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55eefe7120e244e7b4d48b1adcd9fdaf | ['8ce4dc48b9fc489dbd83c3443183f196'] | There She Is
**Author's Note:**
> An anon requested fem!Jay on Tumblr. I don't know where I'm going with this yet to be honest.
Jay was tiny for the age he claimed to be. Bruce knew this from day one. The baggy clothes he wore drowned him and hid any figure Jay might have had. And when he caught his small wrist, felt the bones there, Bruce knew without a doubt he could break them in half easily, could break Jay in half easily. But that was--because he was just a kid.
They should've given him a clue, and if not, the long lashes, the full lips, the curve of Jay's jaw should've given the kid away. Still, it took Bruce too long to figure it out. Three days, and by that time, Jay had stayed in the manor for two of them.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked Jay.
“Does it matter?” Jay was not looking at him and now that Bruce knew, he didn't understand how he could've missed it. He--or, Bruce should say, she, was hunching and scowling. Her hair was a nest of messy brown curls, the front just long enough to hide one of her eyes when she tilted her head like that. She looked like she was ready to fight her way out of this if needed--like she probably already had had to at one point in her life, fight to escape a threat from a grown up man, and that thought feed the lump in Bruce's chest.
Bruce frowned. He had decided to take in a boy to train as Robin--but this… did this change things? It did. However, the look in her eyes, the hollowness around them that made the blue that much starker--the fierceness that made him consider, in the first place. He decided then, that it shouldn't matter. “No,” he said.
Jay looked up and at something in Bruce's face, she snorted. “Okay.”
“It's just….” It was rare for Bruce to be at lost for words. He cleared his throat. “Alfred will take you shopping. You need clothes.” Clothes that didn't belong to a boy that used to live there, but Bruce didn't say that.
Jay gave him a wry smile and swung her legs, before hopping down from the working table where she's perched. “Don't need girl clothes, if that's what you mean, though I'm not going to say no.”
Bruce was silent after that, and Jay stood there for a moment, the _ drip drip drip _ of the cave's natural water source echoing in the cave.
“Are we done?”
Already, Bruce knew this would bring him a headache. He just hoped he wouldn't regret this. No one in this household had any inkling on how to deal with a girl her age. Bruce had to make some arrangements.
“Go upstairs,” he said. | 52418f97190648fe9138096aeb69e7be | ['8ce4dc48b9fc489dbd83c3443183f196'] |
Setting Fires
**Author's Note:**
> There should be more Ark/Guy fan content.
Gardner wipes the blood off his lips. He's grinning. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his bare chest is shiny with perspiration. His eyes look a little crazy and truly, Arkillo thinks he must be. No other human ever challenged him to a fight with bare fists. Gardner is the first and only, and he fights to _ win _ .
Their friendship started with Gardner standing over him, with bruised and bloody knuckle, grinning with the same light in his eyes as he's seeing right now. He was relentless, standing up again and again after Arkillo kicked him down, until Arkillo was the one staring at him from the ground.
And even during this sort of playfighting--or what Gardner would termed as ‘sparring’, Arkillo has to go all out with him.
Truth is, the last time time Arkillo felt this kind of thrill, was when he playfought with his mate. A female of his kind, long gone along with his destroyed homeworld. The females of his kind were fierce warriors and she was no exception. They had to be, in order to protect their eggs and their territories as the males went out to hunt.
And maybe that's why--or maybe, because it's been so long, that when he sees Gardner like this, his heart beats faster. His blood rushes in his veins. His tongue curls out of his mouth involuntarily to taste the air. It's thick with the airborne taste of Gardner's perspiration, his human scent, to the point of almost cloying to Arkillo's senses. His people do not sweat. Not like humans, at least, who release all kind of hormones to the air with it. It drives Arkillo nearly out of his mind.
Again, Gardner's mouth stretches into his trademark cocky grin and he beckons Arkillo closer. “Come on, big guy.”
Arkillo clenches and unclenches his fists. The challenge. It's the challenge that gets him most of the time. He growls and bares his teeth. His underlings in the Yellow Lantern would've grovelled where they stand, but this human, half his size and out of his Green Lantern uniform just grins wider.
Arkillo steps forward and there's no use denying that he's aroused now. His slit has parted inside his pants, and his cock slithers out to press against the fabric.
Gardner licks his bleeding lips. He's ready for Arkillo when Arkillo tries to swing a punch him. He ducks down, and Arkillo has to evade an upper cut to his jaw, blocks a potential punch to his ribs with his forearm. An opening presents itself, and he swings his fist into Gardner's face. He's pulling the punch, but Gardner would still feel it.
Then, a kick to his stomach makes him taking a step back. A small lull, a moment of anticipation and then, Arkillo surges forward again. Grunts and growls filled the space as they fight for the upper hand. Arkillo can hit harder, but Gardner has the advantage of being smaller than him and so damn fast. He knows how to target Arkillo's blind spots, and he's giving Arkillo's reflexes a run for his money. They keep going for a while, until _ finally _ , Arkillo overtakes Gardner and slams him up against the wall.
He growls. One hand pressing against the back of Gardner's neck and another holding Gardner's forearm.
“Yield,” Arkillo says, words barely comprehensible even to his own ears amid his growling.
Gardner twists his head, gives him a sideway look and a grin full of sass. “Got me good,” he says. “Not bad, big guy.”
And maybe Gardner himself doesn’t realize this, but the way he’s plastered against the wall means his backside is jutting out. It's the easiest thing for Arkillo to lean in, takes a slow, deep inhale of the scent coming off Gardner’s sweat glands. A heady mixture of all the things he associates with Gardner, but now he can detect something else. Something that makes the part of his brain that drives him to act on instinct trashing against his self control.
Before he knows it, Arkillo is fitting his jaw around the back of Gardner's neck. Sharp teeth on delicate human skin. He catches himself before he can give Gardner a mating bite like he would to his own kind. Humans probably don't mate like that.
“Ark?” Gardner said.
Arkillo grunts, releasing Gardner's neck but not stepping back. Not yet.
“What's happening back there?” Gardner squirms against Arkillo's hold. He's loosened his hold during his brief loss of self control and that makes Gardner able to press back, taking half a step backwards, and with their height difference, it brings his back flush with Arkillo's crotch.
Instinctively, Arkillo shoves him forward again. “Be still,” he warns.
Gardner huffs. “Oh, Ark,” he coos. “I knew it. You think I'm pretty.”
Arkillo's cock throbs. It's so hard that there would be no mistaking it for Gardner.
“Shut up, Gardner.”
“Mmm, you know that's not gonna happen,” Gardner says.
Despite himself, Arkillo has to hide his surprise. He didn't know that Gardner would flirt with him. He isn't familiar with human mating custom, but he's pretty sure if Gardner is saying no, he'd be flat on the ground by now.
Arkillo shoves him again, catches Gardner's jaw and fits a hand over his mouth. “Learn to listen.”
Gardner makes some unintelligible noises. Probably cursing Arkillo out. But the way Gardner stands on his tip toe, taking a step back to rub his ass at the underside of Arkillo's erection, barely reaching it due to their height difference--it casts away the last doubt that Garner doesn't want this.
Despite what others might believe about him, taking an unwilling mate is never his thing. And this does explain the new scent he had detected from Gardner earlier. He's just as affected by this as Arkillo is. |
b06f612b5d8140caa0586b6d2b07e32f | ['8ceaf0b07ce4400fb3ad7016918ac6db'] | Warmth of Your Hand
**Author's Note:**
> this was written for Fuwa a while back and zemira edited for me cause i had a looot of mistakes lol
> the drabble idea came from one of the stories from Tsuta Suzuki's book "A Strange And Mystifying story"
“Furihata, do you ever feel like there’s a transparent film… almost a membrane that keeps you from others?” Akashi asked bringing his hand up to inspect it.
“A membrane?” Furihata asked, turning to look at the redhead.
“Yes, when you have grown close to somebody and just when you think a.connection will be made… that membrane keeps you from making actual contact,” he said, holding his hand out almost as if he was pretending to push against something. “You just can't pierce through it, and it keeps others further away,” he finished, looking at the back of his hand.
Furihata stared at the thoughtful look on Akashi’s face as he stared at his own hand. Then he smiled, and without thinking he brought his own hand up and gently grabbed Akashi’s.
“Akashi-kun,” Furihata said to get the other's attention, but he already had it before that. “For somebody who seems to have so much success, I didn’t think these would be some of your thoughts. Though, you are right.” He nodded. “There are differences that people have which act as barriers from others, but…”
He paused for a moment, tilting his hand and looking at their linked hands. “See?” he asked with a smile.
Akashi looked toward their hands again.
“We’re touching. That’s a connection, right? I certainty can’t feel that membrane keeping me from feeling the warmth of your hand,” Furihata said, smiling fondly at their hands.
“I’m sure that Akashi-kun just needs to find the warmth he always wants to feel close to, and maybe that membrane will pop to allow it.”
Furihata looked back to see Akashi’s face, only to see a rather dumbfounded look. His eyes were blinking and wider than usual and his lips slightly opened unsure of what to say.
Immediately, Furihata felt his face heat up when he realized how cheesy he must have sounded. He pulled his hand away and scratched his cheek.
“I’m sorry for taking your hand like that with no warning. That was rude of me.”
Even though it was sudden, Akashi wasn’t thinking it was rude. The only current thought was that he wouldn’t mind the feeling of Furihata’s hand against his again in the near future. | d8a9cc4bed2d4a43a9b15e4959cb9e3d | ['8ceaf0b07ce4400fb3ad7016918ac6db'] |
First Day
Akashi Seijuro sighed, tired from unpacking. After a week of moving, he and his son had finally moved into their new, permanent home. Akashi Seijuro, CEO of a large and still growing business, which already had several buildings in Japan alone, and starting to branch out. He never intended to leave Japan though, at least not permanently. Seijuro moved to Tokyo with Akashi Tetsuya, his 3 year old son.
He glanced over at the sleeping toddler. Tetsuya’s first day of preschool started in the morning, and he seemed rather nervous during dinner even though he wasn’t very good at expressing himself. For this, Seijuro blamed himself. He’d never been the best at expressing himself to the fullest, so of course Tetsuya didn’t have the greatest role model for that. He was a single parent, divorced when Tetsuya was very young, and he had won custody due to his well-paying business. He could easily support his child with no problem, but he just wished he was better at nurturing his emotions.
Seijuro sighed, carefully sitting down on the couch next to his sleeping son.
“I’m sorry, Tetsuya… I promise I’ll try harder…” he mumbled quietly before carefully scooping up the small child and tucking him into his bed.
The morning came faster than he had expected; Tetsuya was dressed in his uniform. Small fists clenched his shirt as he stared up at his father. They stood outside the school in which he would be attending; it was a very nice school, nothing big and fancy though. He wanted Tetsuya to enjoy his childhood. Seijuro wasn’t like his father. He didn’t want to put Tetsuya through such hard trials, nor prestigious schools. He heard good things about this school from his connections; teachers were apparently very caring and watchful of their students.
“Alright, Tetsuya,” Akashi said while he crouched down to level with his son.
“I’ll be leaving for work now. I’ll come pick you up at 3, all right? I won’t let what happened at daycare happen here….”
Tetsuya stared back at his father, pressing his small lips together into a think line, and then nodded. Seijuro smiled and gently patted his son’s head.
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” said the redhead to sooth his son’s nerves.
“Good morning.”
Seijuro turned his head towards the voice that greeted him. He saw a male with short and slightly messy brown hair. His eyes big, but what got Seijuro for a moment was his smile.
“Morning…” Seijuro greeted back, as he slowly stood up once more.
“Yes, hello, it’s very nice to meet you. My name is Furihata Koki. I’ll be teaching class A.” He took a moment to look down at Tetsuya who stared up at him blinking, his face not showing any emotion. Furihata smiled down at the soft blue haired boy. “Hi, what‘s your name?” he asked and crouched down to Tetsuya‘s level like Seijuro had previously done.
“Akashi Tetsuya,” was the straight answer he got.
“Hello, Akashi-kun. What class are you in?”
“Class A,” Tetsuya answered in a soft voice; he glanced at his father then back at his, apparently, new teacher.
“Oh, very nice to meet you then. I can walk you to the classroom, if you’d like, Akashi-kun.” Furihata sensei offered with a small smile, stretching out his hand a bit towards the small boy. Tetsuya was a bit hesitant, but took his teacher’s hand.
Furihata sensei stood once more and smiled reassuringly at Seijuro.
“Have a good day, Akashi-san, I can promise you, Akashi-kun is in good hands.” He gave a small bow to the parent and Akashi returned it slightly.
Seijuro was in slight awe that Tetsuya had taken his hand without glancing up at him. He had no doubts that he was in good hands, as his teacher looked very caring. And what surprised Seijuro, was that it was very genuine. He was always good at telling fake kindness and true genuine kindness.
He left the school, glancing back to see his son enter the building with his new teacher, smiling at having no worries.
* * *
Seijuro cursed silently, staring at his phone as he tapped his hand on his suitcase. He had promised Tetsuya he would pick him up at 3. That what had happened during daycare wouldn’t be repeated here. 3:56 was what read the clock on his phone, memories of finding Tetsuya at the steps of his empty daycare came back to him. He just sat there waiting for him. He used to be so busy, that poor Tetsuya had been waiting for his arrival for two hours once.
When he asked his son what happened to his teacher, why had they had left when he was still here, the only answer he got was a quiet,
“They didn’t notice me,”
Never had his son complained. He’d just silently got in the car and let the day continue. Seijuro wasn’t dumb. He knew this affected him, clearly. It was 4:35 when his driver arrived to the small school. He was already feeling like the shittiest parent in the world as he walked up, but what made him panic, was when he didn’t see his son waiting outside for him.
“Tetsuya?”
* * *
“Ah, that was a rather nice day.”
Furihata hummed as he closed the door to his classroom. He walked out of buildings door and almost didn’t noticed the small body sitting on the stairs. He paused, eyes wide and blinking down at the small blue haired boy who only stared back with big blue eyes. Furihata glanced down at his clock to see it was already 3:30. All the kids should have already been picked up by now. He almost didn’t notice Tetsuya sitting in the corner of the steps, so he carefully sat down next to the small boy.
“Hey, Akashi-kun, are you waiting for your dad?” Furihata asked with a small nervous smile. |
ad7bba3886514e5e88ab52536200a094 | ['8cf2b2db70a941c5a1c2693433e88cd7'] | Baelish was small, but what strength he lacked in any fighting arena he would make up for in bed. His hips would crash against Ned’s ass, lightning quick and harder than Ned could take. But he would. Ned would revel in getting fucked like that, and to see the panting smile that would shine across Littlefinger’s face. Ned would gasp and groan as Petyr would smile and let out sighs of contentment. Petyr would pound into him and Ned would feel the man’s cock flaming hot inside him, but it would be the sort of pain he would want forever. He’d grab Petyr’s thighs and bring him in even tighter while Petyr moaned his name.
Ned had liked that quite a bit. “Ned,” Petyr would pur. “Oh Ned…”
The Lord of Winterfell’s hand was leaping up and down as he tugged himself closer and closer to climax. His fingers were sprinkled with precum already and he knew he was seconds away.
Ned would reach around Littlefinger and give his ass a good smack, which would make the other man gasp before he began really giving it to Ned. Petyr would be close, his eyes clenched shut as his mouth hung open.
"Ned!" he would cry, his voice high with panting and effort soon to be rewarded. Ned wouldn’t be able to stop smiling as he saw Petyr cry out one last, wailing time before collapsing onto Ned’s chest.
Ned groaned. Suppressing the moan behind his tongue was unbearable as his seed shot out onto the floor in a shocking burst. He fell back onto the bed and breathed deep as relief took him. He thought of holding Petyr to his chest as the smaller man dozed off into slumber, his soft face against Ned’s furry chest. Ned’s rough, Northern skin caressing and protecting Baelish’ smooth, pale body. Ned would make sure nothing ever made Petyr weep again. That nothing would hurt him and that he would never give Catelyn or that tournament a second’s thought ever ag—
Catelyn.
It was like a bad dream he kept waking up to. But, Ned realized slowly, Catelyn was miles away. She knew what happened when husbands and wives were parted, and this time it was certain no bastard was to come out of the arrangement. Ned shook his head. Best worry about this all tomorrow, he thought as he tucked himself into bed. Bad idea to think on a seed-spilled mind.
TO BE CONTINUED…
6. Chapter Six
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Littlefinger helps Ned resolve some inner conflict.
The next morning, Ned found himself strangely at ease. The thoughts and deeds of yesterday glazed over him as he ate his breakfast in peaceful silence, gazing out the window onto the landscape that seemed to him suddenly so much more filled with beauty and serenity. It was as if his infidelity had been a passing dream that, once awoken from, faded out of memory. That was, of course, until his gaze cast itself onto the coast. The rolling grey-green waves that made him so much happier than they did before suddenly revealed their true identity to his mind. It was not the waves, it was how closely their hue resembled Petyr Baelish's eyes. The sun shining down, reflecting like mischievous gleams he had grown so fond of in the glances of this other man. No woman had made him feel this way. Not Jon's mother, not Catelyn. Not even in fantasies where he'd imagined bedding any woman he wanted. Never had a smile stuck on his face and heart for so long.
He set his dishes aside and knew he had two choices. Either to leave King's Landing or to put his guilt out of his mind. And how would he do that? All he knew is that he was walking down the corridors all of a sudden, letting his legs guide him to a black mahogany door where he knocked twice. He heard a hushed rustling before a few bare footsteps were heard and a groggy voice answered through the wood:
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Ned smiled, loving Petyr's voice when it adopted this bratty tone. "Half past nine, Lord Baelish?"
There was silence for a moment before the door creaked open just ajar enough for Ned to see Littlefinger rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes while his bedhead remained in perfect disarray. "I run three whorehouses, Lord Stark. For me, nine o'clock is as early as sunrise."
They smiled at one another before Petyr subtly ushered Ned inside. He closed the door not one second before Eddard Stark wrapped his arms around him from behind and sprinkled his neck in kisses. Lord Baelish's mouth flew open, a soft purr escaping his lips before he reached behind him and tried to undo Ned's belt. But Ned stopped him, spinning him around and taking his chin between two strong fingers.
"I've been beside myself," he confessed in a low growl. "I can't stop thinking about you."
Petyr raised his eyebrows, pleased with himself. "There's a solution to that I would normally suggest, you know."
"I know," Eddard said, turning Petyr around once more and this time, throwing him bent over the bed. Petyr looked coyly over his shoulder, daring Ned to make the next move. Ned took his time, taking short and deliberate strides towards the perfect ass being presented to him. He knelt behind Petyr, whose eyes had clenched shut and whose tongue was eagerly running across his lips. Ned grabbed Petyr's sleep-trousers and yanked them down around the smaller man's ankles before beginning to caress his pale, smooth skin. He saw gooseflesh appear on Littlefinger's thighs and couldn't suppress a smirk. He took his powerful hands and gently spread Petyr's ass, taking his rough, warm tongue and sliding it up. | 4549afc5ded347859e5b460e7cffc6d1 | ['8cf2b2db70a941c5a1c2693433e88cd7'] | Further reckonings were put on hold as he opened the top drawer under the photographs and found a rogue bottle of Aleve jostling like a pool ball against the lube bottle and condoms. Wesley sighed with disgust as he discovered the Aleve had become slightly slick with some lube that had leaked out of the other bottle. His lip curled but he popped it open and swallowed one of the blue pills down. He placed the bottle back and exited the bedroom hastily. Wesley retook his place on the couch but, despite being awake a good twenty-four hours or more, he couldn’t get drowsy. His boxers were still damp from the saliva and cum of he and Francis’ passion. All of his clothes in fact felt like they were sticking to him. He was starting to feel like Goldilocks and the Three Bears but perhaps a few minutes in Francis’ shower would do him good. He made his way to the bathroom once more and removed his jacket, socks, and dress shirt. He was in his undershirt and trousers and felt apologetic undressing in another man’s bathroom. No, in any other man’s bathroom he wouldn’t be bothered. But Francis’ bathroom… It was just another way to be naked in front of Francis, but being without clothes was nothing compared to the emotional vulnerability he had flung at the other man. It was so much at once, Wesley thought with a furrowed brow. But Francis couldn’t know everything about him. In fact he may already know too much. How could Wesley expect Francis, or anyone in their right mind, to stay with him if they knew who he was? What he was? Useless, selfish, disgusting—
“Maybe a nap wouldn’t hurt after all,” Wesley thought. Daydreams and reality were starting to blend in his exhaustion. “Shower first,” he promised himself, “then a little lay down.” He removed the remainder of his attire and started the shower. Moments later James Wesley was alone in the cool water. He shut his eyes like he always did and let the pelting drops strike him face first. He let out a deep sigh and started to wash. Another habit was beginning to tug at him, one that had been with him his entire life. Every other form of self-consciousness would begrudgingly take their exit as James Wesley felt it in his throat, a soft hum first, but soon the song would fling itself free from his lips. He’d always had a penchant for the dreary and the longing, the kind of smoky songs that would be right at home in a film noir. “This isn’t broadway, Jimmy!” Kate had squawked through the bathroom door when he’d been a little boy. In the tub he’d been contemplating the chipping paint on his rubber duck’s smile while singing Billie Holiday and while it annoyed Kate to no end to hear her little brother’s ruckus while she was trying to put in her night-time curlers, she had to admit (to herself of course) she was a tad impressed at the little squirt’s vocal range. But today, in Francis’ shower, it wasn’t a melancholy melody that took Wesley but a song full of bliss and confidence. Paloma Faith was channeled and propelled across the small bathroom’s walls. Maybe he did it all these years to shut out the other voices that would corner him in his solitude, maybe not, but whatever the reason it always brought a smile to the man’s lips. That morning was no exception. He was about halfway through the application of the shampoo when—
“Wow!” The plastic bottle shot out of his hands and crashed off the showerhead and back into his shin. Wesley’s heart was pounding too hard for him to feel the pain and he popped his head out from behind the shower curtain to see Francis leaning back against the sink with a smile on his face.
“You have a great voice,” the blond man would have said. He made it about two syllables out before the shampoo bottle was launched at his head. Francis ducked and Wesley yanked the curtain back in front of his face. “Jesus!” Francis cried as the bottle ricocheted off the mirror and onto his shoes. “What was that for?”
“What are you doing here?” Wesley demanded.
“I live here,” Francis said as he picked up the shampoo. Wesley felt the shampoo start to leak into his eyes. A string of hissed curses wafted through the shower curtain and Francis couldn’t help chuckle a little.
“How long have you been here?” Wesley snapped. Singing was one thing. Singing and getting caught was another matter entirely. And for some reason, compliments made it infinitely worse. He heard some soft rustling from the other side of the curtain and Francis assured him: “Only a few minutes.”
"A few min—Christ,” Welsey groaned. He was viciously attacking the rest of the shampoo in his hair so he could leave the situation as quickly as possible. He was about to turn the nozzle off when the curtain opened. “Francis!” he yelled but when he turned around he saw the other man had already entered the shower, fully disrobed. The blond put his hand on Wesley’s to stop him from turning off the water.
“You’re not done yet,” he whispered and kissed Wesley softly on the mouth. The brunette’s heart was still pumping with embarrassment and anger but Francis had a way of making those thoughts disappear. “How’s your head?” Francis asked quietly. Wesley could hardly do more than nod before he flung himself at the other man. |
420852e933a0468b8f5b6ff95eb4e84a | ['8cf4722e973d4ae48f3044c0c9b4ecda'] | Stranger
He wakes up. Creegan's there, hand on Mark's hand, curious. Mark tells him to leave. I don't get sick, Creegan says, so shut up. He gives him a cup of ice water with a straw, like he's some sort of child. Drink.
Mark's too tired to be mad at him. He drinks. It's the best thing he's ever tasted.
He wakes up. Creegan's there. Reading a book, staring at the ceiling, playing gin with himself, something. Sometimes he just lies on his back with his eyes closed. Mark's not sure how he knows that Creegan's awake, those times. Subliminal knowledge, right down to the way he breathes. The unconscious movement of his eyes.
He wakes up. Creegan's there. Staring at him, with a furrow between his eyes like he's thinking something unspeakably deep and complex. Maybe he is. It turns his scar white, when he wrinkles up his forehead like that, and Mark's always tempted to touch it, quickly, once, but he never does.
He wakes up. Creegan's there, lying on his back with his eyes open. Damp from the moss and the rocks are soaking his clothes; cuts all over from broken glass. His hair is cropped short and there's a bullet hole in his forehead, powder-burn-black around the edges. They can't breathe. Splinters of glass glint in his cheek.
He wakes up. Creegan's there. Staring at him, thoughtful, his fingers creeping around Mark's wrists like tangling vines. Dizzy as Creegan snakes his hands up Mark's arms, to his throat, feeling the pulse there. Creegan's head is tilted to the side and he's not quite looking at Mark, and Mark feels as though he might still be sleeping.
He wakes up. Creegan's there, rootless, tangling heavy. Mark's drowning in newborn leaves and Creegan digs a hole deep in the earth for him, and looks down at him from that great height as if he only wanted to see what would happen.
He wakes up. Creegan's wrapped around him, eyes open, staring. He shoves Creegan away and goes to the bathroom; Creegan follows him into the shower. It feels still hazy like dreaming, slow. He can't tell if he's awake or asleep.
For you, it's probably because of the steam in here, Creegan tells him, waving his hand back and forth, forming fluffy cumulus clouds. I can't usually tell the difference anymore, myself. He catches Mark's wrist, presses his wet mouth to Mark's shoulder. The clouds he's made are gone.
David, he calls, maybe. David. He can't even tell if he's spoken; it's obscured somehow, like steam on glass. Glass glinting in his cheek. Wet mouth on his now, wet hand on the slick curve of his waist, and it's so hot in here, he'd be sweating if the water ever stopped, and Mark slides a hand over skin, down, down, (hard) and Creegan shudders deep against him. Mark is dizzy like falling, head heavy and light as air everywhere else, and Creegan is clutching at him like a jumper clinging to a building, the last real thing before dying. Creegan's teeth sink into his shoulder as he shakes and shakes, shaking Mark awake with sweet-sharp pain until he cries out grateful, as Creegan's hand slips between his legs.
He wakes up. Slowly opens his eyes to weak light that makes his head pound. His throat is dry as dust; he gulps stale water from the cup beside his bed. The quiet is as dense as fog except for his own small sounds, eerie. He feels, vaguely, that there should be someone else with him. Joints crack as he rolls his neck. It aches profoundly; he must have slept on it wrong.
He's sure he remembers someone else. He's not sure who. | 9221219e9521449091ba237a191c0e8c | ['8cf4722e973d4ae48f3044c0c9b4ecda'] |
The battle of evermore
**Author's Note:**
> the places on the road signs are real, i shit you not. look 'em up.
A week and a half after Sam's graduation from high school, he's in Washington state, just south of Aberdeen on Route 101. His father's hunting something in the deep woods that's been eating the occasional hiker, leaving their fly-blown bones in messy piles on the main trails. Sam thinks, mostly out of a perverse desire to argue, that it's just a really big bear with territorial issues and a taste for human flesh. Dean thinks it's some kind of possessed Sasquatch with a sick fucking sense of humor, and also that Sam is an idiot. Dad doesn't share what he thinks.
Sam knows it's wronger than wrong, and always feels guilty about it, but he can't help resenting these abstract strangers sometimes, these victims, always taking from Sam's life, from Sam's family, and never giving back. Sam thinks sometimes that one day, there won't be anything more to give, with the Winchester men stripped down like those bones but still hunting because it's all they know how to do, as insubstantial and hungry as ghosts.
The orientation packet from Stanford is a weight in his pack, a tangible presence in the room as Sam cleans guns, sharpens knives, tries to talk with Dean or Dad without mentioning it, feeling stupid and guilty. It's been months since Sam came home - another temporary home in another temporary town, so that he could finish up his last year of high school without too much fuss - to find the envelope in their mailbox, to hold it in shaking hands. He knew, common knowledge, that the thickness of college letters directly corresponded to the quality of the news they contained, but he still almost wanted to ask Dean to open it for him. He had imagined the look on Dean's face instead, and opened it himself.
When Sam finally works up the courage to tell Dean about Stanford, Dean just barks out a laugh and says, You're kidding, right? It goes downhill from there. Sam yells, Full ride, and, You should be proud of me! Dean informs Sam that he's a selfish fuck, and how can he even think of leaving Dad like this? Sam tells Dean that he's either brainwashed or an idiot, or maybe both, and it hardly matters who throws the first punch. It's dirty and close and unscientific, and they fight until they're bruised and aching and too tired to dance around each other anymore, and Dean shoves Sam up against the wall of their motel room, raining kisses on him like blows. There's blood in Sam's mouth, copper and salt, and Dean's shoulders are shaking as he touches Sam roughly, runs one hand down Sam's side, squeezing his hip, as the other stays firmly planted in the middle of Sam's chest, holding him down. Sam is breathless with anger and fear, misery and love, and he rocks against Dean, blindly raising his hands to Dean's face, fingers tangling in his hair.
They end up curled away from each other on the bed in the darkness. The heat of Dean's body feels angry, like a brand, and burns even from a distance. Sam doesn't have to wonder if this is the last time.
Dean beside him, breathes, You have to, Sam, you have to tell him, and Sam whispers back, I know, I know I do. When Sam wakes up, Dean is gone, and they don't talk again for three days.
* * *
Dad comes back when the hunt is finished, in the pale grey light before dawn, covered in dark blood. Sam watches his face as he sleeps, the lines on his forehead and around his mouth, the shadows under his eyes. Sam can't remember a time when his father didn't look tired and worn, even when he was smiling, and Sam can't help but wonder sometimes at what force it is that drives him with such purpose, if Sam will ever understand that part of him.
Sam tells him after breakfast. It doesn't go any better than he expected, maybe even a little worse. When he finally bangs out the door of his father's motel room, Dean is leaning on the Impala with Sam's big duffel lying packed at his feet. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and when he looks up from his feet at Sam, it's almost too much. Sam's chest is tight with grief and fury and something like relief, and he feels terribly, terribly compressed, as though he might burst right out of his skin without warning, like a too-full water balloon, and soak into the wet earth.
But Dean doesn't say anything, just looks at Sam a beat longer and then turns, hefting up his bag and slinging it in the back seat, and jerks his head at Sam to get in the car.
They drive in silence, Sam staring out at the signs passing by on the side of the road. Cape Disappointment. Clark's Dismal Nitch. The pressure in Sam's chest has eased into a kind of dumb misery, and Sam can't think of a time when he's felt more lonely, more sure that he was doing the right thing.
When they get into town, Dean buys Sam a coffee and drives him to the bus station, waiting as Sam buys his ticket. Sam has a black eye to match Dean's split lip, and people stare as they walk back to the car together, as Dean hands him his bag and squeezes his shoulder. You take care of yourself, little brother, Dean says, you stay safe, and he's turned and gone before Sam can say a word to him.
Later, on the bus, as he's digging through his bag looking for a book, Sam finds his knives that Dean has packed for him, a bundle of aloe and feverfew, for protection, and Dean's favorite lighter, and Sam has to shove his own fist into his mouth to keep from crying.
* * *
**epilogue**
Her name is Jessica. She's majoring in architecture and likes to paint, and her voice carries a hint of laughter that Sam could wrap himself up in like a blanket, fall asleep to the sound of it. When they walk together in the placid California sunshine, side by side, she's just the right height for him to drape an arm around her shoulders, for her to hug his waist and hook her thumb in his belt loop. He keeps his hands in his pockets.
Sam doesn't think of Dean, of cool Aberdeen fog beading in his hair, the shadows in his eyes as he said goodbye.
Damn, Sam, she says, peeking up at him from under her lashes, that's a hell of a shiner you've got there. There's a little smile on her face that makes Sam want to kiss the corner of her mouth.
Yeah, well, Sam says. You should see the other guy. |
f75b8d53c0ce44b3a683b5e35db4faca | ['8cf4d173f8e14b9cb20edb0ebe661b20'] | “Trent snores,” Hunter explained, as if it in any way explained why he though invading their tent would be a good idea, “I really don’t want to deal with that right now. I need my beauty sleep.”
“You can’t sleep here, Clarington.”
“Watch me do it.”
Hunter spread out his sleeping bag on the oversized mattress, lying down next to Sebastian and Blaine before really looking at them for the first time. His eyes widened when he took in their naked chests, realizing that the night was clearly too cold for sleeping without a shirt on.
“Wait, were you about to fuck?”
Blaine turned his back towards Hunter, burying his face against Sebastian’s front. He could feel a blush forming all over his body. He was here naked, extremely wet, sandwich between his boyfriend’s best friend and said boyfriend, and he still wanted to get banged into oblivion.
“I’m not gonna stop just because you showed up here.” Sebastian snorted before getting back on top of Blaine, spreading his boyfriend’s legs to get access to his pussy again. “I advise you to get the fuck out or you’re gonna get a live show.”
Blaine looked over at Hunter, who seemed to contemplate getting up again, before cuddling into his sleeping bag and crossing his arms behind his head.
“Still beats out listening to Trent.”
“I’m serious, Clarington, I’m about to fuck Blaine harder than you’ll ever fuck anyone ever in your entire life.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows at Sebastian, challenging him to make the first move. Blaine could feel Sebastian’s body freeze momentarily before getting back into action, his hand finding his dick to guide himself into Blaine.
“Are we really doing this?” Blaine asked, still confused by what was happening, his brain not working at full capacity since he was still so turned on. He looked up at Sebastian’s face, seeing him raise his eyebrow at him as to indicate the question if it was okay for Blaine as well. “Sure, whatever,” Blaine sighed eventually, spreading his legs more and repositioning himself more comfortably beneath Sebastian.
His erratic breathing came back when Sebastian started thrusting into him, his pussy forced to yield under the pressure of Sebastian’s cock against his walls. He could practically feel Hunter’s stares, and it turned him on more than he would ever care to admit. Mustering up all the courage Blaine had inside his body, he turned his head towards the left side of the mattress, where Hunter was lying.
He seemed so much closer than before, their noses almost touching. Hunter had turned on his side to get a better view of his friends, admiring the way Blaine’s skin blushed while Sebastian was thrusting into him without any reservations. He licked his lips when Blaine started looking at him, blowing out a bit of cold breath that hit Blaine against his forehead.
“Stop eye fucking my boyfriend,” Sebastian growled, his gaze now on Hunter as well, “I’m not going to let you touch him in any way.”
“I think that’s for Blaine to decide. Isn’t it Blaine?” Hunter reached out his hand to stroke over Blaine’s head, smoothing down his hair that stuck out in every direction. Blaine shuddered at the contact, biting his lip to not let out a moan. He looked up at Sebastian again to make sure he hadn’t offended his boyfriend by not slapping Hunter’s hand away immediately. Sebastian’s eyes seemed to turn even greener with jealousy, and Blaine would have found it funny if he wasn’t the one sparking the competition between the best friends.
“I guess he could, uh, touch me? If that’s okay with you?” Blaine asked, trying to figure out what Sebastian was thinking.
“Later,” Sebastian said, turning his full attention towards Blaine again, “when I’m done with you.”
With that Sebastian started thrusting into Blaine again, making the mattress they were on rock with each movement of his hips. Blaine held onto Sebastian’s arms, which were positioned on either side of Blaine’s head, his fingernails digging into Sebastian’s skin. Sebastian would never admit it, but he liked it when Blaine hurt him a little when they had sex, always getting off hardest when Blaine was scratching his back or biting his lip.
Sebastian leaned down to press a kiss against Blaine’s half-opened lips, his eyes opened, staring at Hunter who started to take off his shirt and pants, exposing his toned body. Sebastian hated to admit to finding Hunter’s body attractive, but he was seriously one of the hottest students at Dalton.
“Sebastian,” Blaine whined when their lips parted again, his hands stroking from Sebastian’s arms, where his nails had left red half-circles, towards the sides of his torso, scratching roughly over the skin there, “let me ride you.”
Sebastian nodded wildly, and Blaine could have sworn Hunter moaned quietly when the blanket that had covered them was pushed down to their feet. Sebastian pulled out of him, leaving Blaine feeling empty for a few seconds before Blaine got on top of Sebastian, stroking over his cock a few times before sinking down on top of it.
“Damn, Smythe,” Hunter laughed when he saw Sebastian’s cock, “you’re a grower.”
Blaine quickly got into a rhythm on top of Sebastian, letting Sebastian thrust into him from below a few times before he bounced on top of him. They alternated like that for a few minutes, Blaine starting to massage his clit slowly to get himself worked up to an orgasm.
“I’m so close,” Blaine whispered, the finger’s that were rubbing of his clit speeding up. Sebastian grabbed him by his hips, holding him in place while thrusting up into him, making Blaine’s entire body shake on top of Sebastian. Blaine bit into his fist while coming, not being able to keep entirely quiet, his strained moans sounding too loud in the tiny space they were in. He alternated between looking at Sebastian and Hunter, who had started stroking over the bulge in his boxers. | 96e047cd9c1b454e8851e3f509f494b8 | ['8cf4d173f8e14b9cb20edb0ebe661b20'] | “We took a shower together at first, at his house. Oh my gosh, Jeff, his house is so huge and beautiful, it honestly looks like it’s out of a prospectus!”
“I don’t care about his huge house, tell me about his huge dick!”
“Okay,” Blaine rolls his eyes, “but only if you tell me about how your relationship with Nick is going.”
Jeff sighs out loud and leans back against the wall adjacent to his bed, pulling his legs up to his chest. Blaine gets comfortable next to him, letting their shoulders touch lightly in an attempt to calm Jeff down and make him talk about his problems.
“I don’t think Nick is happy with me anymore. He’s cold towards me and when we have sex it feels as if he just uses me to get off.”
“Didn’t you say that you wanted him to be more aggressive with you?”
“Yeah,” Jeff admits and lays his head on Blaine’s shoulder, “I thought I would like it, but I it just makes me feel awful. I like being submissive, but I don’t like him ordering me to do stuff, or him spanking me. I feel like I’m bad at being a sub.”
“Everyone feels differently about how submissive they like to be,” Blaine repeats the words from their submissive classes, stroking over Jeff’s back, “it’s why we had the submissive rights movements. Some subs just want to lead a life without dominance and submission.”
“Maybe,” Jeff sighs, “I haven’t made my mind up about it yet. I might try dating a sub for a while when I’m college. You know, experiment and stuff.”
“I’d totally experiment with you if I wasn’t practically married already.”
“Yeah, about that,” Jeff starts, shifting his legs, “why are you still wearing your purity ring? You’ve had sex with Sebastian.”
“Not really,” Blaine says uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to admit to Jeff that he sees anal sex as a loop hole to not lose his virginity, since that’s what Jeff and Nick saw as losing their virginities. “I don’t really count it because, you know…”
“Because anal sex isn’t real sex? That’s pretty offensive, Blaine.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Blaine replies, biting his lip. “It’s just that I want to be intimate with Sebastian but I can’t because of my promise. I need to justify it like that because otherwise Sebastian will get bored of me.”
Jeff sighs and lies down on the bed, closing his eyes and spreading his legs out over Blaine’s lap.
“Having a boyfriend is the worst, right?” Jeff laughs.
“Absolutely,” Blaine agrees and leans his head against the wall, smiling quietly to himself.
~
Sebastian finds Nick quietly studying in one of the empty common rooms in the main building on Monday evening. He’s been holding it together for the entirety of the day, treating Nick as if Sebastian didn’t know what the other dom had said to Blaine about their relationship. He walks up to Nick and plops down in the chair opposite him, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pushing his legs out in front of him to make himself as big as possible while sitting. He would need to seem as dominant as possible during this conversation and make Nick feel what it meant to insult his sub.
“Sebastian,” Nick nods at him before turning back towards his homework, copying down problems for his Calculus class in his notebook.
“Blaine told me about the conversation you had with him,” Sebastian doesn’t even bother with pleasantries. He’s annoyed at Nick – he’s angry, even, and he doesn’t want to give Nick the privilege of playing it nice.
Nick stops writing and turns off his calculator, sitting straight up in his chair and facing Sebastian. At least he knows he fucked up, Sebastian thinks grimly before talking.
“If you insult him, make him feel bad, or even get near him without me around to take care of you one more time, I will not hesitate to go after you.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, Sebastian,” Nick replies, and Sebastian can see his muscles tensing, “but Blaine and I were good friends before you come along. He didn’t use to need someone to take care of his problems.”
Sebastian stands up from his chair, a screeching noise from it being pushed over the floor echoing from the walls of the spacious common room. He leans forward onto the table, his fists balled up as he stares Nick down, who is trying his best to stay seated straight in his chair without slouching down and showing submission towards Sebastian.
“I don’t want you near my submissive again, Duval,” Sebastian spits, “You might have had your fun imagining a happy, little life with him as your sub but that time is over now. You need to _fuck off_.”
Nick stands up too, stepping away from the table and coming near Sebastian. Nick knows they’ll likely get suspended if they start a fight with witnesses around, but the common room is empty and he has his reputation to lose. The other doms already see Sebastian as their leader, and if he could get out of this conversation as the winner he would gain back his popularity while Sebastian has to give in to lick his wounds.
“You can’t even get him to fuck you, right?” Nick laughs in Sebastian’s face. “That’s why you’re so mad. Blaine won’t give it to you even though you put your life on hold for him.”
“Better than having a sub who’s not satisfied with their dom even though they continuously break school rules to have sex. News flash, Duval, some little birdy may sing about your weekly meet ups with Jeff. And some other little birdy may tell the other guys how utterly _bored_ he is with your dick.” |
96fad2f6fb104c5a9c8d73af95d12f6e | ['8d0d2472f12d4ea6929687bd125aeae4'] | > Thanks again for the reviews on the previous chapters. I know some of you wanted to see more from Ada's point of view and rest assured, there is a lot more to come from here.
Dawn on Saturday found Ada wide awake and mindlessly stroking her cat as she contemplated the events of the night before. At several points during the night she had needed to stop herself from transporting to Hecate’s room, banging on the door and begging to explain. But that would have been pointless. She knew Hecate well enough to understand that after such disappointment, such exposure, she would not be receptive to hearing anything Ada had to say.
“I caused this.”, Ada berated herself yet again. “I encouraged her, I disappointed her.” And then, the worst feeling of all. “I hurt her. Oh Pendell, what am I to do?”
The gentle cat bumped his head against his mistresses shoulder, almost as if he was encouraging her to go and fix what she had broken.
“I can’t.” Ada shook her head. “It’s too raw, I need to give her time to lick her wounds. Then, hopefully we can put it all behind us and move on.”
It should have been impossible for a cat to give a sigh of exasperation, but Pendell was no ordinary cat. Ada knew what that noise meant and she agreed, she was the one at fault and she needed to be the one to repair the damage. “I’ll take care of it.”, she whispered into the soft fur. “I just hope she’ll listen, that she’ll know I never want to hurt her, but it can’t be.”
Pendell purred again, this time in an almost questioning way.
“It just can’t my pet, friendship has to be enough. She’s too important to me, to the school and I’m too old to take the risk. I don’t think I could survive if I lost her. Maybe I’ll explain more some day, when it doesn’t hurt so much.”
At that point Ada broke down in sobs, thinking of what she had thrown away. Every secret wish, every private thought, everything she wanted had been right there in front of her. Hecate Hardbroom, the woman she desired, ‘Loved’, she corrected herself, for so long had offered herself and Ada had said no.
“You stupid old woman.”, she shouted into the air before banging the pillow with frustration and angrily dragging the covers up over her head before falling into a restless sleep filled with thoughts of what she had thrown away.
It was well past breakfast time when she woke again. Tempting as it was to stay in bed and avoid all human contact for the rest of the day, possibly for the rest of her life, even on a Saturday she had a school to run. And as difficult as the prospect of facing everyone was, the thought of the questions that would come if she stayed away was far worse.
She forced herself from the bed, her body feeling heavier than usual, her brain filled with a fog of despair and exhaustion, and made her way slowly to the shower. Experience told her that on a day like this a cleansing spell would not be enough, she needed real water, as cold as she could stand it to wake her up both physically and mentally. It wasn’t a miracle cure but it revived her enough that she could dress herself, choosing her most comfortable skirt and her oldest pink cardigan so at least she resembled Ada Cackle, on the outside at least. Inside she knew she was nowhere near herself but she hoped the tricks she learned during her life to cover up her unhappiness would serve her on this day.
Hecate had been right the previous evening, Ada did have happy childhood memories. As she had gotten older, there had also been terrible times, times when Agatha had pushed their parents too far, times when she had hurt Ada so deeply that all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry. But she hadn’t, she had plastered on a smile and lost herself in the happy places she could create in her mind. Ada had a big heart and as her mother often commented, possibly a bigger imagination. It was the one thing she could use to get away from the realities of living with a sister who appeared to want nothing more than to see her fail at life. She could even escape from her parents well meaning but sometimes stifling intentions.
Left with just her imagination Ada’s life could be anything she wanted it to be and shared with anyone she desired. And for quite some time there was only one person that she imagined sharing her life with in that way. Hecate.
“So why did I deny what my heart has wanted for so long?”, she addressed her mirror image.
_“You know why.”_ , a voice came from inside her mind. A voice similar to her own but harsher, a voice that belonged to her greatest critic. _“What do you have to offer? Nothing.”_
Memories, all validating how correct the voice was, looped through Ada’s mind.
_“No, no, no.”_ Realising that if she went down that particular rabbit hole she may not leave the room for some time, she pushed the thoughts aside, schooled her face into its trademark cheerful expression, opened the door and made her way to the centre of the school.
“Good morning Miss Cackle.” A group of eager first years waved frantically at their principal, wanting to ensure she had seen them.
“Good morning girls, what a lovely day. Make sure you get some fresh air, make the most of it before winter rolls around.”
“Yes Miss.” | ac262dbccff74c29bb791aa6232c311c | ['8d0d2472f12d4ea6929687bd125aeae4'] | As Hecate checked then in, Ada paid close attention to her, and even closer attention to the woman behind the desk. She watched the smiles from the younger witch who was leaning in a little bit closer than necessary and how when she realised Ada was watching, she blushed and looked away while Hecate signed whatever paperwork was required. Not that she was worried, Ada knew how attractive Hecate was but more importantly, how faithful. “I see you were attracting attention again.”, she remarked as Hecate walked back towards her.
“Not me.” Hecate shook her head. “Oh no, it was you causing the stir this time. That young woman was extremely taken with you.”
“She’s young enough to be my daughter.”, Ada spluttered. “Granddaughter even.”
“Not quite, but I don’t think that would matter to her. I saw how she looked at you, how her face dropped when I told her I was here to celebrate with my wife.”
“Did you say anything to her?” From what she had seen, it didn’t look like Hecate’s sharper side had come in to effect but it was sometimes hard to tell.
“I thanked her for being so attentive and for upgrading our room. Though perhaps I should thank you for that.” Hecate, aware that someone was watching them, leaned down and brushed her lips against Ada’s cheeks. “Are you ready to eat?”
There was another surprise in store for Ada as rather than entering the main dining area; they were shown to a private room.
“I thought this might be a more intimate setting.”, Hecate explained once the maître d' left them. “But if you’d rather be with other people….”
“Are you joking? Dinner alone with you, in this beautiful room, what more could I want?” Ada looked around in delight, her gaze falling on the pink rose placed across one of the table settings. “Another rose?”
“Well, you did make rather a fuss that you didn’t get one during my episode.”
“You know I was teasing.” Ada took her seat and softly fingered the perfect petals while Hecate sat across from her. “But I do love receiving flowers from you.”
“And I love to give them to you.” Hecate waited until Ada placed the flower back on the table before passing over a menu. “You’re always better at choosing meals than I am.”
Eagerly, Ada poured over the menu, seeing plenty of options that she thought would be suitable before making her choice. “How about the tapas? They look tasty, we can share them, and they won’t be too heavy. ” A quick glance at the dessert menu told her the deliciously rich mousse she had sampled the previously was still available and she had every intention of saving room for that.
“That sounds perfect.” Hecate agreed while glancing at the wine list. “And a bottle of red, I see they have the one we liked the last time.” At Ada’s sign of agreement, she sent their order to the kitchen.
The beauty of a magical restaurant was that while there was plenty of staff available if you chose not to, you didn’t have to interact with anyone. The order was sent directly to the kitchen where the chefs would prepare the fresh ingredients using a mix of magic and traditional cooking methods before transferring it to the correct table. Even the wine appeared instantly in a small glass for Hecate to taste before confirming that it was to her satisfaction and summoning the full bottle.
Once her glass was full, Ada sat back and savoured the first taste. “That is good.” She took another sip before reaching for her lover’s hand. ”Thank you for doing all of this Catey. It’s been a hard few months for both of us, hasn’t it?”
“It has.”, Hecate agreed. “But we don’t need to talk about that tonight.”
“I know, and I don’t want what’s happened with the school to be the focus of our evening. I do however want to tell you something. There is no way I could ever have gotten through these months without you, professionally and most definitely not personally. I don’t think you realise how important you are, not just to me but to the school, the other staff, the students, all of us.”
“Ada.” Hecate flushed. “This isn’t about me.
“Let me finish. Catey, I need you, I will always need you, and I love you very, very much.”
“I need you too.”, Hecate whispered. “And of course I love you. I adore you. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” Ada lifted the hand that was still in hers to her lips. “I will always know.” She paused for a second as she heard a much-loved piece of music playing. “It’s funny, the background music, every song seems to be one that I know and like.”
Hecate smiled shyly across the table. “I may have had something to do with that. I wanted us to listen to music that had meaning for us.”
“And you say you’re not romantic.” Ada had never heard such nonsense in her life. Hecate was the most romantic person she knew. And not just because of big gestures like this, every single day she did something that made Ada happy, and to her, that was romance.
“Only for you, my love.”
At that moment their food arrived, plates of olives, bread, cheese, seafood, vegetables and meat that were all delicious and as intended, easy to share.
“Oh, these prawns are good.” Ada nodded her approval. “They’re just like the ones we had when we went to Madrid.” |
7024b8b2fe7c4634b16f02f738be36a8 | ['8d463617cce44044a36fe66e3e6cfdbe'] |
The Perchfellows
The purpose of them? Nothing. Foreign, not of this world, and alien, they were never meant to be on this earth. Terra is and continues to be merely a step in a thousand year flight of refugees seeking asylum from hunters from far beyond the visible stars. They had happened upon the earth quite by accident and have only stayed as their ships were to badly damaged to continue. Some would say it’s a miracle and others, a curse.
When the hunters had arrived, they became hidden, blending in and becoming the shadows that others fear. Their only goal is to save each other and the Queen, and so they have endured millennia never breaking a resonating vow. It is simple. Don’t let them know.
And then one day, a fellow percher is spotted. After years and years of hiding it’s shocking, earth- shattering really to be brought into the light, to actually be seen. It’s unthinkable and a grave security risk. The perch fellows are uneasy. The consequences and the outcome could either destroy an entire species or save it. WIth a flutter of wings and a scrabble of claws, the fellows rose into the cloud cover above the city. The Queen had issued an order, “Return with the human. They must not be harmed. Answer questions to ease her mind only.”, She had said, voice booming, echoed and whispered all at the same time. Such a verbal decree would not be disobeyed. And then She, The Queen, was gone. Wings folded around her and she sank back into the darkness that was so familiar.
Commander clicked his teeth and gestured down to land around here the others had spotted the human. They were alone, smoking a cigarette on an open roof, and seemingly unaware of the incoming squadron.
Paying no heed to the perfectness of the situation, although noted, the risk was taken. It was worth it. The five flyers in arms formed a loose semi circle around the human, as Commander landed, facing them. Quickly the collective decided this human was female according to human stereotypes. Although perch fellows were shy, Commander was the chosen mouthpiece for the collective this time.Wings folded to appear smaller, claws held inwards and eyes downcast to seem non threatening and respectful. Commander shuffled forward. A pulse of confusion ran through the fellows in arms as the human made no change in body language. Where was the fear so commonly seen in this irrational species? She took another drag from her cigarette and blew out the smoke to her right, eyes never leaving Commander. “Well this isn’t what I expected when I came up here.” she said, almost ruefully. A flick and a pinch of ash fell.
“Do not be afraid. Your audience is wanted, allow us to take you to the meeting place. We will do you no harm, it is promised.” Commander’s voice rumbled and caught, scratchy from disuse.
“Why? I’m having a lovely time on this roof. I don’t want to go anywhere.” she bemusedly said, “Also what in the name of the bells of Notre Dame are you? I’d say aliens or maybe gargoyles?” glancing shrewdly up and down a pout formed, creasing her face. Commander flinched backwards, embarrassed to be singled out. Wings shifted and taloned toes tapped like naughty school children being scolded.“We are not from this earth, human. May we escort you now?” Commander replied, deflecting the rest of her questions. Uneasy ran through the colony. Every move was being carefully analyzed.
The human snuffed her cigarette butt, sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lipstick was smudged the dark blue a messy ombré. “Fine I’ll go…. after you tell me, why me?”
“You saw. You saw us.” Commander said whining low in their chest. Hands extended pleadingly. “Come with.”
Then, her in the arms of two perch fellows they took off into the sky to the unknown. Frigid air was biting at her cheeks but the others didn’t seem bothered. They were already so cold what seemed cold to her might seem warm to them.
Them. They the perch fellows was what they called themselves. So worried like children and all of the time in a hurry yet stagnate. What were they afraid of? She’d snort out of the hilarity of the situation. The gargoyles of notre dame, afraid. It didn’t seem possible, but then again stone doesn’t move as if alive. But here she was.
They sky, unnaturally dark for the time seemed to close in as four of the fellows touched down. The two holding her hovered and slowly landed as two other reaches up to catch her, just in case.
Commander reached out to the Queen informing her of the success. Warm approval seeped through out. Just as it should be. And then terror.
An enemy. The hunters. Small and scaly able to hid and strike at just the right time. All fellows froze thinking, coming up with a solution, and then a claw twitch later they were once again the well oiled survival machine that their species was. The pause was not unnoticed. She, the human in confusion studied them. Nothing was really out of the ordinary for the city.
A traveling troupe, a few nondescript carts and a few school groups. Eyes flashed like flickering candles and then time seemed to unfreeze. The fellows moved with such a nervous energy, she was reminded of bees hurrying about to defend the hive from a wasp.
The eyes of the stone gargoyles seemingly followed her as she was quickly ushered inside. She realized that they were the silent sentries of this species, loyal guardians for hundreds of years. Just how long had they been here? | 7c429f5634d149a0aecdce9688972ed2 | ['8d463617cce44044a36fe66e3e6cfdbe'] | What does it take to break?
**Author's Note:**
> Tw for mild gore, sensory issue descriptions, trauma, and suicidal thoughts. This is an installment of Nebula's Memories. This happens to be a bad one.
Choking inky oil drips onto the floor. A puddle has slowly been forming over the hours. It looks like starless space. The light of the candles don’t reach the liquid. A missed place drop angles towards the cup next to you. The drop hits with an erriely loud plink and an echo on the side of the cup. The echo, rattling with a gunshot likeness, ricochets against walls that don't exist. The hiss of the burning candles grows louder, like a pit of vipers, the creak of a building settling seams to deafen, and a directionless draft carries a chill that makes you shudder and clutch to yourself tighter.
This only digs the manacles in deeper to your already raw skin.
The black ichor continues to drip.
Sweat and dirt caked hair sticks to your back and face and shoulders. It itches. Hyperaware, every strand seems to be intent on driving you insane. A haze of smoke surrounds you, somehow never crossing the border of the circle you’re chained in. It curls and writhes as if alive but you know that the only living thing in this room is you. Only you’re soft breath stirs the heavy air.
It’s surprising you still have a heartbeat. The huge blood stain seems to be yours judging from the closed wounds on yourself. The dried blood matches your own shade. Irrefutable evidence.
Your skin creaks, wanting to split on the cold, unwelcoming floor. Fear desperately keeps you awake as dehydration, hunger and fatigue crawl towards you. You shake yourself, unsticking your hair and shifting yourself to one of the poles you’re chained to. Chewing on your hair you try and find the walls of the room. An outline of a door blurs at the edge of your strained eyes, tantalizing in its closeness. You’d swear you could hear footsteps and cackling laughter. Maybe even the unmistakable thuds of something hitting flesh. You can taste the pain but it could be anyone's.
Wrapping yourself tighter in your arms you bite your knee and ignore the burn of your throat as you slowly suffocate on the black fluid that drips out of your tear ducts and salivary glands.
The stillness stretches. Time passes yet the candles never burn out.
You hope you’re forgotten. Maybe you’ll get to die this time.
The drips continue. |
9ff7de98c3d34c149cfabaad3fea95af | ['8d4720b3cd0c47b188a34fe4cdeb284a'] |
**Author's Note:**
> come visit my tumblr's
>
> SFW: https://fallenqueen2.tumblr.com
>
> NSFW: https://risingqueen2.tumblr.com
“I love you.” James blurted out one day in the workshop, he was writing in a journal while Tony was working on some sort of upgrade to his and Peter’s suits.
“I love you too babe.” Tony replied automatically, like it was a reflex but it was one that caused the two to freeze up.
“Holy crap… That’s right, I love you.” Tony said realization in his voice as he bolted out of his chair to stride over to where James was sitting looking like he was broken.
“Oh God did I break you, I’m so sorry! I just um…” Tony started to ramble before his words ran dry and he nervously glanced at James whose lips were stretching into a happy smile.
“I love you Tony, I love you, I love you, I love you!” James all but sang happily as he dropped kisses all over Tony’s face only feeling happier when Tony giggled softly at the scruff of his facial hair.
“You missed a spot.” Tony tapped his own lips as he stuck his lower lip out in a pout.
“That is the most important spot, how could I have missed that?” James rectified that error by kissing Tony square on the lips and like all the romance novels said fireworks exploded behind his now closed eyelids.
“Damn, we are doing much more of that.” Tony smiled goofily when the two broke apart.
“Much, much more.” James accented each word with a light kiss to Tony’s lips making the other man smile.
~~/~~
It had been a month since their workshop declarations of love and Tony loved every moment of it, from the kisses and cuddles to the way James just sat there while Tony worked just to keep him company. The falling asleep and waking up to him was one of Tony’s favorite things now, he knew that James did it to make sure Tony slept and it made Tony love him more.
One thing was confusing to the genius though. Sure they had made out and lots of groping and fondling, but that was it. Everything was very PG and Tony was a human male and James was amazingly attractive.
“Alright FRI, I need to get my man in bed and soon. I need romance! I want this to be perfect!” Tony said aloud and he could have sworn he heard FRIDAY squeal before files appeared on the holographic computer in front of him.
Peter and Harley seemed to have found out and suddenly he was getting suggestions left right and center, this included M.J and Gwen (both friends of Peter). Some were good like ‘candles, favorite foods, a few roses but don’t go overboard’ and some were not so much like ‘roses everywhere, tuxedo’s, the tango or whatever they do in those old time movies’.
Either way Tony ended up in one of his still fully intact and clean pair of jeans and a plain V-neck shirt. He was fumbling with the rose he was holding in his hands as he waited for James to enter their room. He had plums (James adored them) on a bowl by a few candles and soft music (that Peter introduced James too) playing in the background and the pillows and blankets were extra fluffy.
“Tony? What’s all this about?” James sounded like he was in awe when he entered the bedroom that was slowly becoming more their bedroom than Tony’s. He took everything in with a happy smile appearing on his lips.
“I uh just wanted tonight to be special… I don’t think there is a good way to ask this, but if it’s all right with you I was wondering… I was hoping you would do the honor of sleeping with me tonight. You know both of us naked in bed together, doing things and oh God this is a train wreck and I’m horrible at this. Do you even like roses? Peter, M.J and Gwen said everyone likes roses, but what if you don’t? Do you even like flowers?” Tony descended into rambling chaos.
James cut Tony off with a heated kiss; hands cupped Tony’s neck softly holding him close. When they broke their kiss Tony had a light flush over his face and his mouth was still parted.
“I love that you went through so much for me Tony, it truly does mean a lot. I’m not sure flowers are my thing but I appreciate it nonetheless. You know I’m ain’t no virgin right?” James chuckled as he ran his thumb over Tony’s lower lip as his voice took a deeper, huskier tone.
“Yeah, but it’s your first time with me.” Tony pouted as James chuckled at his adorable lover.
“I love you Tony.” James stated firmly as he tugged Tony closer so he could feel the hard line in his pants. “Tell me what you want babe.”
“I want you inside of me so bad James.” Tony groaned as he clung to James’ strong shoulders, not wanting to admit that his knees were getting weak.
“I want that too darling.” James smiled as his cock twitched at the mere thought of Tony sprawled out underneath him.
“Then get to it Solider.” Tony teased as he hooked his fingers into the belt loops of James pants.
“Sir, yes sir.” James laughed as he easily lifted Tony up into the air making the genius wrap his legs around his waist in order to get some balance back.
The two ended up laughing lightly when they ended up falling on the bed but Tony held James close and the longhaired man kissed him passionately as Tony ground their hips together. | 993bd98e479242d598d6b6c938722f74 | ['8d4720b3cd0c47b188a34fe4cdeb284a'] | Lancelot shook his head fondly as he traced his lips, he now understood. Merlin was to be protected from the traitors; he had to end the two in order to protect Merlin completely. He had to plan this down to the last detail if he was to succeed in keeping Merlin by his side from now on.
~~/~~
Merlin stepped into the armory and slid down next to the rack of swords and let out a shuddering breath.
"What was that all about…?" Merlin muttered to himself, rubbing his upper arms like he was cold as he closed his eyes. He snapped them open as every time he closed his eyes he saw the memories of not only what just happened, but of what he and Lancelot had been prior to the Knights death.
He knew from the test he had done that Lancelot was a Shade, just the body and not the real Lancelot, not his Lancelot. He knew that! So why was he feeling the way he used to about the Knight? What was happening to him?
Before he could think anymore about it, the door swung open to show the rest of the Knights of the Round Table and Camelot's King enter the room to gather their weapons for training.
" _Mer_ lin! There you are!" Arthur rolled his eyes at the sight of his manservant as he gently hauled his friend (not that he would ever admit it) to his feet.
"Sorry Sire." Merlin muttered distractedly, not noticing the raised eyebrow he was getting from the blond at the not sarcastic 'sire'.
"Merlin, mate, are you ok?" Gwaine stepped closer to Merlin and a flash of silver caught his eye. He lifted Merlin's wrist to show the silver bracelet hanging there loosely.
"Don't touch it!" Merlin suddenly snapped yanking his wrist away and covering the bracelet with his free hand eyeing the Knights warily.
"Whoa there!" Gwaine raised both hands in surrender, taking a step back as he looked at the others in confusion.
"That's very fine craftsmanship Merlin, where did you get it?" Elyan asked softly, using his blacksmith background to pose the question everyone else was thinking.
"From Lancelot." Merlin said happily, fingers tracing the edge of the bracelet lovingly.
"Lancelot?" Leon asked recognizing the love struck look Merlin was sporting from serving girls around the castle.
"Its so great that he's back isn't it? I've really missed him." Merlin sighed, his eyes going hazy as he spoke.
"Indeed it is great… Merlin, are you alright?" Arthur asked noticing the odd look in Merlin's usually clear blue eyes.
"I'm better than that!" Merlin held his wrist against his chest before he shook his head in confusion his eyes clearing. He placed his hand against the side of his head and looked around.
"On second thought, I think something's wrong with me… I'm going to go lie down…" Merlin muttered and stumbled out of the armory.
"…What just happened?" Gwaine looked at the others, never having seen Merlin act like that before.
"Did you see his eyes go hazy?" Elyan asked the others hoping he wasn't seeing things.
"I've seen that look before, on serving girls when they are in love. It looks and sounds like Merlin is in love with Lancelot?" Leon surmised.
"I've seen both of those things before… On people under a love spell." Percival said softly and the room fell silent.
"Lancelot would never do that." Arthur shook his head in denial.
"Not him, but everything since he came 'back from the dead' has been… Off." Gwaine commented.
"You don't think… Morgana has something to do with this?" Arthur swallowed, a stone settling in his stomach.
"I wouldn't put it past her." Gwaine grumbled.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the warning bells. They exchanged looks; they each grabbed their swords and rushed out of the armory.
It didn't take them long to find the scene, Arthur blanched at the sight before him. Lying on his back, eyes' staring unseeingly at the ceiling was his uncle Agravaine. Blood was pooling around him, a sword protruding from his chest and a note held tightly in his fingers.
Leon gingerly pulled the note out of his clutch and read it over face turning dark before he glared hatefully at the body of Agravaine.
"He was a spy for Morgana." Leon spat in disgust, handing the note to Arthur.
Arthur scanned the note, it stated where the two would meet that night and when, Morgana's seal was at the bottom of the letter and that cemented it for the King.
"Agravaine was a traitor, he was here meeting with Morgana." Arthur announced with finality.
"Princess we have a problem." Gwaine straightened up from the spot where he had been crouching. He held up a familiar silver bracelet and pointed at a small pool of blood staining the stones next to his feet.
"Merlin." Arthur breathed out.
"He must have been passing and saw the two meeting, something must have happened for Agravaine to die like this… We can assume that Morgana took Merlin after Agravaine died." Leon deduced as he inspected the scene more thoroughly.
"If she hurts one hair on his head." Gwaine swore colourfully under his breath and Arthur found himself agreeing with Gwaine's death threats.
~~/~~
Merlin groaned as he slowly woke up, his head was pounding like a drum and he felt like his whole body was sitting in a tub ice. He peeled his eyes open and squinted into the darkness of the room.
"Merlin." Lancelot's voice echoed softly in his head. The Warlock turned his head to the side slowly to see the Knight sitting next to his side.
"L-Lancelot?" Merlin's voice was raspy with disuse.
"You're safe here Merlin I swear it." Lancelot promised as he gently stroked the raven locks of his beloved. |
4e219dea4d734c4c9ff4a612a5792027 | ['8d57f684447b41b4a3ce340714424d5f'] | Your torso sliding through the bars as the force of your push sent you through completely and onto the dirt. Gasping in pain as air re-entered your lungs. Burning just and Ruviks hands had.
Looking behind you, the horde had managed to sort itself out and the first in line ran straight into the bars. A loud clang resounding as one’s skull smashed directly into a bar. They were trapped on the other side, arms reaching through trying to grasp and swing their small melee weapons. Your pain faded much too quick, reminding you of how it felt when dreaming. It wasn’t really there. You were aware of S.T.E.M. you were now aware of Ruviks possible extent of control. Did your level of awareness limit its effects?
Pushing yourself up, leaving the horde behind as you ventured deeper into the alley. Climbing through and over more obstacles into a tight side street.
“(Y/N!)”
You froze, looking around but seeing no one until you heard metallic footsteps above you.
“Sebastian!” You called upwards as he began to climb down off of a fire escape. Landing in front of you. His arms outstretched towards you but he hesitated. Seeming to battle with something within himself. Though his raised arms were too tempting; throwing yourself into his chest and breaking down. Sobbing into him, finally able to feel safe as he wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tightly as you sobbed heavily, hyperventilating even. Sebastian eased you to the ground, rubbing your back gently; his head rests atop yours as he gave you the first bit of actual comfort you’d had in what felt like a long while. “Shhhh (y/n), what’s wrong? Can you tell me?”
He gave you all the time you could ever need but as you opened your mouth, the only word to come out was “Ruvik…” before you began hyperventilating again as you tried to elaborate. Tears streaming down your face as you ugly cried in the street. Sebastian holding you gently and doing his best to dry your tears. You clambered into his lap, clinging to Sebastian’s shoulders for dear life.
You eventually were able to articulate what had happened, Joseph included. Sebastian’s face was a mix of shock and anger, his hands staining so hard against your skin. Trying his best to not crush you with his hands. Sebastian felt so consumed by anger, how dare Ruvik do such a horrible thing to you. He held you so close to him, rocking you slightly. It felt hard to breathe but it was hard to tell if it was from just Sebastian or from hyperventilating so much, or both.
“I’m so sorry (y/n)… I’m so sorry…” He mumbled into your hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
Honestly, there wouldn’t have been anything Sebastian could have done. Ruvik rules this world and while Sebastian’s words didn’t make you feel better, his concern and worry for you was what helped mend your wounds. To Sebastian you’re a person who he cares for; wants to protect and see grow. He wasn’t like Ruvik, he didn’t want to consume your being and force you into something he wanted.
Sebastian made you feel human again.
Growling came from the distance. Looking back to the alleyway you had come from, only to find the path gone. Sebastian pulled from you, pulling you to your feet but keeping your hand in his; other glued to his pistol. “We need to keep going…” you nodded in response. Eyes still puffy and not really over your tears but your situation didn’t really allow for you to stop for long.
Sebastian led you further down the narrow street. The sparse shoots of weeds biting at your tender flesh; a metal staircase leading into another warehouse-like building was a welcome relief to your ankles. Inside was a room cluttered with mannequins, some whole and others in parts but it was no less unnerving. You separated briefly as Sebastian began to root through the freestanding lockers while you puttered about with the false limbs.
A loud bang resounded through the room as a monster threw themselves at Sebastian from inside a locker. Grabbing onto his neck tightly. Without even thinking, you grabbed a leg and swung it at the beast. The limb exploding into dust and plaster chunks upon contact with your target. Forcing it to release Sebastian and stumble back. Sebastian coughed from the dust exploding in his face, pushing you back behind him. The monster standing upright once more and pulled a stick out of his pocket, lighting it. An explosive no doubt; Sebastian walked the two of you to one of the tables scattered in the room. Doing his best to still his coughing, he drew his gun. Firing right into the beasts head and dropping him to the floor. Coughing loudly, he dumped the table to the ground, its contents shattering on the floor as he pulled you to hide behind it. Finally dispelling the dust from his lungs as the explosive went off; the table bumping back into the two of you from the force.
Your ears were ringing slightly as you sat, catching your breath as the dirt settled in the blood spatter around you. “Thanks.” Sebastian huffed, out of breath from coughing. | 6d55e423f75241fa879af16cf66354ad | ['8d57f684447b41b4a3ce340714424d5f'] | You leaned back to peer in Sebastian’s eyes. “Sebastian, Ruvik… Ruvik loves me…” His face was blank in response, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t been clear on your relationship but you obviously knew him. Your eyes felt sore, agitated as you began to weep your hands coming up to hold onto Sebastian’s vest. “H- He doesn’t care about you… He doesn’t care about Joseph, Leslie or Jimenez… I don’t know what he’s doing but he doesn’t care if he hurts you…” Sebastian was silent, in awe of your omission, sure Ruvik had never shown him anything other than murderous intent but the reality hit him hard. A wave of “this is really happening” ran over him, you perhaps were the only one safe from his wrath, he was almost envious of your blatant heaven while ignorant of the hell Ruvik had given you. “I don’t want you to get hurt Sebastian but I don’t know what to do… Ruvik, he makes me feel so strange; like a warm dream but when he’s gone I just want to run away. I’m scared, Sebastian! I don’t know what to do!” Your eyes shut tight as you sobbed, emotion leaking into your body and forcing shakes out with every sob. The climax of your breaking finally happening; Sebastian pulled you back against him, shushing you quietly while wiping your tears, his free hand rubbing your back gently. It was ugly cry time but you felt better with Sebastian there, his actions telling you he was more than willing to help you. “It’ll be okay (y/n)… we’ll figure this out. We will get out of here.” He lay a kiss to the top of your head and waited for you to calm down and let it all out. Surely you needed it now more than ever.
Time in here didn’t feel like anything, it could feel stagnant or rush by faster than you could register, crying was one of the latter times. In reality, it was only a few minutes in which you spent sobbing but Sebastian sat with you and kept rubbing your back. Wiping your tears again after you finished. “Thank you…” your voice was small and quiet, sore after crying. He patted your head and lifted you up with him, thinking about how light you were. “Let’s keep going… nothing good can come by staying here.” He pulled out a stone slab from only god knows where, as it couldn’t have fit in his pocket but he placed it into another gap on the same stone slab as the previous piece. As if it was the missing key, the slab lifted up once more to reveal the staircase which the large safe monster had disappeared down. Its darkness radiating and ominous.
You gulped as Sebastian took you both into the darkness, though a heavy latched door into a long hallway covered in what looked like mines and spikes on the ceiling. The monster rang out from the other end of the hallway, beating its large hammer against its head; the loud clang reverberating down the hallway. The ceiling began to drop in segments, the spikes dropping to the floor as they quickly came for the two of you but thankfully you hadn’t gone that far down the hallway and Sebastian was able to step you both out of an untimely painful demise. The sound still rang in your ears as the plates lifted and retreated back into the ceiling. With no choice but to move on you were carried down the hall. Getting the chance to notice the Iron Maiden caskets that fit so snugly into small outcroppings in the wall. You could see limbs and decaying flesh peeking through the cracks in the doors. Reaching the middle of the hall sent gears whirring and the door behind you slammed shut, plates once again crushing the floor behind you. Sebastian still held onto you as he began running through the minefield, hoping to escape. The only way out beginning to slide shut slowly, teasingly as if to mock you both.
The last door slamming shut as you barely made it under the door. Sebastian set you down and panted, running while carrying you couldn’t be easy but you hugged him tightly in thanks, letting him catch his breath while watching for anything harmful. There were more safes scattered around the floor but you couldn’t see much as the hall took a sudden left turn and you couldn’t see through walls. Eventually, Sebastian stood upright and took your hand, leading you around the corner.
“Leslie!!” You basically shouted. He was trapped in a cell, bound by chains and a heavy lock. You couldn’t break this one though you smushed your face into the bars in an attempt to phase through and be closer to Leslie. In a calmer voice, you spoke. “Leslie, Leslie sweetie it’s okay I’m back. I’m here Sweetie!” He clung to you through the bars as best he could, sobbing and shaking. “Leslie, you’re safe. Where’s –?” Leslie cut Sebastian off, mumbling the first half of the missing officer’s name. “Is she here? Is she alright?” Again Leslie cut Sebastian off by repeatedly mumbling the last half of his question. Sebastian put his hand on your shoulder to pull you away from the bars. “Stand back, I’ll get it open.” He then proceeded to slam his foot down on the chain, snapping it in two, leaving the doors to swing open and you to rush into Leslie who threw himself on you. |
0a3cbd02abcb4c5ca3da65f742f62d69 | ['8d68703997f447b6a182155abcd3870f'] | ill bring you all the chocolate
'Ugh', Max grunted as the wave of pain made her change her position on the bed yet again. Mother nature was such a piece of shit sometimes.
'Ok', Nathan entered the room with his hands full,'here are your favorite chocolate bars,four of each one,that stupid movie you love and I stole this thing that Victoria uses because warmth helps or some shit.'
Max lifted her head to look at her boyfriend. He wore his infamous scowl but she could see real concern in his eyes as he fidgetted in front of her bed.
'Thanks,Nate', he could be really fudging cute sometimes.
'Whatever. Do you want me to fluff your pillows now or something?', the question sounded less sarcastic than he has meant it to come out as.
