. All grape wines produce sulfites naturally. When I ingest about 2 shots of a drink that contains sulfites I will struggle to breathe for about an hour." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the goblet of wine I didn't realize was in front of me was grabbed by Hinahoho. They all looked panicked at each other like they had just dodged a bullet. In an attempt to relieve the tension, Sinbad asked Yam to catch everyone up on the meeting from earlier. Yam started ranting about the progress we had made with the alchemy magic. While they focused on reclaiming the mood, I focused on the delicious food. I tried a root vegetable on my plate. It was a little earthy with a subtle sweetness. The seasoning added to the sweet, but also had a little spice similar to cracked pepper. It had been streamed so it wasn't crunchy. I was asked to repeated what I told Sin and Ja'far earlier about the tech of home, Their questions had me explain more about my world and many of the things I had done: volunteer work to get scholarships, marketing for some networking organizations and some other companies, an assistant and teacher in out of school programs for 6 years while also working at a theater to pay for my own education. I only mentioned some of the places I had traveled to. I didn't even get to the things I did as hobbies or in working toward my dream of being a full time writer&artist. "I'm surprised by how much you say you've done." Drakon commented. I had heard similar before when talking about my past. "Is it really that shocking? Considering my age, I think it makes sense for me to have done a bit." It's more shocking that I was doing all that while getting so sick from my chronic illnesses that I would be fully bedridden and need a machine to breathe at least once a year until I turned 15. But I had also ate up inspiration porn as a child as a motivation to not let my body hold me back if I could. "Aren't we around the same age?" Yam asked me in response. I laughed. "Do I look 23 to you?" I've been mistaken for much younger than I actually was for as long as I could remember. It 1st became a problem when I turned 18 and got told I was clearly 12 with a fake ID when trying to buy an M rate game (Devil May Cry btw). "You're not?” ”Nope.” I rested my elbows on the table, interlocked my fingers, and I placed my chin on top with a smile, "But I'm curious how old you all think I am now." At 25 I was mistaken for a 14

year old. At least, a few months back someone thought I was legal (they guessed 19). Most realized I had to be older the more they talked to me, but their impressions never fully dissipated. As frustrating as it was, I found amusement in times like this by turning my age into a guessing game. Sharkkan had the face of someone fearing they had hit on someone too young. "You are at least 20, right?” They all suddenly looked worried. "I'm definitely older than 20." I answered. Pisti laughed. She was also short with a baby face; she knew my struggle. "Maybe she's older than Ja'far!” Of course she would make the closest guess. "There's no way she's older than me." Ja'far scoffed. "I am older than 25 though.” I could have teased him but I held my tongue since he already seemed annoyed with me. "How old are you then?” Hina asked. "I'm 29.” I smiled at everyone's surprise. I might only have surface levels similarities to Sinbad, but when you're a simp for a fictional character does that really matter? "I was born on April 7th so I should only be 5 days younger than King Sinbad since he was born on the 2nd. However, I don't know if there's a time dilation between my world and this one. The day we met was Oct 3rd for me back home. It wasn't the same date here, was it?" Sinbad is 29, Ja'far is 25, and Masrur is 20 during the Balbadd arc; their 2nd set of ages are 30, 26, and 21 respectfully. Ja'far's birthday is Aug 30th and Masrur's is Dec 27. Those 2nd ages listed can't be for right after the 6 month time skip because no matter how you calculate it the shortest distance between those 3 birthdays is 8 months. I was really interested in how the current arbiter of this world was going to figure this out. "It was Oct 3rd here too." "Oh. Well, that's convenient," was what I said while my thoughts were cursing the arbiter. 'That lazy son of a bitch synced the worlds so they wouldn't have to deal with a time dilation. I can feel it. Hold on... I arrived on Oct 3rd; the coup was 4 days later on the 7th. 6 months later would mean Sinbad arrives back in Sindria on my birthday. Did some 'real me' somewhere plan a b-day present for myself in some self-indulgent fanfiction??' ((Yes. Yes, I did UwU & I plan on making Mori panic then too.)) King Sinbad had that smile on his face that told me he was ready to flirt. "I didn't realize we were so close in age." No colors got in my way when he talked. That was good. I was desensitized again, and wouldn't have to deal with unnecessary distractions. I couldn't tease Ja'far, but I could tease his Majesty. "I know, right? It's amazing what the difference of 5 days can do for one's complexion." Sinbad froze and his expression went blank. Something that was probably wine sprayed across the table as Sharkkan had a spit take before erupting into laughter with Hinahoho and Pisti. "Oh my" Yam murmured with a hand over her mouth. Drakon , Spartos, and Ja'far stared at me in disbelief. Sinbad still wasn't responding... Maybe teasing him about his age was a bad idea. So far, unless it was something important I flirted with Sinbad since that was the best way to get on his good side; hearing something like this from me must have hurt a bit extra. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I forgot just how sensitive he was about his age. I ended up flailing my hands from nerves, and to get his attention. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that when I know how self conscious you are." He flinched. "I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but you won't look any older than you do now 5 years from now..." "I uh.. Is that so?" Sinbad asked as he started to regain himself. "It is. You'll be just as-” "If you're willing to talk about the future, does that mean you are finally ready to explain about those calamities you mentioned in Balbadd?" Ja'far cut in with a fierce look. He had been waiting for any mention of the future to bring this up. The King spoke with a gentle but stern tone. "I don't know if this is the time for that conversation. This is Mori's first meal with

everyone after all." "I'm fine. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. As long as everyone else is willing to talk seriously for a few mins, I don't see the problem." I had been avoiding this conversation for long enough. There were things I still planned to keep secret, but I couldn't avoid having this conversation forever. And besides, I could feel in the waves that Ja'far wasn't going to let this night end unless I explained some of it. ((I have the next 3 chapters written but it's going to take me a bit to draw all of illustrations & comics. Also, good luck to all the students reading this. I know classes are starting up again. Be safe out there.))

#magi prophet fanfic #sinbad x oc #magi sinbad x oc #king sinbad #sinbad magi #magi fanfic #magi sinbad #yamuraiha

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honeyoongiah · 4 years

Text

114 days

Pairings: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Idol! Jungkook, drabble, fluff, smut

Words: 2k

Warnings: explicit sex

Summary: Jungkook AU drabble

1. I love you, I hope you know that

7. I like it when you say my name

13. You're so much fun to touch

16. No I am supposed to make you feel good

A/N: I'm sorry that you had to wait a little longer 👉🏻👈🏻 but at least the drabble got a little longer than expected! I hope you enjoy it!💕

It's been about 4 months since you've seen your boyfriend the last time. He was on tour and that meant he wasn't even in the same country as you. Even though you tried talking on the phone and texted as much as you could, it was difficult.

The different time zones made it hard to text and talk much on the phone, additional to that Jungkook was obviously very busy and when he wasn't he was dead tired and needed lots of sleep.

You lost count of how often he fell asleep while facetiming with you or how often you didn't even come that far because he fell asleep as soon as his body met the hotelbed.

You tried being understanding and supportive, it was his dream and you loved how his eyes shined when he told you about the concerts. His voice was angelic and you knew he belongs on the stage, but having a stable relationship was hard.

You had your own responsibilities so you couldn't just go with him, even though you'd love to.

It's been 114 days already since you've kissed him goodbye, you counted every day and got more and more frustrated.

It was already 11pm, you were on your couch eating a last bowl of cereals before going to bed. It's been yet another Friday other people went on dates with their significant other but you spent it alone.

First you thought it must be someone breaking into your apartment when you heard the door. You grabbed the first thing in reach to defend yourself, a half full bottle of water, and walked towards your hall. When you realized who stood in front of you, your hand let go of the bottle that hit the floor with a loud boom.

Jungkook smiled bright when he saw your shocked face. "Hello my love. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I wanted to surprise you." You immediately ran into his arms, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear any second. Tears ran down your face when he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You couldn't believe that he was finally back at home, finally standing here and kissing your face while whispering how much he missed you.

You sobbed softly, stroking his cheeks and his neck, running your hands through his hair and back to his cheeks. "Your hair grew so much.", you said with a soft smile, you loved how cute he looked with those long curls. "Mhm they wanted to cut it but I told them that they'd have to fight you then so they shouldn't try."

