#phew! ok. these are the last ones | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vincess-princess · 2 years

Text

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 5

Word count: 6894 Warnings: rape attempt, description of a panic attack A\N: fun fact! originally the word punk meant “female prostitute”, then evolved to mean “a boy or young man kept by a much older man for sexual purposes”. do what you will with that information.

“Rise and shine!” Mick’s voice pulled Vince out of his hazy slumber. He didn’t get a decent sleep this night, falling in and out of consciousness, jerking awake at every sound then lying in darkness listening to his heart race until the fatigue overtook the anxiety, and then repeat, repeat, repeat. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep, his entire body hurt like he’d been badly beaten up yesterday. Oh wait, he kind of was, he recalled.

“Wake up, princess. Sorry, there’s no servants to help you get dressed. Not that you need it anyway,” Mick prodded Vince in the side with his foot. Weren’t Vince so tired, he would have made a fuss about this, but now it felt too hard an effort. At least it wasn’t a kick.

His throat was parched, his mouth tasted bitter. He sat up and groaned as his body strained up with the movement, his bruises beginning to ache. When he rose to his feet, his legs were so wobbly he had to grab onto a wall. There were no clean mugs in the kitchen – he wasn’t in the condition to wash the dishes the night before - so he grabbed a dirty one from the tub and poured himself some beer from the barrel.

“Your second day here, and you’re already drinking first thing in the morning?” Mick laughed.

“I had a bad day yesterday,” Vince murmured, downing the beer in three big gulps. He didn’t even stop to think whose dirty mouth had been drinking from this one the night before. His shirt dried up during the night together with all the blood on it, and the fabric now stuck to his skin where the cuts and slashes were. He tried to tear it off, but tugging at them hurt. Oh, and it also stunk like hell, the sweetish smell of rotting blood filling his nostrils and blocking all other smells. His empty stomach spasmed, sending bile up his throat to his mouth. Vince swallowed it and poured himself a second mug of beer.

Damn, he sure was no cleaner than any of the pirates on the ship, if not worse, he thought with resignation, downing this one to wash away the taste of bile.

“Can I take a bath somewhere here?” he asked just in case, fully prepared for a rejection. And reject him Mick did.

“Sorry, Your Highness, this ship does not provide such services,” Mick mocked him light-heartedly. “We simple folk drink fresh water rather than wallow in it. But-“ he looked over Vince critically, “you do look and smell like shit. You gotta wash up and change, I don’t want you to contaminate the food. I think I’ve got a spare shirt somewhere…” he pulled a small chest from under his bed and began fumbling in it. “You can wash up once we arrive at Port Royal – it’s tonight, you’ll manage until then.” Then he pulled a piece of clothing out of his chest and unfolded it.

“Oh, now I remember why I don’t wear this shirt anymore,” he said thoughtfully. Brown and black spots of different forms and sizes littered its front, with holes on the elbows and a sloppily mended tear across the chest. “Right, the hassle we had with Metallicos… that was one hell of a fight. A little bit too worn for Your Highness’s taste, maybe, but at least it’s clean.” Mick threw the shirt in Vince’s direction. Vince reached out to catch it, and his body didn’t like the abrupt movement at all.

“Thanks,” he murmured through gritted teeth, closed his eyes and pulled at the ragged remains of his shirt with an effort, tearing the fabric away from the wounds. Then he dragged it over his head and dropped it on the floor, putting on Mick’s shirt instead. This one at least wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

Then again there were dishes. Vince tried hard not to pay too much attention to the porridge boiling on the stove, but it didn’t really work – his hands were trembling and his stomach kept spasming painfully as the smell tickled his nostrils. He had never been so hungry before. The beer on an empty stomach only made his hands shakier and his vision blurrier, its taste soon turning bitter in Vince’s mouth.

When he dropped a plate for the third time – thankfully, it didn’t crack, but its rattle echoed across the galley – Mick let out an exasperated sigh.

“You ain’t got a penny to your name now. Stop dropping my plates if you don’t wanna pay for them with another meal.”

“I’m trying,” Vince exhaled, despondent. He seemed to have entered a vicious cycle: the longer he went without food, the more likely he was to break something.

“Try harder,” Mick said harshly, but when Vince turned towards the tub again, his head low, he heard the knocking of a plate against a counter, and then – the clinking of a ladle against the pot.

“You ain’t supposed to eat before the captain and the gunners, but I’m making an exception for today. You tell anyone, I’ll make you eat your own shit for the rest of your short and miserable life,” Mick said, putting the plate down onto the counter with a bang.

Vince raised his head and looked at him, oily water dripping from his fingers.

Next second, he was already by the counter, wiping his fingers on his shirt. The porridge was made on water and without any butter, but he realized that later – now he was gobbling up the hot substance and not even noticing how it burned his mouth and throat. The meal was not fancy to say the least, and even a chimney sweeper at the Wharton villa ate better food, but it was hot and filling. Sadly, it was all gone too soon, but at least the emptiness in his stomach was gone too.

Mick’s knife was tapping at the cutting board in the other corner of the galley, so Mick definitely wasn’t looking in Vince’s direction, but Vince knew he watched him with well-disguised satisfaction.

Vince dropped the empty plate in the tub and said, “Thanks,” staring at the wall.

“Now don’t you drop another plate again,” Mick grumbled, his tapping fiercer.

***

It was a foggy morning, and his ship following The Shout was almost completely hidden in it. Vince’s heart skipped a bit when he looked in that direction. He could only see a silhouette of her in the white, milky fog; but from what he saw, the deck looked deserted. Apparently, the pirates didn’t bother much in guarding the prisoners. On the other hand, what could the remains of his crew do, chained and starving in the hold?

“This shit’s tastier than usual,” the curly-haired pirate that escorted him to the captain’s cabin yesterday said, poking at the porridge. “Even edible, y’know.” Others murmured in agreement.

“You don’t like the food, Slash, you don’t eat it,” Mick responded sharply. Slash? That couldn’t be his real name. A nickname, then? “Unless you can cook better, keep it shut.”

“Hey, man, I ain’t saying anything!” Slash raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. Mick was far from being the most intimidating person on this ship, but he was certainly respected. “I even said it’s better, what’s your problem?”

“Mind your words, punk,” Mick didn’t relent, turning away from Slash to indicate that the conversation was over. Vince expected Slash to get offended – he certainly would if he got called that – but Slash just shrugged and returned back to his porridge. No one around him seemed to mind the insult either.

“No, for real, Mick, what’s in it? It tastes heavenly, and I’d never think I’d say this about oatmeal,” the tall blonde, Duff, chipped in. “Kinda reminds me of honey. I had it once when I was little. Nothing beats it.”

“Pretty close,” Mick said after a pause. “Sugar.”

“What’s that?” Duff asked, leaving Vince dumbfounded. Sure, sugar wasn’t a staple in a regular man’s diet, but how come he’d never even heard of that? He squinted at Duff, waiting for him to burst into laughter, but his expression remained surprised for too long to be fake. He wasn’t joking.

“You don’t know?” he couldn’t hold back a question, and everyone turned towards him, making him the center of unwelcome attention. He suppressed the desire to hide in the hold, away from their curious gazes.

“Well, we are simple folk. Surely Your Highness’s diet has been more varied than ours,” Duff smirked. “Is that some kind of a spice?”

“Well,” Vince kept searching for a taunt behind his words that everyone else but him could hear but found nothing - or it was too well-disguised. “Kind of. It’s sweet like honey, but looks like salt – white and grainy. At… home,” he swallowed a lump in his throat, “we had it in desserts. Expensive stuff, but delicious. It’s shipped from overseas. From Americas.”

“Yeah, your friends are gonna get pretty familiar to it soon,” Mick said with a one-sided grin. “But you’re lucky, so it’s probably the last time you taste it. Enjoy yourself.”

Oh, right. Vince forgot about the plantations. Theoretically, he had known before those weren’t paid workers that harvested sugar for his father’s company to sell. But he never spared them even a second of his thoughts, neither of their hands callousing nor of their backs burning under the sun. He could almost hear the whip whizzing in the air, leaving red striped on their skin. He shuddered.

“Look, he ain’t too happy about that,” Slash’s laugh pulled Vince out of his thoughts. “You sure we want to keep him?”

“It’s up to the captain to decide, not you,” another voice answered him from behind Vince’s back. A chill ran down his spine. Tommy. “Captain is up and pissed about not getting his breakfast,” he told Mick, his gaze sliding past Vince like he wasn’t there. “Send the errand boy over to him.”

Vince froze in his place, blood flushing away from his face, his heart sinking. Tommy didn’t say his name, didn’t even look at him directly, but he said errand boy, and who else could it be but him, now the lowest rank on this goddamn ship? Send the errand boy over to him… It meant seeing Nikki again, now, so soon after their first meeting. And Vince didn’t want to see or even hear him ever again, scared of the outburst of emotions his mere presence could elicit from him. He, Vince Neil Wharton, a grown man of noble heritage, who could count on the fingers of one hand the times he cried in his life, was now on the verge of tears because of a dirty pirate, in front of the entire crew of thugs and cutthroats. Losing control and exposing himself in such circumstances was more than he could bear.

Mick looked at him quickly and rose himself. “He doesn’t know Nikki’s fancies.”

“Well, he gotta learn in some way.” Tommy put his hand on Mick’s shoulder, holding him in place. “We took him in to ease your load. Relax, man. Drink a beer, smoke a cig, enjoy the dawn.” He patted Mick on the back.

“The captain could also climb down from his high horse and have breakfast with his men for once,” Mick said in response, his eyes flickering between Tommy and Vince. He was unsure, hesitating, and it was like watching the only wall between Vince and Nikki crumble. The rest of the crew, fascinated by this exchange, looked back and forth from Mick to Vince as if they were watching a ball thrown between two kids.

“He spends enough time with his men to take some of his scarce free time for himself,” Tommy retorted, unfazed. “And you’re an old man with a bad back. Spare yourself all the walking.”

“I may be old, but I still can fuck you up,” Mick’s mouth creased in indignation. “And I can carry a damn tray from the galley to his cabin with no trouble.”

“We know, man, we know,” Tommy said soothingly. “We cherish you dearly. Which is why I insist that you don’t bother with that.” He pressed down on Mick’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down. Mick sent Vince a quick glance – I tried, his eyes spoke, - and turned away, slumping in his seat. Vince’s last beacon of hope dissolved like the sunlight would fade for a drowning man - with every inhale his lungs filled with more cold water and his body sank deeper and deeper into the dark, hopeless abyss.

“Hey, blondie! Whatcha waiting for? I know you heard me!” Tommy stepped towards him, his voice nonchalant, but his fixed stare riveted Vince to his place, rendered him paralyzed. He later recalled with shame how he shrank his head into his shoulders and clenched the wooden plank of the bench he was sitting on so hard his knuckles went white.

“Don’t you fucking make a scene,” Tommy hissed when his fingers closed on Vince’s forearm, and there was so much undisguised threat in his voice that Vince did what he was told and let Tommy pull him up and away from the rest of the crew towards the hatch to the galley. He could feel their gazes burning holes in his back. Of course, they all knew what was going to happen. Maybe even anticipated it – except Mick.

Once in the galley, Tommy pushed Vince inside and slammed the door shut. He was so tall he barely fit in there, having to duck when going through the door.

“Throw together a meal,” he ordered, waving at the half-empty pot. “Make it fancy. He’s a devil when hungry. There was some white bread left. Don’t forget the beer.”

Vince obliged, his body going through the motions his brain barely registered. It was too busy thrashing about inside his skull in panic so intense Vince had to remind himself to breathe. His entire body still hurt, and the ache between his legs hadn’t subdued in a slightest over the night. He could not go through something like this again, not so soon- no, not ever.

As he staggered past Tommy to the pot with a plate in hand, his hand landed on Vince’s shoulder, holding him in place. Vince stopped dead in his tracks, avoiding his intent gaze – he knew he didn’t have enough self-control to remain calm while looking Tommy in the face. He wasn’t the one to violate him, but he facilitated that. After all, he was the one to hold a knife against his throat, and he enjoyed it.

“Now listen to me,” he told Vince quietly. “If you wanna get outta that unharmed, you gotta shove your pride deeper into your ass than Nikki can reach. The more you defy him, the more you try to fight, the heavier he will strike back. He gets off of your flimsy attempts at self-defense – he’s a freak like that. You wanna get out of this with minimal damage – just submit.”

Vince stared at him, the words taking several seconds to settle in his brain.

“You suggest I just spread my legs in front of him?”