Max thought about replying with something considerably lame when the cramps started up again.
'Agh', right now she was considering kicking Nathan out and just laying there to die.
'If it hurts that fucking bad maybe we should go to the hospital', Nathan put a trembling hand on Max's shoulder,looking worried.
'Nah,it's always like that. But if I am to truly vanish,oh,would you grant me one final wish?'
'Why am I even dating you', he took a step back and visibly relaxed at his girlfriend's attics. Nathan himself rarely went to the hospital when feeling sick but he'll be damned if he won't take care of his girlfriend.
'Because you got a thing for hipsters. I think it's weird too.'
'Just tell me what you want,Caufield.'
'Tampons. Now. Go!', Max pointed at the door with a hand,the other dramatically thrown over her face.
'You're lucky I love you', he muttered as he went out the door.
'Love you,honey bee!' Max yelled after her grumpy boyfriend. The first one to say those heavy three words was,surprinsingly,Nathan. It wasn't after he has calmed down from a nightmare,head in her lap and her soothing voice filling the room or during a makeout session,her hands around his neck,holding onto him like he never wanted him to be anywhere else. They were laying on the grass outside their dorms and the words fit perfectly like their intertwined fingers.
'Tampons,fucking tampons', Nathan was walking up and down the aisle,eyeing the bright colored packages. After 5 minutes he came to the conclusion that there can't be a huge difference between them and grabbed a random one. Shit. This store didn't have self checkout,well,just his fucking luck.
Nathan put his game face on and walked up to the cash register. He stared the cashier down,the latter's eyes flickering between his face and the ground. Nathan almost slapped the money in the cashier's hand and left,clutching the pack of tampons and breathing heavily.
'Here are your damn vagina sticks', he thrusted them in Max's arms and plopped down beside her om the bed. After she stopped giggling,'vagina sticks,oh my god,what',she moved so she had her head in his lap,her arms wrapping around his waist.
'Thank you,Nathan.'
Nathan didn't answer,he just bent down to press a kiss on his girlfriend's head and then leaned against the wall.
They ended up staying inside the entire weekend to cuddle the pain away,watching movies and playing board games,Nathan going out only to buy what Max craved.
**Author's Note:**
> i am feeling shitty and this is what i write to feel less shitty lmao it didnt work oh well hope you enjoy it | 0bd27468b6ae4f9ca6e52b2ab5e2855c | ['8d68703997f447b6a182155abcd3870f'] | When she came back he was standing up and glaring at the piece of furniture that looked nothing like a desk.
'...shit.'
'Did you build it backwards?', Max bit back her smile.
'No,of course not! I don't know what happened!', he sat down again and began to take it apart.
Max took the manual and alternated between looking at it and looking at the wanna-be-desk on the floor.
'You are right,you didn't build it backwards.'
'I told you so!', Nathan looked at her with a proud look on his face.
'You managed to build it sideways though', Max started laughing at the dissapointed puppy look on Nathan's face. She sat down and started helping him,feeling at peace.
That evening they had dinner with their friends. Victoria and Chloe talked about the places they have visited that year,apparently Chloe's band having performed on the other side of the city where Victoria had an art exhibition.
Kate and Max mainly talked about the kids from the school Kate was teaching at and the rabbit Max has adopted two years ago while Warren tried to help Nathan build that desk. In the end, Victoria and Kate built it in under 10 minutes. |
cd0efee5ed46465fa5172f0f65228292 | ['8d73007b6bc146ac95b17aeaea212a7e'] |
One Night Lay
**Author's Note:**
> Just a classic one-night-stand style fic (though personally I think it wouldn't just end there). Don't judge the crappy title; it's 2.30am and I can't think of anything better. Please feel free to leave kudos/comments/concrit. Enjoy x
Emma licks into a stranger’s mouth, the elusive taste of something sweet drawing her tongue deeper into his mouth as she tries to put a name to it.
The hand that winds into her hair is gentle, combing through the wavy golden strands before tugging softly, the sharp pull just enough to ease a moan from between her lips and urge her to press their bodies more tightly together. She can feel the solid warmth of him in a line against her side, the rough scrape of his stubble over her skin as he kisses his way along her jaw and then sucks a mark at the junction of her throat.
“We should-” Emma begins, her attention hastily dispersed as he eases his tongue soothingly over the reddening mark on her neck, the sensation making her stomach swoop and her eyelids flutter. She tries again, swallowing, “We should probably go somewhere more private.”
“Yours or mine?” he asks, voice lower than she remembers it being, and just the sound of it sends a little shiver down her spine.
Her first impulse is to retreat to her own home, but she doesn’t really know this guy and she’s not sure she wants him to know about Henry. It’s not that she’s ashamed to be a single mom and god knows Henry’s the best part of her life, but she doesn’t want some stranger who’s in all likelihood not going to be around after the night to know that much about her personal life. “Yours,” she tells him after a moment and sees him nod, shiny lips tugging into a small lascivious smile.
“As you wish,” he quips with a little arch of one brow and she tugs him out of the booth with rolled eyes, keeping her hand in his as they slip out of the bar and to the edge of the curb to try and flag down a cab.
They’re not kept waiting long, bodies pressed close together (for warmth, she tells herself needlessly), until they can slide into the back of a taxi. The guy – Killian, she’s pretty sure his name is – rattles off his address, and they lapse into silence for the duration of the fortunately short drive. Emma gets out and leaves Killian to handle the payment, too distracted to care about splitting the bill, and then lets him lead her into the apartment building.
He only lives on the third floor but they get into the elevator anyway, and she realises why as he crowds her against the wall, head dipping so he can suck lightly at her lower lip before sinking back into another deep kiss. They almost forget to get out, having to hastily crush the _doors open_ button with a breathless chuckle before he leads her down the hallway and fumbles with his keys at the door – she’s pretty sure the fumbling has something to do with the way she’s eased her hands under the hem of his shirt and jacket, fingers exploring the broad expanse of his back and sides with light sweeps.
Once they’re inside he tosses his keys onto the nearest counter and presses her back into the door, shrugging out of his leather jacket even as he presses kisses down the column of her throat. Emma pushes him away just far enough to kick off her heels and remove her own coat, tossing it over the back of the nearest chair before stepping back to him and winding her arms around his neck.
“Bedroom?” he murmurs into her hair, she’s already loosened the top three buttons of his shirt and her lips are occupied trailing the line of his collarbone while his hands wander up and down her sides.
“Can’t wait,” she mutters and hears his low chuckle in response. She pulls away long enough to glance around and then walks him back to the sofa, pushing him down firmly and then dropping forward to straddle his thighs, dress bunching up around her waist and a low groan falling from his open mouth. “This good enough?” she asks quickly, hands burying themselves in the short soft strands of his dark hair, tilting his head back until she can lean in and kiss him, manoeuvring him until the angle’s just right.
“Perfect,” he breathes, the exhalation hot against her lips, making her shift closer to him, legs spreading a little wide to settle her more comfortably atop of him, which in turn makes his hands grip more tightly at her hips and his lips to press more insistently against her own.
She reaches impatiently for the bottom of her dress, his hands helping to ease it up and over her head and then quickly grabbing for the newly bared skin, alternating between deep possessive grips and teasing feather-light brushes up her ribs and spine. Meanwhile, Emma’s hands hurry to undo the rest of the buttons, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and huffing peevishly when he has to take his hands off her to slip his arms out the sleeves. His smiling lips part as if he’s going to pass a comment on her haste, but she leans in and occupies them before he can, swallowing his ensuing groan and reaching back to unclasp her bra, suddenly needing to press herself against his bare chest. | d97825fca99e4af6ab86284c12dd0a39 | ['8d73007b6bc146ac95b17aeaea212a7e'] | "Hey, I've don't think I've seen you around here before," Dean said in greeting. And, sure, it wasn't original, but he was nervous - faced with a stunning guy who may or may not be in a relationship wouldn't usually throw him off his game, but this particularly guy had a piercing gaze and cocked his head to the side a little as Dean spoke.
"No, I rarely visit...places like this," the man said, edges of his mouth twitching up into the hint of a smile while his eyes remained somewhat bewildered.
"I'm Dean."
"Castiel."
And it said something that Dean didn't even bother mocking the guy's weird-ass name.
"You here with your...boyfriend?" Dean said, hesitant, and the man made a sound that was half between laughing and choking.
"No!" Castiel said after a moment, "No, he's my brother."
An odd place for brotherly bonding in Dean's opinion, he'd never go to a strip club with Sam (not after what happened the last time he did), but, hell, at least Castiel was single.
Dean tried not to smile too broadly, but he couldn't help it, "Single then?" he suggested.
Castiel flushed a little, eyes flitting about nervously, like he didn't know where to look, but he nodded, looking up at Dean from beneath his dark lashes, and suddenly Dean was really very much in the mood for something more than flirting. "I, uh, did enjoy your performance," Castiel said, his low voice going straight to Dean's cock, and Dean couldn't help but wonder what that voice sounded like during sex, if it ever got rough and wrecked and pleading-
"Thanks, I guess," Dean said, his own face heating slightly as he felt himself hardening in his jeans.
There was definite tension between them, and Dean caught the man darting a glance at his mouth in the pause that followed, before returning his heated gaze to Dean's, and like a dam breaking he stepped forward, bending his head minutely to line up their mouths, kissing hard and infinitely glad to feel the pressure quickly returned.
Castiel reached up, one hand skimming up Dean's side to grip his shoulder, the other stroking higher to curve around the back of his neck and press them closer together. Dean's hand gripped around the tie, using it like a leash to pull Castiel with him as he backed towards the door, pulling them both against it and fumbling quickly to twist the lock before returning his attention to the kiss.
His mouth tasted like beer, with the faintest remains of mint, and Dean couldn't resist teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of his lips. He was rewarded with a hushed sigh and Castiel's mouth opening beneath his, their tongues sliding together and lips pressing almost painfully hard. He felt Castiel suck on his tongue for a second and he couldn't repress the groan as his dick hardened further.
And then Castiel's mouth was gone and Dean took the opportunity to pull in a quick breath, before expelling it sharply as Castiel's hands dropped from his shoulders to his belt.
He dropped to his knees before Dean, pulling the leather belt through the loops, unbuttoning the jeans and pulling the fly down quickly, before pushing up Dean's shirt to mouth at his taut stomach. Dean braced back against the door, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut as Castiel's hand cupped him through his jeans, the teasing squeeze making him gasp a little, before that same hand reached boldly into his pants to grip his dick more firmly.
"I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you out on stage," Castiel rumbled, pulling Dean's cock free from his jeans and immediately sucking a bead of precum from the tip.
Dean clenched his jaw hard, hands fisting before he reached out blindly for something to ground him and finding themselves tangled in Castiel's dark hair. He forced his eyes to open and his head to bow forward, looking down as Castiel parted his lips and went down on his flushed dick, shallowly again, before pulling off with a lewd pop and swirling his tongue around the head.
"You're killing me, Cas," Dean groaned, and finally Castiel gave in with a wry smirk, eyes flicking up to meet Dean's as he lowered his mouth down onto him. He bobbed his head up and down, overwhelmingly blue eyes staring up at him, and the visual, auditory, and physical stimulus was almost too much. His head fell back against the door and he breathed out a breathy sigh as Castiel took more of him into his mouth, warm hands wrapping around where his mouth couldn't reach and pumping him firmly.
"God, Cas," Dean groaned, and Castiel hummed, pleased, around his dick, the sensation drawing another lewd gasp from Dean.
He was moving faster, urging Dean on as his panting breaths came quicker, hands tightening in Cas' hair in a way that the man clearly liked.
Castiel pulled off for a moment, licking his lips as though savouring the taste, he leaned down, licking a stripe up the bottom of Dean's cock, leaning down to tease at his balls for a moment before abruptly taking Dean back in his mouth, managing to take him from root to tip where he pressed uncomfortably against the back of Cas' throat, and as Castiel lifted off a little bit Dean came in hot spurts in his mouth, head tipped back and swallowing moan after moan, and Cas continued to swallow around his dick until he was finished. Finally pulling his mouth away and getting to his feet.
He tucked Dean carefully into his pants as he leaned helplessly against the door, and then leaned in to press a light kiss to the edge of Dean's mouth.
"That was..." Dean groaned, eyes blinking open and his vision quickly swallowed up by blue, he pressed forward, kissing Cas soundly, very aware of the hard erection pressing into his hip. "Did you want to go back to my place?" Dean suggested quickly, "My brother's over at his girlfriend's this weekend and-"
"Yes," Castiel agreed, eyes twinkling, and Dean noticed his totally dishevelled sex hair, sticking up all over the place, as well as his reddened, spit-slicked lips. He could think of nothing better than taking this man back to his bed and spending the rest of the night (and more nights to come, hopefully) finding every possible way to reciprocate.
They unlocked the bathroom and left, feeling very conspicuous as they hurried toward the exit. They glanced over to see Cas' brother with his lap full of sexy leggy blonde and Cas mumbled something about texting him later.
Out in the parking lot, seated in his car, Dean couldn't help but grin when his gaze met with Castiel's deep blue one. He was very much looking forward to the rest of the night - and everything else that might come after. |
cbfd0cefd9064f9eb7e70b41955917ec | ['8d85e3770ce44d6c9c23587334f6cdd9'] | “Come on, take a chance.” The Doctor looked right into Yaz’s eyes, making her lips curl upward.
“Okay, if you think it’s safe.” Yaz said bashfully, letting herself be pulled along by the doctor.
The Doctor immediately began shivering as soon as she closed the door. There was snow everywhere. The room was dim, and it seemed to mimic a small pine forest. She hopped towards a small pool in the center of the room, trying her best to get away from the cold.
“I thought you said this was for humans!” Yaz yelped.
“Well you’re not dead!” The Doctor yelled back through chattering teeth. She had made it to the pool, watching steam rise up and out into the frigid air. She dipped a foot in, pleased at the slight burn it gave, restoring feeling to her toes. Yaz joined her quickly, letting herself sink into the pool up to her shoulders. She settled on the side of the pond and sighed.
“I told you it would be nice.” The Doctor said. She would have sounded smug had she not been so relaxed.
Yaz laughed, a light, airy, slightly breathless sound that the Doctor immediately committed to memory.
“You said it would be fun, but I think this’ll suffice.”
The Doctor smiled lazily. “I’m glad you think so.” She said to the empty space where Yaz’s head used to be. Before she could panic, Yaz popped right out of the water, grinning from ear to ear.
“Sorry, were you saying something?” Yaz teased. The Doctor pouted, before dunking her head under water as well. Two could play this game. She slunk under the water, keeping her body low to the ground. Just as she reached Yaz, she jumped out of the water, splashing her.
Yaz gasped before a grin stretched across her face that the Doctor only got a slight glimpse of before her face was covered in a splash. Soon it was war, the two women reduced to the likes of seven year olds at a water park.
The Doctor ducked, holding herself low to the water again. She let her repertory bypass kick in as she waited. A minute passed before Yaz’s face appeared before her, air bubbles escaping her mouth and nose as she smiled. The Doctor smiled back, and they both came up for air together.
“Nice party trick.” Yaz chuckled breathlessly.
“It is not a party trick, its evolved Time Lord biology. It comes in very useful sometimes.” The Doctor said slyly. Yaz blushed.
For a moment, the Doctor just looked at Yaz. She couldn’t believe how angelic she looked. Her hair fell in dark wet ringlets around her face. Her chest was heaving from the lack of air and her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. If she looked close, she could see little crystals of ice forming on her eye lashes.
She was so caught up in looking at Yaz, noticing all of the things that made her so perfect, that she didn’t notice Yaz doing the same thing.
_She wanted to kiss her. Right there. She wanted to hold her arms against the wall of the pond and kiss her from head to toe. She wanted to show her just how useful her biology could be._
She jumped backwards, scurrying out of the pool as fast as she could. She couldn’t do this. She could _not_ do this.
“Doctor, are you okay?”
No. The Doctor was not okay.
“Yeah I’m alright, I’m just...” The Doctor trailed off, racking her brain for an excuse. “Let’s see what else they have around here.”
They passed room after room. After the first experience, Yaz was willing to try them all. A sunny room covered in apple grass (the Doctor loved the way Yaz looked in the sun). A room with low gravity, covered in box spring mattresses for jumping (the Doctor couldn’t help but notice how Yaz’s hair bounced and floated with ease). Even a room made for dipping yourself in luke warm wax (the Doctor had to help Yaz get some of her wax off and she relished every moment).
The Doctor couldn’t shake her feelings. Every thought that had made its way into the Doctors stomach was greeting her again all at once.
Yaz pulled her out of a momentary reverie.
“Doctor, what’s this?”
The Doctor walked over to the sign. Her face lit up despite her anxiety.
“Oh I haven’t done this in ages!” Yaz looked excited, before the Doctor added smugly, “Telepaths only, sorry.”
She tapped Yaz on the head.
“You can watch though.”
“What is it?” Yaz inquired again.
“It’s like Tetris.”
Now Yaz looked properly curious.
The Doctor elaborated. “It’s really simple. Sort of like virtual reality, the machine does all the work. Imagine a house, and that house is someone’s mind. You’re trying to get into the house. It’s quite calming actually, and it’s fun!”
“That’s nothing like Tetris.” Yaz deadpanned.
“Come on.”
The room was awash in a dim purple light. A circle of cushions surrounded a tree like object. The Doctor settled down on the nearest pillow, gesturing for Yaz to do the same. Yaz cautiously sat down, as the Doctor closed her eyes and began to breathe.
She sized up her opponent. It was an earth house, not very big. It was as normal and plain as the Doctor had ever seen.
_Well, this would be easy_.
“Are you watching Yaz?” The Doctor quipped, feeling cocky.
To her immense surprise, the door to the house swung open, revealing tired looking Yaz in pajamas.
“Wh’ts goin’ on?” She said, rubbing at her eyes.
Oh. She was a mess. She looked absolutely ravishing.
The Doctor walked up the path to the house, meeting Yaz at the door.
_How are you doing this?_ The Doctor projected as strong as she could.
Yaz looked annoyed. “You don’t need to shout.” She grumbled.
_Sorry._ The Doctor projected this softly. | 698755784e9e49c1b8e3e0b8381c97f8 | ['8d85e3770ce44d6c9c23587334f6cdd9'] | “Yep! Good, fantastic, you humans need rest! You too Yaz.” The Doctor couldn’t bring herself to look Yaz in the eyes, so she opted to look just to the right of her.
“Good idea, I’ll just…” Yaz trailed off, shuffling away with Ryan and Graham in tow.
_The Tardis had jolted to one side, and suddenly…_
_Yaz pressed up against her. All of her curves imprinting themselves on the Doctor’s body. The smell of the sea, Yaz’s body wash, and something indescribable, something impossibly_ human _filled her nose. It was all the Doctor could do to not wrap her arms around Yaz and bury her face into her neck._
_She wondered what would have happened if she did. What would have happened if she had trailed kisses down Yaz’s neck right there? Wondered what she would have tasted like, skin mixed with sea salt. What kind of noises she would have made. What-_
The Doctor groaned, slapping her head against the console from where she was trying to do repairs. She was still in her swim suit, not bothering to change. She couldn’t pull herself away. It had been like this with River, but River had been _working_ to make her feel like this. It was like Yaz didn’t even have to _try._
_Dirty old woman_. The Doctor thought to herself, blushing with shame. She couldn’t do this. Yaz was only nineteen for the universes sake! If Yaz had any romantic prospects on the Tardis it would be with Ryan, not with a damaged old Time Lord.
The Doctor tried to keep this at the fore front of her mind, returning to her work.
_The feel of Yaz’s skin on her lips, the smell of the sea in her hair-_
This wasn’t working. The Doctor felt too warm. She jumped up off the seat she was sitting in, making her way to the Tardis baths with a _long_ shower in mind.
What she didn’t expect when she arrived was for Yaz to be there.
Showering. Naked. How else? She would have asked herself, if her brain had been working correctly.
The Doctor froze in place. Her mouth dropped open. Yaz wasn’t facing her, she hadn’t noticed yet. She stood for a moment, unable to do anything but stare, trapped. She was forced (well maybe not _forced_ , at least not in a _bad_ way, she conceded for a moment before shaking that thought off) to take in all of Yaz’s body. Suddenly, Yaz began to turn around. Just as she was about to meet the Doctor’s eyes, the Doctor slammed the door behind her.
The Doctor walked comically fast down the hall, ducking into the first free bathroom she found. That was supposed to be _her_ bathroom! How did Yaz even there in the first place? She mentally cursed at the Tardis, who gave her the equivalent of sticking her tongue out in response.
Her heart pounding in her chest, the Doctor prayed to any god that would listen that Yaz hadn’t seen her, knowing that she probably had. The Doctor stripped out of her bathing suit with shaking hands, turning on the shower to the hottest setting she could handle and stepping inside.
_Flashes of her and Yaz in the shower appeared before her eyes. Her fingers pressed into Yaz’s stomach had enough to make bruises, her teeth nipping at Yaz’s neck-_
“Agh!” The Doctor pressed her body against the cold tile, desperately trying to get her mind off the other girl. The Doctor slid down the wall, sitting against it on the shower floor, head in her hands. She raised her head slightly, putting it directly under the spray.
Well, maybe it couldn’t hurt to _take care_ of it.
The Doctor pondered this for a moment. Where would she start? _How_ would she start? She had been with women before but she had never _been_ a woman before. Would it even be the same?
The Doctor’s breath came out in staccato puffs as her shaking hand slowly drifted downward. She briefly indulged in the fantasy that it was Yaz’s hand. That she was whispering into her ear.
_“Just relax Doctor." The Yaz in her head sighed._
She bit her lip to keep herself from making any unseemly noises, her hand shaking worse and worse as she got closer to her-
“No!” The Doctor yelped to herself, yanking her hand away.
She tried to push all of her thoughts away. She imagined Yaz’s face warping into one of disgust. She imagined Yaz pushing her away with all her might, tearing into her, screaming that she was a horrible, dirty, old creature.
She blushed, hanging her head. Yaz had seen her staring in the bathroom. What could she possibly be thinking? What if she was angry? What if-
The Doctor thought about Yaz leaving her.
It took all of the Doctors strength not to cry. She ended up sobbing quietly anyway.
2. Demons
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> The Doctor reflects on her demons and the events of Demons of the Punjab, and has a chat with Yaz.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> The Doctor a freak ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
_“Please.”_
_“I can’t believe how disgusting you are. Do you have any shame at all?”_
_“Yaz, I-”_
SMACK!
_The Doctor’s cheek burned with pain as she tried to hold on to the feeling of Yaz’s hand on her face._
_“I’m only nineteen! I’ll die in a few years, and I’ll leave you all alone. You’re so stupid!”_
SMACK!
_The Doctor bit back a whimper and tried to keep tears from falling out of her eyes._
_“Again, please.” She found herself saying._
_Yaz looked taken aback for a moment, before a sinister grin stretched across her face._
_“You’re getting off on this aren’t you?”_
_The Doctor cast her eyes downward._
_“You really are an alien.”_
SMACK! |
ee840b83449548fe9dc469eeabc986c9 | ['8d90ffbd24d142159ef5e3b230c2477c'] |
1. "I know somebody who is just perfect for you!"
The first one is Janet. She is one of Rachel’s co-stars in Funny Girl and "she is absolutely perfect for you, Sam, I swear!", so Sam accepts to meet her. His love life has been quite sad recently, and maybe a blind date can be the right solution. He’s actually pretty excited about the date and spends one hour and a half deciding what to wear.
It takes all about ten minutes for Sam to see that Janet is not perfect for him. It’s not like she isn’t nice, or cute, or even funny in her own way: it’s just that Janet is exactly like Rachel, only taller.
Sam tries really hard not to groan when she says for the fourth time how talented she is and how Broadway is obviously her destiny, and he swears he would never listen to Rachel again.
The first one is Eli. He studies law at Columbia with Sebastian. As Blaine’s best friend, he’s maybe the one who knows him the best, so Blaine feels safe and ready to give Eli a chance. Chestnut hair, blue sparkling eyes and broad shoulders, Eli looks just like a model and Blaine has to admit Sebastian was right.
Except Eli is maybe the most boring person Blaine has ever met, including Mr Thompson, his Chemistry teacher (and if you studied at Dalton you can understand that means a lot). He talks and talks and talks even more, and he laugh at his own lame jokes. Blaine tries to drown himself in his mojito, hoping that rhum can help him.
After his third drink Blaine realises that he can put Eli’s mouth to a better use, making him finally shut up. He kisses him and his ears exult.
Eli kisses damn well, and it’s been so long since the last time that Blaine let him drag him to his house.
Everything becomes hot and sexy, and Blaine even thinks he can put up with Eli’s boringness just for this, when Eli asks him to call him “daddy”.
He doesn’t speak to Sebastian for two weeks.
The second one is Mercedes. That may sound strange, because they already know each other, but after her senior year they didn’t keep in touch, so.
They go on a double date with Kurt and Adam and they have a lot of fun. After two months of dating, Sam is convinced they are going to be together for quite a while: they have fun together and they get along really well; Mercedes doesn’t mind his dorkiness - for most of the time anyway. The months she spend in New York for recording her new album could very easily become the best of Sam’s life: he’s got a job he likes, an awesome girlfriend and some crazy friends. He feels content and satisfied.
He really should know better. After two months of dating, during a quiet evening at home, Mercedes breaks up with him: apparently he’s too “white”.
Sam doesn’t even want to think about that.
The second one is Jeremiah. This time Thad is handling the situation and after the double date he and Sebastian spend with Blaine and Jeremiah, Blaine almost kisses Thad in gratitude. Jeremiah works in the same store as Thad and he is great: he’s mature and sophisticated, with blonde curls that scream to be touched.
Blaine floats on a cloud for more than a month. His love life is next to perfect: his boyfriend is sweet, caring and smart; he laughs at his jokes and has a pure look of adoration in his eyes when they kiss. They spend most of the time in Jeremiah’s loft, watching movies and cuddling on the couch, and Blaine feels so safe and wanted that he doesn’t really realise something is wrong.
But something is definitely wrong. Everything crushes on Blaine when on San Valentine he surprises Jeremiah at the store with a red rose and his boyfriend’s face turns pale.
Turns out Jeremiah hasn’t come out yet. He said his secret only to Thad (without telling him he was a secret, Thad assures near to tears) after Sebastian came to the store once, but nobody else does. Not his colleagues, or his friends or even his parents.
Blaine consider himself patient and supportive, but he can return in the closet: he came out of it when he was fourteen and he has always been so proud of his achievements. He can’t go back.
The third one is Larry. He plays the bass in Dani’s band so if everything turns awkward they could always talk about music - that’s what Sam keeps repeating himself on the way to the date.
The lack of topics is not the problem, though. Larry turns out to be the most awful personification of all the terrible stereotypes about rockers.
Sam is not high maintenance by all means, but if something is important in his significant one is that he must shower. This is not negotiable.
The third one is Josh. Blaine doesn’t want to talk about it.
He doesn’t speak to Jeff for four months.
The fourth one is Mercedes, again. No questions, please.
The fourth one is Louis. He works at Vogue with his new friend Kurt, from NYADA. Kurt assures him that they could get along well and Blaine trusts him enough to go on a date with him.
Blaine’s best friend is Sebastian, the most demanding, snob and snooty person to ever exist. At least that’s what he thought before meeting Louis.
The fifth one is Glenn. He works at the Spotlight diner. Rachel said he has been really impressed by Sam when he came to bring Santana the keys she forgot at home. Sam has to admit he feels flattered by the situation and agrees to have dinner with him. | b3fb83c96b9942609b4d6dcbf1b36eda | ['8d90ffbd24d142159ef5e3b230c2477c'] | Sam smiled too. Blaine’s laughter always made him cheerful. Actually when Blaine was really happy he felt like he was high from happiness too.
\- Actually I did. - he teased. He had just finished his sentence when an handful of sugar hitted him right on the face.
Next thing he knew they were both covered in sugar, flour and chocolate. They were laughing like they had gone crazy, and soon they became breathless.
\- What the fuck are you two doing?! - Kitty screamed furious. - Go to the bathroom and clean yourself!
\- Kitty was mad. - maybe Sam shouldn’t have sounded so amused, but he was still high in adrenaline for their food-fight and didn’t care at the moment.
\- I wonder why. - Blaine sounded amused too.
They were at the sink in Kitty’s bathroom, trying to clean at least their faces.
After some minutes, Sam was pretty proud for his work: his face was totally clean,
even if it was rather pink for all the rubbing.
When he looked at Blaine, he saw that he was clean too, apart for a little smudge of flour on his neck, right under his ear.
He didn’t even think about it when he reached out to clean it. However when his hand reached Blaine’s neck, he couldn’t brig himself to took it away. When Blaine looked at him, somehow surprised, he felt frozen. He forgot how to breath. All he could think about was Blaine’s mouth: his lips would taste like the chocolate cookies they stole before, while Kitty wasn’t looking? Or maybe they would taste just of Blaine?
The thought made him shiver.
And suddenly Blaine’s lips were closer. Closer and closer to his.
They were almost touching, and Sam was pretty sure the loud beat of his heart could make him deaf.
And then Blaine was suddenly far, far away.
\- What… Oh God, Sam, I’m so sorry, I don’t… You were looking like you might… Oh God - he rambled. Blaine was starting to panic.
\- I wasn’t complaining. - Sam just said, trying to hide his huge disappointment.
\- You are straight! - Blaine didn’t even let him answer ( something like “I may be straight but you’re cute and hot, and maybe I’m not so straight”) but started to pacing in the small bathroom, almost screaming. - And I’ve just broke up with Kurt, what kind of person I am? Just because I’m happy with you and I feel loved and your stupid lips, I shouldn’t…-
Sam was almost sure Blaine was talking to himself at that point, but he thought he had the right of saying something about their Never-Happened-Kiss.
\- Blaine, calm the fuck down! - when Blaine stopped, he went on. - What’s the first thing that’s bothering you?-
\- You’re straight and I just acted like some predatory gay, and I’m so sorry…- Blaine whispered almost to tears once again.
Sam smiled. - That’s not a problem. I would totally kiss you. And date you. - he was so sure about that he didn’t have to make it sounded convincing.
Blaine blushed. - Really? I thought you…-
Sam shrugged. - I don’t like labels, but I like you. -
Finally Blaine smiled. Then he seemed down again. - I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship right now.
Well, it couldn’t have been easier. Sam’s smile grew. - I’ll wait.
That was it. When on Christmas they both added to their present a little bag of handmade cookies they laughed.
Kitty was right. Handmade cookies were really romantic. And if you add a first kiss under the mistletoe you’ll the perfect Christmas ever.
Please tell me what you think about it :) |
0da8725492e94d4aa7e9f95c941f89df | ['8d910891896049da9f21b617f6f45c91'] | Secret Service
A small clatter was heard in the mess room and Mikasa perked at the sound. She could have sworn she found everyone up after curfew. The Asian woman leisurely made her way down to the room and opened the door. Sasha sat at one of the tables eating a sausage link. The brunette sat and ate, not noticing her one person audience.
"Sasha."
The girl jumped a few feet in her seat and turned wide brown eyes on her. She gulped slowly and smiled sheepishly.
"Ah, Mikasa… " Sasha looked down into her hands and quickly scrambled to hide the food, "it's not what it looks like!"
Mikasa merely grunted and motioned for her to follow. Sasha got up immediately and fell into step beside the blue-eyed girl. The walk was quiet and Sasha squirmed until they reached her room.
"Don't come out anymore." Mikasa reprimanded softly.
Sasha nodded in understanding and gently closed the door, cutting off her view of the pretty raven-haired soldier.
* * *
Mikasa was just on her way to her own room after making another round when she spied Levi's office door open slightly and a splash of light fell onto the ground and climbed up the wall. She frowned and made to close the door, but a muffled groan stopped her in her tracks and she froze.
"Hah, Eren… "
Mikasa stood straight and tried to walk away, but her body wasn't obeying her commands. Instead, she moved to see Eren's bare legs hanging over Levi's shoulders. The green-eyed teen was lying flat on top of the wooden desk as the captain stood between his legs. Levi bent forward and slipped a hard nipple into his mouth and rolled the peak between his teeth and tongue. He suckled it until he could feel Eren's nails dig into his back and the throb of his cock against his stomach. He released it with a pop and slid the length of his shaft against Eren while he massaged the tip of his lover's cock.
"Nngh, Levi please… " It was barely a whisper but their closeness allowed the older man to hear and without further demand he slid into Eren and they moaned in unison. Eren moved his hands up and cupped Levi's face. They stared into each other's eyes until Eren pulled Levi's face to his and their lips met in heated passion. Their tongues battled for dominance and in a bold move Eren pulled the captain's bottom lip with his teeth and nipped. With a jolt that sent waves of pleasure into Eren, Levi broke the kiss and scattered open-mouthed kisses across the tanned expanse of his chest. With a desperate whine, Eren shifted and bucked against Levi. Levi didn't need another prompt and started a steady rhythm.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed quietly and built a pleasant static in the background of their labored breaths. Levi gripped Eren's thighs and pistoned into him with unhindered force, making him shout in ecstasy as he gripped the wrists to the man fucking him. Well muscled arms supported Levi as he leaned over Eren and started to thrust out of sync. He was so close, his hands fisted beside Eren's head and he grunted when the brunet-haired male tightened himself around him and rolled his hips.
"Eren!" It was a guttural and passionate utterance. Stars burst behind Levi's eyes at the unexpected sensation and he came inside the younger man. As he was coming down from his high he flipped Eren into his front without pulling out.
"That was naughty cadet, I think you should be punished." The husky sound of Levi's voice only made him shudder in anticipation.
Before he could get a word in, Levi was pounding into him with a force that rattled his bones and made him see lights. Eren clutched the edge of the desk and cried out. It felt so fucking good!
"L-Levi!" The older man reached forward and tugged on his dick and Eren's eyes rolled back. The feeling of Levi's balls slapping against his and the way their bodies were slick with sweat, pressing and sliding together undid him.
"Levi! A-ahh, I'm coming!" His body tensed and he felt his own sperm coat the front of his body and the desk. He felt Levi' come a second time and he moaned as it filled him up.
The shadows danced across their prone figures and after moments of lying there together, Levi finally pulled himself out and stood by as Eren slowly stood erect beside him, both of their bodily fluids ran down his legs and the sight made him want the boy all over again.
* * *
Mikasa jerked back away from the door and shook her head. What was she doing? What kind of pervert was she? This was the second time she caught those two at it, but it wasn't any of her business what they did in their spare time. Eren was his own person and as much as she wanted to be near him, this was obviously not a time to be, nor did she want to be when he was otherwise preoccupied. She would have to ask him just what their relationship was though. She just couldn't have Eren moping around for days if the captain wasn't committing in the end.
**Author's Note:**
> I also wanted to make this a little softer than the other fic, because the other one was you know, out in the hall where anyone and everyone would be able to witness their sinful acts so... tell me how I did.
> P.S. I fixed it so it's not one giant paragraph anymore. Gosh, I didn't even realize until today when I checked. How embarrassing. | db86b81b52f14ba1996f532c01427ea2 | ['8d910891896049da9f21b617f6f45c91'] | S.W.A.G.
**Author's Note:**
> DISCLAIMER: First off, I in no way, own SnK or AoT. Thank you.
>
> A/N: This is gonna be amateurish because I've never really written anything M rated before, but the challenge needed to be completed.
>
> This story is PWP, so read at your own discretion.
A pair of slate grey eyes followed two male figures as they exited the mess hall. Mikasa sighed silently to herself and wondered when he would actually come out and tell her. She'd been at his side for as long as she could remember. There was nothing to worry about, she already knew anyways. She'd figured it out weeks ago.
FLASHBACK
_Mikasa rounded the corner looking for her troublesome, self-proclaimed brother. She stopped in her tracks as she saw him trapped by Captain Levi._
_"C-c-captain..." Eren stuttered, as the dark haired male placed open-mouthed kisses onto his neck, his back against the cold stone wall._
_"Pipe down cadet. Talk any louder and the whole fucking castle'll hear you." He murmured, placing more love bites onto the wide expanse of Eren's chest._
_He unbuttoned Eren's shirt the rest of the way and guided a hardened nipple into his mouth. He suckled it and rolled it around in his mouth before releasing it with a pop._
_Raven hair swayed as he paused in his ministrations and pulled away to admire his handiwork. The brunette was flushed and his breaths came out in pants. His short locks were mussed and his green eyes were hazy with lust and desire. He looked good enough to eat._
_"Captain?"_
_"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" His breath ghosted over Eren's ear and he groaned._
_"What's my name? Say it." He commanded._
_"L-Levi..."_
_"What was that cadet? I didn't fucking hear you."_
_"Levi!" He shouted._
_A smug smirk flitted across his face. "Remember, lower your voice." Levi whispered. He muffled his reply with a scorching kiss. He ran his tongue along the seam of Eren's lips and he opened them willingly. His tongue darted in to taste and he relished the sweetness of him. Their tongues battled for dominance but in the end, Eren quickly surrendered. Blue eyes opened and Levi watched as he devoured him._
_He expertly used one hand to undo both his and Eren's trousers. He pulled away and allowed them both to take in some much needed air._
_"Get ready Eren."_
_Without hesitation, he slid inside and they both froze at the amazing feeling. Matching moans left their lips and Levi began a steady rhythm._
_"Ah! Levi..." Eren's eyes were closed and he buried his face in the crook of Levi's neck as his nails dug into the muscle of his back. He gripped the hair at the back of his head._
_"Gah, faster." He murmured._
_Levi changed pace, and soon the sound of flesh slapping against flesh could be heard. He drove into him, grinding their hips together as the echo of Eren hitting the wall behind them became static in the background._
_Levi's own nails dug into the soft flesh of Eren's ass. "So fucking tight. I'm gonna come." He released one side and reached between them to grab Eren's cock. Their movements became erratic and Levi tugged harshly on his dick._
_"Mm, gah! I'm coming!"_
_His seed spurted onto Levi's face and his ass clenched around his throbbing cock. Levi drove one last time into him and coated Eren's hungry hole with his semen._
_He pulled out and they both were left panting. Come dribbled out of Eren and down his leg._
_"Come on, let's clean up."_
_Mikasa stood silently with an unreadable expression. Eren and Captain Levi, were fucking._
END FLASHBACK
A tray clattered down next to her and she jumped.
"You alright, Mikasa?"
"I'm fine, Armin." |
49ec2addd4dc4dd893ccec93ae6d95a3 | ['8d99a373dd514f2aa06a113bc4179bbc'] | Your laugh
_He laughed._
As soon as Taichi saw and heard the young man laugh, he felt his limbs lose all strength and tension. He breathed in sharply and afterwards couldn't tell whether he was still breathing normally or if he was holding his breath. His mind was completely blank for a moment until it was drowned in a sea of thoughts and feelings, all of them focused on one thing:
**_His laugh._**
_He laughed. He laughed._
The words looped in his mind several times more.
_I want to see him laugh more._
_Please laugh again._
Lost in thought, Taichi gripped whatever was underneath his hands. He didn't care what it was, he felt like he needed to hold on to something to not lose himself completely.
His mind was reeling, everything revolved around the young man's natural reaction to his joke.
Taichi's heart was racing and his cheeks had taken on a slight red the instant he'd fallen into this state. He knew this state of awe all too well. It had happened so many times over the course of the past two years. He wasn't even sure when it first began to be that way. He had been charmed by his laugh and smile very early on, wanting his friend to smile more. Wanting to see him cheer up, let loose and enjoy himself. But over time, slowly, his feelings changed and Taichi wasn't sure when he first felt so much when he perceived it. There were no words he could utter that would ever truly describe how he felt. Or at least he wasn't aware if they existed. Though even if they did, he doubted it could really convey the complex storm of feelings that raged inside him.
It wasn't so much that he even thought these things, he mostly _felt_ them. And had no way to truly express them, too lost on what could even come close to it. He rarely spouted anything sappy as is, it wasn't something he did. He simply stated what was true to him, what he appreciated in others or acknowledged in them. But stating how beautiful he found his boyfriend's smile or laugh? There was no way to really do that. All he could do was think that he wants him to smile more, feeling embarrassed to even think the words that he wants the world to be brighter, more accessible and easier to walk for his beloved. Even if he had told Maya those things, he still immediately got embarrassed when they did cross his mind again.
He couldn't help preferring the simple feeling of that sentiment.
The feeling of that smile making him feel strong, yet weak in the limbs.
Of his smile and laugh giving him reason and strength to work harder than ever.
It was warm and bright, and all Taichi wanted to do was bask in it.
The warmth that filled his heart was incomparable, only coming close to the warmth of his arms around him.
While dwelling on the warm feeling coursing through his body, Taichi finally heard him call out to him and noticed how the other was waving a hand in front of his face trying to get his attention.
'Taichi. Is anything wrong?'
Taichi froze for a second and then shook his head.
'Huh? Oh, n-no, it's nothing.'
He could feel his cheeks burn and looked away shyly before changing the topic to distract from his flustered state.
But the feeling of longing for his smile lingered.
Even if he couldn't bring himself to actually say it. | 12cfdfa8099a47a198355cf8d336932f | ['8d99a373dd514f2aa06a113bc4179bbc'] |
1. Chapter 1
Flowers are fascinating in a lot of ways. From the way they're shaped to the specific ways you have to care for them. They're delicate, yet resilient. And caring for them was something that Kouhei liked a lot, almost even more ever since he started working at the little flower shop on the corner of a busy street.
He had been fond of plants ever since he was a child, starting with the day his mother gave him a potted plant as a gift. It was intended as a little test to see if he would take care of it properly, if he would take his responsibilities seriously. She promised him that if he was careful and responsible with it, they would get him the pet he had wanted for a while. So from then on he would care for it, watering it when needed and observing its growth. When it got too big for the little pot it came in, he carried it over into a new one using some fresh soil too. He proved how responsible he could be very quickly, in the end though when they got a hamster like he wished, it turned out he was allergic to it. They gave the little guy away to a friend of his from elementary school who had also wished for a hamster. And though it felt devastating to 8 year old Kouhei, he got over it after a while.
Instead Kouhei had continued to take care of his little plant and got a few more over the years, adding some flowers and making his room a little more colorful. Balancing the lack of color and the simple setup of his room with the few living beings placed on his windowsill and desk.
Over the years Kouhei grew up and dealt with the blows life dealt him one step at a time. When he lost part of his hearing ability, it took quite a long time to get used to it. Not hearing others as clearly and easily as before was a pain and people seemed to pity him for the loss of it. Even with his hearing aid he still had problems with some voices. It made him drift away from his peers bit by bit, accompanied by disappointment and hurt in most cases. Most of them didn’t even care enough to repeat what they were saying, only saying that it’s too much of a hassle and that it wasn’t important anyway. Little by little Kouhei spoke less with them, keeping to himself and minding his own business instead.
When he was in his first year of university, Kouhei decided to get a part-time job to pay for some of his expenses that emerged because of his hearing impairment and recently added study material to make things easier for his mother. It wasn't really necessary, but he felt he needed to have this experience and to see whether working a simple job would work out okay even with his hearing impairment. So when he saw the posting outside the flower shop, he decided to go for it. He wasn’t sure if they would employ him at first but the shop was run by an older woman called Hirano-san who seemed to be happy to have him. They worked out a simple solution that made it possible for Kouhei to work there. Due to his hearing he didn’t always pick up on what other people were talking, so for the most part he worked in the back and only seldom helped out at the cashier counter.
Months flew by and he had gotten used to working and enjoyed being in the shop a lot. It felt comfortable to work with something that made him feel at home. He wasn’t the most chatty type of person and kept mostly to himself, even going as far as to eat alone during his breaks at school and also at work. But he was used to it and it didn’t bother him by now. Thinking back on his school life, he was actually more content being on his own now. At least that way no one bothered with him and he didn’t have to feel bad about making people repeat themselves again and again. It was hard enough to live with the drowned out faint sounds of everyday life and he felt it just wasn’t worth it to bother others with it too much anymore. At least not as long as he could get by without. As for the help that he actually needed, there were volunteers out there who could help by taking notes.
Even so there were some shifts at the shop when Kouhei had to work the counter, though it was only in the evenings right before they closed up. It was such an evening when he first encountered the young man who would change his life. The sunset was painting everything in orange tones already when the young man entered the shop only minutes before it closed for the day, looking around frantically. He didn’t seem like he heard Kouhei greet him, he just rummaged through the shop’s interior until he found the cacti that were displayed. It didn’t take him long to decide on which one to take and grabbed it, only to get pricked by one of the needles sticking out of it. He yelped and almost dropped the pot containing the cactus. When Kouhei heard him yelp, he looked up from the counter he was cleaning and hurried over.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Y-yeah, I guess I rushed it a little too much,’ the young man admitted and laughed.
Kouhei took a look at his hands and was relieved to see that his customer hadn’t actually hurt himself.
‘But I’m fine!’ he added and smiled at Kouhei and carried the plant over to the counter, ready to buy it. |
e712d3fecb764284b232c16d5a92bc1f | ['8daf50d7a3984c4cae1151d2a7687cbc'] | “Frerin…” Thorin sighed, offering his little brother a smile that asked for understanding. “You’re forty-two, you’re not even old enough to be considered an adult.” “You were younger when that fire-breathing maggot sacked out home and still you stormed into the fight at the gates and in the vanguard too!” Frerin was desperate to make his point and he scooted closer to Thorin, grabbing his arm for support and to underline his words. But it only made Thorin shake his head. True, he had been much younger then, but it was not a pleasant memory.
The only thing he had gathered from then had been how small and insignificant a single dwarf was in such a situation and how terrible fighting was, with men around him dying screaming as the dragon carelessly stepped on them or brushed them aside as if they were naught more than flies pestering a horse.
No, Thorin had known since then that battle was not honourable or glorious in any way, no matter the cause and thus he was wary to follow his grandfather into Moria, a place he had only heard about in old stories and tales and never seen with his own eyes, but he knew enough to be aware that the place was lost to them and that there were good reasons behind Thráin’s command for his youngest son to stay far from that battle.
But of course Frerin would not see that.
He only heard the old warriors speak of glorious days in their past, of slaying orcs and marching to victory. But when his little brother looked up at him with pleading and hopeful eyes from underneath wild, dark hair it was hard for Thorin to tell him thus.
“Alright.” He finally gave in, heaving a sigh at his own inability to deny his brother anything. “I will speak to him, but I promise nothing, little brother.”
He kept to his promise. He talked to both his father and grandfather and at last they both agreed to let the young prince join the reinforcement around old Lord Fundin. Frerin would be at the very back of their army, where it was the safest. He would be allowed to join their camp and the travelling army, but he would still be safe.
How much they had erred with that assumption Thorin only realised when it was much too late.
In the midst of battle he had not had the time to spare a single thought about anything else but the orcs in front of him, the dwarves at his side and the weapons in his hands. In fact he had all but forgotten about their reinforcements, about anything at all when he had seen his grandfather being slaughtered and after that his mind had been blank save for the feeling of almost mindless rage. Even after the orcs had fled he had still been trembling with that rage for minutes after, unable to stand still he instead patrolled the fields to look for injured survivors.
Unconsciously he had strayed after Balin and Dwalin, seeking for his father with half his mind, even though he was terrified of what he might find and even more terrified of never finding him and remaining uncertain about Thráin’s fate.
It was then that he had realised over whose body Balin had stopped and only a few moments later realisation had dawned on him, cold and ugly, about what defeated group of dwarves he was looking at, their bodies half buried under dead orcs, dozens of them for each fallen dwarf.
After that he could only cry out, when he caught sight of a familiar slip of royal blue robes underneath silvery chainmail, buried beneath the vile corpse of an orc. His mind frozen with shock Thorin could only yell out and rush forward, throwing aside whatever he was holding. It was unimportant.
Nothing was important in this particular moment or any of the following, nothing except for his brother, broken and bloodied and cold. His desperate howl of pain was barely more than a devastated sound tearing from his throat as Thorin picked his lifeless brother up, gathering him in his arms.
“No! NO Frerin, no!”
He clutched the slighter body and pressed his forehead against his little brother’s as if he could force life back into him through the contact. “Brother, please! Please NO!”
But Frerin was not there to answer anymore. There were merely a few more gasps left in him, and Thorin was not even sure if his unseeing eyes were recognizing him, before the life left them.
Cold and limb he lay in Thorin’s arms, staring up at him with empty eyes and Thorin could not do anything else but cry and howl and roar and apologise to the empty shell that had been his little brother. Rocking back and forth as if to soothe a crying child.
“You were not supposed to be here. You were not… Please no… I’m so sorry. Brother. So sorry. Please come back.”
The sun was already setting again behind veil-like clouds, drenching the battlefield with red once more, when Thorin finally allowed anyone else near him again. He let himself be helped up and even let someone take the cold body of Frerin out of his arms. Swaying on his feet the young king did not say another word, nor did he look at anyone, his eyes far away and unseeing as he was lead to his own tent and helped out of his armour. He did not eat nor did he sleep any of those following nights they spent on the fields in front of the gates of Moria to grieve and offer their dead the last honour before returning to their dwelling in the Blue Mountains.
~ | bfa80d90ad28405c87af16ac2ca4930e | ['8daf50d7a3984c4cae1151d2a7687cbc'] | Gold and Silver
**Author's Note:**
> When I sit in class rather than take notes I make up headcanons about my new addiction.
>
> Khuzdul:
> amad = mother
> ah haza = my brother
> Limul ra kibil = gold and silver
> ah haze-chun = my sister-son
>
> all my mistakes are my own, enjoy.
The sun was slowly disappearing behind the Blue Mountains and Thorin glanced up just in time to see the softly golden sky turning ever darker. Slightly surprised he paused in his hammering only now noticing that he had been working for the whole day, from sunup until sundown and suddenly he could feel how sore his muscles really were. With a huff he put down the hammer and was just about to put away the set of cutlery he had made for one of the dwarf lords wife, when he felt something tug at the back of the hemline of his shirt. “Amad said to bring you home.” It was Fíli who was hanging onto the fabric and looking up at his uncle with big blue eyes, his little brother hanging from his other hand.
“Oh I am glad she sent me an escort. I will be finished in a second.” With a gentle tug Thorin pried the small hand from his shirt so that he could stand up. “Don’t let Kíli get too close to the fire.” He added when he saw how the tiny dwarfling peaked around his workshop with big curious eyes. It was not the first time for either of his nephews to be here, but usually their visits were brief and with them hanging onto the hand of their mother.
With skilled easy Thorin packed his tools away and made sure that the fire was put out before he quickly cleaned himself up and returned to Fíli and Kíli. “Uncle. Up!” Kíli requested as he waddled over to him with outstretched arms. As soon as he had learned to walk this had become his favourite request since he had noticed very quickly that his uncle was the tallest person he knew and that the view from Thorin’s shoulders was much better than from the floor.
Amused by the dwarfling’s commanding tone Thorin crouched down and picked him up, throwing the little body up into the air before he sat the giggling child onto his right shoulder, holding him carefully. “Ready to go?” “NO! Fee up!” Kíli put his tiny hands into his uncle’s hair and tugged at the dark strands. “Alright.” Thorin smiled at his other nephew, stretching out his other hand to heave Fíli onto his other shoulder and then got up when he had made sure that neither of them could fall off. “Go!” Kíli cheered into his ear, making Thorin smile as he went to leave his workshop, locking the doors behind him.
The way to his sister’s home was not far and with both his nephews blubbering into his ears eagerly he passed it quickly for which Thorin was grateful, because even if neither of his sister-sons were heavy he was still exhausted from working.
“What are you bringing home ah haza?” Dís called, when she opened the door to him and her sons. Thorin smiled at her affectionately. “Limul ra kibil, sister. All the riches we could ever ask for.”
“What does it mean?” Fíli asked quietly, when they had made their way into their sitting room and after his mother had went off into the kitchen again to look after her cooking. Even if the little dwarf knew that he was not yet old enough to start his Khuzdul studies he was curious to know about his uncle’s words. “Gold and silver, my boy.” Thorin explained with a fond tone and carefully let Fíli down from his shoulder. The young dwarf nodded eagerly, not really grasping the meaning of the words, but understanding that they were spoken with fondness and love.
“’m not silv…” the youngest dwarf mumbled unhappily from where he was still perched on his uncle’s shoulder and tugged and a few strands of his dark curls where they hung into his dark brown eyes, looking at them angrily as if it was their fault and then over to his brother’s blonde locks, apparently trying hard to understand the meaning behind his uncle’s words as well.
“Yes you are, ah haze-chun.” The older dwarf insisted softly, shifting the infant from his shoulder to rest on his hips, holding him securely. “Because a forge would be nothing without gold and silver, for you can make everything look precious. A blacksmith could have the most valuable gems in the world but they would be worthless without gold and silver, you see?” Thorin murmured into Kíli’s dark locks. “And you know what else?” Thorin continued, when he sat down, with his youngest nephew on his lap and his other nephew sitting in front of him on the rug in front of Dís’ fireplace.
“Wherever you will find gold you will also find silver and the other way around.” Fondly he smiled at the two young faces that looked up at him with wonder in their wide eyes. “So if you find either you will find the other and your home will be certain to have wealth and you will live well and with happiness.” Thorin ended, looking over to where he knew Dís was standing in the door, watching him and her sons. “Which is why you are ah limul ra kibli.” |
5079ad65b46f4172a6c89e71ba080571 | ['8db1d1221bbf44ca86bff11aef79d74c'] | Leon the retarded dog (Kaochis????????)
**Author's Note:**
> Pleas
Oh my god da human that Chisato has been friends with since womb popping time is here again. What th fuclk why are they moaning, Chisato must be in danger . I can't fucking.. open a door I forgot, oh god oh fuck oh shit I knew the purple lady was bad. Oh my god, I'll get a window view from outside. Come on Leon you retard, jump over the fence for Chisato who could be dying rn since the moans are getting louder. *Jumps over da really small fence* oh fuck oh shit there's white liquid everywhere is that her blood... Wait what the fuck is she killing Purple bitch?! Why is she sticking her fingers into there, what are they doing. Oh fuck Oh shit Purple bitch is over powering Chisato wha t the fu ck, Leon you absolute cretin go bjork at the door. im so fucking hungry lets get this bread from chisato after save her! I watched all the Karate kid movies so we going to smash this fucking door, holy fuck I broke da fuckimg door!!!!!!!!!!! Oh shit Chisato is getiing eaten what the fuck!! Oh my god purple lady is eating her fucking feet and ankles, is purple lady a fucking anaconda ????? I ran with the suspenseful track in my head using all my dog power and my info from watching karate kid smashing into purple lady. Kaoru (Purple lady) POV what the fuk do g??? Leon's POV Take that purple weaved bitch, what the fuck I need to shit og fucgk oh bifhrucndkn I must s̺̝̑h͈́͠i̻̹ͥt̍̆̚ my shit will become a defense mechanism and I will slap her with my fecal matter, monkey style!!!!!!! UghUhGDYUXDJn shitting intensifies!!!!!!!!!!!! lemme rub my body in this oh yes fuckimg shit bomb fuck you purple lady :drooling_face: jumpz!!!! Kaoru POV omge dog e stin ky wha t>>>>>>????????????????? Leon's POV!!!!!! She still hasn't stopped! Chisato is nearly gone oh cum oh shiet oh piss, It didnt work. I must eat the eater eating the food, I start at her feet for some reason she started moaning haha she deserved that pain!!!!! I am a dog capable of such amazing talents ugh fuck yes, purple haired lady started moaning louder as I vored her faster. I was so fucing bige.... at least im fed ugh fuck yes voring :japanese_goblin: OO OO AA AA bro….. purple haired lady is pissing inside me og fucj oh piss, im going to explode theis is way too much for me fuck fuk fcuk starts to shit purple haired lady out, oh godoh fhijso shes lookign at me seductively oh god fuck shes fucking eating me oh my gof at least ill be reunited with Chisato!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | 485d814e42fa4314abc520cf8b5410d3 | ['8db1d1221bbf44ca86bff11aef79d74c'] | Mischievous movie night
I vacantly stirred two steaming cups of tea; I grasped both cups heading for the table softly placing them. I looked over at the clock on the wall, she should be arriving soon and as if life was a script, there was a knock at the door. I opened the door and softly smiled at the tall purple haired girl dressed in her casual winter attire. “Hello, Kao-chan.” I snickered, Kaoru turned red almost immediately, “Hello, Ch-Chi-chan.” She muttered softly “Well, come in. I have already made some tea which is waiting at the table.” I chuckled. As soon as Kaoru entered the doorway, I saw the rushing gold blur, Leon who was already jumping up at Kaoru. “Chii-chaan! Help.” She whimpered putting her hands out to stop him from jumping. “Leon! Come here boy.” I whistled, Leon came rushing over to where I stood. “Okay boy.” I motioned to the room left of me. “He’s been quite ecstatic today, seems I will need to take him on a walk.” I grinned at Kaoru who was pale as a ghost from the sudden surprise “Oh~ Kao-chan, won’t you accompany me?” I whined mockingly, she snapped out of the trance “Ah~ your valiant prince will accompany thy princess.” She enthusiastically boomed. I hurriedly stuffed the start of the leash into her hands “Well, good luck my prince~” I snickered. “A-Ahaha, this mere dog cannot take me down.” She gulped, I opened the door and Leon zoomed out of the house I looked at Kaoru mockingly before she got rigorously pulled out of the house.
-
I softly held Kaoru’s hand in mine, keeping in harmony with her speed, I quickly glanced over at Kaoru who was gently blushing and smiling. Spending time with Kaoru was one of my utmost favorite things to do; even like this, it is so pleasing. “So, what do you want to do when we arrive at the house?” I questioned her “Hmm, well let’s just… hang and watch something.” She muttered softly startled at the sudden question. Upon arriving at the house Kaoru pushed past me, trying to pull the door open. I coughed “Kao-chan it’s a push door.” She went red and pushed the door “M-My princess.” She stuttered. With Leon tired out we could do what we wanted now, “So Kaoru, what kind of movie do you want on-““Y-You can pick my lady I am fine with whatever.” She sharply replies. I smirked at her “I think I have a horror movie somewhere…” I looked over at Kaoru, who deeply regretted her word choice. I giggled as I slipped the movie into the player I sat next to Kaoru who was already huddled in a fetal position, I pulled her closer to me having her head lay on my chest. I gently caressed her soft purple hair, I could feel her relaxing with every stroke. Half way through the movie, I heard her softly and quietly snore. I turned off the television, deciding to just enjoy the time with Kaoru who had just started to stir. Her tired gaze fixated on me, she mumbled something I couldn’t quite understand before she tightened her grip around me and laid her head on my chest again. My gaze everted to her sides I moved my hand right above her sides, I looked at Kaoru’s peaceful face before prodding her. “AH.” She screamed which followed by a bang as she hit the floor. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry Kaoru. I did not expect that reaction…” I quickly blurted “But…” I quickly slipped off the couch on top of Kaoru “Now that I’ve found something to do~” Kaoru started to giggle as I started to prod her sides softly. I quickly went into a tickle that made Kaoru start to cry a bit, I stopped tickling and glared down at her. In a moment, Kaoru got her hands free and pulled me down closer to her. I softly looked at her before embracing in a kiss, Kaoru’s grip on my back increased. I slowly backed out “Kao-chan…. I love you.” I muttered smiling at her. “Ch-Chi-chan, I love you too.” She stuttered. I caressed her soft, red cheek before pulling her into another kiss.
**Author's Note:**
> This is for Kaocha.nn's crops. |
e32499cf95604cfbb779d873ed9a2b5b | ['8deebc7e7fb54e60a7b34ce3bb88232e'] | “Danny tried to help me correct it. Blade saw. He got ridiculously jealous. We nearly had another row on the strength of it.” Lorraine took a shuddering breath. “The thing is... I _let_ it happen. I could have stopped Danny at any time, and I knew Blade was watching, but- I wanted to punish him, a bit. For the argument.” She sat back to let the waitress put her plate on the table, and picked up her knife and fork to make a start on the spicy chicken and rice. “So,” she concluded bleakly. “I fucked up.”
Jenny sipped at her soup. “You think you’ve lost him?”
Lorraine engineered a pause by taking a large bite of chicken, and chewing it for an unnecessarily long time while she thought. “Maybe. I... don’t know if we’ll ever have what we used to. Just... I don’t know if I’ll ever be so comfortable around him again.”
The horrible suspicion that had occurred to Eric occurred to Jenny. “Lorraine.”
Lorraine looked up and caught her eye. “Yes?”
“Did he hit you?”
“ _No_ ,” Lorraine said, startled. “He didn’t _touch_ me.”
Jenny let out a relieved breath. “Thank God. I would have shot him if he had.”
Reluctantly, Lorraine chuckled. “Thanks, but no thanks. No, it’s not that. It’s... I don’t think I can relax around him. I feel like I can’t trust him not to blow up on me. I...” Her voice trailed off. “I’d rather have heartbreak and perfect memories than an empty shell, do you see?”
“I do see,” Jenny said, putting down her soup spoon and taking Lorraine’s hands. “And I think you and Blade still have a chance. I lost Mark over less, yes, but we never had what you two do. I think this will fade, and you’ll still have him. He loves you, you know that.”
Lorraine met her eyes. “Do I?” she whispered.
Jenny found a reassuring smile for her. “Yes.” She let go of Lorraine’s hands and brightened the smile. “You’ll be fine. You just need to start talking to him again.”
“I want to,” Lorraine said wryly, “I’m just not sure he wants to talk to me.”
Jenny snorted. “I bet you he does. This is Blade, and guessing the workings of his brain is not a precise science, but I just bet you he’s just as uncertain and sure he’s made irrevocable mistakes as you are.”
“I’m almost convinced,” Lorraine told her, and took a gulp of water.
“You’ll see,” Jenny said, with more confidence than she felt. If Lorraine gave up, then she really had lost him.
“I certainly hope so.”
***
It was considerably easier for Eric to get hold of Blade. He just went down to the rec room, stuck his head round the door and said cheerfully: “Anyone know where I can get hold of Norman? I’ve asked around, but no-one can tell me. All the lights have gone in the pathology lab.”
“Fuses?” Blade guessed, looking up from his hand of cards and a rather intense card game. “Norman’ll be down in the caretakers’ office.”
Eric pulled a face indicative of embarrassed stupidity. “Which is... where?”
Blade got up, and put his cards face down on the table. “I’ll show you.”
Eric let a relieved smile slide onto his face. “Thanks.”
Blade led him down the corridor and through a confusing series of other passages; when he judged they were far enough out of anyone’s earshot, Eric said casually: “Blade, stop a minute.”
Blade halted, frowning. “What?”
“I’m afraid I told a lie. It’s not broken lights I need to sort out, it’s a broken Lorraine.” Eric bit the inside of his cheek, watching Blade’s reaction; the other man went very still, and Eric was abruptly reminded of a panther ready to spring.
“Lorraine,” Blade said flatly, turning to face him full on.
Eric nodded, folding his arms and leaning insouciantly against a wall. “I know you know my sister in more, ah, _depth_ than I do, and there’s things about her that you get and I will never, ever understand. But I’ve had more than twenty years of being scolded and helped and loved by her, and you’re _not_ going to tell me that everything’s just apple-pie perfect between you two when I can see that Lorraine’s walking round worried and unhappy and, yes, frightened. Or, you know, you might tell me everything’s okay but I sure as hell won’t believe you.”
He let the words hang in the air for a few moments, and then said: “Niall Richards, you owe me an explanation.” He nodded at a door. “There’s a nice empty lab or office or whatever. I for one would rather not have this conversation in the corridor.”
“We’ve sorted it out,” Blade gritted out through clenched teeth. “There was a problem, but it’s sorted.”
Eric raised his eyebrows at him. “Now, aren’t I glad to hear that? When did you sort it?”
“This morning. After Lorraine went to the firing range and beat the shit out of Danny Quinn for accuracy.” There was a faint hint of pride in his words, and it made Eric smile.
“Did you sort it before or after she went back up to her office?”
“Before,” Blade answered, and puzzlement flashed into his eyes.
Eric shook his head. “I hate to break it to you, mate, but then it isn’t sorted. When I saw Lorraine going back to her office after target practice she looked a sight more upset than she did when she went out.”
Blade was silent, but not the darker-edged kind of silent he had been when Eric had told him he wanted to talk to him about Lorraine, not lightbulbs. There was a distinctly uncertain tone in the air, and Eric took advantage of it, pushing the door open. “Ah. An office. Ooh, and the lights work too, that’s nice. Are you coming?” | c2940fa48e59404eaf7313c44e3b8f70 | ['8deebc7e7fb54e60a7b34ce3bb88232e'] | Lester cast a long glance her way just as they reached the staircase. “Would that be a problem?”
Lorraine bit her lip, and wondered what to say, but knew that Lester appreciated honesty. “Blade and I were going to visit Captain Ryan and Stephen, but it doesn't matter.”
Lester's brow furrowed minutely, then he smiled. “Of course it matters. I won't actually need your assistance tomorrow. Not really.”
Lorraine wasn't sure what to say, but by the time they'd reached the foyer she'd recovered enough to stutter, “All right then, thank you.”
He smiled at her again, which was really weird. Lorraine had the horrible feeling that the entire ARC knew about her argument with Blade by now.
“My driver can drop you at home.”
~
Blade closed his bedroom door gratefully and flopped down onto his bed. Through the Velux window he could see the stars twinkling smugly, as if the whole universe was conspiring against him.
He stared at his phone, and took a deep breath. It was almost midnight, and calling her now was bound to wake her up, but they still hadn't _talked_. He was supposed to be picking her up in the morning, and whatever these issues were between them, making things uncomfortable, they were still there. He'd left it too long already. He pressed a button and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello?” Lorraine's voice was sleepy. He could imagine her lying in bed, propped up on her elbow, hair awry and lips dark and full.
“It's me.” She must be tired if she hadn't checked the caller ID.
There was a moment of silence, and his heart sank.
“You woke me up.”
He detected no anger in her voice, and let out the breath he'd been holding. “Sorry. I just...”
“I know.”
“We need to talk, but...”
“You probably need to sleep, too. I heard about the postman.”
Blade felt like he was being given a temporary stay of execution, and grabbed at it gratefully. “It was a very long day. Will I still pick you up at 10?”
“Yes, please.” There had been no hesitation when she spoke, none of the fear he’d been dreading, and Blade was relieved.
“Okay, then. Sleep well. I... I miss you.” He could have kicked himself. Where the fuck had that come from?
“Me too.” There was a smile in her voice, and Blade lay awake with a grin on his face for ages after they'd hung up.
~
After the visit to Tom Ryan and Stephen Hart, Lorraine was feeling a little less like the sky was falling, and more like she was comfortably treading water.
Blade had lost the haunted look in his eyes that he'd had on Thursday morning, and they exchanged their tales of Friday without any controversy. By mutual unspoken agreement, there had been no mention of the events of Wednesday or Thursday. Perhaps they both knew that it would end in either tears, or something requiring stitches, and that it was best left until later. Just how much later, Lorraine wasn't sure, but she hoped not too long. They needed to clear the air between them, and soon.
Blade had seemed to relax completely in Ryan's presence. The ex-captain had been happy and content, and that would clearly help Blade to come more to terms with the new regime at the ARC.
Stephen had given her a knowing grin when they'd arrived, and Ryan had cornered Blade in the kitchen at one point, after which Blade had seemed a little deflated for a while, but on the whole it had been a nice visit, with good company and good food.
They waved goodbye, and Blade honked the horn as they drove off down the road, and then they were alone again.
“Ryan looked well,” smiled Lorraine.
A look flickered across Blade's face, and Lorraine felt privileged to see it. He cleared his throat. “I owe him a lot. We all do.”
Lorraine rubbed his knee, and understood a little more how hard it was for Blade to accept Becker as his new captain.
“Niall, I...”
A loud ringtone interrupted the moment, and Blade cursed. He steadied the wheel in one hand, and pulled out his phone. Lorraine took it from him automatically.
“It's Lyle.”
“Can you answer it?”
Lorraine's stomach felt heavy as she pressed a button and held the phone to her ear. “Niall's phone. This is Lorraine speaking.”
“Aw, crap. Lorraine, it's me, Jon. We've had a shout, we need Blade. Sorry.”
Lorraine conveyed the message to Blade, who cursed loudly again, and asked her to ask Lyle if they should go back and collect Stephen.
As Blade did a U-turn on the dual carriageway, Lorraine decided she would get a cab and go to Marsham Street. Lester probably would appreciate her help, even if he'd not asked for it.
~
Blade woke in an instant, staring up at a blue sky through his Velux. He could barely recall falling into bed after the anomaly the day before. Three big calls on consecutive days wasn't unheard of, and he was ready to go again, but he hoped to hell he didn't have to.
He turned his head and looked at the clock. 6:30.
There was no fucking way he was going to have another day where his heart lurched from moment to moment as another opportunity to clear the air with Lorraine slipped from his grasp.
~
Lorraine woke slowly, pulling the duvet under her chin and keeping her eyes shut. She wished Blade was next to her, his tall, lithe body solid, reassuring her, keeping the nightmares at bay.
She hadn't suffered a nightmare for some time now, but she still missed his presence. She blinked, wondering if having him here would feel the same now.
She'd had all of Saturday afternoon to go over and over their argument in her head. They'd said so much, he'd been so _angry_... |
b7baa42f3b1d4c58a5bd9d5f8c15cbbc | ['8df0c264f1e9487f9a1e60132f447265'] | “OW? What was that for!?” Amanda woke with a start, probably the first time she’s ever woke up this quick. Jasminka would have sworn Amanda could have slept through that if she wanted to, “Maybe I should have Stanbot remind me to do that tomorrow.”
“Good morning Amanda, I hope you’re feeling good today. You were already asleep when we got back yesterday, good sleep?”
“Screw you” Amanda stumbled to her feet and made her way bleary-eyed to their changing screen.
* * *
It was quarter past 8 when the three of them left their room, the class bells didn’t ring, like Constanze had thought they wouldn’t. The hallways were littered with girls that were confused about why they apparently didn’t have classes today. Constanze hugged a new iteration of Stanbot that she was working on close to her chest, hoping that maybe the day would be free for her to perfect it’s locomotive functions. This Stanbot could run, well potentially, she’d gone through half a dozen prototypes and each ended up being able to spin in circles really fast. She was coming close to a breakthrough though, perhaps a free day is what she would need.
As a collective, students poured into the common room, a part of the library that served unofficially as the announcements board from the Luna Nova staff. When she was eight Constanze’s parents took her to a concert, a small venue for a band called Three Windy Woman. Rock, if she recalled correctly, at the time her dad was still a party boy, from his jacket to his ponytail. Her mom in the car home that day told her that it was her dad’s care free partying that drew her to him. They had met in that very same venue, fourteen years ago at that point. Constanze didn’t remember much of the act, but she couldn’t not remember what her reaction was to when they walked out on stage. All at once it was loud, and bright, and everyone was moving, and her dad bumped into her. She lost the hotdog she was eating right on her pants. That was the day Constanze realized she didn’t like being in very loud crowds.
The throng of students around her were so so loud, everyone had questions and gossip. At least twice she felt someone step on her foot in their haste to figure out what was going on today. _“We need a bigger auditorium for these announcements, maybe I could sugg--oW!”_ Constanze’s thoughts were cut off when a student smacked into her from behind. She was pushed roughly forward, she found a way to a wall on the left side of their hallway. Next to her a brown haired girl leaned against the wall with a knee kicked up, gazing at her. _“Where is Amanda and Jasminka? Weren’t they just next to me a moment ago?”_ All she could see was a mass of blue uniforms swirling around her. She couldn't hear herself think clearly, but she could hear a blonde haired girl recounting the details of her date for tomorrow. Italian, off the main downtown avenue, a boy named Curtis. Constanze felt herself slide down to sit on the floor, the inside of her mouth felt dry. Like there wasn’t enough moisture in the air to get to her, too many people breathing her oxygen.
For a moment Constanze sat there, trying to collect her own breath, she’d read once that when you start to feel overwhelmed that you should breath through your nose. It proved harder when everyone around you was stealing the air from the room. A nose couldn’t match a higher suction power of the mouth, screw you Candice Gardina science has the key for getting air in your body! Another girl, a couple feet away was talking to her friends about a hard to parse chapter in her linguistics class, the language of plants or something. Conste’s chest was burning, she forgot to breath, she gasped a couple times and started hyperventilating. She felt pins and needles creep through her legs, were they going asleep? They couldn’t be going asleep, not here. She had to get back on her feet, if she didn’t she would be stuck here until she died of oxygen deprivation. She felt her heart thudding in her chest in a moment, and pushed herself onto her feet and walked into the crowd.
Her feet felt like rubber, like she couldn’t tell them where to move, she couldn’t get them to step where she wanted them to step. Her breaths still came to her hard and she felt like she was on the verge of a coughing fit. She wasn’t right, she should have let herself die of oxygen deprivation, at least it was colder on the floor, in the throng of students she felt their hot breath on her back. Oxygen that she wouldn’t have the chance to breath, the hall felt like a furnace to her. Finally she just stopped. Her legs wouldn’t move. Like her Stanbot prototype she had lost her locomotive functions. “Note to self, if I’m still alive in 30 minutes, research if this is what oxygen deprivation feels like. Also: buy oxygen tank, or robot arms that can push people aside. Seriously why can’t I move?”
The next moment Cosntanze was aware, she had fallen flat on her face, a girl she recognized from the broom disc team had collided with her from behind. She heard her Stanbot clatter to the floor, she looked up in time to see someone’s foot trample over it.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” Constanze shrieked. On all sides of her people separated, and Constanze felt a pressure lift off her chest for a moment. Until she realized half a dozen people were staring at her. “Uhhh” | 3c827205d731413393558b258ad07bf7 | ['8df0c264f1e9487f9a1e60132f447265'] | “Who the hell does that guy think he is, thinking he’ll be able to mess with Luna Nova so badly. And what’s with this making it look like we launched a freaking missile, what were they doing the entire time? Keeping their hands warm?” Amanda finally spoke up, stretching up to her full height.
There was a pause between the six of them, a plume of blue smoke rose out of one of the vials Sucy was playing with earlier. The smell of burnt Redwood made Conste blink the tears out of her eyes. “Sucy! What was that?” Lotte complained, getting up to open the door to the hallway.
“Oh, sorry, it’s nothing dangerous this time I promise. Might make you a little sleepy though, whoops.” Sucy looked through the now suddenly purple liquid that filled her vials, deciding the batch was rubbish she tossed it into the trash. “Guess I’m gonna have to delay your sleep solution, Conse.” Constanze gave a thumbs up in reply, covering her mouth with her shirt.
They set about ventilating the room from the sleep gas in silence, with the only casualty being Jasna, now silently snoring next to Constanze. Amanda and Akko had both taken the chance to nab the full bowl of Jasna’s pepper crunchies while they could, it was rare that Jasna made these so it was highlight to get so much of it at once.
“So, here’s what I don’t get. Why do they want to get Croix so bad? Whats even stopping them?” Akko finally asked, wary of her own ignorance.