A sigh left your body, you were finally at peace again. Your boyfriend was back. "Let's not stand in our hall all night hm? I prefer to sit down.", he grinned, kissing your lips softly and guiding you to the living room. He pulled you on his lap, placing soft kisses all over your face that tickled your skin. "Don't cry anymore hm? I'm here."

You nodded, but your tears didn't plan to stop for now. You were just so overwhelmed to have him here that you didn't know what to do first. "Ah Jungkook.", you whispered softly, not able to form any other sentence for now.

"I like it when you say my name.", he answered with a loving expression. You felt his hand stroking your hair behind your ear and you almost forgot how much his touch affected you. Every single time he made you relax with his presence.

"I-I missed you so much it was so horrible to be without you.", it blurred out of you. You didn't plan on telling him, because you knew he'd feel bad for making you sad, but you couldn't help it. "I hated every single day without you, I couldn't get distracted I missed you so so much it never stopped."

His gaze changed from happy to guilty. "I'm so sorry that I left for so long, I didn't have a choice. You know I want to be with you every minute.", he apologized, but you shook your head. "I know that, kook, I really do. I'm just so happy that you're back."

Jungkook stroked your back and leaned his forehead against yours. "I love you. I hope you know that.", he whispered to you. You slightly nodded. "I love you too. You make me feel loved and you make me so happy."

He stroked your cheek and leaned in for a long slow kiss. You missed how warm and soft his lips were, how good they felt on yours as if they were made for each other. "Why are you even here? I thought it would be another 2 or 3 weeks."

"I honestly couldn't handle being separated from you anymore and I managed to get them to let us go earlier.",he said honestly and began kissing you again. God, you loved him so much. Suddenly all your worries about how stable your relationship really was were gone, you only felt the deep love for him inside of you.

Your soft kisses turned to a wilder make out session when Jungkook pushed his hands under your shirt. "I missed your skin, I missed being close to you.", he whispered and pulled your shirt over your head. You weren't going to complain, the nights without him left you needy and even though you tried helping each other out on the phone, it just wasn't the same.

"Me too Jungkook please touch me.", you pleaded, pulling up his shirt too and wasting no time to open his pants. He grinned at you while he watched how you struggled with the button. He opened it for you when you whined in frustration and grabbed your hips to lay you down on the couch.

Jungkook hovered over your body, kissing your neck and touching every spot he could reach. His skilled fingers opened your bra within seconds that he threw away carelessly. "God you're so beautiful."

He began kissing down from your neck to your chest, leaving soft marks on your skin until he reached your breasts.

His big hands cupped and massaged them, making you moan softly. His eyes were glued to your face, watching your expression when he used his tongue on your nipples. "J-Jungkook please don't tease me." - "I'm not teasing you, I need time to enjoy every detail of you after such a long time."

You felt his lips kissing down your belly as he opened your pants and pulled them down together with your panties. For a moment he just stared at you, appreciating every detail of your body under him. You felt like his hands were everywhere at the same time, stroking your thighs and massaging your breasts but also teasing you between your legs.

You whined when he touched your clit gently, moving your hips in hope you'd get more friction. Jungkook smirked at how needy you were for him. "You're so much fun to touch." - "God please give me more I can't wait any longer."

He began to kiss your leg until he reached your clit, wrapping his arms around your thighs and placing kisses everywhere. His tongue stroked over you gently and you whined again, moaning his name and hoping he'd get the message.

What you didn't expect was his fingers teasing your entrance now, wasting not much time to enter you slowly. You moaned louder now, grabbing his hair and pushing his face deeper into you. You had no patience to wait until he'd stop with teasing.

Jungkook just chuckled softly in response, moving his fingers inside of you and starting to lick you. "I missed your taste baby.", he groaned while he moved faster. You held onto the couch, your eyes already rolling back in pleasure and you knew you wouldn't need much to reach your high.

"J-jungkook please don't stop I need to cum.", you pleaded and hoped he felt generous today. You knew your boyfriend loved to bring you to your limit, he loved edging you and making you beg but this time he just wanted to make you feel good.

"You can cum anytime babygirl I want to taste it.", he answered, picking up the pace and going harder now. His fingers hit your g-spot perfectly and you bit your lip, you knew the walls were thin and your neighbors didn't like listening to you two but there was no way that you could stay silent tonight. " Ohgod yes Jungkook fuck!"

You digged your nails into his shoulders now and he groaned in response. He loved that. "You turn me on so much. You can't imagine how much I wanted to do this every single night.", he admitted. "I thought about your moans and how you feel all the time it drove me crazy."

You wanted to answer him, to tell him that you felt the same way, but his words made you get closer to your orgasm and your brain wasn't in control of your words anymore. "Oh God ah close!"

Jungkook moved his tongue the way he knew you loved the most and brought you over the edge. Your body shook under him while you moaned his name loudly.

He helped you riding out your orgasm and licked his lips once he was done with you. You breathed heavily and felt like you needed a minute to calm down, but you didn't want to wait until then. Much to his surprise you got up and pushed him down, pulling his boxers away and revealing his already hard dick.

There was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you in pleasure. You wrapped your lips around his tip and pumped the rest of his dick with your hand. He groaned and watched how you took more and more in your mouth until he disappeared completely. "Fuck, you still take me like a good girl."

You looked up and nodded, a smirk on your face when you started bopping your head slowly. You scratched his abs and thighs with your nails and massaged his balls while you moved faster. His eyes were still on you as he grabbed your hair and guided your head. You let your jaw relax so he could fuck into your mouth easily.

His hips started thrusting up and he started to moan deeply as you felt yourself getting wet again. You loved how Jungkook used you and that was no secret. He noticed fast how turned on you got and pushed your body up to him. "Ride me."

"No, I am supposed to make you feel good.", you pouted. "There's nothing that feels better than to be inside of you babygirl I need that."

There was no way he had to tell you twice. You couldn't wait to finally feel him inside of you, to feel how he stretched you out and hit all the right spots to make you see stars. You sat on his lap and positioned his dick so you could slide down slowly. Both of you moaned again and you bit your lip.

He was big and you weren't used to it anymore, but it didn't take long until you rolled your hips and scratched his chest. "Fuck you're so hot.", he kept complimenting you and you blushed, it made you feel so good, so loved and cherished when he told you how beautiful you were on top of him.

You began to move faster and harder, you couldn't keep yourself silent even though you tried. Jungkook kept touching you on your most sensitive spots and you clenched around him every time. "Baby I'm close.", he moaned into your ear when he sat up to guide your hips.

"Cum inside of me please fill me.", you whined, scratching his back and marking his neck. You loved to leave your love bites everywhere, he was yours and you wanted people to know. "I'm close too."

Jungkook grabbed your neck and pulled you close for a long passionate kiss as you both came hard. Your body was shaking again but he held you close until your hips stopped moving. "I love you so much.", he said lovingly, kissing your neck and stroking your back, leaving goosebumps on your skin. "I love you too. I'm so glad I have you back with me."

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birdskullz · 3 years

Text

24hr Laundry

about 4k words • short story • scifi / horror

to celebrate the first day of camp nanowrimo AND receiving my first rejection letter ever, i'm gonna share the story that got rejected!! even so, i'm proud of myself just for finishing something, so enjoy, and happy camp everybody!!

If you've ever walked into a twenty-four-hour laundromat, you've walked into them all. They might not share the same layout or use the same model of machines, and the colors will differ from place to place, but the experience is consistent. Almost dependable. You can count on the sounds of laundry going and fluorescent lights buzzing, the smells of detergent and fabric softener. You know what to expect, and you take some comfort in that when you go to wash your intimates in front of strangers.

However, there's an air of impermanence to a laundromat, especially if it’s located in a strip mall. Despite standing open while countless businesses spawn and die around it, there's a lingering threat that the laundromat might not be there the next time you need it.

Mallory Fisher was no stranger to laundromats. As a junior in college, she had the process cleaning her clothes down to a science. The tiny laundry rooms on campus demanded that she be as quick and efficient as possible; they also demanded that students pay outrageous prices, nearly ten dollars to wash and dry one load. None of the other students seemed to flinch at the expense. It wasn't their own money they were spending. But Mallory just couldn't afford it anymore.