“Oh damn.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “I dunno if you noticed, but nobody here cares about honor, or pride, or whatever the fuck else you moneybags fuss over so much. You get by with what you have, which is usually nothing. When I was little, I dug out food scraps from the dumps behind the fancy restaurants your kind frequents. If I had been as picky as you, I wouldn’t stand in front of you now. Get off the clouds and down to earth and think reasonably, for fuck’s sake.”

“How can you compare food scraps with that-“

“Yeah, you know, actually you’re right, I shouldn’t compare them.” Tommy interrupted him, and as he spoke further, every word felt like a whip on Vince’s skin. “My life was at stake back then. Eat shit or die. You are still fed and have a roof over your head. Don’t you dare complain about a sore ass or a couple of bruises. That’s small a price to pay for the mercy we showed you.” He shoved the tray into Vince’s weakened hands and pushed him towards the exit. “You can listen to me, or you can get your ass kicked so hard you will shit blood for the next two weeks. Up to you what to choose,” Tommy said harshly, kicking the ground from under Vince’s feet in all senses but physical. Not giving him time to take it all in, he dragged him back to the deck, not paying attention to the tray shaking and the porridge in the bowl swerving dangerously close to the rim.

Vince didn’t remember crossing the two ships and the shaky plank between them. It seemed he blinked once and the door of the captain’s cabin materialized in front of him. Tommy gave him a last exasperated look, knocked on the door and turned away to leave.

“Wait-“ Vince began, even Tommy seeming good enough of an ally now. But Tommy strolled away without even sparing him a look.

The lock in the door clicked, the doorknob turning painfully slow.

Nikki was disheveled, as if he just woke up, and wore only pants, unbuttoned ones at that. Just now Vince noticed an intricate tattoo covering his entire right arm and spilling onto the right side of his chest. For a second, he was enthralled by it – his eyes could get lost in this labyrinth of lines and shapes.

Then Nikki spoke, and the feeling disappeared.

“Look who’s here,” he said, grinning and leaning against the doorframe. “Here to serve your master?”

Vince pressed his lips together to not let a witty comeback seep through them and pushed the tray against Nikki’s chest, but the captain didn’t take it, forcing him to hold it on stretched-out arms. Of course, there was little hope that would work but losing even that little bit hurt.

The slap on the cheek following it wasn’t at all surprising. Predictable, even. Vince exhaled slowly, persuading himself not to land the tray on Nikki’s head like he did with Tommy last night. The consequences would be much harsher.

“You seem to have forgotten over the night the manners I taught you yesterday,” Nikki said sharply. “Maybe I should have kept you here to drive them in properly? Maybe I should still do it – this night, for example?”

He tilted his head to the side, his gaze chilling Vince to the bones.

After several seconds of tense silence, Vince couldn’t hold on any longer.

“No,” he said through his teeth. “No need.”

“I’m not convinced,” Nikki raised his eyebrow. “You gotta show me. Now, take that in and put on the table. I expect you to serve me during breakfast.”

Vince almost staggered back, appalled. Cooking, washing the dishes – such work, though lowly and dirty, he could endure, on condition that it was under Mick’s command; but serving this outlaw, this butcher, this-

“Wow, wow, what’s that look?” Nikki mocked, hooking his finger under Vince’s chin and pushing it up. Vince shook his head to get rid of it. Nikki grinned, but his hand just gripped Vince’s jaw tighter. “Are you trying to burn a hole in me with your eyes?”

Vince forced himself to avert his gaze, realizing just how much Nikki reveled in his hate. Why was it so enjoyable for him to provoke Vince’s hate – why would anyone even wish to be on a receiving end of such a negative emotion?

“No,” he said, looking somewhere above Nikki’s shoulder. “Although your body does lack some more holes, especially artificially made.”

Nikki’s eyebrows flew up as Vince slowly realized what he had just said. He outright wished the captain to get shot. Right in his hungover face.

He involuntarily pushed the tray forward to create some sort of a barrier between him and Nikki. Not that it would stop him or help Vince in any other way – just make a loud crash, maybe, when Nikki would undoubtedly try to snap his neck or kick out a couple of his teeth.

Instead, Nikki stood there, his eyes narrowed, not a muscle on his face changing. Vince even began wondering if he had heard him. Maybe he should repeat? To drive it home, to say so?

Nikki’s hand holding Vince’s jaw unclenched. He slowly lowered his arm.

“Come in and put the tray on the table,” he said calmly, too calmly to be true. Vince frowned, examining Nikki’s face, trying to decipher an emotion behind it, but got nothing: it was as expressive as a brick wall.

“You’re in my way,” Vince reminded him. Nikki huffed, but moved away from the doorframe and into the cabin.

The cabin changed so much overnight Vince’s heart shrank. It was still recognizable, but a mess that the previous owner wouldn’t have allowed already desecrated it. The bed was unmade, the sheets were crumpled, seemingly still in the shape of Vince’s body. A pair of worn, dirty boots lay right in the middle of the room, accompanied by a heap of dirty clothes. Beer mugs, plates with chicken bones and bottles lying on their sides, some with liquid still dripping from them, littered the table. The air reeked of beer, and so did Nikki. Judging by his slightly too upright posture and his tight grip on the doorframe, he’d already had at least one bottle in the morning.

“What a mess,” Vince murmured, wrinkling his nose.

“Don’t like it?” Nikki smiled widely, baring his teeth. “Good news – it’s gonna be your duty from now on. So that you don’t stay idle in those pleasant after-breakfast hours.”

What, does he want him to also clean up after him? Touch all this filth with his own hands? Wash his clothes, so saturated with smell of alcohol and sweat it would leave oily traces on his hands, his underwear too?

Oh God, he’d rather die.

Vince tossed the tray onto the table, knocking one of the bottles onto the floor with it. It rolled away, clinking, leaving a trail of drops behind it. The porridge almost splashed out again. Alright, he did what he was told. Now he could just leave-

Vince turned around and collided with Nikki’s body. He couldn’t hold back a yelp, half-surprised, half-terrified – Sixx moved good several feet forward without making a sound while he was putting the tray on the table and was now standing right behind him, their bodies mere inches away.

Vince pressed his arms against Nikki’s chest, trying to establish a barrier between their bodies as panic rose in his chest. Then he attempted to squirm out of the position and flee, but a promptly shoved forward knee didn’t let him do it.

Maybe Nikki did take offense for Vince wishing him to die.

“Not so fast.” Nikki grinned, his hand grasping Vince’s forearm tightly, securing him in place. “You’re not done here.”

“I’m not gonna-“ Vince began. Panic was bubbling inside him like water in a kettle, but the rage at the smugness of Nikki’s grin overpowered it – just for a second, though. Nikki’s heavy palm on his mouth turned the rest of his objection into unintelligible mumbling.

“I’m in a good mood today, so I’m gonna give you one more chance,” Nikki said almost softly, brushing his fingers on Vince’s cheek. The touch could even be called tender if not for the cold rage in Nikki’s eyes. “What’d you wanna say?”

He moved away his palm, but his hand kept holding Vince in place firmly.

“I’m- I’m not-“ Vince stammered, trying not to wince in pain – the shoulder Nikki was squeezing was the injured one. A staunch refusal was hanging on the tip of his tongue but Vince hesitated to release it, remembering very well what Tommy told him. Don’t talk back. He enjoys it.

“Not – what?” Nikki pressed on as Vince fell silent, unsure what to say. Was he to keep up his initial attitude, he would surely do a brave thing – he would stand up for himself instead of surrendering to the events of the last night. It would be stupid, of course, but brave, honorable even. Would it be honorable to get beaten and raped again – that was another question. For all its worth, honor was obviously not the most valuable quality on this ship, and when in Rome, do as Romans do, they say. If he- if he just didn’t resist- what would happen then?

Vince’s breath was shaky, his chest went up and down in sharp, jerky movements. He pressed his lips together tightly so that no unwelcome sound could escape past them.

No. No, that wasn’t right. There was no better choice here – for him, at least. Whatever he chose, Nikki would find a way to hurt him, in one way or another, physically or mentally, just because that was what he wanted. Vince was at a loss in this twisted game from the very beginning – having no other cards to play with but himself.

Himself.

Himself, you say?

“Well?” Nikki attracted his attention with a light shove in the crotch. “I’m waiting for an answer. And my patience is running thin.”

Vince inhaled deeply and unclenched his fists in an attempt to relax. Ultimately, he failed, tension unwilling to go away with Nikki’s body pressed so close to his, but it didn’t go unnoticed – Nikki frowned slightly, bewildered by the change, but not angry or irritated. Well, that was progress.

Vince swallowed a lump in his throat and spoke. He had to push the words out one by one, so heavy and sticky they felt on his tongue.

“I will let you do what you want… on one condition.”

Nikki looked at him like one would look at an exotic insect.

“Really?” his grip tightened, and Vince flinched – his voice had a predatory undertone to it, as if Nikki was a curious scientist looking for additions to his bug collection. “You’re not really in a position to bargain here, princess.”

That word again, hurtful like a whip to skin. Did they all collectively decide to label him woman-like just to humiliate him?

“I’m not asking for much,” Vince replied, voice just on the edge of trembling. Don’t break now, don’t break now-

“Come on! What’s that?” Nikki groaned impatiently. But he didn’t try to get his own way – he kept listening. That was a good sign. Probably.

“Just…” Vince lowered his gaze in what he hoped to be a seductive manner, frantically recalling all those maids he flirted with. Batting his eyelashes felt a little too overboard, but, judging by how sharply Nikki inhaled, hit just the right spot. “Just… ask nicely.”

Nikki looked at him like that scientist would if the insect had just asked him for a smoke.

“Really?” was the only thing he said, his eyebrows arching.

Vince didn’t reply, afraid of his voice breaking. He felt as if he had just been dragged through dirt. Just mastering the flirtatious tone took all the remains of stamina he had.

But it seemed to work, because Nikki released his shoulder and stepped back.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Maybe you ain’t as much of an idiot as I thought.”

Vince realized he had been gripping the edge of the table so tight his fingers went numb. He released the grip, his fingers tingling, blood rushing to his ears under Nikki’s fixed stare. He couldn’t decipher the thought process behind it, and it made him anxious. What was this man thinking? Was he going to beat him, bend him over the table or let him go?

Nikki made one more step back, as if to see Vince better, head slightly tilted to the side. Vince couldn’t hold back a little sigh of relief at no longer feeling his sharp knee between his thighs, bony fingers digging into his skin, the heat of a muscular body against his own.

Now what?

“I see the night at the galley taught you something,” Nikki finally said with a one-sided grin. “Or maybe Mick did – though he usually isn’t into that kind of thing. Anyway. If you have spat in the porridge – I will skin you alive and hang you on the mast upside down by the balls. Now move.” He pushed Vince away from the table and plopped down onto a chair. “Damn, my mouth is dry like a desert. Pour me some beer.”

A couple seconds passed before he looked up at Vince. He stood where Nikki had pushed him, completely still. What he feared so much seemed to pass, yet he couldn’t move, as if something was holding him in place. Fear, maybe. Shame also. Guilt, perhaps? Or all of the above?

The spoon rattled on the table. Nikki rose from his seat. His eyebrows curved into a frown again. When he stood upright, the top of Vince’s head barely reached his chin, and he wasn’t a small man either. Well, some of it had got to be his platform boots, right?..

Nikki stepped forward, his chest now mere inches away from Vince’s - again. Vince’s breath faltered, everything in him screaming to move away, to leap out of his reach, but Vince was frozen to his place, staring at the tattoo on his chest to avoid his heavy gaze. The tattoo looked old but well-kept, with no blurred lines or faded color.

Nikki picked up the full beer bottle from the tray, and for a second Vince was sure he would smash it on his head. When Nikki’s hand began to rise, he closed his eyes, waiting for the hit.

Instead, a hand forced his palm open, and the other shoved the bottle in it. Vince instinctively curled his fingers around its neck so that it wouldn’t fall.

“Pour. Me. Some. Beer.” Nikki said distinctly, each word like a slap.

This time he didn’t add a threat, which was worse than when he did.

“Fine,” Vince said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Fine.”

Nikki returned back to his chair, looking at him darkly the entire time. Vince must have crossed the border of threats and jabs and ventured into the unknown and thus even more terrifying territory of menacing silence. He wondered if he would he be able to get out of it safe. Unlikely, his subconscious concluded. Was his effort to please Nikki, the effort that made him feel like he was smeared in tar and feathers, fruitless then?