“Oh,” Lotte paused to chew on her lip, “Before the Golden Age of Magic Witches and the nations made a treaty that the Witches would administer judgement on their fellow Witches and they would be left alone about their decisions. They decided that non-witches wouldn’t be able to handle the court cases or costs to figure out how to make a bad witch do her time. I guess with technology now it doesn’t matter and they think they can handle Croix.”
“Oh. Okay! Then we testify in front of them make them realize that Croix can’t be punished for the missile crisis.” Akko declared, beaming at the six of them. Just a few short months earlier Conste had been taken in by that patented persuasion tactic. The four of them knew just by looking at her that they were going to be talked into testifying before the six most powerful men in the world.
“That would be a mistake and a waste of time, those men don’t want to listen they just want to squabble over who has the power. Save your breath for someone more willing to listen, Akko.” A sharp voice that commanded attention called from the doorway. Diana’s hair was windswept in the way hair got when you flew too fast for too long, and her voice sounded breathless and raspy. Hanna and Barbara peaked out from behind Diana, both looking about as uncomfortable as they possibly could be going into a room with people they had tormented for so long.
“Diana? Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be at the meeting of the Nine Olde Families?” Akko asked, shooting a welcoming smile at the three of them.
“What, so mad you weren’t on TV you came back?” Amanda pretended to cough, Sucy choked back a laugh and shoved an elbow into Amanda’s side.
“How did your talk with the families go? Do you know what's going on with the summit?” Lotte scooted over and beckoned the three girls to take a seat.
“Apparently, thought I’m ‘incredibly talented’ I am simply ‘too close’ to the matter for a ‘child that should be focused on her education’ and they decided to not hear what I had to say at the meeting. I have been ‘recommended to stay out of the limelight to recovering from my traumatic event’ and they had the audacity to tell my aunt to look into getting me therapy even.” Diana broke off into a series of silent swears about a grey haired woman.
“You’re joking?” Amanda said “You’re joking.” She asked again, a smirk cracking over her face. “You’ve got to be joking.” Amanda fell backwards against Sucy as if this was the funniest thing in the world.
“Amanda, Sucy.” Lotte shot a withering look at the two of them.
Diana smiled at Lotte, “From what I hear they are giving Luna Nova the recommendation to do that for every member of the missile event. I don’t know if Luna Nova is going to do that but I don’t think Holbrook will impose on us. Regardless, they asked for me to be removed from the meeting until they have need of me, when I become the Cavendish matriarch I will have them removed from the meeting I swear it.”
“And so you came back, straight back? Weren’t you suppose to see the Hanbridges?” Akko asked.
“Mmm, I thought they would accept me but currently they are at the international summit, I will have the reconvene with them later. Is that the Summit now? Diana gestured toward Constanze’s television, Akko leaned over to unmute the sound.
“After a heated argument broke out between Headmistress Holbrook and President Kenyatta earlier today, the Luna Nova representative has been asked to step down and Luna Nova leadership be a government-appointed office. Negotiations are still coming from the Summit now, and it’s not confirmed the summit will vote on this but the Nine Olde families have been asked to make an appearance. It was decided earlier that the families would not have their meeting on Yggdrasil be public. Your opinions have been coming in all over the web as surveys are showing a, well, pretty even divide on…” Akko pressed the mute button on the screen again, and turned to Diana. |
c68d04ba1c1c4ce7998e7ce2770bb225 | ['8df242a4f5014d2fa5fbba036b316266'] | "Would you rather have me call you names? Like a thirsty whore? Maybe a begging slut? Did you want me to speak in a filthy way?" He laughed against the side of his cock with his heated breath. Holding onto it with his one hand, he licked up the side of him and admired the pretty colored veins aching to fill his need with rushing blood to keep it up. He sucked on the side just to show how he admired the taste and look. When his lips left the side, it made a small popping sound.
Pulling his mouth off all together, he peered up at the other with confusion. Slipping his finger out, he used his other hand to continuously jack him off. "What's wrong, Chorochoro?" Obviously, he didn't have a clue. When the other spoke, it wouldn't stop him from basically worshiping his dick with his mouth and tongue. Sliding his tongue around the head and slit, he listened the best he possibly could for being so distracted.
Increasingly delirious with pleasure, Choromatsu was practically drooling with the attention on his dick. The wet and rhythmic sounds, Todo's cute lips when they pouted while he worked on his shaft like he could only imagine in his dreams. He watched the other with glazed half-lidded eyes, almost forgetting the reason why he stopped him in the first place.
A particularly pleasurable feeling bolted up and down Choromatsu, making him remember what he meant to say, but not before tilting his head back and moaning out Todomatsu's name in sweet bliss. Ah, what he'd give to just fuck his mouth right then and there.
Oh, that's right.
"Your nail.. Hn.. y-you need to cut the nails- ahh.. - you're g-going use.." He finally managed to say through heated and scattered breath.
"C-choromatsu..." He mumbled at hearing his name being called out in such a sensual way. He licked his lips and continued his ministrations while he struggled to speak. Once hearing what he had to say, well... He was a little displeased. Todomatsu released his mouth from around him, but continued to pump him quickly with his hand.
"I'm not going to cut my nails. They're too cute... How about you finger yourself- Or, I could just sit on your dick instead, What do you want, my sweet lambkins?" Finished speaking, he returned to pleasuring him. His cat-like lips took him in once more, This time, he went a little lower than the middle, where he often stopped, and swallowed hard. Sweet hums and vibrations were made in the back of his throat as he tried his best to deepthroat him. Both of his eyes were open and looking up at him for some sort of reaction.
Between shallow breathes and groans, Choromatsu managed a quiet laugh. For that, his fingers combed through Todomatsu's hair affectionately. "Nn.. I would do that but.. ah- what I usually used I threw away before coming here.." He couldn't very well take his favorite toy with him. If he did manage to die in the forest and someone found him, he didn't want to be known as that guy found with a cat tail vibrator. Alas.
He'd have to do things the harder way. Since he was sure Todomatsu, being as traditional as he was, never heard of a vibrator. Electricity also seemed like a foreign concept to him too.
Still. He hadn't fingered himself in a long time. He just needed some help. The thought dispersed briefly by Todomatsu's oh-so-effective distractions. He could deep throat too? While he knew they were in a cabin in the forest that was already made so no one could find them, Choromatsu still slapped his hand over his mouth, muffling a loud moan. His back arched and he bucked his hips. God it was tight and warm and so good~
"T-todo.. hahhh..." He spoke finally, his muffling hand dragging down to his chest. Choromatsu was left a blushing and panting mess. This was almost too much for the virgin. "L-look.. I.. I want it.. t-to be unmistakable.. that I'm your's, Todomatsu.. I'll prepare myself for you just.. nnn- just give me some lubricant, please.."
If Todomatsu kept up like this, he wasn't going to last much longer.
What he usually used? What would that be? Wasn't there only two options? Your own fingers or someone else's dick. That was all he had ever known about. Perhaps one day, the other could introduce him to the new technologies of the day. He spent most of his life in the dark with only mere candle light and fires to guide his way. Shit, that would be a whole task to complete to show him such a thing.
When the taller suddenly bucked his hips into his throat, he did make a small gagging sound, but didn't stop. He still tried to bob his head in a way to push him even farther in his throat. If he wasn't careful, then he might accidentally end up digging his teeth down. Naturally, his jaw ached a little... But in a good way. He loved hearing the sweet melody of moans and sounds of pleasure escaping through the hand covering his mouth. It was so enticing that he wanted to flip him over and just go for it already.
His cheeks flushed a light shade of red at the other's honesty. Was this the same froggy he talked to not too long ago? Before, he was arguing with him and suspecting some sort of pain along with sex or an ulterior motive. In all honesty, he wanted to have sex with him for the hell of it. It was so long since he had claimed someone... This was most excellent though. | 5db9c1683ebc4b069b65998623237962 | ['8df242a4f5014d2fa5fbba036b316266'] | "Who even said I loved you?!" Choromatsu tensed up as he said those words, immediately regretting them as he crawled back to the chair he sat on the previous night. Even if it was a small chair, he used it to brace himself so hopefully he could stand.
The satyr was sweating pretty bad. He wasn't used to these new legs at all. They kept sliding against the hard wood floor, making it difficult to stand at all.
"Nghh. I thought you might have.. but then you do this to me.. Dammit, I can't.. n-nnn.." Choromatsu might as well be as defenseless and mobile as a newborn foal at this rate. God, and after what he said.. Todomatsu would surely hate him now and have no regards over whether he inflicted pain or not, would he?
This was awkward. Totty stared at the other with his same shit eating grin. Even though those words would normally hurt someone, he didn't really care. Yawning, he simply began to walk out of the room with a small giggle.
"Oh please. Do you really think that will phase me?" Tilting his neck a little too far to the right, he cracked it. "I'm a witch, Choromatsu. A few words of hatred won't make me cry. Do you think I got here because of 'love?' Ha! You're just mad because you picked the wrong potion~ Not my problem." Picking up his panties that had been thrown on the floor, he slipped them back on with ease.
Then, he turned around and pointed at the sheep. "Apologize, now. I want to hear you beg for my forgiveness... Or next time, I'll turn you into a maggot." His eyes narrowed and all playfulness was gone.
Even though Choromatsu didn't look at him, the harshness of Todomatsu's words made him flinch. If he managed to get through this situation alive and with his body intact.. he learned to only take his words with a grain of salt, particularly his affectionate words. Because for maybe a moment he might've believed Totty, and only for that moment might he have said the same.
But he didn't answer one way or another. Choromatsu struggled once more to get on his hooves against that chair. It was a difficult and admittedly painful process. Even if he could manage to stand, the slight bone restructure to made his legs digitigrade would make standing painful for a little while.
"If you turn me into a frog I hope you'll kiss me still. I'd like the princess to turn me back into a human again, ne?"What the hell was that about, then? Was this guy all talk? Even if he was, then Todomatsu must have been pretty weak. He actually believed him. What a joke. He should have known. It was obvious that the other could never actually say such kind things to a witch. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. Ah... He felt sick. The whole situation was dumb to begin with, but now he was wondering if it was worth taking his virginity rather than eating him.
Seeing that Choromatsu didn't respond, he grew a bit irritated. Maybe he should spike all of his food and make him remain as a sheep for years to come! That would show him... And when he got used to the hooves and such, he would switch it with something else. But still... There was one thing that bothered him.
Why did this frog manage to get his soft side out? Shit, Totty ate people. He did black magic. He was a murderer and yet...
"Shit..."
Choromatsu managed to struggle enough to at least get one knee onto chair, eventually just sliding into the chair. His thighs burned more with the effort.
Todomatsu was right. He did say those things.. and he meant it too. "I said it.. You're right.. because you weren't doing your weird witch stuff. You were.. being you. And I thought that you was really cute.." He said inbetween gathering his breaths.
"Fucking stupid, I know.. but then you do this to me! I know I'm just a plaything to you until you get bored of me! I'm still human, dammit! You made me feel a little special.. Like, hey, I might be happy have a future with this guy.. But I'm just here for your amusement right?!"
"I wasn't doing my weird witch stuff? What does that mean?" He frowned and crossed his arms. "I'm still me when I do my 'witch stuff.' I'm not a cute cuddly animal, unlike you." He huffed and thought about what the other was saying. Was he... Doing strange things? He was a witch. That was the deal. He would become a witch in exchange for eternal life.
As the sheep's voice rose, Todomatsu began to go deep into thought. So, what was it? Who was right? Was he right? Wasn't Choromatsu meant to be a play thing? Well, that was true. But... Then again, he had no idea this guy would still have this much life in him. Usually suicidal freaks were always begging for death. This guy didn't seem to do that. Plus, he didn't even try to hurt himself. So, who was the real liar here? |
d55503f92a54484f870b45cee37726cc | ['8dfe743a4d0d415ea50b320cf9f593e6'] | He looked up at Hannibal, standing stock still as the world contracted to only the two of them, the rhythmic sound of the tracks beating in time with their breath, the slight sway of the train car. It felt like standing on that bluff all over again, but this time Will was determined to make the choice he had wanted to make all along.
“Yes.”
Hannibal moved quickly, sweeping him up in a fierce embrace, lips searching, finding, devouring, seeking the only home they had ever known. Will let himself drown in it, let himself revel in the love he felt flowing between them. He marvelled at this impossible feeling of both finality and infinite beginnings.
Hannibal kissed his lips, his face, his neck, his hair, until they were both laughing and collapsed into a warm embrace. Will let his chin rest on Hannibal’s shoulder, feeling Hannibal’s hand come up to cradle the back of his head.
“You’ve made me a happy man, Will.” Hannibal’s voice was rough with emotion.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hannibal.”
Hannibal’s arms tightened around him once more, holding him close. His voice, when it finally came, was a husky purr in Will’s ear.
“Happy Valentine’s, Will.”
**Author's Note:**
> As always, THANK YOU FOR READING! Kudos and friendly comments are magical, and you are magical for leaving them!
>
> Come flail at me about Hannibal on LINK !
>
> I just wanted to say how proud I am to have worked on this fest, and how amazing it's been to be able to help Fannibalfest-Toronto. I was there for FFT1 and it was incredible! As a fan-run event, FannibalFest exists because of Fannibal support, and they're going to need that support again to host FFT2 in 2018! To help support FannibalFest by donation, please visit LINK :) | d376092094e649e68f939789d623200c | ['8dfe743a4d0d415ea50b320cf9f593e6'] | The words are a jumbled staccato along with his ragged breath, but Hannibal does as he’s told, bending behind him to push his tongue in beside his fingers, stretching Will further still, pumping and lapping into him, feasting until Will feels he will explode from pure need… finally pulling out entirely, leaving Will gaping and gasping to be filled again.
“Please… Hannibal… I need you inside… Now.”
It’s all he can manage, but Hannibal listens, lining himself up and driving his cock deep, one fluid push until he is flush against him and the world is obliterated in a prism of blinding sensation, an impossible mix of craving and satisfaction driving out all other thought. He is a bottomless pit of need, perfectly and impossibly filled with Hannibal’s punishing length. Will can hear his voice echoing harsh in his ears, but cannot even register it as his own. Hannibal’s voice crescendos along with him as he drives into him, fast and hard, relentless and perfect. Hannibal slings his arm around the front of his shoulders, pulling him up and back in an impossible arch, leveraging his thrusts as Will drives his hips back to meet his punishing rhythm in turn.
When Hannibal pulls out of him suddenly, Will groans at the loss of fullness, practically collapsing to the mat if it weren’t for Hannibal holding him up. He feels almost boneless, awash in waves of sensation, utterly open to whatever comes next, so long as he can be filled again.
“Look at me, Will.”
Hannibal grips him by the arm, pulling him up and around to face him. Hannibal is up on his knees now, and pulls him down to straddle his lap, arms hooked up around Will’s shoulders for leverage, driving into him again; impossibly full, impossibly deep. Will flings his arms around him to work himself on Hannibal’s cock, their foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, their bodies pressed together, sweaty and panting.
Hannibal tips him back, one strong arm underneath his shoulder blades to keep him up off the mat, still mindful of the new tattoo. Will drops one arm to the floor, grinding himself even harder on Hannibal’s impossibly hard length. The angle knocks the breath from him as Hannibal hits that spot inside him, over and over and over. Will is crying out with each thrust now, head thrown back, eyes closed, utterly free.
But Will still wants more… to close the circle… to claim Hannibal in turn.
_Reciprocity made flesh._
Will surrenders his weight to Hannibal’s strength, trusting. He lifts his hand and plunges his fingers into Hannibal's open mouth, moaning now as he sucks them down greedily once again, lapping at every inch as he continues to pump into him. Eventually pulling his sopping fingers free, Will pulls Hannibal’s body even closer to him, reaching around his flank as it flexes and thrusts to slide his fingers between Hannibal’s cheeks, circling his hole.
Hannibal moans loud in his ear and thrusts into him even harder. It is all the permission Will needs before plunging inside, driving his fingers in deep, stretching him open, twisting, claiming him for his own. Their rhythm syncs with each thrust, each of them penetrating the other to the sound of their open-mouthed cries, Hannibal’s cock sunk to the hilt, Will’s fingers buried deep. Will’s cock is trapped between them and he ruts against Hannibal’s stomach. He curls his fingers inside Hannibal, pulling him even tighter, harder, closer.
“God… Will... “
Hannibal’s voice is rough, his thrusts are becoming erratic and Will knows neither of them can last. He can no longer see, pleasure and mounting release obliterating everything except the feel of Hannibal inside him, and his fingers inside Hannibal. His cry comes as a plea and a command and all at once...
“Come for me, Hannibal!”
With his fingers still buried deep inside him, Will can feel Hannibal’s muscles begin to contract as his release builds, each of them thrusting even deeper into the center of the other. Hannibal reaches between them to grab Will’s cock like a vice, so that they both come together... hard, hot, blinding and entire, their voices merging into one seamless cry of conquest and completion.
Breath heaving, muscles failing, Will pulls his fingers loose, watching Hannibal’s eyes as they roll back, fluttering white. With one last burst of strength, Hannibal pulls them up and over so that they collapse in a sweaty, panting heap, pulling Will up to rest against his chest, still mindful of the new tattoo.
_His mark. Claimed._
The word no longer fills him with dread. Instead, it fills him with a sense of belonging, of infinite potential, of the possibility of home. And Hannibal is his in return; to have and explore, to learn, to revel in. He knows there is still much they don’t know about each other, but they know the things that matter. Will traces the edge of a tattoo curling over one of Hannibal’s shoulders, then down again to the nymph on his thigh. They speak volumes to him, of a darkness inside, of a joyous violence waiting to be free…
_Perhaps it is free already_ .
The thought bursts with heady potential. They will not be the same, but they are just alike. They are…
“Identically different.” Will murmurs the words into Hannibal’s chest and looks up to meet shining eyes and a soft smile. Hannibal nods and pulls him closer. Complete understanding.
“You see me, Hannibal, and I see you. Just as we are. No more hiding.”
All urgency gone, shadows brought to light. Hannibal’s fingers fall softly to caress the bandage at his back, moving up to trace along antlers and feathers, pulling him in closer to his chest. Hannibal’s voice is quiet when he speaks, rough with emotion as he holds him tight.
“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.”
Will pulls himself up to look down at him, leaning in to press a kiss to waiting lips, lingering, fingers snaking around the back of Hannibal’s neck to pull him closer… perhaps already hungry again, breath quickening between them. Will lets a smile spread on his face as he pulls back.
“It’s beautiful.”
**Author's Note:**
> As always, THANK YOU FOR READING! Kudos and friendly comments are magical, and you are magical for leaving them!
>
> Come flail at me about Hannibal on LINK !
>
> Also, go follow and participate in LINK Fannibals! We're there to help spread the amazing talent in this fandom for everyone to see! The last Friday of every month, make and check out Rec's of some of the best this fandom has to offer :) |
4bb3dd448f3e41469180d76e3be17a02 | ['8e01d72ceb7f4f6eab0216576ef19b73'] | “Don’t let them idiots get to you,” Johnny says and Jaehyun agrees that he won’t.
But it does. It really gets to him. He’s so pissed off at them, he doesn’t feel made fun of or anything just, confused. Why did no one believe them? I mean Johnny and Jaehyun had been friends two years before Johnny asked him out. It was shortly after Jaehyun renounced his skirt chaser ways, because he really wanted a boyfriend. He always knew that the boyfriend he wanted was someone like Johnny and eventually he realized that it was Johnny he wanted, not just someone like him.
They weren’t that much of an unlikely pair. They had a lot in common and jaehyun thought they were perfect for each other. In that cheesy romcom type way. Just no one could hold his attention like Johnny did, or pick him up when he’s down, or make him smile with a simple touch, or-
“Jae, you’re overthinking again,” Jaehyun casts his gaze down to Johnny whose laid in between his legs.
He’s got one of Jaehyun’s legs hiked up over his shoulder as he places kisses and bites into the skin.
“Am I boring you that much,” he punctuates his question with a hard bite.
Jaehyun breath hitches and Johnny smoothes over the bite with his tongue.
“No I just want you hurry up.”
“Why rush? I’m trying to celebrate my boyfriend,” another bite, “he scored game point, with an ace.”
Jaehyun begins to squirm, “you’re boyfriend just wants his dick sucked.”
All his old thoughts go flying out the window as Johnny begins to kiss his way back to Jaehyun’s erection. He gives it a long lick through his briefs before moving back up. Jaehyun whines, outwardly and starts to push the other back down.
Johnny keeps advancing forward, “I want a kiss.”
“Johnny if you don’t get your hand or mouth on my dick, I will leave.”
“Where you gonna go,” Johnny grinds his hips down into Jaehyun’s.
Jaehyun just shakes his head, rolling his hips up tp meet Johnny’s, relishing in the friction. Johnny leans down and brings them into a kiss. Jaehyun groans into it, living for the onslaught of sensations. But he wants more, kind of needs it with the way his dick is pulsing in his briefs.
“Johnny please,” he pants out when they break apart.
“I love it when you get like this,” he moves back down, leaving little kisses in his wake.
“Like what?”
“All needy.”
Jaehyun groans as Johnny takes one of his nipples into his mouth. He sucks hard, causing Jaehyun’s back to arch.
“Johnny,” he gasps out.
“Imma fuck you soon baby, just wait okay?”
Soon Jaehyun is bent over, chest to the bed as Johnny pounds him from the back. He can’t keep his little huffs and moans to himself and he knew Johnny didn’t want him to.
He can feel himself moving up the bed, or off it because they’ve somehow found themselves at the foot of the bed, as Johnny doubles his efforts.
With a big thrust in, Johnny stops just grinding into Jaehyun’s ass. He whines as he pushes back signaling for the older man to continue. Johnny runs his hands up Jaehyun’s back causing shivers to erupt over his body.
Jaehyun opens his mouth to protest at the lack of movement or goad him into continuing but Johnny hikes up a leg and hits Jaehyun’s sweet spot dead on. His words dissolves into high pitch moans. With one hand he reaches back, his fingertips brushing against Johnny’s abdomen.
“There, there,” he pants out in between moans.
“Yeah, feel good baby,” Johnny moans out.
Jaehyun could just nod his head. He could feel the pressure buliding up in his stomach. He was gonna cum soon.
“Johnny,” he cries out.
“Shh, it’s okay baby,” he starts grinding against him.
Jaehyun lets out something akin to a sob. He was about to plead when the bedroom door swings open. There’s a gasp and Jaehyun looks up to see Taeyong standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on his face.
“Taeyong,” Johnny questions.
The bedroom door is slammed shut. Jaehyun and Johnny are just stuck in their position.
“He has a key,” Jaehyun asks.
“No, I don’t think so,” Johnny answers sounding just as confused as Jaehyun felt.
The door is opened again and once again it’s Taeyong but this time with his hands over his eyes.
“So, are you guys dating?”
Jaehyun wants to scream. Johnny pulls out and he has to bite his lip to keep moaning. It makes a loud squelch noise from all the lube and usually that would turn Jaehyun on more but usually one of his closest friends weren’t standing in the doorway.
“Oh my goodness,” Taeyong’s hands fly from his eyes to his ears at the sound.
He blindly reaches from the doorknob slamming the door shut.
“So, do you guys just have sex? Are y’all dating? Be honest this time.”
Jaehyun rolls over on his back and looks up at Johnny who just giggles at his bored expression.
“We’ve been honest this whole time,” Johnny calls out.
“I have to call everyone.”
“Please don’t,” Jaehyun whines. He was seriously so close, so close.
He sits up slowly and Johnny beckons him closer. He crawls over until he’s in the other’s lap. Bringing a finger up to his lip, a signal for the other to remain silent as he takes Johnny’s dick into his hand.
“You guys have 20 minutes and then everyone will be here soon,” Taeyong shouts.
Jaehyun sinks all the way down and his eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling of being full once more. He leans over and kisses Johnny with fervor.
“Are you guys fucking again? This day has been wild from start to finish, I swear.”
They hear his footsteps this time as he walks back to their living room. | 7c21bff1b4f64e9691a0a7a6977d3bb6 | ['8e01d72ceb7f4f6eab0216576ef19b73'] | He brings his phone down, his body shaking with silent laughs as he shows Jisung. Jisung laughs too because Jaemin looks ridiculous.
“Now he can’t say he doesn’t snore,” Chenle probably tries to whisper but his voice is louder than the atmosphere called for. Jisung holds a finger to his lips shushing him.
Chenle had been spending a lot of time in Jisung’s room (Jisung doesn’t want to think about what that entails), so he knew how loud Jaemin could get at night.
The novelty of Jaemin’s snoring wears off and they slip back into silence. Jisung looks to his left and the stretch of the empty seat that he could have occupied. He’s sat unreasonably close to Chenle, his legs spread a little so their knees can touch. His leg bounces with nerves hoping Chenle doesn’t think too much on their closeness. He seeks Chenle out like he’s water and Jisung was a thirsty man in the desert. It’s funny how desperate he feels he has become, but life be like that. One minute you’re fretting over a pop tart and then the next you have a crazy crush on your best friend.
He feels something brush his hand, he looks down to see that Chenle has rested his hand on his own knee, so close to Jisung’s. He tries not to freak out because freaking out gets you nowhere. But his heart is racing and his leg bounces faster. The need to move becomes overwhelming then Chenle’s pinky reaches out for his own. The way his head spins over a simple action isn’t cool and if there is something Jisung has wanted to be his whole life it was cool. So, he takes a deep shaky breath and reminds himself that he is the coolest muthafucka on the block and nothing phases him.
_Then_ Chenle’s hand is over his. Jisung dares to look at Chenle who was still staring out of the window. Jisung looks down at their hands where Chenle’s just lays right on top of his own.
It really shouldn’t be surprising that Chenle wants to hold his hands. The gesture should be innocent enough, but the ever-growing skinship between them made this feel different. He’s been pulled along by Chenle, hand in hand on their way to cause trouble, for years and his stomach has never twisted like this.
Chenle’s hand looks so small on top of his own. A small smile overtakes his face as he looks down at them, he realizes his leg has stopped shaking as he just lets everything be. Chenle slips his fingers in the space between his own. He likes the warmth of his hand against his, he likes their newfound closeness, he really fucking likes Chenle.
Jisung looks up, the driver had to turn left and then they were back at the dorms, and in a fit of confidence, he rips his hand from Chenle’s causing him to finally look over at Jisung.
With a big inhale and his eyes locked on Chenle, he grabs his hand properly holding on. Their fingers intertwine and he looks up at Chenle who stares wide-eyed. The van rolls by a streetlight and in the quick pass of champagne light Jisung sees a red dusting on his cheeks. The world seems to move slowly as the van rolls to a stop causing them both jerk forward.
The driver shakes awake Renjun and Jeno does the same to Jaemin. Jisung hopes this hand holding and intense eye contact conveys some of his feelings. He knows that it won’t show them all, that one day he’s gonna have to swallow that nasty pill and say what’s on his mind.
But as the van door rolls open and Jeno and Jaemin clamber out. Jisung gives his hand one last squeeze as a promise that soon he will say all that he has to say.
+++
Holding hands becomes scared between them. It’s a normal thing to intertwine their finger in front of their bandmates. Behind closed doors, it feels sort of like coming home. He feels stupid blowing something so little as holding hands out of proportion but he loves it when Chenle crawls into his bed and they hold hands in different awkward positions.
Him and Chenle ended up rooming together at this music festival. The spare hotel bed goes untouched as Chenle has slept in Jisung’s bed every night since their arrival.
They sit side-by-side on the bed. The streetlights from the window cast a shadow on Chenle’s face. A face that Jisung has gotten used to. He still gets butterflies whenever they made eye contact but his fight or flight instincts had taken a rest. He drags his thumb across the back of Chenle’s hand listening to him recount the moment he lost his in-ear. His free hand wildly gestures and his face scrunches. He gets really into the story throwing his whole body into the explanation but he never lets go of Jisung’s hand.
Chenle has always been friendly and touchy, so outright with every movement and feeling but there’s something subdued now. He’s scared whenever he takes Jisung’s hand in private. He always moves slowly with fear that Jisung might turn him down, but Jisung would never dream of it.
He gulps as Chenle’s words tapper off. He shakes his head and waves his free hand at whatever he had just said, Jisung wasn’t really paying attention. He turns to Jisung his mouth stretched into a smile. He opens his mouth to speak again but Jisung one for never reading the atmosphere blurts out, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Chenle, one for never reading the situation, says, “there’s a lot of things wrong with you Sungie.”
Jisung makes a face mocking Chenle’s words and that causes him to laugh. Jisung joins in too and whatever scary feeling that was bubbling in his chest dissipates. |
79bccd5f88164cfaa808edd855886bea | ['8e0831631084472a895b7a3af926ef5c'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Enoch** has created **Leetle Creechers**
**Enoch:** *behold*
**Olive:** What the fuck is this?
**Bronwyn:** Language!
**Millard:** Let the gremlin swear
**Olive:** Yeah let me swear
**Emma:** #letthegremlinswear2k19
**Bronwyn:** *No.*
**Enoch:** yES
**Olive:** I’m gonna do it
**Emma:** yes
**Millard:** yes
**Enoch:** yes
**Jacob:** yes
**Claire:** yes
**Hugh:** yes
**Fiona:** yes
**Horace:** Yes.
**Olive:** ***F U C K***
**Bronwyn:** Nooo!
**Enoch:** We Stan a Queen 👑
**Millard:** If you say that again I will hurt you
**Horace:** That’s abuse
**Emma:** No it’s doing his service to this country
**Enoch:** I just feel so attacked right now
**Jacob:** That’s because Emma beat the shit out of you earlier
**Horace:** Wh
**Millard:** spill the tea sis
**Jacob:** So Emma and I were cuddling and watching a horror movie
**Jacob:** And it was all cool and chill
**Jacob:** And then Enoch walks in
**Jacob:** At first he just stared at us
**Jacob: ** Then he said
**Jacob: ** “Well that’s a big Hetero-Don’t”
**Emma:** I hadn’t realised he was there and as he said that blood splattered on the screen
**Enoch:** She screamed so ducken loud it was hilarious
**Emma:** You screamed even louder when I was beating you up
**Enoch:** *Bitch*
**Bronwyn:** *please no swear*
**Horace:** Heck!
**Enoch: ** ALSKJDJSJS
**Horace:** ?
**Millard:** lmao you killed him
**Fiona:** He’s in the ground quietly screaming
**Claire:** How do you quietly scream?
**Fiona:** It’s like he’s screaming
**Fiona:** But at a whisper volume
**Hugh:** it’s fucking hilarious
**Horace:** I don’t understand??
**Millard:** You killed him
**Millard:** simple as that bud
**Enoch:** It was funny don’t judge me
**Bronwyn:** Nobody’s gonna judge you here 😊
**Enoch:** *Disgusting*
**Bronwyn:** Alright then square up pussy boy
**Jacob:** oh shit
**Enoch:** I’msorryhavemercyonme
**Bronwyn:** Apology accepted 😌
**Claire:** Dammit I thought Enoch was finally gonna get the beating he deserves
**Horace:** If only,,,,,
**Enoch:** hey! I’m still here
**Horace:** How unfortunate
**Enoch:** bitch
**Horace:** I’m a hot bitch
**Enoch:** fuck I’ve been bamboozled again
**Emma:** In other news, who wants pizza?
**Millard:** do you even have to ask?
**Emma: ** fair enough
**Enoch**>**Emma**
**Enoch:** If you get Hawaiian I’ll cut you
**Emma:** god luck shorty
**Enoch:** I’m telling your boyfriend
**Emma:** fuckpleaseno
**Enoch:** get meat lovers pizza or I’ll tell your boyfriend that you insulted me, the you’ll lose your stupid little bet and will have to do all my chores for a month
**Emma:** fine
**Leetle Creechers**
**Horace:** gimme
**Millard:** gimme
**Hugh:** gimme
**Olive: a man after midnight**
**Fiona:** No
**Fiona:** stop
**Hugh:** aww c’mon fi
**Fiona:** No
**Hugh: pwease?**
**Fiona:**nope
**Hugh:** I’ll give wu extwa kiss and cuddews
**Fiona:** .....maybe
**Enoch:** No absolutely disgusting not in my Christian server
**Fiona:** Fuck you we all know you’re in love with someone
**Enoch:** what? no! lies!!
**Jacob:** She’s not wrong
**Enoch: ** No, she’s a fucking wench that’s what she is
**Hugh:** squARE UP DONT INSULT MY FI
**Millard:** Okay calm down mister white knight
**Hugh:** But he insulted Fiona!
**Horace:** He insults everyone, this isn’t something new
**Emma:** no beat the shit out of him Hugh, he deserves it
**Enoch:** why is everyone in this chat so eager to beat me up?
**Millard:** You’re very beat-up-able
**Enoch:** Anyway who doesn’t wanna beat me up say I
**Horace:** I
**Enoch: ** At least someone cares about me.
2. Enoch Fights Romance in the Parking Lot at Three AM
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Enoch don't like romance.
>
> He will fight it.
**Bronwyn:** Todays the day
**Enoch:** Friday?
**Hugh:** Fiona and I's 45th anniversary!
**Fiona: <3**
Hugh: ily
**Enoch: D I S G U S T I N G**
**Olive: _Not today Satan_**
**Emma:** Olive have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? because that was all I needed to keep me going today
**Olive:** UwU
**Claire: NO FUCKING UWU-ING IN MY CHAT**
**Enoch: _I think you mean my chat_**
**Claire:** Shut up emo-trash
**Horace:** Critical hit
**Hugh:** Look, I love insulting Enoch as much as the next person but,,,,, _Fiona_
**Fiona:** skskskskskk you're so sweet holy shit I love you so much hhhhh
**Hugh: nO I LOVE YOU MORE**
**Jacob:** Happy anniversary guys!!!
**Emma:** congrats my favourite nature nerds
**Bronwyn: <3 lots of love!!!!**
**Enoch:** Romance is stupid
**Horace:** Aww, c'mon. lighten up a little! romance is awesome!
**Enoch: No Horace not you too**
**Hugh: Horace is on team romance fight me Enoch**
**Enoch:** How dare you.
**Enoch:** The nerve of you people
**Enoch:** Absolutely disgusting behaviour
**Jacob:** Stfu you cranky old man
**Enoch:** Square up bitch-boy
**Emma:** _If you hurt my boyfriend I will melt all your homunculi and burn your grubby little face off_
**Bronwyn:** No!! No fighting!!
**Fiona:** Enoch you little fuck
**Millard:** sup losers what'd I miss
**Millard: oh my**
**Horace:** Everyone wants to beat the shit out of Enoch
**Claire:** In other news
**Claire:** There is a man at the door
**Emma:** whAT
**Jacob: ClairE YOU BETTER BE JOKING**
**Claire:** I'm not. He's just standing there, he knocked a couple times.
**Bronwyn:** Has he hurt you? Are you okay? I'll kill him
**Claire:** No, i'm fine
**Jacob:** I'm coming don't do anything till I get there
...
**Jacob:** It's okay guys. It was just one of my parents friends.
**Emma:** Do you think they're suspicious?
**Jacob:** Nah, I just told him they're on a work trip.
**Millard:** We better not let the bird find out, she lose it if she hears what happened.
**Hugh:** I don't wanna be dragged back to devils acre.
**Enoch:** she'll be catching these fists if she tries to take us back to that eternal shit hole.
**Fiona:** feisty Enoch is best Enoch.
**Enoch:** is this,,,,, love and appreciation???
**Horace:** y **es**
**Enoch:** Disgusting
**Horace:** What _isn't_ disgusting to you?
**Enoch:** there are some things I actually like
**Horace:** such as?
**Enoch:** being disgusted.
**Horace: fucking little shit-**
**Enoch:** uwu
**Emma:** d
**Emma:** did Enoch just uwu
**Jacob:** I'm calling the police-
**Bronwyn: mY EMO SON UWU-ED** | 441982520080454ca234e1416629a677 | ['8e0831631084472a895b7a3af926ef5c'] | When You Don't Give Your Icewing Time To Sleep
"And then he ran off!" cried Kinkajous dramatically, startling a few of the other patrons in the library.
Qibli gave a faked gasp, "Just like that? How rude!" he exclaimed, earning himself an annoyed look from the yellow and pink dragon who looked very disappointed with his decision to mock her. (Although he did get a few chuckles from Moon and Turtle so at least some people appreciated his humour.) Not that this behaviour was very different from their usual antics.
No, this afternoon was the same as any other. They'd finished their classes and gone straight to their usual hangout. The library. They'd started doing this after the whole Darkstalker situation, they discovered that after a long,stressful day of learning they all really benefitted from the quiet and chill environment of the library. Well, most of them had. Winter, on the other hand, had decided that the best way for him to work through his issues such as the night terrors and his awful problems with trust was to throw himself into his work instead of, you know, _talking_ to someone.
That's what hurt Qibli the most. When they'd gone looking for Moon and the others he thought they had started to grow closer, Winter even started laughing at his jokes! But once they'd gotten back into their school lives and been around more people, Winter had started distancing himself and, oh boy, did that sting. The only times Qibli got to see him nowadays was when Winter stumbled into their room at one in the morning mumbling about all the work he had and cursing some icewing gods. Qibli had tried getting him to socialise with him and the other but Winter had just snapped at him and acted very cold towards him for the rest of the week.
Qibli sighed, not even hearing what Turtle and Moon were debating about. A sudden crash caused them all to jump and seek out the cause of the sound and, to their surprise, the dragon they saw when they turned around is Winter himself, looking down at the pile of scrolls he knocked down in confusion before realising what he'd done and scrambling to pick them up.
An angry looking Mudwing marched up to poor, apologetic Winter and pushed him out of the way and grumbling something about high and mighty icewings not acknowledging their own fucking surroundings. Winter huffed and walked off, looking around the library in child-like fascination like he'd never seen one before. Qibli rolled his eyes and turned back to the others who had already resumed their debate on... the eating habits of tree frogs in different parts of the rainforest?
Five minutes in and Qibli was dreadfully confused, why were they arguing about tree frogs? why did what they eat matter to them? were his friends in need of some immediate medical attention? He pondered this for a while until he was ripped violently back into reality by the shock of cold bursting through his warm sandwing scales, his body not even knowing how to respond, jump away or screech loudly and disturb the entire library?
Qibli's entire body had tensed up and he looked down to see none other than a heap of shiny blue-white scales, better known as Winter, flopped against him and using him as a support. The poor, confused sandwing looked to his friends in hope of answers but only finding more questions. Winter hummed softly as he nuzzled Qiblis cheek, causing Qibli to feel something terrifying in his gut, something he was very familiar with by now and something he wished would butt out and mind its own damn business.
"Mmmm, you're warm," purred the cold piles of scales who was acting very uncharacteristically affectionate. A hot, red blush bloomed across Qibli's cheeks as he tried to force out some sort of sentence. Thankfully, Turtle beat him to it.
"Winter... When was the last time you slept?"
Winter raised his head and cocked it, looking at presumably nothing as he tried to remember. "Uhh... M-Monday? I think? Yea, Monday."
Qibli winced. it was _Thursday,_ Winter hadn't slept in that long? No wonder he was acting so strange.
"Monday!?" Cried Moon in horror, even she wouldn't neglect sleep for that long.
Winter grimaced and buried his face in Qibli's neck, mumbling, "Too loud..." Pulling the blushing sandwing closer and tightening the embrace that Qibli suddenly found himself trapped in.
"Why haven't you been sleeping?" Asked Moon in a much lower voice, concern written all over her face.
"Work,"
Ah, of course. W o r k.
Moon and Turtle exchanged looks and seemed to be communicating telepathically about their little sleep deprived icewing issue. Kinkajou gave a huff of annoyance, a few colours flashing across her scales too quickly for Qibli to determine what they were.
"Stubborn, frozen lizard," muttered Kinkajou almost... fondly. Like the way a mother would to a mischievous child.
Qibli glanced back down at Winter and felt a rush of warmth through his scales and he smiled softly, "I'll put him to be-"
"Noooooo," whined the icewing, snuggling deeper into Qibli's side. "Comfy here,"
Qibli chuckled, "Okay, fine. You can sleep here." he said, looking to Moon and Turtle for approval and receiving nods from both of them.
"Yaaaaaay," murmured Winter before slipping into a blissful sleep.
**Author's Note:**
> I wrote this late at night after an idea came to me and its probably crap. |
549cd00e2a28467fba8e3ca552fe27fd | ['8e0c8bea69014a83b2ee4d8d03801158'] | “It has more leg room.”
Mack laughed. “You want more leg room?” He looked down at his own, much larger frame. “Isn’t that _my_ line?”
“Maybe I want it for _you_. I heard you groan when you stood up. I think we should take a break and walk around a bit. I’ll drive the next part.”
She had a point. The car looked great, but it was kind of cramped. He had the seat pushed back as far as it would go, and it still wasn’t far enough. Not for the first time, he wished he was a bit smaller.
“The GPS says there’s a lookout in another 75 miles. How about we stop there?”
“Deal.”
* * *
“And you said a selfie-stick was useless.”
Bobbi laughed right as Hunter’s phone snapped the picture, but it ended up turning out really well. It was a candid moment in front of a beautiful ocean view. They couldn’t have asked for a better shot: her with her eyes bright and a wide smile, him looking at her adoringly with his dimples in full evidence.
“In this _one_ , _specific_ instance,” she said with a joking tone of warning, “I might have been wrong.”
“Damn. One second. I need to get this on record.” Hunter fiddled with his phone for a moment, but stopped when Bobbi kissed him.
Grinning, he held it up with the stick again and got another picture.
His grin faded as their kiss lengthened. He was just thinking that maybe the back of the van would be in order when another car pulled into the lookout they were parked in, its tires crunching over the gravel.
“Oops. Company.”
“Right.”
Bobbi pulled away and pressed her fingers to her lips for a moment. This whole stretch of road had been so empty, she’d forgotten they weren’t the only two people in the world.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s alright.”
A large black man got out of a comparatively tiny car. The long haired woman with him got out too.
“The view is beautiful,” she said, looking out over the horizon.
“Yeah,” Bobbi agreed.
“Definitely,” Hunter echoed.
Neither of them were looking at the view.
“I’m Mack, and this is Yoyo. You drove by us a little while ago.”
“Bobbi and Hunter. You were at that gas station, right?”
“Yoyo?” Hunter looked at her questioningly. “Is that… short for something?”
“It’s a nickname.” She elbowed Mack and then smiled at Hunter. “Call me Elena. I like that name better.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
Bobbi smirked and rolled her eyes. Of course Hunter was turning on the charm. He thought every couple they met were their soulmates. As if it were that easy. It was hard enough finding one soulmate, but a couple? She was starting to doubt it would ever happen.
Even finding Hunter had been a complete accident. She’d been booked on a flight to Gatwick and it had ended up being rerouted through Heathrow at the last minute. He’d been looking for any flight at all to London and had grabbed the seat next to her when that person had cancelled their booking. When he’d settled into the middle seat, their arms had touched in preparation for fighting over the armrest, and that’s when they’d heard it. The same song at the same time, coming out of nowhere.
She’d actually looked around to see if someone else was playing it on their phone or something. Hunter had asked the man on the other side of him if he could hear it. After both getting answers in the negative, they turned back to each other with wide eyes and fast-beating hearts.
She couldn’t remember what they’d said in introduction, but they’d talked all through the flight and by the time they landed, they were together.
“Nice to meet you, Elena,” Bobbi smiled, holding out her hand. At the same time, Mack held his out to Hunter.
As they shook hands simultaneously, they all looked surprised.
“Can you-?”
“Do you hear-?”
“Is that-?”
“Holy sh-!”
Neither car was turned on. No one’s phone was going of. The only other sound for miles was the rustling of the wind and the chirping of crickets. And yet, somehow, echoing all around them, they could hear it.
Call it what you want, yeah. Call it what you want to.
Maybe it wasn’t impossible after all. | d1b28e253438469198a3c2520b9db069 | ['8e0c8bea69014a83b2ee4d8d03801158'] | She grinned again as she felt the hot air of Fitz's sigh on the back of her neck. They'd been together for three amazing days now, and her brain didn't seem to have caught up. Every single time he kissed her, she couldn't believe it was happening, and every time she felt his arms around her, she wondered when she'd wake up.
Fitz cleared his throat as he went about cleaning a dish. "When, uh," he started in his attempting-to-be-casual voice. It never sounded casual. "When do you think that 'future' might be?"
"Well..." Jemma shrugged, taking the bowl from him and drying it before placing it on the counter.
"Yes?" he asked. He never _could_ take a long pause.
"It's _hard_ to say for sure," Jemma waffled, pressing her ass back against him on the word 'hard'. "But probably sometime after we've finished the dishes."
Fitz's hands dove back into the soapy water and suddenly started moving twice as quickly as they had been before.
Jemma grinned down into the sink. He was just too easy.
\----------------
Fitz watched as Jemma set her alarm clock.
"Why in God's name are you setting it for that early?" he asked, lifting the sheets on his side of the bed and crawling in next to her.
"Morning sex," she said, looking at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Thinking over the last few days, he had to admit she had a point.
He looked from her to the alarm clock and thought for a moment.
"Better make it a half hour earlier," he suggested.
Just in case.
30. Morning People
Fitz woke up with a smile on his face. Curling further into his pillow, he stretched his legs even further out of the covers and inhaled the scent of Jemma's hair from the cotton. He reached one arm out to pull her in against him, but instead of the soft, warm body he'd been sleeping next to all night, his hand connected with rapidly cooling sheets.
_How_ did the bloody woman get up so Christ-loving _early_?
He looked over at her alarm clock and realized he'd woken up early as well. It really was amazing what he'd do for ~~sex with~~ Jemma.
Rolling over from his side to his back, Fitz stared up at the ceiling and remembered how he'd been staring up at something much more interesting last night.
With their plan to wake up early (" _Morning sex increases your body's production of immunoglobulin A which increases your immunity to disease. It also improves circulation and lowers blood pressure by increasing your heart rate._ "), they'd intended to go to bed early as well. But that plan had only lasted for ten minutes of spooning.
That's when Jemma's regular breathing had hitched in her throat and she'd started rubbing her ass back and forth against his hips.
"Fitz?" she'd whispered, threading her fingers through his where they rested on her belly.
"Yes?" he'd whispered back, eyes closed as he reveled in the feeling of his cock hardening against her backside.
"I was wondering," she'd continued, sliding their joined hands up under her tanktop. When they'd reached her breast, she'd squeezed his hand until he started massaging her there.
"Yes?" he'd prompted again, grinding against her. He'd moved her hair off of her neck with his other hand so that he could kiss her sensitive skin.
She had sighed happily and arched her back, pressing her breast deeper into his hand and making his cock delve further between her cheeks.
"What did you think of Chapter 24?" she'd asked, and even in the darkness of her room, he'd imagined he could see her blush.
He'd breathed in sharply, not entirely sure what to say. Instead, he'd wrapped his free hand around her hip and pulled her back against his sudden thrust.
Jemma'd gasped at that, panting out a few shallow breaths as Fitz continued to tease her nipple.
"Are you sure you want to try," Fitz had paused, hesitating. " _That_?" His hips had been almost out of his control, rolling fast and strong against her. The softness of her ass against he hardness of his cock, even through their underwear, making them both moan.
Jemma had rolled over then, pressing them together, chest to chest, and she'd sought out his eyes in the darkness. "Only if _you_ want to, as well," she'd said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I know I said it was your punishment or whatever, but I think I've tortured you enough for teasing me like that." She'd smiled at him, and it was the same smile she used when she bumped into him in the lab or took the last tea bag or they didn't have those little cinnamon buns at the coffee shop.
He'd kissed her back, rolling them over and pulling her on top of him. "I know," he'd said back, and he gave her the smile that told her she didn't need to apologize at all. "And if _you_ want to try it, then I'm certainly game to give it a shot, as well."
She'd reached down then and pulled her tank top off, and he'd stared up at her in shock.
"Oh!" she'd gasped and then chuckled lightly. "I meant in _general_ , not just _now_ ," she clarified, tossing her top on her floor and wiggling out of her shorts.
Fitz's breath had returned at that, and he was able to laugh at himself with her. "Sorry, I just..." he'd waved at her nudity. "Y'know," he'd shrugged.
Jemma'd reached down then and pulled down the waistband of his boxers. His cock had popped out, completely ready to perform. "Perfectly reasonable mistake to make," she'd smiled as he'd handed her a condom. "Considering." She'd made quick work of sliding it on him, and then she'd risen up slightly and guided him inside. |
8515df4a5ef5421196ce0fc42fa48f02 | ['8e193770ed0a4a55849908902c932fb0'] |
of prehistoric eggs, with love
**Author's Note:**
> i was inspired by an old hannigram post about hannibal making chicken soup for will. there is /no/ chicken soup here, but there are some culinary ingredients (because picnic, duh-doi). so that is how i found myself googling how to make mayonnaise while waiting for my flight at the airport
>
> this picnic (date) was referenced in my Beel/Gabe-centric fic called LINK, but both may be read as independent stories
Crowley woke up extra early this morning.
A firm believer that the world was already doing pretty great messing up by itself, he would usually sleep for days on end, only to wake up weeks, or months, or even a whole century later. For today, however, he found himself wide awake even before the sun crept up the horizon. He sniffed the air; it tasted like summer in Rome of 41 AD. Today was going to be a good day.
Around a quarter past seven, his kitchen (for the first time ever) had finally looked like someone used it. And wrecked it, even. As Crowley wiped the sweat off his brow, and the flour from his cheek, he looked outside his window and saw someone trip and drop their ice cream to the cold, unforgiving ground in front of his building. The day couldn't have been more perfect.
He arrived half an hour later at St. James's Park, Queen's _I Was Born to Love You_ coming to an abrupt halt as he turned off his Bentley and set it to park. Sprawled neatly by the roots of a big tree overlooking the river was a big pastel yellow blanket, on which Aziraphale was already sitting and sipping chamomile tea from a tumbler.
As Crowley started to think of what cool thing to say as a radical greeting, Aziraphale met his gaze and called him over with his brightest and chirpiest "Ah, Crowley!", and that was that.
"I got us a tin of Danish cookies," Aziraphale said with that familiar twinkle in his eye as Crowley plopped down beside him. "And some freshly made croissants from the bakery down the street, among other things."
Indeed the jolly expanse of cloth was littered here and there with Aziraphale's many cravings. "Looks like you hit every bakeshop in town, angel," Crowley said as he took a slice from a pan of treacle tarts. And, as casually as he could mutter, "By the way, I got you something."
"Oh, what is it?"
Aziraphale's excited response tickled the part of his (human body's) stomach where butterflies were made. But of course he came prepared with an answer to that question he hoped the angel would ask.
"See, I've prepared for you a most exquisite meal fit for such a fine day as this." Trying to come off as casually indifferent, Crowley held the plastic square container up to Aziraphale's eyes for viewing and opened it.
"Oh, _my_."
"Notice the crisp golden brown of the surface and the lining of the bread, sliced to perfect parallel loaves after baking in one of London's most antique yet functioning brick ovens, over the very same eternal flame that ya boy Moses found on the bush in the mountains. Inside each slice, you'll find - dare I say it - the most heavenly fluff of creamy delight, made of course from the very first egg among a dozen that the first chicken ever bore, found perfectly preserved in an ice block situated in the deepest caves of the Earth's tundras; after careful extraction I then transferred it into a clay pot that belonged to the childhood home of Alexander The Great, and boiled in what is the Earth's last few vials of preserved unicorns' tears. When that was done, I mixed it into a concoction of fine salt filtered from the Dead Sea, the finest ground pepper from Southwest India, and mayonnaise I made organically by fermenting vinegar. The mixture I then applied into the bread slices, which of course, I had already coated with a generous spread of butter made from the milk of the last living wooly mammoth that survived the ice age. So, dig in."
A moment of silence followed, which was filled by Aziraphale staring wide-eyed and motionless, and Crowley looking quite accomplished and pleased with himself. He sat back on his elbow cooly so as not to betray the giddy anticipation tickling his bones. In his peripheral vision, a not-so-athletic teenage boy was hit on the forehead by a frisbee aimed at him. The day was going really well.
"You..." Then Aziraphale began, his voice trembling. "You made me an egg sandwich."
Crowley did not expect for his culinary genius and efforts to simply be summarized back to him. The reaction he had visualized was a lot more different. It involved at least a bit of waterworks and birds singing in the background.
"Yeah, obviously," he replied rather crudely, in the way human adults do when they are sulking. "You're bloody welcome."
Aziraphale took the sandwich in his hands and held it delicately between his fingers. A few paces away, the not-so-athletic teen successfully caught his next frisbee as another speechless moment on the bright yellow picnic blanket stretched on, which was only broken when the angel released a sigh.
"Okay, so I only made _one_ sandwich" Crowley sat up and burst out defiantly with some elaborate hand gestures, "because there was only one _'first egg'_. I mean, that's exactly what it means. And where else am I gonna get more unicorn tears in this day and age? Or a wooly mammoth's teat to squeeze?"
As he rambled on, Aziraphale's forehead furrowed suddenly and his cheeks radiated a rosy glow, his eyes became noticeably glassy. | bdf96ae9d9d04077838034ea52f6a7aa | ['8e193770ed0a4a55849908902c932fb0'] |
dining with the enemy
**Author's Note:**
* Translation into Русский available: LINK by LINK
> A/N: do forgive me if the characters may come off a little bit OOC as this entire thing is the result of a self-indulgent fantasized scenario that started on twitter and got me getting up from bed multiple times between 1-2AM simply to jot down whatever came to my head
>
> also, they/them pronouns for Beel
“Look at him,” Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, one of the Seven Princes of Hell, Wearer of Knee-High Shorts, says as they stab into the small pile on their dish with needlessly ferocious contempt.
Sitting many tables away near the tall glass windows are Aziraphale and Crowley, who by their count, have gone to the eleventh restaurant on their fifth day of surveillance.
“That Balenciaga-clad, sunglasses-wearing, holy-water-bathing knave.”
“This is difficult to watch.” Sitting across them, the Archangel Gabriel grumbles as Aziraphale inhales the essence of before lavishing a spoonful of ambrosia. “How can an angel become… that?”
“Don’t even get me started on Crowley,”’ Beelzebub adds before digging in and chewing with needless intensity.“Gone native from spending too much time above ground. Fraternizing -- no, _frolicking_ \- with an angel!”
“A celestial being eating sushi. _Sushi!_ ” Gabriel has never looked so scandalized.
“I hear he’s taken to gardening in his spare time,” says Beelzebub. Apparently they’re following their own thread while letting the archangel dump simultaneously. “ _Gardening!_ How humiliating - demons aren’t gardeners; the only seeds we plant are doubt and temptation.”
“In hindsight, maybe we should have intervened when he started dabbling in the Gavotte. Or when he wouldn’t join us in chorus whenever we sang _Climb every Mountain_.”
“Remember went they went on a picnic last week? That Crowley made sandwiches. _Made_ them.” And as if the point wasn’t already clear, “ _With his own hands_.”
Gabriel grimaces. “How primitive.”
“My thoughts exactly, Garble!”
“Did you just deliberately mispronounce my name?”
Tables away, Aziraphale is laughing heartily at something Crowley has said. The affectionate facial expressions and subtle grazing of fingers that follow thereafter could give any vile demon a nasty case of diarrhea.
“How can he spend so much time sharing a table with an angel?” Beelzebub scoffs. This is immediately followed by them sharing a look with Gabriel and recognizing the irony.
“Well. This doesn’t count, we’re not enjoying ourselves.”
“Obviously. Unlike those two, we are here strictly on serious managerial business.”
“Absolutely.” And after a pensive pause, Gabriel adds, “For the record, that wasn’t us agreeing on anything.”
“... you do realize that if I say you’re right, then that means I’m agreeing with you.” Beelzebub’s fingers tighten dramatically around the fork. “Like the despicable celestial that you are, you’ve lured me into a trap.”
Gabriel’s face contorts into his signature “are you for real” face. He puts on an exaggerated shrug and says, “Then maybe just don’t agree nor disagree with me, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, and I’m saying so because I want to, not because you said so.”
“Okay, sure.”
Determined to get away from the subject, Beelzebub then examines the chunk of halibut they had stabbed with their fork. “Hundreds of dollars for a minuscule scrap of meat is a stroke of genius. These earth dwellers are saving our side so much effort already.”
Gabriel eyes the saucy dish with barely hidden disgust. He hasn’t ordered anything for himself at all, his own plate and surrounding utensils still in perfect arranged symmetry, untouched.
“Hm, I thought you angels were supposed to love all things, big and small,” Beelzebub says, an eyebrow arched as they go in for the bite.
“I simply do not want to sully this celestial body with… impurity.”
“Well we needn’t have been here if it weren’t for your idea to pose as customers in this posh establishment, Garbile.”
That was true - this had been Gabriel’s idea. There are three reasons why he suggested it - one, he has had experience being among humans. Two, Gabriel knows angels just can’t mess up on anything, that’s pretty much sacred law. Ergo, he can’t mess up on being human. The pornography purchase in Aziraphale’s book shop a while back is proof of his prowess in human impressions. And three, the chair across him has miraculously grown a couple of inches longer than the others, and the Lord of the Flies’ legs are dangling in midair.
Oh, and of course, the main point of all this - surveillance of their deviant subordinates.
While Gabriel is finishing his inner monologue, Beelzebub has just emptied their plate and is about to summon a nearby waiter. An arm half-raised, they call out, “Pitiful human vassal.”
Unperturbed in the slightest, the jolly young fellow saunters forward.
Despite the situation not warranting any handling, Gabriel says “I’ll handle this,” before he mentally dives into his archive of human vocabulary. His choice to not partake in earthly grub has of course not dulled his knowledge of it. Looking uninterested, Beelzebub rolls their eyes but allows this anyway.
“Hello,” Gabriel says to the waiter. “My, err -- _associate_ here would love to have an orgasm.”
Pausing only briefly but maintaining his work-required smile, the waiter says, “Beg your pardon, sir?”
Half-laughing, Gabriel says, “Oh there’s nothing to beg for but forgiveness, child.” The waiter doesn’t say anything, but continues to smile unerringly at them as he looks back and forth from demon to angel. Apparently, they have the same _Smile Always_ policy here as they do in Heaven.
When it becomes clear that the conversation has stalled, Gabriel then decides to flex his knowledge.
“It’s a kind of fruit. Tangy, citrus,” he says with the over-bloated confidence of someone who has watched a single economics-for-dummies video and proceeds to claim to know all the solutions to the world’s problems. “Naturally I’ve never had one, but I hear that those are very good.” |
38b33cb6b4384457acfef36ee44a8d9a | ['8e2b2f993a434200a80c7e80e0fc40c5'] | Derek could feel Lydia rolling her eyes. “We are waiting for the Agency people to come investigate. The activation of their spell leaves a small window of time for them to get here. I expect them within twenty minutes.” She explained with extreme prejudice.
“If the protection spell is so powerful, aren’t you afraid the people coming to check it out will be powerful, too? I mean I have no doubts that _you_ could handle anything, but even you admitted this spell was out of your league. And we are three members down. Well, two and a half.” Boyd questioned carefully.
Derek growled unconsciously at the ‘half” comment. Stiles was definitely not a half. Why was he even having this conversation with himself?
Lydia sighed. “Look, when you get a security system installed, and your security alarm goes off, do you send the installation guy or a police squad car to investigate?”
Silence.
“Judging on how long they took to cast the spells over all the areas which, I’m guessing Stiles designated as frequent enough to cast on, there are maybe one or two at the most who are capable of casting this caliber of spell. They will send someone to investigate before they send in a full squad, a mage who can dispel it at the most. But the person who cast the spell originally has to be busy, so they will most likely stop by later to recast it, you know like at normal business hours?”
Derek didn’t think it was possible for someone to be both smug and annoyed at the same time. He was clearly wrong.
And what she said _was_ smart. How she deduced this on the dot, Derek didn’t really know. Stiles would normally gush at her exuberance and brilliance by now. The silence that followed was bittersweet.
“And what exactly are we going to do with some half-rate security guard or mage? How will this help us exactly?” Erica sounded annoyed herself.
“Look. I didn’t expect any of you to understand; with the time constraints we had I had to act fast, hence the lack of explanation earlier. But, if we can subdue said ‘half-rate security guard or mage’, _that_ , we can work with.” Her smirk could be heard in her voice.
“Oh.” Erica replied flatly.
“Someone is coming.” Derek could hear the crunching of the grass beneath a pair of feet. She had been right, surprise, surprise.
“Right on time. Must’ve had someone planted in town, Stiles must have struck _some_ deal.” Her usual tone dropped a bit.
The figure stopped in awe, slowly strafing around the border of the spell, trying to make heads or tails of the situation.
“Quickly, before he can report in for backup.” Lydia hissed.
“Won’t they get suspicious if he doesn’t report in?” Boyd voiced quickly.
“Less dumb questions, more abducting.” Lydia began sprinting towards the figure in pumps, the werewolves quickly overtaking her.
Jackson was the quickest. What he lacked in experience since he turned into a wolf, falling behind in strength and endurance compared to the others who had been werewolves longer, he made up in agility. He was definitely the fastest in the bunch. He appeared behind the man, bashing the guy behind the head before he had the chance to even whip around. He slowly slumped to the field.
“Jackson!” Lydia shrieked, finally catching up with them.
Jackson shrugged at her, picking up the guy, an arm under each armpit. The guy was out cold, but he was alive.
Lydia rolled her eyes.
The man looked like he was in his mid-thirties, he was dressed in a simple black hoodie with dark blue jeans and a baseball cap. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a normal guy going jogging at night.
“Are you sure this is the right guy? He looks like he was just going for a jog around the school.” Erica questioned, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Who goes jogging at 11:28 PM?” Lydia shook off the question without sparing even a glance towards the blonde.
Erica glared.
“Check his pockets. That’s how we’ll know.” Lydia waved her arms at the mysterious man.
Derek could smell something strange. It was coming from his left pocket. He fished around, finding a small pouch of something and he carefully pulled it out.
“And that my friends is a pouch of allay.” Lydia smiled, doing a small victory dance in place. Very Stiles-esque, she must _really_ miss him.
“Pouch of—“ Boyd started.
“Pouch of allay, they are pouches made with specific ingredients to dispel very specific spells. I’m guessing this one is for,” She gestured knowingly at the lightning bolt display in front of them.
“If we dispel it, won’t Isaac get struck by the lightning?” Erica asked sincerely, pointing at the extremely conspicuous light source.
Lydia opened her mouth, and then closed it with a click. “Derek, go get Isaac.”
She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him close. “Don’t open the pouch until you’re clear. My spell will delay the pouch from deactivating the spell, but if you open it, nothing can prevent the specific effects of that pouch.” She eyed the pouch carefully before touching it lightly and mumbling a quick spell. “Okay, go.”
Derek carefully stepped beyond the border, the weird sensation of magic and time warping around him. It was almost like jumping into something with the consistency of lime Jello. Because lime was the weirdest flavor for a dessert, he never really liked the sour dessert stuff. The irony. He sluggishly made his way towards Isaac, the terror in his eyes exactly the same as ten minutes ago. He reached out his arm and grasped Isaac’s wrist, finding it hard to move him since the boy seemed stuck. He tried again, this time using his other hand, the hand with the pouch, to assist a bit. | 398d555e6c224898934cec255d9eb38a | ['8e2b2f993a434200a80c7e80e0fc40c5'] | Their phones buzzed as they waved goodbye to the sheriff after he gave them both a big hug as well as another slew of congratulations, and to look out after each other.
_Coming to pick you up at 10:30. Please be ready. Snacks are highly encouraged but not required. (BRING SNACKS)._
_-Ry_
And this was _really_ happening. He could feel Scott tense beside him as he read the message on his own phone. He nodded as he patted Scott’s shoulder, Scott nodding back before grinning.
Stiles decided that it would be easier if he brought his stuff over to the McCall’s and had Ry pick them both up from there. His mother was already out at work for the night shift, but called to give her own ‘good luck’s and keep safe’s’ to Scott and Stiles. He sent Ry a quick text to let him know of their altered plans and got the okay shortly after. They decided to kill the rest of the time playing video games and being lost in the things they probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while.
10:30 rolled around all too quickly as a sleek white SUV limo pulled up in front of the McCall house before coming to a complete stop. The window rolled down, the light from the inside of the vehicle spilling out into the evening.
Allison looked happy to see Scott and Stiles as she gave a small smile from the backseat. Ry waved them over to the big vehicle, a radiant smile plastered on his chiseled chin.
Stiles noted his honey-brown hair seemingly even more unruly than normal, but somehow adding to the overall appeal of the guy. He blinked hard at this thought.
The driver promptly got out and took their bags to the cargo space as Scott and Stiles got into the back. He wondered what the neighbors were thinking.
He couldn’t help but feeling a bit unnerved in such a flashy vehicle, they were supposed to be incognito. But he supposed once they were on the road it didn’t really matter who saw the limo, the windows were heavily tinted. And it was already pitch black. Then again it was 10:30 at night. He sighed as the limo pulled away from the McCall residence.
Ry was all smiles as he pulled a large duffle bag to his lap from the seat next to him. The limo _was_ fancy. He felt like he was going to prom is style. Stiles in style. Yeah. His stomach fell a notch as he thought about senior prom, another thing he would be missing. But it’s not like he had anyone in mind to go with _anyways,_ no one that would _say_ yes, anyways. He distanced himself from such dangerous thoughts.
“Alright guys. Some last minute stuff.” Ry pulled three folders from an organizer on the seat before handing it to them. “Standard contract, you know you’re going to be an agent, you get protection, families, blah, blah, etcetera. I would actually read it _before_ you sign it.” His eyes shifted slightly.
Scott shrugged as he took his folder and signed it immediately. Allison hit him playfully.
“What? I kinda trust him.” Scott shrugged.
Stiles chuckled. He couldn’t help but feel the same way, well almost the same way, only a little different? He also signed it, Allison sighing heavily before following suit.
Ry sighed a bit exasperatedly. But gave them all copies of their contracts without another word. He gave them a wry smile.
“What? Having second thoughts about us?” Stiles asked playfully, but inwardly holding his breath as he awaited an answer. When did he start seeking approval from this guy?
“No, no. Not at all. I’m glad to have you all on board.” Ry replied unzipping the bag on his lap.
Stiles let out the proverbial breath he was holding.
“No need for our fingerprints and blood samples or anything?” Scott asked, confused, almost disappointed.
“No need for that. We already have all of that, and then some.” Ry chuckled playfully. Stiles couldn’t tell if he was joking.
“Anyways,” Ry seemed to brighten back up. “Presents.” He dangled the heavy looking bag in front of him, “the only real reason to really sign on.” He joked with them as their eyes lit up at the word ‘presents’.
He handed Stiles a laptop, a sleek, black, extremely expensive looking laptop. His own laptop would have wept with jealously with just a look.
“I hear you’re good at the researching and stuff, and although I will be assisting with logistics and the such, this will most definitely come in handy.” Ry explained.
Stiles ran his hand along the top of the laptop before opening it. He definitely needed a new pair of shorts after this. It powered on and booted up almost instantly. It was smaller for a laptop about a 13” screen and light as a feather. Yeah. New pants, stat. He couldn’t contain the girly squeal he made as he tapped away at the keyboard testing it out.
“It uses a satellite data network not unlike a cellphone, but a lot more powerful. It also has some bells and whistles that normal laptops do not, like a signal emitter and a scanner at the top there.” He pointed at what looked like a webcam on the lid of the laptop. “It also gives you access to the supernatural files of The Agency. Just need to create a password later, and use your thumbprint as your user ID on the keypad there.” Ry pointed to the thumb-sized glass panel at the base of the keyboard next to the touchpad. He handed stiles a cord. “Don’t loose the charger.” He said pointedly.
Next he pulled out what looked like strange flasks with different colored liquids on them, the covers all strange and rubber. He handed a string of them strapped to what looked like a belt to Allison. |
93d2e6e5464843329dad64ab6399b4a9 | ['8e41fe434810459bbfdcc8f2a871514b'] |
Quick Play
I was busy playing overwatch when my boyfriend Taehyung arrived inside my room. I was wearing my gaming headset and was busy fiddling my ps controller. " Hi babe...just a moment i'm just finishing a game with my team okay...let me just finish this". Taehyung pouted and just let out a sigh and sat beside me in the bed.
I was seriously focused on the screen for 30 mins now when suddenly he transferred to my back and started hugging me from behind. I was in between his legs and he was resting his chin on my shoulders . He murmured near my ear and said " babe....it's babe time". I hummed in agreement and said " ...just a few minutes babe...i can't stop right now...Jungkook and Jimin is helping me clear this ". I didn't seem to notice it but it aflamed a blaze of jealousy in his eyes. So he started licking my ears, wonderfully moving his sultry tongue on my earlobe "...ahhh babe...stop...." he then moved closer to me making my back lean against is crotch area. He kept kissing my ears and neck sensually rousing my senses and my lust. I had to bite my lips while still playing while Taehyung then starts raising my top snaking his hands inside it and grabbed a hold of my breasts in his hands. He started playing my mounds in circles while his mouth continues on working it's magic in my ears. I felt his wet tongue slithering inside my ear sending tingling sensations all over my body. He then released my breast from my bra and started playing on my nubs with both hands.
My breathing was uneven and I couldn't ask Jungkook or Jimin on the other line since we were about to reach the boss. I was getting wet with Taehyung's torturous teasing. I suddenly yelp in pain when Taehyung painfully pinched my nipples making me let out airy moans inside the room "ahhhh.....". Jungkook and Jimin were surprised and said " are you okay y/n ah?..." my sweat were cold as Taehyung continues on teasing so I had to mask my voice and pretend to be okay..." ummm i just had some leg cramps...don't mind me...". Then Taehyung started grinding against my butt while sucking and kissing on my neck...leaving purple marks on them. Taehyung squeezes my breast making them fuller in his hands while rubbing his portruding tent on my butt.
His erection keeps on bumping on my butt cheeks while his succulent sucking on my skin felt so good. Deep breaths echoes on my headset as I continue on my game with Jk and Jimin. While Taehyung keeps on having his way on my body. He kept rubbing his hardness in between my butt cheeks making my panties wet inside my shorts. I sighed out airy moans as Taehyung keeps on licking on my neck. He then moved us and he made me lie on my stomach making me still see the tv while playing and him starting to take off his clothes at my back.
He leaned closer to my nape leaving feathery kisses on them. He kept kissing till he kisses my spine he lifted my top halfway and massages my breast again up front. He keeps peppering kisses on my skin till he reaches my back and he lowered then my shorts using his mouth and then slither his tongue on my hips and kissed my revealed butt cheeks from my thongs. He swiped my thongs aside revealing my puckering hole in front of him and then he started licking my butt hole with his tongue. I was squirming underneath him but he held me down making his tongue lather on my back side. He was teasing and flicking on it indulging himself with my hole. While me I was breathless i covered my mouth as I muffle down the moans that escapes my mouth. My body was quivering and I could hardly control my controller anymore.
" ahhh ughhh..."Jungkook and Jimin kept quiet in my headset as their breaths sounded heavy. I couldn't careless anymore as Taehyung just felt so good as he eats my puckering hole rimming on it using his tongue. My hole was red and gaping as he slithers his tongue inside my ass. I gripped the sheets and moaned seductively as me and Taehyung get heavy and heated. I keep moaning as he teased my insides with his tongue and he suddenly thrusted in two of his fingers in my other entrance. My body shudder in lust as his fingers sent an electricity down to my spine making my body tremble in pleasure. I couldn't care anymore about the game as Taehyung pleasures my body well.
His elongated fingers just penetrates my deepest points making my pussy wetter by the second as he pumps his fingers in and out of me. My body arched in pleasure as Taehyung edge me off to my high making my walls tighten around his fingers. He held some of my hair locks and as he thrusts his fingers roughly inside of me making moan loud inside my room and the bed creaking as he go on teasing my clitoris this time. Rubbing on my folds and teasing my small bundle of nerves.
My eyes shut in ecstasy as Taehyung proliferates the tension between us. Our breaths were heavy and the bed started to creak as we were both restless with the sexual tension building between us. Taehyung grunts sexily near my ears sending vibrations to my spine and his long fingers just felt so good inside me especially when he curls them inside making me lose my sanity with his teasing. I was breathless weak and drowned in lust when suddenly Taehyung stops fingering me . He took out his digits out of my cunt and started licking his fingers that was inside of me then he shoved those fingers inside my mouth making me taste my liquids on them as he slow takes off his shorts and boxers with his other hand.
Then he placed both my legs to the side as he slowly align himself to my entrance. He rubbed his engorged tip on my clit smearing it with precum then rubbed his shaft in between my folds. I keep humming moans as my nerves get electrified with his veiny manhood. Then in one swift thrust Taehyung inserted his entire length inside me making my gasps and flinched in pain due to the sudden instrusion. Taehyung then started moving at my back side not allowing my sex get used to his enormous size. Our bodies started rocking in the same direction as the bed started creaking and my mouth was agape moaning his name over and over as his shaft penetrates me deeper and deeper at every thrust. Jungkook and Jimin were grunting and groaning on the headset as me and Taehyung keep on moaning our sexual desires in the room. His balls was smacking so loud against my butt cheeks and the loud wet sounds could be heard coming from both our sexes.
He leaned forward cupping both my breasts in his hands molding and massaging on them making me swoon off all rationality left of me. He pinched my perky rosy buds making me flinch and clench tighter around his cock. His tongue slithers to my earlobe making wet sounds on it as he ravages my insides from behing making my pale white skin reddish from the slapping our skins make. The controller keep on vibrating as me,jk and jimin are distracted from playing. Taehyung then smirked seeing my messy state moaning non stop and my voice hoarse as I do so. So he took the controller from my hand and placed in near my clit making the vibrations and shaking of the controller felt by sensitive small muscles. My eyes rolled back and my body arched against his chest as I lose myself from the extensive love making. Taehyung was merciless and his speed never slowed down.
Then suddenly he pulled out and he lied back on the bed, I looked back at him with curiosity as I catch my breath and then he smirked at me and said " Ride me baby ..." his cock was portruding erect and twitching and I couldn't help but give in to his demands. So I hovered on top of him and held is cock and aligned it on my entrance. Slowly I slid myself down to his manhood. Stretching my wet caverns covered in precum. I groaned as I felt his veiny manhood opening my insides and my walls contracting around him. He held my waist as he guide me down his length. I let out a long groan when finally I had his full length inside of me. I was scared to move as I felt the fullness inside of me and this position penetrates to the deepest point. He grabbed my mounds and slowly massaged them in circular motions. I was squirming on top of him as he pleasures my front with his skillful hands.