She decided to try out Mr. Scrubs' 24hr Laundry, a medium-sized facility in a strip mall about a five minute drive away from her dorm building. Wedged between a pizza parlor and a jewelry store, it seemed nice enough. The prices advertised in the window seemed even nicer, with wash and dry only costing about a buck fifty each. Mallory silently congratulated herself as she walked through the propped-open door. She'd beat the system. What a deal.

When she crossed the threshold, she was hit with a wave of déjà vu. She glanced around the place, and it felt like her eyes had looked at the same things in the same order once before: the vending machine by the front window, then up the row of dryers, then to the box TV mounted on the back wall. There was the older man sitting under it, reading the paper with his legs crossed just so. The weight of the clothes basket on her hip felt so familiar, so right. A strange prickle began to crawl up the back of her neck.

Mallory shook it off, knowing that she'd never set foot in Mr. Scrubs' before. She'd read somewhere that déjà vu was just the brain catching up with the eyes, nothing special about it. She could only remember it happening maybe twice before now, and each time it had been more of an inconvenience rather than anything to worry about.

The girl studied the place as she walked in further. It looked like it hadn't been renovated since the late eighties, but it wasn't the cute kind of retro that was trendy at the moment. The floors were a checkered pattern and grubby, the kind where the white tiles always looked dirty and the black ones had faded to gray. The machines seemed too big. The aisles between them seemed too cramped. Old neon signs buzzed in the front windows at a different note than the fluorescent lights overhead, which added a faint dissonance to the air.

Mallory noticed she could feel the discrepancy between the notes resonating in the base of her skull. She also couldn't tell if it was too bright or not bright enough; either way, seeing felt like a chore. Hopefully, she wouldn't be there long. Otherwise she might get a headache.

There didn't seem to be an attendant working since they didn't offer a dry cleaning service. There were only four other people there, which Mallory was glad for. The fewer people who had to witness her in her worn-out leggings and holey sweater, the better. She quietly headed for a washer in the back left corner and opened the round door. She bent over her laundry basket and started loading in her clothes.

"I wouldn't use that one, dearie," a wavering voice said, "It's broken."

Mallory turned and saw an older woman standing at one of the plasticky blue tables. She was working through a mountain of clothes in the rolling cart next to her, folding what looked like enough laundry for a small army. The woman wasn't looking at her, instead rather enraptured with her tedious work, so Mallory wasn't sure who she was talking to at first. Still, she surveyed her washer. It didn't seem like there was anything wrong with it, not that she was an expert on cleaning machines. But then, she spotted a piece of paper face down on the floor by her feet. She knelt and turned it over.

The page read "Out of Order" in messy, scribbled lettering.

Mallory stood and sheepishly tried to reattach the sign to the washer door. The tape was too old and thin, and frankly covered in too much dirt, grime and lint to work anymore. So instead, she pulled out the shirts she had already thrown in and tucked the paper into the door as she closed it. Then she opened the next washer down and began loading her clothes again.

"Thank you. You saved me the embarrassment," she said over her shoulder, even though her cheeks burned.

"It's no trouble. I can't remember the last time that washer worked, but Larry refuses to get it replaced," the woman replied.

"…Larry?"

"Yes, Mr. Scrubs himself. Mr. Cheap suits him better if you asked me."

Mallory gave a light laugh at that. She closed the washer hatch, turned and leaned her back against it. She thought the woman was a little aloof at first, but now she seemed genuine. She liked the way the red bandanna covering her limp gray hair brought out the apples of her cheeks. Her casualness put the girl at ease, encouraging her shoulders to loosen. She hadn't realized they'd gotten so tight. Plus, it seemed like she was being let in on some hot gossip that she couldn't get anywhere else. She wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Have you been coming here long, Mrs…?" Mallory trailed off, waiting for her matronly acquaintance to fill in the blank.

"Doyle. But please, call me Claudia," the woman said. That was nice, but despite not being a child anymore, Mallory would rather die than call this woman by her first name. Mrs. Doyle would be just fine. "And yes, for a good ten years or so. What about you, dearie? I've never seen you in here before."

"I'm Mallory. And I've been using the college laundry rooms up till now. I just couldn't take the prices."

"Ah, that's where they get you. Tuition just isn't enough, is it?"

"Tell me about it," Mallory said with another laugh.

The two continued on talking as the younger woman put in her detergent and the older kept folding. Topics ranged from Mallory's major (marine biology) to Mrs. Doyle's grandchildren (five in total). There were stories shared and helpful tips passed from one woman to another. The conversation was so refreshing and easy and warm that Mallory got lost in it, and she jumped when her washer chimed, signaling the end of the cycle. She kept talking with Mrs. Doyle over her shoulder as she began switching her load over to the dryer.

"Mallory, hon, don't you separate your clothes?" Mrs. Doyle asked her.

"Oh, I guess I don't. I mean, throwing everything in one load and washing it on cold hasn't done me wrong yet. Saves money too."

"Well, how about that. I suppose you could teach this oldie a few things, couldn't you?" Mrs. Doyle had finished her folding. She took out several bottles of laundry adjacent items— detergent, fabric softener, bleach, dryer balls— from the bottom of her basket to make room for the clothes. Mallory offered to help bring them out to the woman's car, but Mrs. Doyle assured her that she could manage just fine.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Mallory," she said when she had everything together, "Maybe I'll see you again sometime.”

"Most likely! This place is nice," Mallory replied warmly.

Mrs. Doyle turned to go, and Mallory turned toward the bench seating under the TV. The seats were open now, the old man having left a bit ago, and the small table held a thick layer of magazines. She selected the trashiest one she could find, sat down, and buried her nose in it. She had about forty-five minutes to kill and she was sure she could blow through at least half the stack.

"And dearie?"

"Yes?" The young woman looked up.

"Don't stay too long. I know this laundromat doesn't close, but some places just aren't meant to be open much later than this."

Mrs. Doyle gave her a long, serious look. Her cheery demeanor was gone, replaced with a sternness that felt like it was reserved for naughty children. Mallory was confused. She had walked in around six-thirty, which meant it couldn't be much later than seven o'clock. Of course, the nights were getting longer and the sun was starting to set, but she was sure she'd be out of here and back in her dorm room long before nine. It was sweet of the old woman to worry though.

"Sure, Mrs. Doyle. I'll leave as soon as this load is done."

That seemed to satisfy her new acquaintance, and with a stiff nod, the older woman again turned to go. Mallory looked back down at her magazine, but as she did, something caught her eye. A bottle of Clorox bleach sat abandoned in the rolling cart.

"Oh, wait, you forgot your—" Mallory began as she got up to grab the bottle. But when she looked, Mrs. Doyle was gone.

"...bleach.”

In fact, she found that everyone else had left too. She hadn't noticed anyone else leave, save for the old man. She’d been too caught up in talking. It was strange seeing the laundromat empty. It seemed larger now that she had it all to herself, and the electricity hummed louder without the presence of people to mask it.

She felt weird just standing there, holding a bottle of bleach out for no one to take. Even though there was no one to see her, she felt stupid. Better to leave it in the cart, she told herself. Mrs. Doyle would be back for it. As Mallory started back toward her seat, she felt like the déjà vu was coming over her again, that prickle coming back with such a vengeance that it felt more like a shiver. But instead of the uncanny sense she’d already done this, it felt more like she was between something. She didn't know what she was between, but she knew she was neither here nor there. Just between, and she didn't know which side to return to.

Mallory’s legs felt unsteady, and her fingers found the hem of her sweater, wringing and twisting as she came to a stop in front of the coffee table. She would have kept messing with it until it was threadbare, but she got a hold of herself. Mrs. Doyle had just left, and there wasn’t any reason to freak out. Being alone made it feel like she’d overstayed her welcome, that was all. Even so, the girl craned her neck to look for a clock that would tell her she was overreacting. But there wasn't one anywhere. The only indication that any time had passed was the darkness in the parking lot that the streetlights did nothing to keep away.

She paced the length of the laundromat to look out into the lot. Had it been that dark a minute ago? She was desperate to know the time. Her phone was in her car because she didn't have any pockets in her leggings. God, why couldn't women's fashion be functional too? Mallory knew she should go and get it, but staring out into the empty expanse of asphalt, unnaturally yellowed by the streetlights, made her think of all the things that could be out tonight. A man in a dark hood, a formless monster watching from the shadows, a crack in the ground waiting to swallow her up.

