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captainfern · 1 year

Text

Heart-Shaped Box

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Heart-Shaped Box” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price gets injured during a mission. you help him feel better lol. • rating - 18+ [mdni] • wordcount - 3.7k • warnings - fem!reader, a bit of sub!price, unprotected piv, praise kink [price is called a good boy], oral [m!receiving], orgasm denial? idk probably, riding, mentions of threesome, strong language, a bit of violence/blood

that gif makes me fucking feral

i want him and his silly hat

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The taskforce had been separated, having each pursued completely different targets. Comms were down and that left you hauntingly alone.

You had hunted down your target. Piece of cake. But now, leaving his body submerged in a flooded ditch, you walked aimlessly though the long grass of a sprawling paddock.

Every few minutes, you tapped at the communication collar around your throat. You called to your comrades— Ghost, Soap, Gaz— but no one responded. Static filled your ears.

With an angry huff, you switched the device on and off again, before giving up entirely. The sun would set in a couple of hours, and you did not want to be stranded alone in unknown countryside.

Up ahead, a woodland. It was shadowed, tall trees brushing the dusky blue sky. There were no houses in sight, and you were beginning to grow tired.

When you reached the tree line of the woodland, your comms erupted in a burst of static that made you flinch. A patchy voice filtered into your ear, and you clawed desperately at the buttons on your collar in a poor attempt to improve the quality.

“Sergeant? You copy?”

It was Price. Well thank fuck for that.

You felt like you wanted to sob, throat stinging as the deep vibrato of his voice soothed something within you.

“Copy,” you breathed a sigh of relief. “Where are you?”

“At one of the safe houses. Are the boys with you?”

“No, no, it’s just me.”

You heard Price curse, then: “So you’re alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, tell me where you are. Describe your surroundings for me.”

You did as you were told. The sun was setting in front of you. There was a darkening woods in front of you too, with rolling green paddocks stretching to your left and right. Behind you was a desolate dirt track, complete with a flooded ditch, and a dead insurgent.

“Head towards the sun, straight through the woods,” Price instructed. “Cross the stream and keep walking. You’ll see the house.”

Ever the loyal soldier, you did exactly as you were told.

•°•

As the sun began to set, you stumbled through the front door of a small farmhouse, evidently falling apart at the edges. The brick exterior was encrusted thick with lichen, and the wooden window frames were weathered and crumbling.

Price had made himself comfortable inside; lounging on a dusty old couch in front of a raw brick fireplace. He hadn’t lit it, but judging by the smoke, he settled for puffing on a cigar.

It hung loosely from his lips as he turned his head to face you, a newspaper folded across his lap.

“You killed the insurgent?” Was the first thing he said.

You ripped off your comms collar angrily, spitting out a bitter yes before dropping your pack and walking into the kitchen. You got yourself a glass of water and gulped it down, placing the glass into the sink before walking into the main room of the farmhouse.

You slumped onto the other end of the couch. Price watched you, one arm stretched out along the backrest; the other moving to hold his cigar aloft as he puffed out a cloud of greyish smoke.

“I heard from the boys about twenty minutes ago,” Price said, thumbing the waxy paper of his cigar. “They’re an hour east. Together. We’ll regroup in the morning.”

You nodded, eyes drifting closed. The mission adrenaline had run out, and exhaustion was creeping into your bones.

You heard Price chuckle. “Tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Get some rest,” he said, tossing the remains of his cigar into the empty fireplace. “You deserve it.”

•°•

It was very, very early when you woke up with a start. It was still pitch black outside, constellations twinkling overhead. You blinked through the darkness of the room you were in, straining your ears as you listened to rummaging somewhere down the hall.

You got out of bed, snatching your pistol from off the nightstand, creeping out the door and down the hall. A flickering light was on in the main room of the farmhouse, and you poked your head warily around the corner.

Price was awake, sitting on the couch. He was sitting in just his work pants; his chest bare and, you realised, smeared with blood. You entered the room and put your pistol on the kitchen countertop as you passed it.

Grunting in pain beneath his breath, Price was attempting to wrap a wound on his shoulder. Dark rivers of blood flowed from his bruised flesh, down his pec and along the soft lines of his stomach.

“You didn’t tell me you were hurt.” You said, approaching him.

“Didn’t think it mattered.” He replied, not looking at you.

You sighed, sitting next to him on the couch. He finally looked at you, complexion pale in the flickering light.

“Can I help you?” You nodded at the wound and, with a small grunt, Price angled his body towards you.

It was a stab wound. Not too big, not too deep, but still enough that blood was oozing continuously. You picked up from where he left it: wrapping fresh gauze around the wound as tight as possible without cutting circulation.

“How does that feel?” You asked, running your fingers gently over the gauze.

He huffed, a breath of cigar smoke and mint. “Good, love. Good.”

You ignored the term of endearment, but suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were to sitting on your captain’s lap: legs brushing, chest just inches from his. His breathing fluttered the baby hairs near your forehead.

You cleared your throat. “Did you want some pain relief? I can check my pack. I should have some morphine somewhere, or maybe ketamine—”

He shook his head with a grimace. “I’m alright. Just… just sit with me for a bit.”

“Oh…” You blinked up at him. “Okay. Yeah.”

He exhaled through his nose, reclining in the chair and closing his eyes. You watched the way his chest rose and fell, strong abdomen moving up and down. It was still streaked with blood, so an idea came to mind.

You pattered into the kitchen, grabbed a cloth and wet it, entering the main room once more. You then began to clean Price’s blood away. Price jolted when the wet cloth hit his bare skin.

“What are—?”

“Just cleaning you up.”

“You don’t have—”

“It’s fine, captain. I really want to help.”

His eyes darkened, but he said nothing else. He just watched you clean the blood out of his skin. Once you disposed of the cloth, you retook your place on the couch beside him. He was appraising you with a curious look. One that made you suddenly shy.

“Is… is there anything else I can do to help you?” You asked, voice quiet.

There were several things you wanted to do for him. Things you had thought about for months. But, he was your boss, your captain, and you should be ashamed to ever think—

“A kiss better would be nice.”

Excuse me.

You stared at him, waiting for him to laugh and reveal that, haha, it was a joke. Hilarious!

…But he didn’t.

He peered down at you through long lashes, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his lips. You met his gaze, confused. But you could feel your cheeks growing embarrassingly hot.

“You…? Are you joking?” You whispered, dumbfounded and at a loss for any other words to express yourself.

He shook his head gently. “No, this is a serious matter, sergeant. I do believe a kiss would make me feel a lot better.”

You bit your lip, and Price followed the movement with dilated pupils. “Just… okay, just a kiss?” You uttered, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“Just a kiss.” He whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe what the fuck he was saying.

Steeling your nerves, you leaned in and cupped his face, placing your lips gently to his. He hummed, satisfied, as he kissed you back. After a few thumping beats of your heart, you pulled away. He pressed his forehead to yours and you both breathed hard.

You stared at each other, consumed by each other’s space, presence. You could feel how warm he was. How safe he was.

“I think I might need a bit more than that to really make sure I’m feeling better.” Price quipped, before slamming his mouth back onto yours.

He dragged his tongue along the seam of your lips and you parted them: allowing him access. He deepened the kiss and lifted his good arm, resting a large hand on the back of your head. His not-so-good arm found a gentle place on your hip.

“We shouldn’t…” You gasped.

“You want to stop?”

“No.”

He smiled against your mouth, tongue smoothing against yours. “Didn’t think so.”

You whined into the kiss, and he groaned out in response. Everything about him was warm: his mouth, his tongue, his hands. You were heating up at the way he held you to him. Your mind was hazy, dizzy with lust.

“Shit—” Price pulled back to growl, shifting his injured shoulder away. You flinched, suddenly remembering that he was, in fact, still injured.

“Captain, oh my god, I am so sorry—”

“Wasn’t you, love,” he grimaced, leaning his back against the couch. He took a deep breath. “Just stings a bit.”

“I offered you pain relief—”

“And I refused.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stubborn bastard.”

He chuckled darkly. “Is that any way to talk to your captain?” He then gestured to his lap, urging you to sit. You looked at him challengingly. You were suddenly in the mood to challenge your captain. Great idea, sergeant.

“What do you want?” You asked, faux innocence in your tone. “You’ve got to tell me, captain.”

You expected a snide reply. A witty comeback that would get you all hot and flustered. But instead, he groaned, low in his throat.

“Want you.”

It took a few seconds for you to comprehend his tone. The need in his voice. The whine. You fought a smile from your face.

“Want me? Want me to do what?” You slid closer, a hand on his thigh. “Come on, Price. You’re my captain for a reason. Give me proper orders.”

He was breathing heavily. Panting as he stared at you. His cock was hard, tenting his pants. When he responded, his voice was hoarse, strained with pleasure and tobacco smoke. “Want you to suck my cock.”

You smiled, slipping off the couch and onto your knees in front of him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You mused, shuffling between his spread legs and beginning to unzip his pants. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you used the motion to slip his pants further down his legs.

You leaned closer, running your fingers along the waistband of his boxers, just skimming the solid imprint of his cock. He huffed above you, breathing erratically as he watched you.

“Please, love. Come on.”

You hummed, dipping your hand into his boxers and pulling his cock free. When your fingers enclosed around him, Price let out a low moan, shooting his good hand down to grip your hair.

“Fuck sake—” He choked as you pressed a kiss to his tip, flushed red and already leaking.

You smiled to yourself. He was warm and throbbing in your hand and you realised that you did that. You made your captain like this.

“Use that pretty mouth, love, come on.” Price breathed, pushing your head gently. Your lips nudged his tip again and he sighed. “Want your mouth.”

You obliged, wrapping your lips around him and dragging them downwards. He groaned deeply, fingers tight in your hair as you took his cock deeper into the heat of your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat and you resisted the urge to gag, tears appearing in your waterline.

“So good, so good…” Price was mumbling as you began a comfortable pace; bobbing up and down with his hand in your hair. He wasn’t altering your pace in any way. His hand simply remained a firm comfort.

You felt his thighs flex beside your head, hips twitching as you sucked. Saliva pooled past your lips, down the length of him. You used a hand to smear it around the base. He cursed at that, sending a throb of arousal to your cunt.

“So good, love,” he repeated, pupils blown as he looked down at you. “Better than I imagined. Fucked my fist to the thought of your mouth so many times, jus’ thinking about your pretty lips wrapped all nice around my cock.”

You blinked tears away from your eyes and he moved his injured arm to your face. He wiped the tears with his thumb. He then pressed his thumb to the seam of your lips, feeling where his cock was essentially choking you. You whined up at him, and he smiled back.

“Such a good sergeant, sucking her captain’s cock.” He said, retracting his hand.

He had gained a bit of cockiness, noted. But you smiled internally. That wouldn’t last.

You quickened your pace, swirling your tongue around his cock until you felt it twitching in your mouth. He had gone quiet now— words replaced by airy grunts and groans as he held your head, bucking his hips. He was close, judging by the way his tip flooded pre along your tongue, and how his fingers began to tighten in your hair.

“Love, gonna—”

You pulled away, gripping his cock firmly at the base. He let out a soft gasp, wrenching his eyes open to look down at you. You licked your lips, saliva dripping down your chin. You wiped it away with the back of your hand.

He frowned at you. “What—?”

“Consider that punishment for not telling me you were hurt.” You battered your eyelashes at him as you crawled onto his lap, still holding his cock.

It was wet with your saliva, the tip flushed red. It was hot in your hand, twitching against your palm as both of you looked down at it. Price rested his forehead against yours, breath coming in pants as you lazily started stroking him. Your soft touch, your warmth, your perfume. You were going to be the death of him.