Slowly I started bouncing up and down on top of him supporting myself using both my knees as I straddle on his lap. Taehyung keeps his fury eyes locked on me as I pleasure him with my cunt and slowly I felt his hip thrusting upwards meeting my move whenever I go down on him and slowly our pace goes faster making the bed creak louder and him pinching my nipples harder so it made tighter and wetter at the same time. " AHHHH UGHHH AHHHH AHHHH AHHH TAE....AHHHH UGHHNM BABE IM CLOSE!". Taehyung made his thrusts faster and harder this time making me rock against him in incoherent manner. Both of kept grinding our bodies till his thrusts became erratic and ragged he gripped my waist on last and push me down on him making him penetrate me down to the girth and with that he started unloading his seeds inside my womb coating my velvety walls white with his liquids marking my insides as his. My walls got tighter as I felt him release inside me making me bursts my apex of wetness too against his stomach. Both of us was panting loud as we heard Jk and Jimin doing the same with us. Taehyung kept cumming inside me filling my cunt to the brim with his love seeds. Then he pulled me closer to him and he kissed my lips while swiping my disheveled hair to the side.."..ahhh ahhh baby that was fantastic" then he took the headset on me and spoke through..." Like our live game Jungkook and Jimin? next time...don't butt into my babe time arachi?". Both groan and was mumbling complaints when Tae said again "...for round 2 better listen to the walls ...cause im turning this off". He turned off the headset and playstation and pulled me close to his arms and said..." I'm not done with babe time". | 562c4695ab7a44fcb263f6cdaba908d0 | ['8e41fe434810459bbfdcc8f2a871514b'] |
One more time One more chance
"I love you....Minji, I would never leave you...I'll love you forever". The voice of the guy said in her memories from 5 yrs ago. Minji was wallowing in her memories as she remembered my first love,the love of her life, the one that got away.
After so many years passed, it was that time of their high school reunion, Minji was very reluctant to go but her best friend co axed her to attend the said reunion re assuring that he was not going to be there. She attended and got relieved that she didn't see him , the said party was about to end when suddenly the crowd went wild and made some sudden noise inside the party venue. All were looking by the door in which there stood the guy she was avoiding at all cost " Jeon Jungkook". All their classmates flock around the sweet looking guy while Minji started hiding in the corner of the room trying to hide from Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook laid eyes on her after entering the said venue,but pretended not to notice her first while being flocked with questions by their old classmates. Minji felt suffocated inside and was nervous all through out the arrival of Jeon Jungkook but she kept quiet and hid in the corner as she tries to find an opportunity to ran away from the party.
Taehyung,Hoseok and Namjoon were with him joking around with Jungkook through out the party their group was pretty noisy. Minji started saying her goodbyes to her close friends as she takes this opportunity to run away from the party.
She stealthily made her way to the exit while Jungkook's group of friends keeps him busy. She hurriedly made her steps out of the establishment and was making fast pace steps out of there when suddenly she felt a hand grab on to her arm. She looked back and there she saw Jeon Jungkook holding her arm with a smile.
He smiled at her and asked " where are you going?". Minji was out of words seeing him up close,her heart beats fast seeing Jeon Jungkook again after so many years. She maintains a calm face in front of him and said " ummmm I need to get home". Jungkook lets go of her arm and tucks his arms on his pockets and said " I just got here don't leave yet.....I wanted to see you that's I made time for this". Minji was surprised Jungkook wanted to see her that's why he went to the reunion.
Minji was fidgety and didn't know what to answer and then Jungkook held her hand and started walking out of the establishment with her. Jungkook led her to his car in the parking lot and opened the car door for her " Let"s talk somewhere else I'll take you home later". Minji was taken aback for she was afraid to go with him but Jungkook insisted and had her sit in the car and started driving away towards a fancy hotel.
The car drive was awfully quiet and she could feel Jungkook's stare burn as she view the side mirror. After all this years, this is their first time speaking again. Jungkook drove towards a fancy hotel and led the way towards the hotel bar and we both sat on a private table inside it. He immediate ordered a bottle of expensive liquor and sat comfortably in front of Minj. Minji was just stunned the boy she fell in love with was now an adult and was now confident to be face a woman now, where in before he was totally shy around girls. Her thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly said "so....how are you all these years?". Minji was surprised he was casual in front of her , so she tried to relax a bit and answer his question " I've been good....." . Jungkook plays with his glass before he gives an intimidating stare while drinking it and then said " You know....you should relax around me, I just wanted to chit chat with you privately without our friends making an issue out of it. I'm already engaged so there's no point for us to talk about our past".
She felt a pang of pain in her chest upon hearing those words from him but she had expected it, since at the end of the day she was the one who left him. Minji smiled awkwardly and then started drinking the glass of liquor in front of her. Jungkook started talking about what he has been doing the past years to make things a bit litghter. He casually talks about his funny memories about college and stuff he does with his friends. Eventually Minji calmed down and started telling a bit about herself too over the years, it felt good that they were back to once they were but at the same time it hurts since this time, they are not anymore lovers.
Eventually both them were downing their drinks fast and was getting drunk as they talk for many hours. Then he said suddenly " You know....I still ask myself everyday why did you leave me? was I a bad boyfriend to you". He stared at her eyes with sad expression as his face is red from the alcohol. She was taken aback and couldn't find the words to tell him what happened. He held her hand and intertwined them in between his fingers and he muttered " Your...hand still perfectlly fits mine.....how I wish I could go back time to fix things up....I would have fix anything to your distaste". She started to tear up and couldn't answer him back. She couldn't tell it to him because he would hate her forever. |
6e564b74765d49f4a42d2795345df03e | ['8e5e30e631714c7f9009cc5a484d4ae1'] |
Bad Weather
**Author's Note:**
> this was kinda hard and unusual for me to write, but let me know what you think :)
The moon shone in a bright yellow light. The stars lightened up against the dark night shades. The rain poured down but the streets of Madrid were as always; they were never empty. The rain made it’s way from the clouds above the Spanish capital.
The white, silk, curtains were softly blown to the inside for once in a while, whenever the wind decided to whisper for a bit. The door to the balcony was opened and someone stood outside. In the pouring rain, whispering back words to the wind.
The drops of rain danced together while they found their way to the ground. Their destination. They fell down with elegance. At least they were never alone. They never came alone. He had never felt a single drop of rain, they were always followed by more. Until it was pouring. Until it soaked everyone. They came together and they left together. With elegance.
He exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. The wind ruffled through his soaked hair and the rain embraced his face. It slowly made it’s way around the curves of his face, until it dropped down from the edges of his cheeks. He inhaled.
Sounds came back to his ears when he opened his eyes again. The silence that had overwhelmed the Portuguese, had died on the Brazilian’s lips as soon as he, the Brazilian, began to speak.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the Brazillian said.
The Portuguese didn’t have to answer the question. They both knew the beauty of Madrid. Especially when it rained.
“Aren’t you going to tell me I should come inside? That I’ll get sick if I stay here, for another hour in the rain?”
“If you know it yourself, why do I have to tell you that then, Cristiano?”
Cristiano shrugged and stared to the buildings in front of him. He looked down onto the road in front of him. Everything went so fast. He wondered if people did realise, while passing the hotel, that the light of the second lantern at the right was more dimmed. Probably not. People didn’t stop and looked at the little things for a while. They were always in a hurry.
Cristiano doubted if Ricardo was still with him on the balcony. He wanted to turn and see if he was still there, but instead a hand cupped his cheek and lifted his head a bit.
“Let’s go inside, Cris. You’re freezing.”
“Just another minute.” The Portuguese answered and the Brazilian left. The Brazilian knew that he couldn’t change
Cristiano’s mind. If the Portuguese was up to something, no one could change it. They just had to wait and see what would happen.
He imagined himself standing on the pitch again. He replayed the match in his head. Again and again, over and over, detail for detail. Every mistake, every failure, every mistaken pass or every misunderstood run. He regretted everything.
Cristiano shivered and pulled the zipper, of his soaked sweater, up. Water ran over his back and he bit his lip. The wind caressed his heart and tried to fill it with air. Tried to make it somewhat easier. Unfortunally it was empty, or empty, it felt unusually heavy. How could emptiness feel this heavy?
Suddenly, two arms slid around his waist. There were no words spoken, only actions. Their fingers intertwined and they danced for a while, while the rain kept falling down from the black clouds.
“You scared me, I thought you’d been drowned by now.” The Brazilian whispered.
“How come?” the Portuguese whispered back.
“You’ve been standing for another hour outside."
“Oh.”
The Brazilian didn’t say anything, but in response he took Cristiano’s hand and he kissed it gently. The striker smiled and closed his eyes. He felt how the Brazilian took him inside the hotel room and the Brazilian closed the balcony doors. He gently put a hand on Cristiano’s back and shoved him into the bathroom, but the Portuguese didn’t move. He stared in the mirror, to his own reflection. He touched his cold face with a trembling hand.
“Do you see it?” he asked the Brazilian.
“I see a talented, young, handsome man, that needs to shower if he doesn’t want to catch a flu.”
“Ricardo” he paused for a minute. “All I see is a failure. I’ll never be good enough for the press. I will never surpass Lionel Messi. I will never.. never be as good as him. I will always have to watch from a distance.”
“I don’t see that..”
“Oh no? Why did you bring me to the mirror? The message couldn’t be any clearer. I have to start with the man in the mirror, no?”
The Brazilian jerked his head up. The slumped shoulders of the Portuguese spoke a thousand languages and a million words.
“Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro, listen to me, come on. Look at me.” The Portuguese threw a look via the mirror.
“You are the most amazing player I’ve ever met. Listen to me. Remember 2008? The Fifpro awards? You couldn’t vote for yourself and you had to choose another player. I chose you. Already, in 2008, Cristiano. They asked me last week whom I preferred, Lionel Messi or you. Do you know what I voted?” the Brazilian asked while he started to undress Cristiano. He took a neatly folded towel from the dresser. He rubbed over the Portuguese’s skin until he stopped shivering. Cristiano hadn’t said a word. Only stared in the mirror. Not throwing a look on himself, but he was watching the Brazilian. He was watching him with that sparkle in his eyes.
“They asked me who the best player in the world was. I answered with; ‘Lionel Messi is an extraordinary player, but to call yourself the best player in the world you have to contribute with the team. Lionel and Cristiano are the best, but Cristiano is more complete. He can score with his right leg, with his left leg, with his head and he can score from set-pieces. Cristiano is in my opinion the best player because he’s brilliant and he has the ability to think fast, act fast.’ That’s what I said.”
The Portuguese had closed his eyes and lend back against the warmth of the Brazilian. A slight smile, almost non-recognizable was drawn across his face.
“You told them I was the best player in the world because I am brilliant? It’s my beaty what makes me the best and most wanted player.”
“If that’s what you believe, then it must be true no?”
Ricardo left the bathroom and laid down on a bed while Cristiano took a shower. Ricardo shut his eyes , he let his mind wander for a couple of minutes and heard how the rain gently knocked on the windows, begging to be recognized. The wind whispered words at the rain and accompanied the raindrops.
The moonlight gave the room a mysterious glimmer and when Ricardo opened his eyes, the clouds certainly looked a bit lighter. They weren’t black anymore. They were grey. Heaven had stopped crying and the last tears dropped down over the edges of the cheeks. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow-
“Tomorrow is going to be the start of our year, Ricardo. We’re going to win the Champions League, we’re going to win la Liga and I’m going to be chosen as player of the year. But if that doesn’t happen, it won’t matter anyways. As long as I have you to temper me, as long as you accompany me like the wind accompanies the rain, everything will be like it’s supposed to.”
The Brazilian smiled and the Portuguese accompanied him on the bed, his head on the chest of the Brazilian man. Together as stars lighting up against the night shades. Together, caressing each other’s hearts, like the wind. Together as the raindrops from the black skies. Together, with elegance. | 6e600bf5d19b4c418ae8d490dbd01033 | ['8e5e30e631714c7f9009cc5a484d4ae1'] | Return us our futures
**Author's Note:**
> I do not own nor know these people. This is all fake. I stole the title from the song “crush- pendulum"
A whistle.
People threw up their hands in victory, others turned their gazes to the ground; defeated.
Time seemed to stand still. It seemed like all noise just faded out. His eyes were empty, everything was empty. He stared into the tribunes of the Allianz-Arena. He stared but saw nothing. His vision was too blurred for that.
If somebody just could come over and tell him that it was okay. No wait, never mind. He didn’t want anybody to tell him it would be okay. Certainly when it was anything but all right.
He had not noticed that his legs had given away to the pressure of the loss. He hadn’t realised until his back felt cold, soaked. It was there that he realised he had fallen down, with his back on the cold muddy grass. His blue jersey completely soaked.
Exhaling, inhaling, again exhaling. He got up and just sat down, squatted on the green field. Staring in disbelieve. It couldn’t be. How could it have happened?
They fought back! They bloody fought back and they bloody won.
and still lost.
“ Tomáš, c’mon.” someone said.
He didn’t look up. For what use were comforting words, if you could not believe them yourself? For what use were comforting words, if you just lost all of England’s hope? If you just disappointed yourself, once again?
He doesn’t remember with who he has been swapping shirts. He doesn’t remember Manuel Neuer hugging him. He wonders how much he'll remember of this night. Maybe he'll remember the emptiness that is consuming him. Slowly.
Suddenly there’s an arm, pulling him towards someone. Tomáš gasps for air and his nose bumps into the other man’s shoulder.
“Ow.” The shorter, dark haired man replies.
But it feels safe. Per’s arm rests on his shoulder, his hand plays with his hair, Per curls Tomáš long hair around his finger and yanks playfully at it. “Ow!” he hisses again, but smiles and he just feels how Per smiles too in that movement. It feels so safe, he really doesn’t want to let go.
He closes his eyes and for a second all the misery is gone. For a moment it doesn’t matter that they’ve lost. They played a decent match even though things went horribly wrong. Per’s drinking and Tomáš wants to bury his head under Per’s jaw, Tomáš wants that Per just holds him, right there. So Per can prevent him from collapsing. Prevent him from just breaking down in tears. He swallows a sob, bites back the tears and lets go of Per. Per looks at the older but shorter man.
When Per lets go after maybe a second, or two, the sound comes back, his vision returns. The Bayern München fans are still bouncing on the tribunes of the Allianz-Arena. Arsenal still lost on away goals from the Germans and they’re out of the Champions League. Per let go and his anxiety came rushing back. His feelings of disappointment. His urge to prove himself towards his friends, his family, his fans. He bites his lip and suddenly Per is there again, wrapping his arms around the shorter, Czech man. Wrapping his finger in another curl of Tomáš’ wet hair, yanking playfully again.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Tomáš confirms. |
a7cebdff88ab4a5fa24e883114a75d21 | ['8e95b96836d74a218af3adec843d4eda'] | The Omega’s head bobbing, expertly with a hunger that Korra rarely saw from her when oral sex was concerned – so many other times she’d relented and offered her sex instead to the Alpha. But now Asami wanted her mate to knot her throat before her vulva. And it was exquisite. Korra’s cock was pulsing even within her throat, nestling down her throat the more the Omega tried to take all of it. Against the bookshelf, for once the Alpha was at her mercy as she tried to elicit an orgasm from her mate. The engorge bulb at the base was almost at full size, growing and growing the more Asami took into her mouth and before long she came to her, opening herself up to take it. Korra was eyes shut and all in her own head when she felt a slick and trained pop. Suddenly her knot was wet, she could feel it, within Asami’s mouth as her lips came to Korra’s base and the Avatar completely broke.
A sea of seed spewed from her mighty cock’s head and flowed down her Omega’s throat, filling her there as Korra moaned heavenly into the air of their manor. There was nothing to stop her, all the more as Asami’s fingers came to drain her, gently pumping her shaft to the knot and back. The swollen bulb of tender flesh soon became almost raw as Asami massaged it, milking the seed from her Alpha and ingesting it like nothing as if it were coveted gold. It was to die for from Korra’s perspective. And from Asami’s, nothing could match her level of wetness now – she was even touching herself as she sucked every drop from her Alpha’s first load.
Everything changed from there. When Korra came to her senses, her cock still engorged and her knot even still hard at the base of it, she pulled Asami back up, tugging on a thicket of her gorgeous hair to tantalise her further and make her moan. When her lips parted, Korra reached forward for a devilish kiss, tasting not only herself on Asami’s wet lips but her mate’s very soul. Her scent became like a drug, Korra’s own supply of cocaine directly to her blood as her eyes only faintly glowed. The strength of the need she had to bury herself in Asami’s soaked sex was pushing her borderline to the Avatar State with how much she needed it now and without another second of delay. She gripped the front of Asami’s red lace panties and tore them at the seams, ripping them from her Omega with a demanding power. Asami was hers, and hers alone never to be anyone else’s and her strength displayed it. The faint glow in her eyes and the rough manner with which she pushed Asami back against the wall, even further to the mirror made the Omega’s sex drip with a needing slick. Against the mirror, she saw the collar again and Asami was reminded that she was Korra’s, her mate and her Omega. The musk of the Avatar made her almost drunk with it. Her pupils were almost eclipsed by the desire for her Alpha’s cock and she desperately fondled at her rear to grip a hold of it with her hand. Korra batted her away and gave her rear a possessive and dominant spank, making Asami jolt and cry out with a passive whimper. The sound unleashed it within Korra, the need to fuck her, to mate her and rut her so ultimately she’d try to even break the mirror.
“Again... Please, Korra... Spank me again,” Asami begged in a ragged whisper as she gave her behind a sultry shake against the firmness of cock pressed between her cheeks. The shape of the stiff member at the swollen knot at the base made her almost cream, biting her bottom lip as Korra hooked the loop of her collar again.
“You want it again, baby? Want me to make that ass red, hmm?” Korra asked her dominantly, her hand striking again with a loud clap rippling the air. Asami cried out again, a brisk scream that made Korra throb against her opening. She needed it and needed it now.
“ _Yes!_ ” Asami yelped at another spank, pulling at and parting her rear cheeks to allow Korra a smooth and easy entrance into her.
She felt the openness and then from that parting, Korra slipped inside of her, mass piercing within and causing the Omega to moan again from the ecstasy that came with her mate. Korra wasted no time at all in slotting into and fucking her Omega, developing rhythm within seconds and forcing herself in and out of Asami as she pushed her further against the reflection in the mirror. She held her lover’s hips firmly with strong and trusted hands, hands that Asami would allow to do practically anything to her when they got like this. Their scents mixed and melded into pure heroin between the pair, sweat on their brows and consuming their entire body as the space around them (even in the rather expansive manor) became uncontrollably hot. Asami clung to the mirror, her hands tensing around its shape as Korra pulled back on her hair and pushed herself deeper and deeper inside. All that flowed between their minds were almost linked, the sensations clouding rational thought and ascending them into a boudoir of supreme pleasure and loving connection. When Korra gripped Asami’s flailing bosom, massaging her soft fullness, the naked CEO was almost crying from the closeness, muttering Korra’s name in a flurry of moans and desperate whimpers. | c73c7b64124a4bfbb96c6242622670ed | ['8e95b96836d74a218af3adec843d4eda'] | She crawled the distance to the rifle, reached for it, but met not to wood and metal, but bloodied and mangled flesh of a blown up hand.
Rey looked right, to see a dirtied face burying sharp blue eyes and sauntered yellow hair. “Shhh.” The woman ordered Rey, holding a much healthier looking finger to her lips. With her other hand, she grabbed the rifle and handed it to Rey, her body hugging the wall of the fountain. If the thing still held water, she’d be underneath it, and Rey too.
“I sincerely hope you know how you use a rifle like that, comrade.” The woman told the deathly fearful brunette.
Rey nodded, lying to the blonde. From the stripes on the blonde’s shoulder, Rey could see she was a Sergeant, Third Shock Army, just like Rey, only the younger brunette was merely a Private, a common grunt.
“My name is Phasma. And you are a terrible liar.” Phasma replied, yielding the sniper rifle to Rey anyway. With her hand in such a mangled state, what else could she do? “Still, you will either learn now, or we will die.” She told the terrified brunette.
There came the noise of an engine. Not a tank but a civilian motorcar coming to the building ahead of their position. Phasma seemed to smile as she heard it like she knew who was about to arrive. At this, she began to speak in a low chant, but with a deathly seriousness. “Observe the motorcar coming into view…” She asked of Rey, and the younger comrade peered her head above the lip of the fountain wall to see the farcical procession making way for what appeared to be a VIP of the First Order war machine.
Rey heard Phasma’s clipper voice serve as an overture to her own observations.
“That man is General Armitage Hux. He is the grand architect of our beloved city’s perfect destruction, as well as that of countless others throughout all of the Motherland.” She told Rey as the new sniper scoped the face and ginger hair of the General clad in black. He had the face of a true believer of the Nazi regime of the First Order. “For three days, I have hunted him, and for three days, luck alone has saved his wretched life - with you here, this fourth day will bring his pathetic existence to a glorious end,” Phasma told her.
“What is your name, girl?” The blonde asked of Athens brunette, and she gazed at those powerful blue eyes in the middle of Phasma’s dirty face.
Rey had not spoken the entire time, words became difficult as she realised still where they were and what a tremendous challenge lay before them.
“My name… My name is Rey.”
Phasma smiled. “Rey. Sniping your target is like hunting any other animal in the world… you must stalk them for the perfectly precise opportunity. Fire at the wrong moment and your chance will be forever lost. Thus, we must wait for our master shot at General Hux.” She explained, calmly, so perfectly slowly that Rey felt a little at peace as they squalored in the mass grave.
She observed the General as he conversed with the Stormtroopers and smoked a cigar, cracking jokes it seemed. If there were rounds in the rifle Rey would no longer hesitate and slot a bullet in his brain, let the Nazis even add her to the dead for her trouble. But Phasma’s controlled tones kept her finger steady and her patience temperate.
“Why don’t we just kill him now and take our chances?” Rey asked nonetheless, still seething at what she’d covertly seen of Hux.
Phasma’s mangled paw rested on her shoulder and she scooted close to Rey, close enough to whisper.
“If we were to fire now, the fascists would have all the time in the world to replace him. They are close to victory, and there is little resistance left in this city. We must pick the most opportune moment to assassinate the General. Lest the Nazis take control of our attempt, and this fountain will be our graves, young Rey.” She told her calmly but effectively threatening.
She grabbed a hold of Rey’s arm and pulled it from her rifle, opening her palm with her still bleeding paw. With a brutish hand, Phasma pushed a large pouch of 308. Caliber rounds into Rey’s hand and clasped her fingers over them, reeling back into her sitting position and clutching her shin. More than her hand had been injured at some point. From feeling that, however, Rey determined that Phasma was missing her index finger and the others were bloodied too.
“Now,” Phasma breathed through the pain in her right leg. “Load your rifle, but wait until the bombers are directly overhead. The sound of their engines will drown out your shots.” The blonde told her.
Rey looked for General Hux but he was gone, he must have entered the building and disappeared into Nazi-held buildings. She turned to the remaining Stormtroopers gathered around his motorcar.
The bombers came swiftly, Rey was not ready, but she steadied her breath and held it in as two of the Stormtroopers became the same frame. As the horrendous sounds of overbearing plane engines drowned out all other sound, Rey fired the first round - it rifled through the first man’s helmeted head with a splatter of blood and grey matter and then continued into the spleen of the second man, getting lodged in there and killing him in moments. By the time the sounds of the engines had paused, both troopers were haunches over each other without alerting the others.
“Like a natural,” Phasma chuckled, scooting to her knees to observe, patting Rey’s waist lavishly as she eyed the next targets. “Two more by the car, then a third by the staircase.” |
a909f0b64d474e76adc679983d5a5ac0 | ['8eb554b2879744e7ba837f260a22cc03'] | Okay, so not what Spencer had in mind. Smiling, he slides back up until he's face-to-face with Brendon, kissing him slow and dirty, thrusting his tongue into Brendon's mouth until it's unmistakable what he's thinking. When Spencer pulls back, Brendon's face is flushed, his breathing hard. "Actually, I was thinking we could just skip to the fucking." Brendon grins, and nods in agreement.
They shed their clothes pretty quickly, and Spencer runs his hand along the side of the mattress until he finds the small bottle he keeps there. Brendon snorts a laugh, flinching when Spencer gives him a light smack. "Hey, man, don't judge. It gets lonely on the road."
Brendon grins wider, spreading his thighs. "Well, not anymore." It's cheesy, like really cheesy, but it makes Spencer's spine tingle just the same, and he doesn't waste anymore time getting the lube open and coated over his fingers. He knows the basic mechanics of this, and it's not that different from fucking a girl, except for how it's about a million times hotter. Brendon's head tips back, exposing his throat, as Spencer slowly, carefully presses two fingers into him. He looks gorgeous, skin sweaty and pale, and Spencer just can't help himself. Moving his fingers slowly, but purposefully, in and out of Brendon's body, Spencer leans forward, nipping at Brendon's neck and jaw until he's breathing into his ear. "Want this," he says softly, "want _you_. Since the first time I saw you, Brendon, fuck, you look so good."
The words seem to flow through Brendon's whole body, making him shudder. His hips jerk up every time Spencer presses in just right, and Brendon whimpers low, in the back of his throat. "Spence, _Spence_."
Hands come up from where they were clutching at the mattress, tangling in Spencer's hair to angle his mouth over Brendon's. They kiss, long and slow and lazy, but edged with desperation. Brendon's hips start fucking down onto his fingers, and the kisses turn rough, biting, because that's definitely the hottest thing Spencer's ever felt. Finally, lips raw and sore from being connected so long, Brendon pulls back and stares right into Spencer's eyes when he says, "Spencer, I need you inside me."
It takes only a few seconds for Spencer to dig around in his jeans for his wallet, and to produce a condom. He rips open the bag with his teeth, eyes still locked with Brendon's, making the smaller man squirm in anticipation. He smiles to himself, and before Spencer can ask what's so fucking funny, muses, "I was right, your eyes are seriously dark right now."
Spencer can't help his laugh, rolling the condom on and slicking himself up quickly. He moves over Brendon again, using both hands to gently lift his hips up and spread his knees apart, up toward his chest. "I think I recall something about... fucking you until you can't see straight?" His cock nudges up against Brendon's entrance, making him draw in a gasp. Despite his reaction, Brendon smirks up at Spencer, challenging.
"Pretty sure that went along with being pushed up against a wall." There's a glint in his eyes like fire, and Spencer, well, how can he say no to that?
Before either of them really register what's happening, Spencer's out of the bunk, pulling Brendon with him. The smaller man doesn't even have time to steady himself when Spencer turns him around to face him, sliding hands down to grab his ass, like he did earlier in the kitchen. Brendon smiles curiously, then lets out a sharp yelp when Spencer hauls him up, pressing him up against the small strip of wall in between bunks, pinning him in place with his torso and his palms. Brendon's smile falters when he realizes what's going on, expression going serious and heated. Spencer doesn't say anything, just locks eyes as he maneuvers his cock and slowly, agonizingly so, pulls Brendon down onto it.
With a loud thunk, Brendon's head connects with the wall. He lets his weight go a little, to slide down farther, until Spencer is balls deep and it feels so. Fucking. _Incredible_. Brendon lets out a wanton cry, not even caring that he sounds like a total slut. Spencer kind of makes him feel that way, but not used or humiliated, just... hot and sexy and unabashed. And anyway, Spencer's thrusting up into him hard, nailing that spot every single time, and he just doesn't have the attention span to focus on any type of crisis of character. So long as Spencer keeps fucking him like that, just so good and so hard and _ugh_ , he doesn't have a care in the world.
It doesn't take long before Spencer's hips are losing their rhythm, snapping desperately, aching for release. Brendon's helping now, pushing his own hips deliberately, moaning every time, sometimes Spencer's name, sometimes just random sounds and expletives. His voice goes high and breathy when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking furiously. With a shout, Brendon comes all over his fist and Spencer's stomach, and the clenching of his body around Spencer brings him over the edge, too, gasping Brendon's name.
They stay pressed together in the afterglow, breathing heavily and petting at each other. Spencer pulls back a little, hitching Brendon up to keep a good hold on him, still inside him, and brings one hand up to push some of his sweaty hair off his forehead. Brendon smiles at him, soft and almost innocent, which is fucking weird. But also gorgeous. Spencer can feel himself falling hard for this kid, and it's startling. He hadn't realized that this was more than just lust and unresolved tension. But Brendon's looking back at him like he's thinking the exact same thing.
"Spence?" he says tentatively, barely above a whisper.
"Yeah?"
Brendon just leans in and kisses him once, chaste. When he pulls back again, the look on his face is more a question than his words. "Is this... okay?" | ba639b5d843444d8b6f2b596a4265bf0 | ['8eb554b2879744e7ba837f260a22cc03'] | Frank shrugs, kind of laughing. "Not that impressive, right?It's where I come to relax.Kind of... get away from everything, I guess."
"Always in the middle of the night?"
"Usually.Sometimes I gotta scare kids away, like tonight.If I don't, they'll get the pond all full of beer bottles and shit.It's dangerous."As he speaks, Frank starts to wade into the water.When it gets to his waist, he leans back and floats, pushing himself along.Patrick sits at the edge of the pond and watches him, letting himself smile at the sight.Frank looks so peaceful, so careless.
"So what's so magic about it?"
Frank grins again, lighting up the trees. "It's not, really.Old wive's tale."Patrick grins back.
Silence falls in around them, comfortable, interrupted only by the soft splashes of Frank's hands as he floats to and fro.The sky isn't quite clear through the tops of the trees, but Patrick pretends he can see it anyway, that he can count every single star.In a way, it reminds him of home -- not Los Angeles, which was never really home to begin with, but _home_.Illinois.Camping with his family in the summer and building bonfires on Lake Michigan with Pete in the fall.Sledding in winter, and then those first warm spring days after long, dreary months of cold.All wrapped up into this little pond and the quiet _splish splash_.
"Hey," comes Frank's voice, cutting through the pictures projected in Patrick's head. "Look, those kids left their beer."
# # #
"Dude, are you wasted?"
Patrick laughs an inappropriate amount, and loudly.Frank laughs, too, behind him, pushing him farther up the fire escape ladder.He stumbles, almost dropping the phone, but manages to recover, though laughing even more. "No-o-o-o, Peter, I am perfecty sober."
"'Perfecty?'Man, you are so fucking drunk."Luckily, Pete sounds amused. "So you found a bar worth going to in that shithole?Surprising."
Frank rolls his eyes when Patrick stops for the umpteenth time. "No, no, not a _bar_ , not a bar.I went out with Frank."
"Frank?"
"You know-w-w-w.Hot creepy stalker neighbor."
Frank laughs sharply, and then, perhaps to accentuate one or all of these points, Frank places his hands firmly on Patrick's waist, steering him upwards toward his window. "I can't stalk you if I live next door," he breathes, close to both Patrick's ear and his cell phone.
Pete whoops with laughter. "I heard that!Dude, I told you!"
But Patrick's no longer listening.With a quick, "Bye, Pete," he snaps the phone shut and turns underneath Frank's hands.The shorter man looks up at him curiously, eyes shining in amusement.He mutters, "Lightweight," and then Patrick is pushing him up against the metal railing and shoving their mouths together.
Frank lets out a small noise, and Patrick just presses closer.He thinks about hearing Frank moan, _making_ him, forces his way into his mouth.His hands tangle into the thick, wet strands at the nape of his neck.Frank's fingers press into the skin at Patrick's waist, through the fabric of his t-shirt.The front is slowly soaking through, Frank still slippery from his dip in the pond, making Patrick shiver pleasantly.
A moment later, there's a dull crack, and both men jump apart.They peer over the edge of the railing, plastic scattered across the alley and gleaming up at them.Frank gapes at Patrick, who says, dumbly, "I dropped my phone."
# # #
When Patrick wakes up, he's surrounded by books.And clothing.He blinks, eyes blurred from sleep, head pounding. _Where the fuck --_
Frank is asleep next to him.
Naked.
Patrick tries to shift away without flailing and causing a scene, because, hey, naked boy next to him usually leads to at least minor freak outs, and fuck, where is his phone he needs to call Pete rightthefucknow and shit shit shit shit.Needless to say, Patrick ends up kneeing Frank in the side, knocking him off the bed (which Patrick honestly didn't even think he _had_ ) and onto the floor.
"Good morning to you, too," he groans, pulling himself upright at the edge of the bed.Patrick just stares at him. "Do you want some coffee?I'm gonna make some."So he gets up all the way, clumsily grabbing his glasses and shoving them on, ambling to the kitchenette.Naked.
Patrick just stares.
"How do you like it?" Frank asks, pulling sugar and creamer from their respective places. "Black?Cream?Sugar?Both?"He turns to his guest, eyebrows raised expectantly."Patrick?"
"Did we have sex?" Patrick gushes, wanting to stab himself between the eyes as soon as it's out.
Frank stills for a beat, considering the question.Then he grins, sudden and startling, making Patrick's heart pound wildly. "Are you joking?"His face falls instantly. "You're not joking.Well, this is awkward."
And he knows what that means.They _did,_ oh god, how could Patrick be so stupid?While he's busy mentally berating himself for his transgressions, Frank pads over and sits on the bed beside him.He places a hand firmly on Patrick's, frowning a little at the way it makes him twitch.
"Patrick.I... I'm sorry.I took advantage, and that was wrong, clearly this is bothering you, and -- "
" _You_ took advantage?"
Frank blushes, a beautiful, bashful thing that gives Patrick this sudden urge to wrap his arms around him and squeeze until neither of them can breathe anymore. "Well, why do you think I took you with me last night?"He smiles, shaking his head.Bits of hair fall into his eyes. "I, you know, like you.I wanted to have sex with you.I guess I thought you felt the same."
Patrick sputters out some nonsense, probably not even real words.His head spins. |
74c69980640e48da9ce0d7c68563244e | ['8f6e435771d5439ab85bb9322c560338'] | _Ginger—you’re killing me gorgeous. You should lighten up._ A friendly hand pats the shoulder Dana doesn’t have her chin on. When did Scott get so close? The champagne from the conference is kicking in and the room’s already a little hazy; feels like someone switched up the coding on the Verocitor Sim on them. Kobayashi Maru _,_ whispers a voice in Dana’s mind. Tahnee smiles. Her fingers are curled around Dana’s hip and it’s not to anchor Dana. They smell Scott’s breath; his cologne. No mint this time: it’s all cedar and spice, and something like smoke. Wraps around them, churns through the sweat and desire pouring off the dance floor.
_Here,_ he says. _This’ll sort you out._ The flagship cocktail is a Gallowtail: Curacao and Galliano and something else with a kick like a quarterhorse. He hands them two. _Better, right?_
Tahnee makes that smacking sound in the back of her mouth the dog used to when she got a mouthful of talcum powder as payback for chewing bathroom supplies. Tahnee slides the glass onto the bar like something tainted. It’s a little bitter for Dana’s taste too.
Scott’s laughing.
Dana asks, _If you’re so adult, what are you drinking?_ and he toasts them with the tumbler, bending just far enough out of the way that Tahnee has to brush against his chest to lean past him to order (alcoholic) ginger beer.
_Bourbon._
He’s not the type to pull of ‘innocent’ well. They let it slide anyway. Hard not to: the beers taste like free peach slices and watching Kurago’s decal dry. Like the sting of the fresh tattoos, the might to kill monsters, and summers dangling burnt feet in the dam.
Scott drifts away to chat up a bar bunny. The twins clink bottles, then foreheads; Tahnee’s laughing that they hit too hard before Dana even swallows. A stinging in Dana’s forehead matches a red patch on Tahnee’s. And then—
Tahnee’s letting a Laotian model coax her into the crush. Gone before Dana can grab her arm. Missing the fact that there’s a _Jessop_ across the room.
Was it always so hot in here? Scott’s gone AWOL. Tahnee’s dancing. Dana needs to go over to the Jessop before she loses all nerve, and Tahnee’ll hit her later because _Duc Jessop, you cow(!)_ but Tahnee’s thigh to neck with her model, and Dana’s—
_Can I get another one of these? Maybe with a tequila chaser?_
. . .
( _You are nineteen, and Scott introduces you to the other face from The Kowloon Photo –_ this is my big bro, Herc; he keeps me out of trouble—right, mate? – _and you don’t realise yet that the look on Ranger Hansen’s face is not scepticism.)_
. . .
Duc Jessop is suave. Charming, but _suave_. Japanese-Canadian. Taller than Dana. Oddly sleepy eyes. Handsome. Veeeery handsome. She tells someone that later, dead serious, and their laugh is ripe with cherries and brandy. Maybe it’s Kaori’s. Kaori: willowy and short, with long glossy hair in a high ponytail and a smile like a floodlight. Charmingly solid upper arms. Smells like talcum powder and sunshine.
Dana definitely tells Duc that later, in between arguing the finer points of triple-barrel joints and retractable versus fixed blades. _His_ laughter thuds in her chest like the music bassline but it doesn’t smell like cherries. He doesn’t want to dance, but Kaori does.
Tahnee’s back. Scott’s back. He doesn’t look drunk in the flashing lights but:
_Aaaay, D2C2! You having fun yet, babe?_
His torso crowds Dana’s space like they’re sparring. He smells more strongly now too: aftershave and bourbon. Nicotine. Does Herc know Scott smokes? Also: _Are you high?_ She pulls him close by a handful of unbuttoned collar.
His pupils are huge and his movements like taffy. _Are you asking me to dance? Oh, there’s the other one. Hi, Tahnee. Are_ you _having fun yet?_
Tahnee, at Dana’s elbow, finds this hilarious. Kaori rolls her eyes and puts her back up against an Indy 500 driver. Tahnee wants a drink. She’s dragging Dana, and Dana’s dragging Scott and somehow they make it back to the bar. The bunnies seem amused; their grinning faces contorting like putty. Are they supposed to do that? Tahnee’s chin rests on Dana’s shoulder. Dana’s feeling pretty taffy-ish and tactile herself. She drapes an arm around Tahnee’s waist and leans flush against her co-pilot. They should slow down. They should—drink water or something. Fuck. Something adult. What do adults do in this situation?
_Adults drink the free alcohol and get buckwild,_ Scott says, shoving another two Gallowtails into their hands. The lights now are teal and hazard orange, strobing with the bass. Tahnee’s grimace looks surreal. Scott laughs. _Don’t pull that face. Drink. And in answer to your question,_ he says as they drink, _I didn’t do anything yet._
These Gallowtails are sweeter. More vanilla; less talcum. Grinning, Scott takes Dana’s glass and bumps her back to the writhing crowd. _Now go have fun. That’s an order, Ranger._
Someone slides her arm around their neck. Bodies press in. The music swells and rolls, an ocean in the dark. There’s a hand on her waist. Someone’s chest against her back. Not male. A forest of hands sway overhead in the electric gloom like kelp. It feels like she drowning. Kaori’s in front of her. Dancing. (Is that what this is?) More dancing. More shots. Kaori’s laughing and Dana tries to work out why she knows it tastes like cherries but her mind is so fuzzy. Did Duc tell her? | f210a11f046e4dd5809950000e00e2e0 | ['8f6e435771d5439ab85bb9322c560338'] | _You’re eighteen, and you’ve accepted that the footage from Venator’s Conn-Pod footage will never be released to the public. You just don’t understand how you can be family and still count as ‘public’._
… …
Unnerved by Scarada the UN elect to move their Australian assets south ahead of schedule. The Sydney Shatterdome is not complete. It’s functional by now, it’s just not finished. Still. The change unsettles a few feathers. While there’s some surreptitious fistbumping going on under the triplets’ bit of the table, the twins don’t think it’s a coincidence that all of the senior command crews sequester themselves individually after the Rangers are dismissed from the conference room.
Lucky is going, as is Nomad. Kurago, Krieger informs them through the vid-screen is too. _Pack your bags, Rangers. You’re shipping out._
Back to Sydney.
Dana’s distracted and one of the triplets jams his knuckle into a nerve cluster that leaves her sick and gasping on the mat. This triplet has the smoothest hairline and a pale line of an oven burn across one forearm: Cheung.
If they die in the field this will be the last time the Colliers set eyes on a Wei. From her stretch at the edge of the mat Tahnee lightly informs Cheung that Dana would consider this a great shame, but even moreso if she suffocates in the Kwoon, and to please stop kneeling on her twin’s throat.
Cheung laughs, shifts his weight. The red doesn’t fade from Dana’s face when he rocks back onto his heels. The twins’ Mando is nowhere near conversational but she gets the gist when he asks dispassionately if she’s going to be sick.
She might be. There’s an unpleasant pulsing in her solar plexus from the knuckle-strike he landed before the takedown. A shadow of a grin she might be imagining wavers at the corner of his mouth; in English he advises her to wait a few seconds and then roll onto her back. He too would consider it a shame if this was the last time she ever laid eyes on his pretty face. He much prefers them to the Hansens. (Not that that’s saying much.) Try a deep breath, he suggests. Like everything, he says this too will pass.
The Jaegers are transferred by aircraft carrier—three of them in a line. The most heavily-armoured ducks the twins have ever seen.
They stand atop the Shatterdome to watch the procession pull out to sea, feeling their insides stretch like holding onto each others’ wrists and spinning too fast. They should be travelling with her.
There’s a taut expression on Hansen-the-Elder’s face as they all stack into a Lear that says maybe they’re not alone in feeling that way, but Herc’s wrapped up in getting Chuck to turn off his tablet for take-off and Scott’s pulled his cap down and gone to sleep.
In Sydney K-Sci, Air Support and Trooper facilities are separate. They can no longer ‘accidentally’ wander into the Air squadron’s breakrooms. Tahnee seems a little put out by this. (Though she gets around it: some days she wanders in before dinner with helmet hair or a new bar trick, and Dana now knows Bo smells like Axe and tugs his earlobe when frustrated, though Tahnee doesn’t know what he tastes like.) But this ‘dome is slick—smaller. More compact, tucked up on a headland where a beach nobody really uses anymore has been half-swallowed by steel and concrete, and only diehard surfers brave the blue at daybreak to watch Troopers and Rangers run sand laps.
At the other end of the day, if they sit on the Staging Area roof in the gathering dusk they can watch the landing lights of planes angle low to land in the west. There are less of those than there used to be.
It’s the first of April and instead of doing paperwork they’re watching the opening minutes of a _Hot Jaeger Twins XXX_ lookalike video. It’s supposed to be a joke, forwarded to them by a friend from the Academy. April Fools. ( _You’re public domain now, chicas! Rule 34: roll with it._ ) And it kind of _is_ funny (Tahnee doesn’t make those noises; Dana isn’t pierced there).
But there’s something chilling about it too. Something voyeuristic, exploitative. It’s the feeling of watching a thousand strangers thousands of kilometres away mourn for their mother, and the vitriol their father spewed at them like a plasma caster when they told him so.
It’s a fork frozen halfway to Sorvino’s mouth; Captain-Father staring like he’s just remembered he _has_ daughters; the stinging in their eyes when they don’t cry at being called juvenile little shits _do you think this is optional? This is part of the gig, goes with the territory_. They know where the door is, or strap that shit down and Ranger on. Transmission ends _._
… …
_You’re seventeen, and you have a note in your file: personable but private. The psychologists tell you this will hinder the Drift. You try harder._
… …
_Ya dad’ll kill you,_ Sorvino says idly, leafing from one design to the next. There are two: Dana’s is gears, pinions, flys; Tahnee’s is circuitry, transducers, resistors. At six feet away both resolve to solid black.
_You’re not our dad,_ Dana reminds him.
_I’m not going to kill you either._ He pushes up from the Rec Room’s metal table with a sigh but there’s a bounce to his step as he heads for the door and he smooths his moustache in a way they haven’t seen since Kodiak. _All right, chickadees, let’s go get a car._
They sit on the roof of the Staging Area at dusk with stinging biceps, but this time they aren’t watching the planes that flee. Instead they watch an ant-size silhouette running laps on the broader north beach where the Rangers do in the morning:
Chuck raging against his own unphysicality where his father isn’t there to judge him. |
f52ffa56f91541469d1a0c77fb65e436 | ['8f7fe19c2a884e2bbdbca4901d42549f'] |
IDGAF
**Author's Note:**
> For Rinharuweek day 2! Which I totally slept through~ haha. This idea was brought about the song IDGAF by watsky. Though really, I heard the song from DMMD expectations vs reality youtube video ; u ; so much laughs guys <3 This will be multi chaptered! It's not going to be just fluff and humor and cotton candy in the future! muwahahaha XD Anyway enough of that rambling :) Thanks for reading! (Warning: not betad like mostly everything else I write /sob)
Rin Matsuoka, 27 years old. Studied in the prestigious Samezuka School of Law. Licenced lawyer. Currently applying for a job.
Rin checks his appearance at the mirror. His stylish black suit, accompanied by his red checkered necktie and his slicked up hair were in perfect shape. Not to mention his looks were perfect from the start anyway. Incredibly smart, handsome face and to die for body, that was Rin Matsuoka. He smugly smirks at his reflection. Well what can you do, he certainly was under the rain when God showered blessings.
Going back into the receiving area, he surveys all his forms. Everything is complete and he is in top form. The other occupants in the room seem pretty decent too, but Rin’s sure he’s got the job. Overflowing confidence was a trait in his resume, along with his star studded credentials.
The interview moves along, and he answers all of their questions with authority, adding some of his unique cheekiness and charm too. The clients happily approve of him, and by the next day, he was made private attorney of the Nanase Industries Corp., or particularly, the CEO Mr. Nanase’s private lawyer.
One thing bothered him though. In his interview, they asked him, “Will you be willing to do anything for Mr. Nanase if he asked you?” Not many interviews had a question like that, but he agreed anyway, as long as it was in terms with the law. Soon enough, his job became busy and he pushed the thought away to the back of his mind.
Six months passed in a breeze, and he found Mr. Nanase as a kind, fun man. He was one of the best bosses he’d ever had. And weirdly enough, Mr. Nanase dotes on him like he would a son. Well actually, he does have one but never really talks about him, and Rin has never seen the heir to Nanase Industries Corp. as well. Until that faithful day…
“Matsuoka-kun” The electronic voice of Mr. Nanase sounds through the receiver. Not uncommon, but somehow, there was something off about it. “I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Of course, sir. Anything for you.” Rin says as he stands up to survey the view from his 63rd floor office suite. No job he can’t handle really.
“You know you’re the only one I trust nowadays.” Mr. Nanase starts. “And I need you to take care of something most important to me.”
Rin gulps. Wow, something really important to the boss? Rin already handles most of his legal matters like his property and business deals but what else could he be talking about?
“Yes sir, you can count on me.” He answers curtly.
“Matsuoka-kun” a sigh, “I need you to take care of my son for a few months.”
“Eh?”
And that’s how he ended up in the Nanase household as their “live in” lawyer. Rin sighs as he enters the gates to the grandiose Japanese style home. ‘It can’t be that hard of a job… right? Taking care of this… Nanase Haruka…’
Rin figures that the Nanase heir would be some sort of hikikomori, being that he’d never seen him, and how his father was too wary of him. Slowly, he enters the house and is surprised to see that there weren’t any maids.
“Nanase-san?” he says, carefully making his way into the house. As he makes his way into the living room, he smells something cooking. ‘Nanase-san must be having his lunch…’ He thinks as he makes his way to the source of the smell.
“Nanase-sa--- eeeeh?” Rin rounds the corner and is surprised by what he sees. In the kitchen was a man cooking something like grilled fish. What’s surprising is that he’s only wearing an apron, or was that, are those… jammers!? Rin blinks in astonishment.
“Good morning, you must be Matsuoka-san.” The man in the apron faces him and he discovers bright blue eyes. ‘Ah, Mr. Nanase’s son’ He automatically thinks.
“G-good morning, sir.” Rin stutters, so unlike him. It must be the half naked-apron. “As you may have been informed, I’m your family’s personal lawyer and your father asked me to—“
“I don’t need you.” The Nanase-heir turns his back to the lawyer and resumes cooking.
“Umm, excuse me?”
“I said, I don’t need you. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” Rin’s eyebrow shoots up.
“Sorry, but your father specifically told me to take care of you while he’s gone.” Rin folds his arms. “And with that, I am staying here and will be taking care of you.”
The dark-haired man puts a plate of perfectly grilled mackerel on the table and sighs. He looks straight at Rin. “What makes you think you’re so qualified?”
Rin smirks. “Well, let me tell you about my GPA, I’ve got 4 straight As and –“ He gets cut off by a loud sigh. “Then, how about my resume? I’m going to be informal about this and you won’t believe how insane it is---“ Another sigh, and Rin’s eyebrows twitch. “I have to tell you I graduated from the Law school of Samezuka---“ Another sigh and Rin feels a vein twitch.
“Matsuoka-san” Haruka starts. “I don’t give a fuck.”
Rin’s eyes widen at the reply and moves forward to look at Haruka straight in the eye. “What did you say, young master?” He knows Haruka is his boss’ son, but that doesn’t matter now. His veins have popped. | 352ec358de394122ac5e67e0ba910803 | ['8f7fe19c2a884e2bbdbca4901d42549f'] | “Sorry about that… I mean, drugging you and everything.” He shrugs, still positioned near the entrance of the room. “I… I did tell you, you can’t leave yet.” He looks at red orbs. “Really, I’m sorry Rin.”
Makoto says the last line like he meant it. _Sorry for doing this, for locking you up, for keeping you away from Haru, from crushing your dreams._ He’d like to say sorry a thousand times over, but it would still be meaningless. Because he wouldn’t exactly let him go just because of that.
Rin then barks out, “Mako!”, then a silent growl “How could you? _How dare you_?” Rin is sitting on his bed, feet dangling, like he doesn’t care to stand. Though he probably tried walking as some blood marks were seeping out his bandaged wound, and Makoto notes that he has to change the bandages soon.
“Sorry… I’m really sorry, Rin.” Makoto says out weakly.
“Mako!” Rin screams, his voice shrill with anger, and Makoto flinches, eyes downcast. He can’t bring himself to look at Rin’s eyes.
Rin’s voice echoes in the silence of the room, almost like a sob. “Why would you do this?”
Makoto looks at Rin’s face, and can’t look away from the sight. His eyes are glassy and red, blood shot, and that look… It wasn’t wonder, it wasn’t fear, it wasn’t anger. It was pure disappointment. And at that moment, fear anchors itself unto Makoto, the fear of rejection and shame.
“I… I…” Makoto starts to answer. In his heart, he’s sure. He knows his reason for doing this, but his mind tells him otherwise. He knows he’s wrong. Rin is his friend. But he had to do it. He had to.
“It’s for Haru.” Makoto says, unwavering.
Rin gawks at him, his dried up tears, itching at his cheeks. ‘For Haru?’
“How the hell is locking me up for Haru!?” Rin bursts out.
Makoto glares at Rin. “It’s to keep you away from him for a while. To make him forget about you.”
Rin throws him a pillow, but it barely reaches his feet. “And what is that supposed to mean!?” The red head scowls.
Makoto sighs, gripping at the tray, “Haru is… I have to have him in my life Rin. I… I can’t give him to you. I need him.”
There’s a heavy pause, before it gets horribly disrupted by Rin’s maniacal laughter.
“You’re telling me you did all this? Kidnap me, imprison me here for days, fucking chaining me up and not letting me leave for my damn swimming school… You’re telling me you did all this for a stupid little childhood crush?” Rin laughs out. “Makoto… you sick, sick bastard.”
Makoto furrows his brow, not replying to Rin’s comments, but instead moves forward, placing the tray at the desk near Rin’s bed. He looks down at the tray, unknowingly, some soup from the kimchi ramen had spilled. He frowns.
He knows he’s at a close enough distance to the still laughing red head that it’s dangerous, but he keeps his stance anyway. Rin can be violent, but Makoto knows he can hold his ground. He clutches at his pocket, making sure the syringe is intact. He doesn’t really want to drug Rin again, but in cases of emergencies, it’s his defensive weapon.
“You should eat, Rin. I prepared kimchi ramen for you today. My next door neighbour had some-“ He gets cut off by the red head’s guffaw.
“Look at you, Mako! You even prepared something that I like! Kimchi for heaven’s sakes! You actually fucking prepared something that I like even though you keep me locked up in this shit hole! You’re the best Mako-chan! Applause for you!”
Makoto doesn’t reply again, but then suddenly something touches his crotch. In surprise, he reflexively slaps away at it, just noticing it was Rin’s uninjured foot.
“Oh, feisty feisty.” Rin answers, his red, swollen eyes, look at Makoto with a dark glint, his voice spilling venom. Rin smiles, showing his shark-like teeth menacingly, and Makoto is filled with dread.
“You know Makoto…” Rin starts. “Haru is actually a real cockslut. He just loves that part down there” He eyes Makoto’s crotch with a smirk, “he just loves eating it up, specially mine.” Makoto flinches, he really doesn’t want to hear any more of this. “Oh, yeah, Haru really likes cock, bouncing on it on his tight little ass“ Makoto moves away, he needs to get out of here.
“But hey, you know what’s funny Makoto?” Rin laughs. “You did all this, but guess what? You’ll never have him.”
The room feels eerily silent despite Rin’s talking, and Makoto can’t help but clench his fist. He knows he has to go and leave the room, but somehow, his feet aren’t moving. Somehow they feel like they’re glued to the floor, as if the nonsense Rin’s spouting is holding him down and he’s falling deep like he’s trapped in quicksand. And he knows exactly why.
“You’ll never have him, Mako-chan! He’s never been interested in you and never will be!” Rin shouts at him, mocking.
‘Makoto, thank you for always being there for me.’
‘You’ll always be my best friend.’
‘I couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.’
‘We’ll always stay as best friends, ok?’
A flood of memories rush past Makoto and he knows exactly what Rin means. Haru has always thought of him as a friend. And only that. A friend. And he knows, somewhere deep in him, that Haru probably will never see him as a man. As a lover.
But that will change soon.
“I’ll show you Rin.” Makoto snaps back, and Rin stops talking in surprise. Makoto moves towards Rin in a frightening pace, knocking the red head back into the mattress. The taller brunette straddles him forcefully, locking Rin’s legs with his thighs. Rin whimpers, trying to push him off, but Makoto is at an advantage and gathers his hands, pinning them above his head. |
c13289b1e54a47669ed2a16780fb85a9 | ['8f99752c04734df0b56b65a45f69acb7'] | _"We finally did it Sunny, after so many tries, injuries, failure, distance, here we are, about to be champions of the word again and we're finally doing it together babe"_
Mario smiled and Marco just felt so overwhelmed, he was so beautiful and he was finally getting to be with him so happily, Mario could light up the darkest of places with that smile, he was so perfect, and most importantly, he was his, completely his again.
_"Marco I love you, I can't believe we are finally playing with the national team together and we're winning and I just couldn't be more excited!"_ Mario was beaming and it made Marco laugh his beautiful laugh.
_"Come on sunny let's get showered and we'll end this when we get to the hotel room"_ Marco said with a wink as he slid off his shirt and smirked when he noticed his boyfriend checking him out and groaning, he threw his sweaty shirt at Mario's face.
After they had all cleaned up they climbed in the bus and headed to the hotel, there everyone was too tired to hang around on the lobby or at the bar, everyone just headed straight to their rooms because they knew they would need rest for the training that would come the next few days for them, but Mario and Marco has slightly different plans.
As soon as Mario closed the door Marco grabbed him by his collar and dragged him all the way to the bed where he climbed on top of him, they were making out and grinding against each other until their pants felt way to tight, they took of their shirts and pants staying in briefs only, Marco was leaving kisses all over Mario's body and Mario couldn't stop moaning.
_Marco then thought, that was the sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life, he'd die happy listening to that sound, oh what a time to be alive._
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Yayy happy ending for Gotzeus because they are the major OTP, sorry I really don't know how to write smut so that's all I could do! Let me know what you think xo
**Author's Note:**
> Well that is it for this chapter, hope you enjoyed this one even if it hurts, let me know what your thought are.
> Next chapter will be posted tomorrow. | 12df3668427f407ca7f1d16c502e8420 | ['8f99752c04734df0b56b65a45f69acb7'] | _"Look Marco, I think what you should do is wait, if he calls again later today it's because he really meant to call and if he doesn't maybe you should just leave it."_ suggested Auba who was the only one being sort of rational, he had been the one to live that awful breakup with Marco, he saw how Marco self destructed in every possible way and got his self confidence broken down and it was Auba who had to try and pick up his best friend's pieces and it was not so long ago that he actually got to "fix" Marco. So in a way he was afraid of what Mario wanted to do coming back into his friend's life, because he honestly thought that Marco wouldn't be able to handle what he already went through twice.
_"But what if he did mean to call but now decides not to bother you again since you didn't reply? He probably thought you didn't want to hear from him ever again and now won't call back!"_ said a more desperate Erik who clearly didn't want to give up on gotzeus, Auba didn't blame him, he doesn't think Erik really knows all the train wreck that went on between those two, and he was younger, with a lot of hope in love but right now he wasn't so sure that the best thing for Marco would be empty hope.
_"Yeah Erik, sure that could have happened but what if it didn't? If Mario really is dying to talk to Marco again then he'll call again, he should leave his pride aside and dial and dial and dial a hundred times if necessary if it means he'll talk to Marco, he should put in work, so if he can't handle a missed call it's not worth it"_ Auba talked firmly, indirectly telling Erik to shut up and leave it already, then he gave a look to Marco to see if he understood and Marco only nodded back to him.
_"Thanks Pierre, but then you two are not leaving me alone at least until later tomorrow, or until he calls again... If he does..."_ Marco sighed and Erik and Pierre went to his side to hug him and then started browsing for movies and discussing what food to order to take his mind a bit off the whole Mario thing.
*~*~*~*~*
Mario was nervous so so nervous, he had already tried calling once and he got no reply just a stupid voicemail that wasn't even Marco's voice just a default lady's voice. He was pacing around, debating wether or not he should call again, it had been some time already since he last called.
_"Mario for fuck's sake, get a grip and call him again, you can't lose anymore than you're already losing.."_ said Robert who had been the one to basically force Mario to call Marco the first time.
Robert had always been a great friend of Mario but when they were both in Bayern they became best friends, he was the only one he really knew aside from the guys from the German national team, but Robert was his closest friend of all, and he was the only one who could understand the whole deal with Marco, when the three of them had been together back in Dortmund, Robert lived their relationship when it was at its best stage, they were so happy together and inseparable, and then he was also the one who had to deal with Mario after he had left.
Mario was strange, when he explained the whole story to Robert he couldn't understand why he had given up on his relationship, if he loved Marco why did Mario fear he would end up being unfaithful? Robert thought it was absurd and stupid in the beginning, he thought that he was just causing so much unnecessary hurt everywhere. But as he started spending more and more time with Mario he understood, he was a complicated being who didn't quite get himself at all. He watched Mario try to forget Marco, try so hard, Mario drank like there was no tomorrow, he slept around like his life depended on it, he dated so many models, celebrities, never getting anything from anyone.
He couldn't get over Marco, he needed him by his side. Things had gotten especially bad for Mario after he got injured, he stopped playing so good, he stopped going into the field as often, he spent most of his time in the bank and that made him miserable, it didn't only make Mario miss playing and being a team's golden boy, he missed being Dortmund's golden boy, along with another one who he chose to leave behind. Mario had been wrong, when he got home fucked up he did wish someone was waiting for him, and he did wish that all that time he spent alone he could be spending it skyping a certain someone even if he didn't get to see him, at least he'd have something worth looking forward to.
It was Robert who first noticed how miserable Mario had been the past months, and it took him a long time and a lot of insisting for Mario to finally spill his feelings to him after a night of drinking when the boy couldn't take it anymore. Robert had been there for him and had consoled him and when Mario was sober was when he proposed the idea for Mario to call him again. But Mario was full of doubts and now even more since Marco didn't pick up at the first call. |
3c8d4f3f0c26406f83d256779341e6b9 | ['8fa7af14f1c04973a935e362a87ac5f3'] | I let instinct lead me and silently stalk toward my prey. I have to be very careful. For all the professional weaponry on hand, this guy acts like a rank amateur. That fact alone makes his actions extremely difficult to predict. The pacing suddenly stops and I freeze, becoming as still as my spirit guide just before the killing strike is delivered. I hear the perp heading my way so I glide up the next aisle to go around him. His heartbeat is pounding a frantic pace making it easy for me to keep track of his location. I can also hear my Guide's heart behind the split doors. Amazingly, Blair is staying put, at least for now.
The shooter suddenly stops. His heart rate shoots up even higher as he remains quiet, motionless. Something has this guy spooked. I know he didn't hear Blair or me, however, he's suddenly suspicious. With a silent move, I'm around the end of the next aisle, trying to keep an ear on the suspect as I work myself closer. I have to get him subdued before he can bring that gun up and fire it. _Protect the Guide._
_Chink, chink, chink. Chink, chink, chink._
"Goddamn cops! Why`re you still here? I don't want you here!"
I drop into a tight crouch as more shots ring out, violently echoing through the store. I grab my head and hope the ringing in my ears will ease quickly as I dial my hearing slightly below normal. The perp screams more obscenities and strafes the barricade of cars again. Neither his tirade nor his actions make sense to me, which in my mind makes this guy even more dangerous to deal with.
As if he could read my thoughts, the shooter spins wildly around, and strafes the inside of the store. I dodge back quickly, sinking down into a deep crouch to make as small a target as possible. _My Guide!_ I can't tell if the shots angled toward Blair's location from here. Frantic heartbeats echo and re-echo in my head, confusing as my control slips because of my sudden building apprehension for my friend. A faint scraping sound seems to echo in the deafening silence, then I hear a low, barely audible thump from the back room.
No, no, no... Please, let that sound have only been heard by me? I glance round the end of the aisle and see the perp, gun raised as he advances on the back room, his movements stiff, but determined. A low, inaudible growl vibrates through me at the sight of this... this _human_ stalking my Guide. I'm moving before I even think about it, an inhuman roar of rage spilling out of me as my prey pops off another round across the back wall, including the double doors. I hear a suppressed groan of pain escape Blair seconds later.
I give up silent movement for more speed and burst into the open area next to the cash register, tackling my target as he spins to meet my threat. The perp and I both hit the ground, but he rolls away before I can secure him. Rolling to my knees, I reach out and grab the back of his jacket. He breaks my grip and throws a solid punch to my side, trying to drive me back. Both of us quickly regain our footing. I lash out with a quick right cross, catching him on his jaw solidly. When he stumbles back in reaction, I make a quick grab for the rifle and miss. The perp quickly recovers and braces his legs, then snarls a string of cuss words at me as he aims the machine gun at my chest. A swift step forward and a burst of bullets thunders over my shoulder, crossing the ceiling of the store as I sweep his gun arm upward. The bullets pulverize what's left of the lighting fixtures, raining small fragments down on both of us. I ignore the debris and immediately follow through with a stiff forearm punch to the solar plexus that drops my opponent to his knees, the air knocked out of him momentarily. A solid knee under the chin quickly puts the shooter down on his back, gasping. I kick the machine gun loose and watch it skid across the linoleum floor until it slides partially under the shelving on the far wall.
I quickly glance around the room, noting the slender metal pole that anchors the end of the counter that houses the register. It's length runs from the floor through the broken ceiling into the bones of the building, serving as one of several support beams located in this structure. Handcuffs go round one scrawny wrist, then I grab the front of the field jacket and drag my prisoner to the end of the counter. Pulling his loose hand beyond the pole, I snap the open cuff closed, securing the oblivious man. The perp is slow to wake, moving sluggishly as I quickly search him for more weapons. I pull a knife Jim Bowie would have been proud of from a sheath down one boot, a .45 caliber Colt pistol and several clips loaded for the M-16 from different pockets on his jacket. Reaching around the guy, I jerk a loaded Glock 9mm from a waist holster hidden in the small of his back. Just how many times did he think he needed to shoot this woman? | 54f8dd55fe2346c1b693ad9a6145ea0d | ['8fa7af14f1c04973a935e362a87ac5f3'] | "Me!?" I take a deep breath. Stay calm, Ellison. I know he's just as protective about me as I am of him, though I won't admit it aloud. "Yeah. What about you, Chief?"
"I'm okay, Jim." The low sounds of pain can be heard around us, drawing my Guide's attention. "We have to help, Jim." I realize that I can't stall the inevitable. I have to let him be himself.
"Come on, then. Let's see what can be done." I help my partner out and we move around the rear of the truck. Simon is kneeling beside someone I don't recognize, pressing a makeshift tourniquet to the man's leg as Richards, a detective out of Robbery ties a bandage around my Captain's left biceps.
"Simon? You all right?" Blair asks, concerned as we kneel down near our friend.
"Yeah, though it's just damn lucky I wasn't killed. Collins here took a hit." Simon eases closer to me, letting Blair slip past to check on the downed detective. "Thanks for the warning, Jim," Simon quietly acknowledges. I nod slightly in response, glad my friend wasn't badly hurt - this time. As things momentarily quiet down, the sounds of pain become more distinct along the barricade. Glancing at me, Simon mutters pointedly, "I wish that damn ambulance would get here!"
I take the hint and let my hearing course out, checking for our medical assistance. I push through the transit noise that is building up several blocks away from our location. I can tell that traffic has ground to a standstill on the connecting roads leading to our location. Standard procedure would have included traffic control setting up detours to insure civilians stay out of harms way. I wish this time they hadn't been quite so quick on the draw since it now means that no one is getting through to us by roadway. _Where is that ambulance?_
The horns and discord make me frown as I work past them, listening for the ambulance that should be heading this way. "Jim, don't focus so hard. Remember the siren is going to be blaring. Be ready to pull back if necessary," Blair mutters sentinel soft. I do as suggested and just in time too. The shrill shriek hits my ears like a dog whistle, making me wince in pain. I pull back with a pained sigh, needing to escape from the noise before I head into a world class migraine, or worse, a zone-out.
"You okay, Jim?" The lyrical voice that I've come to depend on blankets me, pulling me back from a painful sensory spike.
"Yeah." I glance down the line of cars, noting that nearly one quarter of the cops pinned down by the suspect are injured. It's obvious that Simon has made the same observation. He motions me back behind my truck and moves to follow me. Blair's throws a quick glance at Simon's retreating back before he returns his attention to the young detective he's assisting. I expect Blair will be joining us as soon as he's finished what medical aid is possible with the limited supplies on hand.
"What did you hear, Jim?" Simon sort of groans his question as he settles against the truck bumper, supporting his arm carefully against his side.
"Traffic is at a standstill. Any support expected isn't going to get here anytime soon." Blair slips in to crouch beside me. "The ambulance is stuck some distance away. It's going to be a long while before it arrives."
"What about SWAT?" Blair asks. "Did you hear anything of them, Jim?"
"Nothing. If they're trying to get to us by vehicle, it's not going to happen." I glance over the area with a helicopter assault in mind. "You had better warn SWAT not to try it by helicopter, Simon. The suspect," I state with a slight nod toward the store, "has a unobstructed shot across this lot. Anyone dropping in will be a clear target."
Simon sighs despondently. "Are you sure, Jim?"
"Even considering the accuracy he's shooting with, that gun evens the odds in his favor."
"All right." Simon looks down the line. I know he's worried about everyone getting out of this situation alive. "Do you think there's a way this guy can be taken down safely?" Simon finally asks. "We're getting cut to pieces here. Heaven help us if this guy thought this action through enough to have brought any protective gear with him." He glances at the cops trying to help all the wounded, then looks back at Blair and I. "Can you imagine the carnage if he has and decides to leave that store? We'll have an incident the likes none of us have ever seen before."
"The only two options I would recommend now are either wait for SWAT to arrive and have them use one of their sniper rifles..." I frown as a thought occurs to me. "You think one of these guys might be packing heavy equipment in their trunk, sir?"
"Richards!" Simon hisses, trying to stay quiet and not draw any more fire. Richards glances up, then slips behind the truck at Simon's gesture.
"Yea, Cap?"
"See if you can determine if anyone is carrying a rifle in their trunk. We need something with enough range to make an attempt to take this asshole out."
Richards gives a quick nod and moves back to his car. I watch the question work its way down the line, already pretty sure what the answer's going to be.
I turn back to Simon. "The only other option is to slip a couple of men through the back of the store and take him that way." I feel Blair shudder slightly as I say this. I'm sure he knows which option is going to be taken and by whom. I'm also sure my Guide is going to insist he go along, whether I want him to or not. |
5c8f3e5aaa14424e9d3a896f3fa32f57 | ['8fb12802012f4094ab3a56da7b20237d'] | That’s why it came as something of a shock when Kirishima realized one evening just how far they had gone from what had initially been an innocent kiss to... practically straddling Bakugou, one of his legs between the other’s with a warm hand halfway up the back of his shirt. In what seemed like no time at all, he could feel himself getting heated, could feel the pull of the desire as their lips moved together, hands scrambling a bit for even just a brief brushing of skin on skin. It pulled at him like never before, and... he didn’t know if he wanted it to. Didn’t know if he was ready for this. But at the same time he wanted it _so much_ …
Before he could let himself get too carried away, he broke their kiss if only by a hair. “Should… should we stop?” he mumbled.
“Do you _wanna_ stop?” Bakugou asked, hushed and a little breathless.
“...well, no,” Kirishima said, opening his eyes and lifting his head enough to see the other clearly. “But… are you sayin’ you wanna, y’know…” He paused to swallow around the lump in his throat. “...go all the way?”
That was met with an amused albeit sarcastic huff. “You’re like a fucking middle schooler,” Bakugou muttered.
“Sorry!” Kirishima practically squeaked, sitting up even more. “I’ve never done this before!”
Bakugou’s face was unreadable as he gazed up at the other, still hovering hesitantly above him. “...I dunno. D’you?”
The stupid lump seemed to get bigger with every word between them, forcing Kirishima to try and swallow it down and speak around it. “I dunno,” he repeated. “I mean, ‘m not really ready for that yet but like, I don’t wanna get all… well, y’know…” Shit, he really _did_ talk like a middle schooler… “...and then just stop outta nowhere.”
“Then don’t.”
Bakugou said it so matter-of-factly that it took Kirishima off guard. He seemed so freakin’ chill about this! It didn’t look like he was bothered at all by the fact that he’d forced Kirishima’s shirt halfway up his torso or the fact that his knee was wedged between Kirishima’s legs… “But—”
“Go as far as you’re comfortable with and if you decide you wanna stop, we stop,” Bakugou cut in.
Oh man, oh _man_ , Kirishima was pretty sure his face was gonna explode or his nose was gonna start bleeding or _something_ with how hot it was getting. “Are… are you sure?”
“Of course I’m fucking sure, idiot.” For the first time since their kiss, Bakugou’s eyes cut away from the other’s. Only then did Kirishima see the redness in his ears. He _was_ embarrassed, but somehow he was remaining so much cooler about this whole thing on the outside whereas Kirishima could hear the rushing of the blood in his head and was pretty damn sure Bakugou could feel the pounding of his heart through his back with where his hand rested against it.
“But if I do somethin’ you don’t like—”
“I’ll tell you. Same goes for you.”
Kirishima gave a small nod in response. He let Bakugou be the one to initiate the kiss this time, picking up right where they’d left off. He felt a surge of heat shoot down his body as soon as their lips made contact again and suddenly every embarrassed or fearful thought that’d been swarming around in his mind was silenced, and once again he found himself getting lost in the heat of the moment.
He… _really_ fucking liked making out with Bakugou like this. The way the other’s hands gripped at his waist or his ribs, the way he seemed so _hungry_ and desperate in the way he kissed and whimpered lightly from the back of his throat electrified every single nerve ending in Kirishima’s body. Before he knew it his hand had descended more than halfway down Bakugou’s torso and, though suddenly painfully aware of how _low_ it was, didn’t stop it until he reached the soft cotton of Bakugou’s sweatpants and a… _holy shit_ , rather large bulge right there in the front of them.
“Holy shit, you’re already—” he started to mumble against Bakugou’s lips.
“...yeah,” grumbled the other. “‘S not like I do this a lot…”
Once again Kirishima lifted his head. “So you have before?”
“No. Not really. Not with other people anyway.”
A bubble of amusement Kirishima couldn’t stop lifted from his stomach and presented itself in a giddy laugh. “Me either. But that was really fast.”
Instantly, Bakugou went on the defensive. “And? What about it?!” he hissed.
“Nothing!” defended Kirishima quickly. “I’m kinda impressed, honestly.”
“You don’t have to fucking embarrass me about it, Shitty Hair!”
“I—I’m not trying to!”
Bakugou had kept talking through Kirishima’s defense, though, going on like he hadn’t even heard him. “Is it such a fucking crime that I think you’re hot?!”
_That_ took Kirishima _way_ off guard; his eyes widened as his whole body stiffened. “Wait… you--you do?!”
Bakugou’s whole forehead seemed to be wrinkled now. “Was that not fucking obvious?!” he half-shouted.
“I-I don’t know!” Kirishima scrambled to say. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”
“Hmph…” Bakugou grunted, a hand immediately sliding up to tangle in the hair at the base of Kirishima’s skull. “Well they’re fucking stupid,” he grumbled before tugging the other’s head down and planting a harsh, heated kiss to his lips—one that left Kirishima slightly dizzy.
“How… how long’ve you thought that about me?” he managed to mumble in what was little more than a hushed voice.
“Since the first goddamn day I met you, dumbass. I just didn’t know it at the time. Now are you gonna keep going or just sit there using my dick as your hand rest?”
Despite the spinning in his head, Kirishima could only laugh into their next kiss until there was no more room to. | dc15749ad6f24a07932bcd0259d79ff5 | ['8fb12802012f4094ab3a56da7b20237d'] | And of course, he needed the warmth as well. The only time he was remotely warm was being wrapped up in three or four different blankets, wearing several layers, and holding a cup of hot tea. Even then he felt chilled.
But Eren...his body was like a furnace compared to his own. It was warm all over, particularly in the crevices such as under his arm, where Levi's shoulder was tucked, and beneath his chin where his head was tucked. He hadn't been this comfortable in ages. Hadn't felt safer or, admittedly, more loved than he did lying there, curled up next to the body of the one who loved him for reasons he still could not fathom.
And, as Eren's breathing deepened into a soft rhythm as he drifted off into a calm slumber, his eyelashes resting delicately against his smooth brown cheeks, all traces of pain and worry vacant from his features, Levi had also never felt like more of a monster. Everything he'd done in the past couple of weeks had hurt the chocolate-haired teenager in one way or another. He continued to take from him and he knew it, further damaging his spirit and injecting his own kind of poison into his life. No matter how hard he tried to prevent him more pain, he felt he only continued to inflict damage.
'If only I'd never chosen this life,' he thought. 'If only we'd met under different circumstances. If only I wasn't such a fucking demon...'
Yet in the midst of these thoughts, he was still too selfish to remove himself from Eren's arms. Back in December, he had resolved to never lay another tainted hand on the purity that was Eren Jaeger.
'How feeble was that?' he thought bitterly. 'And I say his attempts are feeble...'
Slowly, Levi let his eyelids slide closed. With concentration, he managed to match his rhythm of breathing with Eren's. It hurt, the air pulling in and out of his lungs so much slower, so much more deeply than usual. But pain was nothing new to him, and for a moment he wanted to be strong, to find a reason to give Eren to keep believing in him and assure him that maybe, just maybe, he could get through this and manage to live and remain himself. His only reason for wanting that anymore was for the very life pressed against his cold ear. Otherwise, he knew the world didn't need him, or in fact would be better off without him. Alex could stop worrying. Reiner could find a better artist. And who else did he really have? His dealer? He would find others, make better money. They could give the apartment to someone more deserving.