Impulsively, she kicked the door stopper away. The door swung closed too fast, no mechanism to keep it from slamming. Bang! It was so heavy that the store-front windows wobbled on impact. She doubted the glass would save her from anything trying to get inside, but she stole back a little sense of security, a little normalcy from it.

When she turned, Mallory noticed that her dryer was not the only appliance running anymore. She stared at the "out of order" washing machine, watching it shudder as it ran. When had it started? It wasn’t running a second ago, was it? She eyed the rest of the space warily, wondering who could have started a load without her seeing them. Mallory inched forward to peer into the clear door that served as a porthole view into the washer drum.

There weren't any clothes inside.

Water began to seep out of the door then, soap frothing around the rim like the machine had a bad case of rabies. Mallory began to back away slowly, both out of fear and to avoid getting her shoes wet. Embarrassment started to make her cheeks flush again. She felt like a kid again, a kid left home alone who made too big of a mess, with no hope of cleaning it up herself before her parents got home. If she could have afforded to buy new clothes, she might’ve bolted right then and there, the majority of her wardrobe yet to be dried be damned.

Her heart sank. She knew she couldn't do that.

With a stubborn determination born out of her tight budget, Mallory paused to take a breath and clear her head. She was an adult, she could handle a little water. It wasn't her fault the washer was leaking, and it would be unfair of Larry to blame her for it. He wasn't even here, nor did he hold any sort of authority over her. It wasn't like she was an employee. It wasn't like she was responsible for any of this. But despite telling herself that, she still aggressively searched for a mop or even some rags, just anything to soak up the water and erase the evidence of anything going wrong under her watch.

There, behind the counter where an attendant was supposed to sit: a mop with a cheap plastic handle. It sat in a yellow rolling bucket, leaning into the corner. Mallory warily eyed the misbehaving washer, half convinced that it might explode as soon as she let it out of her sight. Then she dashed around the counter.

Just as she got the mop in her hands, the fluorescents gave up the ghost and the laundromat went dark. Layers of sound began stripping away— first the hum of the lights, then the buzz of the vending machine and whatever else had been running in the background. Mallory cautiously stepped out from behind the counter. At least the neon signs in the windows were still on, reading "Open 24hrs" and "Self-Service" in bright red and blue. Their light reflected off the chrome of the appliances, mixed with the shifting texture of the TV's muted, staticky glow.

The washer thumped loudly, like an unbalanced load was being tossed around inside. As she edged closer, the mop raised defensively, even that stilled. Mallory passed the trusty dryer holding her clothes, doing it's job in the face of adversity like a good little machine. She reached out and patted the top of it in a silent thanks, keeping her eyes trained on the broken washer.

She stopped short when it’s hatch swung open.

The Out of Order sign rocked back and forth in the air, falling into the puddle below.

A thick tentacle burst from the circular void within the machine. It was nothing more than a blur, lunging straight for her. On impulse, she batted the thing away with the mop and sent it hurtling toward the wall, which it smacked against wetly. A dark gooey liquid splattered across the peeling wallpaper, like bug guts against a windshield. The limb then recoiled, yanking itself away and arching up into an 'S' shape, mimicking a cobra ready to strike. Mallory ran for the other end of the laundromat before it got the chance.

Something slimy got a hold of her ankle, tangling around it like seaweed in the ocean. She stopped, looked down. Another squishy tentacle curled around it, cold and wet and sticky. Before she had time to pry it away, the gray limb ripped her feet out from under her. In the next second her hip connected with the floor, a loud thump audible beneath the clatter of the mop. Hot pain sprouted while cold water soaked her side through. She didn't have time to care. The creature started to drag her body through the puddle, reeling her in like she was the catch of the day.

The girl's hands scrabbled uselessly along the checkered tiles. She needed a hand hold, a purchase, anything to stop the living winch from dragging her into its machine-washable lair. She risked a glance back toward it, and noticed a mouth had come out of the shadows of the washer drum. Three circular rings of horrid yellowed fangs snarled from inside, like a garbage disposal made of flesh. It sounded like a garbage disposal too, deep growls and horrible gurgling filling the girl’s ears. More tentacles poked out of the machine, wriggling in a way that discouraged the idea of bones. Mallory had come across many invertebrates in her studies, but all of them had been dead in a lab tray. Was this karma? Panic shot through her chest and she flailed her arms more desperately. Her hand managed to catch on something, closing around it in a death grip, only to discover she had a hold of one of the rolling carts.

But it was the rolling cart with Mrs. Doyle's bottle of Clorox.

Somehow, Mallory's luck hadn't run out. Two of the cart's wheels were twisted the wrong way, which put up enough resistance to slow the monster's relentless pull. She managed to get an arm over the lip of the cart's basket and reached for the Clorox bottle with the other. It was close enough to touch, but just out of reach of grabbing. Her fingernails skittered over the smooth white plastic, useless.

The creature jerked her and the cart backward, sending the bottle spinning. The handle of it bumped into the palm of her hand. Mallory let out a strangled noise of triumphant disbelief.

Another jerk, another foot closer to the load of laundry from hell. As a kid, this was just the sort of thing she would have been terrified of, but she was an adult now. She could handle this. She'd worked her ass off to pay her own way through college, played the capitalists' game and nearly won, and she wasn't about to die here and waste it. She tossed a defiant glare toward the gaping tunnel of teeth and then let go of the cart.

The thing sensed the slack immediately and heaved her up into the air so fast that she almost hit the paper tile ceiling. She dangled there for a moment, upside down, feeling like an animal caught in a snare. The tentacle began to reel her in again, slow and methodical. The mouth began to drool, the blue saliva oozing over the teeth and to the floor. Mallory thought the spit looked way too much like her dollar store detergent to be funny.

As it pulled her in, she twisted herself so she could brace her feet against the machine's chrome finish. For a heart stopping second her wet sneakers slipped against the smooth metal and she almost lost her footing. She'd have to make this quick. She struggled to unscrew the child-proof cap on the bleach. At her resistance, more tentacles began throwing themselves around her middle. The maw smacked impatiently, the webby membrane functioning as lips throwing mucus everywhere. The girl gagged when the smell of its breath wafted towards her face: the pungency of dirty water and mildew.

Finally the cap came away with a hard yank. The monster yanked at her too, making the bleach slosh in the bottom of the bottle. Mallory wasted no time in dumping as much of it down the thing’s throat as she could. It wasn't easy— as soon as the Clorox met the creature's gullet, it screeched horribly and started jostling her around. Its grip loosened and she hit the floor with a splash. For a moment she lay there, stunned, watching the mob of tentacles pulse, writhe, and flail above her. It was disgusting, like watching night-crawlers squirm in the bucket before being used as bait.

Spurred on by adrenaline, Mallory scrambled up and grabbed the washer door. She slammed it as hard as she could, but it bounced back into her waiting hand. It was just like any other time she hadn't closed one hard enough, save for the wet squelch and pained, keening squeal that followed. Again she threw the door, and again it came back to her. The clutch of tentacles slapped at everything they could reach, trying in vain to recapture their prey. She smacked one away that came too close to her face.

One more hard slam, and the tentacles wilted in defeat. They began retreating, hastily slithering back into the washer drum. As soon as the monster had folded in on itself enough, Mallory shut the door and threw her weight against it to keep it that way. Her feet slipped in the water. The machine shook and rumbled as the thing writhed within, bumping against her cheek painfully.

Gradually, like the end of a normal spin cycle, the machine quieted down. Mallory refused to let go at first, sure that the creature was just playing dead. When she worked up the nerve to back away, her posture was stiff and tense in case it lunged for her again. The air conditioning kicked back on then and she shivered, her wet clothes making her chilly. They clung to her and she felt like she’d been dipped head to toe in a vat of detergent. Mallory huffed angrily. She was sure she'd never get the monster's mucus out of her clothes, and the irony of it wasn’t lost on her. All this just to wash her clothes at a cheaper rate? How annoying.

She stood there for another moment, just breathing. In and out.

The odd sensation she’d been feeling, the uneasiness in her mind, was gone. She wasn’t between anything any more, and she could only hope she was back where she came from. But where had she been? What was that? Did that really just happen? How the hell did that monster-octopus-kraken-thing get into a washing machine in a land-locked state?!

A loud ding came from Mallory's left and she jumped away, crashing into the dryer next to her. She stared at the glowing green light just a few feet away. When she realized what it was, she sunk to the floor in relief, not caring about the puddle in the slightest.