Nikki didn’t seem to need much help during his breakfast, despite his previous demands. Not that anyone but the smallest infants would – that was just porridge, after all. It was a wonder that the captain ate the same food as lower-ranking sailors and even a kitchen boy, but maybe it was normal among pirates. They were all outlaws and rag-tags, so there was hardly a lot of difference between them and their leader, except maybe in fighting skill. Which Nikki possessed quite a high level of – Vince doubted that even his swordsmanship teacher would be able to beat him, and Vince was his best pupil.

“I see Mick found use for the sugar from your ship,” Nikki said as he was finishing the porridge. “We usually sell it, y’know – none of us ‘s got a sweet tooth, I believe, and hookers ain’t cheap – but I ain’t gonna scold him for that. You live only once, right? You gotta enjoy life once in a while.”

“You seem to be enjoying it to the fullest already,” Vince replied bitterly.

“You can’t get too much of a good thing. You will always want more,” Nikki dabbed his mouth with a yellowish napkin that sometime in the past had been decorated with embroidery and lace. Now only lace tatters reminded of its former glory. Vince wondered whose officer’s or noble’s lifeless body this napkin was taken away from. Maybe it still had a signature in the corner?.. “Which is a curse and a blessing at the same time. For example, I was hungry fifteen minutes ago. Now I’m full, but I’m still not satisfied: one desire replaces the other. Take off your pants.”

The last phrase hit Vince like a lightning bolt from the cloudless sky. He staggered back, dumbstruck, until his back hit the wall. Nikki followed him so swiftly he didn’t even register his movements: one second he was at the table, the next his hand slithered under Vince’s shirt, his body pressed against Vince’s, a stark contrast between its heat and the coldness of the wall behind his back. The hand under his shirt grasped the fabric and pulled it up, baring Vince’s stomach.

Nikki leaned forward to him, his hot breath burning Vince’s ear.

“Have I mentioned that you’ll have to take care of my morning wood as well?” he murmured. “How’d you say, ‘ask nicely’? Well, I’m asking.” His hand drew slowly across Vince’s stomach, his fingers hooked onto the waistband of his trousers and pulled them down, ignoring all his attempts to hold them in place.

“Asking implies that I can refuse,” Vince whispered desperately. He couldn’t do this again, not so soon, not with the pain still throbbing in the lower part of his body and the gruesome details of the scene still burned into his brain, floating in front of his eyes whenever he wasn’t actively distracting himself. “You don’t give me a choice.”

“Your opinion doesn’t really matter here,” Nikki smiled condescendingly. “I take whatever I want, whenever I want. I could just as well tie you up and fuck you dry again – or I could do it gently, but only if you behave. These are your options.”

Nikki slowly, almost tenderly, tucked a stray strand of Vince’s hair behind his ear, baring the barely closed cuts on his neck, and leaned closer to them. His hot tongue slowly drew along the deepest cut, leaving a wet stripe there, making the cut tingle.

“I’m not ready,” Vince finally murmured, his voice breaking. “I can’t do it again. Not today.”

“Oh, your little tight asshole still hurts?” The corner of Nikki’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I’d never believe you were a virgin, y’know – until I fucked you.” His other hand slid down Vince’s back and grabbed his butt cheek through the fabric of his pants. “Still can’t get my mind over the fact that I was the one to pop your cherry. There’s no way there weren’t any willing before me.”

My acquaintances are not sodomites, unlike you savages, Vince wanted to say, but didn’t, with effort swallowing the words that kept trying to slip from his tongue. Nikki didn’t hurry him, observing him from under half-closed eyelids, as if he could see the mess of Vince’s thoughts inside his mind. Just comply, said some of them. Just comply, it will hurt less. Where’s your dignity? shouted others. How weak do you have to be to break so soon, at the mere prospect of pain?

“I can feel your thoughts racing in your head,” Nikki said finally with a sly grin. “I have to admit, your insults are even somewhat entertaining. But I’m not in the mood for a verbal joust. Now, on the bed face down.”

Before Vince could utter a word, he was dragged to the very same bed he was raped on last night. The bloody trails were still there. Nikki slept on that? Disgusting.

His back hit the soft mattress, his shoulder wound sending spikes of pain down his arm. Then Nikki was hovering over him, biting at his neck, his hand grabbing his chin and pulling his head to the side for better access.

Vince whimpered when another bite grazed one of the cuts. Nikki licked a wet stripe along his collarbone while his hand began pulling Vince’s pants down.

Vince gave in.

“No, no, no,” he murmured, trying to grab Nikki’s arm and pull it away. “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.” Panic rose in his chest like the tenth wave, crushing the last remains of self-control Vince tried so hard to preserve like a tsunami would crush a fisherman’s hut. He pushed Nikki back, fruitlessly trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Don’t touch me!”

The shove gave him but a mere moment to escape before Nikki threw himself onto Vince, pinning him to the bed, his knee pressing down painfully on Vince’s crotch.

“What the hell was that?” Nikki hissed, his eyes dark with rage. His hand squeezed Vince’s throat, not strong enough to suffocate but enough to make his heart beat faster and breath become quicker and shallower. Vince grabbed his hand on his neck and tried to pull it away, barely aware of what he was doing, not realizing how much worse the situations was getting with his every movement. Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t-

“Stop putting on a show,” Nikki demanded, slapping Vince on the hand that was trying to unclench his fingers. “You look like you’re gonna piss yourself. I won’t clean up after ya!”

Vince almost didn’t hear him, too busy trying desperately to inhale. It was only partially Nikki’s chokehold’s fault - the air refused to go into his lungs even when he gasped for breath. Any attempt to even out his breathing made him suffocate even harder. He could barely feel his own body, like a prisoner in the cell rather than an owner of the house; it was so big he could get lost in it yet so small he couldn’t even turn his head. Nikki’s angry voice merged with the noise growing inside his skull; Nikki’s frowning face blurred together with the surroundings.

Vince didn’t know how much time had passed until someone yanked him by the hair, pulled his head up and forced the mouth of a bottle between his teeth. Cold, burning liquid rushed down his throat, making him choke, but its coarseness grounded him, dragged him back into his own body. He coughed and jerked his head, trying to free his hair from the grip, but the hand held tight.

Slowly, colors started coming back and the shapes became well-defined again. Especially clear was Nikki’s face right next to his – it was his hand that still gripped his hair. His eyebrows were curved in a frown, but the off-putting glint in his eyes that appeared when he was enraged wasn’t there now, nor was there a sadistic, gut-churning curve to his smile. He looked… alarmed, even.

“What the hell, man?” he said, his tone teetering on the edge between anger and concern. “I thought you were gonna pass out right here.”

“I… don’t know,” Vince replied, his voice hoarse. “Couldn’t breathe.”

“Next time I won’t use my premium whisky on you, so don’t get your hopes up.” Nikki huffed and in three big gulps finished the rest of it, then threw the empty bottle on the table where it landed with a loud clink. Was he going to finish what he started?..

“Get yourself together, crybaby,” he said sharply and rose from the bed, turning his back on Vince. “There ain’t no servants with smelling salt ready anymore. Next time all your begging and crying won’t help you. Try to pull anything, you’re going on a date with sharks.” He sank into an armchair on the other side of the room and waved his hand at the door. “Now get the hell out of here. Don’t forget the dishes.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Vince’s legs were still shaking when he got back to the galley, miraculously not having broken a single dish on the tray despite his trembling hands. Mick wasn’t there, thank God: for a while he had the room for himself.

He threw the tray into the tub, ignoring the clanging with which it landed onto the dirty dishes, and slid down the wall onto his sleeping spot. Hot tears welled behind his eyes; he was alone here, so he let them slide down his face while he bit into his wrist to hold back the crying. Pathetic, he could almost hear Nikki say. Oh, our princess is upset? Tommy echoed, and the entire crew laughed. That’s not a Shout-worthy behavior, Mick said gravely. You want to survive? You grit your teeth and pull through all the obstacles on your way. Death isn’t an easy way out, his father’s voice said distinctly. Death is a way of cowards. Are you a coward, Vince Wharton? Are you no better than this gang of rapists and murderers?

“Shut up,” Vince murmured, not sure if he said that out loud or inside his head, but it didn’t really matter anyway. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the voices weren’t real, none of them; he was alone here. He was alone, and yet he wasn’t. He was. He wasn’t. He was. He wasn’t…

Later, Mick found him curled on his blanket, staring at the wall with empty and suspiciously puffy eyes.

#motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #vinikki #vinikki fanfiction #tw: rape attempt #tw: panic attack #phew. this was a lot of work #also yes i know i know there is a plot hole. im sorry but i am too lazy to fix it and it's 2:35 am now #i keep cutting the gerund forms and they keep showing up 😭#ok but my last update was almost a month ago so this one is a lil bit chunkier to make up for the trouble of waiting #i know at least one of you does wait for the next chaps. ily #ok i should go to sleep #nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars

17 notes · View notes

mrs-kelly · 2 years

Text

Ahdjgkgl dude I had the worst dream I’ve had in a good long while last night and I was telling my husband about it, and he started humming “He’s a Pirate” from p.irates of the c.aribbean to make me feel better ahdjfl

#called out ahdjfkfl #yes it helped; it made me stop thinking about the dream and start thinking about Jack instead ahdjfl #so funny to me that he knows how big a comfort it is to me #to the point where his lullaby to soothe me is a song from pirates ahdkflf #dude the dream was awful tho; my husband was dating this woman and everyone around me was telling me that was ok #even tho we’re married and we’d never discussed opening up our relationship?????#and then I sat down with him to talk about it and I asked him if I was that much of a burden #and he was like ‘god yeah. every single day it’s so hard to deal with you’ and um. that was so freaking hard to hear #and to make matters worse I ended up moving back in with my parents which is a terrifying thought all on its own #but also I locked myself in my room and started trying to think of people I could talk to about this #and I only came up with one person and it was my grandma. but she passed away last year :(#so I started crying because I wanted her help but I knew I couldn’t get it….#I woke up crying and my hands hurt because I was clenching them in my sleep :(#but my husband did make me feel better 🥺#reassured me I’m not a burden and all that. he told me I only make his life easier ahdkfl #so that feels pretty good #I just. phew. I’ve had some nightmares over the past few years but #nothing quite as bad as that. that’s a top tier nightmare #ren’s dream journal #jackren #nightmare tw

6 notes · View notes

ladybugsimblr · 8 months

Text

Rolling Stone - Fall Bailey Kay, One of One

Shoutout to @soulsimmin for the other musical artists noted on the cover and general Team BK shenanigans. Somebody cut the check.

Article Below

Category: Baaad Bitch

10.59pm The initials BK pop on the screen indicating Bailey Kay has joined the Soom call. The camera flashes on and my heart skips a beat. I hear her soft but firm voice say “Kiss” and another face appears in the view. Bailey’s husband Quinton leans in for a kiss as requested. The two quickly exchange “Love you’s” and adoring looks and then he’s gone as fast as he appeared. Bailey Kay turns to me and I now have her undivided attention. She flashes that gorgeous smile and my heart skips a beat again.

“Sorry. Hi! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me this late. I hope you’re a night owl too.” Absolutely not. I’m normally in bed by 10pm, but who says no to the Queen B when she agrees at the last possible second to her first interview in ages. I awkwardly reply “I am tonight!” and she laughs, exclaiming “I like you!” Phew! Any remaining tension and nerves are gone. Let’s get into this.

Channeling my glitteriest of kitties I jump right in and ask “Where are the visuals? We the butterflies are begging for the music videos and performances.” Honestly I expected a glare or an eye roll in return, but I get a sly smirk instead. “You are the visual”

I instinctively look at the small image of myself on the screen thinking I did too much with my look for this call. Bailey must have sensed my confusion and continues: “Butterfly is about celebrating life, love, and freedom, overcoming struggles and transforming into your best, highest self. I didn’t want to dictate how anyone experienced those things with the typical visuals. But I did want to get the party started so I gave you the first step- the music.”

“So you dropped the album and bounced to let us party and figure it out for ourselves?”

“You are funny! But yes, kinda. And look what happened! You all started your own challenge and created the visuals, and all I had to do was sit back and watch. Also I really didn’t leave y’all empty handed. I thought we killed it with the pics in the Butterfly Box. But I can’t forget the hive is the hardest to please and I love that. Keeps me on my toes.”

“Ok, I see the vision, but why literally leave the country and go on vacation during an album rollout? That’s unheard of!”