“Need you love, please.” He whispered, shifting his forehead to rest in the crook of your neck. He kissed the skin above your shirt, sucking a hickey onto the sensitive flesh.

You withheld a moan. “Need what? Need me to do what? You’ve gotta tell me, captain. Come on.”

He whined into your neck. Your cunt throbbed at that. Skimming his teeth along your neck, he pulled back, lips flushed and eyes glassy as he looked up at you. He had both his hands on the small of your back, pushing you closer to him.

“Need your cunt,” he whined, low. “Need that tight fucking cunt around my cock. Need to feel it, love, please.”

Who were you to deny your captain of his request?

You slowly, tantalisingly brought your shirt over your head. With no bra, your tits fell freely in front of his face and you saw his eyes light up like a teenage boy. His mouth was immediately on them, sucking bruising marks around your nipples.

You let a groan slip past your lips as you worked your pants off, struggling but eventually managing to slide them onto the floor while still situated on Price’s lap. When you had done that, he was finishing his hickeys on your other breast, chest moving rapidly against you.

“Perfect,” He whispered as he pulled away, moving his hands to cup your tits. “You’re absolutely perfect, aren’t you, sergeant?”

“Only for you, captain.” You took his good hand and guided it down to your underwear. You pushed his fingers against your clothed core, leaning towards him and moaning softly in his ear.

“Feel how wet you make me,” you purred. “I’ve fucked myself so many times thinking about you, your fingers, your cock. Wanted you for so long.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grit his teeth, rubbing your wet core through the cotton of your underwear. He then moved them to the side, rubbing a finger along your slit with a groan. “You’re soaked, love. Want my cock that bad, huh? What would the boys think if they saw how needy you were for their captain? Ghost would be beside himself.”

You smiled, biting back a moan. Your hands were around his neck, careful of his shoulder, and you steadied yourself, rocking gently in his lap. He watched you with a calculating gaze, and he tutted gently at you, still stroking your cunt with a thick finger.

“You naughty girl. You want the boys to know? Want Ghost to know?” He mused, angling his hips so your clothed cunt rubbed against his cock. “Want him to fuck you, too?”

You moaned.

He took that as your answer.

“Yeah? Want your lieutenant to fuck your tight cunt as well?” He ripped your underwear off your body, causing you to gasp, the impact stinging the sides of your thighs. “Want us both? Want Ghost and me? Naughty fucking girl, eh?”

You moaned, your plan to challenge your captain slipping away. But you were desperate to hold onto it. So, with one last shaky breath, you dragged his hand away from your throbbing cunt and turned the tables.

“You’d love it,” you said, sucking his finger into your mouth. “You’d love to watch Ghost fuck me, wouldn’t you? Love to see me come apart on his cock while you fuck my mouth. You’d love it, wouldn’t you, captain?”

You got him again.

He groaned, tossing his head back and bucking his hips to try and bring friction to his cock. But you lifted your hips, your dripping cunt just out of his reach. He moved his finger from your mouth and settled both hands on your hips.

He kissed you, and you let him. His tongue brushed against yours, claiming. His taste was intoxicating.

“Let me take care of you.” You said softly as you pulled away.

He nodded, resting comfortably on the couch with his hands on your hips. You positioned yourself with your entrance above his cock. Gripping him, you ran his tip through your wet folds, causing him to release a noise, a mix between a sigh and a growl.

“Be a good boy, captain, and let me take care of you.” You whispered as you sank down on his cock.

The noise that elicited from his mouth was jaw-dropping. He released a breathy moan, followed by a series of deep pants as you slowly, slowly dragged yourself back up, and then slammed yourself back onto him. He screwed his eyes shut, head tossed over the back of the couch as you moved against him. He was puffing out small moans, deep from his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that—” he whined, gripping your hips harder. “Just like that, love. Fuck, feels so good on my cock. Taking me so— ha—fuck— good, love.”

You were making him a whiny mess beneath you. Mission successful, you smiled as you fucked yourself on his cock. The blunt head of it slammed repeatedly into the spot inside you that made you moan and soak him even more. Butterflies flew around your insides. The insides of your belly were growing hot.

Price opened his eyes, looking down at where his cock entered you again and again. “Taking my cock so well, love. Look at you. So good for me. So good for your captain.”

Your cunt ached around his cock, clit pulsing with its own heartbeat. You were sensitive and needy and really wanted to cum. The sensations inside you were building, but you wanted to try something again—

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you, Price?” You squeezed his cock tighter. “Such a good boy, fucking me so good. Isn’t that right?”

A beat passed and you wondered if you’d crossed a line. But—

He let out a loud, breathy whine: something that did not sound like it belonged to him. He stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, moaning into your skin, whimpering softly as he rutted into you harder.

“Yeah, love. I’m your good boy.” It was quiet, almost inaudible, but it was there.

Enough so that your orgasm hit you out of nowhere and you came with a moan of his name. You burst around his cock, cum splattering through his pubic hair and up the line of hair on his abdomen.

He groaned into your neck, thrusts sloppy and erratic and desperate. He dragged his teeth along your skin.

“Gonna cum, love. Please— ha, shit— let me cum inside you— hngh— please.” He mumbled against your neck.

Becoming slightly overstimulated— he was fucking you hard, after all— you nodded feverishly. “Cum inside me, Price. Wanna feel you.”

With one last dragged-out moan, he came, your name on his lips.

Ropes of warmth filled you, flooding around his cock as he breathed frantically against your neck. It spilled out onto his lap, making the backs of your thighs all sticky.

Gently, you rubbed his back with one hand, massaging his scalp with the other. He groaned lowly, still attached to your neck, lazily sucking another bruise there.

“Feel better?” You asked, holding him close to you as his hands moved from your hips, circling around your middle to push your body against his.

“Much better,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“S’all right. What kind of sergeant would I be if I didn’t look after my captain?”

He finally looked up, giving you a stern look. But you couldn’t take him seriously when his face was all flushed, eyes glossy and lips rouged. You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

A few quiet moments passed, basking in each other’s presence, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Then, Price cleared his throat. “So, you want Ghost to fuck you?”

“You like being called a good boy?”

He went quiet.

You laughed. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He pressed his head back into the slope of your neck. “Deal.”

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#captain price x reader #captain john price x you #cod price #price x reader #price smut #captain price smut #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #captain john price x female reader #captain john price #cod smut #fem reader #captain price #captainfern #captain’snirvana

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breannasfluff · 1 year

Note

fairy!! (Hyrule)

congrats on 500!!!!!!

“Wars? Can’t you teach me to sew?”

Hyrule glances up to watch Wild sit next to the captain, fabric in hand.

Warriors looks surprised as well, but puts aside the book he was reading. “Sure. What are you making?”

“Just need to learn some basic stitches.” The champion neatly avoids the question.

With a shrug, Warriors grabs the thread and string. “Ok, first you’re going to need to make a knot and…”

Hyrule rapidly loses interest in the description. He knows how to sew enough to mend rips, but not make new outfits. It’s too bad, because his fairy form is stuck with the same outfit time after time. While he can buy a new tunic, where is he going to get clothes sized for a fairy?

Still, it’s a silly need and Hyrule pushes it away. They’ve got bigger things to worry about.

Hyrule and Wild are wandering through the woods, enjoying both the peace and the time to explore. The champion keeps shooting him darting look; something clearly on his mind.

The traveler gives him a smile and lets him be. He’ll get to it when he’s ready.

“Hey, Roolie…” Well, he didn’t need to wait long at all. Wild stares at his slate screen, then finally taps it for something to materialize. “Here.”

“What?” He’s not expecting something small shoved into his hands.

Wild’s clearly embarrassed. “Sorry it’s not better quality.”

“Hey, let me actually look at the thing first.” Hyrule holds up the item, but can’t hold back a frown as he tries to figure it out. It’s a small tube with a little elastic on one side.

“Wow,” he says, because what in Hyrule is it?

“Oh, here’s the other part.” Wild passes over another piece of fabric.

Rather than help, this only adds to the confusion. It’s an even smaller tube, stretchy, with two long strips attached to one end.

Hyrule juggles the pieces before finally turning to Wild with a sheepish look. “Ok, I give up, can you explain it?”

If Wild was embarrassed before, he’s rapidly turning red as a tomato. “It’s…clothes.”

Clothes. Tiny…clothes? Why would Hyrule need–

“You know, for your fairy form. Thought you might like something new.”

Oh! Hyrule stares at the items in his hand again, mentally adjusting the size. He’s so used to his fae side being a secret that it never crossed his mind.

“You…you made me clothes? New clothes?”

Wild plucks the items back and holds them up for explanation. “This is a skirt. I know it’s simple but…I’m not great at sewing. And this is a top. See, the strips are so you can wrap it in different styles around your arms or neck. I saw it in Gerudo Town once and it seemed pretty cool.”

The rest of the explanation slowly fades away as Hyrule stares at the clothes. Wild…learned to sew…for him? The stitching isn’t perfect and the shapes are simple, but it doesn’t matter. Wild made something just for him, for a secret that no one else knows.

“Wild,” he interrupts whatever rambling story Wild has moved on to. Hyrule makes sure to catch his eye when he says, “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

The champion ducks his head with a shy smile. “Want to try them on?”

“Absolutely. Now give them here!”

#three sentence prompt #lu hyrule #lu wild #fae hyrule #fairy hyrule #linked universe #this got long but I couldn't resist #fae hyrule my beloved

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yuichi-ro · 2 years

Text

jinpachi ego x fem!Reader

cw: third perosn POV, plus size!Reader, sub!Reader, dom!Ego, established relationship, watersports, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, cervix fucking, creampie, multiple orgasms, unedited word count: 2k

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨, 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙠, 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝘿𝙉𝙄

With a grin curling itself on his face as each finger swished in tandem against the velvety walls of her spasming core, Jinpachi couldn't help lick his lips at the sight. Held before him, not in his palm but writhing on his fingers as they stirred emotions and pleasure from her in a single get go. He kept his greed close to him as his ego grew in size at the mere pathetic sight standing above him. A firm grip on her thigh to stabilize her erratic hips from moving too far away from him. He would decide when she could move. And when she'd experience pure bliss.

"Is that all?" He tone short, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose only to shift on his face when he looked up at her, "Well?" A forceful thrust into her core meant the woman's moan was ripped from her lips before she even realized it. A beautiful noise but not the answer he was looking for.

"No no no! It's not-" Her breathing hitched when both pads of his fingers pressed towards the back near her cervix in a total one eighty of how he had them. Those longer fingers long since tapping away at the keyboard in front of him. Now wrapped in comfort and warmth as he took his time fingering her up to this point of insanity. Sending a shiver right up her spine leading to her needing to grip his shoulders for dear life when her legs wanted to give out on her. Half lidded eyes shrouded in nothing but pure animalistic pleasure were cast down on him as he slowed his fingers and she was able to get another few words in, "Your- Fuck- I have to pee- You keep-"

Not an ounce of hesitation in his fluid motions. Those fingers that ravaged her core once again made the woman above him form a death grip on his shoulders and wiggle her hips as she so clearly struggled to stay standing on her feet above him like such. Crooked grin on his face Jinpachi leaned in and licked up the stretch marks on her thigh before slowing his fingers again, "You'll piss yourself? All over my hand like this? Over my fingers? Please-" His smile curled up to his ears and without warning he twisted his wrist so those same finger pads that had brushed against her cervix now threatened the very spot that would make her warning a reality, "Don't give me such an ego boost."