Eren was his sole reason, but he was more than enough. For this bright eyed, dopey, stubborn, beautiful, idiotic brat, he would keep breathing, keep his heart beating for as long as he could. He owed the brat that much, at the very least.
25. *~Chapter Twenty Four~*
"So...I have to go over to the college and finalize my dropping out..." the teen was telling the artist the next morning. Levi stared blankly into his tea cup, saying nothing. "And I have to do it today..." Eren continued cautiously. "I'm not sure how long it'll take, so I don't want to make you wait in the car, but..."
"It's fine." Levi's eyes slid closed so he wouldn't have to see Eren's expression. "I don't have enough for another hit, anyway. You can go."
"A-are you sure?" Admittedly, the teen wasn't too fond of the idea of leaving Levi alone, even for just a few hours and despite the fact that, inevitably, he was running low on his drug.
"Yeah."
Eren pursed his lips in thought. Levi was absolutely in no condition to drive, he was certain, and he decided he trusted the raven enough not to try. If anything, this could be an experiment to see how well Levi really was doing, to find out if he could handle himself on his own at all.
Eren moved to retrieve his keys, jacket and wallet from his bag. Pulling the jacket over his shoulders, he said, "Promise you won't try anything stupid?"
Slowly, Levi's lids peeled open, his tired gray orbs meeting Eren's as he considered his answer. Finally, he said, "Yeah, I promise."
A smile spread across Eren's face as he headed toward the door. Levi's breath caught in his throat at the sight.
"I'll try not to take too long, alright?"
Levi spared merely a nod before Eren exited the apartment, leaving nothing but a waft of cold air in his wake. Shakily, he set his tea cup on the coffee table and curled up in his nest of blankets. The only sound was of the television set to a channel with some crime show and the volume turned low. In the midst of the quiet, his mind went blank and his eyes unfocused.
And then he realized what he was staring at.
His car keys.
They rested in the center of the coffee table, one of them glinting in the sun shining in between the blinds. Next to them was his wallet. They beckoned him to use them. His body plead from the inside, the burning and aching and shaking suddenly amplified. Again, his mind went into overdrive. He imagined himself swiping the items off the table, heading down the stairs and hopping in his car for a quick five to ten minute drive. The brat was gone. The monster was running low. It would be so easy...
Slowly, he shed his blankets and stood up. He crossed the room and peeked down into the parking lot. Eren's car was just turning out of the exit. A left turn. His trip would go the opposite way. So easy... |
e60fe54dbe9d411b99a904d31d55e9ec | ['8fb31f8eacaa4db48804cf536e008a6f'] |
Back To You
**Author's Note:**
> No beta... Lots of grammatical mistakes~
>
> Kudos are great~
> Comments are nice~
>
> For more update, please follow : @putrihuang
_I love him and I don't want him to lose his dream either. He better lose me than to lose his dream._
_This world is his stage._
"You are pregnant," the doctor said as he looks at the paper on his hand.
"Eh?" Sungwoon couldn't believe his ears. He is pregnant.
"It's common for a healthy Omega like you," The doctor asks and flips the paper.
"But I'm not in heat," Sungwoon tries to deny it.
"Yes, but it doesn't mean you can't get pregnant if you don't wear condom or regularly take the birth control pills," the doctor explains. Sungwoon now recall the last time he had sex with Daniel and they did it a couple time without condoms. They had a hot night but never once in Sungwoon's mind it would make him pregnant. He is not in heat, the chance to get pregnant is low. Or Daniel's sperm is too strong. "It's a month old and there is not a single problem with the baby too."
Sungwoon looks at his belly as he rubs it a slowly. There is a small human being inside him. He walks outside to the hospital corridor with his hat and masker on. The manager is waiting outside comes to him and asks what happened to his body. It's every manager's nightmare to hear that his beloved idol is pregnant but Sungwoon smiles and it eases the manager's heart.
The car stops at the YMC building, they need to practice for their comeback. It's still a month to go and now all of Wanna One members are practicing their dancing. The teacher changes their dance move again. Every day, he always changes it. Sungwoon looks at them, especially locks his eyes on Daniel who standing in the middle and in the center, from this glass wall. He shines the most.
Kang Daniel is always this perfect., an alpha center chosen by National Producer of South Korea from Produce101 Season 2 show. And thanks to the show, they didn't show what are you and the audience choose the participant based on the skill. This idol world is cruel, an Omega like Sungwoon won't stand a chance in this Alpha world. They always discriminate an Omega like him but Daniel is different. He always treats Sungwoon fair and right even if Sungwoon told him that he is an Omega. Fall in love with an Alpha like Daniel is quite easy, he is charming, fun, and always smile brightly.
Sungwoon touches the glass and smiles while looking at Daniel's move. His sweat, his serious looking eyes, and his sharp move. He is really made for this and it's what Sungwoon loves about Daniel the most. Only a few Alpha will take the idol world seriously because they have the look, the skill, and the talent from they were born but not all of them sharpen the gift, the just do it half heartily. But Daniel takes this seriously, it what's made him shine the most in this stage.
Daniel looks at Sungwoon and waves to him with his bright smile. He looks so cheerful as always as the other members tries to catch their breath after their practice are over.
"Hyung!" Daniel shouts and hugs Sungwoon. His T-shirt is wet from his sweat.
"How is it?" Sungwoon asks as he pats Daniel's back.
"Tireeeeddd," Daniel complains cutely, as he continues to ask about Sungwoon. "So how is your body?"
"I'm fine," Sungwoon lies to Daniel.
"Is it because we did it too hard last night?" Daniel concerns about this and his gently act like this is what Sungwoon loves the most about him. Sungwoon chuckles a little and smiles to him.
"You need to take care of me better, stupid Niel," Sungwoon pinches Daniel's cheeks. Daniel pulls his head up with all his might as they laugh together and the other members are gathering around Sungwoon to ask about his condition.
This group, even if it's just temporary, is precious to Sungwoon and Sungwoon knows it's also meaningful for his lover, Kang Daniel, too. Wanna One will disband soon, Sungwoon has Hotshot to go home but it's the only group that made Daniel big and it's Daniel's only home with Jisung, Sungwoon, Minhyun, Jaehwan, Seongwu, Jihoon, Woojin, Jinyoung, Daehwi, and their lovely maknae, Guanlin. They share their hardship, their tears, their sweat, their food, their laugh, their worries, their story, and of course their happiness too. It's a home not a just a group.
Maybe the others have different meaning for this group but Sungwoon can't help to feel this way. He meets his lovers here and it's Sungwoon first time to meet other Alphas that are not looking at him because of his Omega status. Sungwoon really appreciate the youngster to always call him 'hyung' all the time.
And it already settled that Sungwoon will not tell anyone about his pregnancy and leave this group in silence as now he are already discussing with this company's representative and with Swing Ent. Even if it's hard and with heat argument between the two of them, it's decided already, Sungwoon needs to pay the penalty because he broke the contract and he will be kicked out of his only home, Wanna One.
Even the wall has ears. Just within a week, all of the company already heard of it, Sungwoon kicked out of Wanna One but not a word about his pregnancy. The company must hide it very well from the public and Sungwoon feels glad about it, he can make excuses he like. Like he dates with other girl group's idol or maybe that he signs illegal contract with other agency without the current agency knows about it. It could be anything, just like now. | 34a3e9a6b16248b3904058ca9ade5330 | ['8fb31f8eacaa4db48804cf536e008a6f'] | "Sorry, it's a little bit messy." Daniel smiles as he puts his bags on the floor.
Sungwoon just stands on the corner near the door and waits for Daniel, he walks to the his cabinet as he throws some clean clothes to his bed.
"Let's go." Daniel asks Sungwoon to join him. Sungwoon just follows him to a bathroom and it makes Sungwoon blushes.
Daniel takes his shirt off and he looks at Sungwoon in confuses."What's wrong?"
"You... said you'll give me food..."Sungwoon feels insecure as he grabs his arms. His hands is trembling and he can't even look at Daniel.
"You smell." Daniel bluntly says and come closer to Sungwoon.
Daniel tries to strips Sungwoon but Sungwoon tries hard to run away from him. It's easy for Daniel to dominate Sungwoon, he is smaller and for a reason he is so weak. Daniel pulls his shirt up, it's all bruises and scars. Some of it look fresh and still a little bit bleeding.
It surprises Daniel and Sungwoon tries to cover his body again.
"I'm so... rry... Please... just let go... of me..." Sungwoon begs with trembling voices. Daniel in his own mind as Sungwoon walks fast to escape himself. Someone bullies and hurts him.
The one who hurts him, Daniel wants to know. He chases Sungwoon right when he wants to open the door. Please don't leave.
"Please wait!" Daniel grabs Sungwoon's hand and the door in front of him opens. It's his mother coming back from her work.
Awkward silence fills the room as Daniel's mother closes the door behind her.
Sungwoon's wet eyes and tries to cover his face.
Daniel is half naked and grabs Sungwoon's hand.
They are in front of the door and it looks like Sungwoon's trying to run away from Daniel.
"Mom... I can expla---" Before Daniel can finish his words, a bag landed on Daniel's head.
"STUPID SON!" His mom screams and Daniel runs to living room to save his own life.
4. I'm Sorry...
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Kang Daniel x Ha Sungwoon High School AU
>
>
>
> No beta, please bear with broken English and bad grammar...
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> My editor is busy with her moving to other country so she can't help me to beta my works.
> But I want to share this story with you~ Please forgive my broken English...
>
> For my works update, please follow my twitter: @putrihuang
"Hohohohoho!!!I'm so sorry to show you my dark side!"she laughs as she puts the roll eggs on the table. Sungwoon just smile awkwardly and nods his head. He doesn't know what to do as Daniel sits in front of him.
"You should listen to me before hit me, mom." Daniel is in bad mood.
"What did you just say?" Daniel's mom pinches his cheek hard.
"Ouch!!! Mom! It hurt."
"What?"
"I'm sorry!!"
"That's what I thought." His mom lets go of his hand on Daniel's cheek and she sits between Daniel and Sungwoon. "OK! Let's eat." She says again.
Both Daniel and his mom grabs the chopsticks and starts to eat the dishes on the table. It's like a feast, eggs rolls, samgyeopsal, japchae, kimchi, and radish kimchi serves on the table. Daniel's mom's cooking is always the best for Daniel and she cooks a lot.
Sungwoon just looks at the table without moving his hands and both Daniel and his mother notices it.
"You don't like the food?" Daniel asks. Sungwoon surprises and looks at Daniel and his mom in confused.
"It's... good." Sungwoon's smiles and looks down again.
"Then you can eat it." Daniel says and put a slice of samgyeopsal to Sungwoon's rice bowl.
"Thank you..." Sungwoon nods but his hands are still not holding the chopstick, he just stares at the food. Daniel looks at his mother and they knows that something is wrong.
Daniel's mother tries to pats Sungwoon's head but before she can reaches him, Sungwoon quickly avoid her and falls from the chair. He looks terrified.
"Sorry... I'm sorry, ma'am... I won't do it... again." Sungwoon begs his rudeness.
"Sungwoon?" Daniel's mother confused.
"I'll... wait... please enjoy... the meal..." Sungwoon says and back to the seat. Daniel looks at his mother and shakes his head. They both doesn't know what's wrong with Sungwoon but they know that Sungwoon is treated badly.
Right after he showered and Daniel lends him his clothes, Sungwoon tries to cover his bruises on his arms and neck with his hands but it's useless.
Daniel and his mother won't ask and just lets him has his dinner but it makes them concern about Sungwoon.
Daniel and his mother finishes their meal as Daniel's mom starts to stands and grabs the plate. Sungwoon tries to help her and follows her to the kitchen. Daniel's mom smiles to him and he smiles back as they put the dishes in the wash basin.
"You don't have to wash the dishes." Daniel's mom says and throws the left over inside the trash bin.
"It's OK..." Sungwoon says and smiles to her. "I want to help, ma'am... You can just rest with Kang Daniel." Sungwoon insists but the kitchen is too small for 2 peoples.
"Can I take advantage from the offer?" Daniel's mom asks and smiles. Sungwoon nods and smiles.
"Thank you, Sungwoon-a."
"You are welcome, ma'am."
His mom back to the dining room and sits beside Daniel.
Daniel looks at his mother. "Mom, do you think what I think?"
"What?" His mom asks back.
"He's abused." Daniel says.
"I know." His mom answers and looks at Sungwoon in the kitchen.
"He doesn't even touch his bowl. It's weird." Daniel shows his concern.
"How weird?"
"I invited him to our home for meal and he was agreed but he doesn't touch his meal." Daniel explains and it sure makes them worry.
"I have a bad feeling about this." His mom walks to the kitchen to see Sungwoon&Daniel follows her. |
1def1e4635934ef2b563bfeb0b432ce5 | ['8fc489eeb44b4884b3d91a57124f86f0'] | Trembling hands went up to your tits, and you moaned as you pulled and pinched your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger. Your hips moved back and forth in slow circles as you ground yourself down on Wine’s face, dragging you back to the edge of your orgasm in a slow and delicious way.
A gasp escaped your lips as gravity forced you forward, your face getting cushioned by a plush pillow you were sure wasn’t there just a moment ago. You felt gloved hands prod at your ass, and you relaxed the moment you felt warm lube swirl around and inside your ass. Just two fingers made you feel so full, but you knew you could take all of Edge’s cock if he wished it.
He had trained you well.
Edge nipped your jaw, and spread the fingers in your ass. “ARE YOU READY, MY DEAR?”
“Of course she is,” Blueberry said as he took your hands and tied them together with a long strip of blue velvet. “She’s ours, afterall.”
Wine hummed his agreement against your cunt, and a scream rippled through the room, just to be silenced by Papyrus’s fangs. “That’s right. Let the other humans hear how this place is cursed.”
**Author's Note:**
> I LOVE a good Beauty and the Beast Au, so this Ko-Fi campaign was a lot of fun! I may do another chapter in the future, we'll see how it goes?
>
> Know what doesn't know how it goes? My Twitter! https://twitter.com/NilPastry | 0f5364f39040484ba39e16db4474e830 | ['8fc489eeb44b4884b3d91a57124f86f0'] | Was that it? You’d read somewhere that Gaster had been a rather accomplished Monster, and his scientific discoveries had helped drive humanity forward by two decades at least. No one was sure why he left the theater of science, though a few speculated it had to do with the failing health of his partner, and had turned to a life of business and crime.
The youngest brother was supposed to be a detective, but he stopped that gig only a year and a half in. No one knew why such a smart Monster had quit that job either, and had become the ‘clean up crew’ for the horrid gang.
And Sans…
Well, no one had known anything about Sans. He was in the spotlight one day when his brothers had established a small soup kitchen in the pit of the decaying city. He had tossed out plenty of people that were trying to pick fights, or were trying to prey upon the children that were often their for their meals.
The excited and curious thoughts were halted when you heard Sans’s deep voice hum some slow waltz to himself. His voice was relaxing, and if life had turned out a bit differently, you wondered if he would have been a singer for some radio show.
He paused when he noticed your staring and raised a brow bone. “what’s got your attention?”
“Nothing…” You sighed and crossed your arms. “Honestly, I hate these sort of events. I would much rather do anything else, and simply send my secretary to bring the money for me.”
“agreed.” He gestured to himself with a ringed hand. “hell, rather go help keep hooligans outta the construction site.”
“So you’re hands on then?”
“best hands you ever felt in your life, sugar tits.”
You smirked, and set your hand in his own boney one. It was hard and cold, and yet there was a thrumming under the bone that gently reminded you that Sans was far more than a corpse. “Perhaps…”
“get the best work out of them under the stars,” he said. “see results faster than light.”
You could feel your face grow warm again with such a comment, but you didn’t look away this time. Instead, you curled your fingers around his hand, and laced them as best as you could. “I think I would love that.”
He smirked and rubbed the delicate flesh of the front of your hand with his sharp thumb. “you’re one crazy bitch.”
“And you’re one sleazy bastard.”
“wanna dance with this sleazy bastard?”
You gave a soft smile, and for the first time tonight you felt like this wasn’t just to make the headlines look good, or to appear proper and like a good person.
You squeezed his hand gently, and you could feel the soft flutter of your soul deep within the confines of your heart. “Gladly.”
**Author's Note:**
> Got this Ko-Fi campaign done! I feel like it could be an ongoing series one day. Who knows.
>
> Know what does know? My Twitter! https://twitter.com/NilPastry |
175d5aa63cfc46f4910aa2e8d26a6eb5 | ['8fc70610091d484da39e11998e228c7f'] | Harley’s question was cut off by a soft and sweet kiss that Harley melted into. It was strikingly similar to the kisses they had exchanged last night, full of sorrow and fear that Harley could taste on his lips. Peter’s hands held him around the waist steadily as the two, and Harley’s arms rose to slip around Peter’s shoulders. Peter tilted his head slightly to press a firmer kiss that sent goosebumps flaring throughout Harley’s body, then he pulled away.
“I’m so sorry,” Peter said.
“For what?” Harley asked softly.
“You’re probably still mad at me, or whatever, but I had to do that one last time before everything happens.” Peter kicked off his shoes and threw off his jacket, so he was just standing before Harley in a t-shirt and pants.
“What are you doing? Sweetheart, it’s freezing outside.” Harley reached for him, but Peter stepped back.
“I know.” Peter gave a small, sad smile before reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small golden disk, the same item Harley had seen glinting before. He pressed it against the middle of his chest, and Harley heard a small click.
The disk melted, spreading out across Peter’s body in an instant. Harley stumbled back as Peter’s dorky science t-shirt and worried expression disappeared underneath a familiar insignia and mask.
“Fuck.” Harley. “Fuck, fuck, no you’ve got be fucking kidding me.”
Peter - _ Spider-Man, what the fuck _ \- stepped toward him, his hands in the air. “Hey, it’s still me. I’m sorry, I knew this would freak you out-” his voice sounded just like it did the other two times Harley had seen him, and Harley stepped back a few more feet. “-but can we maybe freak out later? We’ve gotta- we’ve gotta go- Shit, Harley, duck!”
“Huh?” Harley, still a little dazed by the revelation before him. Peter yelped and dropped to a crouch as a purple blast flew past Harley’s shoulder and over Peter’s head. Harley flinched, stumbling to the side. He heard a click far too close to his ear, and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
“Throw a single web, I fucking dare you.” Another click and Harley could see two different guns out of either side of his peripheral vision. Kir walked up next to him, the barrel pointed straight at his temple. “And I guarantee your webs won’t be fast enough to stop a bullet from barreling into his skull.”
“I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again,” Peter said, but his voice sounded shaky even underneath the voice modulation.
“Are you really willing to take that gamble, Peter Parker?” Kir dug the gun into the side of Harley’s head, right where his cut was, and it was all Harley could take not to cry out. He pushed his head back a little bit, but that only moved the gun on his other side to press against his neck, cutting off some airflow. He clenched his teeth at the spiking sensation penetrating the side of his head and inhaled raggedly, staring at Peter.
Peter’s shoulders stiffened. “Who’s that? I’m Spider-Man.”
“Cute. Here, I’ll give you another gamble to play. Take off your mask so we can see your pretty face, and I’ll lower my gun from his head.”
The white eyes of the suit narrowed. “You’ll both lower your guns.”
“Fine.” Kir stared back, unflinchingly. “Take off your mask now. We’re on a schedule, you know.”
Peter didn’t do anything for a moment, just stood there, staring at the three of them.
The gun jammed into Harley’s throat, and the hand on his shoulder clenched so hard that Harley wondered if the bone would break. He wheezed, tears pricking at his eyes as he fought to breathe. “Do we need to ask again?” the second man said. “Or do you need a little convincing?”
The lenses on the mask flared wide. “No, no, don’t hurt him, I’m doing it.” The mask of the suit melted back, and Peter was staring straight at Harley, wide-eyed. “Now lower the guns.”
“Sure, yeah, yeah.” Harley coughed as the pressure at his throat relinquished, doubling over.
“Why?” Peter asked. “Why’d you need my mask off?”
Kir stepped forward and swung her other hand up, which was holding the wide gun Harley had seen earlier. “Well, I don’t know how well you can really breathe under there without your suit functioning.”
“What-” And Kir fired, the projectile from her gun expanding into a wide net that enveloped Peter in black strings. It lit up purple for a minute, then Peter was on the ground, writhing as the net crackled with energy.
“What the fuck is that?” Harley yelled. “You’re killing him!”
“Nah, it’ll shut off in a second. I brought it along just is just to destabilize his suit. Bullets rarely work on him - yours was a lucky shot, isn’t that cool?” Peter’s eyes were flashing open and shut and his mouth formed a silent cry as he curled up against himself. After a few moments, Peter stilled.
“Boss paid for that one. Got someone special to design it, too, though they used your original schematics.”
Peter’s head tilted up towards Harley, but Harley couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes.
“Oh, geez,” Peter groaned, rolling and lying on his back. “That thing is powerful, where’d you get it? It’s completely fried my system.”
“Thanks!” Kir said brightly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind staying still, it’ll make this whole thing a whole lot easier.”
Peter coughed, hand coming to rest on his chest. “Yeah, but, you only messed up my suit.”
“So?” | bba5560567994c29ae30fdefed6a0da9 | ['8fc70610091d484da39e11998e228c7f'] | Harley huffed, pushed with both wrists now even though his left hurt like hell. “Just sayin’, you could have used someone different to find Spider-Man. Ruined my night, to be quite honest with you.”
“Shut up!” Otto roared, extending his arm with a flick of his eyes. Harley crashed into the wall, letting out a sharp cry as his head smashed into the concrete. For the first time, Harley briefly caught a glimpse of a window to his right, the fading sunlight outside before he became fully aware of the throbbing pain in the back of his head. He could feel something dripping down the back of his shirt, already beginning to crust in his hair.
Harley stayed silent, and the computer dinged. When Otto turned to look at it. Harley let his shoulders slump, his head hang. Adrenaline was fading after that introduction to the wall, and Harley was beginning to get weary. He just wanted to get out of here.
“It looks like your pal sent us a video back. How nice of him.” Otto sneered. “Let’s watch it together, shall we?”
The grip around his neck tightened again before Harley could say anything else. The feed played, a video of Peter in his suit.
“Yeah, listen, Doc, no can do. I sort of need this guy, so if you could just let him go now, I’ll make sure you aren’t put in the stinkiest cell at Riker’s, okay? Also, sorry Iron Lad, this was meant to be a birthday present but I hope you don’t mind it a little early. Karen, activate the Present Protocol.”
He couldn’t hear Karen’s reply, just barely saw the salute Peter gave along with a wink before Otto was slamming his fist down on the table. “What’s the Present Protocol?”
Harley gestured to his throat, and it loosened, just enough. “How the hell am I supposed to know? He said it was for my birthday!”
“Tell me his name.”
“No. Hey, where the fuck is Plasma?”
“Plasma?” Otto quirked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the guy with the mask who you teamed up with. Where the hell is he?”
“Oh, Brent?”
Harley’s eyes bugged. “His name is Brent? Seriously? Who is he?”
“Tell me Spider-Man’s name and I’ll tell you about him.”
Harley laughed. “Oh, no, I don’t care that much. Brent is enough information, thanks.”
“Tell me. Spider-Man’s. Name.” Harley wheezed as his airflow was restricted again, but could only shrug.
“What part- what part of “no” don’t you understand, dude?” he choked out, wincing for another meeting with the wall. But nothing came.
There was a crack, a window breaking. Something hit the back of Harley’s palm, no bigger than a quarter on his hand.
It unfolded, covering his right hand in a familiar-looking piece of technology. Harley laughed at the shock on Otto’s face. “So that’s what it is, then.”
The man snarled, appendages moving, but Harley was somehow faster. He shot a blast at the arm around his throat, the claws releasing on some kind of instinct. Harley dropped to the ground just as Peter came crashing through the window, kicking down what was left of the glass. Harley shot another blast straight for the man’s face, knocking off his glasses. His arm buzzed, and he saw a warning for three blasts.
“It’s temporary. C’mon, let’s get out of here. I don’t want you in here another second.” Peter’s voice was hard and shaking, nothing like the easy-going voice Harley had heard just minutes ago. Harley grabbed around his neck, and Peter jumped out the window to Otto’s howls behind him.
It took a few minutes of them swinging through the air before Harley realized that he was crying. He could feel Peter against him, breathing in shuddering breaths.
“Apartment,” Peter muttered, voice barely catching on the last syllable. “Need to- to-”
“I’m okay,” Harley said, his tone thick with tears. “I knew you'd come find me.”
They reached the roof, made it inside. They immediately rushed to the bathroom, bandaging Harley’s wrist in numb, practiced motion. Harley could feel his chest splintering, breaking apart from all the emotion within it, but he kept his breathy steady until the bandage was wrapped. As soon as it was, and Harley felt the light press of Peter’s hand along the side of his head, he broke. Leaning into Peter’s touch, the pair of them slid to the bathroom floor, and Harley sobbed. Shoulders shuddering, he sobbed despite the pain in his throat. He felt Peter next to him, sliding down next to him and moving so Harley could put his head in his boyfriend’s lap for as long as he needed while he cried.
“God,” Harley rasped in a shuddering tone, gripping the hem of his shirt over and over again. “That sucked.”
“I know.” He could hear Peter’s tears in his voice, could feel the other boy shaking against him. “I’m so sorry, Harley, I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”
“Well, that’s the life of a hero, ain’t it?” Harley tried, wiping at his streaming tears like it would make a distance.
“No, but this time- this time it was because of me. Doc Ock wanted you to hurt so I would do something for him. This- this was my fault.”
“Hey, hold on.” Harley took a grip on his emotions, sitting up to look at Peter. It was difficult not to lose it all over again at the sight of Peter’s face, blotchy with tears and fading bruises. He was sure he didn’t look much different. “This was not your fault. We’re in this together, right? Partners.”
Peter didn’t meet his eyes, instead casting them down to examine the bathroom tile. “But what if it happens again. He knows your name now, he knows who you are. What if he comes for you again.” |
83ae807b4c26456aba759c4b17bc0650 | ['8fcf366a34764ef2b8512bc3f5407a6d'] | “Looks like you didn't need help in getting here.” He responded.
Round face chuckled and thanked,
“Thanks for your help that day. I made it just in time. I'm Uraraka Ochako by the way.”
“Can't blame ya since this school is like a maze. Also I'm Midoriya Izuku.” He responded.
As Bakugo heard those words, his eyes widened.
He looked at him again and saw how he changed from when he last saw him.
He noticed that he had the same curly hair but it was dyed black. He saw the same green eyes gaze at him which were all dull with no light in them.
Bakugo had so many questions for him, one of them mainly how the fuck quirkless Deku get into U.A.
He didn't see his name on the exam rankings.
**That means...No..there's no way...**
All of a sudden,
a man entered the class, removing his yellow sleeping bag.
Bakugo noticed the stupid smirk Deku gave as he said, “Sleeping bag, huh? Genius.”
“It took eight seconds to quiet down. Time is limited. You kids are not rational enough.” Aizawa muttered.
“I'm your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta. Nice to meet you.”
The homeroom teacher grabbed something out of the sleeping bag.
It was the U.A gym uniform.
“It's kind of sudden but put this on and go out onto the field.” Aizawa ordered.
“Use the changing rooms.”
All of the students in Class 1-A did what was told.
The students separated into two changing rooms, one for the boys and one for the girls.
Each student had their locker along with their number given.
**_In the boy's locker room,_ **
Everyone was wondering and asking questions to each other about what they were going to do on the field until they were answered by Midoriya.
“It's a Quirk Apprehension Test. It's no big deal.”
Everyone looked at the boy who was so calm about a test of all things.
Bakugo couldn't help but admit that dumb Deku was probably right.
He couldn't lay his eyes off of Deku ever since he walked out of the classroom.
There's something strange about him.
The one thing he can conclude is that he wasn't the same Deku he knew back then.
He continued staring even while he was changing into the gym gear.
Bakugo hates to admit but Deku was ripped.
He took a closer look and took notice of the faded scars on his back and arms.
Even though they were faded, they were too many.
What had been Deku doing these past years?
“You know, it's rude to stare, Bakugo.” Deku said with his back towards him.
All Bakugo did was give him a mean glare avoiding everyone's gazes at him whilst Four eyes kept scolding and karate chopping,
“Bakugo, you should show respect to other students including their privacy!”
Bakugo ignored him and continued changing, over-hearing the following conversation.
“I'm glad we have someone like you, Ida. Keeps things in order and balanced.”
“Thank you for your compliment, Midoriya. I’m truly happy that I have a classmate that appreciates my services.” Iida said as he clenched his heart with tears of joy in his eyes.
“No need to get emotional on the first day. See ya guys on the field.” Midoriya said.
He was the first one of all the classmates who exited fully dressed and the first one who arrived at the field.
Bakugo couldn't help but feel angry.
Why the heck does he suddenly care for Deku?
He's always been a pebble, always have and always will.
Let's see who will do better in this Quirk Apprehension Test but Bakugo is sure that he's gonna beat Deku easily as the rest of these extras
7. The Students Throw A Ball With A Boost
Every student in Class 1-A was outside in the field with their homeroom teacher who claimed to be Aizawa Shouta standing in front of them.
“A Quirk Apprehension test?” Everyone asked.
“What about the entrance ceremony? The orientation?” Uraraka asked.
Aizawa with his back towards them explained,
”If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events. U.A's selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are. That's also how the teachers run their classes.”
Everyone were surprised and shocked at the same except for Midoriya and Todoroki.
“You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right?” The homeroom teacher asked.
He showed his phone and explained,
”Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your Quirks. The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their Quirks. It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating.”
The homeroom teacher glanced at Bakugo and said,
”Bakugo, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?”
Bakugo nodded.
“In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?” Aizawa asked.
“67 metres.” Bakugo responded.
“Then try doing it with your quirk.” Aizawa suggested.
Bakugo went inside the circle ready with ball in his hand as Aizawa stated,
“You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up and give it all you got.”
“DIEEEEEE!!!!” Bakugo yelled.
He threw the ball with his explosive Quirk that was sent flying into the air.
This made Midoriya roll his eyes thinking
**Guess things never change.**
“Know your own maximum first. That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero.”
Aizawa said as he showed them Bakugo's result.
_**705.2 metres.** _
“705 metres, for real?” Kaminari asked.
“What's this? It looks fun!” Ashido said with excitement.
“We can use our Quirks as much as we want! As expected from the hero course!” Sero yelled with enthusiasm.
“It looks fun, huh? You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?” Aizawa asked. | f9a48547232f42b0a8bc0b34cbc96b1e | ['8fcf366a34764ef2b8512bc3f5407a6d'] | “A bounty list. According to this, Zarkon created it to hunt down wanted enemies of the Galra Empire.” Coran answered.
He pulled out another screen which had the name,
**The Lone Rebel**
“This bounty was terminated until it was recently activated a few ticks ago.”
“Everybody to your Lions! We gotta catch up with them before lose Lance and the Blue Lion.” Shiro ordered.
As they were heading to the Lions, Hunk kept ranting through the comms.
“I mean, y'know, at first, it was just like a feeling in my gut, you know? But when I was replacing that thermal pipe, the pipe was cracked, but none of the hardware around it was damaged."
"Okay, we get it." Keith said.
Unfortunately, Keith’s statement didn’t stop Hunk's ranting.
"I mean, if the thermal pipe is cracked, then, obviously, hello, the entire assembly should be totally roasted."
"Okay! We get it."
"We should've had to replace the entire undercarriage of that reactor. So, right then, I was, like, positive. Foul play."
This struck a nerve to everyone as the team shouted through the comms,
"Okay, we get it!"
The remaining Lions blasted off on their chase after Rolo, Nyma and Beezer.
* * *
Lance's body felt numb and weak, as he climbed out of the darkness and slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light above his head.
Everything felt so strange now and so very unfamiliar.
The last thing he remembered was aiming his gun at Rolo and Beezer.
_**Wait a minute...** _
Lance opened his eyes slightly and took quick glances at his surroundings.
He was on their ship and apparently a prisoner.
He felt the tightness of the shackles around his arms.
Lance looked at his body to check if they stolen anything.
Luckily, the only thing they stole was his gun.
Then thoughts began running through his head.
_**Ok so apparently I got knocked out unconscious due to Beezer's knockout gas.** _
_**Since they didn't disarm me completely, I'm guessing they're expecting me to stay unconscious for a bit longer.** _
_**Good thing Medica injected the anti-serum for any knock out gas in to me while I was sleeping.** _
_**Medica and her insane paranoia.** _
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
"Commander Prorok, my name is Rolo. I understand you're offering a reward to anyone helping capture the Voltron Lions."
_**Better get outta here before the Galra find out I'm alive.** _
"That's correct. Do you know where they are?" Prorok asked.
"I know where the blue one is. It's in my ship." Rolo said.
_**Quiznack. So much for escaping without them noticing.** _
"Excellent. Bring it to me and you'll have your reward immediately." Prorok said.
"Just a tick. You see, my friends and I have a bit of a checkered past. Some stolen merchandise from the Galra Empire may have fallen into our possession without us knowing about it." Rolo said.
"Well, I suppose you should return them back to Galran Empire." Prorok suggested.
"How about a bargain?" Rolo asked.
Prorok raised his eyebrow assuming that they have nothing else to offer.
"The Blue Lion is not the only thing that we got. You see Commander, we came across someone who was a thorn in the Galran Empire." Rolo explained.
Then he showed Commander Prorak through the transmission Lance's gun.
"That's impossible. According to the files, he was terminated." Prorak stated.
"Let me give you a closer look." Rolo said as he stepped aside.
Lance pretended to be unconscious and was cursing to himself in his mind.
On the bright side, his back was only shown.
_**So much for being dead.** _
"Well in that case, a full pardon can be arranged for the brave souls who bring Emperor Zarkon a Voltron Lion and the Lone Rebel. Is that all?" Prorak asked.
"We'll take the reward for his capture along with the Blue lion's reward too." Nyma demanded.
"Of course." Prorak said.
"All right. We're on our way." Rolo said.
The transmission ends.
As Rolo grins and stretches, he says, "I almost feel sorry for those Voltron folks. Seemed like a nice bunch."
"If you're feeling guilty, you can turn yourself in. Stealing from Zarkon carries a life sentence." Nyma suggested.
"They don't seem... that nice." Rolo admitted.
_**This isn't good.** _
_**Knowing the Galrans too well, they won't trust these guys with their valuable prizes.** _
_**Great now we have a fighter squadron to deal with.** _
Thanks to his experience of being captured many times by the Galra, escaping was piece of cake for him but the only variable was he had to escape with a gigantic Blue Lion.
The only plan he had in mind was to escape and take over the ship by knocking out Beezer, Rolo and Nyma.
_**If only I had a distraction....** _
Coincidentally, alarms started blaring.
Rolo pulled a screen which showed four readings that were on their trail.
It was the Four Lions of Voltron.
"No way." Rolo said with astonishment.
He starts to fly his spacecraft to safety while Nyma questioned,
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? There's no way we can outrun those Lions."
Rolo smirked as he explained, "Not in the open. Good thing the Zorlar asteroid belt is right up here. I know that like the back of my hand."
The criminal aliens flew into the asteroid belt making the Four Lions stop.
"We'll never get through this asteroid field.” Pidge stated.
"Maybe I can just bust through!" Hunk suggested.
He piloted the Yellow Lion to slam into an asteroid but unfortunately, this caused all the asteroids to crash against each other.
As it resulted badly, Hunk admitted,
"Nope. That was wrong. That was a bad idea."
Shiro knew that there was only one pilot that can get through the asteroids so he said,
"Keith, you're the only one who could possibly fly through this. We need you, buddy. Get in there and flush him out." |
458a58a152664df8b2d1e0c859ffa9dd | ['8fd86010920546be89ac9c7b3243be50'] |
RocketFiction: Rocket's Monster Fantasy
**Author's Note:**
> Greetings life forms of all colors! I am your worst nightmare if you have a boyfriend. No I'm joking, tee he. This is my fist EVER fan fiction which I like to call any fan fiction I write RocketFiction. I am actually writing a whole stkry of Mike and Sully with a little of Randall and Johnny on the side but that is not this story. No this is just something I wrote with what ever came to mind using characters of my own that I created. Rocket and Tronamie come from my own Story that hopefully I will get published one day and might just end up here on this site as a fan fiction. ;) Anyways I want to finish writing my whole fan fiction or as I said earlier, RocketFiction, of Mike and Sully before I post any of it. IT will be posted to my Tumbler with Pictures I draw my self exclusive to the chapter itself, as well to this Site and fanfiction.net and gaydemon.com. Although I'm not so sure Gaydemon.com does fan fictons, the turms where not there to click on at the writing page but I'll look for them either way. But as I was saying I got board of not having anything I found interesting on the internet of Mike and Sully fan fictions and mines not finished yet so I pritty much wipped this one up and just went with the flow with this one here and put what came to mind on how this could co-exist with the actual film Monsters University, of course once all my characters meet the story line is changed. But not completely. Although I made it out to be extremely erotic which goes against everything Disnified, so that part is a major change of its own. But other than that it stil carries the same plot of the original movie, just Rocketfied.
One night in Teccatron at the Galaxy family home Rocket was having fantastic butt sex with his husband Tronamie. "Oh! Yeah! Come on Trony, just like that! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Harder! Ooh! Harder, harder, harder! Oh Yeah! Uh! Ooh!" "Oh yeah! Yeah! Yeah! YEAH! Oh, oh, OH!" Tronamie was so far up Rocket's ass and going so fast it was insane. Rocket built up a sweat, rolling drops from his nose to his lips, from there to his nipples to his side right down into his but crack where his huge harry hubby was shoving his big cock. The sweat was intense on Tronamie too; it was all in his lovely brown and purple spotted hair/furr. His chest was glistening with the stuff. His back too all the way down to his own but cheeks and crack. Not to mention his tail was drenched. Tronamie, biting his lips, showing his monstrous, human sized saber teeth, let out a moan of pleasure. "Ow-oooooo!" Tronamie said playfully bringing a lustful yet playful smile to Rocket’s face. The two always had playful fun, even during intercourse... sexual intercourse that is. Tronamie leaned in, kissing Rocket vigorously into the mouth. His tongue plunging in and meeting Rocket's. They started to moan in great enjoyment and in harmony to each other. As their make out escalated to slobbering in each other’s and on each other’s mouths it seemed that they could never be parted until... *Creek* "Wha- Uh... What the banishment?..." Rocket and Tronamie snap out of their entrance of their lustful venchers into each other to look to their bedroom closet door. A pawn their gaze they find a round, little, one-eyed, lime green ball with limbs and a huge mouth to boot. "He-hello there little green one." Rocket says after he realizes that they all froze for a moment and that time did not stop. "The little green thing quickly snapped out of his embarrassed/puzzled/slightly aroused state and transferred into a more stunned and shocked state still lingering on the slight arousement he felt as he replied. "Wh- w-, wha, w-well I was just... um..." "Wanna come in here where its snugly and warm?" Rocket told him in a friendly, lovingly way while sounding just too cute. The little green monster clenched his arm and started to rub it as a flustered blush started to form wildly on his face. "What?!! I-I-I d-d-dunno?... I-um... *tee he* I don't know... Maybe..." "Come on over here cuttie thang! Let us give you some love!" Rocket said this so seductively the small round monster could barely remember why he came there in the first place and soon forgot as his mind flooded with fantastic sexual fantasies of making love to these two incredibly attractive creatures luring him into their sex trap. "Oh-oh-okay" The little green round thing said as he lifted out his scrawny little arms approaching the fabulous bed filed with century’s worth of oozy jiz after closing the door behind him. Rocket and Tronamie holding out their arms in welcoming awaiting embrace, Tronamie's sweat filled fuzzy armpits fully exposed. The round little monster hopped onto the bed and into their arms for a loving embrace. "So hey there you. You little cute thing you. You got a name green thing?" Rocket said. "Mike, Mike Wazawski." The little green monster spoke. "Well Mike, are you ready for the time of your life?" Mike became speechless and could only respond with a slow nod. "Well then Mike, prepare yourself for non-stop, all night but fucking sex. Watch out everyone, it’s about to get a whole lot steamier in here!" Rocket grabbed hold of Mike shoving his dick into his mouth making him swallow hard and instantly slobber all over while Tronamie griped tight and started thrusting his large trunk of a cock into Mike's ass pumping off slow then gradually picking up the pace converting to rapidly ram him. They all moaned deep and heavily now. Tronamie again leaned down over to kiss Rocket, making a meaty sandwich causing intense heat between the three bodies. Rocket started to hump upwards into Mike's mouth now while Tronamie still kept the same pace causing the bed to tumble and shudder even harder and louder than before. Their pace increased even more, going faster and faster. Cum was surely on its way. "Uh! Faster! Faster!" Said Rocket. "Oh yes! Uh, uh, uh! Yeeeaassss! Oh yeah!" Came from Tronamie. "Mmm! Mmm!" Mussed Mike. Mike hurriedly grabbed his pennies and started to stroke it wildly as he could feel the cum starting to flood his tubes. Mike broke off the sucking to be turned around by Tronamie who now was being seeded by Rocket. "Umf, uuummff! Uuuuumf! Oh, oh, oh! I'm gunna come! I'm gunna come! Ooh!" Mike screamed out in great pleasure. He came and he squirted big exactly when the door was opened again by a rather large monster covered in bright blue furr with purple poka-dots. The cum squirted right into the monster's face. Mike looked embarrassedly stunned then suddenly gasped. "Sully?!" *DUN, DUN, DUN* TO BE CONTINUED
**Author's Note:**
> Hey Readers of all ages! Hope you enjoyed my Sex tape in words, I sure did! Oh get your mind out of tjat gutter todd! Sorry, he's kinda mentally impaired or something of that matter. I hope you look forwards to my future writings. Thank you so much for reading! Stay sexy darlings! *mwa* XD ♥♡<3 | fb03d84fbe284f19bbd216de01bc17f9 | ['8fd86010920546be89ac9c7b3243be50'] |
RocketFiction: Rocket's Monster Fantasy, Chapter 3: The After RocketMath
**Author's Note:**
> Heyaller guys! Yes it is finally here! The third chapter originally supposed to be six chapters but now I’m thinking ten. Now I would like to give you what is called “Rocket FunFacts” and “RocketFiction Facts” Rocket FunFact #109: Tronamie does not say much in the story nor does he seem to be the smart one. In fact I just made him to be the fun, always hungry, loveable oaf for this story because it is not really focused on who he is but on Rocket and Tronamie’s friendship with Mike, Sulley and everyone one else I am going to introduce latter. But don’t be deceived, Tronamie is a technical and mechanical genius and he nearly know as much as Rocket knows. There are still some things he has yet to experience for himself in order for him to understand them first. RocketFiction Fact #001: You may have wondered what did Sulley ever do about all that jiz that splattered all over his face, we… He just left it on his face until he gets himself ready. Other than that it just fades away as it becomes dried up by the morning and sticks to his now very messy after sex furr-doo. ^_^ RocketFiction Fact #002: A lot of you may have noticed that the bed had broken… Yeah, in the morning no one had remembered that fact because they were too busy fucking the night away. The bed just ended up magically fixing itself over night without disturbing anyone’s sleep. Sorry I did not finish writing this sooner and post it but I wanted to wait until you guys sent me feedback about you guys wanted rocket’s Fraternity/Sorority name to be… But no one cared… At least, not yet anyways. You’re in luck that it will not come up until chapter four. So you have until then to either pick one from the list I gave you or come up with your own and send me your idea. Remember that I want at least twenty of you to agree on the same thing before I enter it as your decision. If you do not chose one I will be forced to make a final decision of my own. However you can still give me your ideas latter even after the whole story has been posted. I will update it for you guys. Anyways I am going to take a little break for a while before I start writing my thoughts again so that should give you plenty of time to decide on your choice. ENJOY MY STORY DARLINGS!!!! <3 XD ^_^ *
Breakfast was a spectacular feast of wondrous enjoyments. Smokey Lumber Log bacon, honey ham, smoked salmon, sweet cod, hardy steak, sweet and tender sausage, buttery pancakes topped with blue berries, stray berries pineapple, grapes and warm forest tree sap syrup. Hash browns, cinnamon toast waffles, chocolate chip waffles, seasoned potato totts. French toast with a deep cinnamon spice embedded in and buttery syrup on top. Pumpkin pie and pecan pie fresh out of the oven. Salads and portabella mushroom burgers were not forgotten for the herbivores with a large variety of veggies, some of which unrecognizable. Though people in urban areas did not know much many of the world’s vegetables. Tomato was the exception though, it is a fruit. For dessert was a ginormous ice cream sunday with five unknown flavors to both humans and monsters. It came equipped with banana chunks, thickly sliced stray berries, huge chocolate chips, goopy caramel, hot chocolate fudge and coconut shreds to boot. Yogurts were a plenty, mixed with fresh fruits. The beverages included lattes, mocha chinas and espressos with pumpkin and cinnamon spice and Irish vanilla cream foam. Coffee with an uncountable amount of creamers, warm milk with stray berry, chocolate and French vanilla flavors. And delicious sweetened ice tea with lemon, lime and orange sliceletts .
“Yum, yum!” Said Mike. “Mmm, mmm!” Mussed Sulley. Tronamie was wolfing down his food like crazy. (Man did that guy have a very hungry appetite) both Mike and Sulley thought. “Um-nom-nom-nom-mm!” Tronamie ate away very noisily. “Rocket, did you really cook all of this up?” Asked Sulley. “Yep! I sure did!” “Wow, it’s good!” Said Mike. “Thank you dear! It’s always nice to know when someone loves my cooking!” “Yeah, it’s great! I love it!” Sulley said before landing a kiss on Rocket’s Lips across the table. “Tee he, thanks Sull!” Rocket gushed with satisfaction eminent on his face. “So, what do you guys do around here?” Mike Began, Sulley now joining his gaze. “Well we usually just throw lots of parties and play around but occasionally Tronamie and I have our romantic outings. Or innings! Other than that I just seek more power and knowledge of “All” and Tronamie here trains with my sword of Epicenes and thinks of new inventions.” “Wo, wo, wo! Sword of what now, I mean what is that? You make it sound like it is a powerful weapon.” “He, he. It is! It is a very powerful originally crafted from ultra-light, a substance only known and tangible by ultra-beings such as myself. It has transformed now into an even more powerful tool by the power of Tronamie’s and my love for each other. It is now made up of absolute chronic, cosmic black and white star matter.” “Wo! You guys just- upgraded an already powerful sword , just by your love for one another?” “Well Mike it’s not just as simple as you think. Anyone can love each other but most people anywhere have forgotten or never knew to begin with what love actually is. What Tronamie and I share is an inseparable bond that never dies because it is purely impossible.” “What do you mean exactly?” “Well, what a lot of people in some worlds go around thinking is that all that is to love is that they love someone or someone they know loves them. But that is just infatuation or being super fiscal. When someone like that finds someone they like that is what they think or that just assume the other feels the same about them as they do for them and that to them is love. But it’s not. Part of the problem is that some of these people don’t even put any effort into a relationship and just believe that it’s the other person’s job to love them back for no apparent reason. What those people do not understand or don’t want to accept is that love is more than that. Much more! It’s not one sided crushes. Love starts with yourself first. To love someone else, anyone at all, you must first love yourself. Once you have found love for yourself you are ready to comprehend love for another. When it comes to loving another person Love is where two or more people care deeply for one other equally with no doubt. There should be no question about the extent of the other persons love in a relationship. Yes sometimes it is really hard to tell apart people who are just using from people actual care about you. But when love is true you should know what is real and what is fake. And love can only be true if both people are willing to let go of that safety bar they clutch on to for precious life and cling onto each other for support. And let the flow of their true feelings release into the atmosphere, not once holding back with regret. And only when a family or friends or soul mates are in sync with these feelings for one another or each other can they achieve true love together. The act of staying by each other’s sides, no matter the threat, even if it’s deadly or worse. Holding hands and kissing in public, in front of countless people without a care of anyone else's regard, no matter what genders both people of the relationship are. Girl-boy, girl-girl, boy-boy, it does not matter! Doing things for each other, giving gifts, and spending all the time in the world with each other until you no longer live purely because it is fun and it is what you truly what you guys want to do! Talking to each other all the time about anything without hiding anything, lending a chest to cry into or a shoulder to cry onto! Doing nice things that you know the other will like because it makes you happy! The point of which you can no longer just say your best friends because you are so much tremendously more than that that you are more than inseparable, you just can't help but love each other, it's just natural, like breathing! Or seeing with your own dam eye or eyes! It's called living people! That is what love is all about and that is what true love is! That is the true nature of the bond that Tronamie and I share!" "Yes it is!" Tronamie added. "And that is the power that transformed our sword."
"Woahhh!... That sounds... well... Epic!" "Hey, first you said it was your sword, now you day it's yours and Tronamie's." Sulley said. "Yeah... I know, I kind of got carried away there. But I really do mean it." Rocket looks up to Tronamie, now in his lap. "It is our sword and I would not have it any other way." Rocket just sits there in the youthful man beast's lap, gazing dreamily into his eyes while he gazed back down to his mate with the same look for a moment before they started to make out. Mike looks up to Sulley with a look that said: Are going to end up that close some day? Sulley gave him a returning look that said: I don’t know, but I would really like that. His face then grew a thoughtful smile and he scooted a little closer to mike now playing a “who can scoot closer to whom” game. Mike then scooted his chair a little bit closer too. Sulley and Mike not once disrupting their gaze into each other’s eyes. The two monsters both scooted more and more closer to one another until finally mike was in Sulley’s big, blue, furry arms on his lap. They gawked dreamily at each other in loving bliss. They too started to make out. It started out as a sweet and innocent jester but it did not stay that way for long. Before you knew it the making out became more intense with hand gliding down back and moaning. Out of nowhere Tronamie and Sulley brushed off the table of all things and plopped Rocket and Mike onto it. Grabbing each other in a sexual embrace, Tronamie and Sulley slipped their lips onto each other’s pumped up furry tree trunk cocks, doing a sixty-nine. Mike slid his penis into Sulley and Rocket followed suit with Tronamie. It was such a nice beak-fast but it turned into morning sex on the table. The moaning began instantly. The table raddled an shook as it was clear by the meir sound of it that it was not built for such an activity. But everyone ignored it as they were too caught up in their lust. It was not long, just a little over twenty minuets when the table gave in and everyone crashed down onto the floor. Ouch. Sadly this interrupted their sexual mood. “Ugh!... Oh well, that was nice while it lasted…” Mike said. Tronamie and Sulley both sat up straight, legs out and arms dropped to their sides. They had sad faces on now. Their expression shared agreement. “Well, it had to come to an end some time.” Rocket said. “In that case I guess it’s time to start our day.” Tronamie said with a warm smile now replacing his sadden frown. “So um… What do you guys want to do today? Rocket began. “We got video games, mini-golf, ping pong-“ Mike interrupts him. “That sounds fun and all but I had a better idea in mind Mike?” “Well, I was thinking that you two can come with us back to our world and we could all have a party with our Oozma Brothers! And we could show you around and stuff!” Mike was ecstatic. “…Oh, well, um…” “What?” “Well… here’s the thing. Traveling from one world to another world is complicated… “Huh? How so?” “It’s like this; you guys come from a parallel co-existing cross dimensional double universe zone. It is easy for you to just create a portal in your world to the parallel co-existing world.” “Yeah that’s true.” “What’s he talking about?” Said Sulley. “*shh!*” Mike shushed him. “My world is different and it is separate from your cross dimensional bond that your world and it’s parallel world shares. My world and your world are on two separate tracks. They do not exist besides, next to, or in each other.” Rocket’s face sprouted a smile. “That is what amazes me about how you guys managed to travel to my world. You must be really good at traveling to other spaces outside of the walls of your own existence.” “I don’t even know what you are talking about? What does that even mean?” “Well let’s put it like this, your universe and its parallel self must have been created together in a cosmic explosion that some humans call the “big bang”.” “We call it that too, actually.” “Oh. Well then, the “big bang” happened and it created your two co-existing universes. My world is different then that but for comprehending sake let’s just say that was a whole other big bang that happened separately from yours.” Basically we do not exist inside of your world we exist outside of it. Understand? Oh! I get the picture now! Now I see what you mean about how we got here… Must have been a fluke or something.” “Yes, you got it Mike! Now you understand me!” “Huh… That’s really fascinating.” Sulley chimed in. “Yeah, it really is!” Tronamie chimed back at him with a big smile on his face. Rocket continued. “Anyways, when you guys came here you changed. What I mean is that all worlds have different physics, elements and cosmic rules and stuff like that. In most cases you will end up dying if you where to go hopping around at random from one world to another.” Mike and Sulley both took a gulp. “But you were lucky to have stumbled across my world; in fact it is more logical that you were able to come here than go somewhere else. Nothing majorly bad is going to happen to you when your atoms shift into this reality but in order for you to be able to comprehend it you are put through a transformation that not only effects your physical state but affects your mental state. This may also bring out a change in your personality due to the atmosphere and, environment and elements in this world. Something about you may have changed slightly to better fit this reality’s logic. You should still be basically who you once where but now that you have been reborn into this existence limitations that you lived in while you were in your world no longer apply to you here in this world. Of course that being said if you where to go to another world you could end up with more limitations then you had before. In any case you have to stop and think about it to yourselves about what has changed about you because most of the time this change goes without your acknowledgement.” “Woah. I did not think of that, at least not yet anyways.” Mike said. “Now the problem is if we all go back to your world having the same intentions as we do now being the same people who we are now, we would end up perverting your world’s reality. And it will stay that way and cannot ever be turned back.” “Perverted?” Sulley asked with a half smirk forming. “Yes, perverted.” Mike turned around to face Sulley now. “He means that our world will be warped to be different than what it is now.” “Oh. Why didn’t you just say that then?” Mike chuckled. “He can use the word like that.” “Huh, how come?” Mike’s smile grew bigger. “The definition of perverted is: deviating away from what is right/ correct or distorting the truth.” Sulley chuckled. “Oh, okay, I see now. I still think that’s funny though.” “Oh you big furr-ball.” Mike says while rolling his eyes with a smile.
There was a pause before Mike continued. “So what’s so bad about us changing our world?” “Well, it is not right to change other people for the sake of keeping your new self. It is fun and all to hang out like this in our world with us but when the time comes to go home it is best that you go back to the life you lived before to prevent everything and everyone from being affected and effected. “Well, so what if it changes everyone and everything? It’s not going to harm anyone, is it?” “well no, but… it isn’t right… No one will be the same again and all of your relationships will change drastically. It is a selfish act to change others for your own self benefit.” Mike gasped and dragged a sad heavy look up to Sulley who had watery eyes ready to burst and a quivering lip. Mikes face now turned from sad to mad. “So what, just give up the now stronger bond that Sulley and I now share!” Sulley’s whole body tightened up as that one statement gave him butterflies. He could not stop blushing. Mike spoke in a low saddened tone now. “But I did not want to go back to the way things were…” Mike’s voice now became a mixture of sobbing and yelling. “No! No, I like what has happened to us and how much closer we have become! I don’t want to go back! I don’t ever want to go back to the way things were before!” Mike turns away with a very pouty face, tears now steaming on his hot cheeks. Sulley embraces Mike, cradling him in his big, blue, furry arms giving him a tight squeeze. Mike nuzzled himself away in his in Sulley’s furry chest. “I refuse to give that up!” “But Mike-“ Sulley interrupted him. “Rocket, I know what circumstances are but is it really that bad if our relationships change and our feelings towards others and theirs towards us and things around us in our world change. From what I understand that would not be a benefit nor a defect. Is that right?” “Well yes but-“ “Mikey and I have grown so much closer, and ever since we’ve been here we have become inseparable. How could you crush Mikey’s heart… How could you deny us our- our love for each other! Sulley broke into a roaring blubbering sob. “I love you Mikey!” Tears now gushing out of the big, blue, furr-ball’s shut tight eyes as he squeezed Mike. “I love you too Sulley!” Mike replied in harmony with Sulley’s blubbering voice. The two monsters shared a quiet moment with tears streaming down their faces. Tronamie had nothing more to say and all Rocket could do is continue his hard glare a pawn the two monsters shedding away tears in each other’s arms. After a good long moment Rocket finally sighed, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He spoke in a very soft and quite tone now. His voice at ease and very soothing. “You’re right… You’re absolutely right. How could I do such a foul thing to you guys…” Rocket’s voice now boomed with a roaring tone. “How could I- deny you your love for each other! It’s not right! None of its right! So be it I’ll let all of “All” change if I have to so that you two and anyone else could be happy together!... It is settled then! We shall travel with you two back to your world! Get your selves ready boys! I’m going to take you up on your invitation and you’re going to be stuck with us for a few years! “ Mike and Sulley gasped with ecstatic expressions. Sulley and Mike both exclaimed out for joy. “Really!!! Oh wow!!! Yay!!!!!” The monsters went from water works to an uproar of joy as all they could do in this moment is jump around turning in a circle and holding hands exclaiming nothing more than the phrase: “Yay!” over and over again. Rocket and Tronamie could not help but chuckle as a smile quickly spread across their faces before getting up to go get themselves ready to go.
After everyone was finally ready they all met up at Rocket and Tronamie’s bed room closet door. “Wow, Rocket… you-look… well- fabulous!” Mike said. “Well thank you hun! Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing!” “Yeah, I’ll say! You look so gosh darn adorable in that space-agey top hat of yours!” “Oh-ho-ho-ho! Thank you dear!” Sulley blushed with a cheeky smile. “Well here we go then.” Tronamie said taking Rocket’s hand and looking down at him with a smile on his face. “Yeah, let’s go!” Rocket said in excitement to everyone. “I wonder if the door is still powered. It must have run out of energy by now. Or worse, someone has found it left on and turned it off. We have stayed here over night now, it’s been so long.” Mike worried. Rocket answered his worries. “Well this world is on a separate chronic calendaring all of its own, apart from all other worlds and places. So it is a possibility that little to no time at all has passed in your world. “ “Hum, well even so, if it’s not powered we’re going to have to power it up again.” “Oooo! This sounds interesting! Do tell, how would we go about doing that?” “Well, the door is powered by emotion… that of human’s normally. If the case is that it’s not powered you and Tronamie are going to have to scream…” “What?” Tronamie said. “Scream, why? Can’t Tronamie and I just kiss real passionately instead and make the door power up? I mean if the door is powered by emotion then that should work just as well too. Should it not?” Asked Rocket. “Hum… you know I never thought of that before… Maybe…” Mike said. “Ah, quit stalling and lets go already!” Rocket grabs the door knob and impatiently swings the door wide open. The university door lab could be seen, that meant the door went without being touched and no one had noticed. This took Mike and Sulley by surprise but they were thankful of it. Rocket dawned a cheeky smile. “Well monstermen, this is our destination, time to part! Everyone else shouts out: “Yeah!” They all walking in together, hand in hand, entering the monster world. Change was on the horizon and adventure and good times was calling out their names. Their adventure had just begun.
**Author's Note:**
> So hey! Did you like this chapter? I know, I meant to post it sooner. Sorry it took me a while to transfer it from notebook to computer but I decided to put more effort into this one because I did not like how short the other two chapters I fist posted came out to be. After being inspired by other people’s fan fictions I wanted to create something that could match how epic theirs was or make it even better than what they have written if that is possible. But as always I hope you have enjoyed my story and keep staying sexy my darlings! I love you all so much! <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333OXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXO ^_^ |
95e2b85c568b4eb5b06a8af682cbb56c | ['8ff11a24ad674836a43d6a8e5a048298'] | "Yes," Bitty exhales. He presses his forehead to Jack's, his breathing shallow and ragged. And then they're kissing sloppily, Bitty slotting his hips against Jack's to the rhythm of the thundering bass.
Jack comes with Bitty's taste in his mouth, Bitty's weight in his lap, all his senses flooded with Bitty, Bitty, Bitty.
He opens his eyes and sees Bitty staring down at him, eyes dark and hungry. The music has changed again, and that's when Jack remembers that they're in a club, that they're in public, where anyone can see them. Instead of filling him with panic, it makes him thrum with adrenaline. It doesn't matter anyway; they're in one of the more shadowy corners, and everyone nearby is too wasted or too busy dancing to notice them.
Bitty moves faster, chasing his own release, until he's basically humping Jack's leg in the middle of a crowded club. He doesn't even complain when Jack cups his ass and drags him closer.
"Come for me, baby, please," he murmurs into Bitty's ear, and Bitty does, with a choked sob, burying his face in the crook of Jack's shoulder. Jack slides a hand to the back of Bitty's neck and presses kisses to the side of his face. His jeans are sticky and starting to chafe, but he doesn't want to move just yet.
Bitty digs his hands into Jack's shirt. "Ugh, Shitty will never let us hear the end of this. I promise that when we have our bachelor party, there won't be strippers."
"Okay," Jack agrees casually, but inside, he's flying. When, not if. When they get married. When they have a bachelor party. He hooks his chin over Bitty's shoulder and does his best not to break out in a goofy smile. "I just need you."
**Author's Note:**
> Ugh, I'm sorry, this was fluffier than I intended it to be. I promise, I'll write pure smut one day. Today is not that day.
>
> Find me on LINK. | 7cb95d81eeaa4a7aa08023a53c4d21cf | ['8ff11a24ad674836a43d6a8e5a048298'] | Tony stumbles into the kitchen of Stark tower one morning to find him calmly eating a bowl of cereal.
"How the hell did you get in here?"
Clint smiles through a mouthful of Lucky Charms. "You keep the door on the deck unlocked."
"Of course I do! It's fifty floors up! What did you do, fly?"
"Maybe," he says.
Tony has just made up his mind to throw the archer off the roof, breakfast and all, when Pepper wanders in. "Tony! Why didn't you say you were having friends over?"
"Um, no. No. This is not—"
"No, this is great! It's good. I'm glad you're making friends." She kisses him on the cheek on her way out. "I'll leave you two to whatever you superheroes do in your spare time."
"Want to try and get rid of me now?" Clint asks smugly when Pepper leaves.
Tony shoves him from his seat on the counter. "Just stick to the Cheerios. The Lucky Charms are mine."
* * *
. 4 .
* * *
Natasha comes back from her mission two days later, and it's only natural that she moves in, too.
Tony offers her the room she used to have as his PA, but she's hardly there. She has a habit of falling asleep in hidden, tucked-away places. In the closet, on top of the washing machine. Pepper nearly has a heart attack one morning when she finds Natasha on the window ledge.
* * *
. 5 .
* * *
When Thor comes back to earth, Tony throws up his hands and offers the god a place to stay. To hell with it, anyway.
By now, Stark tower has become Avengers tower – a New York City landmark and home to the world's most superhuman family.
* * *
. 0 .
* * *
"Shouldn't we fix the sign?" Pepper asks him one night over dinner.
"What, back to 'Stark'?" Tony asks. "No point, is there?"
The A stays.
So does the team.
And Tony think that maybe Yinsen was right. This was everything.
**Author's Note:**
> Join me on LINK so we can cry about Tony together. |
011071814c2948c5b4e4867331539b67 | ['900737fa42844d598ef180f7ab4584f3'] | A Lil' Star
My world’s a stage
I know this quite well
I’ve known since I was young
I’ve known before I could spell
“Put a smile on your face,”
They would all tell me,
“Hide your disgrace
This is mandatory.”
A star never frowns
A star is always bright
But what happens when
Another shines more light?
A blackness fills this lil’ star.
It wants to be loved,
Wants someone to listen,
For once to be though of
Tis’ truly the saddest tale,
That the star who laughs the most,
Who’s always there for you?
Is as present as a ghost
Behind those closed curtains
Trepidation grows
Watery eyes back again
Must go on with the show.
Distant cries call out
But no one can see
For if I hide my sorrow
I can live happily
This is what I’ve been told
Living a masquerade
Hiding deep inside
I’m done with this charade
When people turn away
I feel the void looming
I don’t want to exist
In a world where no one’s looking
Put on an act
Like the lil’ star I am
Must go above and beyond
But it’s all just a scam
My happiness is fake
It’s all a facade
How to feel valid
In my delicious mirage?
My mentality, you see
To be loved by others
To be better than them?
The thought suffocates, it smothers
But this is all I know
My world is a stage
I must be the star
Or be trapped in my cage
With this rich emptiness
The dark matter eats at me
Black holes stretch me thin
In my head, a loud bureaucracy
Ah, it seems time’s up
Look, the camera’s on
Hello, did you miss me viewers?
The name’s Mettaton
**Author's Note:**
> I like characters who hide their anguish by acting like sarcastic/egotistical assholes, because I relate. I have nothing else to say except that I'm sorry if this seems out of character. I just really attracted to Mettaton personality-wise? And now I'm pretty sure I'm projecting my own feelings into this. Ha, well it was fun either way. Hope you liked it! And if you did don't be afraid to leave a comment or kudos (or both) :D | 263fb8d3f7cc4e1d9094edc8d7854b29 | ['900737fa42844d598ef180f7ab4584f3'] | “I’m not the kind of person to talk to strangers,” he finally looks up, “This is really unusual for me, but I never want to leave an issue unresolved. I don’t want you leaving with the impression that I’m unforgiving. I also don’t want you paying for another drink when you already bought it and weren’t the one who wasted it, So, I bought coffee. It’s sweet. I don’t like sweets, so if you don’t take it, it will be a waste all over again.”
Shouto laughs to himself and shakes his head. _This day just won’t end, huh?_ Bewilderment is an understatement. If only Fuyumi were here to see this _character_ of a human being.
“You’re unnecessarily incessant,” Shouto admits. Against his better judgement he accepts the cup, lightly gripping it in his right hand. He inspects it carefully, checking for any signs of contamination. “If I’m poisoned I swear on my soul I will haunt you.”
A light pink colors his freckled cheeks and his eyes widen so much his eyebrows disappear under his green bangs. Almost out of nowhere he starts laughing with tears in his eyes. He covers his mouth to hide it, but to no avail. In turn, Shouto raises an eyebrow, wondering what happened to elicit such a reaction.
“I was right. You are a character,” his emerald eyes meet Shouto’s, who is quickly becoming uncomfortable with the direct eye contact.
Shouto whips his head away, warmth enveloping his cheeks. He takes a sip of the coffee and instantly regrets it. Not only does he burn his tongue, the coffee is _not_ sweet in the slightest, it barely tastes like it has any sugar at all. He breathes through it. He can’t blame him for not knowing. He looks back at the man in front of him, avoiding his eyes this time and opting for in between his eyebrows instead, which are also spotted with freckles.
“Character?” Shouto whispers, “That’s one way of describing me I guess.” Coincidentally, he was just thinking the same for—
“Midoriya Izuku. My name,” the other smiles. “I know what you said earlier, but you deserve to at least know the name of the man that gave you your coffee.”
The amount of surprises this man has pulled in the span of a few minutes baffles Shouto. He is already ill-prepared for this journey he is on, and he hasn’t really anticipated the future in any way, but this moment right here is the pinnacle of it all. It will forever be cemented in his heart as the weirdest, most unexpected, and most absurd encounter he has ever had.
“I don’t need your name. I didn’t ask for it.”
“You don’t need it, but now you have it. Make with it what you will ‘ol sport,” the nickname at first appears out of left field, but when Shouto realizes it’s a subtle way to probe him for his name he doesn’t take the bait.
“What’s in this coffee?” Shouto asks.
“Two sugars and a cream.”
“Two sugars? Unlike you, I have an insatiable sweet-tooth. I’m not afraid to admit it.”
“I wasn’t going to—“
“But,” Shouto interrupts, “Since you so kindly offered me coffee, you might as well make it correctly.”
Midoriya froze, “W-what do you mean?”
“Come with me to the coffee booth and I’ll show you how it’s done,” he blurts out, crossing his arms while holding his drink.
“But why?” it’s Midoriya’s turn to be confused and question everything. Shouto debates whether or not it is cruel for him to find it satisfying — the answer is no.
“Because I don’t like when I owe people things. After I fix my drink, you’ll come with me and I’ll buy you a meal.”
Midoriya pauses before making an array of hand gestures so quickly that it looked like he was some sort of weird mime. Shouto tries telling him to stop but with no luck. Midoriya says a few words but always stops mid-thought, like he’s trying to find the _right_ one to convey how flabbergasted he is. Shouto is annoyed and just wants him to get on with it, but it’s not like they’re in a rush to go anywhere so he lets him continue his act — he eyes the outside and yup, still snowing.
Midoriya finally settles on, “Unnecessary.” He scratches the back of his head, “It’s really nothing, I promise. You backed me up earlier, and now I’ve given you a drink. We’re even.”
“Except, I don’t think so. I didn’t really do anything earlier that you probably wouldn’t have done, so. I _insist_.”
“Are you using my words against me?” Midoriya gawks.
“That’s neither here nor there.”
“That seems pretty here and there.”
Shouto analyzes Midoriya Izuku. Now he has a name to a face. Will he remember this face a few years down? Who knows. The answer is likely no. His wit almost matches Shouto’s — almost. The only issue is that he’s an enigma who’s hard to read. Otherwise, maybe Shouto would even enjoy his company. That’s a strong maybe though because he can barely talk to Momo for an hour without getting socially exhausted let alone make a new friend.
“You gave me your name and a coffee,” Shouto says. “With the latter I can simply drink it, done and done. Why did you give me the former? Your full name at that. You don’t just give that information away especially in this day and age where it can be used against you.”
“I don’t think you’re the type of guy who would.”
“I think you’re misreading me.”
“And I knew you were misreading me as soon as I sat down. We both don’t really know each other, we can only make assumptions.” |
829371c1a5bb43da8bde774e1ff7f2f3 | ['902865446db84503ba952813d7966b3b'] |
Lesson One, Rule Three
**Author's Note:**
> This is the product of headcanons that got out of hand and a session of simultaneous writing on a shared GoogleDoc. Enjoy.
>
> Feel free to come play on Tumblr! LINK, LINK
>
Bucky Barnes had learned long, long ago that there was just about no way of talking Steve Rogers out of something when he’d set his mind to it. It was sometimes a quite endearing trait, which made Bucky smile, chest swelling with fierce pride as Steve stood his ground and did the right thing, the good thing. Other times it made Bucky want to groan and bury his face in his hands, muttering _“Steve, no,”_ like it was going to make a blind bit of difference. Here in the bright new future that he’d somehow stumbled into, he was finding that it was mostly the latter, because most of Steve’s determined ideas involved getting Bucky to _do things,_ apparently for his own good and emotional wellbeing.
Bucky was not a pushover and did hold a certain degree of immunity against Steve’s puppy dog eyes and the determined jut of his chin, so when Steve decided that Bucky needed to join the team - the whole team, the team of goddamn _superheroes_ \- for dinner, his initial response was a frank and flat _‘hell no.’_
He then endured six weeks of casual suggestion, several motivational speeches, countless reassurances and one downright underhanded bit of emotional manipulation before he gave in and and agreed to join the team for one of their stupid dinners.
He’d tried. He’d dug his heels in and tried, but the moment that Steve recruited Sam onto "team bully Bucky into doing dumb stuff because he thinks it’s a swell idea" his resolve started to crumble. It was an utter dick move on Steve’s part, mostly because Bucky _liked_ Sam. He was just so rational and easy going and _cool_ , and despite everything that had happened, he’d been nothing but accepting of Bucky. To Bucky’s alarm, he’d found that the jerk was almost as difficult to say no to as Steve was.
Not that he’d admit it to Steve, but he was nervous. He’d spent so long being a bad guy that the thought of rubbing shoulders with people who saved the world for a living made his stomach tighten and set his teeth on edge. He could easily imagine how they’d all feel about him encroaching on the time they spent as a team; they probably wouldn’t say anything outright if Steve was there, but he could anticipate the wary glances, the raised eyebrows, the frowns that said more than words ever could.
No. Bucky was not entirely convinced. Actually, he was not remotely convinced because aside from how he felt about the situation, he’d met the rest of the so-called team in separate encounters and was already pretty sure they were insane. Putting them all together in one room for any extended period of time seemed like a dumb idea at best.
And yet, Thursday night came around and he found himself standing in the middle of the communal floor with his hands shoved in his pockets, ignoring Steve on principle and staring at what he assumed was the table. He was guessing it was the table, anyway, because he couldn’t actually see it past the frankly staggering amount of food that was already set out.
His mouth was already watering. He didn’t think he’d seen so much food in once place since...well, since ever.
He stared at Steve, hoping for some sort of explanation, but Steve was just walking over towards the sink and looking completely relaxed, as if this sort of feast was an everyday occurrence. “Wash up, dig in,” he said easily to Bucky. “Have anything you like, but if you’re partial to anything in particular you better move quickly-”
“Move quickly? What, like you’re gonna run out or something?” Bucky asked skeptically. “Have you seen the amount of food here?”
"Is there pizza? Tell me there's pizza." Appearing from nowhere, Clint edged past Bucky and Bucky took an immediate and reflexive step back, wondering A) where the hell Clint had come from and B) how he’d gotten so close without Bucky noticing.
Bucky tensed and waited, but to his surprise, Clint didn’t so much as glance at him. Instead, he made a beeline for the table, but only made a few steps before Steve grabbed him by the back of the shirt, stopping him in his tracks. “Wash up,” Steve said. “And no weapons at the table, you know the rule.”
“Aw, Cap,” Clint whined, but Steve seemed resolute.
“No weapons at the table. One rule, Clint.”
Clint groaned and began divesting himself of weapons: pistol, knives, taser, backup pistol, a brace of small throwing knives...That was an awful lot of weapons for a man who didn't even have any sleeves on his shirt. Bucky wasn't sure whether he should be approving or worried. Maybe both.
“Good choice, Legolas,” a voice said from behind them, and Bucky watched as Tony sauntered up, eyes on the phone in his hand and thumbs moving quickly over the keypad. “You heard Mama Rogers, no weapons at the dinner table.”
For the second time that evening, Bucky braced himself. Sure, Tony had been perfectly polite when Bucky had met him before - though he had expressed a worrying and potentially unhealthy level of interest in Bucky’s arm - but that didn’t mean that he would be cool with Bucky intruding on the team dinner. As he passed by, Tony looked up briefly and nodded at Bucky distractedly before going back to whatever he was doing on the little glass screen that was supposedly a phone. A little wrong-footed and slightly suspicious about the lack of negative reaction so far, Bucky edged a step closer to the table.
“No phones, either,” Steve said, and swiped the phone out of Tony’s grip. | 5c75d16af91843ee99a5fa839599cba3 | ['902865446db84503ba952813d7966b3b'] | "I'll remind you that you said that later," Steve said with a hint of a smirk, before he remembered Bucky was there and hastily schooled his face into something more neutral. Bucky watched him for a moment, but Steve very deliberately did not look back up, choosing instead to steal half the deck of cards from Tony, shuffling them to give his hands something to do.