“Ok two reasons. The first is that was what I needed to do. That was my way of celebrating. I told my baby girl that putting out an album was like graduating. I fought hard to overcome my own issues and dark places and now that the project was out to the world, I needed to release and just be with my family, my babies.”

“And the second?”

“Because I can. I’m THAT girl! Deadass!” Again with a smile and a laugh. BK might be the nicest bad bitch I’ve ever met.

“What do you say to the critics who say the album is going to fail? There are rules to the game if you want to succeed.”

“I say check the streaming numbers and sales.” That eye twinkle and smile return one more time. “Rules are meant to be broken. Sometimes. Note to self: Redact that line before my terrors read this. But seriously if we did the same thing, the same way, every time, art, music, life would all be extremely boring. Tackling the unheard of and never been done before is my shit. I live for that. As far as succeeding… I’ve been lucky enough to have more success in my entertainment career than I ever dreamed of. Whatever I do from here on is the extra sauce and will not be measured by industry standards.”

“Speaking of the future, what more can we expect for Butterfly? Please say tour.”

“Ha! Ummm performances are coming. It’s time for me to party with the butterflies.”

“Ok, will they be on multiple stages in cities near all of us?”

“I can't with you! But I can say I’ll perform songs from Butterfly and the rest of the catalogue, on stage, soon. Stay ready.”

And ready we will stay. Ready for the Queen BK. One of One. Number One. The Only One.

#extra extra quota filled for the week LOL #cover girl is back #need to update the magazine cc #bklegacy #bklgen2 #bailey kay

162 notes · View notes

nurveart · 11 months

Text

I’m so sorry, i made a totally mistake in the last one.

Ok, NOW the REAL NO FAKE Peppino is a vintage sign for his restaurant.

(I’m sure nobody notice that, phew!)

#pizza tower #fanart #pizza tower peppino #pizzatime #pizza tower fake peppino

340 notes · View notes

brisquad-unit-4402 · 10 months

Note

unit 4402, not to be needy in your inbox, but i haven't stopped thinking about the pliskin fic ever since i read it. it's so good. the emotional intimacy. the little snippets of their friendship before they actually meet. the stupid clumsy confession scene(s?). it's SO well-crafted, you should be a licensed writer.

alas i need pliskin!reader and ike to meet again and be horny because i think it'd be funny and endearing. they have all this emotional closeness but when it comes to actually being together irl they're suddenly shy and overwhelmed at the prospect so they act like teenagers again. i don't even need to think about the actual nsfw parts, i just love imagining them navigate this new romantic territory and being in love and making mistakes and laughing about it and being so sweet i get cavities 😔 i love them, they should be together forever i think

- anon 🦝 if i'm allowed a sign off qvq

[non-explicit nsfw under the cut]

oh 🦝 you're always allowed to sign off, i don't mind! thank you for the lovely complim—

HORNY???

🦝. you are so brave for speaking the truth.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it’s like this ok. they’re both such sweet people and genuinely want the best for each other, all this time has let them understand how they see one another and how to communicate, especially since they’re miles away from one another. every now and then the stars align and they get roped along into an off-collab with some of their other friends, and find excuses to sneak out by themselves just to spend time with each other and catch up on all the little touches they missed.

hands bumping together here, an arm around the waist there. resting on one another and taking in the scent as you wrap your arms along him. you spend a wintry week in london with half of the luxiem boys and a few other livers that want to visit, but you don’t miss how ike’s fingers brush against your neck as he places his scarf around you. the touch is brief but you have to grit your teeth as he ties the scarf, and the remains of his touch burns like coal under the fabric, unsatiated. you can’t keep your eyes off him but your hands want to explore, make him feel good.

eventually you both make time to meet up for a few days, just the two of you, discreet enough that only a few of your close friends know that you’re housing a guest at your place and your fanbases are unaware. it’s not like it was the whole point of the visit, to be clear! horny thoughts be damned, you really did want to see him again. being able to show him around your town and do the cheesy couple things—holding hands, cute dates, sharing clothes, the whole nine yards—it feels like a dream.

on that first night you agree he'll share the bed with you, and when he makes sure you're comfortable with it, he pulls his shirt up over his head and falls asleep half-naked under the covers. you wake up the next morning with a view of nothing but his chest, which pairs nicely (read: awkwardly) with the dirty dream you woke up in the middle of before you could get full closure.

you bring it up to him that very day. it starts off simple:

"do you ever want to have sex? yeah, i'm ready for it. yeah, i understand. that's what you want? i can do that.”

and it's just so easy deciding it then and there. and then he asks questions, and you're glad to receive them, and that makes you ask him about his preferences, too, and the conversation gets more intimate from there and halfway through it hits you that it's really happening and that, god, you're ready but you're not prepared at all for how bashful you're getting and he's getting bashful too and it's good information that should be out in the open and you're glad it is especially because it's important to know what is and isn't okay and he needs to know too but—phew. the conversation ends when everything's been said but your flustered face is in your hands and ike's been wiping a cleaning cloth at his glasses for the last ten minutes so he doesn't have to make eye contact.

but, well, you're both on the same page now! and the feeling is mutual.

and he's on top of you now. his glasses rest on the nightstand, and without them, his eyes are so, so clear, and bright, even as the red around his cheeks threatens to burn brighter.

"this is okay?" ike asks. one of his hands holds you down by your wrist but you can feel him tremble. he lets go to wipe his hands on the sheets. "sorry, my hands are sweaty. it's just that i've been looking forward to this for so long."

he giggles a little at his own awkwardness, and it spreads to you, too. he sounds so soft and cute. you sound like a weirdo. "oh, me too, you have no idea."

his eyes flit down. "can i take off your...?"

"yeah, you can s-strip me. if you want..."

bad choice of words. or good? you can't tell, just that it's making your heart lurch as he undoes the button. an inch of your underwear peeks out.

"oh, so you're wearing this color? it's really you," he says. it's so matter-of-fact and unsexy that you can't help but laugh. “wait, no, i mean, it’s good! i like it! they suit you—oh, forget it, i give up.”

you stay giggly while he undresses you down to the skin. you meet his lips and kiss him, soft and smiley as he shakes off the embarrassment. "never change. love you."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

ah i got carried away but what if one or both of them are virgins...

they get to explore everything for the first time and with it comes all the anticipation and surprise and pleasure of feeling it all for the first time... you know. how wet it is and where things go. how the actual action is done so soon but how long you can savor the foreplay.

and all the silliness that comes with it! it's trying something new together. every touch runs electric and it's so hard not to beam at how it feels. bonus points if they're ticklish and laugh while fucking, turning the little shivers and thrusts even more intense, all smiles and loose laughter while you enter for the first time

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland fluff #ike eveland smut #nijisanji en #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #4402 answers #4402 brainrot #pliskinverse #4402 writes #🦝 anon #nice comments

162 notes · View notes

drconstellation · 4 months

Text

Monkey Business with Furfur

This is a 2024 Smut War meta

(NSFW? I tried to keep it reasonably clean, just filled with innuendo.)

Time to dig up some dirty dirt from before the Fall.

Memory problems? Oh, Hell no! There was no way Crowley was going admit to remembering this bit of history between him and Furfur, especially not in front of Aziraphale.

On the surface this incident with Furfur in the dressing room at the Windmill Theater adds weight to the appearance that Crowley has holes in his memory, just like Gabriel does during S2. But a closer look at the language being used during the post-magic show scene actually reveals quite the opposite - something that is - well, I shouldn't say totally unexpected because I've written about it tangentially before - but something that I think will shake up the way we view things between the three of them.

Firstly, lets review what I call the sub-story theme running underneath this section of the episode: King Arthur and Camelot. I talked about it length in my meta Once and Future Royalty. Here's the important paragraphs from that work for this particular meta:

Yes, poor old Furfur. Two's company, three's a crowd, as they say. Now we know we're in Camelot, we need to be reminded of the central tragedy of the Arthurian story, that ultimately led to the golden kingdom's fall. Lady Guinevere, Arthur's queen, famously loved Sir Lancelot, and the two were passionate lovers. It was essentially a love-triangle at the top, with Arthur being jilted, but he wouldn't/couldn't discard his queen. Where do we see this playing out in 1941? Furfur, pleased with himself for catching an angel and a demon in the act of consorting together (with the help of the zombies,) barges into the backstage dressing room, and confronts the lovers with their crime. But who is playing who in the Arthurian love triangle? I would say Furfur is clearly caught in the role of Arthur here. Consider the following exchange:

[See GIFs at top - I will quote relevant script shortly in detail]

Furfur claims a past intimate relationship with Crowley, which Crowley spurns offhandedly. Crowley is playing Guinevere here, jilting Furfur/Arthur, which leaves the demon-smiting Aziraphale standing in for the handsome hero Lancelot (with his French connections, no less), and doesn't he make us weak at the knees when he drops his voice an octave in dominating disgust. (Is it suddenly getting hot in here...?Phew!)

Recently someone posted more images of Furfur's costume, and the sash was shown reversed, where a red crown can clearly be seen under the stag's head, which to me just adds weight to the Furfur=Arthur role.

Next we need to take another look at this line from Furfur:

FURFUR: I was right next to you. We did loads together. You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat.

Everyone took this too literally.

Really.

I mean really really.

There are two things - ok, three things - this set of lines tells us.

The first is the most obvious and likely the surface impression - maybe Crowley did turn himself into a monkey. But this is a misdirection to the real information here, so forget that. Put it to one side for the moment, at least.

Secondly, Furfur had a "monkey on his back."

We see by this turn of phrase that he was burdened by a problem, or something he couldn't let go of, and in this situation it clearly looks like a long held bitter feeling towards Crowley and his apparent freedom on Earth.

CROWLEY: Oh, we shan't, this is ridiculous. [leans back and puts hat over his face] FURFUR: No, what's ridiculous is demons like you doing what they please. And somehow still getting on, while demons like me graft for hundreds and hundreds of millennia and never get a sniff of a promotion! Well, not this time. Expect a Legion to come for you first thing tomorrow. Enjoy your last night on Earth.

Thirdly, the whole thing indicates there is a past history of "monkey business" between Furfur and Crowley, before the Fall. This is further emphasized by Furfur's greeting on arrival:

FURFUR: Hmm, well, well, well... What have we here? AZIRAPHALE: Sorry, have we met? FURFUR: Oh, no, you never had the pleasure, but... we have, haven't we? CROWLEY: Have we?

Ohhhh, Crowley. o_0 No, no, no, no, nooooooo..........

Can you see it? Can you see why he would deny knowing Furfur? That they did "loads together?"

Do you know what "monkey business" is an alternative phrase for?

Remember the Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot love triangle?

Do you think Crowley is going to admit this in front of his angel?

Uh huh.

Really. Really really.

An "unreliable narrator" indeed.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #furfur #good omens 1941 #1941 minisode #good omens after dark #goad #smut war #ineffable smut war #monkey business #monkey on your back #king arthur #camelot #you'll never look at that scene the same way again #bring on 1941 part III

65 notes · View notes

groupiegirlie24 · 1 year

Text

Bless Your Little Heart

A/N: Phew, so this is actually the first time I’ve put fan fic out, I’ve always made little blurbs here and there in my notes app but never sat down and wrote one to post. Go easy on me, I’m learning! (Also this is kinda long oops). Also this is actually inspired by lyrics from “Bless Your Little Heart” by The Velveteers! So enjoy!

Pairing: f!reader x Jake Kiszka

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol consumption & drug use, break up, unprotected sex, jealousy, mentions of toxic relationships, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f! &m! receiving), strong language, mentions of a break-up, name calling, spit play, degradation, hair pulling, choking, slapping, blood (barely), dom!Jake. (I think that’s all)...

Bless your little heart…

Waking up from your nap, you look at your phone to see a text from your best friend inviting you to a party tonight. You groaned and threw your phone to the other side of the bed, leaving her on read. On any other Friday night, you’d already be halfway done with your makeup, with your hair done, and your hottest outfit on, starting to pregame for the weekend activities. Except this week was different, you were single. For the first time in a long time, you were completely single. You had been with your ex-boyfriend for awhile, a toxic relationship that was now over. One day you were in love, and the next it seemed like you were at each other's throats all the time.

The final straw was last Saturday, you got into a huge argument when Jake had seen you talking to another guy at a bonfire. To say he lost it, would be an understatement. He ended things with you right there, and left. This was different from the other arguments and fights though. Jake always would come around and call you or pull up to your apartment to figure things out or half-ass apologize. But this time, your phone never rang, and the apology was nowhere to be found. Instead, you got blurry pictures from your friends about Jake out with another girl; his arms around her waist, his tongue down her throat.