Her laundry was finished. Her clothes were clean.

#real writer #writer #writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #horror short story #scifi short story #my writing #my post #horror writer #reblogs are much appreciated!!#my first rejection wowowow #:')

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bonesthebeloved · 4 years

Text

Everything Stays

Based on this beautiful comic by @chronophobica

Triggers/squicks: brief mention of unsympathetic light sides, crying.

Relationships: brotherly Remus and Roman, familiar Deceit and Romulus

Remus has been questing through the imagination out of pure boredom.

After Deceit had gone to the surface to 'spice things up' he'd been bored out of his mind. The promise that he'd be allowed outside soon enough not nearly enough to satisfy his need for a distraction.

So he'd packed himself some food and water, said goodbye to orange and off he went.

Now the plan had been to find some sort of creature or beast and befriend them, maybe wreck some havock while they were at it, but when he found an oddly familiar yet completely forgotten garden he'd decided that a little side quest couldn't hurt.

The garden was big and he knew his way around as if it were his own despite not remembering ever coming here. The feeling that he was missing something pulling him in further. His original plan completely forgotten as he walked through rosegardens and past ponds with beautiful swans and koifish. Cackling in delight as he saw a few bat's sleeping in one of the darker trees and spiders making their webs between the branches.

Roman would love this! Well, part of it anyways.

When Remus approached the middle of the garden, quietly humming and swaying along with the songs stuck in his head, he stilled. Looking closely at the fountain infront of him.

On the very top of it sat an axe.

A very familiar axe.

"Shit. Is that-?"

It was.

Creativities axe, the King's weapon, sat on top of the fountain, glinting faintly in the sun seeming to almost mock him as he simply stared at it.

They'd been trying to find it for ages. He and his brother looking all over the imagination and not a trace. Yet here it was. Out in the open in a huge garden in broad daylight.

He walked forward on autopilot, reaching for the weapon without a second thought. It felt strange, feeling it under his fingers again after such a long time. The thing seeming to almost vibrate (heh) with power as he wrapped his hand around it.

Huh. He remembered it being bigger.

He studied the light pink axe in his hands closely as a flash suddenly blinded him and there he was, a much bigger and much heavier axe stuck partly into the ground and Remus trying to desperately lift it.

He tried and he tried. He tried until he was all sweaty before remembering that he could just will his body to not sweat. He tried until the sun sunk below the horizon and he willed it back to midday with a wave of his hand. He tried until his muscles were sore and his other quest was long forgotten, the only thing on his mind getting that axe off the ground.

And when he finally stopped trying he sunk out and into his own room, not even bothering to change his dirtied clothing or wash his greasy hair before he dashed over to his brothers room.

"Remus!" came his brother's surprised shout as he kicked the door in with such enthusiasm that it hit the wall beside it. Creating a small dent his brother would wish away in no-time.

Roman was sitting at his desk, crumbled up paper and scrapped ideas everywhere around him. Looking tired in every sense of the word as Remus faintly remembered Deceit telling him something about a callback and their hopes and dreams being destroyed.

He wouldn't know either way. His connection to Thomas wasn't nearly strong enough to pick up on such subtle things.

His bond with Roman was however. And he frowned slightly as he felt the wave of stress and mental drainage wash over him before he wove it away. Focusing on the task at hand.

He'd try and talk about it later. They had more important things to discuss.

Like how Roman was going to have to help him lift a giant battle axe out from the dirt. They could deal with his brothers emotional issues later.

"So... Why exactly are you dragging me out of my room and into the middle of nowhere?"

They had been walking for half an hour now and Remus had been surprised when his brother hadn't spoken or complained much the first thirty minutes.

They had almost reached the garden. Remus could nearly see the first trees peeking out from over the horizon as they wandered onwards.

"I found the axe."

It was almost laughable. How fast and strong the reaction was his brother gave. "You WHAT? And you didn't tell me before? Remus this is fantastic news! Why didn't you bring it?"

"Too heavy. That's why I dragged you with me brother mine! Maybe you can help me lift it!"

Roman frowned at that. Looking sceptical as he looked his brother up and down. "Why not ask Decei-" "Busy. By the way, he'd start crying as soon as I mention the King." Roman nodded at that and stayed quiet for a moment. "Can't really ask the others. They wouldn't agree with you being there," he said, thinking out loud as they entered the garden.

He fell quiet after that, looking around in wonder and slight recognition. Remus could tell he was having the same experience as he had when first discovering it. "Familiar yet completely new huh?" "I- yeah... Yeah you're right."

It was then that Remus decided to take his brothers hand. Comfort was a thing he was still getting the hang of, but Deceit had been teaching him recently and he knew how to calm others down.

With Roman that ment physical contact and reassurance.

When Roman squeezed his brothers hand and gave the tiniest smile in response Remus knew it had been the right decision. And so they continued onwards with Remus leading the way knowing full well Roman knew the path they had to take aswell, walking through the garden in silence, hands skimming the hedges and statues covered in moss.

When they finally arrived at the center again their hands fell from eachother grasp. Remus eager to try to lift the axe again, Roman standing incredibly still. Staring at the weapon with a faint memory playing just behind his eyes were Remus couldn't see.

"Roro?" the nickname fell off his lips so easily the meaning of it almost slipped past him.

But he noticed how Roman looked up at him. Hopeful and fragile and so much like he had when they separated for good. He noticed how his fingers were twitching to reach out and hug his brother. To make sure this wasn't a dream.

And he noticed how all of the cut strings between the two of them began to slowly reconnect. A spark of hope growing into a little flame burning bright within him. The light at the end of the seemingly endless tunnel suddenly a little closer.

And the axe. Calling out for them to lift it. To hold it in their hands again and feel its power.

"Come on then Ree. Let's show this thing who's boss."

And four hands grabbed the handle, the two of them looking at eachother in silent conversation.

And Remus knew then that they would be alright. That this falling apart would be fixed again. That they had a chance to be brothers.

And two hands lifted the axe high above his head.

The King laughing loudly and open heartedly as he swung it around a few times. The thing light as a feather now that he held it in his hands.

And he danced around, twirling and jumping through the garden and enjoying the feeling of being himself again.

After a while he calmed down enough to form a coherend thought and closed his eyes. Focusing on the two halves and how they were reacting.

"How did this happen?"

"I have to talk to Deceit! He'll be over the moon to see us again!"

"The others will hate us again."

"We're finally together!"

"Why did they hate us?"

"Dee? Honey are you here?"

Romulus called out into the darkened livings pace of the serpent side. The axe leaning against the wall glowing faintly. Ponytail tied into a messy bun to prevent it from slapping them in the face when he ran to this location.

The inside of the room gasped loudly and then remained quiet for a full minute before Deceit emerged from the shadows looking small and frightened and oh so fragile.

"Hello buttercup." He called out again. Watching as another part of the snake's defences shattered and he started to shake. Slowly walking towards him.

"I missed you." he said, and that was it. Deceit ran the last bit of distance between them, crashing into the other and hugging him tightly while burying his head into his chest, hat flying off.

Romulus simply wrapped his arms around the lying trait and held him. Shushing and cooing. Telling him that it was alright and that he was here over and over again until the sobbing lessened to a manageable amount.

They didn't speak a word after that. Romulus didn't explain and Deceit didn't seem to want an explanation. He simply led the King inside and summoned a large pile of pillows. Plopping down and looking at the other until he did the same and movie night could start.

Deceit would want answers eventually. Hell, even the two parts of him wanted to know how this had happened. But for now, they all needed some comfort. And watching movies while cuddled close, creativity feeling whole again for the first time in years and Deceit feeling like the part of him that had been missing had finally clicked into place again was the right thing to do right now.

And as Aladin started playing and Dee put his head on the King's shoulder, loosely braiding a few strands of his long hair together, they all felt at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.

And they weren't quite the same as they had been. Their hair had grown and their personality had changed. Their balance lost and connection only now reforming. And maybe there were more insecurities and uncertainties now then there had been.

And the axe was glowing gently where it stood leaned against the closet. And while it may have earned a few scratches over the years, it still remained the same.

Just changed ever so slightly.