His word play earned a glare but that was short lived. He puppeted her pleasure like it was second nature to him. Curling his fingers against her bladder in the fleeting enjoyment of each lewd noise that made it past her lips. Growing in noise and in disgust for such a sight. He reveled in it without a care if his coworker was dumb enough to not heed his warning about quality time with his wife. It was in his contract after all, that he got the free time to do exactly as he pleased without interruptions.

"Jinpachi-" The weak excuse of a plea broke him from his enjoyment of the midday frolic. Above him the face of a woman at her limit. One he loved to be the cause of. And as she clenched and fought off the advancing pleasure, he was about to show her just how wonderful bullying his contract with Blue Lock was for the both of them.

"Do it." He demanded with a quickening of his fingers plunging inside her.

"W-What-?"

Jinpachi licked his lips asserting he knew her body better than she did at this very moment. Refusing to let up on his fingering, abusing the parts of her that made her twist his shirt and whine his name. Pressing his lips to the stretch marks scattered across her belly as he somehow got them deeper within her without letting up on the pressure on her bladder, "Do it." He mumbled against her belly, "Piss down my arm. Absolute filthiness of it all. I want to feel it."

Drowning in his words as well as his actions she still struggled to hold onto sanity and the one thing eating away at her, "But the clean up-"

"I don't care-" Jinpachi snapped. Reaching to gather the closest pile of his dirty laundry he'd yet to kick out of the way. Puzzling her but not letting her think as he didn't stop his fingers. Until there was a pile of his own clothes under both of them as well as scooting closer under her, "I'll make someone else clean it up. Won't tell anyone- It's not our job after all. So do it. Piss down my arm. Be a good girl for me."

That was it. He did know her body better than she did. Each second that was a struggle somehow only made the gush of liquid all that much more arousing. Fighting it to the bitter end even after he demanded it. Jinpachi curled his fingers just a bit more against her bladder and won the struggle between the two of them.

The warm liquid immediately made his fingers squelch when he pushed them inside her through it. He saw no reason to let up on it. Fingering her just as fervently as he had been up to this point. Getting what he wished for as her thighs jiggled and trembled as the pleasure his fingers gave her skittered up and down her spine and throughout her entire body. Belly sucking in a choking breath as the waterfall of piss rolled down his pale arms. Quick to soak into the rolled up bit of his black work shirt. And overflowing from there. Until it endlessly streamed down his arm and dripped onto the dirty laundry under the both of them just as he planned. A light sprinkle turned into the woman above him letting everything out as she gasped for a breath and was left trembling in pleasure until the last droplet of piss rolled down the twitching tendons of his forearm.

"Sit down." Jinpachi demanded without context except for the quick removal of his fingers the second she stopped peeing.

"Wait- Hold on I-" She protested only for the simple fact she was trying to recover from whatever the hell he'd just done to her. It wasn't for long though as he didn't blink an eye using his piss covered hands to grab her wrists and urge her down to him.

In the haze of the only thing that could be explained as an orgasm, she hadn't noticed how quickly he'd unzipped and pulled down his pants. Realizing what he really meant by sit when Jinpachi had her lean into his chest just so he could reach down and position himself at her piss soaked entrance. And if his fingers hadn't been enough to unearth every overly sensitive nerve in her cunt, the quick push of his cock deep within her twitching walls reawoken the maddening pleasure he'd held above her head the entire time he fingered her.

"Fuck..." The first hiss of pleasure from the man under her. Facade nowhere near cracking though. Jinpachi forced her into his chest as both hands encircled her sides and spread her ass apart so she was forced to sit down on every inch of his aching cock. His own shaken breath filled his lungs when Jinpachi rutted up into her soaked insides. Piss and slick mixed together to make it that much easier to push his cock right up against his mark.

A twitch of his cock against her cervix and Jinpachi groaned when she tucked her face in his neck. Almost like relief. And with the growing scent of piss emanating from under them as well as staining their skin together. Both of them didn't stop there. His hands held her hips down when she sat up a little. Jinpachi relaxing back in the clusterfuck of dirty clothes to admire the sight above him. Wasting that little time before bucking his hips up into her just to see the twisted contorted face of pleasure so easily cock drunk on him after all these years.

"F-Fuck-" She exhaled through clenched teeth while dragging her fingers down his clothed chest, "Fuck you." Said with a smile and no real authority behind it. They both couldn't stop grinning at one another before Jinpachi took it a step further.

Rutting deep as he could manage. Using her weight to his advantage. He loved the soft squishiness of her core spasming around him. Just as wonderful as he thought it would be if she'd let loose a little. The retired soccer player felt her tense above him at the same moment a tightness crept into his belly. He'd really only have one shot at this. But a man with so much ego had little to doubt about himself.

Fucking her above him. Jinpachi needed to tell her to do little. Doing so on her own as she reached down to find her piss soaked clit. Slimy with juices and the little bit of pee that still clung to her. She had no qualms about rubbing herself to the rhythm of his strokes. Untouched clit begging for this attention after Jinpachi purposely neglected her bud of nerves for such a long time. And then to force her to cum vaginally like this. It was something only an egotistical maniac could manage. Along with the next one building inside her with each gasp that passed her lips.

"Jinpachi- Fuck- Fuck I can't- I-" Babbling nonesense did not slow his thrusts. In fact that only made him hold on to the way his cock curved right in at the perfect moment each time their hips met.

It couldn't last. And it wouldn't.

"S-Shit-" Dark eyes rolling to the back of his head for a moment of pure bliss. Jinpachi took what was his when he slammed his hips up into her. Orgasm exploding in his own senses. And fucking her right through that as cum drooled out around his cock with each spurt deeper inside. She only needed those handful of more strokes before another orgasm took her as well. Dryer than the one before. But twice as violent. The erratic rubbing of her clit assured how tight her walls got around his cock. Milking him of every last drop cum. What wasn't gooey around his cock as his thrusts slowed, was pushed up deeper into her as the last little bits of their orgasm finished.

Piss and cum stained work clothes under both of them. Jinpachi didn't let her get a word in edgewise at what had just happened as a hand came behind her head and pulled her down to him. Kiss as raunchy as the sex they just had. He kissed her hard until she gave way to moans and his greed of sucking on her tongue as she wiggled and couldn't even think straight. Still throbbing after such an orgasm. His cock still inside her, no help. When she was finally able to break away from his siren like spell, all that waited for her was a grin.

"What?" He pushed her down on his cock and enjoyed the bit of fucked out bliss that still crossed her face.

Fistful of laundry as she held herself up above him, she shook her head still trying to recoup from the very first orgasm, "Don't what me, you ass."

Jinpachi snaked his hands up her thighs and didn't hesitate to have his hands on her tits when he squeezed them with a grin, "Wanna go again?"

With filth under both of them. And a long deserved bath after this bullshit he pulled. There was no reason in ending the fun early anyways, "Sure." She said, wiggling herself on his cock and watching the partially overstimulated man roll his head back in bliss, "But you're picking this up."

Eyes closed Jinpachi still couldn't stop grinning, "If it'll benefit me, I'll do anything."

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk ego #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock ego #ego jinpachi #ego jinpachi smut #ego jinpachi x reader #jinpachi ego #jinpachi ego smut #jinpachi ego x reader #tw:watersports

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scaredofstyrofoam · 1 year

Text

*tap for better quality rip* Sans as a human:

#undertale #sans #sans au #fresh sans #undertale fanart #sans undertale #sans fanart #papyrus #papyrus fanart

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alexihawleys · 10 months

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Chenford + Tim sees Lucy on a date and turns up at her door.

Lucy doesn't expect Tim to be sitting outside her door when she gets home.

She's not upset about it, exactly, but she doesn't expect it either.

He doesn't notice her right away, so she gives herself a moment to take him in – if she's dealing with a certain type of Tim, she wants to know ahead of time.

He's wearing a pair of jeans with a rip at the cuff that she knows is from getting snagged on a chain-link fence when they'd been walking back to their hotel after a night out in San Antonio, Tim running ahead and trying to rile her up and make her feel better after fucking up in the preliminaries.

For the record: she'd made it through, but by the skin of her teeth after bombing her second-to-last obstacle.

Tim's head is tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed, and the sharp line of his jaw tracing down to the tension in his neck makes Lucy frown.

He looks upset, which she doesn't love.

"Hey," she calls out as she makes her way down the hall, and Tim snaps his head up, raising his brows. "You looking for somebody?"

He offers up a smile and she can feel the relief in it. "Hey," he hops up to his feet, his limbs long, working quickly. "No, no way," he frowns, fake, not reaching his eyes which are still very much smiling back at her. "Just happened to be in the area."

"And, what," she pulls her phone from her back pocket, waving it around as she reaches him, "you couldn't call and see if I was around before I dropped in?"

"I," he scratches at the back of his neck and she squints up at him. "I mean, I figured-,"

"Why are you nervous right now?" Lucy laughs, shoving at his arm before digging through her bag for her keys. Tim mumbles something unintelligible and she unlocks her door, pushing it open and leaning against the frame to block him from following her in. "What's up?"

Tim slides his hands into his pockets, shrugging. "Nothing, nothing," he taps her shin with his foot. "What were you up to?"

"Oh," she waves her hand, "nothing. I mean, you saw me this morning, but after," she shrugs, "I ran errands, I went on a bad date, I grabbed a bottle of wine," she tugs the wine bottle from the top of her bag so he can see it. "You've just...been waiting for me?"

"I only got here," he squints around, then glances down at his watch, "half hour ago, or so. Figured you'd turn up at some point."

"Oh, what," she raises her brows, smirking up at him, "you don't think I'm capable of staying out all night, Tim?"

He snorts, rolling his eyes. "You have training at 5:45," Lucy groans as he continues, "I figured you were a sure thing for sleeping in your own bed."

She huffs, pushing the door open wider and leading Tim into her kitchen. She pulls the bottle of wine out of her bag and puts it on the counter, watching as Tim locks the door and kicks off his shoes. "Besides," he carries on, pulling two wine glasses down from one of her high shelves, "you looked pretty bored on that date, figured you'd need some quality entertainment by the time you got home."

Lucy freezes, her hand still digging into one of her kitchen drawers to pull out her corkscrew. She looks over her shoulder, squinting at him. She thought she'd seen a Tim-looking guy walk by the patio she'd been seated on with her date, John, but she'd shrugged it off and gone back to talking. John had been sweet, had asked her to dinner after they'd gotten to know each other during his first few training sessions at her gym, but he was definitely more of a friend than a flirtation.

Besides, she had Tim if she felt the need to flirt.

She glares at him, turning on her heel and pursing her lips as she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you doing, huh? Spying on me?"

He smirks, shrugging. "I was going to the pet store across the way for Kojo stuff," he offers. "I saw you and they were finishing up a fresh batch of those peanut butter treats he liked, so...I might've grabbed a coffee, scoped it out."

Lucy scoffs, squinting at him. "Spy," she points, shaking her head. "A dirty rotten scoundrel of a spy, Tim, oh my god."

He laughs, his neck going a bit red, and Lucy grabs the corkscrew out of the drawer, bumping it shut with her thigh before making her way over to him. "I'm just saying, you looked bored. Sad, even," he holds up a hand in innocence. "I figured you'd need...reinforcements, or something. I ordered Thai when I got here, should be here soon."

She rolls her eyes, giving him another faux-huff. She's not actually annoyed – she'd planned to call him after pouring herself a glass, anyway – but she thinks he should have to grovel a little. "I had a great time, thank you," she works the corkscrew into the bottle, ignoring the fact that she can feel Tim moving closer.