Devastated and angry, you hadn’t left your room since. You had barely even spoken to anyone. So it was fair to say, the party invitation was going to be a firm pass. Happy with this decision, you picked up the T.V. remote to scan through Netflix and find something to watch. Five minutes later, you were comfy, watching Gilmore Girls, and snacking on pretzels when your phone started buzzing from the corner of the bed where you had thrown it. Maybe if you ignore it long enough, they’ll leave you alone…right?

On the third call you finally sighed and picked up the phone to see your best friend Kate calling you. Your finger hovered over the green button trying to decide whether you wanted to deal with this right now. Maybe it was an emergency? Ugh. Fine.

“PLEASE tell me you aren’t still in bed.”

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Y/N you need to get up. You need to get your sorry ass out of bed, it’s been days.”

“I’ve left my bed plenty?”

“Bathroom & snack breaks don’t count.”

“Ok fine, then maybe I haven’t so what?”“Come to the party tonight, I’ll drive so you can drink your sorrows away.”

“Kate, really I don’t want to go. I’m bad company, you wouldn’t want me there.”

“But I do, and you’re going. Jake & that bitch Maddie will be there.”

“Ok so I DEFINITELY don’t want to go then, why would I want to see them?”

“Because you’re going to put on your sluttiest outfit and that red lipstick that used to drive him up the wall, take a few shots of tequila for confidence, and find the hottest guy in the room and get yourself back in the game.”

“I’m not sure that’s my favorite idea.”

“Well too bad, I’ll be there in 45 minutes to pick you up.” *click*

So now here you are, hair done, makeup done, and dressed in the sexiest outfit you could find. You know you previously said you hated this idea, but to be honest you’ve come around to it. After slipping into a skin tight black mini dress that cut deliciously low to show off your plump breasts, and swiping on a deep red lipstick…You actually felt good. Your curves accentuated in all the right places, this outfit was dangerous. You felt hot, sexy, and out for blood. As you put my gold earrings in and slipped on your shoes, you heard Kate’s car pulling up and headed outside.

Pulling up to the Wagner house, you realized you might be in over your head. There were way too many people here. Luckily, Kate delivered on the tequila she promised; handing you a bottle and demanding you take a sip. Three tequila shots should do it right? Let’s hope.

Walking through the doors you recognized the normal crowd, most people already drunk or high. The music loud, and the bass so heavy you could feel it in your bones at points. You and Kate pushed through the crowd to find the rest of our group, and as we did you found your traitorous eyes darting around looking for that familiar brown mop of hair, and those deep brown eyes that could turn you into a puddle. When you didn’t find him, you felt a wave of relief. Maybe he wasn’t here. Walking up to your friends, you fell into casual conversation. Slowly, you could feel the tequila sneaking up on you.

After a few minutes, Kate asked if you wanted another shot. Why not right? Fuck it. After the shot, you felt loose. Euphoric even. You grabbed Kate and dragged her towards the dance floor. Feeling the music you slipped into the rhythm, grinding your body against Kate’s and just having fun. You weren’t paying much attention but you could feel eyes on you. Looking up you made eye contact with him. He was leaning against the wall across the room, Maddie pressed up against him so all you could see was her extremely short dress and long blonde hair. His hands trailed down her back, making their way towards her ass. His hair was slightly disheveled, wearing a maroon button up shirt that was completely unbuttoned, his tan skin was gleaming, begging to be touched. Shaking the thoughts from your head, your eyes came back up to meet his. You could practically see the heat in his gaze, and if you couldn’t you could certainly see it in his smug smirk. Looking over your shoulder you realized Kate had started to dance with another guy you recognized, Danny. On the other side of you, you could see Sammy.

Sammy was Jake’s younger brother, but he was also a friend of yours. Sammy was always good looking in an effortless way that made girls drool, but he wasn’t Jake. Reaching your arm out you grabbed onto Sammy and pulled him closer to you. To your surprise, he came up behind you with no hesitation. Locking eyes with Jake, you started to dance with Sammy. Immediately the smirk from Jake’s face dropped. Smiling at the win, you turned to face Sammy and took the opportunity to get even closer. Your chest completely flush with his. He smiled down at you and allowed you to have complete control of this encounter. You grinded with Sammy, allowing your faces to be a mere inches away, giggling and whispering flirtatious comments in his ear.

You continued this way for a few songs until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you towards someone else. You whipped your head around to find Jake, pressed against you, his hands on your lower back now & holding you in place. You started to pull away when you realized you could play this game. Maybe it was the tequila talking but you could play, and you could play it better.

“A shame you pulled me from Sammy, I heard he's a good lay.”

“My brother couldn’t handle you.”

“I mean if he’s anything like you then you may be right.”

A smile played on his lips, and the heat in his gaze grew. You knew you were treading dark waters playing this game.

“You put on quite the show for me with him though, might as well have blown me a kiss to make it a little more obvious Y/N.”

“Bless your little heart, you think that was for you? No, I just have always wanted to know how Sammy would feel pressed against me.”

“Oh come on, you know you can’t resist me. You never could.”

“Mhm, where’s your little plaything?”“Maddie? She went home, why? Up for a little three way fun Y/N?”

Disgust clouded your mind thinking of having to share Jake, thinking about another woman’s hands all over the places you’ve claimed a hundred times now. Hiding your disgust, you jumped back into your little game.

“It’s really such a shame you love to hate me Jakey.” You said as you turned to finally face him, making a show of pressing yourself against him. You could see the bulge in his jeans, not fully hard but you could see he was turned on from your banter. Jake wedged his leg between yours so you could feel his thigh pressed against your core. You gasped a little at the sudden contact, desire glazing over your eyes as you looked back up at him. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were also turned on by this little game you were both playing. Lost in thought, you didn’t feel Jake’s hand inching towards your neck. His hand coming around and getting lost in your hair, he grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged you back. Leaving your neck exposed he brought his face close and you could feel his breath on your bare skin. His eyes hooded with lust as he took his time scanning your face.

“You look like a whore tonight.”“You don’t mean that Jakey, I see the way you’ve been looking at me.”

“And how have I been looking at you?”

“Like you want to eat me alive. Like you want to smear this pretty red lipstick I have on. Like you want to rip this dress off me with your teeth.”

Jake gulped and you swore his eyes rolled back a little. God, revenge was so good. You were finally winning, finally had the upper hand. Feeling downright cocky, you kept pushing.

“Such a shame I’m not yours to take though. You weren’t a half-bad fuck.”

No sooner than the words left your mouth, Jake’s eyes snapped open. His expression immediately changed to anger. He spun you around and grabbed your wrist pulling you up the staircase. His grip on you is a little too harsh to be a joke.

“Jake let go of me. Where are you even going?”

“Shut the fuck up Y/N.”

“You're hurting my wrist Jake let me go.”

He shoved you into a room you recognized as Danny’s guest room. He pushed you past the door and slammed it shut. He turned around to lock the door while you stood there dumbfounded. He spun around, his hand flying to your face and clutching your jaw.

“Who the fuck do you think you are Y/N? Hm? You’re nobody.”“Funny. I was someone to you a week ago.”

“Well now you’re nothing but a bratty bitch.”

The words barely registered with you before his lips were on yours, kissing you fiercely. He backed you towards the bed, your mind going a million miles a minute. You did not see the game going down the path of a hate fuck, but you were eager to play anyways. Pulling you from your thoughts you felt a hand press onto your chest and shove you on to the bed. Jake standing over you at the edge of the bed with a violent sparkle in his eyes. He finally leaned down, nipping at your lips hard enough to draw blood. You spat at him, blood and all.

“Oh Y/N, that wasn’t the move to make darling.” He said with a smile.

“Are you gonna be a good little slut and let me fuck you, baby?” he taunted.

You mulled over his words, wanting to spit in his face again but the dripping heat and throbbing between your legs told a completely different story. Jake had a strong hand gripping your jaw in a firm hold, forcing you to look up at him, his face had the same smug expression that made you want to slap it off of him.

“Answer me Y/N. Quickly.”

His firm body pressing into yours, pinning yours to the bed You tore his hand away from your face and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling his face into yours.

“You better watch your fucking mouth. Now, fuck me or fuck off, Jacob,” you seethed through clenched teeth.

“Oh in time, but until then, consider this punishment.”

Harshly, one of his hands pushing into your panties.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

He stood back up, his hand wrapping around your neck, holding you in place as he stood over you and pushed the dress up to expose your lower half.. His rough and calloused fingers brushed over your soaked thong, pushing past the fabric and claiming his prize, by collecting as much slick as he can before pulling them out of your panties. He slowly brought his drenched fingers to your face, showing you just how wet you are.

“You’re awfully wet for someone who was, what did you say? Oh not a half bad fuck.”

Jake takes his fingers and puts them at the entrance of your mouth, slowly you part your lips as you look up at him. Trying to maintain eye contact and a soft moan escapes as he pushes the fingers past your lips into your throat. This time you let out a whimper that is muffled by the fingers buried up to the knuckles in your mouth. No matter how hard you press your tongue against the intrusive digits, Jake merely applied more pressure to the slick muscle, shoving his fingers even further until you audibly gagged around them. Your spit coats the length of his fingers and the slender digits slip and slide against one another as he pumps them into your open mouth. A flood of drool dribbles down your chin as your jaw hangs open and a thin stream begins to trickle across Jake’s wrist. You watched Jake’s eyes follow the stream as he removed his fingers slowly from your mouth.

“Now look at the mess you’ve made…” You sat breathless on the bed still, half-naked and while you should feel embarrassed or ashamed of your current state; you were the opposite. You were thrilled, this kind of foreplay was pleasurable for you both. You enjoyed a rough fuck, and you knew Jake did too. As you went to reach for Jake, aching to feel his skin on yours, he backed away.

“What are you doing?”

“Tonights not about you Y/N, you pissed me off. You’re gonna pay that price now.”

You opened your mouth to speak, when Jake placed a hand on the back of your neck, fisting into your hair, pulling you towards him, and suddenly you were kissing him again. His tongue sliding into your mouth, keeping his left hand with a death grip on your hair, he slowly moved his right hand up to cup your breasts. You arched into the touch, whimpering into his mouth.

“So this is the secret to getting you to shut the fuck up.” He smirked into the kiss.

“Everytime you open that pretty mouth, you ruin the mood.”

You tried to sound unaffected, but Jake could tell from the soft moans escaping your already swollen lips, that you meant nothing of the sort; you wanted more. Absolutely needed more. He pulled down the top of your dress, that could barely be called a dress now that it was just black fabric bunched at your waist. Your breasts bounced out from the top of the dress and Jake immediately was all over them. Biting and leaving his mark anywhere he could. Slowly one of your hands snuck into his hair, close to the base of his ears, tugging on it with heavy force; the action rewarding you with a pleasured grunt as he sucked more deep purple bruises on your chest.

“I’m getting impatient Ja-” you moan, clenching your thighs together as he presses his face to your chest again.

“Should I stop?” he asks, tracing a finger over one of the many bruises he’s left against your skin. “Everyone should know you’re taken.” he breathed.

Jake’s tongue drags along your skin as he sinks down between your thighs, spreading them open and staring admiringly at your dripping cunt. He leans forward, his head now settled between your legs, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs. You hold them open wide for him, pussy clenching at his proximity. “Sir, please,” you whimper as you feel his hot breath ghost your core.

“Oh now we’re begging? I thought I wasn’t that good. Tell me how bad I am at this Y/N.”

“I-...I can’t. God I can’t.”

you stumble out, as you let out a gasp when his tongue licks your folds as his nearly black eyes, rimmed with revenge and desire, lock with your own. He’s teasing you, slowly, and he smirks again up at you. His hand was on your right hip, holding you tight (and God, he was strong) as he spreads you open and lapped at you with deadly focus, spinning you stupid at an alarming pace. Jake’s fingers are now dancing along the fullest part of your hip. He locks eyes with you again as he slips two fingers into you causing your hips to buck wildly into him, your hands reaching to grip onto anything you can. He chuckled against the wet mess he had already made of you, making your back arch from the sensitive chill as he put his mouth right above where his fingers were already causing the heat to stir in your stomach. His suctioning mouth pulled back, releasing your soft skin. Spreading your folds again with his tongue, he slowly licked up and down, before swirling his tongue around your clit, earning him a gasp and a tug of his long brown hair. He let his lips wrap around your sensitive nub, suckling at it gently - reeling from your soft moans.