That ending went off the rails but I just wanted Romulus to hug Deceit so I made them. Sue me (please don't I'm sensitive)

Taglist: @purp-man @crazycookie13o @deceitifullies101 @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt @mylifeisadeceit

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occasionallyish--archive · 4 years

Text

Escapade

H.Shinsou x S.Todoroki, H.Shinsou x I.Midoriya, S.Todoroki x I.Midoriya, I.Midoriya x O.Uraraka, and various hints to other ships

Warnings: Slow burn(?), unrequited love, brief breaking of the fourth wall lmao

Have been writing since 03/07/2019

Word count 2810

Reblogs > Likes, pleasepleaseplease–

Lengthiness under the cut!

xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Outside ; Hitoshi Shinsou

Hitoshi shuddered, hands instinctively reaching to cup over his mouth in some attempt to warm them through his thick gloves. He gave warm, drawn out breaths that helped to spare his lips from the almost burning cold, however otherwise, the gesture proved fruitless– Even more than the occasional, leafless trees that he passed. And so, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave a somewhat frustrated sigh that easily converted into Winter fog.

He hated almost everything about the season– Shivering in the snow, persistent carolers, and the pressure to buy gifts for people that he barely knew. At least he had the excuse to take a break from school and hide inside during the whole of said break.

Regardless, however, the purple-haired male was there: Walking through the snow, toward the mall– clad in two-and-a-half layers of clothing–, with the intent to buy a Christmas present for a bush.

Said bush's name was Izuku Midoriya, one of the famed former students of class 1-A who not only survived multiple villain attacks, but also managed to help get Hitoshi into the hero course. Maybe it wasn't the achievement that he was most recognized for, but it was the one that truly spoke of his sincerity and kindness, in Hitoshi's heart.

...So what if he had a crush? Izuku already obviously had his own on a certain brunette from 2-B, so he knew he didn't have any chance– Having fallen for a straight boy.

As he continued to walk, a bitter taste was left in Shinsou's mouth.

xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Shouto Todoroki

A gentle sigh flitted from between the heterochromatic boy's lips as he laid on the sofa in the commons room, scrolling through a website that he'd found on his phone. As if to loosen the tense feeling that only Shouto seemed to experience, he hummed to himself, searching through lists upon lists of gifts upon gifts.

And still, nothing.

He wanted to find the perfect gift– Something that conveyed his feelings to Izuku without needing to use words; Something unlike anything else that he had ever even seen; Something special and completely unique, made only for him. That was what Shouto wanted to give his classmate; That was what Shouto wanted to give to his favorite person;

That was what Shouto wanted to give to the boy that he loved. While he was aware that his feelings weren't returned, and while he was aware that they never would be, he was going to tell him, come Christmas. And, with their relationship becoming deafeningly awkward, he was going to ruin the holiday for everybody in class 2-A. And he'd run back to his mother, and cry, and hide from the rest of the world until somebody other than Enji would inherit the agency– And then he'd become a hero through that and never have to see the pro hero Deku, again. He could already see it happening.

The boy with bicolored hair blinked before shaking his head, turning to pick his dead phone back into his hands.

As he stood to charge the pocket-sized computer, a solemn, cold feeling spread throughout Todoroki's veins.

25/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Commons room ; Neito Monoma

Neito was somehow of the first up, slipping down the stairs to see a pajama-clad Tooru, Mina, and Denki. The electric blonde was sitting at the table, 'recharging' himself with some oatmeal topped with whipped cream and banana slices– A combination that the former 1-B student saw disgust in. Tooru and Mina, however, were sitting near their bad excuse of a Christmas tree– of course, bless Ibara for growing it for them, but she admitedly could've done much better–, snooping around to see who got the most presents and guessing what said presents were. And Monoma, of course, was going to be the one to put a stop to it.

"Ashido, Hagakure! Don't be so childish as to peek through the presents! While it is to be expected of you 1-A brats, those are saved for later when we're all up together!"

"Omigosh, Monoma, you're starting to sound like Iida–" Ashido's attention was immediately captured by the boy, albeit not for the reason that he'd been looking for. Monoma's frown grew.

"That isn't the point!–"

"Eh?... 'S too early for this..." An all-too-familiar voice complained tiredly, an open yawn sounding from the same direction. "...Why not be Christmasy 'n cheery 'n stuff, instead?" Hitoshi sounded half asleep, as he always was before his usual morning coffee– Bitter and black, as he often described his soul.

A steel-haired boy– having previously gone unnoticed– then gave his hum, sending a sunshine smile from the kitchen to his classmate, "Coffee's on the pot if you need some, Shin!" Tetsutetsu called, being one of the few 2-A students who could easily bear the early hours.

A thin, lazy smile found its way onto Hitoshi's face. "Perfect timing. Thanks."

25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Kitchen ; Momo Yaoyorozu

The bushy-haired boy hobbled downstairs with a yawn, fuzzy sock slipping at the bottom– But, of course, a tall ravenette was there to catch him.

"Good morning, Midoriya." The young woman called softly as she gripped his shoulders, easing him into more of an upright position. She chose not to comment on it, as based on the shorter's expression, the near incident was enough of a wake-up call. "Did you sleep well?"

"Um–" Izuku began as they headed toward the kitchen, still recovering from the split-second panic. "Y-yeah. I was really excited, last night, so I think I went to bed, too late, though..." His voice trailed off into more of a tired mumble, which was always adorable– Sometimes, Momo was convinced that she was surrounded by a litter of cute, rambunctious puppies and not the future's greatest heroes.

"Yes. I think that you're the last one up, actually." She commented matter-of-factly, reaching into a cupboard to retrieve a pouch of caffeinated tea. "Would you like some tea to help wake you up?" She asked before her friend had the chance to feel guilty.

Sometimes, Yaoyorozu very easily read her peers. More than just Izuku knew this, as he nodded with his "Mmhm, thank you."

25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Dorms ; Fumikage Tokoyami

Quite the diverse group was walking through the snow, making the short trek from class 2-B's dorm building to class 2-A's– Said group consisting of an explosive boy, a bubbly brunette, a horned blonde, and a bird-headed boy. Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka were exchanging their comments, as the frenemies often did, while Fumikage Tokoyami and Pony Tsunotori kept to themselves.

That was fine, however, as the trip was short– It wasn't long before a sharp redhead was opening the door, laughing at something that his twin-like friend had said. "Come on in, guys!" Eijirou'd said between chuckles.

Of course, Fumikage gratefully accepted the invite to come in, happy to shed his thick scarf and jacket– Even if he enjoyed the cold, he could only take it to an extent. The crow-like boy made a point to leave his garments on the coat rack, for later, before perching onto one of the arms of a couch.

He only observed, for a time– How Ochako easily found her way toward Momo and Izuku, and how two other boys also seemed to be carefuly regarding the group. How Mina and Denki seemed to momentarily deflate when they'd been told their tape friend was celebrating off-campus. How festive Yuuga looked, with his Rudolph-inspired makeup and fake antlers. How Tooru and Nirengeki seemed to really enjoy decorating Ibara's head.

25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Ochako Uraraka

Eventually, conversations around the sofas seemed to float toward Ochako's distaste with being separated from her previous classmates. "Yeah, I've gotten to know lots of great people in 2-B, but kinda miss sharing class with my friends from last year, y'know?" She'd pointed out, which had lit flares of passion in those such as Katsuki and Eijirou.

"I miss my friends, too." Izuku chimed in, at some point, which seemed to easily halt Ochako and Katsuki's oncoming argument. "But, I think it's just natural that we.. Mm, I don't know how to put it. Expand? But, also, well..." The green-haired boy paused, trying not to spiral into a moment of muttering. "And, we can all still see eachother, after classes." He pointed out with a smile, and that was that.

"Such is the way of life." Fumikage added as somewhat of a word of advice.

Ochako couldn't help but notice how Pony folded her hands in her lap, leaning back into the couch as her blank stare and almost wistful smile faced nobody in particular. "I have no idea what you just said." She commented, which did cause some giggles and snickers to sound around their sort of cirlce– Ochako's sweetly humored one, included.

25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Eijirou Kirishima

Everybody who said they'd attend the gathering seemed to be there, and most importantly, everybody seemed to have relaxed. The faux-redhead gave a shark-toothed grin as he carefully slid a headband onto a blonde's head– Of course, as soon as said blonde felt it, his hand lifted for a deathgrip around Eijirou's wrist.

He was glad that his quirk easily resisted his friend.