"You said it was bad," his voice is low, she can feel his breath on her ear. "Don't lie, now, Lucy."

She shivers, shutting her eyes but making sure her hands don't stop moving. "I'm not lying," she mutters. "Back off."

Tim chuckles and she swallows hard, annoyed because this is almost always what proximity to his fucking body does to her and she can't stand it. Whether he's adjusting her grip on the bars while they're training or he's cornering her in her kitchen about some dumb shit he did, he's annoyingly, agonizingly hot. "John's like fifty, you know that right?"

She elbows him in the ribs and Tim groans, but she feels him back away and lets out a laugh. "You're not much off," she smirks over her shoulder. "Now get this open for me, would you? We can talk about how many push-ups you owe me once I've got a full glass of wine in my hand."

Tim rolls his eyes at her, but there's a smile to it that makes her stomach flip as he grabs the corkscrew and gets to work.

#*fic #*5sentence #chenford #chenford fanfiction #c: tim bradford #c: lucy chen #tv: the rookie #ship: tim x lucy #anonymous #ask #hi so i know this isn't canon chenford but i couldn't really place this somewhere in canon in my head so! i went au #i hope that's ok with you! if not i'm sure there's someone else who could fill this prompt the way you'd like :)#anyway apparently this is american ninja warrior competitor chenford who have become v close friends training?? idk!!

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ittybittyluci · 4 months

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Luci Angst Fic Idea That’s Been Rattling Around In My Head

Okay, so, it’s no real secret that I absolutely love angst and Hurt/Comfort content. I slurp that shit up like there’s no tomorrow. And recently my darling brain has been so kind as to supply me a new concept that could be shoved into a whole number of Lucifer angst fics.

Basically the premise is this:

Part of Lucifer’s punishment is that every year on the same day, a member of the heavenly court (the same Angel every time) comes down to administer a little “reminder” to keep Lucifer in line. Basically, he gets tortured, and the shit beat out of him annually to make sure he stays depressed. The Angel that does this is called “The Punisher” and they are very strong, but also have cool mind fuckery powers that they use to really get inside Luci’s head.

Most of my ideas are Charlie (who doesn’t know) finding out about this when it happens after Luci moves into the hotel, and being absolutely MORTIFIED! Good old Father-Daughter time. U know the drill. Sometimes my brain even likes to be like “oh yeah, the day of/after his Punishment Day was the day Lilith took Charlie and left” because I just love to make him suffer so he can be sympathized w/. I’m just like that don’t fucking judge, it’s not as weird as u think. Maybe. Whatever.

Anyway, yeah. It’s BRUTAL!

Content warning below for descriptions of violence next for some of the things I imagine happening to him, as well as an illustration with a shit ton of gold blood all over the place.

- A lot of the times they will do stuff to his wings to be like “you don’t deserve these.” Either rip them off and force them to grow back, break them, and once (the time Charlie finds out) skinning them to take the feathers off. That one is particularly angsty and I can’t help but be drawn to the heartbreaking-ness of it.

- Lots of punching, kicking, hitting scratching, and throwing him around.

- Concentrated holy water or holy light or something to burn

- Lots of emotional degradation (not the kink, if that wasn’t obvious)

- Induced hallucinations of everyone he loves hating him

- And, u know, whatever new toys The Punisher comes up with.

Here’s a pretty little drawing too! Because I’m a terrible person (as always, Tumblr is gonna fuck up the quality and I’m not smart enough to know how to do ‘tap for higher resolution’ so here’s a link to a better version: tehe )

#hazbin hotel lucifer #i love luci #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #apple daddy #duck lord #short king #lucifer angst #angst #cw: gore #fanfic idea #I would read this #I’ve been imagining it for weeks now #sad boy #I’m sorry baby #I love u sm #but this is for me #he’s suffering

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crescentblossom66 · 14 days

Text

Elevated Memories

A little fic that was more or less done for the Dead Bird Studio discord server. It's once again an experiment where I wrote both Conductor's thoughts, which will be in purple, and also DJ Grooves' thoughts, which will be blue. The point of view switches twice, but it's obvious whose view it's from.

“CUT!!! CUTCUTCUTCUTCUT!!!” I feel a twinge of pain in me eye as I pop a vein, not surprising, given the terrible performance of me owls which nearly caused me ta tear out me feathers. The hatted lassie drops her revolver prop after having desperately tried to get a firm grasp on it, me yellin' likely the cause for her lack of focus. But how could I not yell after the disaster that happened right in front of me very eyes!

One job, these peck necks had the simple job of merely standin' 'round lookin' scared, and they even peck that up! One day I'll just drop dead due to an aneurysm, I swear on me mum! Scene forty two, the accursed number that haunts me nightmares and even me wakin' hours. We've been stuck filmin' that damn scene over and over till I can quote it word for word for the past 3 hours now. One time an owl knocked a cactus prop over (They'll get the repairs for that taken out of their wage, obviously), another time a line was mumbled until it was unrecognizable, making me yell at the lad and tell 'im ta take the towel out of his beak, and now this!

I look at the broken camera, murdered in cold electricity by a stray bullet from the owl that was playing the leader of the greatest bandit group that would ever be featured in a Western, no, in the entirety of cinematography!...given that I donnae suffer a stroke befer we finish it. Me feathers raise the longer I look at the broken lens of me camera, and I subsequently shift me gaze over ta the culprit who's quiverin', unmistakably aware that I'm gonna rip him a new one. “Ye dimwitted, feckless, spineless, piece o'-” I turn me gaze away from the sobbing, misty-eyed pile of misery that was squirming after I grab him by the collar, and turn it ta the young lassie that pulled me sleeve ta get me attention.

“Accidents happen, he didn't do it on purpose. I'm sure that I can fix the camera in my spaceship later.”

Later, LATER!!! I NEED THAT CAMERA NOW! I CANNAE WAIT TILL LATER! WE'LL BE BEHIND SCHEDULE!!! If we cannae record the scene, me lousy peck neck of a rival will dance smugly in front of me during the next studio meetin' and taunt me in front of everyone by tellin' me how slow I am at recordin'. At least I make sure that I create with quality and not shoddily! If I donnae have enough time, me movie will lack flourish and grandeur and if I lack that then...then...I'll lose again! I CANNAE LET THAT HAPPEN...EVER!!!

The lassie likely saw me right head-feathers twitch in anger, either that or she heard me grind me beak in frustration as her eyes showed a hint of distress. I take a deep breath ta calm down. Deep inhale...slow exhale, that's better. I place a talon on her shoulder gently, not wantin' ta strike fear inta the only actor I have that is actually worth her money...If I'd pay her, that was...which I don't...Exposure is payment too, right? Right! “Aye, yer right, lassie, but we cannae halt the recordin'. I think we still have a few of 'em in the basement.” The camera destroyer takes a sigh in relief that gets caught in his throat as me gaze briefly lands on him, I can only hope that he can feel the contempt I got fer him. Makin' me waste time, crawlin' 'around the lower parts of the studio fer a replacement camera, wastin' time and resources, all because he cannae even aim straight...Peckin' buffoon...

The elevator takes his sweet time, as usual and it annoys me, just as usual. I tap me foot letting out a growl that results in the wee kid next ta me takin' a step away from me, the little tune that she had started ta hum a felt eternity earlier, getting' slightly off tune. “Wouldn't it be faster if the Express Owls helped in the search for a camera?” The young girl next to me asks cautiously, the small smile on her face looking more forced as the seconds pass.

I have to stifle a scoff, as I cross me wings. “These scatterbrained bundles of anxiety? Pah, me dead granny would be able ta get the “SS literally can't sink” back ta the surface and fixed befer these morons find a camera, even if it stands right in front o' their faces.” A rather defeated sigh escapes the mouth of the young lass, but she cannae deny that I'm right, they'd be more of a nuisance than helpful. I make me way inta the elevator and press the button fer the lower floors, grumbling as I know that the descent will be a long one. Around a minute in, and around halfway ta the bottom, the pleasant humming of the young lassie starts up again, and I can see 'er look less tense in my peripheral vision.

I ain't that scary, am I? I need ta command a certain amount of authority or the lads willnae do what I want 'em ta...Trying ta reason never did work, it didn't befer, and it won't now either. Still...am I scaring the wee lassie?

Thankfully, me hatted actress doesn't seem to realize what I meself noticed at that moment, that me posture had shifted ever so slightly, me head-feathers lowered and me shoulders slouched a bit. I quickly straightened up again befer she snaps out of the happy daydream the lass seems to be havin', her eyes unfocused and a wide smile on her face. Cannae show any weakness or doubt, never!

Upon reaching the blasted basement, the first thing we come across, like every time, is the ever growin' pile of bills. “There aren't a lot of cinemas on this planet, are there?” With that, the girl drew attention to the biggest issue this planet had, WAAAAYYY too many uneducated, simpletons who don't understand the greatness, the unlimited potential of the bestest art form ever conceived, cinematography!

“Aye, lass, it's a darn shame, everyone is a critic these days.” I continue walkin', motioning for me wee actress to follow. “A'ight, the cameras should be somewhere 'round 'ere.” I pray that me crew hasnae rearranged things again...last time was a disaster that I had been lucky enough no one saw...nearly fell off one of these crates...

The lass keeps hoppin' from crate ta crate, focusing on readin' the old and sometimes crudely written labels on the boxes on me side of the storage area. “You really have to work on your calligraphy, Conductor. My handwriting is better and I've only been on this planet for a few months.”

Who does this wee hatchling think she is?! Accusin' me of bad handwriting! I can read it and nae a bird has ever complained about it!...It might explain why me owls seem to be unable to read a basic and easy ta understand script...nah, they're just illiterate peck necks!

“Pah! This likely ain't even me handwriting, lassie. Ye're just confusin' it with something one o' owl wrote.” I shake my head smiling a bit self-satisfied at me explanation, but the smile leaves me face again the next second.

“Caution! Highly Exblowsive!-” The lass' smile turns rather smug, causing me ta scowl. “It's signed with 'Conductor'. You spelled explosive wrong, by the way.”

I cross me wings and defend me honor as best I can. “Must have been a prank from those dull-witted penguins.” I cannae face her directly, feelin' a bit called out, but I can hear a knowing 'sure' from the troublemaker. “Quit yer yappin' and find us a damn camera, lass.” She only giggles and thankfully doesnae comment any further. I search the ground boxes fer a camera, only find' useless junk aside from one crate. I had been wondering where my McGuffins were! Thought someone stole them...a certain talentless penguin to be more specific.

“Found it! Look!” I look up at the hatted kid and follow where she's pointin', praying internally that what I had been afraid o' the whole time since we got here wouldnae be the case, but alas, it was. A box, indisputably labeled 'Cameras', cracked open slightly to reveal the lens o' one o' the motion capturing devices which at that angle perfectly captured the ground far below, taunted me with it's presence at the very top of a tall stack. “It's a bit hard to reach from here...” While I stand there, trying ta compose meself again, the lass looks around probably attempting ta find a way ta reach the box with the cameras. “...Can't you just...fly up there. You're a bird, right?...I mean you have wings and tail feathers and other bird-like properties, even if I can't tell what bird you're supposed ta be...if I were to describe you, I'd say 'A lot of sharp edges in a suit'”

I already zoned out at the word 'fly', barely registering the rest of her sentence. Flying, a very easy concept for any bird, and taught at a young age, yet...something that caused me nothin' but grief.

Why does this stupid crate have ta be so far up there!? How am I supposed ta tell the lassie that I cannae fly? She'll laugh at me! She'll think I'm weak and pathetic!...She'll walk away and never come back...