“Fuck, Jacob, don’t… don’t stop… I’m so fucking close” you whimpered, before one last swipe of Jacob’s tongue had you so close to falling apart against his mouth. Looking down at him, his chin glistening with your arousal, you watched the smirk form across his face as he pulled back.

“Did you think I was going to let you cum Y/N?” His eyes were dark with a playful evil.

“On your knees, now.”

You looked up at him ready to protest when you felt his fingers coming to fist around your hair, yanking you up only to tug you onto the floor in front of him.

Your knees make contact with the cold wooden floor and you settle there between his legs. Your cunt throbs when your hands come together at the base of his cock, thumbs and pointer fingers trying to wrap around his girth. He's too thick for even both hands. You swallow down a moan when you feel him twitch.

“Stare later Y/N, put it in your mouth.”

You sit back on your ankles, head bowing to meet the tip of his hanging cock. All the muscles in his body tense and he hisses when you open your mouth and your tongue slides under his shaft. Keeping his hands in your hair he grasps the back of your head, jutting his hips forward so that his dick pushes past your lips, a little groan escaping your throat as he keeps pushing himself deeper into your open mouth. You groan, eyes squeezing shut as you adjust to his size. He's caught off guard when you nibble down on him a little bit. One hand leaves his shaft to reach down and cup his balls. You squeeze them gently and you feel the top half of his body hunch over. His fingers dig into your scalp with unbelievable pressure. The sound of you starting to gag seems to spur Jake on because he starts fucking your mouth faster. His movements start to become erratic as he approaches his orgasm. His breathing is heavy and labored. The hand tangled in your wet hair tightens even more and holds you steady. And you could feel him shaking, his grips on your head weakening as his fingers tugged at your roots. He was getting so close, but before you could feel him release down your throat he pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you looked up at him.

“Up, on the bed.” Shakily standing up, feeling the sting of the carpet on your knees as you winced a little.

“Who do you think you’re bossing around Jake, I’m not a ragdoll.”

“Tonight you are, you’re a little slut of a ragdoll.” He whispered, leaning closer to your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. His breath burns every inch of your skin, instantly causing the pool of wetness in between your thighs to collect again.

“Now, get on the fucking bed and maybe I’ll consider letting you get even slightly close to cumming tonight.”

Part of you wants to retort but the thought of him leaving the room with all your pent up sexual arousal stings more than you’d like to admit. So you lean back, lowering yourself onto the bed behind you. Your scowl and eyes remain trained on him as he watches you.

“Spread your legs, present yourself to me like the slut you are.”

He watches your pretty legs spread wide open, small tiny red bites spread over your soft thighs from where his brutal mouth was, your exposed breasts in all your glory, your perky nipples hard, and the dress he had hastily pulled down and up is now resting against your hips.

“F-Fuck get inside of me already.”

“beg.” Jake sighs as he stares down at you, legs open and ready.

“fuck you Jake.”

“You’re about to babe.”

He fists himself as he closes the distance between you two and bumps his tip against your clit making you want to cry, you’re so fucking wet for him.

“Enough teas-” he cuts your thoughts short by plunging deep inside of you and grabbing your hips, raising you up to meet his own. He pulled out just as fast as he entered you, pulling back for a torturous second before thrusting all the way in, and it made your breath falter, the way he filled you up so completely and fully.

“Say it, Y/N. No one compares to me. I’m the best you’ve ever had. Sammy could never fuck you like this”

Your eyes widened as you met his dead serious stare, heated eyes lasered in on your own in return. Waiting to hear your response. There was no way he didn’t already know, and you certainly didn’t need to feed his ego by moaning about it. The way he was stretching you out was near criminal, some kind of sweet agony that pulled a breathy whimper from your traitorous lips.

“Say. It. Now. If. You. Want. To. Cum.” every word punctuated by a hard thrust, causing tears to form in your eyes. His pace was brutal and relentless, he was burying himself deep in you, damn near feeling it in your stomach.

“Jake,” you muttered as his hand came up to spread across your throat, his thumb against your collarbone as he nudged your knees a little farther apart. You arched into him as he cups your breast, teasing your nipple with his calloused fingers.

“You’re the best. No one compares.” You breathed, a devilish grin forming on his lips, but you weren’t finished.

“I’ll fuck Sammy too, and let you know how he performs.” you replied with a smug grin of your own.

With this reply you were met with a heavy smack on the side of your thigh causing a moan to escape your lips. You locked your legs around him, and let your nails trail down his back, not caring if it hurt. He bites your nipple and you squeal as pleasure and pain mixed delightfully inside you. You love spurring on an angry Jake, it makes for euphoric sex and that’s exactly what you’re getting.

“Y/N, if you mention my brother again you won’t cum and that’s a promise. So shut the fuck up and take all of this.”

“Look at you, how pathetic, Y/N,” Jake says as you whine and whimper when he swipes his thumb over your swollen clit. “I know you are slut for my cock.” he grins, looking at you, spread wide on his bed. “How does it feel to have my dick inside? Mine. No one else's.”

His gravelly voice sounds intoxicating as he whispers to you in the darkness, you feel absolutely drunk off the way he’s fucking you. “It feels so good Jake, don’t stop.”

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your heat, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips. You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Jake.” You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release.

Jake keeps his brutal pace, absolutely pounding into you and he’s not showing any signs of slowing down. “Y/N I’m gonna fill you up.” Those simple words tearing the most pornographic moan from your throat. His fingers on your clit start rubbing faster as his breathing starts to grow ragged, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm. Your walls tighten around him and he hisses. The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over.

“Come for me Y/N, give it to me, cum all over my cock.”

He doesn’t have to wait long before you’re absolutely shaking, eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he pins your hips to the bed and pours into you. His hips stutter as your back arches off the bed, your walls clenching around his dick.

Slowly, Jake pulls out of you leaving you empty and cold. He backs up and stares at you, limp and breathing like a mad woman, still sprawled on the bed. Almost as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork in a museum.

“Filthy, you look absolutely filthy Y/N. Look at you, my cum leaking out of your dripping cunt. It’s a sight truly.”

Speechless, you just stare at him. That devilish grin you love appearing on his face. You watch him as he begins to redress. After putting his pants back on, he reaches down and grabs your still soaked thong and puts it in your pocket. Before you can question it, he’s already reaching for the door handle and turning towards you.

“I’ll hold on to these, maybe if you behave for the rest of the party you can come back to my place to get them back. See you out there.”

With a wink, he was gone. Disappearing into the dim light of the hallway and shutting the door behind him leaving you on the bed, naked and exposed. But you’ve never been more turned on in your life. The only thought in your head being, to find Sammy for another dance.

558 notes · View notes

birdlungg · 2 years

Note

May I make a request for the slashers?

for There s/o (Of course this can be gender-neutral!) looks very sweet looking and very soft-spoken, but one day their victim decides to charge at the S/o but the sweet looking S/o basically body slams their victim to the ground, what would be the reaction of the slashers?

if you don't like this or you're not up to it please ignore it :)

OOOOOOOH I LOVE THIS ONE

I'm sorry this took so long it's been sitting in my drafts and I didn’t realize it was there :///

This is such a good idea,,, character that goes feral when threatened

you love to see it.

Doing the three i consider the Holy Trinity - Michael, Thomas and Jason

Let me know what you think! headcanons and blurbs again

allusions to smut

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michael:

- tried hard to think of a situation that would put the s/o in harm's way of a victim

- I'm thinking maybe they get chased by Michael into the old Myers house?

- Michael would be shook but you wouldn't be able to tell

- maybe angry as well? like hey that was my job!

You heard the girl before you saw her. She was screaming through the house as Michael followed behind her menacingly. You didn't think she would be stupid enough to go upstairs while a murderer is chasing her, but here we are.

You're sitting calmly in your and Michael's room when she sprints up the last few stairs and stands there dumbly at the end of the hallway. She turns your way and you come at her, shoving her with enough force that she flies back several feet and hits the wall, just barely missing Michael as he comes up the steps. The girl is knocked silly, and sits there gasping while Michael looks between you both. He tilts his head as if thinking, then grabs her by the hair and drags her down the stairs.

You're probably gonna get it later.

Thomas

- he would be worried and turned on at the same time

- like don't pout yourself in danger but uh??

- phew that was hot

You're heading up the porch after helping Luda Mae at the station when a victim that got loose tears out of the house. He tosses you out of the way as he comes through the door, and limps as fast as he can into the field. You can hear Tommy roar from his basement, and don't think as you give chase, picking yourself up and sprint after him.

He tries to go even faster when he hears you behind him, but his mangles leg gives him no help. Thomas exits the house just in time to see you jump onto the man, tackling him hard to the ground. You crouch over him with a knee on his back as you turn to tell at Tommy.

“Tommy! I got 'im, he's over here!"

Tommy moves faster than you think you've ever seen him move, sprinting over to you in a panic. He lifts you off of the groaning man and checks for injuries. When he See's that you're ok, he looks at you long and hard for a moment before grabbing the man like he weighs nothing and tossing him over a shoulder.

If you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear he just got hard.

Jason

- much like Tommy, I think he'd find it hot to see you take care of the problem

- would he want you in harm's way again? probably not BUT may be persuaded to let you help him

It’s pouring rain at the camp right now and every step you take gets soggier and soggier. You grumble to yourself angrily at having to hunt down this survivor in the torrential rain. It needed to be done, but still, couldn’t this chick wait until the rain stopped?

You had see Jason struggling to reach her with both the weather and his large frame holding him back, so you had decided to lend your services in the hopes that it would bring your man back to you sooner.

A flash of lightning illuminates the woman’s figure hunched behind a tree and you don’t think before striking. You don’t give her any chance to fight back as you charge her. She falls over quickly with a scream, knocking her head hard on the wet ground with a THUNK. She’s dazed enough that she doesn’t fight when you move to put her in a choke hold when Jason’s figure standing just feet away catches your eye.

You freeze awkwardly as he approaches, standing once he’s leans over the barely conscious woman. He stomps on her head hard enough for it to crack open on the wet ground, and you have to look away despite yourself and make eye contact with Jason just in time to see him give you elevator eyes. ‘

The thought barely crosses your mind that he can see everything under your wet clothes when he reaches over and grabs you onto his shoulder. You gasp and hold yourself up (lest your nose fill with water) as he calmly walks away from the body. You glance over at the soggy corpse as you get further and further away.

That’s one way to deal with the problem.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #thomas brown hewitt #thomas brown hewitt x reader #Slashers #slasher smut #slashers x reader

1K notes · View notes

quitealotofsodapop · 2 months

Note

So Mk gets surprise eggo because of paint and confined space and lack of food? Imagine that he has no idea what’s wrong with him, he goes to Lao Tzu, and when Lao Tzu goes “congrats on the baby” Everyone just kinda stops.

And Mk bursts into tears so loudly that all of heaven can hear. He’s all “I can’t have a baby, it’s too dangerous!” And “I’m not ready!” Pigsy and Wukong are trying to comfort him, and the poor boys is just a sobbing mess.

And Lao Tzu is just standing there like “?????”

Sorry MK XD You're getting Egged

Bonus Anon asks:

Referencing this post where someone pointed out that MK could theoretically create a Stone Egg + the sequel that pointed out that he'd most likely do it on accident.

I could see this most likely happening in the Canon! verse since I bet the other au MK's would be more wary of Stone Egg mishaps. But I could 100% see it happening in the SlowBoiled au since that causes more drama.

And as much as I love the idea of MK becoming *ahem* egg'd as the result of a bad guy's plans or a huge catarosphe, I think it would fit more if MK did it completely on accident.

So the idea:

Post S3 MK decides that he needs some "Me time" and takes a break from work and training after the whole "Saving the world from a bone demon"-thing. He just needs some time to shut off completely from his responsibilities in the city. His friends understand and wish him well, even though they're worried since MK won't tell him *Where* he's taking a break to.

"Where" turns out to be a cool cave-let MK found while exploring FFM during S2 with no Monkey King to hover over him. Its quiet, it's secluded, its completely off-grid... But MK just can't relax. His brain is all busy, and everytime he sleeps he sees Her.

So he starts painting. And drawing. And using charcoal. Maybe a little rough pottery with the muddy clay-like stuff in the water? And soon enough he's looking like his Artist Clone with how caked in material he is.

In liu of going to sleep and risking terrible bone demon nightmares, MK meditates like how he saw the Monkey King do. In these moments his thoughts wander into deep, dark teritory. Real "call of the void"-type of thoughts.... hey should he eat something? It's been... oh gosh Pigsy's gonna killl him if he doesn't at least text to tell him how his sabbatical is going.