"Can you guess which reindeer you are?" He gave suppressed giggles as Katsuki's grip lightened, hand soon dropping into his lap. It was nice that the explosive boy's temper seemed to have lengthened– Even if only somewhat, at least something had definitely changed between his first argument with Tenya, and now.

Katsuki shifted slightly, his expression more of a neutral sort of grumpy. "Rudolph?" He guessed the obvious one, an eyebrow raised.

"Nope! I'm pretty sure Aoyama's got that covered, haha."

"...None of the other names are important." The blonde mumbled lowly, head leaned back to ensure only the boy behind him heard that. It was his way of admitting that he had no clue what the other reindeer's names were.

"Blitzen–" Kirishima couldn't help bursting into laughter, and admittedly, a small smile did tug at Katsuki's lips. "Because– Y'know–" He tried to speak between laughs, as he imitated the sound of an explosion.

25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The kitchen ; Rikido Satou

"Hey– Where are Midoriya and Todoroki?" Rikido asked, just about finished with handing out his festive sugar cookies– Only a little candycane and bushel of holly were left. He set his tray onto the counter as he glanced around the kitchen, no Izuku nor Shouto in sight.

"I saw them head for the elevators," Ochako chimed in, finding her seat atop the corner of the table. "Maybe Deku's giving Todoroki another present? Or– Y'know, the other way around?"

It made sense– Not long after the bushy-haired shounen protagonist had woken up, the group took their turns around the tree to hand out gifts. While they both received their abundance of presents, it'd seemed Shouto was still somewhat anticipatory, an emotion unlike his usually stoic self. Though the brunette gave a shrug, deciding to dismiss that detail, for the time being.

"Oh, well– Todoroki can reheat them, when he gets back, if they're cold by then."

25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The hall ; Mina Ashido

She didn't mean to eavesdrop, she swore to herself– She'd only been headed to the bathroom, when she'd overheard Izuku mentioning something about how much he loved something. And Mina, being the occasionally less-than-polite person that she was, couldn't help but to stick around, pressing her back to the wall and listening to two boys, around the corner.

"I'm glad– I wanted to make sure that my gift for you was special." She could tell that that was the deeper voice of Shouto, albeit uncharacteristically warm. And maybe Mina was somewhat upset that she didn't have the chance to know whatever the supposed special gift was, but she wasn't going to risk compromising her position in what sounded like a private moment.

"Well, thank you, Todoroki. I... I really appreciate you, y'know."

"And I–" Shouto cut himself off, though, and the pink girl physically recoiled as she realized that now was the moment that he'd finally be attempting a confession. She may not have been the most academically exemplary girl, but she'd been damned if she hadn't noticed every fleeting touch, every shy glance, every missed opportunity that her peppermint peer had suffered through.

She decided to walk away, though, keeping quiet as not to alert the boys. Part of her felt guilty, feeling as if she'd tainted the secrecy of the special interaction.

But as she stepped away, she did catch a quieter, forlorn phrase. "...You're my best friend, Izuku."

30/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Dorm room ; Kyouka Jirou

"The original is a lot less shitty." A certain Katsuki Bakugou commented gruffly, as the plumette experimented with her playlist. At current, she was playing some song called 'Hey There Delilah,' albeit sung in the Japanese that she knew, as opposed to its originally English version.

Kyouka raised a brow, ony briefly letting her attention flit toward the other. "Sure, but none of us can really understand the lyrics." She spoke nonchalantly, pushing herself up to fiddle with one of the speakers that Momo had previously helped her set up.

Katsuki gave his little "Tch," as he turned away, mentioning something about how he had no problem understanding English. And knowing the overachiever, that was likely true, she figured as he left the conversation.

This year, part of class 2-A– and even some 2-B students– had decided that they would be staying at the dorms for the New Year, watching whatever festivities and celebrating behind the safety of their tv. As such, Kyouka, Momo, and an unexpected Katsuki had banded together in lieu of decking out the Heights Alliance, for the upcoming holiday.

They mostly spent time cleaning and setting up a dorm sound system, but if all went well, every second of effort was going to be worth it.

31/12/xxx ; Shortly before midnight ; The commons room ; Izuku Midoriya

His peers had really done well with decorating, Izuku acknowledged for the umpteenth time as he chose his spot beside Ochako. Admittedly, he's been set on confessing for a while now, but never quite found the courage to voice his feelings.

But that was okay, as he gently tapped the brunette on the shoulder– Her cheeks grew rosier than usual when she noticed his outstretched hand, taking it after only a second of overthinking.

Maybe he didn't need words, after all, because he already had a passion in his heart and what seemed to be reciprocated feelings. Their fingers intertwined as the television flashed, counting down to a moment that both anticipated dearly. And Izuku couldn't stifle his shy grin, watching tentatively as Ochako's attention flitted between his face and the brightly-colored screen.

Neither had to say anything. Not now. Not until the rest of the small group cheered "Zero!", and not until they shared a wonderfully perfect kiss.

01/01/xxxx ; Shortly after midnight ; The roof ; Hitoshi Shinsou & Shouto Todoroki

After that, Hitoshi found himself fleeing the scene. Of course, he knew that it was inevitable, but that didn't stop him from hurting as much as he did. He rode the elevator and then climbed the stairs, stopping only once he stood atop the roof.

Shouto couldn't help but trail the plumette up to the top of the building, masking his similar need to escape with curiosity and concern. Considering they were heroes-in-training, it had been unusually easy to do so, to slip out of the room and follow him. Almost concerningly so, as the bicolored boy paused to eye the other's silhouette– To anticipate his next move.

Now, he wasn't stupid. He knew that much as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the roof's railing. Hitoshi glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge the other's presence, sending a silent invitation to join him. With the way that he strode beside him, it was apparent that the youngest Todoroki was reluctant.

But neither had to say anything, for a long time. They simply stood beside one another, gazes focused on the moon or the sky or the city below them. Or maybe even one another. Shouto found comfort in this moment, but he did eventually break away, wanting to allow the plumette to mourn in peace.

But as the other turned, Shinsou reached and gently gripped his forearm. "Hey," his voice was smooth and gentle enough to coax Shouto back, to make him want to return to that moment. And he did, standing closer to his peer, now.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #fanfic #rarepair #kiribaku #izuocha #shintodo #christmas #new year #ish original #ish writes #ish bnha #ish top

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iffyswriting · 5 years

Text

Neighbors (Jay Park)

Paring: Jay Park x Black!OC

Genre: Smut, just straight up smut.

Summary: There are ways to compromise with an annoying neighbor.

Word Count: 2064

Note: This is my first imagine on this account, yay!

Waking up out of her sleep, there were loud bumps on the other side of Tiana's wall. Groggily, rubbing the sleep that creased her eyes her initial confusion soon turned into anger when the noise continued, the banging hurting her ears.

She threw her head back onto her pillow, pushing the sides to her ears hoping they would drown it out but to no use. Tiana got out of bed grumbling with irritation as she slid her feet into her slippers, throwing her loose silk robe over her body.

With her hand in a tight fist, she knocked on the door of the offender. Tapping her feet annoyance as the minutes passed, finally the door opened and an attractive man covered in sweat and tattoos, leaned against the frame, his boxers clearly looking hastily thrown on as they hung from his waist, leaving little to no imagination.

"Can I help you?" He licked his plump lips as he spoke and Tiana tried her hardest not to eye his body. She had come there for business and she would state her problem with enough dignity to not let her eyes wander.

"You can actually. You realize it's 2:00 at night and some of us have fucking work in the morning. It'd be appreciated if you could keep it down." Tiana barked heading straight for the point, her arms crossed over her perky bosom.

"I can try and do that but I won't make any promises," Jay responded shrugging his shoulders in such a nonchalant way Tiana was tempted to punch him. She didn't dare look him in his eyes and since she couldn't look upward her only option was the opposite direction, which resulted in her seeing some very interesting developments. "Hey uh, I know I'm cute or whatever but don't think you should keep up eye contact when you're having a conversation with someone?" His tone was teasing and smug, Tiana's fists clenching as the words rolled off his tongue.

"Yeah, well I'll try not to let the landlord know about you being so inconsiderate. Fucking prick." Tiana spoke her ears beginning to burn. Didn't she just say she wouldn't let her eyes wander? She never ever could keep her word. Finishing her piece, she flipped him off and slammed her door behind her fuming slightly.