Mildly exasperated with Steve's continuing policy of not being too queer when Bucky was around, Bucky gave up and instead turned his attention to the others. Clint and Sam were dividing poker chips into piles, chatting animatedly and swigging beer as they went. Natasha was sitting on the counter behind Clint and Sam, obviously intending to watch without playing. Thor reached into a cooler on the floor and offered Bucky a bottle of beer. "I believe that a drink or two will help this evening make much more sense," he explained, with apparent seriousness.
"Uh, I guess," Bucky agreed, taking it and flicking the cap off with his metal fingers.
Storm rolled his eyes. "Sure, if you're going to be a pussy and stick to beer all night. This is poker night, come on!"
Bucky stared at him. "Who the fuck is this joker?"
"Johnny Storm, pleased to meet you," the stranger said airily. "What, you're telling me none of these guys have mentioned me yet?"
"We had more important things to be talking about," Tony said. "Like which brand of dishwasher tablet to buy."
Bucky was beginning to get the impression that Tony was not over-impressed with Johnny Storm. For his part, Johnny didn't seem all that bothered.
Bucky dropped into the last empty seat at the table. "You're not playing?" he asked Natasha.
"Hell no, she's not playing," Clint said. "This is a friendly game. Natasha only plays poker when there's blood in the water."
"I'm pretty sure she won someone's soul last time," Tony mused, and Steve chuckled next to him. "I'm ninety percent sure it wasn't mine."
"Better check again," Natasha said. "Chips, anyone?"
"Of course," Thor said, and reached to take the bowl Natasha offered. "What is the wager tonight?"
"Fifty bucks in," Tony said promptly.
"I've got you covered, Buck," Steve said, tossing a handful of twenties on the table. Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but Clint was already pushing piles of chips across the table at them.
"Who you winning for?" Johnny asked Bucky. Momentarily thrown, Bucky looked at Steve.
"Oh, we play for charity," Steve said. "We each pick a cause, and whoever wins, they get the money for their charity. "I'm playing for the local arts center."
"There's an engineering endowment with my anonymous name on it," Tony supplied.
"The VA," Sam nodded, saluting Bucky with his beer.
Natasha poked Clint's shoulder with her toe until he shrugged and admitted, "The local Avalon shelter."
"Tonight, my winnings are for the children's hospital we visited last week," Thor put in.
"Your winnings?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "Is that what my hard earned dollars already are?"
"One should approach a contest of skill with confidence," Thor said, grinning.
"You do realise you're playing against a table of soldiers and spies," Tony said matter of factly. "And you have been cleaned out every time we've played."
Thor shrugged. "Maybe my luck starts tonight."
"You think it's anything to do with luck?" Tony asked. "You know what, I don't care. You feel lucky, you go for it, big guy."
Bucky raised his eyebrows at Tony. "Not going to tell us about the math of probability?"
Tony snorted. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Math is banned from poker night," Steve said, sending Tony a warning glance. Tony simply batted his eyelashes at Steve, an innocent look on his face.
"Would I ever try and cheat you, my Captain?"
"Yes," Steve said flatly.
"Please," Tony said. "I know the penalties for cheating."
"And they are?" asked Natasha.
"Sleeping on the couch," Tony replied promptly. "Not worth it."
Bucky raised an eyebrow, just enough. Predictably, Steve ignored him and looked down at the table in front of him, ears going a telltale shade of pink.
"Are we going to flirt or play cards?" Clint demanded. "Deal, already."
Tony obliged, and the game began. It didn't take Bucky long at all to ascertain that there was a definite range of skill around the table, from the practiced veterans (Tony) to the downright hopeless (Sam) and everything else inbetween. Steve appeared to be playing casually, but Bucky could sense a very Captain-America edge of determination about him, so wasn't going to write him off just yet. Besides, he'd played poker with Steve countless times before and knew that he wasn't above playing dirty if the occasion called for it.
Sam's tells were the easiest to read -- he had almost no control at all over his face or his breathing. Bucky thought at first that Tony was almost as easy, but it didn't take long to learn that some of Tony's tells were deliberately misleading, which was almost as hard to decipher as Clint's stony expression. Johnny was just as hard to work out, because most of the time he wasn't even looking at the table, choosing instead to drink and flirt dangerously with Natasha. Bucky couldn't work out if he was genuinely not paying attention, or if it was all a very deliberate act to make himself seem incompetent.
By the third deal, Bucky found he was actually starting to relax and enjoy himself. The beer and scotch were flowing, everyone seemed completely at ease, and there was just enough chatter going on that Bucky didn't feel obliged to constantly join in or make forced conversation. It suited him fine; he found he could sit back and watch the others, learning from observing just as he tended to do at mealtimes. |
0f68fb46a7fc4792bb376034406bec3a | ['902b201e4dbf47d0bc8295c7892b691b'] | Soon enough they approached the main pond, basking in the full glory of the view. Cherry blossom trees lined the shore, branches swaying in the soft breeze and releasing petals across the park; ducks swam in large groups across the water, happily quacking amongst each other as they went about their day. It was a calm beauty before them and even as a child, Osamu could sense it.
The two found a place to set the blanket under one of the many sakura and sure enough, the stray had found his way to their spot and curled up for a nap as they settled in. Osamu giggled happily as he dragged the cat into his lap to love on. “Mama, he came~”
“He did, didn’t he?” Fukuzawa acknowledged his child with a smile as he started disassembling their lunch. “If I was a cat, I would also follow the cute little pup with all the food.”
Setting the boxes out for them to share the food, he also gave the child a cup filled with juice. “Don’t feed him too much, this is your lunch as well remember.”
Osamu nodded eagerly before shifting the cat in his arms to hold like a baby and feeding it a piece of fish from his lunch. “It’s too bad we couldn’t bring Father, we could have had lunch together as a family.” He remarked with bit of disappointment in his voice.
Fukuzawa’s movements faltered for a moment as the words sunk in, but quickly picked up where he left off as to not worry the child. Personally he was glad the young alpha had no interest in their family life and he hoped to keep it that way.
“It can’t be helped that your father is busy with work. He has very important jobs he has to take care after all. Perhaps one day when he’s not busy or tired we can.” He supplied, not wanting to dash the child’s hopes. Even if his father was a deadbeat, Fukuzawa was determined to give his child a happy, bright childhood.
The boy pondered over the thought as he ate his lunch, intermittently waggling a piece of fish for the cat to take. “Father is always so busy. He must be a really important person if he is always at work.” He noted, inquisitively. “Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy at home. He’s always tired.”
Deciding to leave the child to his whims, Yukichi directed his attention up to the trees, releasing his anxieties and stress as he basked in their beauty. Today was a day of relaxation and enjoyment, no worries about bills or housework or the wrath that was Mori Ougai. Only sakura, Osamu and good food.
The two kept idle chatter as they ate, playfully tossing a small handful of sakura petals at each other every once in awhile when the other would turn their gaze elsewhere. Osamu finished the majority of his meal and hopped up, plopping the cat down on the blanket carefully before brushing off his kimono. “Mama, may I go see the ducks?” He asked clearly, using his very best polite voice. “I promise I’ll stay on the path so I don’t fall in.”
“You may. Stay within my sight though, ok?” Fuku stipulated, though a soft smile broke through the formality of the words. “Enjoy yourself, my dear.”
Excited from the permission, Osamu took off down the path, making sure to be careful about his footing, but still filled with childlike joy. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but notice how big he had gotten as he traversed down the path, not only in size but also in maturity. It was a bittersweet moment as a parent, yet also a proud one seeing he was progressing in society with ease. Osamu was only 5, but he would have to stop referring to him as his baby soon; he was growing into a smart young boy and he deserved the respect of being treated as such.
Feeling a prod to his knee, Yukichi glanced down to notice the cat had found his was over to his side of the blanket, giving a soft mewl for attention. Of course he obliged the cat a place to lay and gave him a few good hearty pets, even treating him to a leftover piece of fish from their lunch.
“He ran off on you, didn’t he? My boy is starting to become so curious and he’s so sharp. You can’t really blame him when he finds something new that piques his interest, I hope you can forgive him.” Of course this was just a cat and there was no way it even knew what he was saying, but it was cathartic to talk to such a beautiful animal about his son. He was sure the cat at the very least held fond sentiment to Osamu for the love and food he received from him, so the conversation wasn’t completely odd, right?
Cat purring and laying against his lap, Fuku continued watching his pup dart up and down the many paths near the water as he pet on the feline. It was so picturesquely tranquil in that moment, he wished they could live in it forever. Osamu, the cat and himself. They could have a nice little family with no hardship or strife; Osamu would grow into a strong young man and find a mate of his own eventually. It would be a good life. Yet, this was an unrealistic pipe dream considering their livelihoods, especially now that Mori had started investing into Osamu, he couldn’t slip away quietly even if he wanted to now.
Letting out a deep sigh, his fingers carded into the cat’s fur.
“Perhaps I could convince him to let us own a cat… It would be a worthwhile effort for both Osamu and I. A growing boy needs a pet after all… At least one constant thing he can rely on in his life. Osamu deserves that much at least.” | d68c8a6a103b4f90a5d0a2c4a89c0b4a | ['902b201e4dbf47d0bc8295c7892b691b'] | No Longer Flawless
One bullet could change everything.
~~~
Sat upon the ground, my vision blurred,
Hands wet from - was it tears?
Was it blood?
The world was finally silent.
Dead silent.
Yet an echoing ring hauntingly played in the background of my mind.
How long have I been sitting here?
Everything spun around me.
Was this even reality anymore?
My gaze traveled the room, unable to distinguish my surroundings with haze plaguing my sight.
‘Til it dropped to the form in my lap.
Everything was suddenly crystal clear. The truth hit me like a freight train in that instant. I could no longer deny what I witnessed.
I had a feeling I knew before I even saw you. I could feel my soul fracturing before I had even stepped foot into the room.
You were gone.
Chest soaked crimson, face expressionless;
your hand still clutching the bandages taken from my head.
The agony I’d momentarily pushed aside re-seized my heart, making it near impossible to breathe.
How can it feel like a distant memory yet also a fresh wound?
What can one do when their reason for living perishes before their eyes?
It’s sorrowful to realize the truths of your life when it’s too late.
I should’ve tried harder to stop you.
I should’ve listened to the incessant tugging in my heart pulling me to you.
Our stringed destiny was severed the instant the bullet left the barrel, leaving me with an ugly, burnt, frayed end as you sunk into the dark beyond.
Perhaps this too could also be hidden beneath my bandages...
How funny that the world can keep spinning when your own comes crashing down.
But you entrusted me with something important.
Your precious, final words.
My world couldn’t completely cave in yet.
I stand, woefully eyeing the limp husk of a man before me. I can’t hesitate now.
But…
Is it really possible to save other lives, when you can’t even save the most important one? |
d1928d71dc0d43689952c11f9f2a13df | ['902e19aee185445c960fc02339f95f0b'] |
Follow Me Home
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
> This was inspired by, and written for, HerAwesomeShinyness, who had a wonderful idea, and let me make a fic out of it. Go check her out, she's really cool.
> This was beta read by the lovely elvntari, who you should also go and check out, especially The Curious Case of the Paternity of Ereinion Gil-galad, which I'm a little bit obsessed with.
Maeglin was not a fool. Young, perhaps, but not a fool.
The dark had been the worst part of all of it, but his insistence to himself that he would not fall so easily had held his resolve. He had compelled himself to remember the scrape of stone against his elbows. When they had taken him out of the dark and began the questions, Maeglin sought other memories. The blood against his mother’s white dress. The look in his father’s eyes. The truth of fear.
He would not be such a fool.
Maeglin expected they would hurt him, scare him, and then drag the truth out of him. The memories were his shield against it. He had not expected promises.
“I can make you great,” Morgoth had told him, “I can fulfil all your desires. I can give you anything in Gondolin that you want.”
Maeglin’s thoughts flickered to Idril. Bright and beautiful, though never when she looked at him. If there was anything in Gondolin that he wanted, it was her.
Blood on his hands, he reminded himself. Blood on his hands that should of been his. The truth of fear. The truth of _ love _ . If there was anything in Gondolin he wanted, it was his mother.
“No, you can’t.”
“Be reasonable. Gondolin will not stand forever. If you join with me now, you will survive it. You will rise above its ashes.”
“Fuck off.”
Morgoth had blinked. It was the only indicator of surprise, but Maeglin took courage from it. If he could surprise him, he could survive him. Would his mother be proud? Maeglin hoped so.
“It’s sweet; that you care so much about Gondolin. Do they care so much about you, I wonder? No one is searching for you. None would risk so much.”
Maeglin had suppressed his urge to laugh at this. While no one was supposed to leave Gondolin, he had made something of a habit of it. Days — and even weeks — spent out in the mountains, looking for metals and rocks; everyone was used to it. Perhaps they didn’t all approve, but it didn’t surprise them anymore. _ Of course _ no one was searching for him.
“When you go back, they won’t care about you. And when that happens, you know where to find me, even if I don’t know where to find you,” Morgoth had Maeglin’s head in his grasp by that point, tilting it upwards to make him meet his gaze, “How’s that for a deal?”
“I like the when.”
“I thought you would.”
Morgoth’s grip on his head had grown tighter and tighter. Maeglin had been just about to cry out when he released his hold. The cuffs on Maeglin’s wrists had fallen off on to the floor, leaving him with the startling realisation that he had been set free.
“Run home, little elf, and see how they greet you.”
Maeglin had run.
* * * * *
Looking back, it seemed almost like Morgoth had wanted him to reach Gondolin with as little trouble as possible. Despite being undefended and completely vulnerable, he travelled without incident. The eyes of invisible watchers often prickled across his back, but he drowned the thoughts of being followed in a strange pool of calm that had welled up in his mind.
The only things he couldn’t drown were the dreams.
The memories he had used to shield himself turned against him again. He dreamed time and time over of his mother’s death. It was almost as though Lórien was trying to warn him of something. Maeglin dismissed that thought. So long as he got back to Gondolin, everything would be fine.
It didn’t stop them from making every part of his body shake. It didn’t stop him from staying awake to try and avoid them.
Sometimes he dreamed that he was still trapped in the dark —t hat all the terrible things he’d feared Morgoth would do to him had come true. Those were harder to recover from, if easier to forget.
A rhythm set itself up. Maeglin travelled only by day, protected by what light from the sun could make it down to him. When night came and the moon rose, he fended off sleep for as long as he had the control to. Then, he suffered through the dreams. Some nights, he got so little sleep he was convinced he was beginning to hallucinate.
The first time was easily dismissed. Out of the corner of his eye, Maeglin saw what looked like an orc scout. In the time it took for him to blink and turn his head, it had disappeared. Just a tired mind, he reasoned. There was no cause for alarm. The cause for alarm came later. He was coming down a pass when his mind summoned up an entire group of orcs. Maeglin scrabbled around for something, anything, to use as a weapon. The rock in his hand kicked up dust when it hit the ground again. There no were orcs anywhere.
Certain that he was half mad, Maeglin stumbled through the mountains, barely trusting his eyes to tell him where to go. If he could invent groups of orcs that disappeared like smoke when he approached them, he couldn’t trust himself. Alone with only his thoughts, he began to spiral. | 53d86bc309d74596a0b8b854cefc7fa5 | ['902e19aee185445c960fc02339f95f0b'] | Celegorm was a hunter, but that didn’t have to make him a monster.
The tapestries could not teach him about what he had become. So he lay down on the floor and looked at the ceiling and began to work it out for himself.
The ceiling had no tapestries, but it didn’t need one. It had a carving instead. No scene of violence, no ugly act rearing its head to drag remorse from him. It was a picture of him, back before he’d even left Aman. Celegorm vaguely recognised it. One of Caranthir’s drawings, maybe. It looked like his style.
He was smiling, and he looked so _ young _ . Celegorm wasn’t looking at himself, though. Next to him, profile as grand as ever, was Huan. There was a breeze ruffling up Celegorm’s hair and the hound’s coat, but neither of them seemed to mind. Unbidden, a tear came to Celegorm’s eye. He missed that dog.
He was so engrossed in the picture, that he didn’t notice when one of the doors opened, and the tapestry of Eluréd and Elurín was pulled up. He didn’t even notice when the visitor sat down next to him, following his gaze upwards.
It was hard to miss when he spoke, though.
“Curufin told me what happened to him.”
Celegorm shot up, looking the visitor directly in the eye. Fëanor looked back at him, solemn and sad and loving all at once.
“I’m sorry. I know you loved Huan a lot.”
Celegorm shrugged, unsure of what to say. His father was right, of course, but his sadness was more than just missing Huan. He knew he deserved it, in the end, that Huan had gone with those far more deserving of him. How do you explain to your father that you deserved to be abandoned by your own dog? Celegorm had never been good at explaining things to his father anyway.
“They said he could only be killed by the greatest wolf that ever lived. We were going to hunt that wolf together. I wasn’t even there,” Celegorm began.
Fëanor took Celegorm’s hand in his. He didn’t seem to be inclined to speak, which only prompted Celegorm to say more.
“None of the words that he was supposed to say were for me. I deserved it. I was so angry when he left that I couldn’t understand _ why _ . I did a lot of awful things.”
“We all did awful things.”
True as it may be, Celegorm shook his head. He needed his father to understand, even if he was inevitably going to ruin the explanation. Part of him didn’t want his father to think less of him for all he had done. A different part of him knew that he couldn’t lie about it. Celegorm, out of all of his brothers, had understood what they had become. If he wanted to feel better about it, he couldn’t just curl up against his father.
There was a difference, though, between knowing the truth about yourself and admitting it to another.
“I did worse things than all of you. I got Curufin to help me do them. I deserved to lose Huan’s company. He went on to do greater things than I.”
“And you think that you’re irredeemable because of it.”
“I think that we’re all irredeemable, and that I’m the only one willing to admit it. It’s not about redemption anyway.”
“No?”
“It’s,” he hesitated, “doing better, if we get the chance. No one’s going to come and make us into better people. We have to do it ourselves. I betrayed just about everything I’d ever learnt, and then refused to admit it. I’m better at that now. The others need the comfort. They spent too much time thinking on their choices. I didn’t spend enough.”
“I think you’ve spent long enough by now. This isn’t like you.”
“What, thinking?”
“No,” Fëanor seemed both amused and serious, “being so still and solemn. You told me once that you thought best while moving, while doing. Introspection is healthy, but too much makes you a shadow of who you were.”
“I didn’t think you’d know so much about thinking things through,” Celegorm muttered, the old defiances springing up easily upon his tongue.
Fëanor’s face went through several emotions. First, irritation, then relief, and finally joy. Celegorm wanted to laugh. Normally, saying such things to his father would get him in a world of trouble, but nothing was normal anymore. If his father felt glad that Celegorm was being rude again, Celegorm would not begrudge him it.
“I’ve had plenty of time to learn and practise the art of thinking. It would have been more use earlier, but, as you said, we must do better now.”
Celegorm did laugh at that. The whole situation was becoming so strange that he couldn’t do anything but laugh. He and his father agreeing wholeheartedly on something, without even the barest hint of an argument. It hit Celegorm quite suddenly how much he had missed his father. Fëanor seemed to sense this, and took his hand. Celegorm watched it like it was a stranger holding a stranger’s hand, and remembered the last time someone had held his.
_ Curufin’s grip had weakened as Celegorm watched. He had tried so very hard to hold on to both of their lives, all the while trying very hard to avoid thinking of Caranthir. Moryo had not had anyone there to hold his hand. _
Fëanor moved to pull away, but Celegorm held on tighter. He wouldn’t be left alone again.
“Do you want to come and see your brothers?”
Celegorm stilled. He very much wanted to see them again, but the Maiar had made it clear that he wasn’t meant to see anyone.
“Am I allowed?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m not technically supposed to be here, so I don’t think they’ll stop us.”
“You defied Mandos?” It did sound like something his father would do. |
5ec5e52970514d6db804694c5298590e | ['9039665f25794f76a1f32bb29139359f'] | Jon never got the chance to finish his sentence on explaining that he had only come there for her, to make that night about her only. Daenerys got off the bed and pushed him up against the wall, getting to her knees. She pulled him out of his breeches, yanking them down his thighs, all while Jon plastered himself there against the wall in anticipation.
There was no resisting. It was too impossible.
Jon groaned as soon as her mouth hit him. He stirred around against the wall, the slow sucking relaxing him, her tongue swirling. Jon was afraid to touch her, to disrupt the balance, but he let go of any hesitation and let his hand fall into her hair.
“Fuck,” he muttered, breathless.
When she removed her mouth and Jon opened his eyes, he didn’t think he was even going to be able to see straight. Daenerys was driving him mad in the best possible way, pushing him far enough to the edge that he just needed a small push to fall over.
She knew it.
She used it to her advantage.
Daenerys pulled him over to the bed again. He laid there on his back as Daenerys shifted upward and mounted him, easing down onto him before his mind had realized what had happened. “Dany,” he moaned, not even sure why he had shortened her name like that, but it was all he could muster.
With the way she moved, she was some kind of goddess, he decided. His hands pressed firmly against her hips, the softness of her skin making him hardly able to control any part of himself. He knew then that it would become a regular nighttime affair, the two of them not able to deny themselves the other.
3. Westeros
It was a wonderous thing being there as Daenerys set foot on Dragonstone once again, the sandy beaches awaiting her return. The last time she was there she was only baby girl, just born. She fled to a life that no child should have, then returned with an army, three dragons, wealth, and powerful allies.
And Jon—whatever he might count as.
The first day they landed, Dany took the day to explore the castle. The rest of them stayed back and let her presence fill all the halls and rooms that she travelled to, examining her home, her ancestral seat.
Dragonstone.
It was magnificent.
The castle was like nothing Jon had ever seen, uniquely different in all aspects possible. From inside, the echo of the dragons bounced off the walls. They knew they were home, yet Dany told Jon later that it did not feel much like a home to her. It made him want to take her to Winterfell, to show her his own home.
_One day soon_ , he reminded himself. They had to take it one step at a time.
—
Jon was surprised by how Daenerys was not wanting to hide him. There was a room set up for Jon if he wanted it, but he stayed with Dany instead. It became public knowledge, yet Tyrion seemed the only one who was hesitant.
It irritated Jon, but he understood. Strategically, it was a bad idea to have Jon by her side. Then again, Jon wondered if Daenerys was even going to venture to take a husband when she was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
She could do it all on her own, an attractive quality to Jon.
So, when he saw her there, watching her sit down on the carved out throne at Dragonstone, it reaffirmed everything for Jon. She belonged there. She _was_ the Queen.
It was particularly unnecessary of him to kneel down and offer his sword to her once again, but in that moment, it felt like the right thing to do. She rose out of the throne, walking towards him until she knelt down to his level, forcing him to the ground, kissing him roughly.
“Where have you been all this time?” she mumbled as he kissed down her neck.
Jon took her right there in the throne room, the guards on the outside of the door probably getting an earful.
—
Something else that surprised him was how much Daenerys had grown to trust him and his judgement in such a short amount of time. There was a strong connection there that had developed unexpectedly on both their parts. Neither could explain it and neither felt the need to. It was there and they knew it, felt it, and moved with it.
“We would be splitting the army” Tyrion mentioned carefully, trying to plan strategically when Sansa mentioned that Daenerys take the North and work her way to the southern lands.
There around the map of Westeros, everyone was there. Lady Olenna Tyrell, Ellaria Sand, Tyrion, Varys, Missandei, Grey Worm, Brienne, Sansa, and Jon. Even Ghost was in the corner, not leaving Jon’s side.
“It’s true, you would be splitting your army,” Jon interrupted, “ _and_ you would be forcing them to be splitting theirs too.” He shifted his eyes to Daenerys. “Force them to fight on two fronts, in the north and the south. They won’t be able to withstand it for long without reinforcements. If you cut off their access to the sea, they are sitting ducks.”
“He speaks the truth,” Ellaria commented, happy with the plan, examining Jon from across the table.
Jon felt a bit bad for having to stomp on Tyrion’s plan, but Jon was smart enough to know how war worked. “You can’t send Lady Olenna back without part of an army either. I understand Casterly Rock is valuable,” he said to Tyrion as he spoke, “but do you really think that Jaime and Cersei are going to just allow the Tyrells to declare war on them and leave them be?”
“Finally, somebody said it,” Lady Olenna sighed. She put two elbows down onto the table and pointed at Jon. “You should keep this one around.” | 90482a793fc24a3e9db4122d543a38e5 | ['9039665f25794f76a1f32bb29139359f'] | She nodded along, still lingering. Kate’s eyes were searching his and time seemingly came to a standstill and his world focused in on Kate like she was the only thing left (and in a way she was). Her green orbs were being overtaken by the dark circle in the middle, alluding to her attraction. Seth was sure that his own eyes had been completely dilated by that point and there was no way it was anything but that.
It was a stalemate, both locked into place, waiting for one of them to make a move. Seth dared to gaze at her lips for only a moment, which prompted Kate to push up onto her toes and press her torso lightly against him, Seth’s arm automatically wrapping around her waist to keep her steady. Her lids shut and then so did his, growing closer, lips brushing until a knock at the door made Seth jump back like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The maid opened the room and let them know they had to be out of there in ten minutes or they were getting charged for another night. The pair packed up their shit and hit the road, pretending like nothing had happened.
—
He knew the look, that stupid ass look of entitlement, like he could just grab any girl in there and have the right to do it. Seth saw how the man’s hand reached out to brush up against Kate’s lower back pinch her ass but Seth was too quick with his reflexes. One punch, a crack to the face, with the speed and swiftness of a snake going in for a bite, and the guy was on the ground with blood gushing out his nose at a satisfying rate.
His hand should have hurt like a motherfucker, but ended up mostly numb from the thrill of knocking him to the ground. Kate automatically dropped the words he didn’t want to hear. “What was that for?”
He grabbed her hand and went for the door of the bar, car keys in his hand ready to go, Kate trailing behind him to keep up once outside into the night. “For thinking for even a second he could touch you,” Seth sneered. “He deserved that.”
“You punched him,” she recalled, like she was trying to make sure that even though it had all happened so fast, that her eyes weren’t betraying her and indeed it had actually just happened.
Seth flung open the car door and ushered Kate in, turning back to see a few men gathering by the door looking on before hopping on into the car himself. “Believe me, he’s lucky he didn’t get a bullet to the junk.”
They sped off on the dirt road out of there and only when they were far enough away with no sign of anyone following them did Kate giggle. Seth threw a glance over at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Just you,” she contently sighed. “Getting all protective.”
“I’ve _always_ been protective of you,” he inadvertently dismissed her previous statement because it sounded like it was all of a sudden that he decided to care and protect her. That had always been the case, it was just different now, in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge quite yet.
Kate went silent, staring at him without any shame as the bumps in the road shifted her body around in her seat. “I know,” she genuinely answered. “It’s just amplified nowadays.”
“You’re all I got.”
The words never meant to spill out so easily, as if he said them all the time.
With every breath of silence from her, Seth grew more self-conscious, the words he had said replaying over in his mind. The vulnerability was showing again.
“Pull over.”
He did and sat there with the feeling like he had opened a can of worms he wasn’t supposed to. But Kate reached for his hand that was rested on the gear shift, taking it off gradually and wrapping her small, delicate hands around his. “You’re all I have, too.”
It caused Seth to swallow hard, shaking his head somewhat. “Kate,” he warned, knowing that they were diving into uncharted territory.
“Don’t,” she responded, closing her eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
He stayed quiet for a few beats longer until her thumb stroking his rough hands started to evoke some things he hadn’t felt before. “Why did you get in the car with me?” he asked out of the blue. It had been a question that had been clawing at him for a while and he needed to know the answer.
Confused, Kate tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“ _You want some company?_ ” he mimicked the words said to him months prior as he had strolled out of the bar. “Why did you come with me? Why did that even cross your mind?”
“You were my best option, I guess.” He gave her a look and then she altered her statement. “Okay, maybe not the _best_. I could have gone home but…I didn’t want to go. Too many memories to consume my brain there. It would have hurt too much. And there’s nothing in Bethel anyways. My family is dead and, well, despite everything, I felt safe with you. So I got in the car and didn’t look back.”
Seth appreciated the honesty from her. Hearing all of her thoughts made his insides churn together and the feeling of guilt sunk in and loomed with the idea of making him miserable for all his past actions.
“I lost everything and all there was left was you.” Before he could think of something to say, Kate interrupted the silence again, asking for his own confession. “You wanted me to get in that car with you. Why?” |
64f45dbe9e774d05bb9218f1e76ff867 | ['90526233ac684c3fa0b98e1105ba1db7'] |
Remainder and Reminders
**Author's Note:**
> Original Date: 2013
>
> Notes: I love Krystal and think she deserves way better so this was an experiment with some headcanons to try and give her a proper backstory. It switches between flashbacks and speaking with a Krazoa.
>
> Reasons for abandonment: My memory being shot means I completely forgot what I was doing with this. I hope it still makes at least a little sense.
>
> Also Star Fox Adventures is a great game and I will fight you on this. The world building was a HUUUUUGE inspiration to me as a kid and I still play it every few years or so.
>
>
>
> LINK
_The world you once knew is no more. That is not our doing. The true culprit of its destruction still haunts your mind to this very day, despite his termination. While you have found somewhere new to call home and met others to call your family, you cannot erase the memories of where you once came from, of what you had witnessed. Is that not correct?_
" _Yes. That is correct."_
"Phew!" Slippy heaved a great sigh as he wiped off the few droplets of sweat that had collected on his forehead. "That marks another mission done!"
"Hold your applause," Falco, his teammate, spat out. "It ain't worth celebrating 'til we know the pay is good." The bright silver and blue of Star Fox's Arwing fleet glistened in the reflection of the distant sun as they hovered in front of a slew of metal rubble they had just caused. An enemy fleet had threatened the safety of a distant planet, to which the team had immediately taken its call. To the crew of experienced members, stopping the enemy was no threat to them…and yet, there was something about this mission that made Krystal feel uneasy.
"Hey, Krystal," the falcon dragged out over Krystal's communicator. The vixen shook her head as she realized her mind had slipped deep into her thoughts, apparently making her blind and deaf of her surroundings for a few moments. "Look, I know follow-the-leader's a pretty dull game, but we have to get back to the Great Fox," Falco continued. Krystal nodded, her braids bouncing with the weight of their decorative beads.
"Yes, I…sorry," she simply replied, boosting her Arwing to catch up with the rest of her team, who were far ahead of her due to the Arwing's quick speed at this point.
"You ok, Krystal?" Fox asked, his tone a mix of worry and confusion. Krystal once again reiterated her condition, brushing off the thoughts that were in her mind and keeping them secret.
_Though the purpose of your capture has been explained to you before, you still do not fully comprehend. You wonder why your planet was destroyed, and whether or not it was truly an accident, a coincidence, that you were left as its only survivor?_
" _Yes."_
"Aww yeah!" The echoes of cheer filled the bridge of the Great Fox as the team's pay had been delivered to them. It was a substantial amount, one they were not expecting, and ideas began to flow around the room at what to do with it.
"This gives us more than enough money to upgrade the Arwings," Falco exclaimed, rolling his feathered hand over the credits.
"How about the Landmaster?" Fox quipped, stepping closer to his partner. "It's still not fully up to date after those eight years of stripping it for parts just to get by."
"Now everyone, I know you're getting excited, but the money is going to the Great Fox," Peppy commented from the back. "Now that we're back in business, we'll be getting a lot more calls, I'm sure, but you can't have all your fancy upgrades if your mother ship is still falling apart."
"You talking about yourself, gramps, or you talking about the Great Fox?" Falco asked sarcastically, shooting a smirk to their nearly-retired team mate. It had been merely but a few months since Fox had stopped the destruction of Dinosaur Planet, and with the news of that successful mission, along with the fact that Falco had rejoined, they were back to being respected—and needed—as much as the glory days. The boys had told Krystal about their old war stories, previous missions they've done and other planets they've saved, as well as teach her everything she knew about being part of the team. While she was no stranger to space travel and combat, their Cornerian technology was far different than her native Cerinian. Krystal left the team to argue over their payment, once again falling into the thoughts that clouded her mind before.
_Perhaps you already know that you possess a great power. You are but somewhat aware of your abilities to sense thoughts and entities, but you have never known why that is._
" _Yes."_
"You ok, Krystal?" The vixen's hands were wrapped around a cup of tea Fox had made for her; though it seemed like he handed it to her minutes ago, the steam that lifted from it had decimated, the heat of the cup having lessened into a somewhat cool state. Krystal's eyes snapped up to realize Fox was standing next to her, his expression clearly showing concern for her. "You haven't even taken a sip of your tea yet." Krystal let out a weak nod, her gaze returning back to the cup in her hands. Fox didn't seem to be fooled, and Krystal wasn't expecting him to be.
"Earlier today, back on that mission," her companion began, placing himself on the seat next to her. "You weren't doing your best. You seemed…lost." Krystal turned to face him, her aqua eyes matching up with the emeralds that made up his.
"I suppose it's obvious, isn't it?" she questioned, a fake laugh slipping from her mouth. "Something's been bothering me." Fox gave a weak nod. | c223a627218c4a92b9744a4052242aff | ['90526233ac684c3fa0b98e1105ba1db7'] | Three months had passed since Chris's debriefing. Not a single trickle of evidence to Piers being alive, or his whereabouts, had been discovered since then. The days seemed to drag on, Chris's apprehension to the situation most likely being the culprit for it. Nightmares plagued his sleep at night, and his memories haunted him by day. The soldier spent an especially long time in the shower that morning, one arm pressed against the wall, his head resting against it. He hardly so much cleaned himself as he did just stand there, hoping the water would somehow erase the thoughts that followed him. It wasn't as therapeutic as he'd hoped.
A bottle of Jack Daniel's remained in his quarters. Though technically it was against the BSAA's regulations to store alcohol in agents' rooms or have them drink while they were there—a simple matter of safety precaution—Chris had snuck it in there a while ago. Only a fourth of the bottle remained, the rest of it having been consumed in some other nights long ago. He didn't used to be so much of a drinker, but his time wandering bars in Eastern Europe and trying to drink his wages, bringing a strike of amnesia with it, made him appreciate its prowess. Well, maybe not so much prowess as it was controllable destruction. Chris dried himself off and threw on some fatigues, then sat down on his bed and stared at the cabinet where the Jack resided. He sat there in silence for a few minutes, decisions running through his head. _I don't need it_ , he tried to convince himself. _I shouldn't need it._ His emotions were still stirring in his mind, his complete desperation from losing his entire team once more, and this time his partner, being held back by a mental wall that was slowly breaking down as each day passed with no more information. Though he still continued his missions, Chris only did so because he felt he owed it to Piers to take back his word of his retirement like he had asked. He was slowly getting past not having Piers as his second-in-command anymore, but Chris feared every mission that he would come back alone. The BSAA captain got up and walked toward the cabinet, digging out the bottle of Jack, and momentarily stared at it in his hand. _Piers wouldn't want this._ He'd be damned if the liquid bronze wouldn't feel good down his throat right now, but he knew it was too easy to spiral back into the mess he was in but a few months ago.
"You know you shouldn't drink that during work hours."
Chris was alarmed at the sudden intrusion to his thoughts. Were he in any other situation he would probably stow the bottle back in shame, but he hardly had much of a care anymore for what people would think of him as he was grieving. He looked up and noticed a woman at the door, her face all too familiar and yet completely unexpected.
"Jill?"
His longtime partner smiled at him, her figure cloaked in blue like she always was. She was leaning against his door, arms crossed, as though she had been there all this time. Since her escape from Wesker in Africa, the BSAA had agreed to letting her retake her old position, but only if she had undergone retraining, rehabilitation, and a psychiatric evaluation. They wanted to be sure that any traces of the mind-controlling virus had been completely dispelled, and that there was no possibility that she would relapse or unconsciously continue to support the efforts of Wesker, despite Chris and Sheva having completely terminated both the man and his plans those years ago. Her mind had also muddled from her capture and forced attack on her old friend, creating a form of PTSD that took years of slow progression back into her military lifestyle before she was comfortable in combat again. Chris had kept in contact with Jill regularly, even visiting her when they would allow it at times, until the situation in Edonia made him completely disappear for several months. He had been so caught up in his own recovery upon his return that he had neglected to keep up with her. Surprised, yet delighted to see her, he asked her, "When did you get back?" Jill smirked, then walked over to him.
"Just now, actually. They debriefed me about the whole situation in China." She stopped just in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and staring right in his eyes. She leaned into him and gave him a hug, and after some hesitation Chris put down the bottle of Jack and returned the embrace. Unprofessional, perhaps, but he needed the support. They separated and she locked eyes with his, her gaze bright but her expression serious. "They told me about Piers. I am so sorry." The apology was genuine, and Chris knew she was speaking from experience. He was in a lot of pain when she was presumed dead as well, but at least at that point he wasn't trying to recover from a dark place in his life. If he lost her right after his disappearance from Edonia, he probably would have tried to drink away his memory then as well. "If you ever want to talk about anything, let me know." Chris left her without a comment.
"So…" He tried to find words to continue the conversation. "Are they letting you back in yet?" He put the bottle back in its hidden place in the cabinet, untouched. Jill nodded, although she let out a slight sigh. |
9edf9a19197d497691ff48e50ee8f6c2 | ['90617654e6c545c0b8ab7f1b0054bcf7'] | Hands firmly grip his shoulder and his eyes shoot open but he doesn't see the garage anymore, its now the bathroom where King Jellybean had tried to.. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME" Morty yells quickly jumping to his feet then hitting Ricks desk as he tries to run. He falls on his butt and starts hyperventilating. He curls up in a ball and tightly shuts his eyes. 'Its happening again and I won't make it out' Mortys mind screams. "-orty...to calm down...need... breathe" he hears a distorted voice distantly.
Morty's eyes shoot open and he gasps for air as he feels something cold splash on him. Hes sitting in the garage floor and Rick stands over him, eyes wide with worry- something extremely out of character for Rick- and a dripping glass upsidedown in his hands. Morty still feels like he can't move (except for his intense shaking) and Rick must've noticed because the old man bends down and picks Morty up and carefully setting him on his lab table. "Morty, I'm going to take off your pants now. Don't freak out." Rick carefully says. Morty nods his head slightly to show he heard but other then that, he stays motionless with the exception of his trembling hands.
Rick unbuttons the kids pants and slides them down his legs. He gasps loudly when he sees the mess of his grandsons thighs. Theyre covered in dozens upon dozens gashes, old and new and god knows how many more scars. Many are bleeding heavily, ripped open by the jean fabric rubbing against them from running earlier.
"How long?" Rick asks before thinking. He feels a feeling he hasn't felt in a long time and that he never missed.
Fear. Fear of his grandson killing himself. Fear of being unable to help. Fear of Morty's abilty to hide this for so damn long.
"O-oh geez I duno... I-I think l-like uh.. a year or so before y-you moved in?" Morty whispers, looking away in shame. "N-no-nobody e-ever knew... o-or cared e-enough. It made me f-feel better a-and th-thats all I-I wanted." Tears are welling up in his eyes but none come out.
Rick is silent in shock. He'd been doing this to himself for the entirety of the time they've known eachother and this is the first time he even had the idea of Morty doing this to himself.
"Morty.. I.. listen.. I know I haven't been the best grandfather before.." Rick starts, unsure of what to say next. He hides it most of the time but he cares about the kid. He really does.
"Don't blame yourself, Rick... I'm just fucked up." Morty says sadly. Rick takes a look at the kid who is absently picking at one of the scabs that hadn't been opened. Rick slaps his hand away fron the wound.
"I'm gonna clean these and bandage them. And Morty, have you seen this family?" Rick says trying his best to lighten the mood as he bends over and shuffles around in his desk. "This house is a shrinks wet dream. We're all fucked up here." He finishes, setting a small box on the table next to his grandson and taking a sip from his flask.
Morty lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I got the crazy from you and the dumbass from my dad I guess. The best of both worlds." He says sarcastically. Rick forces a smile and opens the box and pulling a tiny bottle out. He screws the lid off to reveal a tiny dropper.
"This is gonna hurt so bite this" Rick says handing Morty a cloth. Morty shoves the fabric in his teeth and bracing himself. Rick starts dropping a liquid on the lacerations. Rick wasn't bullshitting about the pain. It is excruciating. He watches as the wounds bubble and then slowly scab up.
When Rick finishes, he simply pulls the cloth from Morty's teeth. He pulls out a few bandages and begins wrapping Morty's thighs up. He finishes in just a few minutes then sits down on the table text to Morty who is pulling his pants up. He hops off the table and crosses his arms, looking at the ground. "Th-thanks. I guess" Morty mumbles. "I-I'm gonna g-go to my room." At the last word he quickly turns around to leave. Rick grabs his arm firmly, stopping th kid from leaving.
"Are you going to be safe?" Rick asks truning Morty to look at him face to face. "You gotta look me in the eyes when you answer."
Morty stares into Ricks eyes. He has to think about that answer for a second. "I... I don't know" His voice is only a whisper.
"Morty, I can't let you leave when I have reasons to believe you'll hurt yourself even more." Rick replies firmly.
"Why? You hardly seem to care when I get hurt on our adventures? You hardly care about anything." He says flatly. He feels a panic attack coming again.
Rick runs a hand though his hair then pulls out his flask again, taking long gulps out of it. "Listen Morty-"
Morty pulls himself away from Rick and walks out not bothering to listen. He quickly runs up the stairs, ignoring his father who tries to yell at him for not being at school. He goes in his room and shuts the door locking it behind him.
At this point his hands are shaking. He tries pacing around his room but just can't seem to concentrate and then falls over something thats on his floor. He lands hard on the ground. "F-fuck..." He whispers to himself, curling in a ball. Hes shaking all over and can't seem to think- its like his mind is doing everything at once at an overwhelming strength.
3. Chapter 3
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Suicide attempt in this chapter, read with caution. | 3550c06587bb478cb762525cd2a64292 | ['90617654e6c545c0b8ab7f1b0054bcf7'] | "I said that I'm sorry? What, are you deaf now?" Rick responds flatly and Morty finds himself flinching.
"You... you're sorry?" He whispers. "You? Rick, sorry?" Suddenly he laughs. It comes out high and hysterical. "Yeah, and whats next, you're going to say you like Jerry."
"Morty-"
Morty cuts Rick off by continuing to laugh hysterically. _This isn't real. He's probably trying to get my guard down so he can fucking shoot me._ "I know I'm an idiot but how stupid do you think I am?" He keeps laughing. He's about to die but he just can't stop laughing, how poetic.
"What the fuck are you on about, Morty?" Rick says, feeling almost nervous. He expected the kid to be mad, or super mopey or even happy about the apology. But instead, he thinks he broke the damn kid.
His grandson looks up at him, eyes wide. "You're not sorry, Rick. You've never been sorry in your life." He says, all laugter suddenly gone. Anger flushes through Rick, he's fucking trying to be a nice person here.
"You don't know what you're talking about Morty." He snaps, suddenly not feeling very apologetic anymore.
"Yeah, of course I don't." The kid snaps. "I never fucking know what I'm talking about, I'm just a dumbass Morty that just says stupid shit 24/7. I fucking get it Rick." He shakes his head and laughs a little again. "I'm just a disposable Morty, thats why you brought me here, right? Didn't want to slaughter me in front of my family, huh? You'd rather do it quietly then replace me with a Morty that isn't so fucking useless?" Morty spreads his arms eagle stlye and glares at Rick. "So fucking do it! _I don't care anymore._ I just want this over with."
To say he's shocked would be a lie. Rick know Morty is suicidal, but that still doesn't stop the pang of guilt in his chest. "Are you fucking kidding me, Morty?" He steps towards the kid who immediately flinches back. "You- you think I'd kill you because of," he gestures to Morty's arms (which are covered by long sleeves), "this?" Rick shakes his head. "Morty, I don't want to fucking replace you, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Morty stares at Rick for a long time before speaking again. Of course he thought he was about to die, Rick never acts like this. He never apologizes, never in a way that matters. "Do you even know what you're sorry for? Or are you just trying to get me to pretend I'm fine?"
"Goddamn it Morty." Rick pinches the bridge of his nose. "I... I'm sorry I expected you to be okay. Not even I can handle the universe and how fucked it is, how could I think _you_ could handle it?"
Morty stays silent, opting to stare at the floor, so Rick continues. "I admit it. I'm an absolute dumbass for trying to let you cope alone. I should have tried something when I'd hear you having nightmares."
Morty looks up, his face flushing red. "You heard them?" He says quietly and shamefully.
"Morty, you cry in your sleep every time you actually sleep. Well, at least you started crying after that time in the bar." As soon as Rick brings it up, he knows he fucked up. Morty recoils almost violently, his breaths growing quick. "I'm such a fucking idiot, Morty. I knew what happened and I thought you could deal with it alone."
Morty had stopped listening as soon as the bar was brought up, his mind flashing images of him being attacked again. _Hands everywhere, so much pain. So much fear. Words, horrible words etched into his brain forever- "slut", "whore", "bitch", "toy", "faggot"- repeat over and over._
"-orty! You need to breathe!" He hears distantly. Hands are on his shoulders but they're not pressing him into the floor, instead they are gentle. Morty opens his eyes (when had they shut?) and he finds himself not in a bathroom, but in the garage with Rick holding his shoulders intensely.
"It was my fault!" Morty croaks out, his voice shaking. "I couldn't- I-I-I was too weak- I couldn't stop him." His legs start to wobble under him, he can barely stand.
"Morty, look at me." Morty hesitantly looks Rick in his eyes, which are unusually soft. "That fucker? That sick son of a bitch? He's the only one to blame. It doesn't matter how strong you are, anyone can get raped, Morty."
Morty flinches at the 'r' word, his entire body shaking even more than it was before. Logically, he knows it wasnt his fault. But his damn mind tells him that he could've done so much more to stop it.
"Morty. You need to say it." Rick still hold his shoulders (thats the only thing keeping him standing).
"What?"
"Say that it wasn't your fault."
"But-"
"Morty, what happened was NOT your fault."
His voice monotone, he says it. "It wasn't my fault."
"What wasn't your fault?"
Morty tenses up and pulls away from Rick and whispers "please don't make me say it."
Rick knows he stepped over a line (maybe he's stepped over a few lines). "Okay. You don't have to say it. But I need you to know that what happened, what that sick fuck did, was not your fault."
Morty nods robotically. "Yeah."
"You know I would do anything to take back what happened to you, right?"
Another robotic nod. "Yeah."
God, when did the kid become so hollow? An irrational thought comes into Ricks head (okay, maybe this entire interaction was irrational but mental health doesn't follow a code) and he acts on it.
He hugs Morty, and shockingly enough, Morty hugs him back with shaking arms after initially tensing at the sudden touch, sinking into Ricks chest. |
e1a4509368c344d0a7fc5ead271fd2c4 | ['906a0b1b6e6544dcb693660f46b52e2c'] | \- And we didn’t have time, - Minerva, with her head down, looks completely wilted. Violet notices how her hands tremble slightly and she stares with a blank look at the checkered blanket, which is also covered with a blonde.
\- Hey, everything's fine, Minnie ... I love you, do you hear? - Violet runs his hand over the shaved part of the fiery hair, noting that this haircut feels like a hedgehog. But ironing is nice. - The most important thing is that we are together, y-yes?
Minerva raises her icy eyes on her. Oh, how much sadness and pain accumulated in them over the past year. How much shit had to go through this seemingly brave, but so morally weak girl.
\- I love you ... - Minnie slumps down on the floor, her knees resting on the cold wooden floor, and at the same time Violet puts her head on her feet, like a gentle wild beast. - I love you very much. All year I was so scared when no one was around ... Especially you, Vi.
\- And I was scared without your singing. I had to sing myself, huh, - Violet puts her hand on her red hair, smoothly stroking the girl's head.
Before, before Marlon gave the twins to raiders, Minerva and Violet always loved to touch each other. How - it does not matter; the main thing is to even accidentally touch your fingertips white skin; even accidentally touch each other's shoulders. Physical contact is important. These two always loved to squeeze, snuggle in dark places and laugh softly when it came to tickling. Sometimes Violet so much want to return all these unforgettable moments, which often demolished the tower.
\- A lot of shit happens in our time, Minnie. But I'm not mad at you, - Violet pulls his hand down, closer to the ribs of Minerva and with thin fingers begins his tickling black thing, often blinking with a dull eye. - Watch out!
\- Haha, hey! - redhead, not expecting such a setup, sharply jumps up and looks up at the girl. And instantly freezes with a half-open mouth.
On a half-blind eye, Violet has a lonely tear, and on the very face there is some kind of unusually warm and sad, at the same time, smile. The blonde simply looks at the dearest person in this cold world for her, even if she does not see her as clearly as before. Now Minnie is like a blur for her. But this is clearly better than nothing.
\- I'm so glad you're with me, - the voice is so trembling that in Minerva these speeches seem to tear out a piece of the soul. - Damn, I'm glad...
The girl does not give to finish.
\- Fuck. Come to me, my dear Violet.
Minerva, in spite of everything, is briskly approaching with her face to the girl and without any prefaces digs her bulging pink lips into the blonde's dry lips. She unquestioningly responds to her, somewhere inside realizing that these aggressive ardent kisses, in which no one wants to give in to each other's air, are still incredibly blown away the roof, as before. Minerva wants to feel Violet all, until the last crumb - deepens the kiss, making it clear how she, nevertheless, damnly lacked a precious girlfriend.
Without breaking a passionate kiss, in which tongues are woven into a fiery dance, the redhead imperceptibly pushes a large body against Violet, pressing the one closer to the wall. She understands that the girl also wants more - Vi squeezes her red T-shirt on her back so tightly, presses Minnie closer to her frail body. And still continues to kiss with his eyes closed - it does not hurt at all.
\- Minnie, Vi, go eat lunch! - Shouts Omar from the corridor behind the closed door.
Girls instantly froze, interrupting a kiss, but do not hurry to unhook with their lips from each other. Violet breathes heavily through her nose, when her tear is the same, smoothly rolling down her uneven cheek. Minerva, ryknuv something to himself and slightly moving away from the desired lips, decides to answer their wonderful friend-cook.
\- God ... Now we will come!
Violet shakes a little. She grabs her head and laughs softly to herself. Minnie, too, can’t hold back a smile, looking at the happy beloved face.
\- I’ve already had time to forget the breathtaking taste of your lips, - whispers Vi, with glittering joy on her face. - It is clearly better than any pill.
Minerva, giggling wickedly and settling on the floor, rubs her left cheek with the outside of his hand and squints, staring at the flushed face.
\- Can I remind you of this every day? Come, eat, or something. | 67298f258b1f4f93be8dce183963a4d0 | ['906a0b1b6e6544dcb693660f46b52e2c'] |
Best medicine.
\- The sun behind our backs ...
Inhale
\- You and I haven’t seen happiness for so long ...
Exhale
A warm hand with a slightly rough skin rests on a pale maiden brush. Violet, having opened his wounded eyes, dullly meets the languid gaze of cold glaciers. Minerva still smiles warmly, sitting on the old chair next to the bed of her ex-real girlfriend.
\- Rainbow wallpapers in your room ... - girls' fingers gently close.
\- Dense curtains tightened ...
Lyrical song, invented on the go redhead, slowly subsides and dissolves in the dining sunlight, making their way into the room. If Violet opened her eyes, then her headache subsided a bit.
\- How do you feel? - Minerva's soft voice tickles the ear. Slender fingers in smooth motion draw patterns on a small pen.
\- I'm fine. Minnie... Your voice... He is incredible, as always, - Violet smiles on face by itself, without tension. Sincere.
\- It’s just as incredible as you, Vi, - Minerva winks, and with a hint of excitement in her heart peers at the burned face. Past Violet is a thorough study of each scar does not pass.
\- God, Minnie, don't look at me like that! - the girl turns away and tries to cover her face with her hand, but immediately feels how all her plans break to hell with a soft interception of her wrist.
\- I like it. I like you. I love you completely. Anyone - Minerva assures with a confident but gentle voice. - What happened to you is not your fault. My…
Violet blinks. Sunlight beating from dirty half broken windows, which in some places are covered with rags, is too bright for the burnt eyes. It's too sunny today outside. The girl shakes her head easily and squeezes Minnie's fingers with her other hand.
\- Not! Don't ... Don't say that. If this is not my fault, then not yours, for sure.
Violet, revealing the only surviving left eye, focuses a foggy look on his freckled face.
\- I was scared.
\- Because of what? - Minerva tilts her head to the side.
\- I was afraid I would lose you. Forever, - Minnie feels like a strange hand trembled, holding her fingers tightly. - When you drenched the walkers after they killed the raiders, all I thought was for you they not to bite you.
She pauses, but only for a moment; Minerva does not dare to interrupt the girl. Outside the window birds chirping playfully, and in the silence of the room the blonde sighs noisily and closes her eyes again.
\- Still, it's good that you listened to Clem and jumped into our cart. She is able to convince.
\- Vi ...
\- No, really! If you were bitten, I would ... I do not know what it would be ...
Violet, still sitting with his eyes closed, feels a sharply approaching familiar smell of a loved one that easily penetrates straight into the lungs; feels soft kisses on her cheek. Feels like Minerva gently and gently touches the lips of healed burns on the eyes; perfectly hears her uneven breathing near his ear. It would seem that outwardly harsh and cruel Minnie may be the best doctor: Violet’s pain always go away for her affection, even for a short time.
For two months now - as soon as all the children returned to school - headaches from the eyes torment the poor girl. Especially during the day, when the sunlight sets its own order. Violet often lies in her room, curled up on cold sheets, and clenches her teeth in order to crush the discomfort for even a second: it's a pity to take the pills — others will still need it. And it is at such moments, heavy for a blonde, Minerva comes to her. Looks in love with her eyes, as if his mother strokes his head, sings - especially for Violet, holds her hand and whispers various tenderness: about how she loves.
\- You are beautiful. It does not matter whether you see it or not, it strokes your cheeked surface with your thumb. Well, if I had become a walker ...
Minnie, lost in thought, with a mocking smile, pulls away slightly from the girl.
\- First I would find you, - she laughs. - I would go for you far, far away, even bitten.
\- And then what? - Violet uncovers a surviving eye through a headache.
\- And then I would kiss you until you yourself could become a walker. Kisses death.
Violet shakes her head, once again marveling at what strange thoughts sometimes arise in Minerva’s head. As before, when all the children lived peacefully at school, being younger.
\- Hmm, you know, but I like such a death! I would love to p ... - hisses from sharply rising pain in the eyes.
\- Vi! - Minerva jumps up from the chair and pulls hands to the injured girl. That allows you to wrap yourself around the forearm, feeling as if on the back, as if struck with a current. - Does it hurt you much?
\- You're so cute when you're worried, - the blonde wheezes, squeezing a laugh out of herself, more like a cough. - All just ok.
Minnie rushes with a restless look on the pale face of a girlfriend, compassionately moves the red eyebrows with a scar on one of them and lowers her eyes shamefully down.
\- I'm so sorry ... I threw you there, all alone ... I ran to the rest of the devil's Delta group, forgetting everything, - the words stuck in my throat. - I like the tower demolished.
\- Ah ... We wanted to pull the bomb ... |
c31c11cd70234f189ff4bd818c27f3eb | ['906ef47a16f845d5a2f2d1ded94a227f'] | A soft haze was clouding your thoughts, and Shockwave didn’t seem to be faring much better before he got a grip on himself and carefully pressed two digits into your already quite slick valve. It became clear that he was stretching you as he spread his digits apart before twisting them and stretching you the other way. A soft gasp escaped your vox as you felt his pattern of stretching you and letting your valve rest until he slowly pushed a third digit inside. It was getting harder for you to control your venting as Shockwave continued to toy almost mercilessly with you valve. Your optics made contact with his single one, and you sighed in relief.
“Good.” You panted. “I was a little scared you hadn’t done this before.”
“Of course I have.” Shockwave stated. “I am not one to deny a heat-addled mecha. It would be illogical, especially if I am the only one in close proximity.”
“How is that any different from the parasite?” You asked, all venom leaving your voice as you found yourself genuinely curious and rather distracted from the digits in your valve.
“Heat cycles are a natural part of the cybertronian frame.” He replied, deciding your valve was stretched enough and removing his digits, pausing to examine your lubricant. “Even the most desperate mecha is capable of resisting it enough not to jump on whoever is nearest. What about you?”
“Interface?” You asked, holding yourself open for Shockwave as he began to guide your hips over his spike. “Of course. It gets lonely in the mines.”
With another kiss, you slowly lowered yourself onto Shockwave’s spike, chest-to-chest as his hand moved up to your back. Words stopped being of importance as you silently relished the slight burn, holding onto the scientist’s broad shoulders and beginning to rock your hips against him, calipers cycling down on the spike that was almost fully seated inside of you.
Shockwave moaned quietly, frame shaking slightly as he tried to move and match with your slow pace while still supporting you. Hard venting was broken with moans as his spike ground against your ceiling node, resulting in your back arching as you gasped out his name. It was to be expected that Shockwave wouldn’t be particularly vocal during interface, but he still made quite a wide array of rumbles, groans, moans and gasps. At one point, he lay down and pulled you with him and began rolling his hips upward into you.
“Shockw- Ahh!” You tried to say his name as you ended up face-first onto his chestplate. He groaned in response, and it seemed you were both chasing the knot of pleasure you could feel forming in your abdomen. Pushing yourself up, you began to ride Shockwave faster, and you gasped in surprise when you felt his hand on your previously-neglected spike, stroking you in time with your rolls on his spike. You could tell he knew you weren’t going to last much longer and seemed determined to make you overload as efficiently as possible because _ of course he was _ . You stiffened as your overload broke over you in a wave, unable to move as he continued to rub your spike, drawing it out and allowing your transfluid to get on his abdomen and chest. When you finished, you were almost strutless and the scientist sat up to help you off of his spike before laying down again as you flopped next to him, panting. When you were recovered enough to move, you realized he was making slightly uncomfortable sounds… and hadn’t overloaded yet.
“I do not require-” Shockwave tried to tell you as you forced yourself up and maneuvered yourself between his legs, hands on his previously-unappreciated thighs. His insistence that he was fine cut off when you kissed the tip of his spike, earning you a soft moan and a quiet murmur about ‘unsanitary’ and ‘your own lubricant’ before you took the tip of his spike into your mouth and you began teasing the slit with your glossa.
“Also: What is the logic beh- ohh…” Shockwave said, optic flickering as you began to bob your helm over his spike. Honestly, this entire time you had been trying to fight off a giggle since every carnal sound pulled from Shockwave seemed to startle him to some degree. Even though you couldn’t deepthroat the mech, you could certainly tell that he was becoming undone, and you wished you could watch him come undone as he squirmed on the berth. Since you couldn’t, you decided to satisfy yourself by teasing the slit with your glossa when Shockwave didn’t seem to be expecting it and getting a surprised moan in response to your efforts. His groans were slowly starting to rise in pitch and you began to taste prefluid before you pulled off with a wet pop and licked the tip while one of your hands started rubbing his spike. Shockwave overloaded with the closest thing to a yelp you had ever heard him make, spike giving a few healthy spurts of transfluid before his overload finished. Most of the transfluid went into your mouth, but some ended up on your lips and cheek. After you managed to swallow, you crawled back up to Shockwave’s side and lay next to the panting scientist, closing your panels and watching as he did the same before starting to try and clean you - almost subconsciously.
“That cannot have tasted good.” Was the first thing Shockwave said to you once he was able to speak again, and that sent you into a giggle fit that you vowed never to explain. He seemed to have given up on trying to get answers from you, at least right now, so he tried to get up - except you were clinging to his frame and now more than ever it seemed obvious that Shockwave didn’t want to hurt you.
“What are you doing?” He asked, sounding more curious than inconvenienced.
“I’m cuddling you.” You told him firmly, and were surprised when he lay back down.
“Very well,” Shockwave decided, holding you close to his frame as you began to doze off - messy and tired but satisfied. “I will indulge your cuddling.”
A question crossed your processor, waking you up enough to look up at Shockwave. “Hey… What did you do before the war? You know what I did… and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“I was a senator.” He replied after a moment of consideration. “I was attempting to change the system from the inside. It… did not _ end well _ for me. After that, I came to realize that the only logical option was to follow Megatron and tear down Cybertron so we could rebuild it anew.”
Something in his tone… in how he spoke about being a senator made your spark ache without your knowing why. His reasoning was as cold and logical as ever… but it felt slightly different. You sat up and kissed his antennae, the happy rumble from his engine putting your worry out of your mind as you settled down next to the clearly-recharging scientist and letting yourself doze off as well.
**Author's Note:**
> *screams for 1000 years* this is like the first writing I've finished in 3 years and I'm very anxious about it.
>
> It was also 100% self-indulgent | cd1aca062e754b97825d350b1388f8d1 | ['906ef47a16f845d5a2f2d1ded94a227f'] | Work Break
The only reason Shockwave hadn’t noticed anything was wrong with his ration was because he didn’t have a sense of taste anymore and greatly preferred direct injections over drinking energon. It took him a few minutes to even notice anything was off.
It started as a slow increase in core temperature, but Shockwave figured it was simply because Earth’s temperatures tended to fluctuate. On his own, Shockwave had a relatively low sex drive, so it really wasn’t until his valve clenched down on nothing that he finally processed what was going on with his frame.
“ _Oh_.” Shockwave said quietly, before turning to look when the door to his lab opened. Megatron strode in, sharp denta glinting as he grinned down at Shockwave - which was never a good sign. Only rarely did the warlord actually smile, and the glint in his crimson optics… actually caused a ping to come from Shockwave’s paneling. It was denied, but just barely.
“What ever is the matter, Shockwave?” Megatron asked, raising one optic ridge. “Have you been sampling your experiments?”
“My Lord, you know full well what is happening.” Shockwave replied, voice slightly strained. “After all, we did agree that you could add a heat inducer to my rations.”
Megatron barked a laugh at that and turned, moving over to Shockwave and pushing him against the wall - pinning the scientist. A glossa flick across his antenna, and Shockwave’s composure began to break down - single hand clinging to Megatron’s armor while his hips bucked forward with little to no permission from Shockwave. He groaned as Megatron began tracing one hand down his frame, following biolights and tracing seams before coming to a rest against Shockwave’s paneling.
“Open.” Megatron growled, and Shockwave’s optic flickered as he obeyed, leaving his spike and valve bare against his master’s palm. “You’re already a mess, Shockwave… I’m pleased you agreed to do this with me.”
Shockwave’s only response was to moan softly and try to grind his valve down on Megatron’s hand, venting hard and trying to prevent himself from giving a pathetic whine when what little contact his array had abruptly left as Megatron released him and turned away. “You still need to _earn_ it, though.”
“M-Master, please-” Shockwave panted, leaning against the wall to attempt and support himself. Anticipation bubbled in his frame when Megatron paused and turned back to look at him. “Master… I- I need you.”
“That… is more like it.” Megatron purred, smile spreading further when Shockwave’s hand moved to his array, beginning to rub his spike to try and alleviate the ache that was starting to set in. “Go to the console and bend over.”
Shockwave’s immediate obedience wasn’t surprising. The soft sound of need he gave once in position was, and Megatron licked his lips when he saw how desperate the scientist really was. Another sound of anticipation left Shockwave when he heard the telltale click of a panel retracting, and felt Megatron hovering over him.
“Are you ready?” Megatron asked softly, spike nudging the jet black lips of Shockwave’s valve. Weakly, the scientist nodded before keening when Megatron pushed his spike in deep. Trapped under Megatron’s weight, Shockwave shivered until he felt one of Megatron’s hands wrap around his. A soft kiss was placed against one of his antennae, and the pair waited until Shockwave stopped shivering for Megatron to begin thrusting into him.
The next few hours was somewhat of a blur of pleasure for Shockwave. He knew Megatron fragged him hard against the console until the scientist overloaded hard, and he knew that Megatron had teased him with mouth and glossa until the scientist was overloading again, there had definitely been some thigh-fragging in there somewhere, but by the time Shockwave was riding Megatron’s spike like he would offline without it… it was hard to determine how many overloads the scientist had experienced.
In all that time, Megatron had only overloaded once, and most of his transfluid went onto Shockwave’s abdomen and chest. His panting became ragged and barely audible over the pair’s cooling fans as his second approached, and Megatron seized Shockwave’s hips and forced him flush against his frame when he overloaded with a snarl, biting down on Shockwave’s shoulder hard enough to dent metal.
Which, coincidentally, caused Shockwave to overload so hard his optic shorted out. He lay limp against Megatron for a few moments before stirring again, optic slowly coming back online. Transfluid was leaking out of his valve as he slowly pulled off of Megatron’s spike before he leaned forward and rested his forhelm against Megatron’s - his version of a kiss.
“Thank you, my Lord.” Shockwave said, vox ragged as his cooling fans stuttered out. Megatron grunted in response and stood, closing his panels. He supported Shockwave as he walked him to the emergency washracks connected to the lab. “Am I correct in assuming this means it is your turn when we do this next?”
“Back to normal, eh?” Megatron asked with a laugh, kissing Shockwave’s helm. “Of course, but let’s be sure to schedule it. I don’t like being surprised as much as you do. Now let’s get cleaned up. I’m sorry about the bite.”
“Knock Out can handle that.” Shockwave replied, interlacing his digits with Megatron’s. “May I have the rest of the work shift off?”
“Of course, my dear.”
**Author's Note:**
> https://maccadams-filthy-fills.tumblr.com/
>
> On tumblr here: https://robot-tit.tumblr.com/post/160493939498/someone-slips-shockwave-an-aphrodisiac-that-makes |
b188a503a76048f6b2b1908b2751e166 | ['9081bdae2f6d4f1ca36e4ec6109fc602'] | Jihoon sighs, and opens the cupboard above the wash basin. Shaking the lube bottle to make sure there’s some left, he opens it and squeezes some onto his fingers. Pulling down his briefs, he bites his lips and mentally prepares himself. Time to get to work.
\- - -
Seungcheol gulps. He doesn’t want to go too far, and is afraid he might scare Jihoon away with his kinky ideas, especially since he has much more going on inside his head. He can’t help it though, especially when Jihoon was so close to him, the slight sway in his hips as he walked and the way he pushed his hair back as he worked never failed to make Seungcheol shiver in a bit in anticipation of what was beneath his clothes, how Jihoon would react if Seungcheol pushed him against the counter and kissed him roughly, or if Seungcheol were to run his hands over the younger’s soft pale thighs, mouthing at his clothed dick.
His self-control was only that limited okay! He was a growing (not so anymore) man and although they had had sex a few times already, he could never get enough of Jihoon.
However, despite being bold enough to request such an open sexual favour from Jihoon, he doesn’t definitely didn’t expect Jihoon to actually accept it and was prepared to laugh it off it the young male got angry at him.
Setting his expectations low and expecting to get yelled at when Jihoon stepped out of the bathroom, he got a shock when the door opened and Jihoon was wearing all, (all) the clothes Seungcheol had prepared for him.
“What, stop staring!” Jihoon spits out despite the pink in his cheeks. Seungcheol looks so awed, he feels so embarrassed, he just wants to sink into the ground. Jihoon is convinced he looks the epitome of ridiculous, and shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to alleviate the pressure on his prostate (he’s not purposely accurate with putting butt plugs in, but whatever).
Seungcheol seems to think the opposite, licking his lips and staring hungrily at Jihoon up and down, eyes dilating and mouth pulling into a seductive smile.
“Aren’t you going to start taking photographs? Jihoon murmurs, looking away.
The butt plug actually feels good, and he doesn’t want to give that away nor let out any sound that might embarrass him even more. He thinks it might just be better to get it done and over with, before he leaks pre-cum onto front of his clothes. He had already long forgone his briefs in order to accommodate the cat tail and his erection was making a small tent in the sweater.
“Y-yeah! Yeah, I will! You can sit here,” Seungcheol chokes out, eyes not leaving Jihoon as he picks up his camera and pats the chair in front of him.
Jihoon huffs and plops down onto the chair. The sudden action garners Seungcheol a loud, sharp moan and a full body shiver. Jihoon’s eyes squeeze shut and he shrivels up on the inside with shame. He was so stupid, sitting on the butt plug like that! He mentally scolded himself, peeking shyly at Seungcheol to check his reaction.
Jihoon was pleasantly surprised to see that his boyfriend had blushed, and was already sporting a half erection. He pushes himself up slightly to adjust the butt plug, whining lowly as it presses further against his prostate. The smaller male groans in frustration and shifts around, trying to get into a more comfortable position before giving up and panting as he tries to ignore the constant pulse of pleasure.
Seungcheol’s mouth felt dry, and he quickly lifted his camera to snap several photos while Jihoon was distracted. Then, he slowly made his way over, treading carefully as if scared that any sudden action would scare Jihoon away. Lifting the smaller boy into his arms, he takes a seat on the chair instead, and settles Jihoon onto his knee, facing him.
Jihoon squeaks, surprised. He clings onto Seungcheol, shivering. With every movement and brush against Seungcheol’s skin, he feels like he’s on fire, heat spreading to his cheeks and more private areas and he squirms, subtlely jerking his hips lightly against his boyfriend’s chest, then backwards to the buttplug to try and relieve some of the ache.
Swallowing harshly, Seungcheols grabs both of Jihoon’s butt cheeks, pulling them apart and leaning over to have a better look.
He runs his finger over the pink of Jihoon’s hole, awed by the way it twitched under his touch and how seemed to be sucking the butt plug in.
He couldn’t resist slipping a finger in to join the plug.
"Ahh! C-cheol.." Jihoon moans as Seungcheol wriggles his finger inside, marvelling his boyfriend’s heat and softness, how pilant and aroused his boyfriend was, gathered in his arms, all his.
At this thought, he flips the switch at the bottom of the cat tailand turns on the vibration of the butt plug to ‘low’.
"W-what..?" Jihoon cries out. Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to get used to the sudden sensation, he pulls seungcheol closer and moans softly in the male’s ear. He rolls up his hips upwards enticingly, and Seungcheol rubs his inner thighs, smiling at the entrancing picture Jihoon made, shaking his hips as if to attract the older male. He’s so cute like this, Seungcheol thinks as he smiles adoringly at jihoon.
The raven then starts thumbing at Jihoon’s nipples through his clothes and licks the shell of his ears, whispering sweet things into the younger male’s ears, tells him things like how he’s “so beautiful, so perfect, and don’t ever show anyone else how you’re like like this, all lovely in my arms...stay with me forever,” he’s say and Jihoon is drunk on all the praise and pleasure. Their tongues slide against each other and Seungcheol sucks softly at his lips, licking the insides of his mouth while cupping Jihoons face and stroking his cheek gently. | 1f48ad928ae94a5e8dea16eafb3673b9 | ['9081bdae2f6d4f1ca36e4ec6109fc602'] |
**Author's Note:**
> i tried angst
> but it didn't work out because i like sexy times too much
> didn't even read this twice, sorry for mistakes !! kind of short but enjoy
The world is in black and white.
Jihoon, and almost everyone else he knows is used to this phenomenon, and they stroll along in peace, undisturbed by the lack of vibrant colours in their life. People don’t look at the sky, nor the grass or flowers. Why would they? There was no reason to when everything was the same shade of monochrome.
The world is in black and white.
Jihoon knows this, yet he sobs sometimes, wondering if he’s the lone person who’s so affected whenever he’s away from the colours. He cries so much he feels blind from all the tears blurring his eyesight, and sometimes he thinks that it might be better that way. Jihoon smiles emptily, and continues crying. He can’t live without the colours, anyway.
The world was in black and white.
Jihoon knows he’s not perfect, he’s not one of the selected few who gets to see the brightness of the world, that he only deserves the black and white he’s offered. He definitely wasn’t meant to see the colours, but somehow that had changed.
The sky is blue, the grass is green, his eyes are brown.
Or hazel, thinks Jihoon as he remembers the times he used to stare into the other’s eyes, captivated by the world reflected in them. Jihoon onto over the other’s knees to get a closer look, “your eyes are so pretty,” he mutters in awe. The love of his life kisses the tip of his nose and laughs, ruffling Jihoon’s (blonde?) hair. The adoration in the other male’s eyes makes Jihoon dizzy with happiness, and he snuggles into the other’s chest.
This reminds Jihoon of how far apart they’ve been for the past few hours and he sulks.
Jihoon walks blankly through the streets. He needs to get home as soon as possible. The black and white around him seem to pulse, and he feels weak. People look at him weird and he knows they’ll never understand.
He’s so special to be able to find someone who lets him sees the colours, someone who loves him for who he is. Jihoon is blessed, and he knows it. But he also thinks it’s a curse, like a drug that he can never stop inducing.
Fumbling for his house keys and throwing open the door to his apartment, Jihoon makes a run with the remains of his strength for the bedroom. The smaller male pounces onto the bed, and lands hard on the other occupant on it.
Said occupant groans in protest and grumbles about how ‘doesn’t mean you’re small means you’re light’, but still pulls Jihoon into his warm arms. Jihoon feels tears drip down the sides of his face. He feels overwhelmed, and lays there in a daze, finding comfort in the handing rubbing up and down his back. Time passed by fast when he had fun, and Jihoon had to make the most of this.
He can’t live without the colours, Jihoon thinks, as he moans delightedly against the taller male’s cock. He loves doing this, sparks of colours fill his sight and this is the closest he can get to seeing them all. Jihoon feels drunk off the pleasure, the colours, off Seungcheol.
Seungcheol makes him so drunk. Jihoon stares loving into the raven’s eyes. It’s hazel. The bedsheets are white, the wallpaper pastel blue and the tip of Seungcheol’s cock is pink, it’s length a healthy rosy flush. It contrasts well against the paleness of Jihoon’s skin, and the younger boy watches, entranced as the cock slides between his legs, rubs against his hole and against the skin of the bottom of his balls. “Your hole is so pink, too,” Seungcheol tells him, looking hungry as Jihoon clenches around nothing.
Jihoon shudders, and cums hard, even though Seungcheol’s not even in him yet.
(He’s embarrassed, but Seungcheol thinks he’s sexy and hot like this, so he let’s go of himself easily.)
Seungcheol doesn’t stop there. He fingers Jihoon gently, smiling as the other boy squirms and pants, whining each time Seungcheol spreads his fingers to stretch Jihoon’s insides.
When the blond is ready, Seungcheol lifts him up and let’s the younger ride his cock, pulling Jihoon down for a deep kiss as he thrusts upwards.
He takes pleasure in the tight hold Jihoon’s hole has on him, the flush on Jihoon’s cheeks as he loses himself to the press against his prostate and the hazy look in the male’s eyes as they exchange kiss after kiss, lapping at each other’s lips in earnest.
“Your hole looks so pink,” Seungcheol groans out. He knows what this does to Jihoon.
(The pinks of their intimate parts, pressed together, so close makes Jihoon go crazy. It’s the only time where he has something similar with Seungcheol connected to close, and he finally feels that he’s worthy of being with the other male. He doesn’t see colours, he’s not perfect, but Seungcheol loves him and- )
((Jihoon can't complete that sentence without getting a erection. "Sexy!" Seungcheol shouts from the kitchen))
As expected, Jihoon starts fucking himself on Seungcheol’s cock as hard as he can, and shivers with joy, drooling from the corner of his mouth. Seungcheol helps him out, gripping into the smaller boy’s hips and slamming him down so the pink tip of his cock meets the deep insides of Jihoon, and puts sudden pressure on Jihoon’s prostate. Jihoon screams, and is already leaking his pre-cum all over Seungcheol before they cum.