After his inpromtu vacation is up, MK feels... really gross? Maybe thats cus he hasn't really washed or slept or ate, or spoken to anyone in all that time. Weird.

Pigsy asks him how long it's been since MK last ate a full meal, and huffs with disappointment at his nervous laugh before pouring his son a bowl of noodles.

Bouts of nausea and dizziness follow MK everywhere afterwards. He had no idea why - paint fumes maybe? Did some toxic chemical seep into his skin? Did he get sick somehow from isolating himself in that cave? Is that Jin and Yin trying to take over the city?

At somepoint in the utter chaos of S4 likely as the rest of the gang are recieving training from Subodhi; a certain alchemist meets MK to whisper a few questions into his ear.

Lao Tzu: "I was told that you've been experiencing extreme power fluctuations for the last few weeks. May I run a few test to rule out any abnormalities?"

MK: "Oh cool, no probs! Just don't put me in that furnace thing-y."

(*a few tests later*)

Lao Tzu: "Ok great news, it's not a curse or medical problem."

MK: "Phew! Then why is my body feels like its "glitching" all the time?"

Lao Tzu: "Thats a decaying glamour spell. Its likely that you had one affixed to you shortly before you were given up by your creators."

MK: "Glamour spell...? Wait, then what about my powers wigging out?"

Lao Tzu: "Oh thats easy. You're just pregnant."

MK (has not Done the Do): "What!?"

Mere seconds after Lao Tzu gives the diagnosis - MK just starts bawling.

He doesn't want this! Not now! He does want to have kid while all This is going on! The world might be ending for Buddha's sake!

MK is having a million panic attacks rn. He wants to have kids, so many, but only in the *Future*! When he's like semi-retired and has a protege of his own to take over the monkey business- HEY WAIT, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!?!

Subodhi has to drop the big lore that MK is a Stone Monkey - capable of reproducing asexually under extreme circumstances, in order to clear up the whole immaculate conception part.

Then Lao Tzu has to tell MK that the Stone Egg he carries will likely Kill him since he's (mostly) mortal.

MK starts crying before deciding to tackle the issue Later.

Ofc MK simply doesn't want his family to worry about him what with all this Brotherhood stuff going on... so he just keeps quiet for now.

His family are going to find out soon though. And by Guanyin, Pigsy is gonna freak.

Macaque (and later Wukong), just need to sniff MK once after they reunite to notice whats up.

Wukong offers to grab some No-Baby Spring Water immediately if MK doesnt want to keep the Egg. Macaque briefly panics thinking that the kid got knocked up the old-fashioned way... only to panic harder when he and Wukong determine it to be a Solo-Made Stone Egg(!!!). Cue two panicking fellow Stone Monkeys making MK feel even worse about his conflicted feelings on the matter.

Pls add on what you think so far! :3

#MKEgg au #stone egg talk #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #pregnancy tw #stone monkeys #lmk lao tzu #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk pigsy #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque

52 notes · View notes

john-get-the-salt · 8 months

Text

Scrabble (w/bucky barnes)

Imagine: You and Bucky are enjoying a weekend off when you suggest playing a game Buck used to play back in the day. He's not as good as he remembers.

Contains: soft and healed Bucky because he deserves it ok I will personally seriously maim anyone who comes for my favorite soldier

Warnings: Implications of smutty activity, but no descriptors/details

You had never been as content as you were right in that moment.

It was a late Sunday morning and you were in bed, boyfriend curled around you. Bucky was still asleep, scruff tickling your skin and cold toes pressed against your legs. His metal arm rested on your hip, the other thrown somewhere under the mountain of covers.

His metal fingers would flex every once in a while, making you smile as he dreamt. The nightmares had faded significantly, becoming less and less frequent the longer you two were together.

Bucky had a lot of normal dreams now; grocery shopping while naked, being at the dentist, fighting Godzilla-that last one came the night after you watched the old classic.

But he woke up from every one of those dreams with a smile on his face. To him, even the uncomfortable dreams were special. They were a sign of normality.

"I floss," Bucky mumbled, breaking you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, trying desperately not to laugh. But the thought of Bucky arguing with someone about whether or not he flossed was too funny. As you giggled, chest shaking, he began to stir.

He hummed, eyes slowly blinking open.

"Sorry," you spoke softly once you got your laughter under control. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Is everything okay?"

If you weren't already laying down you would have swooned. Bucky's voice was already pretty deep, but his morning voice? Phew.

"You were talking in your sleep again, it made me laugh."

He groaned, tightening his arm around you and pulling you closer to him. "Not again. What was it this time?"

"Flossing."

Bucky chuckled, laying his head on your chest. Your hand automatically moved to his head where you began running your fingers them through his hair.

“My dentist didn't believe I was flossing."

You snickered.

“I could tell, you sounded mad."

"I was. I told him I did it twice a day and he didn't believe me."

You hummed, the room going quiet again as you played with Bucky's hair.

"What should we do today?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"We should do something. It's so rare to have a day off."

"Exactly, so let's just relax."

"I guess I could go for some relaxation."

You continued to weave your fingers throughout his hair, thinking.

"Oh! We could play some board games today. Board games and cuddles and coffee sounds like a good Sunday."

Bucky lifted his head from your chest to give you a sweet kiss. "That sounds perfect."

You slid out of bed, even as Bucky groaned and made grabby hands at you. "I'm gonna put on some coffee and pick our first game!"

There was a chill in the air so you slid on your sweatpants and one of Bucky's hoodies. You happily skipped to the kitchen, turning on the coffee pot before moving to the closet that held all the board games.

Bucky shuffled out of the bedroom a few moments later, going straight for the coffee.

"Any game preferences?"

"Whatever you want, babe."

"How about Scrabble?"

"Sure."

You cheered, bringing the game over to the kitchen table where Bucky sat with his coffee and some toast.

"I haven't played this in forever, but it was my favorite growing up. Have you ever played?"

"Well not to brag, but I was a scrabble master back in the day," Bucky puffed out his chest.

“We’ll see about that."

You set up the game, then got yourself coffee and a bowl of cereal before settling at the table.

"Oldest always goes first, so go ahead old man."

Bucky glared but spun the board to face him.

"I'm going to crush you," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" He called in a sing song voice while he put down his first word; sweet.

As you were in charge of recording the points, you wrote down his before spinning the board towards you with a sly grin on your face.

“If that's the best you got, you're going down."

"We'll see about that doll."

•

"That's not a word!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't! I've been playing this game way longer than you have and it has never been a word!"

"Last time you played was in the 1930's Buck! Words have evolved!"

Bucky frowned at the board where you had just placed the word Jeggings, branching off of his earlier word Jeans.

"Whatever, cheater. What are the points now?"

"124 to 56."

"See? I'm winning without cheating."

"124 points to me, 56 points to you."

"What?!"

"I'm winning,” you confirmed with a toothy grin.

Bucky crossed his arms, glaring down at the board.

“I can make a come back, just you wait."

"I'm waiting."

"Shut up."

•

"It's okay to give up, Buck."

"I never give up."

You rolled your eyes at your extremely dramatic boyfriend.

The game of Scrabble was nearing it's end. There were no more letters in the bag, and the two of you had only a few letters left. You had finished your turns, electing to take a deduction of 5 points for your remaining letters. But Bucky refused to call it quits and take a deduction of 15 points, claiming 'every point counts.'

"I don't think that J is going anywhere, babe."

It was true. The board was full of crowed words and there was no way he was going to be able to stick a J anywhere.

"Yes it is."

Rolling your eyes you stood up from the couch. "Alright well you work on that and I'm gonna make us lunch."

Yeah, it was lunch time already. That was how long this game had gone on. You bounced around the kitchen, putting together two sandwiches as Bucky continued to sit in front of the Scrabble board and stare in tense concentration.

Walking back into the living room you announced lunch was ready before setting down Bucky's sandwich and a soda. You sat down with your own food, digging in as your boyfriend remained utterly still.

"Buck, you tried your absolute best. But the board is totally full, there's no where for anything else to go."

Nothing.

You continued to eat and Bucky continued to sit and stare at the board. Eventually you finished your sandwich and drink, then Bucky's, before cleaning up the kitchen. Back in the living room the solider was still going strong. As this point you were convinced he was just doing this to get a rise out of you.

But two could play at that game, and you weren't afraid to play dirty.

Sighing dramatically, you stood behind the couch and behind where your boyfriend was sat in silence.

"Do you think the AC is broken? I feel like it's getting a bit hot."

Nothing.

"Maybe it's just me, but I swear it is hot in here."

Nothing.

Huffing, you slipped your sweatpants off and swung them over his head and across the living room.

Nothing.

Glaring at the back of his head now, you took your shirt off and threw that in the same direction as the pants.

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you then took off your undergarments and tossed them too.

NOTHING.

Throwing your hands up in the air you shouted, "Unbelievable!"

Stomping now, you moved around the couch and stopped directly in front of the coffee table and Bucky with his head down. You crossed your arms, jutted out your hip and tapped your foot.

"Buck?"

He refused to look up, and for a moment you really considered just strangling him.

In a last ditch effort you said, "Alright! You win, Buck. You win."

His head shot up, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Really? I-" His voice died off as he took in your current state.

"You-" he gulped, hands clenching and unclenching.

You grinned wickedly, enjoying his reaction. "I said you were the winner. Was I lying, sir?"

You uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides.

And not a moment later Buck had you over his shoulder as he headed back towards the bedroom.

A perfect Sunday indeed.

#imagine #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #avengers

87 notes · View notes

bronx-bomber87 · 5 months

Text

Happy Wednesday lovely readers :) I love any episode with Lucy/Tamara in it. Add in Tim? Makes an amazing thing even more so. I love this one for delving into Tamara’s past a bit, how Tim helps Lucy without a thought, and the bond between Lucy and Tamara. Such good one let’s get going.

4x11 End Game

We begin our episode with Tamara and Lucy. It’s clear Lucy has been up all night researching. Tamara asks why? Lucy tells her legal research. That kid Tyler she cited out last episode ended up stealing from a liquor store. He felt stressed to pay back the dealer he lost product for. Unfortunately he gave the store owner a heart attack. Luckily the owner is out and ok.

She’s been up all night trying to finds ways for the state to show him leniency since the owner is fine. I love both of them calling Chris the ‘clown’ from the DA’s office. Might be my new name for him. Chris the clown. It’s fitting. They have a lovely moment as Tamara refills her coffee and brings it to her. Saying this kid is lucky to have her backing him.

That she knows she was. Best thing she ever did was steal Lucy’s car. I mean it’s true haha I love Tamara being more open with Lucy. Showing how grateful she is that Lucy took a chance on her like she did. Tamara saying crime pays actually. In this case it does tbh. Heh Lucy says she’s cute when she walks away. It’s such an adorable mom/daughter open for them.

We see Mr. Clown shortly after Lucy arrives at the station. She is gloating that the store owner survived. Chris agrees with her that he’s happy she survived. Lucy questioning how true that is. She tries to get him to charge Tyler as a minor but Chris refuses of course. Schmuck. Lucy starts to tell him studies and he’s so condescending to her. Saying not to quote studies at him. I hate it so much. I dislike him greatly...

Tells her he will only charge him as a minor as long as he’s a CI for his crew. This is where Lucy really goes off on him. Both barrels and pulls no punches whatsoever. Chris is finding this amusing and I want to clock him. Calling her dramatic too. You don’t know her like that ya clown. So rude to say. Tim coming into the convo asking if everything is ok? I love that. Protective Husband is in the building.

The way she spins around to face Tim is hilarious. His face and posture LOL Lucy saying she can’t believe the nerve of him calling her dramatic. She sees his reaction and tells him don’t start. Haha Eric is the king of facial expressions. He doesn’t disappoint in the least here. His face conveying ‘ I didn’t say anything…’ Even though his body language is saying everything. Laughing so hard at his reaction.

Such a hubby move here. Doesn't say anything but she knows what that reaction means. HIs silence saying more than he ever could. He’s smart enough to know when not to engage her in a fight. Be more married you two please. Lucy is in full wifey mode here and my heart is so happy. Also my god the forearms/biceps. Phew lord. Love to have those wrapped around me like a blanket. There is just so much to love about this mini moment.