Things didn't get much better between the neighbors. Jay persisted in the constant noise making and Tia made it known that she wasn't here for it, often slamming her fist on his door or catching him in the morning to work to personally curse him out. Her threats to tell the landlord seemed empty and she would never ever admit that sometimes she wished she was in his bed causing all the noise. Every once and a while Jay would chill out, trying to show he wanted to make amends with Tiana but the girl flipped his endeavors right back in his face constantly reminding him of before.

The two communicated with petty insults and minor arguing, other tenants calling them the married couple who lived in separate rooms. They'd both scoff at the nickname, stating that "I couldn't be with someone so whorish." "I couldn't be with someone so stuck-up." More arguments would come from their mean words and the arguments would constantly be thick with tension.

"Aw, do you miss me so much you have to follow me everywhere? I'm flattered but I'd prefer if I could get just a little breathing room to wash my clothes." Jay spoke strolling into the laundry room, where Tiana happened to be.

"You actually do your own laundry? At least you aren't an incompetent asshole." Tiana offered him a fake smile, unamusing to Jay.

"I do more than just my laundry." He spoke with a wink.

"I'm sorry, but if you're insinuating what I think you are, I'm not interested in a guy who's constantly literally and figuratively drowning his sorrows in pussy," Tiana confessed with a sarcastically sweet shrug taking satisfaction in the twisted up face, Jay made.

"Ohhh that's clever, you got any more insults other then me being a slut?" His stupid smirk never left his face, it's presence agitating even more.

"I mean." Tiana sounded out, slowly seeing that she had to get to his level of comprehension.

"Tia-” He started off, Tiana raising one of her hands to automatically cut him off.

"Don't call me Tia." Tiana responded with an irritated scoff, stuffing her clothes into the washing machine.

"Like I said, Tia-" He repeated once more, Tiana slamming down the top of the washing machine as she whipped towards Jay with an agitated glare.

“All of this disrespect you keep throwing my way, I don’t take lightly so you need to find some fucking chill.”

“You can talk to me in any way you want and treat me like shit but you can’t take it back?”

“I’ve only given you the energy you’ve given me, stop acting surprised.”

“Your hypocrisy is barking in volumes!" Jay answered with a humorless laugh, putting his basket on the floor.

“Hypocrisy!? I feel like the pot is calling the kettle black right now." Tia argued in return her back facing Jay as she turned the button to warm on the washing machine.

"So you know what you’re doing is wrong but you keep doing it?" Jay asked stepping closer to her making Tia lean against the machine for support.

"Huh?" Tia choked out.

"Don't fucking huh me. I'm sick of your mouth, I try and bring the noise down be cordial but you stay on my fucking neck, continuing to be fucking rude. What do you want me to fuck you or something?" His rant ended and Tiana's mouth had drawn closed into a line unable to answer his claims.

That dangerous smirk replaced the frown on his face, his eyes becoming hooded with lust as he looked down at her, boring into her dark brown eyes. Gulping Tiana, pulled up her t-shirt using it as a makeshift fan, reveling in how hot everything was beginning to feel all of a sudden, how claustrophobic she felt.

Inching towards the woman with a new objective in mind Jay tilted her head upward in a swift motion, Tiana taking the hint, immediately smashing her lips into his her hands twisting themselves in the confines of his white tank top.

As things began to escalate, the tension growing in the room, Jay roughly pushed Tiana into the cool metal making her gently gasp into his mouth. Her free hand, that wasn't resting on the back of his neck, slithered down to his jeans rubbing the fabric teasingly. His fingers pressed hard on her hips, easily plopping her on top of the washing machine

"Is this going to make you lose that fucking attitude?" He grunted, snatching at her black leggings tugging them down roughly. With ease, he picked her up and plopped her on top of the tool, his fingers would only brush the front of her panties, going no further than a boundary he set.

"Let's see how well you impress me. Then I’ll think about it." Feeling bold- Tiana, caressed the bulge in his shorts, looking him straight into his eyes. His fingers hooked onto her panties, slipping them off with ease.

Every time he teasingly touched her throbbing clit, her body would shiver and she would attempt to buck back into him hoping a finger or some sort would slip in her efforts futile as she was left provoked with no relief in the end.

“If you’re just going to tease me I might as well get the fu-” She was interrupted from finishing as two thick fingers plunged deep inside of her. She mugged at him and his amused smirk, her frown opening into a large moan as he twisted the fingers inside of her, finger fucking her fast. Before she came, Tiana pulled his fingers out of her, they were dripping with her essence.

“You forget whose pace we’re going at.” She stated simply out of breath, the rush of euphoria on the tip of her tongue.

Tia smacked his hand away from finishing, unbuttoning his pants. She slithered her hand inside of his boxers, rubbing at his erection. Her thumb swiped over his pink tip, his shallow breath pleasing her.

She brought her hand up and down at a rapid unforgiving pace, jacking him off with a devious look. Dribblets of his cum flew onto her hand, his groans trailing into her ear.

They collectively moaned together as he slipped in, Tiana wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck to actively bring him in closer. She caught his lips, immediately slipping her tongue in as he moved forward.

His thrusts were filled with passion as all the pent-up frustration he had for the girl was taken out on her pussy. Jay fucked her roughly, slamming her against the washing machine with force.

“If we’re going to fuck on a washing machine, let’s make it fun.” The first wash cycle was turned on as the machine began to vibrate, causing jolts to flow through both of them

He flipped her body over pressing her into the washing machine as they began to fuck Doggystyle, unknowingly denting in the machinery.

Tiana’s chest heaved up and down as she met him each time he pounded into her, throwing her ass back. He stopped for a moment letting his entire length sit inside of her before sliding out and ramming back into her rocking her forward.

"Oh fuckkkk-" Tiana moaned out, crossing her ankles together as her thighs slapped into the cold metal, Jay's relentless strokes digging her out in the most pleasurable way. Tiana rested her head on the top of washing-machine trying to muffle the whimpers that echoed from her mouth. Jay's hand wrapped around her throat pulling her backward so the whimper she released could be heard clearly.

"No, I want to hear from you. This is loud enough right?" He growled into her ear slamming into her with such precision, Tia's soul was close to escaping her body. He kissed the side of her face, a groan seeping out of him as his dick twitched inside her walls.

“Oh Daddy, I’m about to cum!” She whimpered, her walls clenching and releasing around him as the pressure in her stomach built up, the neverending pleasure overwhelming.

Tiana tried to move away from Jay as her orgasm soared through her body but he pulled her back, she tightened her walls milking him well. Tiana purred as she came, the sweat that had formed on her brow slipping towards her breast.

His strokes became increasingly sloppy, as Tia helped him meet his own end grinding slower on his dick, popping her butt as she maneuvered, Jay let out a throaty moan.

Tiana slipped off of him getting straight on her knees. She held his manhood in her hand, jerking it a bit as his cum splattered across her face, staining the top of her sports bra. She gave a devilishly satisfied smile, his nut dripping down her lip, as she stuck out her tongue to give it a taste.

“You owe me some washing powder.” She said jokingly, licking her lips of his kids.

After what happened in the laundry room, things changed. Noise no longer came from Jay's room anymore and with no reason to keep fussing nor a reason to talk to him, Tiana could only look from afar too afraid to speak.

"We ever gonna talk about- what we did?" Jay finally asked, breaking the game of avoiding they had been playing.

“Is there anything really to talk about?” Tiana replied, unable to look at him in the eye. He took her hand into his own, shrugging his shoulders as he began to speak.

“I just thought we could-” “Hi, Mrs. Garrison!" Tiana spoke to their elderly neighbor, interrupting Jay from finishing. She wasn't sure where he was going with his words, and fear etched into her heart, nervous about what he would say.

"Hello, baby!" The sweet woman responded before turning towards Tiana."I just wanted to mention that you shouldn't use the washing machine for a while. Someone dented the damn thing in and it's been working funny ever since. I'm guessing it was that delinquent Rodney who did it but Jermaine's cheap-ass ain't gonna find the culprit."

“Is that so?” Tiana glanced at Jay, who had a soft blush on his cheeks. Looking at each other knowingly, they snickered quietly to themselves an inside joke being born.

#jay park smut #jay park #smut #khiphop #ambw #thebabymama

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