I nearly gasp in surprise when I feel small hand on me shoulder and turn to look inta the concerned eyes of the young girl. “You were spacing out there...-” Her eyes wander up and down as if to scrutinize me “-You're shaking and panting slightly...Are you okay?”

I laugh heartily to mask the panic that had settled in me bones. “Of course! I'm just fine and dandy! Was just thinkin' 'bout the bills and all that jazz.” She seems to buy that sorry excuse I scrambled together and I internally sigh in relief.

“Just fly up there and get one of the cameras down. I can run up the walkway next to the stack and grab the stand of it if you pass it down to me.” The lass points at the walkway around 10 meters (33 feet) up above us, the stack is a bit taller. the way the option she described could work in theory, but...

“I...I cannae fly up there, lass. I uh, I got a nasty strain in me wing, got out o' bed and me whole wing ached. No flyin' fer me today.” More like no flying for me...ever.

The hatted lass looks slightly concerned. “Oh, okay. I guess we have to try something different.”

Me acting must be unparalleled today! Can't believe she fell fer that! I really dodged a bullet there. If she finds out that I can't fly and that I'm afraid o' heights, the girlie will tell everyone that I'm a coward. I'm nae a coward! I haven't gotten ta where I am now by bein' scared and runnin' away!

While I'm busy celebratin' me tiny victory, me actress heads up to the walkway and tries to climb the stacks o' boxes. That's why I like the lass, always takin' the initiative, being brave and quick on her feet! She reminds me o' meself when I was around her age. I'm in awe when I see that she managed to actually get to the box way up on the stack. “Hey, I think I can pass it down to you if you get up on the walkway.”

Oh no...oh nononononono!!! She wants me ta get up there?! But it's so HIGH up! Merely looking up there is nearly paralyzing! How am I supposed ta get up there! I-I-I-I cannae!...But I gotta! If I donnae get up there, the lass will suspect that somethin' is wrong and will question why I'm hesitatin'. She'll laugh at me, she will.

After taking a very deep breath and gatherin' all me courage. I start ta climb the ladder. As I watch the ground get further and further away, me heart pounds faster and faster in response, and if I could sweat, I'd likely sweat bullets.

You can do this lad, just a wee bit more, donnae think about, about how far away the ground is and...

'Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.'

Shut up, SHUT UP!!! I'm nae a coward! Ye ain't got nothin' on me! YER ALL PECK NECKS, EVERYONE OF YE!!! Calm donwn, Connor, calm down...that was ages ago...those idiots are long out of yer life fer good. They achieved nothing while ye made yer dream a reality. Ye got this!

With shaking wings and a posture which likely would have resulted in me rival's obnoxious, deep and hearty laughter if he saw me right now, I make it onto the walkway. The only savin' grace in all this is that the young lass has her back turned ta me and cannae see me sorry state.

Donnae panic, whatever the peck ye do, donnae panic! Yer an adult, a strong and tough director. A wee bit o' height won't beat ye, ye cannae let it beat ye! One step befer the other...Fight it, Connor, fight it!

By focusin' only on the box and the lassie, I make it over ta the stack. So far so good, just need ta not look down and everything will be fine. “I'm in p-position, lass. Give me t-ta the c-camera.”

“...Don't you mean 'give the camera to me?” The girl pulls the camera out of the box, stumbling a bit as she had nowhere to really tread. “Are you sure that you're okay, Conductor? You look a bit...scared.”

“I ain't scared! Who do ye think yer talking ta?! A-Aye...Aye, I'm fine, just be careful, yeah?” With one swift and rather skillful motion, the kid with the hat pulls out the camera from the box and tries ta hand me the stand, however, an agonizing arm's length stands between me and being able ta continue recordin'. I gulp, gluing me vision ta the camera, me heart poudin' in me chest and the beat reverberating in me ears. It takes all me self control ta not have me beak chatterin' ta nae show the lass just how terrified I really am. Don't look down! Don't look down! Whatever the peck ye do, donnae look down! The words of the lass hardly reach me ears, something about stretchin' was all I can hear. I lean forward ever so slightly, felling like I'm goin' ta throw up me lunch.

Ye got this! Ye got this! Ye got this! Quit panicking and jus' grab the pecking camera, Connor! All ye have ta do is reach out and grab that blasted camera!

Creak

“AAAAHH!!!”

So high! Too high! Too threatenin'! I'LLDIEI'LLDIEI'LLDIE!!! IT'LL BREAK ME! GRAVITY WILL BREAK ME! DKHGOÖG ODGÖCJOÖRM GEGÖIHFKDLFKJC VÖWOHSLJA;D GLC

The next moments felt like a blur. All I can recall now is that I jolted away from the railin' of the walkway and pressed me back against the wall opposite of it so much that me back now hurts. Me heart was goin' so quick I could hardly tell on heartbeat from another. I felt sick, I only felt that sick once in me life befer. The fear must have overtaken me. The last thing I recall was that someone moved me!

“-EY! C_NDUC___ ! A__ YOU _KAY?” Me heart still beatin' louder than the volume of me train's whistle and bell combined makes it hard ta understand the words directed at me. It's the lassie's voice though, I'm sure o' it. I try ta calm down and gather me thoughts again. I open me eyes that I had closed shut tightly after I stumbled back against the wall. “You're safe, I brought you to the ground. What happened there? Are you okay?” The first thing I see after me vision clears after havin' me eyes closed fer who knows how long, could have been hours or minutes, I had lost all sense fer the passage of time in the panic, are the deep blue eyes of the hatted girlie.

After takin' a few more deep breaths ta calm down, I freak out yet again after realizing something.

The lass had seen me panic and fear on full display!!!

Oh no! What do I do? Me reputation! Me image is going to be ruin ferever! The lass is likely laughing at me internally, tauntin' me by feigning worry! AHHH! I'M FINISHED! ME DAYS AS A DIRECTOR ARE NUMBERED! T-The owls will laugh at me! The penguins will make fun o' me! I'll be know as the wimpy failure of a director! And the worst thing is, that DJ will win! I cannae beat 'im, That damn penguin will get everything!

'Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.'

NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!

The harsh shaking me undaunted actress was giving me in an attempt to bring me back ta me senses, nae doubt, makes me gasp and pant, but it has the effect that she wanted.

“Don't panic, okay? Everything is alright. Uh...I-I'm going to go and get help. I'll hurry, okay?” The girl gives me an empathetic looking fake smile and runs away.

She'll tell the others.....this is it, me career is over...Nae a soul is going ta want ta watch me movies...everyone will laugh and wheeze at how pathetic I am. A pathetic loser...they were right, weren't way? The other kids back then were right. I'm a good-fer-nothing...Cannae fly, am afraid o' heights...Pathetic, truly unbearable and inferior garbage...nae a bird, just as they always said.

I ignore the tears that are threatenin' ta stain me clothes and get up, me head hanging low, me vision locked on the ground in front o' me, the wooden boards now feeling less safe and more wrong than ever befer. Shaky steps echo down the silent hallway as I walk, not even sure where ta exactly, but away, far away from the birds upstairs. The bustling background noise and their chattering soon to be replaced by scornful and condescending laughter. Laughter aimed at me. Laughter aimed at the last shreds of me pride and dignity.

“Alright, darlings, just one more scene. I can feel it, this movie will be our greatest one yet!” With a smile, I watch as my diligent and lovely actors get ready for the next scene of our soon to be magnum opus. I was about to sit down in my director's chair and start the fabulous new scene that I added only this morning, but the double doors behind me being pushed open with enough force to make them hit the wall behind them makes me instantly turn around. I expect to see the grim and unpleasant faced of my annoying rival, bristled feathers and tawdry clothes and all. I'm ecstatic when the intruder turns out to be my stylish diva.

I knew that she couldn't resist coming over to my side of the studio for long, no one can stay sane with that loud, grumpy bird breathing down their necks, just waiting to yell 'cut' for the thousandth time that day. She's getting over here rather fast and she seems upset if that look on her face is any indication...What did that foul-mouthed Conductor do to her?!

I frown, fearing the worst for my celebrated diva, full on ready to storm over to my rival's depressing set to have a stern word with him. “Ah, nice to see you, darling! What brings you here on this fine day?” The girl stops in front of me, her eyes wide as she tries to speak inbetween pants, she must have sprinted over here.

“Conductor...panic...don't know...what to do!” I raise an eyebrow, turning to the penguins behind me to see if any of them understood what my little star was trying to communicate to us, I only receive shrugs as an answer.

I bet that egomaniac yelled at her, for some trivial thing no less! Maybe whatever he said or did made her panic and run away in terror, I wouldn't put it past him. If there's one thing that the Conductor can never rein in it's that horrid temper of his! Alright, Grooves, first things first, the girl needs some positive attention for once.

The hatted darling inhales deeply as I place my flipper on her shaking shoulders and pull her a bit closer to comfort her. “Deep breaths, darling, everything's fine. You're safe here.” She nods and I wait a few seconds for her to catch her breath before I address her again. “What happened, was the Conductor mean to you?” I give the girl a friendly smile, trying to hide my anger over the awful, yet unsurprising bad treatment that likely got her into the state that she is in.

My distressed diva looks up at me, showing not fear as I had first suspected, but worry. “I...I don't really know what happened. He panicked and I had to take him down form the walkway and...” She has the same look in her eyes of a girl that had done something bad and felt guilty, yet I fail to make sense of the situation.

I bend down to talk to her, trying to be less intimidating to the child that way, hoping it might mitigate her panic. “Just start from the begin, darling. Tell me everything that happened.”

She meets my gaze again, at least the look of guilt switching to worry once more. “I was helping out Conductor today and we were on the first set after you enter his side of the studio. It wasn't going too well and he got really angry once an owl broke one of his cameras. I told him that I could fix it and bring it back to the set tomorrow, but he said that interrupting the recording was out of the question. We went to the basement and he acted strangely after we found the camera in a box that was on top of a huge stack of crates.”

I give her a nod in understanding. So my rival was his usual self, an insufferable menace to his owls and likely himself , what else is new. “What do you mean by, 'acted strangely'? Did he break something down there in his rage? Wouldn't be the first time, darling.”

“No, that wasn't it, he wasn't violent. It was...more like the opposite, when I told him to climb up to the walkway while I got the camera, he looked really freaked out, like he was scared and then...” She cast her eyes down to her feet again, hesitating until I lightly squeeze her shoulders to prompt her to continue. “He panicked and jumped back, hitting the wall behind him on the walkway. I got shocked and worried and hurried over immediately after. The Conductor was shaking like a leaf, and had sat down and pulled his knees to his chest. His breathing came in quick and deep, but ragged breaths, like he was gasping for air constantly. He..even started crying.”

...Did I just hear that right? The great, confident, tough strong man Conductor...cried. Now THAT would be a sight to behold! That old bird finally feeling terrible for once after making me and everyone around him feel like trash Every. Single. Day! No matter what caused it, it serves him right!

“He cried, darling? That's...awful, truly.” The girl nods.

“Yes...I feel bad for him. Can you help me calm him down?” I can't ignore the pleading eyes of the girl and try to look sorrowful to match the solemn atmosphere, but I can't deny the triumph I feel over the news.

“Of course I'll help, we can't leave the old bird in that state now, can we?” We could, but I don't think that my little star here would approve of that. She makes a motion to get me to follow her and I do as prompted, leaving my flashy and welcoming set and side of the studio to enter the bland, dark and dusty side of my rival. I briefly glance at the owls we walk past, they seem to try and console one of their own. I wager that owl was the Conductor's latest victim, tormented by the wrath of his superior and treated in an unkind and despicable fashion, I can't help but let a small frown cross my beak.