The next day, Jihoon leaves for work. The world becomes black and white again, and Jihoon feels like crying. ‘It’s okay,’ he tells himself. The colours will be back when he comes home again. Work is like torture, but the rewards of coming home after a long day is so great Jihoon doesn’t even care anymore. He’s addicted to the colours, to Seungcheol, but he’ll rather stay that way.
Cycle repeats. The world is in black and white.
(But the splatter of Seungcheol’s cum across his thighs is so pretty he thinks he wouldn’t mind being completely white too.)
**Author's Note:**
> Ok so i was not super clear but the “idea” of this was that jihoon got aroused because he thinks he’s not perfect for seungcheol (because he can’t colours without cheol) but the fact that something of his that has the same colour as seungcheol’s meets so intimately gets him off so much so gets erections all the time HAHA idk sorry killed the mood somewhere in the middle it was meant to be |
ae066ae93de9419cb39be6ca7e40291d | ['90acb0ce5dad4993874fab56b1c23fc9'] |
Assignments
It was the week after mid-semester break. Now that universities had graciously given their poor tired students a week away, a week to slow down and a week to relax, they were expecting the payoff from this time of ‘rest’- every subject under the sun seemed to be demanding at _least_ one assignment.
Which meant it was Robin’s favourite week of semester.
Oh, sure, he hated assignments as much as the next student. But assignments meant all-nighters, and all-nighters meant…
He walks into the library and up to the third floor and sure enough, sitting at the table in the far corner is the blond engineering student who somehow became his study partner.
Engineering and business was an odd combination, to be sure. None of their subjects really had _anything_ in common, but they found the arrangement worked surprisingly well nonetheless.
But there he is, sitting in his usual seat. Messy hair, blue-green eyes, a seemingly never-ending supply of turtlenecks, and deadliest of all…
He looks up from his books, sees Robin approaching, and _smiles_. And Robin’s world grinds right to a halt.
“Hellooooo? Earth to Robin?” Reality returns and Shulk is looking up at him with a mixture of concern and amusement.
He flushes and stammeres out, “s-sorry, I’m just tired.” He laughed uneasily. “You know how it goes.”
Shulk’s chuckle makes Robin go weak-kneed, but he’s still standing and he’s proud of himself for that. He dumps his things and sits down next to Shulk in a way he hopes was at least slightly dignified.
And then the laptop comes out and the textbooks are opened, and for a time it’s serious working, all frantic typing and frustrated muttering, until Robin makes the mistake of looking up. And there, right next to him, is Shulk. Worrying at his bottom lip, brow furrowed slightly as he reads over his calculations for the five thousandth time. And suddenly the essay due tomorrow doesn’t really seem all that pressing.
If he was entirely honest with himself, someone whose very _being_ was enough to stop his thoughts right in their tracks was probably not the best idea for a study buddy, but he wouldn’t give this up for all the productivity in the world.
But unfortunately he can’t turn in a photo of Shulk instead of this paper on the importance of worker satisfaction, so he shakes himself out of it and turns his attention back to the screen.
\-------------
And so the afternoon passes. They work in silence, silence that is occasionally broken by a “hey Robin, can you check my working here?” or “does this part actually make sense?” and the table becomes scattered with Shulk’s rough working pages and scribbled diagrams while Robin’s essay grows gradually longer.
All goes well, until Robin finds he’s hit a bit of a wall. The words just won’t flow and he can’t force his thoughts into coherence, and he’s started pulling harshly on his hair when Shulk looks over. Shulk leans back in his chair and exhales hard, loud enough to draw Robin’s attention.
“Alright,” he announces. “Break time.”
“I can’t, I have to- I have to keep going or I’ll never finish, I just-”
Shulk smiles gently and grabs Robin’s hand. Robin realises he’s trying to calm him down, but it’s not really having the intended effect.
“Shhh, it’s okay. We’ve barely stopped and we’ve been here for five hours, we can take a break. Besides,” he gives Robin’s hand a little squeeze and Robin’s heart skips a beat or ten, “it’s 7.30! We should eat!”
_Ah_ , Robin thinks. _Of course. Food._ Not really what he’d _like_ the whole hand-holding-and-squeezing thing to be about, now that he thinks about it he _is_ rather hungry.
“R-right. Break time.” He closes his eyes and takes a moment to slow his breathing before pulling his other hand out of his hair, dropping the strands he pulled out in his frustration.
He opens his eyes again, and smiles. It’s a pathetic little smile, weary and worn, but Shulk seems to be satisfied. Shulk gives his hand a final squeeze before letting it go.
Shulk rummages in his bag while Robin clears a space on the table, saving his file (twice for good measure) and closing his laptop, pushing it and some of Shulk’s papers aside. Shulk finds what he’s looking for- a plastic container of food- which he chucks into the space Robin’s made.
“Sandwiches!” he declares cheerfully, before laughing sheepishly and scratching his head. “I still can’t really cook anything, so you’ll just have to live with these.”
Robin laughs, and it’s as though all the tension from earlier just drains right out of him. “Sandwiches sound great.” And then they’re looking right at each other with matching grins, and Robin’s struck for the thousandth time by the thought of how _easy_ being with Shulk is.
_And that’s why I…_
He cuts the thought off there. For now, it’s time to eat.
The sandwiches are, well, sandwiches. There’s something special about knowing it was _Shulk_ who made them, and they’re _food_ , which admittedly was sorely needed at this point. But sandwiches are still sandwiches, and they’re not really all that exciting. Before too long the food is finished, and Shulk stashes the container back in his bag and pulls his papers back.
He stops a moment, turns to look at Robin, a question and a concern plain in his eyes.
“I’m alright now. Thanks to you.” He looks away, embarrassed. “Thanks, Shulk.”
“No problem! That’s what we do this for, right?” And Robin doesn’t look back at him, because he knows he’s wearing that stupid smile that makes Robin’s heart stop.
“Yeah, I guess it is. But really, Shulk,” he drags his laptop back over and hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. So uh, thanks.” | c5d126405cf643a7a0e60e346e022d79 | ['90acb0ce5dad4993874fab56b1c23fc9'] | After It All
**Author's Note:**
> set right after the story of pleaides (the pirate set)
>
> in case ur not familiar, roles of those mentioned are:
>
> subaru: vane the pirate captain
> sousei: steid, a naval officer and captain of the navy ship
> hinata: edward, the crown prince of england
> kyouya: francis, steid's aide
Everything was over.
The Admiral's plot had been stopped. The Crown Prince Edward was safe, and those who remained of Steid's sailors would escort him safely back to the capital. And for now, the pirates allowed the naval soldiers shelter on the Artemis.
Steid doesn't ask Vane what on earth he'd wished for and why. Vane doesn't confront Steid about the tears that had formed when he'd seen Francis open his eyes. Just one more thing they won't talk about.
For people whose only interactions are based around trying to kill each other, they sure have a lot of those.
The next time they cross paths, out on the open blue waters, they will be enemies again. But for today, they'll sit together, eat together, not exactly getting along but not arguing either as Ed watches cheerfully.
_It's just for Ed,_ Vane tells himself. _He'd be upset if we started fighting._
Though he knows that's not quite right, he doesn't think about it further. It won't matter for long.
The strange way their lives have intertwined is too set for even this complete overturning of everything they'd lived for to shake it.
\-------------
...Or so he'd thought.
He doesn't know how long he'd spent staring blankly out at the sea when Steid speaks, breaking their long silence.
"Vane."
Vane glances around. Ed had left without him noticing, leaving only the two of them behind. He'll try not to snap back this time, he doesn't have the energy for this after everything. "What."
Steid looks at the deck, not speaking. Vane considers getting up and walking off before any irritation can build up.
"...he took everything from me." So they are going to talk about what happened to Francis. Unexpected. Steid looks Vane in the eyes, finally. "But you gave it back."
Vane had, honestly, really hoped they weren't going to talk about this. Even he doesn't really know why he brought Francis back, it just... felt like the right thing to do. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't respond.
"I'm not going to pretend this makes me dislike you any less."
"Good." He really does stand up now. If Steid wants to pick a fight, he can go argue with Francis. Vane's not doing it today.
"But, still. Thank you."
...Not picking a fight, then. He won't leave just yet. "Thank Ed for that."
It's not a _lie_ , per se. If Ed hadn't stopped them from fighting amidst the burning wreckage of the ship, there wouldn't have been any wish, any resurrection, of _anyone_.
It was also thanks to Ed that he'd seen plainly just how much Steid cared for his subordinates. Not just Francis, that was a given, but the rank and file sailors. He fought back the despair, the brokenness, the complete loss of meaning that Francis' sudden death had inflicted. Because he had to save his crew.
In those moments, the two of them had been the same.
...And this is why he didn't want to think about it. Some things, it's easier to live without acknowledging.
Maybe he'll just change the subject.
"Ed's a good kid." Smooth.
Steid nods. "He'll make a good king one day."
Vane's all out of things to say again. Nothing's coming to mind that isn't rude, and he _really_ doesn't feel like fighting.
The silence drags on as Steid stands up. "When that time comes," he walks up close, looks Vane straight in the eyes. "I hope you will offer his reign your support."
Steid, asking a pirate for assistance. Before today, it would have been unthinkable. Before today, Vane might even have laughed.
But today. Today, it doesn't feel even the slightest bit ridiculous.
So he nods. "Of course."
Steid steps backwards, nodding. Vane holds eye contact, and finds again he's without words. Once again, silence drags out between them.
Finally, Steid turns to leave. He stops, and looks back over his shoulder. "Then I'll see you around." And with that, he walks off.
Vane stands, now alone on the deck.
Maybe he was wrong after all. Maybe even their long-established animosity could change.
As with everything else, it somehow feels like Ed's fault.
Vane shakes his head and sighs, though he can feel himself smiling, and heads below deck to find his crew.
**Author's Note:**
> yall i'm so sad.
>
> goodbye yumecast. you'll always be in my heart. |
abed657b49bf42029bb2b11d16e7a7b7 | ['90b07a8845a4467181f678c72e27981b'] | Saving Her
“Darling, wha-”
Grinning wickedly, Emma easily flipped her wife over; leaving her sentence unfinished as she quickly straddled her. Regina let out a groan as she unceremoniously landed on her stomach; trying to get up, but Emma's weight has her fully pinned down.
"Ooh… You'll enjoy this..." Emma growled seductively, gripping the brunette's hips as she allowed herself a tiny smirk, knowing that her wife wasn't in control this time. Regina panicked at the sudden change, her breathing growing more and more erratic. Heavy sweat clouded her senses as she felt a dead weight on her back, pinning her down. Leopold... She recoiled at the thought of him again.
The familiar sensation immediately took her back; she found herself trapped underneath the large and heavy body, rendered helpless against his advances. Regina shook her head wildly, tears leaking as she fisted the sheets, whimpering.
“Regina?” Emma barely whispered as she immediately tore herself away, her wife reduced to a quivering puddle. Free of Emma's hold, Regina scurried to the headboard, clutching it desperately as she withdrew her knees, protecting her naked body from abuse.
_Leopold’s large frame staggering towards her, alcohol reeking form his breath as he got closer, forcing Regina to gag on the smell. “Stand up…” He slurred, towering over her as his fingers reached for his clasp, shaking off his coat._
_“My King, please…” Regina whimpered._
“Fuck, what have I done…” Emma cursed herself as she took in the display. She triggered one of Regina’s flashbacks, and she was as sure as fuck it wasn’t a very pleasant memory. Wasting no more time, she grabbed her cotton tee from the bedside and wrestled it over her head.
"Regina..." She said gently as she approached the brunette, only to have the older woman curling up into a ball, desperate to maintain the distance between them.
_“Stand up! Don’t make me say it twice, you whore!”_
_Shaking from fear, Regina reluctantly stood up, eyes peering down to the floor as she arms rose up to shield her chest. A strong palm streaked across her face, her head hurled to the side as she felt herself being flung to the bed, cheeks burning and sharp cut formed quickly at the edge of her lips. Her vision blurred by the trauma as she desperately tried to sit up, only to be held down by the heavy frame. The king started tearing at her clothes, shredding them like an animal. Black and blue littered across Regina’s torso and the futile attempts at defending herself only made him even more furious._
"Please..." Nails sinking deep into her knees, breaking into a plea, "…no more... it hurts..." She sobbed hysterically, her body trembling against the brown oak. The mixture of sex and sweat in the air served as a perfect reminder of what Leopold was capable of.
"Regina…” Emma starts again, slowly reaching out to her arm. She was careful not to make any sudden movements. "Shhh... It’s okay… No one will hurt you, I promise," Emma reassures her wife once more, her fingers smoothed themselves over her wet knuckles. Emma's touch managed to sooth Regina out of her memories; her Savior continued to coax her back into their world; her voice resounding in her head, pulling her back to the present and her touch, warm and soft, void of all contempt for her beloved.
"He's gone...He's dead..." Emma easily guides Regina's gaze to her own, brown eyes conveying nothing but gentleness as they met Regina's dark ones. "No one will ever hurt you again," She brings her knuckles to her lips, caressing them lovingly. It took a while before Regina had fully registered the person in front of her. She blinked away the tears that hindered her sight.
"Emma?" Regina whispered uncertainly. She wanted to; needed to believe that Emma was with her and not Leopold.
"It's me," Emma smiled through her own tears, hands cupping Regina's cheek, stroking them, "It's your Emma."
"Emma..." It was barely a whisper, and a second later, Emma felt a slight weight against her arms. Regina curled up against the younger woman's chest, arms tightening their hold around her neck as she cried against her shoulder.
"Shhh... I’m here now… "She soothes her, fingers lightly stroking her bare shoulders, "You’re safe…"
"I-I thought you were him..." Regina whispered against Emma's shoulder, her body now slightly relaxed as she leaned against the blond, "I'm sorry I ruined everything."
"No." Came Emma's instant reply, "Don't ever be sorry for that, my love," Arms enveloped Regina, pulling her much closer. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have done that..." Emma swallowed bitterly as she was reminded of her deeds once more, "I should have known better, I should have been better."
“It’s okay, Emma,” Regina replied quietly, nuzzling further into the Savior’s neck, “I’m just glad that it’s you I can wake up to.” Emma turned her head a little, pressing her lips into her wife’s forehead, lingering a little longer than usual.
“I love you…” She sighed, relishing the warmth of the body in her arms. Regina moaned a little in response; her eyes closed as her breathing became light, drifting off into a peaceful sleep with her Savior holding her.
**Author's Note:**
> Thanks again for reading this short fic. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm currently writing another SwanQueen fanfic (although it may take a while longer to get it posted), but please do leave your comments and/or ideas. Cheers! | c699e7cf8c2945e586a975a0b4d4f7a5 | ['90b07a8845a4467181f678c72e27981b'] | Anne laughed as she gave a quick peck on her sister’s forehead, pulling her close for a tight hug. “You cannot be crying right now. It’s Father’s birthday, it’s bad luck.”
Marian let out a chuckle as she dabbed the corner of her eyes, careful not to ruin her makeup.
“I must make some rounds before Father’s speech,” Anne said as she saw spotted Samuel close by, “you just worry about who you’ll be dancing with later, alright?” With an assuring smile, Anne kissed her sister’s cheeks affectionately before striding over to her assistant.
“Ma’am,” Samuel greeted, tilting his head a little. Anne gave a short nod as she made her way to the unlit corner of the balcony.
“Yes?” Anne gestured as she came face to face with a nervous looking young man.
“This is Thomas Sowden; he is the driver and valet for Mr Ainsworth and Miss Walker,” Samuel then turned to young Thomas, “Tell Miss Lister what you told me.”
Young Thomas couldn’t stop fidgeting as he stood in front of the host. Eyes lowered as he daren’t look up.
“Thomas,” Anne said gently, her head dipping a little to catch the young man’s gaze, “Miss Walker is a dear friend to my family. I would very much like to know what you have witnessed as it has clearly made you upset as well. Do understand that no liberties will be taken from you. I wish only for the truth.”
Young Thomas nodded slowly, exhaling as he softly recalled the incident.
“Mr Ainsworth pulled Miss Walker over to his seat and they were…” he paused for a moment, ears turning red.
“Go on…” Anne pushed gently.
“T-they were kissing, and I think Mr Ainsworth said something to Miss Walker. I couldn’t hear what it was. I couldn’t look in the rear mirror all the time because I was driving, and I didn’t want to get into an accident…” He blabbered on nervously, but Anne calmly nodded her head, taking every single bit of information.
“… the next time I checked my mirror, Mr Ainsworth had his hand around Miss Walker. He was choking her; I- I could see her face changing, and I hear her feet stomping against the floor of the car. I was so scared he would kill her. I didn’t know what to do so I pretended that we were near the entrance. I didn’t know what else to say to stop it. Miss Walker looked almost pale and I- I was afraid.”
“You pretended you were near the entrance?” Anne asked quietly.
“Y-yes… I had informed Mr Ainsworth that we were behind a few cars, and that it would be our turn soon.”
“Did he stop?”
“N-not really… H-He was startled, and Miss Walker had dashed to the other seat so quickly.”
Anne closed her eyes, her fists closing on its own, her jaw clenched in silent anger. Samuel regarded his boss carefully; it was clear that Miss Lister was very fond of Miss Walker. Regardless of the nature of their relationship or fondness, Samuel knew his boss was a protective woman. And if working for Miss Lister for the past 5 years have proven anything to him, he would expect Ainsworth to get what is coming to him soon.
“A-Am I going to lose my job?” Thomas whispered, sensing a change in the air after his revelation.
Anne took a deep breath as she composed herself.
“No, you are a good man, Thomas. You can keep the job, should you want to. And after tonight, should you need any form of employment, Samuel will be happy to assist you in finding one.”
“Thank you, Miss Lister, Mr Washington,” Young Thomas replied earnestly, giving a short bow before retreating hastily.
Anne lowered herself on the stone bench, forehead resting against her palm. “I wanted so badly to be wrong about this, Samuel,” she whispered.
Her faithful assistant stood closer in silent solidarity. His boss was not one to require comfort, but rather a physical presence of loyalty and Samuel knew he could easily provide that.
“Shall I pursue this further, Ma’am?”
Anne raised her gaze to the dark sky, features darkening as she recalled young Thomas’s words, paired with the image of Ann flinching against her husband’s touch. She lets out a breath as she rises from the bench, fingers making quick work to button her coat.
“Anything and everything, Samuel” She instructed as she glides past her assistant, heading back to the ballroom, “leave nothing out.”
* * *
“How are you dear?” Eliza Priestly gave two polite pecks on both cheeks as she grasped Ann’s shoulders tightly.
“I’m very well, Mr and Mrs Priestly. Thank you for asking,” Ann smiled as she shook William’s hand.
“Adapting well to married life, I trust?” Eliza gave a playful nudge as her husband let out a chuckle.
“Oh,” Ann laughed nervously, “Yes it’s been a good year for us.”
“Oh, where is he?” Eliza asked, “I hadn’t seen him since the wedding and William here, wanted to speak about some business. Things that bore us, women,” The older woman said blithely, waving her hand as if to dismiss it.
“He had just stepped out for a while,” Ann smiled politely; she hadn’t a clue where he had gone, but she was happy to be rid of him for a while. “Perhaps later you might still catch him,” she suggested thoughtfully.
“And who are we to catch?” a familiar voice crept behind Ann.
Ann found herself smiling a little as she turned around, greeted by the sight of Anne Lister; her brown shoulder length hair falling smoothly in place, her white coat unbuttoned, allowing Ann to sneak a peek at her black shirt neatly tucked in, and a pair of white pants tapered to her ankles.
“Miss Lister…” Ann lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. |
8f3519c80c464f38aa671268e53549bd | ['90b4bfa7e1ad4c2593e438d53a93dbf7'] | Cisco sidles up to his side, pressing a hand against the small of his back. “Don't worry. Jesse can take care of herself. She's a Wells.”
“If you think saying she's a Wells will instill confidence-”
“Hey, none of that. There is no doubt allowed in my Cortex. Eyes on the screen. Watch your daughter kick ass and take names.”
Harry nods, breathes in deep, and does as he's told. He leans into Cisco's touch, allowing it to hold him steady until the moment they see that Jesse is safe and the battle is won.
____
It takes an hour before the adrenaline high of watching Jesse risk her life and come out on top wears off. While they all gather around Jesse to congratulate her for her first successful mission, Harry finds a quiet place to sit, and reach acceptance of the fact that from now on, this will be his life; for better or worse. Jesse, saving the day, while Harry guides her home safely. The pride he feels in the woman she has become doesn't exactly make it easier, but it gives him hope that with time, he'll be just as skilled as Joe at pushing down the fear, and doing what needs to be done.
His own mental crisis dealt with, he gets up and sets out to track down Jesse. He eventually finds her tucked into a corner of the speed lab, and to his surprise, talking quietly with Cisco. He can't hear them; but their body language spells out the nature of the conversation easily to him. Cisco, shaking his head, and Jesse with a reassuring arm around his shoulders. A not unfamiliar duet of guilt and shame wells up inside him at the sight of it.
He tries to leave without being seen, but just as he is backing out, Jesse looks up and holds his gaze. She says something to Cisco, and he looks up too. Harry nods to them both, a signal that they can keep talking, and heads to his room to pack his bags.
____
“Dad?” Jesse says, when Harry is all but done.
He zips his bag closed, and waits for the inevitable scolding that he knows is coming. Instead, Jesse comes up and hugs him from behind. Harry turns to meet it, holding his daughter close to his chest.
“You did well tonight, Jesse Quick.”
“Thanks. So did you,” Jesse says. She pulls back, and Harry can see there are tears in her eyes. “Which is why I need you to stay here.”
“No,” Harry shakes his head forcefully. “No-”
“Listen, dad. I need you to listen. I don't need you any more, okay? Not the way you want me to need you. You can't keep using me as an excuse not to live your life.”
“You are my life.”
She tilts her head at him, consideringly.“Don't you think that's a little....sad?”
Harry pauses to wet his dry lips, and take a heavy seat on his cot. “When your mother died, I made one promise to myself. And that was to take care of you. I failed at that, for a long time. You may be older, and capable, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. I know you think having these abilities means you can do it all now, but, if you ask me, you're going to need me more than ever. Barry has Cisco, and Caitlin and Joe. You need someone to have your back too, if you're going to be the hero of our Central City.”
“I won't deny that having you there would make things easier, but like I said, I'm not going to be your excuse anymore. I'm not going to watch you be miserable and know you are playing martyr on my behalf. I won't do it. So, you find some way to sort this out with Cisco, or I won't let you help me, whether you follow me home or not.”
Once again, Harry finds himself left alone, yet another person storming out in the wake of yet another argument. He can feel his resolve crumbling, the stubbornness that has kept him on course in his aims fading. It isn't so clear anymore, that leaving is what he has to do. That doesn't mean he wants to face what staying behind signifies; for himself, for Cisco and for Jesse. Instead, he lets the promise he made to Tess echo through his mind; the last bastion against the realization that he just may be doing more harm than good by leaving.
____
Harry doesn't have to wait long for Cisco to darken his doorway. Only minutes later, he's there; looking impossibly small, but still with a stubborn jut to his chin.
“You're really leaving.”
“I am.”
Cisco takes a few careful steps forward. “Before you go, there's something I want to show you.”
“Oh, what's that?” Harry says, but there is no bite to his words. He's too exhausted, too tired of playing this game to muster up anything that sounds like he wants to resist whatever it is Cisco has in mind.
Cisco joins him on the cot, facing Harry, one leg tucked beneath the other. “Do you remember how I was able to vibe Iris into the speed force to save Barry?” Harry can only nod, unable to find his voice. “I don't need help doing that any more. If you'll let me, I can show you.”
“Show me what?” Harry asks, even though he knows Cisco can only be referring to one thing.
“Us. The other us. What we had.”
“I don't know if that's a good idea, Cisco.”
“Just trust me, okay? Let me show you this,” Cisco pleads with him and before Harry knows what he's doing, he's nodding his agreement.
“Close your eyes,” Cisco whispers as he takes both of his hands in his tight grip. | e14498a2b28548cda15f652369bd448b | ['90b4bfa7e1ad4c2593e438d53a93dbf7'] | Thomas wakes in a cold sweat, the sounds of falling shells and screaming men still fresh in his mind. The dreams don't happen very often, but when they do they rattle him to his core. He gets up, washing his face in his basin, accepting that there is no point in trying to sleep any longer with dawn on the horizon.
He feels the years now, in a way he never did before the war. His memories of his youth becoming hazier, his days in the trenches blurring together. Only in his dreams do they crystallize. He doesn't touch the memories of Jimmy, intent on keeping them far in the past where they belong.
He buttons himself into his suit, content to know that he has some hours yet before Lord Grantham rises. Time to shake off the dreams and remind himself of where he is. Three years now, back at Downton. Safe and sound. The war just a distant recollection.
He heads downstairs, busying himself with fixing a pair of shoes he has left by the wayside. By the time he finishes his mind is clear, his mood calm and breakfast is ready.
When he rounds the corner to the servants dining room, everyone is quiet and staring at someone.
“What have we here?” he remarks as he slips into the room. Only then does he see who they were staring at. Jimmy Kent.
“Hello, Mr. Barrow.” Jimmy grins at him, a smile Thomas was all but ready to lose to time.
Suddenly it's like no time has passed at all.
**Author's Note:**
> This was meant to be the very start of a story that tackled the S3 (and beyond) canon of Downton in a world where Jimmy and Thomas already knew one another. The words got away from me though, and I realized it would work better as a series. Part two should hopefully be coming soon, picking up where this one left off. And rest assured, their relationship will not have the same fate that it did in canon. I will not put anyone through that twice. ;)
>
> Fun history fact: The headline Thomas reads about the Somme (which in its first day saw 60,000 British casualties) was LINK.
>
> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr at LINK |
7fb90fee391a4e1faf3dbd8321c696f2 | ['90b8f6ea223e4db08fa92b486f756d35'] | When the day of the funeral arrived, he took his first shower in days. Then he dressed Ji-Na and packed the diaper bag with anything he thought he might need. He felt frazzled, lost, and weary. His heart ached. The cab ride was excruciating. He wanted to hurry up and get there, but he also wanted to never arrive. He knew everybody would be there. His parents. Her parents. Every family member within a 200 mile radius. Friends. Co-workers. He had never felt so much pressure.
He knew he would be constantly asked if he was okay. Ji-Na would be passed around to everyone that could get their hands on her. That scared him. He decided to tell his mother to only allow very few people to hold her. He wouldn’t be able to handle her getting sick from some idiot who didn’t know how to wash their hands.
The first person to greet him was his mother. Her face was twisted with pain. She had really loved her daugher-in-law and the look on her son’s face was enough to break her heart. She smiled sadly at him and gave him a short but tight hug. She didn’t say anything when she let go. She only lightly touched his face and smiled sadly at him. As if to say, “I’m sorry, my love. I wish more than anything that this hadn’t happened. I miss her too.”
Once her eyes landed on the covered carrier, her smile changed into one of pure joy. She immediately reached out and opened the little window to look at her grandchild’s face. She squealed with delight and then started to cry. Whether from joy or sadness, he didn’t know. He guessed it was a mixture of both.
“Why don’t I take her for a while? I’ll find her other grandmother and we’ll look after her.” She didn’t wait for his agreement. She took the carrier and disappeared into the crowd.
His father walked up to him and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, son. It breaks my heart that this happened. She really was a lovely woman.” He sighed and continued.”I’ve already talked with everyone to make sure no one bombards you with 500 ‘how are you?’ questions.” He made a face and Yoongi chuckled.
“Thanks, Dad.”
He made his way to the front where a picture of his wife sat, surrounded by flowers. She was smiling. His heart lurched in his chest. He wanted to reach out and touch her. But she wasn’t there, instead he knelt and bowed, his forehead touching the floor. He took this moment to let a few tears slip from his eyes. He wanted to wail and scream. He wanted to yell and ask the heavens why they would take her. But he never did. He knew it would be pointless. There would never be an answer.
He stayed in that position until it became unbearably painful. He sat upright again, wiping his eyes. He looked at he picture of his wife again for a moment before speaking. “I miss you. So much. You should be here with me. You should be here for Ji-Na. I don’t know that I can do this alone.” He sighed and stared at her smiling face. “I know. You believe in me. You always did. I promise to do my best. Now you have to promise to watch over us. We need you. Ji-Na needs you. I need you.” He continued, his voice cracking, “I love you.” With that, he stood and bowed again.
He found his way to the side of the room reserved for family. He put his back to the wall and slid down until he hit the floor, his head resting on his knees. He closed his eyes tight and wished that he was anywhere else. But the sound of crying and chatter kept him aware of exactly where he was. He raised his head just in time to see his best friend, Hoseok, walking toward him. Yoongi gave Hoseok a half smile as he approached and sat down next to him.
“Hey man.”
“Hey, Hobi. I’m glad you made it. I don’t know if I could have remained sane if you weren’t here.”
Hoseok smiled. “I met your daughter. She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“She looks just like you.”
“Thank…”
“I don’t even know how that’s possible.” Hoseok giggled quietly.
Yoongi let out a puff of air and rolled his eyes. “I happen to be very handsome, thank you very much. You need to get your eyes checked.”
Hoseok tapped Yoogi’s arm. “Hey. There’s something I want to ask you.”
“Okay?”
“I know this isn’t the best time, but it’s kind of urgent.” He paused. “Can I move in with you?”
“What?”
“Jimin is moving out of our apartment to go live with Jennie and I can’t afford to stay there alone. I would pay you rent and help with the other bills too.”
Yoongi thought for a second. “My mother put you up to this, didn’t she?”
Hoseok laughed nervously and scoffed.”What do you mean?”
“Hoseok. For one, you could afford to pay for three apartments. You’re the most sought after choreographer/performer in the whole of Korea. Two, you’re a bad liar.”
“I am not lying. Jimin really is moving out.”
“That’s beside the point. You all think I can’t do it alone, don't you?”
“Yoongi. Even you think that. I heard what you said earlier. Even if I hadn’t, just looking at you, I can tell that you’re not coping well. You need help. And I’m the best person for the job. I’m energetic and sunshiney. Ji-Na needs that. You need that. You have work to do, and I need something to fill my time.” He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. “I took an extended vacation. I’m not trying to step in and take over. I just want to help. Please, Yoongi. It’s better for both of you to have someone to help who isn’t your mother.”
Yoongi stayed silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”
Hoseok stood and looked down at his friend. “Okay. Just call me when you're ready for me to move in.” He smiled and walked away.
**Author's Note:**
> This is a series that I started for a friend. But she left the fandom. So the second chapter needs to be changed. I wasn't super happy with it anyway.
>
> If you all like this, I'll do it sooner rather than later | d6dd2f61fff54d78b0fbc3f004db731a | ['90b8f6ea223e4db08fa92b486f756d35'] |
Mended Hearts
**Author's Note:**
> WARNING: Minor Character Death
He paced outside the door still wearing scrubs. He had been shuffled out of the delivery room by the nurse before he could fully comprehend what was happening. His mind raced. Was everything okay? Were they okay? All of the emotions he was feeling made him unsure what to do with himself. He would pace and then sit over and over. It was like his body was battling between defeat and hope.
He had just sat back down when the doctor entered the small hallway from the delivery room. Never had he been so full of hope. ‘Everything is fine,’ he thought. Yoongi stood, an expectant smile curved his lips, but it fell as he took in the grim face of the approaching doctor. His heart sank, but he remained strong. “Did my baby not make it?”
“Your baby is fine. Perfectly healthy.”
He sighed with relief, but it was soon replaced with confusion. “Then why…” His body became numb as the realization hit him. “My wife…”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Min. We did everything we could to save her. There was just too much bleeding, We couldn’t stop it long enough to get her stable and perform a transfusion.” The doctor patted his shoulder slightly as she directed him back to the chair he had been sitting in only moments before. The chair where he had been so full of hope.
All of a sudden he hated this chair. He hated the wallpaper and the floor tiles. How ugly they were. The patterns on the carpet across the hall in the waiting room made his stomach turn. Everything looked gray.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the voice of the doctor. “You can go in and see her if you want. We will give you all the time you need, but we will be sending in someone to help you make arrangements.” They both stood and she spoke once more. “I really am sorry. I know this is difficult, but you are strong. I see that in you. Everything will be okay.” With that, she turned and walked away.
He decided right then that he hated her voice too. He hated her pity. He wanted to scream at her. What did she know of difficulty? What did she know of his strength? What could she know of his pain? How the hell would anything be okay ever again?
He checked his anger before he turned and looked toward the room where his dead wife lay, awaiting him. ‘Dead.’ He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. But he couldn’t deny it either. He started to walk at an agonizing pace. With every step his heart broke into smaller and smaller pieces. His whole body turned numb as he reached out and grabbed the door handle. He paused and took a deep breath in an attempt to control his emotions.
He turned the handle and slowly opened the door and stepped into the room. As his eyes landed on the face of his wife, he couldn’t fight it any longer. The outburst of his grief caused his knees to buckle and he landed on the floor, a broken man. His sobbing echoed back at him as the door was closed behind him by a nurse.
He had cried out all of his tears, but his heart wasn’t any less broken. Tears didn’t heal anything. They weren’t cleansing. They just made you tired and weak. They made you numb. He hated it. He vowed he wouldn't ever cry again.
The chair he sat in enveloped him and he fell asleep. He dreamt of the day he found out he would be a father. He was so happy. The overwhelming joy inspired him to compose a song. They would play the song for the baby by putting Yoongi’s headphones on her belly.
He dreamt of all the plans and preparations they made. The baby’s room was painted and furnished. He dreamt of all the time he spent talking to the growing child, sharing plans and dreams. He wanted to make sure his child knew his voice.
They decided to let the gender be a surprise and had each picked out a name. She chose for a girl and he chose for a boy. He was confident he would have a son. But he was fine with whichever they had. He was just happy to finally be a father.
His dream turned turbulent when he envisioned his screaming and bleeding wife. She was alone and dying and he couldn't get to her. He screamed and cried for help, but nobody came. The room had turned dark and only her screams could be heard.
The raw emotion of the dream jolted him awake. He'd only been out for 20 minutes. They had long since taken his wife to the funeral home. He had wanted to go with them, but they insisted that they would care for her. Family had been called and informed of the loss. He had insisted he didn't want anyone to come tonight. He needed to be alone. They had agreed to let him be and instead went to the funeral home to finalize the details. The service would be held in three days.
His hands ran over his face and through his hair.
“I don't know if I can do this.” He said to no one. He had always known this was a possibility. They had even talked about it. He had said he'd be fine. But of course, he never imagined he would actually lose her. ‘Maybe it's better for our child to be adopted by a whole family. So they can have a dad and a mom.’ This thought scared him. He was shocked at himself. |
a93cc6497a424946ba7f14d836b30a08 | ['90bb0680760d4feaa42dc24c8f041b20'] | Waterways aren’t your area of expertise, but as you have a basic familiarity with most plants, you think the color in your face could be well compared to an algal bloom.
“I don’t really need so much conciliating, really,” Aradia says, still holding your hand, looking so openly into your face that you’re sure your body is going to fall apart with the sensation of being pulled in all directions. Even with a kiss, you feel like it’s too much to hope for. She must find your held breath in your eyes, since she brings your hand to her bloodpusher, not bothering to angle your claws away. “But- but, oh, I’d be glad to let you take a little care of me.”
“Okay,” you say. You lean in to kiss her back, on her forehead.
“You’re so,” she tries, and yawns. “So gentle and cold. A pool in the desert.”
“And I’ll shelter you from the sands if you want to sleep,” you say, and support her to your couch. You draw the curtains to hide her from sunlight over the horizon and fetch water from the meal block to put in her reach.
“I’ll just nap a little,” Aradia assures you.
“Of course,” you say, and sit down to put your arms around her.
“Does that hurt?” you ask. “No,” she says. She leans into you, and in a few minutes her breathing steadies.
It’s a quiet morning. The day is barely begun, you’ve gotten Aradia Megido to sleep, and, wondering, you rest your cheek against her horn.
**Author's Note:**
> title taken from e.m. forster's howard's end, remix name taken from his notes for maurice | 3959737adc554c2396de4b44646abc21 | ['90bb0680760d4feaa42dc24c8f041b20'] | Galls in August
Terezi flicks out her cane a little too hard as she slinks away from the last attempts of the seatbelt to restrain her, tired, groggy, her senses still dulled from Jade's loud CDs and louder singing, the endless loops of green- brown- green- brown open space surrounding the five, like dead stretches of plains back on Alternia, her nose's linings about to crack from dehydration and the car's fan on high that found a way to blow directly into her face no matter how much she adjusted the little shutters in Jade's horrorterror of a vehicle.
"Here," Jade says, tossing a water bottle at her. She's sitting on the curb and trying to wriggle one foot into a sock while failing to inch the other into a sneaker. "Drink up! We've got loads of fun ahead of us."
"I will rescind my negativity when you demonstrate sufficient evidence for that," Terezi says. She's not too grumpy to steal away Jade's sock with her cane and flick it upwards before cracking open the water bottle.
"Oh my god, Terezi, ugh!! You got my sock stuck in an oak!" Jade's yelling, dog-intense, is echoed by screeches from the tree. "And you pissed off a scrub jay, they're the worst!"
Terezi, perception slightly restored by the gullet confiscation of most of the water, watches in satisfaction as her own angry scrub jay scrambles up the tree in a desperate rescue attempt.
-
They'd left SoCal when it was still dark, Terezi scribbling out a clear list of rules to prevent chaos in the apartment while she was gone before darting into Jade's car. Terezi was SO HYP3—but she'd never been in a moving vehicle for over an hour and the hundreds of miles Jade drove for were enough to denature her enthusiasm, newly sparked as it was from the mire she'd been in for the past few months.
"Well, you're bored, I'm tying up my fieldwork, I can come get you next week and you can hang out in Davis with me for a while," Jade had said the week before, blurry through a shit internet connection and an even shittier laptop screen that was damaged in a contest between Nepeta and Karkat over the remote control.
"I doubt I will be any less bored in a rural town! We live next to the UC here, I can't see why yours would be any different," Terezi had said, tapping some glitter onto her freshly painted hind claws. Red on red. Uninspired. And a small-scale isolationist hobby. She considered her feet. She was feeling weird lately. "Students and booze, big deal!"
"I just think it'd be fun to get to know you better! And Davis is full of- weird shit, you know? There's a toad tunnel," Jade said, gesturing with a spread that was, frankly, irresponsible.
"Oh," Terezi said, disgusted, "please tell me you did not base your choice of graduate study on continuing affection for frogs."
Jade yipped and blushed as Terezi jeered half-heartedly. But she did feel- a little different. A visit could be worth a try.
-
Something drops on the point of Terezi's horn. It's Jade's sock, covered in dust and stiff leaf fragments.
"HAH!" cries Jade, perched at the intersection of a couple of branches. "There! I survived your petty challenge. Though, now that I think about it," she said, peering down, "I'll probably need your expertise in getting back down. Didn't you live in a tree?"
Terezi, turning away in an affectation of disdain, notices a tiny popping noise underneath the hum of afternoon traffic and the murmur of trees. There are tiny spheres in the gutter, shuddering, jumping, shaking as if in anticipation of a calamity. Terezi briefly feels like His Honorable Tyranny, and then goes to exercise her might by showing Jade a successful tree escape plot.
Later Jade explains they're galls, or "basically little safes for baby wasps!"
Terezi smiles, remembering basic schoolfeeding, life cycle diagrams of the standard troll.
Jade continues, "They're cute, right? Different species have different shapes, like chocolate kisses, or wrinkly brain matter—gosh, I have so much to show you here! I'll get you interested in things again if it kills me."
"I feel your death may be called for, if you don't restrain yourself for my delicate condition," Terezi says, smacking Jade's shin with her cane. "But I accept your dare."
Terezi, generous, lets Jade kick her back.
**Author's Note:**
> Another rush fic to qualify for the Ladystuck Remix. Geh! |
c28155e7bb2245a0b6167b98f1a512d0 | ['90c85df2ce66404684d306553581fca1'] | When he woke up, it was night already. The car stopped, Kyle sat up in a panic and looked around to see where they were. Stan looked calm enough, parking the car near a dimly lit building. “Thought you could use some sleep.” Stan put the car keys in his pocket, grabbing whatever bags he could and stepping out. Kyle followed, confused. Before they could lock the car and leave, Kyle grabbed his partner's arm, waiting silently for an explanation. “We have to get some rest. This place is basically for... our company's managers and their... companions. I recognized the village's name on a road sign. No one's finding us here,” he assured Kyle and led the way, greeting the clerk who called him by his name. Kyle stayed aside, watching Stan banter with the boy as if he was an old friend. He didn't even feel tired anymore, sleeping the whole way there. But he thought he could eat a horse at that point.
Kyle was glad Stan knew this place since they came here so often, no one asked for any identification or papers or credit cards. It was like a safe haven for the night. Stan retrieved the card to their room, leading the way. But not before asking the boy to send up room service in a while. From what Kyle could hear, it was his usual suite. He still couldn't get over the fact of how unnaturally rural the hotel tried to look, still keeping a high level of class. The wooden walls and ceilings gave it a homey feel, along with fluffy cream carpets. “So... you come here often?”
“I try not to.”
“Not even with your... companions?” Kyle teased, pushing the card into a reader and pulling it out. He lit up the lights in their room, a spacious suite practically made of wood and fur. Stan made his way to the couch, setting his luggage there. “I hope you don't intend on sleeping there,” he heard from behind him, Kyle taking off his jacket. He laughed but it never occurred to him they'd sleep on the bed together. Before he did anything else, he opened the windows, letting in some fresh forest air. The hotel was far off the road, hidden between trees. If he remembered correctly, there was a lake nearby.
“I asked them to get us some food and wine. Hope you're in the mood for a salad,” Stan chuckled, digging through his luggage and disappearing into the bathroom for the hot bath he so desperately needed.
Kyle couldn't sit around waiting, taking the opportunity to sit down with his papers again, making all the calls he could. He sketched out their next days, writing over and crossing out ideas. The more he looked at it, the more it started to take form. It gave him some assurance, seeing they had a concrete plan. This might just work out.
Stan wasn't kidding when he mentioned the salad, Kyle taking small bites of the orange pieces that were thrown in. The wine arrived too but he decided to wait for Stan. The water stopped running and the bathroom doors opened, Stan stepping out in just a towel wrapped around his waist. Kyle turned around and as hard as he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the water droplets running down his chest but quickly looked away after realizing he's been staring for a second too long. The bathroom was full of steam but it was nothing, compared to how Stan looked at that moment. He forgot about the whole new identity ordeal for a second.
Before he left for the bathroom, he questioned Stan about that friend whose identity he'll be taking on. If he knew him well, his name, his birthday, his mother's maiden name, how he died, what he studied. It'd be important if he were to pretend to be him. Thankfully, they were great friends. He died in a traffic accident some years ago. He saw the sadness in Stan's eyes when he spoke about him but it could be just the point that made their plan work. He did have an identity for himself too.
He realized carrying out a plan like this would be incredibly hard. They take years to plan precisely and gluing one together over three days was more of a challenge than Kyle asked for. But something in him was glad he was going through it with Stan and no one else. He asked him to wait for him with the wine, Stan urging him to hurry up.
He came out and grabbed a glass of wine, standing near the window. The cold air felt even colder on his wet skin. Stan was sitting on the bed, now fully dressed to Kyle's disappointment. He managed to get him talking, glad to hear him speak and laugh. “How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” Stan sighed, spinning the liquid in his glass around. He looked through Kyle's plans while he was in the shower, worried about how they're going to carry out such a plan. But he put his whole trust in him, confident it'll work out. “It's still a little strange that I have a soulmate, though.”
“Strange?” Kyle questioned, a little worried about his answer. He really felt something when he was with Stan and if he doesn't... He never thought about whether Stan is okay with this. He wasn't sure about how Stan felt about him.
“Yeah, I.... never thought I'd have one. And now I do.” | 6b6c90fbb50c445387cccf87655a0570 | ['90c85df2ce66404684d306553581fca1'] | Kyle watched him suddenly curse as he reached over to the table, sucking on his thumb immediately. “What's wrong?” Kyle asked, seeing that his finger is still bleeding. He said he cut his finger on the pizza box. Kyle proceeded to dab his finger with a tissue while Stan continued to apologize for the past few days.
Kyle just whispered a quiet ‘it’s okay’ but before he could say anything more, Stan interrupted him. “Look, I got you something.” He reached down, behind the sofa, pulling out a teddy bear. It was almost the same as the one he got him on his second date, except bigger but with the same bow-tie and writing on its foot.
Kyle felt awful. He felt awful because of all the thought he had these past days. He blamed his wandering mind for coming up with such explanations and scenarios. He believed them for a moment. He never wanted to doubt Stan or his loyalty. Hearing him say it’s work and all and seeing he truly feels bad knocked those thoughts right out of his head. Stan, that’s what was on his mind now. Stan, Stan, Stan.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And everything felt right.
*
“Hey, could I borrow your laptop? Mine’s being repaired,” Kyle stuck his head into the bedroom with puppy eyes. “I just need to reply to some work emails.”
Stan said ‘sure’, pulling out his own laptop and logging in. His mind quickly went back to his book, barely paying attention to his boyfriend sitting next to him. It’s been a long time since he read a book, it was slowly gathering dust on his bedside table.
Kyle was doing his work, finishing up but a quick notification popped up in the upper right corner. Stan must have his phone and laptop connected. “Hey, I don’t mean to read your texts but someone’s asking if the reservation for two at... God, I can’t read that, it’s french. If that’s still up.”
Stan looked at him wide-eyed, not expecting it to pop up on his laptop. He swiftly took it from Kyle, answering the message. Kyle's wheels started turning, wondering if it's for them or someone else and Stan. He recognized the name, it was a fancy restaurant in the town. Stan looked fairly shocked and a little panicked that Kyle found out. Something didn't sit right. “You booked us a table?” he asked, trying to assure himself that after the date night, he had finally gotten his attitude together. He watched him closely, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth.
“Yeah, wanted to surprise you,” Stan gave him a little smile, quickly looking up from his laptop. He searched for his phone, rubbing his hand on his thigh. Kyle tried very hard to convince himself that he's just nervous because the surprise got ruined. That must be it, right? It must be.
“Great, tell them it's still up. What a great anniversary plan,” he stroked his thigh lightly before getting up and leaving the room. Stan's expression was enough for him, wide eyes and almost dropped his jaw. He struck a nerve, he thought. But he hoped he was wrong. Oh, how he hoped he was just paranoid.
Kyle wrapped himself around Stan's arm, hanging close as they made their way through the city at night. The dinner was already behind them as well as a few glasses of wine. The whole evening was so well-thought-out, Kyle was sure Stan must've planned this out for them. It left him feeling guilty again, that he doubted him. He squeezed his hand and looked up at his boyfriend, seeing that look and smile he was so weak for.
The cold river air was keeping him awake and sober and they slowly walked past the boats and benches, speaking very little. They didn't need to. Stan stroking his hand with his thumb and occasionally giving his hair a kiss was all he needed at that moment. And he chose to remember just that. He chose to forget how he seemed absent-minded the whole dinner, barely speaking. How Kyle basically had to drag him out for the walk, needing just a few more perfect moments in this fairytale that was falling apart in front of his eyes. He chose not to remember that the moment the apartment door closed, Stan leaned away from what would've been the only kiss of the night, saying he's too tired and disappearing in the bedroom. He didn't want to think about how he sat on the couch with a wine glass in his hand, sitting there in silence because he needed time to think. He didn't want to go sleep in the bed with Stan, he couldn't bear it. His mind was racing and even though he needed to sort it all out, he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts.
He didn't want this to be the end of his fairytale. The end of a relationship, sure, but not the end of idyllic fantasy.
As much as he tried to deny it.
This was the end.
*
Kyle leaned on the kitchen counter, waiting for Stan to come home. He knew he'd be late, he always was. He'd come in, smiling widely. He seemed so happy, happier than when he was with him. It was like a needle into the heart. He didn't even have the decency to end things with Kyle, he wondered why. He wondered why every time he'd come home smelling like someone else. The past days, he got so sloppy at hiding it. Maybe he thought Kyle didn't figure out anything but he also knew his boyfriend wasn't an idiot. |
77c40f9ff0c945e58325f9e5550cb13a | ['90da9b513dc843eab30b773646ebd322'] | Greg’s face split in a broad smile even as he ducked his head and shuffled his feet a bit. Merlin, he really was just a giant puppy dog. Draco smirked at him. “Things went well on the coffee date, I take it?”
Greg nodded and looked up, cheeks rosy. He looked young, and happy, and Draco felt a sharp shock of jealousy. Jealousy? Of Greg? No, he was happy for him. He was, truly.
Draco forced a smile onto his face. “Are you meeting her here?”
“Yeah, in a bit. Wanted to catch up with you first. Did I tell you?”
“Tell me what? You have more news?” Draco leaned in and lowered his voice. “Is it about our—”
“No,” Greg said firmly. “No actually, they gave me a raise and a promotion at Eeylops. I’m senior assistant in charge of Owl Wellbeing.” He beamed, literally beamed, at his friend. Draco found himself beaming back effortlessly.
“That’s brilliant, Greg! I’m proud of you. Let’s get you a drink, yes?” Draco walked towards the bar, waving Greg into a seat at the table he’d been occupying. Occupying and brooding at, if he were honest.
He couldn’t seem to stop wanting to thank Potter for his defense of Draco’s innocence. Partly it was gratitude, partly shame—since in fact Draco was not entirely innocent, even though he’d had nothing to do with the Holyhead incident. Mostly, he acknowledged uncomfortably, he wanted to explore that attraction that the Monitor had identified. After thinking about it—obsessing, really—it had occurred to him that the loss of the modifier “sexual” was a step up, not a demotion.
Potter was attracted to him. To all of him, not just his body. Potter was interested. In him. As a person.
It made him breathless, which pissed him off; but still, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was absurd. And pointless. He and Greg had to keep going, there were thousands of Galleons to be made and they weren’t exactly in a position to disregard that. Unfortunately.
Except Greg had just gotten a promotion. And a raise. Draco accepted the drinks he’d ordered from the bartender and walked back to the table, mind racing.
“So, that raise,” Draco opened. He wasn’t sure he ought to probe, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe the raise would be enough, maybe Greg didn’t really need the money so much now.
“Yeah, actually I was thinking,” Greg started, then took a huge swig of his lager, nearly finishing the glass. He wiped his mouth and started again. “I was thinking, Draco. Um. With this raise, I probably—don’t get mad, but I was thinking that maybe I could just, you know. Put the, er, business on hold. For a while. Just me, you know. You could still sell them, and you’re better at it than I am. You could sell mine! I don’t care. I just. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
This was, hands down, the most words Greg had ever strung together in Draco’s presence. Draco was speechless. And relieved.
“Yeah, I was wondering about that. I might, er, do the same. You know. Just for a while.” Draco flushed as how inarticulate he’d become. Greg didn’t seem to notice, but it was _telling._
He was doing this for purely practical reasons, he reasoned. It was getting dangerous; they’d already sold the most valuable pieces, and with the recent investigation it just didn’t seem worth it to continue. Especially if Greg didn’t need to. It wasn’t like he couldn’t start it up again, if this thing with Potter didn’t work out.
_This thing with Potter._ He’d just thought those words. Those words, in that order, had just crossed his mind.
He forced himself to pay attention to Greg, who had launched into another unprecedentedly long speech about how good things were at his job and how relieved he was to take a break from, you know, and how Luna was helping him come out of his shell. He nodded and smiled and all the while was thinking about those four words.
Luna arrived soon thereafter and Draco made his farewells, air-kissing her on each cheek and whispering in her ear, “Take good care of him.” She favored him with a luminous smile. It felt like a blessing.
\------
His heart was leaping about in his ribcage like an idiotic rabbit. Draco actually pressed his hand to his chest in an effort to calm it. He couldn’t believe the intensity of his physiological reaction to the sight of Potter’s door knocker in front of his face. If anything, he would have expected his dick to get in on the excitement, but it was strangely quiescent.
Draco lifted his hand to knock and was startled when the door opened before he made contact.
“Malfoy?” Potter said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lovely mouth.
“Potter,” Draco said, inclining his head politely. “I’ve, er, I was just in the neighborhood.” Oh, very smooth, he thought to himself, suppressing an eyeroll.
“Er, yeah,” Potter grinned. “And you’ve been on my doorstep for five minutes.” He chuckled but tried to turn it into a cough. “The wards chimed.”
Draco wished there were a spell to prevent blushing. The slightest increase of blood flow showed up on his fair skin like blazes, it was monstrously unfair.
“May I come in, please?” he asked flatly, taking refuge in etiquette as his mother had taught him.
Potter sobered and said, “Of course. I was just having some tea. You should, er, join me.”
Draco stepped into the foyer, noticing how warm and inviting it looked, how good the house smelled. Potter brushed past him to lead the way to the sitting room, and he followed, eyes trained helplessly on that incredible arse.
“It smells good,” Draco said as his eyes alit on the table full of tea cakes and scones. | adf2897ce4244177ab8ea8edf54411d7 | ['90da9b513dc843eab30b773646ebd322'] | “Fuck you. I’ll do it.” Harry lets go of Draco’s hands and prowls around the table, coming right up behind him and reaching around to undo the buttons. Draco straightens up and leans back against him, giving his hands more access, pressing his arse to Potter’s groin. Potter inhales sharply but keeps unbuttoning the shirt, hands shaking.
Draco watches his hands as they reach the point where the shirt is tucked into the tight trousers he’s wearing. Potter is hesitating, wrestling with the need to pull the shirt out so he can unbutton it the rest of the way. Draco grabs his hands and puts them on his waist, saying, “Go ahead and pull it out, Potter. I know you want to.” Potter growls and pushes his fingers into the top of the trousers and then completely loses the plot.
Instead of unbuttoning any more buttons and removing the shirt, one of Potter’s hands slides further down into Draco’s trousers, urged by Draco’s fingers and undulating motion against him. His other hand reverses course to slide roughly over Draco’s now mostly-bare chest, stroking urgently. Potter’s face is buried in his neck, hot breath on his ear; Draco can hear how lost he is to the world and it makes his cock twitch hard in his pants.
By this point, Potter’s fingers have squirmed all the way into his trousers and found the tip of Draco’s cock. They press against the head, starting to push and squeeze, finding the size and shape of him. Draco undoes the fastenings on his trousers and suddenly Potter’s hand has a lot more room to maneuver, which he takes advantage of. His hand grasps the full length of Draco’s cock through his pants and his hips buck against Draco’s arse, hard and involuntary.
Draco groans, in the fantasy and in reality, and reaches up behind him to slide one hand around the back of Harry’s neck, playing with his hair and holding him in place. The other hand pushes his pants down around his thighs and he leans across the table, inviting Harry to follow him.
Something breaks in Potter then—he grunts as he pulls his hands back to deal with his own trousers and pants in a split second, then pulls the shirt off Draco with one swift motion, the remaining buttons pinging onto the floor and rolling away. His hands return to Draco’s body, roaming over his back and shoulders, grabbing at his waist, his hips. He’s practically panting, he sounds like an angry animal. Draco has never been harder in his life.
He leans further over until his chest is flush with the hard surface of the table, arms stretched out in front of him and arse thrust out in an unmistakable posture - not of submission, but of demand. He looks over his shoulder to see Harry staring fixedly at his arse, putting his hands on it and squeezing, pushing, pulling it apart. He looks like he’s about to eat Draco alive.
“You going to do something or you just going to stare?” he says with a challenging smirk.
“Fuck, I’m going to-” Potter waves his hand and Draco’s arse tingles from a cleaning spell. He himself murmurs _Lubricus_ and watches Potter’s eyes widen as a trickle of wetness slides out of his hole. He licks his lips and strokes his cock up and down, then meets Draco’s eyes as he lines up. “I’m not just going to stare, Malfoy,” he growls.
Imagining the press and slide of Potter’s cock into his arse was enough to bring Draco to completion, two fingers up his hole and his cock jetting come all over the silk upholstry. Draco thunked his head back on the cushion and groaned. He was still hard, even after all that-- fuck, he was going to have to wank twice in a row. Working Potter out of his system was not going to be a quick thing, evidently.
This time he would fantasize about taking Potter over the table.
\-----
“Draco?” Greg’s voice boomed from the Floo. “You there?”
Draco knelt down by the grate and said “Come on in, Greg. You know you don’t have to ask.” He stood and stepped back to allow Greg ample room to enter. He always stumbled in and nearly knocked over the furniture; Draco didn’t want to get in his way.
Greg came through in the usual fashion, lumbering and coughing in a cloud of ash and soot. “I should charge money for cleaning people’s Floos,” he muttered, and Draco chuckled.
“It’d be a good side gig. What’s going on?”
Greg sat heavily on the sofa and sighed. “I have this thing I think I could get good money for but I can’t find the right buyer. I’m afraid—I think it’s powerful and I don’t want—you think I could borrow the Monitor? Or maybe you could sell it for me? I’d go halves with you.”
Draco covered his face with his hand. “Look, I can’t let the Monitor out of my sight. We talked about this. We agreed that my father had far more dangerous items and Greg, you know I— you’re my friend but you lose things. We can’t lose this.”
Greg looked at him with the puppy dog eyes of a very large and dangerous puppy. Draco was unmoved. “Look, I’ll help you find a buyer. We’ll go down the list and make some calls.”
“Okay. I was thinking...there’s this one guy Montefiore, he’s loaded and my list says he was invited to my dad’s place a couple of times.” |
90170982893047c29bc19d8688fbb044 | ['90f0c002b6fe40fd9b6e420dd69cdcd0'] | The two’s lips connected perfectly as if they knew each other already so well. Indie reached up to cup the soft cheek of Luke’s as he deepened the kiss, parting his lips. The lad happily did the same and followed suit, opening his mouth up more for Indiana to take control. He couldn’t help the soft putts escaping him as the man got closer and closer until Luke was seated back on his desk again with Indy between his legs. The blonde reached up and carefully took the man’s glasses off his face making Indiana stop and watch him as the lad puts them on. He looks even cuter with glasses.
“I have 20/20 vision. How can I see perfectly out of these?” Luke asked with a giggle. The man just smirked and took them off the boy, tossing them onto the desk aside. He placed his hands on Luke’s waist.
“They’re for show, kid.” He said and kissed the boy again, both smiling into it. The man began to trail off from the kiss and make his way down Luke’s jaw to his neck. He kissed his soft skin and sucked lightly on it. The boy humming with pleasure as he did. Luke’s hands going up to his hair and combing through it.
“Damnit, Luke.” Indy said softly as Luke tugged at his hair. The man rolled his hips onto him, groaning lightly into his ear, making Luke shiver.
“Mister Jones?” He purred. “Who do you like more? Me? Or my sister?” Luke asked innocently but with obvious intention. He brought Indy’s face back to his and kissed him hotly for a moment, waiting for an answer.
Ok, this is going to sound bad. But Indiana /WAS/ just a little bit interested in Leia. Shit. It’s bad. Looking at students that way. Ugh! He shouldn’t! She is so headstrong and smart, kinda the opposite of Luke. And her eyes just pierce through you.
Luke obviously got annoyed by the hesitation. He grabbed Indiana’s belt and pulled aggressively close as possible to him. The man looked into his eyes.
“You. You. Defiantly you, baby.” He nodded and kissed Luke to confirm it, making the boy happy again. He’s not lying either. He would choose Luke over her. Though she is incredibly smart, she has an attitude. She’s not as fond of him like most girls are. Also, Indy would choose Luke over all those brats because he’s not as... upfront with his desire for him. The girls in that class just throw themselves at him while Luke was very discreet. All the boy did was just glance at him for a second and Indiana was hooked for the rest of the class. “Luke you are perfect.” The man said and rolled his hips harder into the boy, making Luke do the same to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Jones.” Luke huffed softly as he bit his bottom lip. Indiana looked up at him.
“Just say my name, kid.” He said smoothly and watched the lad’s cheeks become redder. Luke nodded and pecked his lips while whispering,
“Indiana~”
“Fuck, Luke.” He moaned softly and pushed the boy so he laid down on the desk. This was defiantly risky, and he could lose his job and reputation if someone finds out. But that’s why no one is going to find out. Indiana began to undo his own belt, hands slightly shaking as he did so. He didn’t need to tell Luke too cause the kid got the memo, undoing his own bottoms and pulling them down to his knees where he kicked them off. The lad blushed a deeper red now at Indian as the man’s eyes once again looked at him. His briefs were tight against his member which was pressed against them. It was the same for the man as he devoured this sight.
His hands grabbed Luke’s thighs and squeezed them. They were incredibly soft as if this boy hasn’t run a day in his life. He bent down to kiss his inner thighs, his hands spreading his legs as he went down. Luke stomach fluttered like crazy with all these touches he was receiving, reaching down to comb his fingers through Indy’s hair again. The man closed his eyes for a second at Luke’s needy touch before he pressed his lips against the clothed member of the boy’s, making Luke’s grip on his hair tighten just a bit.
“Indy, please don’t tease.” He said with a pout.
“You’re gonna have to be quiet, Luke. Or we can’t do this.” He told the lad with a loud whisper. Luke understood with a nod and a light sigh.
“Please just... touch me, Indiana.” Luke groaned, his back arching a little, begging for a touch. Indiana did as he took one hand and palmed Luke gently, and the other hand rubbing his inner thigh. The lad moaned softly in response. Indy stood up and he pressed his own hips to Luke’s bottom. Rubbing his clothed, hard cock against him. He made a sound in his throat and Luke brought his head back, trying to push his hips against the man. He did that while his hands still roamed all around Luke’s body while the boy tried to bring them even closer by wrapping his legs around Jones’ waist.
When the friction got too much for them both Indiana panted softly, looking frantically around the room.
“I-i don’t have any plastic.” He said breathlessly and looked down at Luke who held the packet in his hand already. “How?”
“I always carry one around.” The lad hummed and gave it to the man.
“I dunno if I should be impressed or-“ | 706fa1d54c554ab686e55075507d0324 | ['90f0c002b6fe40fd9b6e420dd69cdcd0'] | _He doesn’t know what Lando was really thinking or doing after he left him. Luke only knows that he hurt the man by leaving him there._
_The rest of the months leading up to the rescue of Han were regular after that. Luke and Lando still spoke to one another but they never actually sat down again and spoke. They would have a quick conversation here and there, pretending like nothing ever happened._
_Leia thought they got into a fight. She never pressed Luke or Lando for information, she couldn’t bother. She was worried about Han, maybe more than Luke for a bit._
...
Luke gasped awake unexpectedly in bed. He looked around and found that it was only himself there. He doesn’t even remember going to bed but here he was, in his nightgown in the bed.
He rubbed his face and sat up more, pulling the blankets off of him.
“Lando...” He whispered.
He keeps thinking about him, dreaming about him. It must mean something.
Luke got up off the bed and he began to walk out of his room, not bothering getting dressed.
Pete, the trooper, was surprised to see Luke up at this time.
“Sir, are you-“
“Yes, Pete. I’m fine. I just need to find Han.” He said clearly.
He said it clearly.
Oh yes. He went to the medical bay. They must have healed him and he clunked out. That’s what happened he thinks.
That doesn’t matter though. He needs to get Han.
Luke walked the cold empty halls of the Star Destroyer bare foot. The few people who were walking around stared at him a bit weird but didn’t say anything or complain. He is Vader’s son after all. He could do whatever he wants.
When Luke got to the docking bay he saw the Falcon there with its ramp closed. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and kept walking up to it. Two guards stood at the bottom.
“Please leave.” Luke said and with the flick of his hand, the ramp to the Falcon began to descend. The troopers nodded then marched away quietly.
Luke entered the quiet ship and looked around at first, for any signs of Chewbacca or Han. All he saw though were wires and tools everywhere. Nothing new though.
“Han? Chewie?”
He kept walking slowly until he got to the cabin where he opened the door and saw the two sitting there, talking to someone in a hologram in front of them.
It was Lando.
His eyes widened and the two males turned around and looked at Luke. Han hung up the call before quickly getting up and closing the door behind Luke.
“Hey, kid... it’s not what it looks like.” He said with a nervous smile. Han knows he shouldn’t be contacting any rebels, and if he does, he’ll be in a crapload of trouble with Vader.
“That was Lando.” Luke said and poked Han’s chest. Han looked down at the boy's finger then took Luke’s hand, holding it. He tried to wiggle his hand free.
“Tell me what you were talking about!” He raised his voice. It wasn’t a very angry voice, there was more concern in his voice than anything. Han took Luke’s other hand and put them up to his chest, rubbing them.
“Why? Why do you need to know, huh?” He asked slyly and raised an eyebrow.
The blue-eyed male glared at Han and looked down at their hands, then at Chewie who was watching them.
“Chewie. Tell me.”
The Wookiee roared slightly and then looked forward again, pretending to do something.
“It was Han’s call...”
Han looked at Chewbacca with that annoyed look and sighed.
“Please. Please. Don’t tell your dad.” He whispered. He couldn’t keep anything from Luke, especially with those blue eyes looking into him. Luke shrugged and then slowly nodded.
“Fine. Just spit it out!”
Han exhaled and looked down at their hands.
“Lando is in trouble-“ he began.
‘I knew it.’ Luke thought to himself.
“He called in need of some help. It’s the Empire.” Han said dreadfully.
Luke watched Han’s lips as he spoke and looked down as well when he mentioned The Empire being the problem. He can’t do anything! That would be against everything he stood for. And after what happened today...
“Han..”
“I know! I know Luke! You don’t have to go. But please! He’s our friend!” He exclaimed.
“He’s-He’s part of the rebellion...” Luke mumbled to himself. Han rolled his eyes and let go of Luke’s hands. Luke looked up at him.
“Luke! We have to help him!”
“No..”
“LUKE-!”
“Han I said NO!” He yelled back, the ship beginning to creak and groan as Luke’s power began to leak from him uncontrollably.
Chewie looked at the ship and growled loudly.
“Stop! Han!” He yelled, wacking Han to do something.
And Han did. He grabbed Luke by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Closing his eyes and tilting his head.
Luke was going to protest this but the longer they stayed together, the better it felt. The better he felt. He finally closed his eyes and kissed the rugged man back.
Chewie rolled his eyes and banged his head on the front console. He hates it when they kiss. Well... he’s fine with it but Luke’s a bad guy! Han shouldn’t kiss bad people! Right?
It took a few moments to part but when they did they had to catch their breath. Luke put his fingers through Han’s messy hair.
“Han.. my father..”
“He won’t know. I promise. I promise.” He said gently and brushed his lips against the others. That always got Luke, it still has.
Luke nodded and put his hands on Han’s chest.
“I’m coming.” He said, clearing his throat.
Han was about to protest but Luke put a finger to his lips. |
58d72353630046bb8d92b97fc0f7a508 | ['90f18fd6bdad4143ac10049d050e1163'] |
1. Day 1: Armor
**Author's Note:**
> ooo boy let’s hope I can stay on top of this week; I only have some days prepared OTL. Even so here’s day one (armor was probably one of the harder prompts to write imo)
>
> My personal and fic tumblr is LINK!
At first, Hinoka thought her issue with Princess Camilla’s armor was the impracticality of it. It didn’t cover multiple vital points and left her severely open to enemy attacks during battle; it was ridiculous to wear into a life or death situation. Sure, Hinoka’s outfit may have been made out of cloth instead of metal, but it at least covered herself better than Camilla’s armor. After a while however, Hinoka realized that it wasn’t the functionality that bothered her.
(Well, it did, but that wasn’t the main reason.)
What bothered her was how _ good _ Camilla looked in her armor. Even in civilian wear Hinoka found herself struggling not to stare and admire Camilla, but when it came to her armor that was a whole other beast. War councils were a personal kind of torture as Hinoka was unfortunate enough to be seated across from Camilla with her in perfect view, and Hinoka had to reject her offers to train together several times to save face. After all, what would the army think if she was caught ogling at Camilla like an idiot simply because Hinoka couldn’t keep her emotions in check long enough to go through a mock-battle?
Hinoka had even pushed aside enough of her pride to go to Sakura and see if there was anything she could do to help. Some kind of medical salve that could get rid of her attraction to Camilla. When Corrin ended up hearing about it, she had laughed and told Hinoka that there was no ‘quick-fix’ to get over her feelings. That it wasn’t some battle wound she could just heal.
(Hinoka was almost _ positive _ that half of the ‘advice’ Corrin gave her was quoted directly out of a trashy romance novel.)
Hinoka bit the inside of her cheek and stared at the war council table, tapping her nails against the wood as others filed in for the meeting. It’s not that she wanted to get _ rid _ of her feelings per say, just lose them for a while. They were in the middle of a war! She didn’t have time to trip over her words and fail to make eye contact with a fellow royal simply because Hinoka found her to be too beautiful. It was absurd! It was undignified!
Hinoka glanced up as Camilla took her seat opposite to her, once again clad in her risque, troublemaking armor. Hinoka’s fingers itched to touch Camilla’s skin, to run through her well-cared for hair. She bit her cheek harder in retaliation. This was absolutely _ ridiculous _ . She was a member of the Hoshidan royal family and she was letting herself lose against a simple outfit. Although, Hinoka mused, it was probably the wearer’s fault more than the actual armor. Nevertheless, inanimate objects would always be easier to blame for things.
Camilla caught Hinoka’s eye and smiled warmly, face bright and content. Hinoka forced herself to give a weak smile back before looking away completely, trying to keep her face from betraying any emotion.
“Is something wrong, Hinoka?” Camilla asked innocently from across the table. “You look a little under the weather.”
“Who? Me?” Hinoka said, laughing faintly. “I’m fine, thank you for asking Camilla. I’m just… a bit tired, I guess.”
Camilla tsked. “Then after this meeting you should go and relax. It’s damaging to the whole army if you’re not feeling your best.”
Hinoka drummed her fingers rapidly, still not quite managing to look at her. “I don’t think it’s that extreme Camilla-”
“Nonsense,” Camilla waved impatiently. “I’ll curl up in bed with you myself if it’ll get you to rest.”
Hinoka furtively refused to let herself think about something as domestic as sleeping beside Camilla. She made herself meet Camilla’s warm eyes, schooling her face into a neutral expression. “I doubt that will be necessary, but thank you.”
Camilla sighed as if disappointed, but kept her smile. “As you wish, Princess Hinoka, but make sure you get some rest or you might be left without a choice next time.”
Hinoka gave a slight nod, looking back down at the table. She really shouldn’t find what was an oddly loving threat as endearing as she did. She exhaled sharply through her nose, picking slightly at her nails through her glove. She eyed Camilla warily through her bangs. Maybe there was something in the Nohrian water that made their women so ethereal? Hinoka glanced down at Camilla’s armor, pale skin exposed to the world.
Hinoka groaned and ran a hand over her face, hoping her blush wasn’t apparent. Maybe she’d pester Sakura again for some kind of inhibitor because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on swooning over Camilla before she completely lost it.
2. Day 2: Endings
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Happy day two everyone~~
Selena was gone from Beruka’s life just as quickly as she had entered it.
At first, Beruka didn’t trust Selena even when she was appointed as Lady Camilla’s second retainer. To her, Selena and her companions spelled nothing but foreboding trouble and Beruka was determined to keep Lady Camilla far away from it. As time went on however, even she had to admit that Selena had become a welcomed feature in their lives. | 21a6d49d937c43739ed21c8ea33a1db6 | ['90f18fd6bdad4143ac10049d050e1163'] |
**Author's Note:**
> Day 6 of Rarepair Week! Final stretch! Wooooo! Used the prompts "Watching" and "Hello" although I guess "Dancing" has a minor role here
Xander watched Takumi from the edge of the room, through the crowd of milling people talking and dancing. Takumi was oblivious to him staring and Xander was grateful for that at least. He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to actually approach Takumi or not - as far as the prince knew, Xander had little reason to speak with him beyond political affairs.
Xander usually abstained from drinking heavily or at all when it came to social events, paranoia always running through him over what he might end up doing. He could tell even from far away though that Takumi had a small glass of wine in his hand. Xander wondered if Takumi felt any repercussions from the night before or if he was still too young to feel the effects come morning.
_“Hey,” Takumi slurred, wrapping his arms around Xander’s waist from the back. “This stupid castle is too_ big, _help me find my room so I can- pass out.”_
_Xander went stiff, almost affronted by what was happening. Few people had the audacity to just_ grab _him like this. He glanced over his shoulder at Takumi before pulling his arms off of him. Once Xander turned around, Takumi’s face filled up with confusion._
_“Oh, whoops, you’re not Leo.” Takumi let out a juvenile snicker. “He only wishes he could be.”_
The morning breakfast between the royal families held no awkwardness. Or perhaps it did and Xander didn’t realize. Takumi hardly batted an eye at him the whole time, but that was normal wasn’t it? Or was he usually more friendly towards Xander, and now was abstaining from it? For all the attentiveness Xander had towards Takumi, he couldn’t fully remember how he acted before all of this.
Xander itched to grab a glass for himself but if he was going to strike up a conversation it would have to be sober. The last thing he needed was to be tipsy and spilling out things he shouldn’t. No, he would have to do this sober or not at all.
_“How much have you had to drink tonight, Prince Takumi?” Xander asked, eyeing the redness of his face._
_“Was I meant to keep track?” Takumi bit his lip, thinking for a moment before giving a sharp laugh. “I don’t really know. I just wanna go sleep before I end up falling off a balcony or something.”_
_“Fair enough,” Xander sighed, turning Takumi by the shoulders towards the hall they needed to leave through. “Perhaps tomorrow night for the second half of the ball, you should drink less.”_
_“Mm, I can take care of myself,” Takumi mumbled, stumbling over himself as he walked._
_“... Right.”_
“Feeling alright, Xander?”
Camilla had appeared next to him, a small knowing smile across her lips. She was swirling wine in a glass but it didn’t seem like anything had been drunk from it. Out of everyone, she was the closest to knowing how Xander felt. To knowing how much of a _schoolboy_ he was acting at the moment.
“I’m fine, sister, thank you,” Xander said. “No partner for the evening?”
Camilla laughed. “Not for tonight. You can’t wed me off that quickly.”
“I wasn’t trying to get rid of you.”
“I have a feeling you are now.”
“If only because I know what you’re here for.” Xander sighed. “Leave it be, Camilla.”
Camilla huffed and folded her arms. “I don’t see what the big fuss is, brother. Do you need your sister to teach you how to talk to someone?”
“No, Camilla, I would like it if you left this alone though.”