It’s the next part where we hit peak married vibes. Tim knowing her so damn well. Pinpointing why she is so friggin keyed up. Asking exactly how many cups of coffee she’s had this morning? God these two know each other so damn well. Lucy doesn’t lie and says she’s just going to apologize right now LMAO

Knowing how she’s going to be the rest of the shift for him. It’s so funny. I love her self awareness knowing she’s gonna be extra cause she’s hopped up on caffeine. Good thing Tim is actually is so very fond of it even though he’s exasperated at the same time hehe. She’s so cute I cannot.

Tim’s reaction to her reply is the best part. No one does the eye roll better than our guy. It’s so funny. It makes me laugh every single time. Lucy knows what she’s done and is just owning up it to ahha I love these two idiots so very much. Her saying it’s going to be a long day for him. Oh he’s well aware of that one my dear. I love them so much makes my heart hurt haha

Tim and Lucy are called to Lopez’s homicide. It’s a 18 year old girl killed and dumped. Tim is confused why Angela needed a sergeant. She tells them she didn’t. Just Lucy. Asking if she knows her? Lucy tells her no. Angela hands her the phone and says Tamara does. Pic of her and this girl as her Lock Screen. Hence them being looped in.

Cut to them retuning to her apartment. The marriage theme continues in this episode. Except it goes from sassy poking fun husband and wife. To very sweet and supportive husband for his wife. Being a sweet mom and dad tag team for Tamara in this moment. Which I adore so much.

Lucy is feeling lost and not sure how to handle this. You can tell as she enters the apt. She’s honest with Tim. Replies 'I don't know.' When he asks how she wants to handle it? Lucy tells him she’s done death notices before. But never for someone she cared about. Handling it as a cop vs as a roommate are different approaches. I love how Tim is watching her as she talks out her thoughts. Not judging her but wanting to support her. Knowing this is part of her process.

She is torn and Tim decides for her. Telling her just to be a friend and he’s got the cop part for her. I love this sfm. Letting her be the soft empathetic friend in this moment. That if she needed someone firmer or more business like to tap him in. Tim knows she wants to be the caring and soft one in this moment. Because he knows her so well. Wants to relieve her of the burden of being a cop right now. To let her just be the caring friend and if she needs a cop he will handle that portion for her.

It seems like such a small gesture that comes across as so much more. You can see Lucy visibly relax when he tells her this. Thanks him for this kindness. He has her back in more ways than one. I love their bond so much. Knowing exactly what the other needs in moments like this. He’s so soft for her I cannot handle it. Just being the best supportive work hubby he can be. Such growth makes my soul happy.

Gives Lucy a chance to relay the news to Tamara in the way she is most comfortable with. Solo in her room. It so sad to watch Tamara take in the news. Not believing Lucy at first or not wanting to really. Lucy confirming it by the phone that was found at the scene. Telling Tamara how sorry she was. I love Tim giving her this private moment alone with her. To be empathetic, caring and all the things she would need in this moment. Let her be Lucy her friend and roommate and not the cop.

Once they’re out of her room Tim is apart of the convo. Officially in cop mode now. Lucy asking if there was anyone her friend Becca was afraid of? Tamara says no but they hadn’t talked in 3 months. With school and her moving in they lost touch. Tim steps in and asks 'Any idea where she was crashing?' She tells them mostly the street, sometimes shelters, some families let you crash on the floor if they had room. Her last known suggestion is a darker one.

It's where we get a peak into Tamara’s past and it's grim. You can see it all over Lucy’s face as Tamara speaks. How her heart is breaking for her. Killing her to think she ever had to do ‘swiping’. Hitting her like a ton of bricks. You can see the pre-tears in her eyes from hearing all this. The protective mama in her wanting to hug and protect her. To never let her experience that ever again. Tamara can't even look at them while she explains it. Breaks my heart.

Tim can read Lucy like a book once they’re back in the shop. They’re talking about the men they found on Becca’s phone but her mind is elsewhere. He knows she’s upset and asks her if she’s okay? I’ll never be over this portion of his growth. Him actively engaging in personal stuff with her. Giving her his advice and caring. Being 100 percent genuine in all of it too. My damn heart. He’s also just so damn good with her. Just like she is for him. The shop where they supposedly leave their personal lives at the door is a rule that never really existed for them.

He provides such a comforting environment for her to share in here. I love him being the one to reach out for this. Lucy engaging right away with him. Voicing everything she was feeling about their convo with Tamara. How it worried her that Tamara knew right away about the swiping idea. Asking Tim’s opinion if he thinks she’s used it herself? If she gave that impression to him?

Tim doesn’t answer so much as shoot a question back. Asking if she’s ever mentioned it to her before? You can hear the hurt in her voice. See the pain in her eyes as she speaks. Telling Tim as close as they are she won’t talk to her about her past. I can see why Lucy would be hurt by this. I can also see why Tamara doesn’t want to talk about it. She probably feels shameful about some of what she did to survive. I can only imagine what she had to do pre-Lucy.

Tim’s reply is perfection. What I love most about it is that it’s coming from experience. At least that’s how it’s coming off to me. We all know how hard it was for Lucy to crack the nut that is Tim. How she scratched and clawed for him to open up to her. Tim had a painful past and lot of reasons to be closed off. But that didn’t stop Lucy from pursuing that relationship with him. It was slow but so very worth it. Tim telling her not to take it personally.

That it might just be hard for to open up to her. It’s not Lucy it’s Tamara's own stuff preventing her from doing so. Just like it was for Tim. Lucy kept knocking at that door till Tim answered. Now look at him. He shares things with her. Deeply personal things. Is giving her advice on her own personal life. Look how far we’ve come. It’s these moments I love the most. The ones that show us how damn far Tim has come. How far they have come as a pairing.

It’s unreal to watch and so rewarding. It’s why the slow burn works so damn well for them. We get moments like this. Where Tim sees she is upset, reaches out, and even relieves her worries. Also once again using his past experience to help her out. Knowing it was hard for him to start to open up with her. That took time for him too. Applying that to his advice for Tamara not opening up just yet. You can see she feels lighter after their talk. Nodding her head agreeing with his advice. Relieving her of her worries for the time being at least. Tim being every bit the supportive husband here and I love it sfm. The emotional intimacy between these at this point is off the charts amazing. *sigh* I love them so much.

They return to the station to watch interrogation. Lopez has one of Becca’s clip talk guys in the box. Angela comes right at him. Doesn't waste time after he admits he knows her. Saying she knows he used clip talk for sex. In exchange she got warm bed and a meal out of it. He is instantly defensive. Thinking he’s been brought in for something she did or said. Is an ass outright calling her crazy cause she’s homeless and possibly on drugs.

Lopez cuts him right off saying she’s dead. Asking where he was last night? He stumbles and says he has nothing to do with it. That he did see her for few minutes but his GF was coming over. (Classy SOB..) Angela asks what she wanted? He says hot meal, shower, place to stay. But told her to go cause his GF was on the way. I love the way Tim leans forward as they get to heart of his story. He continues on saying Becca threatened to tell his GF if he didn’t give her money.

Telling Lopez all he had was a 20 dollar bill on him to give her. After she left he said he noticed Becca swiped his Cerus Watch. Which he paid 10K for. Lopez following up saying he couldn’t file a police report or it would expose his secret. Lopez cycles back to our couple. Lucy telling her she didn’t have a watch on her body. That she either sold it or whoever killed her took it and did. Tim says they'll ask Tamara where they think it would be pawned.

We find Tamara catching up with her old life. Visiting with friends she knew. My guess is she felt guilty about not talking to Becca all these months. Wanting to reconnect to help herself grieve. One of her friends telling her how proud Becca was of her. That she missed her but was so happy to see her move on. It’s then we see Tim and Lucy pull up. They all get nervous and Tamara tells them they’re cool.

Lucy is in mom mode asking how she is? Tamara tells her it’s a lot to be back here. She is trying to put up a brave front. Pretend she’s ok. So she avoids saying anymore by asking if they found anything? They update her on the watch Becca took. Asking her if she know where she would pawn it? Love Lucy seeing her hesitancy and reassuring her it’s ok. Also not wanting to leave her there. In full mom mode I adore it. Not wanting to leave her there but not having much of a choice atm.

They head to the pawn shop Tamara suggested. Tim doesn’t mess around or mince words with the owner. Saying they’re looking for a stolen Cerus watch. The owner gets defensive and says they just come into his shop accusing him of this? Lucy comes right at him too.

A tag team of confidence and unity. I love it. Her reply is feisty af. ‘Of purchasing stolen property from homeless teenagers? We are accusing you of exactly that.’ Get em Lucy! Gah love them being this bad ass united front. This guy goes off on a rant how he’s a lifeline for these kids. Lucy shows him the pic of Becca. Tells him this watch is what got her killed. He sighs and pulls it out to show them.

Saying it was brought in yesterday and shows them who brought it in. It wasn’t Becca….it was the kid Tamara was visiting. The look of realization washes over them. That beautiful silent communication of theirs kicking in. A shared look of worry washing over them. Tim asking isn’t that Tamara’s friend? The one they just left her with...

We cut back to Tamara talking to him. Asking if he’s ok? He say no. She starts to apologize she hasn’t been around. We see Tim and Lucy racing to get back to her. Such great cinematography in this scene. Declan starting his confession and it flits back to a worried Tim and Lucy. They're trying to get back to her as soon as they can. You can see the panic/urgency written across both of their faces.

Declan tells her how Becca was going to go back to school. Use the watch to get her started with it. She wanted to be more like Tamara. He starts to get emotional saying she was going to leave him too. You can see the shift in Tamara as she see’s where this is going. How he mentions he tried to sneak the watch out. That she caught him and he pushed her and didn’t mean for her to hit her head like she did. It’s then Lucy and Tim roll up like the BAMFS they are. Lucy all but jumping out of the shop to get to Tamara.

Tim cuffing him immediately. Once he's secure Lucy turns to her asking her if is she’s ok? Not expecting the response that she gets. Tamara finally putting down her walls and being honest. That she isn’t ok and runs to Lucy for comfort. I love this hug and Tamara finally turning to Lucy and being vulnerable. Lucy’s reaction is so sweet as she holds her tight. Such a nice moment for them. Adding to that growing familial bond between them.

The clown catches Lucy on her way out. I hate writing about him but I also don’t love writing about Ashley either. But they are apart of this season thus in my reviews when I have to. Lucy is straight with him. Says she isn’t in the mood for anymore bad news. He tells her he cut a good deal for Tyler. That he won’t have to be a CI. Just 6 months in Juvie. Probation till 18.

Clearly trying to impress her with this deal. Because let’s be honest if he had his way that kid would’ve been screwed. He did this to get on her good side. To me Chris was always kinda clueless but a little manipulative as well. I.e. This deal to impress her. Never liked him or thought he was good enough to be in her presence let alone date her.

This scene is a good bookend to how the episode began with Tamara’s gratefulness. Except this ending portion is a lot more sincere. No jokes involved. Makes me emotional as she thanks Lucy for everything she’s given her. Tamara thanks her for helping her leave it all behind as well. That if not for her she could've ended up just like Becca. Their scenes are always so good. Thanking Lucy for getting her friend justice.

Lucy not taking credit for that. Saying she did that for her. It’s true she guided them most of the investigation. Without her tips and such it would’ve taken them so much longer. I love Lucy telling her she doesn’t need to worry about what could’ve been without her. That’s she’s safe now ❤️ This next bit is so good. Lucy bringing up talking about her time on the street.

Tamara telling her not right now. Lucy bringing up she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t even have to with her. Just someday talking to someone would be good. So it doesn’t sneak up on her. Because it will. She is not wrong...It did for me. I took too long to talk to someone myself. I had a random run in with a sweet old lady who was a client of mine. She commented on my earrings. Asking where I got them? I said my mom with no real emotions attached to it. She looked me in the eye and said ‘Your mother must love you very much.’ I wanted to cry because I wasn't sure how true that was.

I swallowed my complicated emotions and my racing thoughts. I thanked her. But it triggered something in me when I got back to my car and I cried. Because it brought up all the emotions and feelings I hadn’t talked about with my mom. I texted my baby sister about it. She told me it was time to seek some therapeutic help. I did and it's helped so very much. So Lucy is so very right if you don’t talk about it. Suppress it for too long it sneaks up on you.

This is such solid advice once again from Lucy. Therapy and talking it out does wonders for the soul. Because if you don’t It’ll eat at you slowly. Take away from your present. Such a lovely way to end the episode for them both. I always love me some Tamara/ Lucy eps.

~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

James and Nyla being cute af. I truly love them together. They work so well.

Also more cute James/ Wes moments about the pregnancy and such. I do love their bromance so.

54 notes · View notes