The poor darling fidgets and steps from one foot to the other nervously, she even took down her top hat, kneading it as we wait for the elevator to take us down to the depths of the studio.

In all honesty, I always hate the basement, the state of disrepair the whole lower floors is in is very concerning, but when I mention it in meetings, everyone glosses it over as if the problem will magically fix itself. One would think that the winners of the movie awards have a lot of money, but with the lack of cinemas on this planet, it's impossible. What a sad and uninspiring world we live in, a true tragedy. It would all be better if the Moon had more cinemas, my popularity would sky rocket!

When we reach the lower floors, the little darling sprints ahead so fast that I have a hard time following her, not because of my fabulous plateau shoes of course, merely because I like to take my time walking...through this...dark...gloomy, totally not vibe destroying basement.

A new coat of paint would do the place wonders, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I never have the time for that...or to fix the ceiling that's leaking. That old owl really shirks all responsibility. As famous as a celebrity, but having a workplace like a hobo with barely enough money to pay for food and water, the Conductor wouldn't know about aesthetics if they punched him in the face.

The girl stops on the ground in corner, looking around frantically, no sign of the yellow-feathered 'bird'. “Where is the Conductor, darling?”

She gives me a worried and panicked look...She really worries about that old geezer, huh. “H-He was here before! I left him here and told him to stay when I went to get you for help!”

“Calm down, I'm sure that I know where he is.” I know this bird for long enough, much to my chagrin. If I were the Conductor and I was freaking out horribly and was scared where would I go for comfort? The Owl Express, of course! “I'm sure that he went to his train, darling, we should start our search there.” I take the hand of the young girl to comfort her, it's trembling, making me feel sorry for the girl. Scaring a girl like that Conductor, no matter how bad you may feel, don't break down in front of a poor child.

We head to the station outside, the hot desert sun, cooking me alive...who in their right mind built a studio out here in such a hostile environment anyway? Penguin or not, this heat can't be good. I wonder if the creature of this planet would freeze on the Moon...Wanting to get out of this singeing heat as fast as possible, I waste no time heading to the vehicle that I despise more than cyclists on the city roads...they really have to make designated lanes for those soon, or I won't be held accountable for my actions. “Conductor, are you there!” I yell, waiting for the inevitable hostile yell back...but it never came. No 'Go away, ye stupid peck neck!', no 'Piss off, Grooves!', nothing, just silence.

“Maybe he isn't here, he could be in his office.” The theory of my young star was quickly disproved when steam comes from the sides of the train as if the old steam locomotive was about to start moving, and sure enough, the heavy wheels of the pride and joy of my rival begin moving. For a moment I just stand there, beak agape, until I make a decision. I grab my diva's hand and head toward the caboose, we could jump on as long as the train doesn't gain too much speed.

Very mature, Conductor, just leave the station and run away like a child who did something that would anger their parents instead of facing either me or the little darling. So much for being a tough guy, nothing but a despicable coward! I'm getting steam all over my clothes, but I'm doing it for the young star, not for irredeemable egomaniac!

We barely leap onto the train in time, just before it gets enough speed to just leave us in the dust. “Whoa, that was close! Why did he want to leave us behind like that? We just want to talk with him.” The hatted darling laments, I can see that she wants to help, but knowing that owl, he tried to escape just so he doesn't have to explain himself.

I'm starting to wonder just how bad whatever happened to the Conductor really was, if he went to such lengths to get away. In hindsight, it would have been smarter to have my little actress call out to him instead. I should be happy that he's so out of it, yet this whole situation is so bizarre.

We make our way from the back of the train to the front where we likely find either a triumphant Conductor, who's going to laugh at me for falling for this rather sick prank, or a really distressed Conductor. I'm still a bit unsure which, but he normally isn't the type for such elaborate pranks, he lacks the intelligence to come up with something like this. The interior of the train always makes my eyes hurt, it feels like most if is as old as the owner of it himself. Something one would find in an old country club from the 19th century, ancient, dusty, dull and worn, I should sue him and demand personal injury compensation for the eye strain this is causing me. The hatted darling soldiers on, undaunted by the antiquated furniture that tortures me by merely existing much like my rival does.

The moment we arrive at the front door, the young girl wastes no time and knocks on the door daintily. “Conductor, are you okay? Can you open the door please.” I swear I heard a small gasp at the question. “I just want to help” I make a decision after seeing that the young girl next to me started to cry from worry. I know it is rude, but I consider barging into the room payback for all the times he did this to me, and I called him out on it several times too, yet he never payed it any mind.

I push the door open, still half expecting him to either laugh in my face or push me out immediately in his standard hostile fashion, but when I enter, I don't see the Conductor at all. He couldn't have left, could he? I heard him in here just before. All I see now though are the controls of the train and his chair near the panel with the gazillion buttons that no one but him had any idea what they do. “Are you in here, Conductor?” I call out, once again not really receiving an answer. I carefully step into the room, making sure that he won't catch me of guard, maybe it's a bit paranoid, but I'm not taking any chances with that old coot. When I do find him, I can fully understand why the hatted darling reacted the way she did, that Conductor was a shadow of himself. He sits huddled together in the little area right under the control panel, shaking a bit still. The moment he sees me, his already lowered head feathers lower even more and I swear that flinched slightly.

How pathetic and small he is now, not so confident and condescending now, are we? It serves you right, Conductor! Whatever happened finally put you down a peg and I can't say that I disapprove. Maybe now you finally know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of suffering.

The kid elbows me and I realize that I was smiling before, an inappropriate reaction for sure, however she doesn't understand just how many times this owl forced me to feel the exact same way! I deserved the satisfaction of seeing him forlorn and pained for once. I sigh. She was right, I had to at least try to be the bigger person here, for the little darling's sake.

“What are you doing down there, Conductor?” I nearly expected the following action of my rival, turning away instead of facing me, only making himself smaller to fit even deeper into the small crevice. Nearly instinctively, I reach my arm out to touch the owl's shoulder to get him to react, but he slaps it away in a swift and violent motion of his wing, the first action today that was in character for the yellow eyesore.

Be like that then! If you want to behave like a little chick and sulk, be my guest. I have done what I could! There's no way to talk to the owl if he's in his stubborn mood, moving the whole studio by hand would be easier.

“Can you at least tell me that you're okay now?” The girl next to me asked the yellow-feathered bird who took a deep breath, but didn't reply. This was getting rather ridiculous, he is a grown bird, he should act like one!

“Conductor, at least answer the question. The little darling did help you out after all.” It's faint, but I can finally hear something that sounded like quiet muttering. I had to strain my ears to hear the choked up whisper, but it sounded like 'Did you tell anyone?' I turn to my little diva with one eyebrow raised and she answered the question that I asked non-verbally.

“No, I didn't tell anyone about what happened except for DJ Grooves here.” The most exasperated and anguished groan escapes the jagged beak of the pile of misery under the panel, it was almost a wail. The hatted darling cringed slightly, maybe realizing that telling your friend's rival that he had a mental breakdown wasn't the smartest move.

I sigh loudly. “Look, Conductor. I'm not here to make fun of you.-” Although I kind of want to deep down. “-Now get out from under there and tell us what happened?” I bend down to check on the owl, who gives me a scrutinizing glare, likely trying to gauge if I was speaking the truth.

“Fine, ye both ain't gonna leave till I tell ye anyway, are ye?” Wow...if his voice sounded awful normally, now it sounded dreadful, he must have been crying. I make some space for the old owl to exit his little hiding space and the moment that I see him in a brighter environment, I'm taken aback by how messy he looks. His hat is scrunched up badly, and his feathers are a mess, even his normally so prim and proper suit is wrinkled and has wet sleeves.

The little darling wasn't lying when she told me that the Conductor panicked and looked troubled. I don't think I've ever seen him this disheveled, not even when drunk. By the stars...even I feel a twinge of sympathy.

“I'll tell ye what happened...-” I nearly flinch when he goes from looking at the ground like he just got told that he lost a beloved family member to looking me straight in the eyes...if he could actually reach my eye or if he had any to begin with...I now him for god knows how long, but to this day I have no clue if even has eyes. “If ye DARE tell anyone else, I'll rip out yer eyeballs and shove them down yer throat.” The threat would have had more weight to it if his voice hadn't broken half way through it.

“Alright, I promise.” I may not care too much about the state he's in right now, even if it was pretty awful, but it might help ease the girls worries. I sit down on a chair that the little darling provided, she must have sprinted to the cart behind us to get some. I fold my flippers and legs, looking at the my little star briefly before I turn my attention back to the yellow bird.

“This is gonna be a long one, ye better strap in. If either of ye laugh, I'll through ye off me train, ye got it? Good.”

“It was bright and sunny, cloudless day in the small town near the desert that I lived in. As always, I was bored out of my wee mind listening to crap about math or physics or suchlike. Total nonsense and nothing I deemed worth me time, so instead I was doodlin' in me textbook. I couldae wait fer the bell ta release me from that boring punishment. When it did, I and the rest of me class rushed outside ta get away from that hellhole as fast as possible.”

“That might explain why you're so bad at spelling.” Hat Kid mumbled and I glare at the little lass then at the DJ that was snickering form her comment.

“Moving on, as I hurried out, one of the peck necks in me class grabbed me backpack and pulled me back and another one o' 'em grabbed me sketchbook where I kept me ideas fer me movies and concepts...and drawings of me pa's train.”

“They bullied you?” The young lassie looked both shocked and saddened.

“Aye, lass, it's just how it is then yer greatness cannae be recognized by the people around ye. Ye get ostracized and shoved 'round like yer unfastened and unclaimed luggage in a train when it goes around a bent.

“Are you sure you weren't pushed around because of your appearance and your height, darling.” If I had the strength to argue in that moment I would have done more than simply snarl at that cruel comment.

“If yer done interruptin' when let me continue the tragic tale that crippled the greatest director known ta bird fer his whole life. Of course I turned around to fight the bastard that did this to me, but being...uh...vertically challenged, I had trouble to get a good hit in and instead got shoved ta the ground. They ran away with me sketchbook, out inta the sweltering sun, taunting me, saying things like: “Come and get it back, shorty! You're never gonna get it back, ground dweller!”

“You couldn't fly, darling? I thought that other birds learned that from a young age.”

“It just didnae come natural to me, okay! I would have been a late-bloomer!...If that incident hadn't ruined any chances of me ever bein' able to fly.”

“What happened, Conductor?”

“I'd be able ta tell ye if ye both would quit interruptin' me very two sentences! I'm tellin' ye something traumatic that happened ta me, show some respect! This is nae easy!” I cross me wings, feeling slightly discouraged by the rude comments from the DJ who seems ta have fun tauntin' me. Why did the lassie take him here?! Of all the people she could have brought here, it just had to be that stupid DJ Peck Neck!

“I ran after them, of course! Chased them all the way up the steep and towering canyon near me home town. The thing was massive, I tell ye, had jagged sharp rocks and the highest point was easily a 50 meter (164 feet) drop, nothin' ta even say about the animal out fer yer blood in its crevices and cracks. Tarantulas and scorpions were hidin there, just waitin' for unsuspecting folk ta claim as victims with their poison!”

The lassie started to shiver slightly and me rival put his dirty flipper on her shoulder. Sure, try to get plus points by calming her down...No one ever calmed ME down as a lad when I was scared, always had to fight me own battles!

“I know that you have a tendency to be dramatic, darling, but please, just stay on the topic, you're scaring the little star.” The lass forced a smile, still listening.

“It's okay, I can handle it. Are there really so many dangerous creatures on this planet? Then again...you guys have tried to kill me already and there's Snatcher and Vanessa...I don't thing anything could ever be scarier than Queen Vanessa.” The girl shivered for a brief moment, both me and the DJ exchanged glances, even through his shades I could tell that he had no idea who that Queen Vanessa character was...unfortunately we both knew too well how scary that purple pool noodle was...Making me fight the lassie was simply despicable.

Before we get further away from the topic, I continue. “So, I had to make the perilous climb to chase after the evil peck necks that took me sketchbook. Unlike the unskilled birds that could fly, I had to climb me way up the canyon, claw me way to the top like a determined mountain climber, just that I didnae even have safety gear. Had I fallen, I would have broken me bones, but I really needed me sketchbook back! Bit by bit I made me way to the top and then it happened, one of the rocks that I tried to reach fer broke off and I nearly fell!”

The girlie was on the edge of her seat, clearly I hadn't lost me touch in story tellin'! It brought a smile ta me face, even if I still felt horrible. I had a massive headache and I felt more sluggish when the day after I failed a stunt and fell on me back. I donae even wish this on the peck neck that sits across from me, even if he deserves it, especially after he rolled his eyes in a dismissive fashion! Dumb peck neck!

Always one for drama, trying to sound like he's a badass like he is in one of his movies. Can he not tell a story like a normal person? I swear, listening to this is painful...I would have left if it wasn't for the little darling.

“Thankfully, I managed to catch myself by finding me footing again. They taunted me the whole time, tearing out pages of me sketchbook, scatterin' them in the wind, laughing those stupid condescending laughter like a bunch o' hyenas. And the worst thing was that revolting, asinine, infuriating singsong crap they said. ''Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.' How I hate hearin' that,even thinking about it now makes me blood boil!” I cannae help but clench me hands into fist and I notice me head-feathers twitch again.

“Who were these people that were bullying you?” The kid asked, looking a bit less tense now, but also distraught after hearin' what the group did ta me ol' sketchbook.

“It was Joe and his stupid group o' numb-skulls. That boy always thought he was sooo great, callin' himself a cowboy kid because his father owned an old revolver with nae a bullet that he had taken fer himself. He was popular due to bein' 'brave' and 'strong', pah! That idiot would've peed himself if he were in me situation at the time! An absolutely borderline brain dead idiot, if ye ask me!”

Me rival sighs, but seems a bit less hostile now. “Seems like we unfortunately have something in common then. Some people are just needlessly cruel, much like you.”

“Hate ye too, peck neck.” I glare back at him. “Anyway, I made it to the top and was about ready to rip these guys a new one at that point, so...me anger kinda got the better of me. I charged at them with a guttural roar of rage and...I heroically punched and kicked the guys as best I could, but I was only one wee lad.”

“...You got your ass kicked.” I growl at the penguin.

“Would ye shut yer trap if ye ain't got nothing nice ta say! I fought as best I could! But...aye...I got me tail feathers handed ta me.”

“You got beat up! Did they apologize?” The poor lassie innocent and sweet lassie...I can only hope that she won't turn inta a cynical adult once she learns how harsh this world can be.

“Nae...nae they didnae. It got worse lassie, way worse.”

Now we were getting ta the painful part, the reason why I was so afraid of heights. I can still recall it crystal clear, the hot sun as it beat down on me head, the slight breeze atop the canyon, the sharp and deadly rocks that would skewer me, break me bones and impale me...I can feel me heart race just thinking back on that image alone.

“Are you done with your elaborate and dramatic retelling? Are you finally getting to the part that explains why you freaked out in front of the little darling?” I solemnly nod, going quiet.

An once again I'm taken aback by how quiet and distressed my normally so confident and unfazed rival looks. For him to just quiet down from one second to the next, even his posture changed from annoyed at my comment and the question of my little star, to deeply upset within a few seconds. It was like the wind was taken out of his sails.

“.....I...They pulled me up by me backpack...pushin' me to the very edge of the canyon...Joe and his second in command pushed me till only the straps of me backpack were holding me as they held my backpack, making me nearly fall..I was danglin' trying ta move away, but I was leaning so far forward that all I could see was the precipice...and the s-sharp rocks a-at the bottom.” I could feel the fear return as I tried hard to not have the image burn inta me mind yet again. I feel something warm and it takes me a second to realize that it was the lassie that tries to comfort me.

“That...that's awful, darling. Did they pull you back?”

My question only made the yellow owl flinch, and for the first time today, or maybe ever, I felt guilty that I distressed the Conductor more. His feathers all lowered and he looked like he was going to start crying again. I really messed up now! As awful as that menace can be, even he doesn't deserve to be tortured like that.

I turn away abit, tryin' ta hide the tears that were forming in me eyes again. Be a tough lad, donnae show weakness! STOP BEING A WEE BABY, CONNOR! Just soldier through like always! “T-The straps...they snapped...I-I f-fell...All I could see were s-sharp r-rocks and... and they got b-b-bigger and b-bigger...I-I felt sharp pain e.everywhere. I t-thought that that was it, t-that I'd meet me maker.” I reach fer me left wing, feeling the sharp pain as I did it that day, even thought it wasn't injured..

“I...I'm sorry, Conductor...I had no idea it was that bad...I shouldn't have been so tactless...” It was nice ta here that flashy penguin apologize fer his mistakes fer once.

“I'm sorry that happened to you, Conductor. I shouldn't have asked you to climb up that walkway. I'm a bad person.” I jolt at the blatant drivel that the lassie said.

“Nae, ye ain't! It was me own pride that I couldnae jump o'er! If I had just told ye, I could have avoid all this...I'm sorry I scared ye, lassie.” I hug the young lass tight to me.

“Is that why you...why you can't fly, darling?” I could feel that he was trying to be sympathetic and likely was just curious.

“Aye...I fell ten meters down inta the sharp rocks...I must have passed out as the next thin' I recall was wakin' up in the hospital. The lads at least had enough common sense ta run to the hospital and tell them what had happened. The doctor told me that me left wing got fractured so bad that it wouldnae heal fully and it never did. I can lift it, but I cannae carry more than 20 pounds with it. It aches on some days, usually when the weather changes.” I sigh and cross me wings. “So, there ya have it, that's the reason fer me breakdown, that incident made me afraid o' heights. Every time I'm somewhere that is even remotely high, I feel uneasy. Even standin' on the roof of me beloved Owl Express is a challenge. Ye happy now, now ye know a weakness o' mine that ye can use against me, now ye can torture the livin' daylights outta me.” I expect to hear that boisterous annoying laughter that I had heard so many times when something unfortunate happened ta me. What I didn't expect was for him to lift his glasses briefly to rub his eyes.

“You really think me to be the cruelest and most despicable person on the whole moon and planet, don't you, Conductor?”

“Ye ain't?” I smirk and catch him scoff.

“Oh no, darling, that award goes to you for sure.” I growl and my rival glares at me. Feeling the tension, the young lassie sighs with exasperation.

“Can you two get along for a few minutes at least?” She pouted a little even crossing her arms.

Near simultaneously, two resounding “No!” can be heard.

#ahit fanfic #ahit conductor #ahit hat kid #ahit dj grooves

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fanaticastrid · 8 months

Text

I felt fine, despite what had obviously happened. It didn't make sense how in the world I could possibly be alive right now.

But here I was, standing in the alley pondering my life, feeling so... empty. Something else didn't seem right with me, yet I had no clue what was off. I just felt as if a part of me were ripped out. I don't know.

I bring you... Aoroi Lester. (Tap or click images for better quality)

Yeshhhh this is Lester's true form in the AU! He's got to be careful not to break into this as he's quite aggressive in this state, but a bit of food or physical affection will quickly calm him down. Lester's mostly the same as an aoroi except he's faster, but now vulnerable to magical metals like Celestial bronze, Imperial gold, and Stygian iron.

Apparently, aoroi have some sort of magical quality to them, which one can use if they capture one. Lester isn't so sure about that... until he encounters Medea, who has a strong interest in using his "magic" for a task that Neos Helios very much wants done. No spoilers ;)

Eventually Lester masters control over his aoroi form, and he's quite proud, bragging about it to Apollo and Meg until he hears something land 9n the hearse. Next thing he knows, he feels a sharp cut across his belly, but he knows immediately it wasn't him that was wounded. Before he knows it, the voice of Tarquin beckons him to return to his tomb, eager to have such a strong spirit among his ranks of the many dead Romans...

Stay tuned, folks! I'm working on getting the Double Lester AU/ Son of the Priest on Ao3, I'm working here!

#double lester au #lesterverse #alternate universe #fan au #my au #my au art #trials of apollo #toa #toa au #lester papadopoulos

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banannabethchase · 1 month

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thoughts on eddie/nick as a ship pairing? bc i think they’d work so well together just based on eddie’s reaction to seeing them come back on all access

Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit (Except for You) - also on AO3

Eddie wakes up to see Nick come into their hotel room after Dynamite on April 24th.

Title from Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit from How I Met Your Mother. It's pretty much always stuck in my head, and now it has proven useful!

Eddie yawns and wakes up to feel eyes on him. He hadn’t meant to nap, but all the bullshit that had gone down with the show must have knocked him out. He blinks awake. All he needs to see is the edges of purple in the corner of his vision to make the connection.

“Peacock, what do you want from me?” he mumbles pushing himself to sitting. “That suit’s fuckin’ stupid, by the way.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Nick says, and he makes himself comfortable on Eddie’s lap, like he’s supposed to be there.

He is, of course. But Eddie sort of hates that he is. “Get the fuck out,” Eddie says, shifting his hips to try and throw Nick off. But Nick just grins and grinds down, like it’s on purpose, like he’s loving it. “After that shit you pulled with Tony, I don’t want nothin’ to do with you.”

Nick sighs. Somehow even the facial hair, hideous as it is, looks good on him. “Is that really true?” he asks. He doesn’t even try to hide his smile.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “It is. You’re being a bigger shit even than Matt lately. At least all he did was hold the boss.” He nods down to Nick’s thighs. “You really showed your ass out there.”

“Hey!” and, finally, Eddie’s getting something a little farther from the mask. “It was embarrassing.”

“Stop doing embarrassing shit and embarrassing shit will stop happening to you,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Now get your ass out of my lap unless you’re willing to be good.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You don’t like it when I’m good.”

“I like you when you’re not being a prick,” Eddie says, pinching a part of Nick’s ass where the pants ripped. The boxers are nice quality but thin, and Nick squeaks. “Showed your ass,” Eddie murmurs. He pauses. “Get on my lap.”

“What?” Nick asks.

“You gonna be an asshole, you’re gonna get punished,” Eddie says. “Now. Across my lap.”

Nick eyes him, hesitant. “I’m in my clothes.”

“You got a big enough rip in those pants it won’t matter.”

Nick drapes himself across Eddie’s thighs, ass up and ready. Eddie takes the moment to eye what’s in front of him. Usually he’s got a little less annoyance running through his veins when he’s got a pretty man draped on top of him, but maybe Nick has earned it this time. Eddie paws at the hole in Nick’s pants, pulling at the seams so the thread pulls apart more.

“This is a weird tactic,” Nick grumbles. “Also, are you going to do anything?”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, pulling at the fabric a little harder. The seam fully separates into two distinct sides, leaving most of Nick’s underpantsed ass on display.

“This suit was so expensive,” Nick sighs. “I already have that first pair getting fixed, but I think you just effed this one up past the point of – oh.”

Eddie grins as Nick relaxes into the first gentle smack of his ass. He never goes too hard, even with a layer of underwear in between his hand and Nick’s skin, but the sound and the way Nick’s muscle moves under his hand doesn’t need much force to be good.

Nick stretches, popping his ass up. He hums.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this so much,” Eddie mutters, swatting again.

Nick shrugs off the suit jacket and puts it on the floor. He’s got on a comparatively boring shirt underneath. Eddie hopes he can rip that, too. “What, you gonna punish me better or something?”

“I could kick you out,” Eddie says, tapping his fingers on the spot where he knows Nick’s ass must already be smarting. “Haul you up and dump you in the hallway like the dishes from room service.”

“You wouldn’t,” Nick scoffs. “You haven’t even seen me shirtless.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie says. He adds a little more behind this next hit, firm with a flat palm, and he finally gets Nick mewling. “There it is. Can’t be a little bitch when you’re trying not to fall off my lap, can you?” He slides his hand into the pants, trying to get to a little skin. He finds the waistband and pulls it down, grinning at the pink skin he can see. He lets it snap back and Nick sighs. “Much better. Sometimes, I like you more when you shut up.”

Nick whimpers again and ruts against Eddie’s thigh.

“Yeah, I saw that coming,” he sighs. “You think you deserve that tonight? Think you get to come after all you did?”

“I – no,” he says. “But maybe – maybe you get to make me come?” He glances over to Eddie, face red from being just the wrong side of horizontal. And likely from something else. “Maybe it’s not for me, right?”

“Don’t try the boo boo eyes,” Eddie says sharply. He smacks Nick’s ass again, and Nick’s eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t even remember to hide his smile. “You ain’t Matty and I ain’t Mox.”

“Don’t bring up my brother when I have a hardon,” Nick says.

“Don’t beat the shit out of the boss on live television.” Eddie grabs a handful of Nick’s ass, fingers gripping the fabric.

He waits for Nick to wonder, for him to know he’s being made to wait. “Um, hello?” Nick says. He grinds down again, trying to find friction against Eddie’s thigh through all the layers of fabric, but Eddie shifts his leg so Nick can’t get anywhere near where he wants to be.

“Yeah?” Eddie says. He makes sure to get a good handle on the fabric. “What?”

Nick glances over his shoulder. He doesn’t speak.

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, I know.” He tears. The sound of fabric ripping as it exposes Nick’s ass should become his ringtone. Especially with the little sounds in the background from Nick.

“What are you planning on doing?” he whispers.

Eddie pulls a little harder so all of Nick’s ass is exposed and grins. There’s a good red mark, a vague shape of Eddie’s hand. “Fuck do you think?” He pulls back and hits right at the red spot. Gentler, this time, since there’s no fabric, but Nick moans either way.

“Please,” Nick whines. “Please, I’ll be good. Just – something.”

“Oh, you’ll be good?” Eddie asks. He pinches at Nick’s skin, grinning as Nick squirms. “Not sure you can be good, Nicky.”

Nick hums, finally getting an angle to thrust against Eddie’s thigh. “Please,” he says. “I’ll try.”

“I sure doubt that.” Eddie stands and lets Nick tumble to the floor. He falls, mouth open, and rolls to look up at Eddie. “I already said don’t try the boo boo eyes.”

“I’m not trying boo boo eyes!” Nick argues, but it’s clear even he knows he’s lying.

“Power hungry little bastard.” Eddie leans down and grabs a handful of Nick’s hair, yanking him to his feet. Nick’s smiling, eyes closed. He’s enjoying this too much. And Eddie’s letting him. “You know your real place, don’t you?”

Nick nods.

“Stand up,” Eddie says. “Hands on the bed.”

Nick springs to his feet without any difficulty, even with fabric falling all over the place. He obeys Eddie without argument.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “No touching. No moving. You hear me?”

Nick’s quiet enough that Eddie pauses.

“Oh, am I allowed to talk?” Nick asks. “You know, talking is moving.”

“Now you’re not,” Eddie snaps. “Shut the fuck up. All you can do right now is stand and breathe, you little shit.”

Eddie takes his time as he takes off his belt and grabs the lube. He knows Nick keeps extra in his bags, so he takes his time digging through the layers and layers of clothes, even when it’s clutched in his hand. He resorts to jostling the bag so it sounds like he’s still searching. He’s waiting for Nick to say something. Honestly, he’s waiting for Nick to beg.

“Eddie?” Nick says, and there it is. That quiet, almost pleading tone.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna be good now,” Nick says. It’s almost sad, how tiny his voice is. But, as everyone who watched tonight knows, he deserves it. “I’m getting cold.”

“Cold, huh?” Eddie asks. He zips the back shut and walks over. He gives a gentle pat to where Nick’s ass is exposed. “Can’t imagine why.”

Nick twitches under his hand. “More?” he asks.

“Yeah? What kind of more?” Eddie asks. He already knows, of course. Nick’s got his ass stuck out so far he can’t want anything else.

“In me,” he says. He drops his head down where his hands are clasped together. In any other setting, he could be praying. “I’m sorry. Whatever I have to do, just. Tell me.”

“Tell you, huh,” Eddie murmurs. He runs his finger shallowly between Nick’s cheeks, reminding him that Eddie is right here. “I want you to stop fucking around with the company. I want you to get your head out of your ass and be a decent boss.”

“Okay,” Nick murmurs. “Okay, I will.”

Eddie knows he doesn’t mean it. He’s going to walk out of here tomorrow morning after kissing Eddie, and he’s going to be just as horrible and just as miserable as soon as he gets back around Matt.

But it’s easy to pretend when Nick is whimpering and right in front of him and promising all these nice things.

“Good boy,” Eddie says, leaning over Nick’s back until he can turn his chin to kiss him. Nick whimpers against his lips, and Eddie is powerless. “Brace yourself.”

“I’m still dressed.”

“Not where it counts.” Eddie grins and swipes a slick finger between Nick’s cheeks. It’s not a yelp, exactly, that comes out of Nick, but it’s equally fun. “See? I don’t even need to get you naked. You’re all ready for me.”

“I am,” Nick says. “I – I want you in me, okay?”

“I can make that happen,” Eddie says, and he finds Nick’s hole easily and slides a finger in like he was made to be there. “Better?”

“Sort of,” Nick mumbles. He drops his head forward on his hands. “Not exactly what I meant.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and slowly moves his finger. “I know what you meant.”

Nick’s finally silent as Eddie gets him ready. He takes his time, knows Nick needs it, even if Nick would insist otherwise. If he’s wound up enough to start committing assault on live television, there’s no way they can take this fast. He’ll draw this out, finger by finger.

He’s heard stories from Mox about Matt. How it’s fast, how it’s rough, how sometimes it’s over right after it’s begun, because Matt is so eager for everything all the time right now. Nick’s got his moments, Eddie muses as the third finger stretches him and Nick sighs against the sheets, but speed is his game in the ring. Not in the bedroom.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. He pushes away the fabric to get a better look at the way Nick finds space for him. “Ready?”

Nick mumbles something that sounds like, “Have been.”

Eddie sighs and shoves his pants down his hips. He kicks them off. With the way Nick gets sometimes, adding a way to fall over feels like a bad idea. “Alright, baby.”

Nick sighs and stretches his arms forward, catlike, as Eddie slides into him. It’s strange, to be balls deep in the guy when he’s still technically fully dressed, but feeling of the fabric under his fingers as he grips Nick’s waist has a certain appeal.

“You always feel so good, baby,” Eddie murmurs. He pulls back slowly.

“’M always good,” Nick replies.

“Like fuck you are,” Eddie laughs, moving a little more quickly. “This your way of asking for it harder or something?”

“Just stating facts,” Nick says. But the way he looks over his shoulder, the way he grins, says otherwise.

“I see,” Eddie says. He moves one had into Nick’s hair, tugging the ponytail until Nick’s using all that flexibility. “Think you can play around, huh?”

“Playing around is, like, half my job,” Nick says, following back when Eddie pulls almost all the way out. “Get – stop that.”

“Stop what?” Eddie asks.

“Stop teasing,” Nick says. “You’re being all – I don’t know. Whatever it is, I want it different.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He grabs fabric on either side of where he’s inside of Nick and thrusts in as he rips the clothes apart. It effectively sates a previously unknown part of him, one that wants to prove Nick is his to everyone and make it front page news. “That kinda different?”

“This suit was so expensive,” Nick grumbles, but he whines when Eddie increases his pace. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s forgiven.

Nick is surprisingly quiet the whole time, mostly hums of encouragement, so Eddie is kept with his thoughts and the sounds of his skin slapping against Nick’s.

He groans, deep in his throat, when he feels Nick clench around him. “You wanna come, baby?”

“Want you to,” Nick murmurs. “I wanna feel it.”

Eddie moans, and he wishes he could keep his shit together around Nick a little better. “I will, baby,” he promises. “Any time you want.”

Nick chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says, laughing with Nick. “I try my best.”

“You do,” Nick murmurs. “Come on.” He tightens around Eddie’s dick. “Come on, I want you to.”

“I will, baby.” Eddie’s too old, way too old, to come on command anymore, but with a little focus he can get himself there. He pushes into Nick one more time with a gasp of Nick’s name, and he lets himself really feel Nick, lets himself enjoy the moment. He comes back to his body and hears something unexpected.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks. He pulls out, gentle, and turns Nick around. “Babe, what the hell?”

“I want to come,” Nick begs. “But I know – I know I don’t –”

“You know you don’t what?” Eddie asks. He’s already going to Nick’s belt, throwing it to the floor.

“I know I don’t get to,” he whispers.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nick. You can be as stupid and batshit in the ring as you want. I’m not gonna punish you for real about it. Not in here.” He drops to his knees. “Sit down, babe. I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie pulls what used to be Nick’s pants down his hips. “You really are miserable,” he says, eyeing Nick’s leaking cock. He slides his mouth around Nick, and he can tell, just from the way Nick wails, that this won’t last very long. Good for him, too, because his knees won’t handle this position for too long.

“Eddie,” he whispers, “Eddie, can I?”

Eddie pulls off and uses his hand, “Yeah, Nick. You can.”

He didn’t expect Nick to come on his face. He really didn’t. But Nick sobs out his name and comes, hot and wet, all over Eddie. At the very least, he hadn’t changed into his pajamas yet. He chuckles as he looks up at Nick, who looks like he’s fighting not to fall over back on the bed.

“That was new,” Eddie says. He pulls off his shirt and mops up his face. “You have fun?”

Nick mumbles and falls back on the bed. “Yeah.”

Eddie stands. “You alive?”

Nick’s eyes are closed, his entire body limp. “Probably.”

Eddie leans down and kisses Nick’s forehead. “Up you get, baby. Gotta get you cleaned up after all that.”

Nick sighs, dramatic as ever, but allows Eddie to help him to the shower. He frowns at the heap of material that once called itself suit pants. “Those pants are pretty effed, aren’t they?”

“Were when you ripped the hole in the ass,” Eddie says, patting Nick on the hip. “In the shower. We’ll worry about your pretty little outfit later.”

“But what if –”

Eddie pushes him into the shower. “Stop it. Shut that brain up and let yourself relax. We’ll handle all of it in the morning.”

“In the morning,” Nick echoes. And Eddie can see it in his eyes – he’s finally let the evening go, whatever that means.

Mini Playlist: Nothing Suits Me Like a Suit - Neil Patrick Harris Slow it Down - Kim Petras No Mercy - Austin Giorgio Use Me - PVRIS feat. 070 Shake

#EddieNick #Hello look I've never written them before! Hopefully this is okay!#wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes

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