_Navigating someone drunk through the halls was a more complex task than Xander originally imagined. Takumi seemed to get fascinated by small things, and if a passerby stopped to chat Xander would have to spend time searching for him later. Why did he set the guests rooms so far from the ball?_
_Balconies tended to be Takumi’s go to spot to be in when disappearing. Xander had to admit it was a pretty sight out there, with so much of Nohr lit up from lights and a hope for a better ruler in him. It was not, however, a very safe place for a drunk man to be at._
_Takumi slouched over the railing, not even noticing when Xander walked out there with him. Or maybe he just didn’t care to acknowledge him. The stars were still visible up above despite all the lighting, and Takumi alternated between staring up and then down at the ground._
_“Nohr is pretty when it isn’t depressing and all,” Takumi said. “I still don’t understand how Nohrians don't burn to ash from any kind of sunlight though.”_
_Xander gave a small smile. “It’s a talent, I assure you. Now come on, aren’t you still tired?”_
_Takumi groaned, resting his head against his folded arms. “But it’s_ nice _out here. It’s cool and not stuffy like inside.”_
_“You can’t sleep out here, though,” Xander said, grabbing his arm with a firm but gentle grip. “I fear your brother may have an issue with me leaving you here in such a precarious position.”_
_Takumi made a small face but didn’t comment any more, following Xander back inside. He leaned heavily against him even after Xander removed his hand, and any ease he had flew away at the contact._
_“Can you no longer walk by yourself?” Xander asked, torn between shoving Takumi off and letting him stay like that._
_“Mm, no. I’m fine.” Takumi made no move to adjust himself, and so they carried down the halls like that._
_Takumi was a warm weight against his side, and Xander prayed to the gods they wouldn’t encounter any more people. Rumors spread quickly in Nohr, and he didn’t think Ryoma would appreciate knowing about this either._ |
d635e37bd29340e68bc89832062d7a94 | ['90fafe59df2f4637966e1a9cb8a30914'] | “God… that’s it, baby…” Eddie’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as his cock was massaged by her supple tits, the swollen tip only emerging from between them when she pulled them down. Just as he was about to wrench his head down to watch her, she went right to the next stage. Her tongue rolled out and slathered his shaft, licking all the way to the tip where she wrapped her lips tightly around it. When she sucked, it was like being milked by her mouth, and she eased the tendrils of her hair gently around his balls to tease them.
“Fuck… fuck yeah, Symby…” Eddie let his moans out as his head fell back, and he felt blindly for her head so he could push her up and down his aching cock.
**“You taste delicious, Eddie…”** He didn’t know how she was speaking when her mouth was full, but he was glad he could hear her. Her voice, her moans as she slurped up his dick, the squish of her mouth drenching him in her fluids… and the click of his answering machine.
_“Uh, hey Eddie, it’s Pete… look, about your job, I… I really am sorry…”_
With one hand still trapped in the ooze of her hair, Eddie used the other to reach for the receiver on his desk, and swallowed his growls- both of arousal, and fury at the sound of Peter’s voice ruining the mood.
“Hey, bro…” He lay the fake friendliness on thickly, to mask the ache and anger in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something else to do…” He looked down at Symby, his cock still lodged in her throat, and smirked. He’d already found something else to ‘do’.
“How ‘bout we meet up after class?” he asked, squeezing his eyes closed as Symby pulled her tongue back from around his shaft.
“ _Er, raincheck. I really need to be with Aunt May.”_
Eddie squashed a moan as Symby sucked back some of the saliva dribbling out around his dick. “Sure, sure… we’ll see each other again soon.” He hung up, with a dark mutter of “ _Spider-Man"_ that was half from him and half from Symby. Then he looked down at her, pulling her chin up so he could see her eyes, and he growled.
“Did I tell you to stop?” | dbfc441731474d53b19510165b2b63db | ['90fafe59df2f4637966e1a9cb8a30914'] |
Hanging On By A Thread
**Author's Note:**
> I got an anon describing a Gwenom scenario involving her hanging upside down by a string of Venom jizz and I haven’t stopped thinking about it so here you go. I hope you're proud of yourself, slime anon, also sorry for completely stealing your idea.
>
> (I'm working on an actual fic that explains how these two get together I swear, I'm just lazy as fuck)
Not many people could fully accept the fact that there were worlds other than their own, and even fewer could comprehend just how many there were. It took a long time for Gwen to qualify for the first group, and it would take even longer for the latter. If she _ ever _ could, that is.
For now, she found it easiest to see universe-hopping like escaping into a book or a movie (or a cartoon, in the case of Earth-92131. She’d never forget being stuck in five frames of animation a second). Don’t like this world? Just jump over to a better one. Or a worse one, and be glad you weren’t born in it. Like Earth-1218! Jeesh, what a dumpster fire _ that _ place was.
She wasn’t sure what to qualify 616 as just yet, since it seemed all the insane shit happened on that one and everyone else got dragged in to sort it out. But it did have one thing that home couldn’t compete with;
A big slime monster, with a big slime cock, who she didn’t need to keep a mask on around. Being dead in one universe sure had its perks.
**“You sure about this?”** Venom growled on top of Gwen, pinning her flat against the rooftop with his hips as they lightly pushed into hers. Pretending to hesitate when really he was toying with her. The outline of his erection rebelled against the symbiote covering him, bulging out of the ooze but not quite springing free. He always kept it covered when it went inside her, but she was curious. She wanted to see what his cum felt like, not kept contained inside his symbiote.
“I told you already, _ yes. _ I’m on the pill, else I… wouldn’t ask.” Gwen tried to force her hips closer to his, but he was holding them tightly in place with his claws, only lightly rubbing against her exposed pussy as his thumbs held her suit open (after Venom kept ripping the crotch out, she’d finally gotten around to putting in a zipper down there). She squirmed against the roof beneath her, pressing her head back against the hood cushioning it.
“Now stop… mmh, teasing me already… fuck me, Eddie…”
It was a trick she’d very quickly learned to use against him; the monster was Venom, but it was the human underneath the symbiote who did the fucking. And he always liked hearing her moan for him. She smiled around heavy breaths as he growled again, this time rumbling against her ear as his tongue flicked along her face. With his massive abs pressing hard against her body, squashing her tits and securing her under him, he swung one of her legs over his hip while the other lay crooked on the ground, letting him open her up. His other hand freed his cock from his suit, black ooze dripping as he pulled back some of the symbiote from the tip. Precum glistened on his naked head, shinier than the rest of his powerful black body.
“ **We recommend that you hold on tight.”** Venom curled his tongue across her neck, feeling her voicebox vibrate as she moaned. With his cock nestled firmly between her shaking legs, he pushed it inside in one fluid movement.
“Ahhhahh…. mmmmhh… God…” Gwen kept forgetting just how big he was, how _ good _ he felt as his symbiote oozed inside her, filling every crevice of her pussy as his dick throbbed away. She could almost see it bulging through her suit, falling away and then coming back as he slowly pistoned his hips. He always started out slow… just to hear her beg.
**“You want us to go faster?”** His tongue drooled all the way down her face as he hissed, and she felt tendrils teasing her clit with each stroke of his dick.
“Yes… fuck yes, Eddie… faster…” She clawed at his head, encouraging him to keep licking as she pushed back against the slam of his hips, trying to set a pace that would… yes, yes, she was cumming already...
“Ahh… aaahahhh!” Gwen almost lifted off the ground from how her back arched, letting him drill as deep as he could reach as she rode out the climax that swamped her whole body. Sweat drenched her suit and dampened her hair as she ran her hand through it, trying to grip her skull as her muscles spasmed wildly. She felt Venom’s chuckle through his tongue wrapped around her face.
**“You don’t usually give in so quickly. We must be doing something right.”** God, he was so arrogant sometimes. But Gwen wouldn’t have kept coming back if he wasn’t. The fact that she couldn’t even retort, when the only sounds she could make were moans and whines, was all the answer he needed anyway. He pulled back so that only his tip was still inside, her slick dribbling out past it, and with a tired moan Gwen noticed something.
His cock wasn’t black anymore. The sensation of her naked walls clutching his shaft was too much temptation for Eddie to resist. And he was panting already, chest heaving against her as his hot breath beat against the saliva patches all over her. He wasn't going to last much longer either.
“You’re stalling… just so you won’t cum just yet, huh?” Gwen pulled her hood across her forehead to wipe the sweat from it, smiling in its shadow. Venom laughed again, grinning as he rubbed his cock into her folds again. |
8a490452e4ff44b8aafaf13b2d499d9e | ['90fb4ac6022042359393cad2ab65f1ff'] | Tikki let out a giggle, most likely imagining the thought too. I smiled, happy that I got rid of the tension that had started to build when I walked in the door. My gaze once again wandered to the ceiling, the familiar curves granting her a sense a calmness, just like they always did.
"I can never understand why you always stare at that ceiling, Marinette. What's so intriguing about it?" Tikki pondered, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. I let out a short chuckle at Tikki's words, it must look quite strange to her.
"Simple Tikki, it's my night sky."
Waking up was always the most dreadful part of the morning, and of course getting out of bed. Even though the bed was highly uncomfortable and just thinking about it made my back hurt, it was still a bed and there was nothing I loved more. Well perhaps Tikki might be number one, but beds were most certainly a close second.
Every morning some guard felt the need to bang on her door loud enough for the whole building to hear, which in turn caused me to fall out of my bed, startled every morning. You would think after living here so long one would get used to such things, yet somehow I was an exception to such principles.
As I rushed to get ready, the annoying guard felt the need to continue knocking longer than usual, which caused my usual grouchiness to increase a tenfold. By the time I put my hair in the usual pigtails I was ready to strangle that guard. I could see the satisfaction in his smirk when I opened the door, causing me to frown before slipping on the usual emotionless mask. You can't even begin to fathom how badly I wanted to slap him when I saw his smirk increase at my slight emotion towards him. Sadly, I would most likely get another punishment to add to the collection if I did that, which resulted in me doing what I do best; keeping my poker face.
"You have a mission to complete today, Miss," The guard announced, staring me in the eye. "The file will be given with your breakfast and you are to begin directly afterward. Is that clear?" I simply nodded at his statement, not surprised. This wouldn't be my first mission and most likely would not be my last by the looks of it. I was about to head towards the cafeteria before the guard drew me back with his words. "Madame Bustier would like to speak to you once the mission is completed," He stated looking me in the eyes once more before taking his leave.
Despite his mechanical tone, his words had caused my heart to do summersaults. What could Madame Bustier possibly want with me? A spark of hope ignited in me and I wished desperately it was about me leaving this horrid place. First, however, I had to do this mission before theorizing what the Madame could want with me. I allowed a small smile to find its way onto my face as I made my way towards the cafeteria, wishing desperately that it was about me leaving. The smile disappeared as soon as it came, however, as I neared the cafeteria doors, a guard already staring me down.
As always, I brushed off his stare and entered the cafeteria to only be greeted with silence, which wasn't unusual, to say the least. My breakfast was already placed on a nearby table, a file sitting neatly next to it. I let out a deep breath before sliding into the chair and opening the file, a picture of a man staring back at me. I squinted as I read the man's information and was surprised to see that my target was the Mayor himself.
My goal was to strike fear during some charity event by shutting down the power within the building and knocking out the poor guy before the power came back on. It was simple and I was glad for once with what I had been asked to do. I ate the bland meal as I continued to read through the file, trying to see what the best angle to approach this was. From the map of the event, I could see straight away that the balconies on the right and left side were the most covered and happened to be an equal distance from where the Mayor would be seated. I searched the map for more information on the two balconies, and I couldn't help but smile when I noticed that the camera on the left side had been placed at a very convenient angle.
This mission was going to be easier than I thought. Perhaps my luck as Ladybug was finally beginning to help out Marinette too.
After swallowing the last bits of my disgusting breakfast, I tucked the file under my arm and marched out of the cafeteria and towards the "fitting room". I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the name since it made the room sound a lot less deadly than it really was.
"Ah Marinette, another mission I'm guessing?" Jared asked once I stepped into the room, his eyes flying to me. "What is it this time? Bandits? A gang?"
I rolled my eyes at him, "A mayor." He blinked as if he hadn't heard me correctly. Surprise flashed on his face as he stared at me quizzically.
"A-A mayor?" He sputtered,"The Great Marinette has been asked to take care of a mayor? Is the world ending? Have I caught some sudden fever?" I sighed, shaking my head at his idiotic antics.
"Yes Jared, a mayor. What's so wrong with that?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at the lanky boy in front of me.
His hazel eyes widened before he started spewing nonsense, something along the lines of "oh-god-please-don't-kill-me-i-have-a-wife-and-kids-spare-me-marinette". | 3563afe3a5314126a900af5945541942 | ['90fb4ac6022042359393cad2ab65f1ff'] | Each step I took made the world tilt a little more as I continued to practically drag myself into the city. The gas station that was originally chosen was on the outskirts of Paris, to ensure nothing could be traced back to the organization. Which, was in theory a good plan unless you factor in the fact that the station might be closed and that a brutally beaten girl was to be left there alone.
"Hey are you ok?" A voice suddenly asked, causing me to whip my head in their direction. The sudden movement caused me to stumble, before a pair of arms steadied me. "Hey are you... Oh my god! Marinette is that you?" A voice questioned, gripping my shoulders tightly. I could barely even see at this point, let alone comprehend whatever this person was saying. I felt the world go fuzzy as I swept up into someone's arms, their frantic yelling sounding farther and farther away with each second that past. And just like that, the silence engulfed me once again.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This one's a little shorter than the last one, but I hope you all liked it! I'm trying to keep things fast paced, but please let me know if you think it's going too fast though! Feel free to comment suggestions for future chapters and with that said, have a miraculous day!
3. three
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Marinette is taken to the hospital and later brought back home.
When I awoke I half expected to be chained to that post again, so it was a pleasant surprise to see I was a in a bed, a hospital bed. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes as I slowly sat up, wincing slightly in pain as I did so. The thoughts of pain were swept away with the sudden realization that someone had found and brought me here. The thought hit me like a tsunami, and I felt doubt creep into my head. What if I mess up the plan? Will they take me back to the house? Oh god, I don't think I could survive another day in that suffocating prison, I would surely die before I even stepped foot in there. I was so deep in thought I didn't even noticed another person enter the room.
"Marinette? My name is Doctor Hanes, how much do you remember from last night?" A deep voice rumbled, shocking me from my thoughts. I internally cursed myself, for an assassin I was doing pretty terrible at what I usually do best. Mendeleieve would've cursed me to hell if she was here.
"I.. uh.." I started, unsure of what to say exactly. "Well um.. I remember being dropped off somewhere, it was night when it happened and I-I tried to find a p-phone booth to contact my family and uh...things are kinda blurry from t-there," I stuttered, messing with my hospital gown. I never liked being put on the spot, especially in front of people like doctors.
"Are you sure there's nothing else you remember?" Doctor Hanes questioned, looking at me imploringly. He adjusted his glasses as he continued to stare at me, waiting for my response. My throat felt thick as I tried to form words, or simply anything to say to this elderly doctor.
"Well um.. I think I remember someone picking me up? I couldn't really see who it was since everything was kinda blurry..." I trailed off, glancing up at the doctor for a moment. He nodded in understanding before flashing me a smile. He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, looking down at me.
"Thank you for informing us, now there are some very eager people to see you outside the door, so I will take my leave," Doctor Hanes stated politely before leaving the room. It took only about ten seconds before I was crushed by a flying Alya.
"MARINETTE! OH MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE! I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU AND I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOUR SIDE AGAIN GIRL!" She screamed as she wrapped her arms around me tightly. I returned her embrace with the same fierceness, tears rolling down my face. "I thought I lost my best friend," Alya whispered, before giving me one last hug and letting go. She wiped her face with the back of her hand as a smile found a way onto her face.
"Sorry Mrs. Cheng, I got to your daughter first," Alya laughed through her tears , causing my eyes to drift over to my parents. If I thought I was crying hard before, nothing could compare to the waterfall that I was currently producing. Just the sight of my parents standing there sent me into hysterics, tears dripping down my face as I opened my arms for a hug. They quickly rushed over, tucking my in their loving arms. This had been a moment I dreamed of and the fact it came true only made me cry harder.
"Oh Marinette," Maman mumbled into my shoulder, her tears trickling down my hospital gown. "I'm so happy that you're okay, oh Marinette," She sobbed, her small body shaking as she cried.
"I love you so much Mari, don't ever leave us again," Papa cried, hugging me closer. Being in their embrace caused this wave of warmth to blossom in my stomach, stretching all the way to my fingertips. With their arms around me, I felt something I hadn't felt in a while, safe.
"I won't Papa, I won't," I cried, nestling my head against his chest, "I'm so sorry." |
828d5cfe28df4ee6b567c3e3d20d1456 | ['910cfd715a494749992bd3ad541ddb38'] | Sam's eyes flicker over to Dean who looks a little shocked and Sam isn't sure if it's because Castiel is suddenly back or how close the two happen to be right now. He gets his answer soon enough because Dean drops his knife and stomps over to Castiel, yanking him back by the collar of his coat and letting him fall back onto the ground. Dean gives his brother a hard look before he follows the angel down, grabbing a handful of his hair and slamming their lips together.
"Dean," Castiel gasps out and arches up beneath the hunter. Sam stares at them completely frozen because, wow, his brother is a foot away from him, rubbing against an angel like a bitch in heat. And it should be something that makes him blush and run off but instead he just stares. Dean tugs at the neck of Castiel's shirt and sucks on one of the old bruises there, the angel's eyes go wide and dark but he doesn't once look away from Sam.
And that's enough for Sam, it snaps him out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly stumbles to his feet. Castiel tries to stop him, trying to tell him to stay but when he says Sam's name it comes out as little more than a moan. A hand yanks at his ankle before he can get far and it's not Castiel's like he was expecting. No, instead it's Dean's hand wrapped tightly around his ankle while his other hand starts pulling on Castiel's pants.
"Dean, let go," Sam says weakly because leaving wasn't nearly as easy as it should be. Castiel is looking at him again and Sam lets himself think, for just one second, that Dean is trying to get him to stay too. But he sees the love bites all over Castiel neck and Dean is not pulling him down to join in, he's just trying to keep him firmly in place so Dean can show him who Castiel belongs to. "Okay, I get it, he's yours. Just let me go."
Sam wrenches his foot out of Dean's hold and storms over the basement. He slams the door behind him just in hope the noise will spook Dean away from Castiel. It doesn't because Sam still hears them, even though Castiel's voice is soft and barely there he can just make it out no matter how hard he tries to ignore it. Sam curls up on his mattress, shoves a pillow over his head and tries to ignore it, tries to fall asleep but his every time he closes his eyes all he can see is them together. He sees Castiel smiling up at Dean, he sees his brother being gentle with Castiel even though he'll barely look at Sam. It's enough to slowly drive him crazy.
Eventually it ends and he no longer hears Castiel's breathless sighs, instead just the floorboards creaking as Dean crosses back to the other side of the room. Then it's silence and Sam stares blankly at the wall until he hears someone slowly creeping down the stairs.
"Sam," Castiel whispers, probably trying to keep Dean from hearing. Sam squeezes his eyes shut and pretends to be asleep even though he knows how pointless it was trying to hide from Castiel. Soft fingers brush against the skin of his back but that only made Sam tense up more. "You're angry with me."
"No," he grits out and buries his face deeper into his pillow, attempting to block out Castiel. "I'm not angry, I'm just tired, let me sleep."
"Dean doesn't understand," he tells Sam like he was some sort of idiot that couldn't figure it out on his own.
"I know that!" Sam sits up and glares at Castiel who doesn't even flinch against the hunter's harsh look. "But you just- you were going to let him fuck you right in front of me."
Castiel studies him with a tilted gaze; Sam can see him carefully planning out what he is going to say next. It wasn't too long ago that Sam had to dance around his words to prevent a meltdown from Castiel or his brother. "I had thought you were aware that your brother and I were-"
"That doesn't mean I want to see it!" Sam shouts. Castiel looks over his shoulder and Sam freezes, worrying that he'd woken up Dean. They both quietly wait for any sound coming from the living room, neither speaking until they're sure Dean was still soundly asleep.
"So you are upset with me." Castiel nods more to himself then Sam who imagines that he must be congratulating himself on being able to clue in to human emotion.
"Cas you need to-" Sam's voice cuts out as he finally forced himself to have the conversation he never wanted to have. "You need to stop."
"Stop what?"
"I know you don't really understand," Sam starts his rehearsed speech. He's gone over it again and again - it was always on the tip of his tongue when Cas was pressed against him, but he always swallowed the words before they came out. "But you can't treat me the same way you treat Dean."
"I don't understand."
"You and Dean are…together, but you get all touchy-feely with me too." Sam twists the blanket in his hands, looking at everything but Castiel who doesn't even blink, his gaze locked on Sam. "You're only supposed to do that with someone you have feelings for."
"Feelings?"
"Yeah like romantic feelings." Sam spares a glance at Castiel and sees the still confused look on his face. "Someone you love."
"But I do love you."
"It's different though: the way you love Dean, and the way you love me." | bdec4669c0c347428e1e42539ca11e5d | ['910cfd715a494749992bd3ad541ddb38'] | Dean really should have just asked for more sleeping pills.
13. 13
"Slow down," Dr. Hill asked, trying frantically to write out her notes as fast as Dean was talking.
"We thought we had gotten them all but by the time we got there the bomb had already gone off."
"Hold on, hold on." She quickly flipped to another page, her handwriting messy and scrambled.
Dean snorted. "I finally start talking and you can't even keep up."
"I just…" Her glasses slipped off her face and tumbled onto the desk, but she paid it little attention as her pen danced across the notepad. "Terrorist, murder, screaming, sandstorm, fire, bullets, bullets, bullets."
"Okay, calm down, I was the one in the Tangi not you."
The doctor's eyes snapped up to Dean and the pen slowed to a halt. "Helmand, you were stationed in Helmand."
"I obviously went to more than one camp." Dean argued.
"But your file says…" She reached over for the brown folder but nearly jumped out of her seat when the high-pitched ring of an egg timer went off. In all the time Dean had been having sessions with the doctor, they had never lasted long enough for the alarm to sound. "I guess we're done."
Dean walked out before she could say anything else and the doctor set out to get her notes together before her next patient came. Melissa was sitting outside the door, doodling on a scrap piece of paper and barely glanced at Dean before she clicked her tongue and pointed to the stairs. "He's upset, you should talk to him."
Instinctively Dean went up to see Leviathan, but the room was empty, so that meant that someone else was going insane. He went over to his own room instead, finding Cas passing back and forth, muttering to himself and clearly looking upset. "Hey, you okay?"
"Meg, that demon whore," Castiel spit out.
"What'd she do?"
"She touched me."
"I know you're not a huge fan of Meg, but–"
"Dean, she touched me," Castiel emphasized, then looked away, his expression caught between embarrassment and rage. "Then she propositioned me."
"Oh."
"The absolute filth that poured out of her mouth, the very fact that she thought I would degrade myself by–"
"Okay, remember that conversation we had about overreacting?"
"Do you know what they do to fornicators in Hell?" Castiel asked and then answered his own questioned before Dean could speak. "They're roasted in fire that burns as hot as their own revolting passion."
"Why is it that every time someone upsets you they end up burning in the fires of Hell?"
"I don't make the rules, Dean," Castiel huffed. Dean shrugged and fell back on his bed. There was no point arguing with Castiel or else he'd risk having something in his room being smashed into pieces. "I know it's difficult for you understand this. Having led a chaste life on Earth and now being trapped among all these vile–"
"Whoa, you think I'm a virgin?" Apparently, to Castiel, there were only two types of people: virgins and sex crazed perverts.
"There's no need to be embarrassed," Castiel assured him. "Your purity is necessary to your role as Michael's vessel. And when you have been freed from the prison of Hell, I will remake your body without the stain of sin it was created in."
Dean was pretty sure Castiel had just insulted his mother, but he brushed it off because he didn't want to get in another argument with Cas. "Listen, why don't you go to your room and wait for me there."
"But–"
"Make sure you close the door to uh, keep the demons out." Castiel pursed his lips, but nodded and left Dean alone. Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes and waited a few seconds before he headed out too, going downstairs to spend a few minutes with Sam before he dragged himself back up the stairs to occupy Leviathan's time.
Jessica hadn't brought pie, which sucked, but she grabbed his hand and put it on her swollen stomach and he got to feel his nephew kick. It wasn't a very long visit; they had a doctor's appointment later that night to get to, but it was nice and Sam gave him an ultrasound picture, so at least now he had something personal to put in his depressingly empty room.
He grabbed two plates of food on the way back upstairs. He wasn't sure if Leviathan ate, but without Jimmy around he figured he should try and get one of the alters to eat. Leviathan hadn't bothered to change out of Castiel's clothes, tossing only the trench coat on the ground. He was on his back, staring up the ceiling and looking completely bored out of his mind. Dean used his foot to kick the door closed and Leviathan stood up to greet him, only to turn a suspicious eye on the food he held.
"Here," Dean offered, holding the egg sandwich out to Leviathan. He stared at it like it was some foreign object, and Dean was sure it must have been the first sandwich he had ever seen.
"I'm allergic."
"Oh, okay." Dean held out the meaty sandwich instead, feeling a small amount of grief about passing up the good sandwich.
"I'm allergic to that too."
"Are you actually?"
There was a long pause before Leviathan finally grumbled, "No." He snatching the plate from Dean and dropped down to the floor. Dean sat down with him, ignoring that Leviathan couldn't last a full twenty-four hours before he slipped back into his nasty lying habit. |
ac8acc4549e54f6e92506e7de1d28466 | ['912f0457c71842d5beae30d4f5951f77'] | In short, the most human demon in the world can’t stand some things that crawl from the depths of human imagination. And so every once in a while, he meddles. Subtly, of course. No parting of seas or rains of manna from hea-- from the sky, but he has been known to gently bend the arc of an event so that it leads, if not exactly to a pot of gold, at least to a lower average level of innocent suffering. Perhaps one night in a war-torn country a number of civilian families all have similar foreboding dreams that inspire them to pack up and leave town just before a group of armed insurgents arrives. A child’s life cut needlessly short will send their soul straight to heaven by default, Crowley reasons, so it actually behooves the demonic hosts to allow more of them to grow up and develop their natural tendencies towards either sin or righteousness. Informed choice and all that. And heaven loves a martyr, so if events transpire so that there are fewer martyrs, well, so much the better.
Late one evening in the second decade of the twenty-first century we find Crowley skulking about Soho vaguely searching for an opportunity to cause mischief, but finding the market rather saturated. London is already a den of iniquity without his help and he is contemplating going home and sleeping for a few days when two young women, one fair and one dark, stumble out of a bar holding hands. Crowley doesn’t spare them a thought until he overhears a few drunken male voices muttering things like “S’not right… bloody indecent… ought to be taught a lesson…” and realizes the night is about to get interesting. _ ‘Oh, no you don’t, that’s just unsporting,’ _ he thinks. Nothing rebellious about taking your frustrations out on innocent people.
Crowley watches the young couple turn down a side street, hoping he had misread the situation, but is unsurprised when a pair of the lads stumble after them. He simply groans and undrapes himself from the lamppost to follow. Around the corner the girls are giggling, gently bumping into each other as they walk. The boys are trailing behind but creeping ever closer, until Crowley steps out of the shadows into their path.
“Oi, either of you gents got a light?” he asks.
“Bugger off,” the taller boy replies, and attempts to shoulder past, but finds Crowley’s outstretched arm quite immobile.
“Honestly, there’s no cause to be rude. Seems like you two have had a bit too much, maybe you ought to be getting home?” The girls have taken notice and stopped to see what the fuss is about.
“What gives you the right--” the other boy stops short when Crowley holds open his jacket as if to flash a badge. There is no badge of course, but it’s so very easy to make drunk people believe they see what you want them to see. Hardly even counts as a miracle. And just like that both boys seem to shrink, all bluster gone as they back away stammering about having things to do early in the morning. Crowley sighs dramatically and turns to see that the girls are still standing there watching him.
“Well?” he asks accusingly, as if they had inconvenienced him.
“Were they following us?”
“Got it in one!” He accompanies his answer with finger guns.
“Oh my god, I-- thanks, I guess? I mean, thanks so much!”
“Yeah, sure, fine. Just.” Another sigh, less dramatic. “Just look after each other, alright?”
The Good Book is distinctly mum on the subject of what two women might get up to in the privacy of their own chambers, but considering what it says about two gentlemen sharing company one might well assume it was a sin. And we can’t have bigoted morons potentially scare people into not sinning, can we? That would be entirely counterproductive. Best let them continue to sin, really let it build up in their systems until their time of judgement. At least this is what Crowley tells himself, as he personally feels that who people hold hands with is the business of nobody at all, including the Almighty.
+++
Now if one afternoon in the third decade of the twenty-first century a fair-haired young woman should wander into A. Z Fell And Co., looking as if she doesn’t entirely know how she got there, well, maybe this time it really is just a coincidence. The bell rings and the bookseller appears, slightly ruffled, from the back room to greet his patron.
“Welcome, my dear, what brings you here today?”
“Funniest thing really,” the young woman replies, “This place feels so familiar but I don’t think I’ve ever been in before? Only I must’ve been down this block an hundred times and just now noticed the place.”
“Happens more often than you’d think, people overlooking us for years until one day they find themselves in need of a book. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
The young woman blinks a few times and seems to suddenly remember why she’s here. “Well, I want to propose to my girlfriend but I’m stumped on how to do it, have you got any, I dunno, romantic books? For inspiration?” Aziraphale’s smile, which until that moment had seemed a bit forced, grows warmer.
“That’s far from our specialty here, though I do have a few things you might like to peruse,” he says, indicating a small shelf in the corner. “However, if I may offer a few words of personal advice?” He pauses, then continues after her nod of interest, “The asking itself matters very little in the grand scheme of things. I had this elaborate game cooked up for my husband, with riddles and clues and all that, and he beat me to it by asking while we stood in line at the patisserie. If it’s meant to be, you’ll end up just as married either way.” His patron breathes out a shaky laugh.
“Thanks, that’s… That’s actually really reassuring. I know it’s really not what you say, it’s who you say it to. I will take a look at those books all the same though.”
“Certainly. Do let me know if--” Aziraphale starts to reply but is interrupted by an inhuman yet triumphant screech from the back room.
“Angel! Seventeen down was _ axiom _ , not _ adage _ ! Hah! I told you!” Aziraphale can only smile bemusedly, a faint pink touching his cheeks.
“Do give a shout if you need anything, I’ll just be in the back tending to some, ah, paperwork.”
This time no ethereal or occult powers are employed to help the fair-haired woman. Aziraphale can sense that she has found her own miracle already, just as he has found his.
**Author's Note:**
> Hoo boy, I haven't written fanfiction in almost 7 years but I just re-read and then watched Good Omens and these two celestial idiots have taken over my entire brain. The writing muscles are stiff so any feedback is greatly appreciated! | 9d25349a0f1946928d3d87f4c900e599 | ['912f0457c71842d5beae30d4f5951f77'] | In Which Sam Sees Everything and Says Nothing
Castiel doesn’t know yet. Dean is utterly oblivious. Right now, Sam is the only one who knows. Cas doesn’t notice the gentle smile that brightens his face when Dean says his name. Dean can’t see the light in his own eyes when the angel appears in their motel room. Neither of them thinks it invasive to stand so close that their shoulders brush, or to bump elbows while sitting in sticky diner booths.
Sam sees all these things and more. He can always tell when Castiel appears behind him by the way Dean sits up and licks his lips. He sees the way the angel’s face changes as his eyes shift from brother to brother; Cas looks at Sam with fondness and at Dean with longing. Sam knows his brother’s face better than any face in the world and he has never seen Dean look at anyone the way he looks at their guardian angel; no man, woman, child or creature, not even Sam himself, has ever been the object of such a sad and beautiful adoration. But Sam is patient and says nothing.
He doesn’t say anything when Dean steals a bite of pancake off Cas’s plate after he eats half the stack and decides he doesn’t like it. Dean cuts his hand and Cas immediately takes it in his own and heals it, holding on far longer and more gently than necessary; Sam doesn’t comment. He especially doesn’t say anything when, on the way out of town after an especially nasty witch hunt, Dean falls asleep in the back seat leaning on Cas’s shoulder. From the driver’s seat Sam glances at them in the rearview mirror. Dean’s face is pressed up against the familiar trenchcoat, the bliss of sleep spread out over his features. The angel holds as still as a mountain, not even seeming to breathe, content to watch the gentle rise and fall of the hunter’s chest and the twitch of his eyes under lowered lids. Sam allows the tiniest of smiles to creep across his face as he speeds down the dark highway towards the next nightmare. |
0cd0c2b86be14470a8d67515ed76762b | ['913d2c525248472982cae7b26fa34669'] | "Tell me, _Your Highness_ , have you ever sucked cock? Or is that not worthy of a princess? What a shame that would be, with a mouth like yours." His thumb traces her lip again. It stings, and she realizes she must have bitten down hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep quiet. "Those sweet lips are made to be stuffed."
Kiara's heart hammers in her chest, and the noise is so loud that it's almost all she can hear. When she speaks, her voice sounds far-away and faint. It surprises her how steady and calm it is. "Anything you put in my mouth is going to get bitten off."
There's nothing kind about the smile he offers her. "Yeah? I don't think so, Princess. You'll open up like a good girl and do exactly as I say, because if you won't, your father isn't going to survive the night."
The threat makes the blood in her veins turn to ice water and she freezes. "You wouldn't dare. My father is a king. Even if what you said is true and you captured him, you'll be expected to deliver him to your queen."
Tharlan shrugs. "It's war. People die. Even kings. Perhaps he did not survive the battle. Or he couldn't deal with the shame of captivity and took his own life. Who's going to question my story?" His grip shifts until his hand is in her hair. He pulls her head back, tightening his fingers to the point where it becomes painful. "So what's it gonna be, Princess? Will you behave?"
She wants to spit right at his smug face and tell him to go to hell, but she can't risk her father's life. There's no way out, she realizes. Dread settles in her stomach like a stone, and she refuses to meet his eyes as she gives a jerky nod, as good as his tight grip allows.
He leans down until his beard rasps against her cheek.
"Good girl," he whispers. His breath brushes her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
When he backs up, his hand stays buried in her hair, even as he opens the fastenings of his pants with the other. His cock springs free, half-hard already and shiny with moisture around the top. He's standing so close that she can smell the mixture of musk and leather and the faint chemical tang of cheap soap underneath.
Angry tears sting in her eyes at the helplessness of her situation. Kiara holds them back by sheer force of will. She's not going to give Tharlan the satisfaction, she won't. He's not gonna see her defeated or stumble. Resolve hardens in her. If he thinks he can break her like this, he's mistaken.
Still, when he takes himself in hand and guides his cock to her mouth, she almost balks. He trails it along her lips, coating them with warm, sticky liquid like a perverse kind of lipgloss.
"Open up."
She obeys, hesitantly opening her mouth just a fraction, but that's all it takes. He gives her head a sharp tug towards him and pushes his cock between her lips, wedging them wide open. Without her hands to steady herself, she loses balance and falls against him, the motion driving him further into her mouth, nudging against the back of her throat and making her choke.
Her eyes water and a helpless noise bubbles up her throat.
He uses the hand in her hair to push her back and steady her, and for a moment she's almost grateful. Until he pulls her back, driving his cock into her mouth again. And again. And again. Every time he pushes into her, the weight on her tongue feels larger and firmer, and the salty-bitter taste becomes stronger.
"That's it," he mutters. "Just like that. So pretty with your lips all puffy and wet and my cock down your throat. Knew you'd be good at this."
The words make her flush harder, make her feel angry and ashamed and paradoxically proud all at once, and part of her wants to show him how good she could really be at this. Wants to give him the best damn blowjob anyone has ever given him and take away his chance at humiliating her. But he doesn't even give her the chance to act, just fucks her mouth with merciless precision like she's something to be used rather than an active participant, a steady rhythm that never stutters and barely leaves her enough room to breathe.
And then, suddenly, just when she expects him to thrust forward again, he steps back. His cock slips from her lips with a wet noise, and she only just avoids falling on her face because he's holding her up.
The smile he gives her is self-satisfied and victorious, and she tries to take some measure of comfort in the fact that he's flushed and breathing hard, arousal blowing his pupils so wide that the blue of his eyes is drowned out by the black. _I did this_ , she thinks, even if it's not really true, even if it wouldn't any kind of victory even if it was.
He lets his fingertips fall to her lips again, spreading the mixture of pre-cum and spit back and forth. "I'd love to finish down your throat, but since you're so keen on courtesy, princess, I wouldn't want to disappoint you by being so selfish."
He pulls her up by the arm with a bruising grip. "Come on."
It's only when she's back on unsteady feet that she notices the guards are gone. She didn't realize they'd left, didn't notice him sending them away, and even though part of her is glad they weren't around to witness her being used like this, even when she knows they were an additional threat, the idea of being alone with Tharlan is almost worse. | fca789d9b475440fa77374a6b496d796 | ['913d2c525248472982cae7b26fa34669'] | The memories of what he's done when he was Marked return slowly, one by one, each of them more painful and horrid than the one before. Remembering shooting Curtis Peck makes him puke, and when he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, his face is wan and his eyes are bloodshot and it gives him a hollow kind of satisfaction to smash the mirror with his bare hands and see the blood ooze from the cuts.
He doesn't think he could possibly hate himself any more than he already does. He's murdered innocent people. It doesn't get any worse than this, he's sure of that. Until he remembers Isabelle.
It's sense memory at first, striking at the most inconvenient moment. Meghan is holding him, comfort and warmth and tenderness in her touch, and it tugs on the edge of his consciousness: a kiss pressed against a smooth forehead, his fingers trailing over a trembling lower lip, his mouth following its lead.
Isabelle's expression flashes through his mind, hatred and anger and defeat, and he remembers the thrill of having her, taking her. Her body against his, strong and frail at the same time, and his laughter when her fingernails dug deep into his skin and left angry red lines on his back in a pitiful display of power. He remembers it as vividly as if it had been _him_ and not some vile creature that had taken over his mind and body.
Shoving Meghan away with enough force to make her stumble, he crumbles.
When Isabelle dies in his arms, later, he thinks he has no right to hold her like this. Not him, not now, after all he (someone else in his body, same difference) has done to her. But her hand blindly grabs at his own, desperately holding on, and he finds himself returning the grip just as tightly. |
41bc673d454a48b88e87488134863816 | ['914cbeee31c54754859565f24a33745d'] | "Hi," Jeonghan whispers into the camera when Seungcheol comes into focus. Jeonghan swears his heart stops every time he sees the elder's stupid face, not that he'll ever admit it.
Seungcheol smiles, exchanging his greetings "Hey, how did today go?"
Jeonghan leans back against the headboard of the bed and brings a hand up to run through his hair "Uhm... okay? I guess. We got most of the paperwork finished, it just has to be processed now or whatever. The social worker said it should all be good though, should be official in a few days."
Seungcheol hums and nods along. "That's good," he pauses before continuing, voice softer, slower "how's Chan?"
Jeonghan glance down at him and his tear stained cheeks, Dino tucked under his chin. "He's okay... he got pretty upset earlier, he, uh, wanted to go home. I don't think he really understands what's going on. He's sleeping now."
"Can I see him?" Seungcheol asks quieter now, eyes widening as he sees Jeonghan's expression change "I'm sorry, like really it's weird it's just y'know I don't actually know what he looks like... I mean we never knew about him until yesterday but I'm so excited for this? I'm sorry I'm being really weird aren't I?"
Jeonghan's heart tightens a little bit because how did he get so damn lucky? What did he do to deserve someone like Choi Seungcheol? "No, it's okay! It's just..." He pauses trying to formulate a sentence in his muddled, tired brain "Sometimes it's- sometimes I can't believe how... how supportive you are, like you're so on board with all this even though-"
"Hey! I love you! Which means your family is my family, warts and all!" Seungcheol smiles teasingly at him but Jeonghan knows he's being serious. "Anyways, we talked about kids before and so what if it's a little earlier than we planned? We have good jobs, a nice apartment? And, look, I know I've been really busy recently and I'm so sorry I couldn't go with you but we finished the project today, and I took time off, so I'm all yours and Chan's now, okay?"
"I love you, you big dork," Jeonghan can't stop the fond smile which spreads across his face "Do you want to see him?"
Seungcheol's face bursts into happy eye smiles and toothy grins "Oh my god please? Seriously?!"
Jeonghan laughs "Seriously," He confirms nodding before shifting the camera onto Chan's tiny face. His thumb is in his mouth now and for the first time since Jeonghan has met him he looks content. A gasp passes out over the speakers and Jeonghan laughs again.
"Shit! He's so small! Oh my god, babe! He's adorable! Oh my god!" Chan shifts in his sleep and emits a tiny whine. "Oh no, shhh, shhh, shhushhh! Please don't wake up, please tiny baby!"
Jeonghan laughs again but he still switches the camera back and stands up off the bed once Chan has settled. He decides to move out onto the balcony, so he won't wake Chan but leaves the door open so he still can hear the sleeping toddler. "Y'know he's not actually a baby, right?"
"Three years old is still a baby!" Seungcheol cries adamantly.
Jeonghan laughs "He's a toddler, Cheol. He's almost four."
"Pfft! Synonym for older baby!"
Snickering Jeonghan acquiesces, Chan's an older baby. They converse like this for a while, making vague plans for the next week. They have to go shopping to get clothes for Chan as well as toys and other kid's stuff. They also have doctor's appointments and a home visit from child services but otherwise they're free to do what they want for two weeks. Seungcheol wants to go on trips together but it's difficult because they don't exactly know what Chan likes.
Jeonghan doesn't know much of anything about Chan. He knows Chan's date of birth and his blood type. His mother just overdosed on heroin and he has a plush toy named Dino which he adores. He doesn't even know who Chan's father is, the birth cert's blank.
Jeonghan hopes he won't be able to relate to Chan's past but he doubts he can place that much faith in Jieun.
* * *
"Jeonghan-ssi! Jeonghan-ssi!"
Jeonghan growls sleepily and rolls over, not even opening an eyelid "Go away, Cheol...sleeping..." he mumbles, face buried in the pillow as he clings to the remnants of last nights sleep.
A tiny gasp and breathy pitched apologies are what alert Jeonghan that something is up. Blearily he opens his sleepy eyes to find Chan's teary eyes staring back at him. His chirping phone rests on the pillow beside him, demanding to be heard. "Sorry Je-Jeonghan-ssi! S-Sorry!" Chan whimpers as he scrambles backwards on the bed away from Jeonghan. "Please, s-s-so s-sorry!"
Shit.
Jeonghan quickly sits up and silences the phone's alarm "It's okay Chan-ah, I'm not mad. I was just confused," Jeonghan pulls Chan closer by the waist, into what he hopes is a comforting hug. Chan's limbs instantly turn rigid and he continues with his litany of desperate apologies.
"M'sor-sorry Jeonghan-ssi! S-sorry!" He wails and Jeonghan's heart shatters.
"I'm not mad, Chan-ah, it's okay, you did nothing wrong," He soothes, hands rubbing Chan's back in tiny rhythmic circles "It's okay, You just wanted to show me the phone right?" Chan nods frantically and Jeonghan pulls him closer. He wants nothing more than to suffocate Chan in blankets, hide him from the world forever. "That's okay, you're so good for waking me, I'm not mad. It's okay." | b07c50d7cd17455faf85acdb17bca78a | ['914cbeee31c54754859565f24a33745d'] |
Sanctuary
When Jeonghan finally starts to think his life is on track, shit really truly hits the fan.
He has come far from the dilapidated concrete jungle where he grew up. He studied hard, graduated college off a scholarship no one thought he would ever get. He has a good job and his own apartment in Gangnam. He has a fantastic boyfriend who also has a great job and lives with him in their spacious modern apartment. He cares more about Seungcheol than he ever has about his entire shitty family in.
Jeonghan had completely distanced himself from his family. He hadn't spoken to them since he walked out age eighteen, hasn't looked back once. He's cut all ties and couldn't tell you whether they're alive or dead. He's broken free from the horrific cycle of screaming and yelling and addiction and abuse and...
and...
He's happy, for once in his life Yoon Jeonghan is happy.
Then it all goes sideways.
* * *
Jeonghan wakes to an empty apartment, silence disturbed only by the shrill chirping of his mobile phone. He groans and buries his face further into this pillow willing it to stop. The grating melody ceases for a moment yet promptly resumes when Jeonghan closes his eyes. Growling, he pushes himself up into a sitting position and fumbles for the phone on the bedside locker.
"Huh-lo?" He grumbles as he rubs his eyes and takes in Seungcheol's empty spot in bed. Seungcheol had been working overtime for weeks now to finish some big project. Not that he'll ever admit it but Jeonghan misses him. He hates that the only time they spend time together is when he wakes to Seungcheol collapsing onto their bed, asleep before he hits the mattress.
"Yoon Jeonghan-ssi?" The voice is high pitched and urgent under cool professionalism. "We're calling you about your sister, Jieun-ssi."
* * *
Jeonghan's relationship with his sister is complicated.
While he can dismiss and detest his parents for their bitter neglect and constant abuse, he never knows how he should feel about Jieun.
On one hand he pities her, he empathizes. She to had to endure the very same hell until she could leave but he still feels betrayed sometimes. She was older, five years his senior, his noona. A role with heavy responsibility and power, she could have protected him.
Except she didn't.
Ji-eun used him as a scapegoat to escape their step father's wrath, used him to distract their mother, to cover her tracks. He remembers her, smiling, waving, laughing as she left the apartment with her friends. She was supposed to be babysitting him, while their parents worked menial poorly paid jobs. Instead she would slip out and he would wait in a cold, cramped apartment alone, terrified as he waited. She would stumble home giggling, eyes glazed, pinprick scars running up her arms. He would help her into bed, happy to deal with her so pliant and sated after her latest hit. He would do anything to win her affections.
Then there were other days when she couldn't get a hit. Jeonghan would hide in his own home from her bitter insults and sometimes, her physical outbursts. Days spent desperate for some kind of comfort. Days where he couldn't decide who he wanted, everyone he knew hurt him.
He doesn't know if he hates her, but he knows she's no noona to him.
* * *
Chan looks like her, same narrow eyes and thin lips, but Jeonghan can see himself in this tiny scared boy. He's stick thin and wearing clothes that don't quite fit him right. His jumper slips off his left shoulder, the sleeves pooling over his fingers. The green pajama pants are torn in the knee and stop just above the ankle to reveal tiny bare feet. He looks so lost and confused. He stares at each person who passes with wide glossy eyes, and flinches every time the door slams shut.
"Chan-ah, I'd like you to meet somebody!' The social worker is too cheery and beams with every word. Jeonghan wants to remind her that the kid's mother just O.D.'ed. She crouches down to his level and Chan scoots down the bench away from her and stares at a small toy in his hand. "Chan-ah?"
"Want Eomma, where eomma?' He sniffles and Jeonghan's heart breaks a little bit- even the social worker's smile falters.
She swallows loudly 'We've talked about this Chan-ah, Eomma's... Your Eomma isn't-"
"Hey!" Jeonghan interrupts, sending the social worker a glare. "Who's this?"
Chan is silent for several moments before he looks up at Jeonghan nervously. "Dino," he mumbles eventually.
"Wow!" Jeonghan breathes with exaggerated enthusiasm "He's very cool!" It's a lie. The plush toy is tearing at the seams, the green fur matted and filthy. The dinosaur only has one eye yet Chan clutches at it with a white knuckled vice grip. It's probably all he has Jeonghan realizes as Chan strokes the tail, eyes soft and reverent.
Chan is quiet for a bit but eventually he looks up at Jeonghan "Thank you" He lisps before rubbing his eyes sleepily. He blinks a few times before turning to the social worker "Wan' go home...please?"
She sighs impatiently "We've talked about this, Chan-ah, you can't go home."
Jeonghan could hit her when he sees Chans bottom lip tremble. "Wan' Eomma," He whimpers as tears trickle down his cheeks, too gaunt to be healthy. He clutches harder at his plush toy and pulls it into his chest. "Wanna g'home, wan' Eomma!"
The crying only gets louder when the social worker tries to hug him.
* * *
Chan finally cried himself to sleep curled up on the hotel room couch after a few hours. Jeonghan wishes he would get angry, scream, shout, throw a tantrum. He doesn't, he just cried softly into Dino's matted fur while staring out the hotel window. Jeonghan's trying to move his sleeping body into the bed when Seungcheol calls. |
42c97445a1614115a83b15fe13d56e91 | ['914ce73a02844402b5d85ec9a27b3dde'] | Her hand slipped between them, finding his arousal bulging against his pants, threatening to rip through. She pawed at it and the feeling within him erupted, sending a spike through his spine. His lips peeled back into an open mouthed snarl, his eyes snapping shut, the sudden feeling so intense. His mind went blank, and his hands flexed in response, gripping her breast tightly and digging into her bud. She howled, the feeling of pain and pleasure mixing together, her grip on him also hardening. She rubbed against his bulge again and he growled loudly, his teeth sinking into the soft skin on her neck. She shouted a moan in both surprise and ecstasy. She moved her hand again, and his hand shot from between her legs up to grab at her wrist, pulling it away. He breathed heavily, kissing the spot he had just punctured.
"Moment of breathing, please." He breathed, his thumb rubbing small circles into the wrist he held.
She gave an airy giggle. "See why I told you to take it easy?" She smiled, leaning her head up to kiss his cheek, and he stilled.
Looking down at her surprised, a fluttering in his chest. His mind told him to hesitate, but he pushed passed it, his mouth taking hers. She gasped into his mouth, but when he thought she would pull away he was surprised to see she deepened it. Her eyes closing slowly as they both enjoyed the moment. They soon pulled back from each other, both trying to catch their breath.
"Do that Gary wanted now for some time." He confessed softly, trailing kisses along her jaw line.
"So have I." She confessed back, kissing his forehead.
He growled loudly, his lips latching onto hers again. His heart sang out with joy to hear she felt the same for him. He pressed his lips against hers, pushed his head down, guiding her to lay on the bed roll and he rotated his body over hers. One arm propped him up, the other rubbed her belly again, before trailing up to massage her breast. She moaned into his mouth, and he devoured it eagerly. When his mouth finally released hers, her face was flushed, not from embarrassment but from lust. Lust for him. His arousal aching at the sight of her. He groaned, the feeling so intense. Oh how he wished for her hand to touch it again.
Almost as if sensing his distress, she reached down and scraped her fingers against him. He let out a deep moan, pleasure coursing threw him. She started needing him with her palm and he purred into her ear. Her other arm caressed his chest, rubing over his large goblin belly, marveling at the different skin. Her hand trained down to assist the other with the buttons on his pants, undoing them and releasing him. He let out a sigh, a feeling of relief washed over him from finally being set free. He soon hissed again, her hands beginning to stroke his length. His hand gripped her shoulder as his forehead rested against hers. He slowly was loosing the strength to keep his self hovering over her.
"Feels that good, does it?" She asked, smiling up at him.
"Amazing it does!" He moaned, his breath becoming ragged.
Her face flushing lightly. "Uh, Gary... do goblins have...intercourse?" She squirmed slightly, she still was a little shy. "I-I know you reproduce with spores...b-but I mean, it's not like I'm holding a sausage right now." She gave a nervous giggle.
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking at her. He was silent for a moment, his face emotionless. "Sally is wanting to be bonded with Gary?" He asked, shocked by what she was asking.
"Um, what does bonded mean?" She wasn't sure if that was translating right.
"It mean we be joining, you and me, forever spirit by." He replied, looking at her thoughtfully. He wanted to make sure she knew what she was asking, that this was a serious experience.
Sally was amazed, she didn't know that goblins did such a thing. To be bonded with someone on a spiritual level, that was far greater than anything humans did. It would show that you truly loved the one you chose, and after their time together Sally could say she wholeheartedly loved him.
Her face flushed again, and she looked up to him sincerely. "If you wish to be bonded with me."
Gary's eyes grew wide and he bombarded her with kisses. He kissed her forehead, cheeks, jaw, and neck. Overjoyed by what she was purposing. His arousal jumping in her hands at the thought. "Wanting not any other person or goblin is Gary!" He shouted.
Sally was honored, to think that he prefered her over even another goblin. Her heart burst with love, and she had to fight back the sting of joyful tears, not wanting to ruin the moment.
His mouth eventually made its way to hers and they kissed passionately, their hearts intertwining. Their true feelings had finally been brought to the surface, and they could indulge on their longing for one another fully. He nipped at her bottom lip, his hand exploring her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She moaned as her hands continued to massage his arousal, bringing out intoxicating growls from him. His hand made a path down to her heat, and he lightly caressed her bud. She moaned, pulling her mouth from his to lie her head on the bed roll, her back arching to his touch.
"Beautiful you is." He said softly, kissing her stomach.
He slowly leaned up, looking down to her with a loving smile. His thumbs rubed circles in her thighs as he took in the image of her before him. His shirt pulled up and bunched around her neck, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. It was truly remarkable that she yearned for him so deeply. | 1cdfd300d1c94973b19a030d137fba51 | ['914ce73a02844402b5d85ec9a27b3dde'] | "For some people." She let out a frustrated sigh. "For most people, it is a good feeling. Makes them smile. And they want to pursue it more."
"And for you being?" Dammit, he was too good, he knew her too well.
She sighed, this secret of hers was finally going to come to light. "It's horrible." Gary's gaze only strengthen. "No matter how much I try to calm myself down I always feel dreadful. My chest hurts, and after awhile my head hurts. My focus shifts in the weirdest way, and it can almost be nauseating the way it spins." She fidgeted lightly with her coat. "The worst of all is the things I see. Monsters, demons, creatures that even the cultists would fear. Everything warps into strange forms and I can't trust anything. They'll whisper to me, saying horrible things. Egging me on to do unspeakable things. Clawing at my very soul." She had to pause to take a few breaths, and his hand rested on hers.
"If bad being, why you do?" Gary asked, his voice almost a whisper to the pounding in her head.
"Other than last night, I've only done it once. After the things I experience I swore off of it forever." She replied.
"Yet did." Gary pressed on.
"Yes, I did." She sighed. "We needed to get the beans, and no one at the camp was going to help us. Tweaked out of their minds, hardly able to make a full sentence." Her voice was almost like venom.
"No." Gary suddenly spat.
"What?" Sally replied, looking at him puzzled.
"No." He repeated sternly. "Not having to Miss Sally. Saying of no's for once being."
She looked at him, shocked. "Gary, if I don't, who will?"
"Not caring." He stood up, taking their plates and wiping them off before storing them back in the knapsack. "Hurt Miss Sally was, beans being from. Bubble of comfort push past Miss Sally did. Saying no, have done."
Sally could feel her face start to heat up, but she tried to push it down. Standing up suddenly and stomping a foot. "Gary, these people need all the help they can get! I'm not going to just turn away from them."
Gary finished packing the last of her things, before stomping out the fire in frustration. "Killed being Miss Sally will!" He shouted, a small snarl beginning to grow from the corner of his mouth. "Gary not let."
Sally couldn't stop her face from flushing or her eyes from opening wide.
"Dangerous is West. Gary is knowing." He threw the knapsack on his back, turning to start back on their trail.
"I can damn well take care of myself, Gary!" Sally wasn't done, she felt attacked. Like when her brother had told her she would die out here the first day of her adventure.
Gary spun around, the look in his eyes made her blood freeze, and she stepped back slightly in fear. "Much good Sally care of self!" He spat, his voice being the one now laced with venom. "Gary not here Sally be in cave still!"
Sally shrank back, the fire of anger she had now doused by the wisdom Gary shouted. His words were harsh, but she couldn't deny how true they were.
"What of clowns? Factory of pickles? Gary not here Sally dead being long ago." He breathed heavily, becoming very upset over the whole thing. But when he saw the fear and defeat in her eyes he sighed deeply, leashing his anger and putting it away.
They stood there for a few moments, neither one wanting to say anything. The wind picked up and swirled around them, as if trying to calm them both. When it died down again Gary sighed, repositioning the knapsack.
"Help the West need greatly. Gary knowing stopping Sally won't." He looked to her, the spark reappearing in her eyes. "But," he said roughly, his next words strict, "if Gary is thinking Miss Sally is danger quest being, then Gary no saying." Her smile came back, and his heart jumped in such a way it left him confused.
"I think I can agree to that." She chuckled, jogging shortly to catch up with him. "Now, let's get heading to Dirtwater. I need a bath badly, and prefer to sleep in my own bed tonight."
Gary nodded, and the two set on to the east, back to Dirtwater. The wind at their backs and the sun on their face.
**Author's Note:**
> Expect more stories including Gary ;3 |
6cd0227ab3cd472bae1536b39ab727a3 | ['915ddd8d134946faa4ff0bf006345466'] | She felt herself getting close and sped up her work on his member. She really wanted them to have a mutual release, fearing that once she has come, she would forget all about him. That is how amazing he made her feel.
“Come for me babe”
“Together” was all she was able to get out between breaths.
His two fingers suddenly disappeared, only to be replaced with three, really stretching her, creating the most amazing feeling. She knew she was close and she could feel that he was as well. Together they sped up their movement, both intent on making the other feel good. He thrusted into her hand, as she was pumping him, at the same time working his magic between her legs. With one last thrust of fingers and pelvic, they both came, groaning and moaning.
He enveloped her lips with his again, using his tongue to open hers, sucking her tongue into his. Tongues, hands, fingers, breaths, all still moving at different speed, making sure that both had the most amazing experience. Slick bodies, covered in sweat, pressed against each other, hands slowly letting go, but seeking the other out.
“Wow”
“Yeah”
“So…”
“That just happened”
“Yeah”
So she wasn’t going to get much coherent out of him at that moment, meaning she must have done something right. She let herself bask in the afterglow with him.
After a little while, she shivered lightly, despite having Maks almost completely wrapped around her. It caused him to snap out of wherever he was.
“You are cold” It was a statement, not a question.
“Just a little”
“As much as I hate to, we have to get going”
“What time is it?”
“Late”
“Are we late?”
“Not quite yet, but we will be soon if we don’t get up”
She was about to jump out of bed, but he grabbed her, making sure she stayed.
“This…”
“Yeah?”
“This is okay, right?” He looked at her a little unsure.
“Yeah, this is very okay” He smiled back at her.
“Good”
He got out of bed and picked her up. She squealed.
“Maks, put me down”
“I made you dirty again, time to clean up the mess”
“I can walk by myself”
“True, but I like this better”
He carried her into the bathroom where he turned on the shower. He put her down once he checked that the water was warm enough, quickly stepping in behind her before closing the door.
“I’m not going to be able to take a shower by myself in the near future, am I?”
“ Not if I have anything to do with it, no”
He gave her the goofiest grin. She could do nothing but smile back at him. This was going to be interesting. | 96a0d5fd4a6543b69705f84e67062a41 | ['915ddd8d134946faa4ff0bf006345466'] | After what felt like 10min, she noticed that the car had stopped. Checking her phone, she saw that it had been 2 hours, Charlie was already out of the car and getting his stuff so she guessed that they had reached their destination. Lifting her head, she tried to get untangled from Maks’ arm, but he wouldn’t let her go. Looking up, she saw that he was still sleeping.
“Maks” She whispered. Nothing.
“Maks, we are here” A little louder, but still no reaction.
Sharna turned around and looked at them. She smiled when she saw Meryl’s predicament.
“He sleeps like a log, and is grumpy as hell when he gets woken up like this. Good luck with that” She opened the door and got out.
“Sharna, don’t leave me, help” All she heard was laughter. She knew about Mr.Grumpy, she had dealt with him a few mornings before he had gotten his coffee.
“Maks” Loud this time. She also tried to shake him, but no luck.
After several more times she realized that the gentle approach wasn’t going to work. She turned her head, which was still resting on his thigh, opened her mouth and bit him through his pants. It wasn’t hard, and it was meant to be playful.
“What the hell?” His voice startled and he looked around confused.
“It’s your own fault” He stared at her.
“How the hell is you biting me, my fault?”
“You wouldn’t wake up nor let me go” He just looked at her.
“Here I am, offering up my body for your comfort, and this is how you repay me?”
“Well, we are here, and I want to go to sleep in a proper bed, not the backseat of a car. I’m sorry” She was getting worried that he was really mad. She didn’t mean to upset him, she just couldn't wake him up.
“I’m sure there were plenty of other options, all of which are much more rewarding than getting bitten in the thigh” She didn’t catch the playful look in his eye or the smirk on his lips as he said that.
“I’m sorry” Still looking down she turned around and got out of the car. She grabbed her stuff and hurried into the hotel, hoping to get to her room before he caught up with her. Luckily, Charlie was waiting just inside, her room key in his hand. Handing it to her, they got in the elevator. Looking up she saw Maks entering the hotel, staring at her as the elevator doors were closing.
4. Chapter 4
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Meryl bit Maks, now what
Frick…...frick frick frick frick frick.
What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking, that was the problem. And now he was mad at her.
Although she showered at the rink, she took another one as she got to her room. She needed to calm down after the most idiotic move ever. She bit him. She has never bitten anyone in her life, that she knew of. Her parents had never mentioned that she was a biter as a kid, so it had clearly been picked up as an adult. And how she was going to be able to look him in the eyes the next day, she had no idea.
Getting into bed, she tried to get comfortable. A thousand thoughts swirling in her head. His face as the elevator doors closed kept popping up every time she closed her eyes. She tried to push it out of her mind, but to no luck. After a while she just gave up, and although she knew it wouldn’t help her falling asleep, at least it would help take her mind of him, and her idiotic move.
Scrolling through one picture after another of cute puppies lifted her mood. She liked a few of them, they were just so cute. After a while she ran out of puppies. She didn’t think it would be possible, but she ran out. She had already seen all the other ones. And she knew she really should get some sleep. Putting her phone away, she finally felt like she could sleep.
Nope.
What the hell was happening? Why couldn’t she sleep? Granted she was upset about her little spat with Maks, but she was also dead tired. One should clearly win over the other in her mind. And it wasn’t as if she had any more adrenaline running through her body at this point.
Suddenly there was a knock on her door.
Look at her phone, she realized that it was 1am. Who would be at her hotel room door at 1am? Grabbing her robe, she walked over to the door and look through the peep hole. Maks.
Not sure if she wanted to open the door, she hesitated. There was another knock.
“Meryl, I know you are there, open up”
She opened the door.
“What are you doing here Maks?
She didn’t look at him. Hoping he would go away.
Suddenly she felt his hand grab hers as he walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind him.
“You are not sleeping. Why are you not sleeping? You get maybe 3-4 hours a night, and it’s not enough”
“How do you know I wasn’t sleeping? And why aren’t you sleeping?”
“You were looking at puppies”
She didn’t say anything. What was she suppose to say? They just stood there in silence. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t pull away. As much as she was embarrassed about what she done in the car, the feel of her hand in his made her feel calm right away.
“Well, let’s go to bed then” He hadn’t let go of her hand, so he used it to lead her to the bed. |
118eb9e411f345299981e073fe48d648 | ['9174fbbf7f0040bebabb700b1e1f3542'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> I don't intend to make this story toooo long as its only going to be a fun little summer project for me - not something I take extremely seriously or anything.
> Regardless, I hope its not sloppy and I hope you enjoy it!
"Jughead, are you alright there?" Mrs Blake addressed, a hint of concern present in her tone.
No reply.
"Jughead!" She snapped - voice louder than the previous.
The teen physically jumped as he was caught entirely off guard.
"Sorry, what?" He replied. His voice sounded a lot more timid than the teacher before him.
"What was the answer to that question I just asked?" Mrs Blake rolled her shoulders back, clearly confident.
"Uhh," Jughead stalled, "46." To be truthful, his answer sounded more like question than a statement and, by the look on his teacher's face, it was clearly the wrong one.
"I asked if you were okay..." The students around him snorted and snickered whilst the professor simply rolled her eyes, turned back to the chalkboard and continued to ramble on about the formula for quadratics. Jughead tried his very hardest to focus but to no avail, his mind wondered back to a certain redhead.
And Jughead hated himself for being so infatuated with his friend, vowing that he'd never tell him because it'd surely ruin their friendship for good. Though, who could resist those perfect pink lips which curl upward ever so slightly when the redhead smiles or, the crook of his neck, coated only by soft pale skin, free from any blemishes. Who could resist his messy bed hair, loving brown eyes or plump bouncy ass which Jughead would love to just...--
That's when the bell went off, signalling the school day was finally, and thankfully, over.
______
"Jesus Christ, Juggy, you're playing like a motherfucker tonight." Archie laughed after Jughead had been killed for the 13th time in a row.
The two were sat on the floor in Archie's bedroom, both cross legged, playing another generic first-person-shooter game - not that Jughead was really paying it much mind. In fact, the _only_ thing he could think about was how the thick prominent veins pulsed and moved within Archie's muscular arms as he flicked and pressed the different controls. Jughead licked his lips.
"Aha yeah I guess I'm just a bit tired." He tried to shrug it off with a laugh though his tone wasn't so convincing.
Archie instantly had his eyes on him, clearly not fooled by his act. Throwing his controller down on his bed, the redhead paused the game. Staring at his best friend, he subconsciously moved closer. "Hey," his voice was soft. Comforting, "Everything okay?"
"Who me? Yeah I mean, yeah I'm all good." Jughead spluttered almost too quickly. Sighing, he got up. Sure, Archie was his best friend but recently, it had gotten just too hard to be around him. Hell, it was bad enough when he wasn't there. Jughead just couldn't catch a break. "I should really get home."
"Have I done something wrong?" There was definitely a glint of something in Archie's eyes now. Guilt.
Jughead wanted to scream. " _It's not you, its goddamn me! I can't get your fucking beautiful face out of my mind. No matter hard I try, its always you. I can't even be in the same room as you. Do you even know how tempting you are?!_ "
But instead, he simply smiled and shook his head.
______
Today just keeps getting worse and worse. To start off with Jughead had to sit next to Archie in Biology, whilst their arms brushed together constantly, and now, this? Gym Class. With Archie. Lifting Dumbbells.
Jughead could almost feel the drool pooling in his mouth as he watched the muscular teen lift the large dumbbells with ease. His large arms flexed and tensed rhythmically whilst small groans escaped the boy's lips with every contraction.
" _God you look like a model_ "
"Huh? Did you say something there, Juggy?" Archie questioned, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on his friend.
"What?" He gulped "Oh, no, not a word." Panic flushed through Jughead's body as he felt the heat rising up his neck. He whipped around to hide his face from his friend.. and that's when he noticed it. Looking down, the blushing teen saw a tent in his gym shorts. _Fuck, that's not good._
"Uh, Arch? I left my water bottle in my locker; I'll be right back." He practically ran out the room.
______
Not two minutes later could footsteps be heard, heading for the locker room.
"Who would have thought that Riverdale's favourite little sociopath is gay - and for his best friend at that!" Reggie exclaimed snidely as he waltzed into the locker room.
Jughead scoffed "Oh really? What makes you thing that?" Reggie continued to approach him until he was backed up against the wall.
"How about your raging boner for starters." he whispered, directly into the shorter teens ear. Jughead flinched. _Oh shit._
"I guess we'll be seeing each other a lot from now on." The Smirk on Reggie's face only continue to grow. "You best get back out there, wouldn't want to keep your boyfriend waiting."
Just like that, he slid out the door, leaving a very conflicted Jughead slumped in the corner. Boy was he fucked now.
2. Chapter 2
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I made this chapter a little bit longer as I felt bad for the first one being so short.
> Hope you enjoy!
Jughead was lying in bed, constantly tossing and turning, coated in cold sweat, when his phone vibrated on his bedside table. The light from the device's screen lit up the boy's room as he sat up and scooped it up. A text.
Unknown Number [19:54]
_You know, Gay Boy, I've given it some thought and I'll keep your little Secret._
_But I'll cost you._ | 93b6d26c0bed42b499ee6886c918933e | ['9174fbbf7f0040bebabb700b1e1f3542'] | Catch Me (I Think I'm In Love)
**Author's Note:**
> Hello!
> I haven't written anything in over 2 years and this is my little way of getting back into it. I've never had the motivation to finish multi-chaptered works so you can definitely expect more one-shots. This is unbeta-ed so I apologise for any mistakes!
Thomas was late which, characteristically, was very unlike him. He hopped around his apartment, trying to put on his sock while simultaneously searching for his keys. He knew taking that nap would come back to bite his ass.
Minho had texted hours prior commanding Thomas to clear his schedule for the evening as he was being forced to attend a very important celebration at his house -- which, for the record, meant it definitely wasn't important nor an adequate reason to celebrate. Either way, Thomas never liked to be late. He hated the feeling of having people be waiting solely on him. He didn't want to be an inconvenience for anybody.
So this is how Thomas finds himself practically running, with no sweater (because he definitely did _not_ have the time to find one), down a heavily frosted road. The brunette felt as if he was floating. Freezing, but floating no less. His shoes offered no grip to the already slippery street as he practically glided across it. Other passersby gave Thomas strange looks as he skidded past, trying his best to avoid the major sheets of ice. Regardless, it was already starting to get dark and it's lethal blackness was becoming increasingly hard to spot. Still, he did not give up his relentless pace.
Realistically, he should have seen it coming: high speeds on an already unpredictable surface was not a combination for good and yet Thomas hoped that luck would be on his side this time. He had hoped everything would go smoothly so that he could arrive at Minho's at a relatively acceptable time.
Thomas took his eyes off of where he was walking for one second to fish his phone out of his pocket and check the time and, right at that moment, his shoes lost grip of the pavement beneath him. His leg jolted ahead and up from underneath him, sending the boy fumbling backwards. He flew his arms outwards in a meek attempt to stabilise himself but to no avail.
"Bloody hell!" Thomas heard a voice shout from what seemed to be right behind his ear as he felt arms hurriedly wrap around his waist, catching him. The stranger lurched backwards from the impact but remained on their feet, Thomas in their arms. They stayed like that for a moment as the two got over their shock and Thomas couldn't deny how nice the shared warmth felt. He pulled himself back onto his feet.
"Are you alright, mate?" Thomas turned and faced the blonde stranger, who was smiling fondly, as if holding back a laugh. He seemed to be around the same age as him and roughly a similar height too. Thomas thanked God that it hadn't been an old lady stood him -- or a small child.
The brunette hoped the red of cheeks from the cold concealed his embarrassment as he blushed. "I think so?" He returned, his statement sounding more like a question, "Thankyou, by the way."
The boy chuckled and dismissed him with his hand, "It's alright. You seemed like you were in a bit of a hurry."
"My friend's making me go to some stupid party get-together or whatever and I'm already late." He groaned, finally taking the chance to look at the time. He was in fact late. "I don't even know what we're celebrating!" He added, exasperated.
The blonde laughed, a wholehearted laugh and Thomas considered if it was the best sound he'd ever heard (he decided it in fact was) as a smile subconsciously settled on his lips -- his frustration from moments ago long forgotten.
"Are you going to Minho's?"
"What, yeah? You know him?"
The stranger smiled, "Yep and unless there's two idiots out there hosting an unsolicited celebration, I'd reckon we're both headed the same way." He extended his hand "I'm Newt."
"Thomas." He shook the boys hand, trying not to enjoy its given warmth _too_ much. "Okay, but we should get going," he paused before adding, "and if Minho asks why we're late, I'm blaming you."
"Oh, yeah?" Newt retorted as he slapped Thomas's arm jokingly, "Well we'll see who's laughing when you undoubtedly fall on your ass again!"
And Thomas _did_ inevitably slip on the ice time and time again but, each time, Newt was always there to catch him.
**Author's Note:**
> I hope you enjoyed, thankyou so much for reading!
> Kudos & Comments are so greatly appreciated ♡ |
899fe6bcc51d4bfdabef2958f961ed62 | ['91916fad811e46c687644f9f5be33388'] | “Izuku Midoriya” Izuku replied shaking the red-head’s hand.
“Mineta wanted to talk to you alone by the way.” Kirishima told him.
“Thanks.” Izuku replied, walking back up to the second floor, “I’ll go see what he wants.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Authors Note: "What the fuck? I thought we were gonna see flirty me?" You just assumed that, and you know what they say about assuming. You make an ass of yourself and then Ranger screws you over. What? Must be an American thing? "BTW what's gonna happen next?" Battle training and the USJ. You won't like it. "A normal person would say that without salivating."
>
> As Always
>
> "Later"
4. Deadpool Vs. Nomu
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Battle training and the USJ
_ Italics - Izuku breaking the fourth wall _
**Bold - Author addressing Izuku & time skips**
** _Bold Italics - All Might_ **
“Why hath you summoned me grape boi?” Izuku said while entering a purple room.
“It’s simple really.” Mineta started with a nervous tone, “I want to hire you to attack my step-father.”
“Why, exactly?” Izuku asked, looking confused.
“The man is an asshole.” Mineta began to explain, “He was nice while he was dating my mom but as soon as they got married and had my a kid he started showing his true colors.”
“Ok, you’ve got my attention. What exactly was he doing? Depending on his actions, my price will either get lower or higher.” Izuku explained to Mineta.
“Well it started with him cheating on my mother. It then escalated to him beating her.” Mineta began to explain.
“Ok my fee is now lowered slightly.” Izuku told the boy.
“Later he turned his attention to me and decided I was the perfect punching bag. I was ten at the time.” Mineta explained with tears in his eyes.
“Ok we’ve now gotten to about $150 American.” Izuku said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“And not that I’m here, I’m worried he’ll start hitting my younger brother.” Mineta tearfully explained.
“Ok just lowered to $75.” Izuku told the boy, with an angry look on his face, “But I’m gonna need a name.”
“His name is Hisashi Midoriya.” Mineta said, causing Izuku to gain a look of shock.
“Ok just because it’s him I’m gonna waive my fee.” Izuku told Mineta, causing him to gain a shocked look.
“Wait, Why?” Mineta asked in shock.
“I was planning on going after him and thanks to you, I can do that easily now.” Izuku explained with an excited look on his face.
“What exactly did he do to you to earn that?” Mineta asked confused.
“That dick you called a step-father just happens to be my father, and trust me, I have plenty to say to him.” Izuku explained to Mineta.
“Oh right, the whole selling you to a villian and all the tourture.” Mineta began to explain, “The girls were talking about it and all the guys heard through the vents.”
“Makes sense.” Izuku replied in a calm manner before continuing on, “Would you like to tag along? I’m not gonna kill him. I’m just gonna hurt him, really bad.”
“Just as long as you let me get a few hits in myself.” Mineta replied, shaking Izuku’s hand.
“I got a feeling we’re gonna get along famously.” Izuku responded.
**The Next Day**
“ _ Ok first of all, Time skip, really? Second, why did you make Mineta my step-brother? _ ” **Because I wanted to give you an easy way to find your father and I also want to give Mineta a redemption arc. ** “ _ Makes sense. What do you have planned for me when I get to “Talk” to my father? _ ” **Why should I spoil the surprise? ** “ _ Aw, C’mon _ ” **Don’t worry, you’ll like it. He won’t. Also enjoy having Mineta as your sidekick. Think of him as your version of Hydra Bob.**
** _“I AM” _ ** a very deep and awesome voice began to say before the classroom door opened, ** _“COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON”_ **
“IT’S ALL MIGHT” Izuku yelled out while blasting an airhorn and activating a strobe light.
** _“I don’t need a hype man Deadpool, but thanks” _ ** All Might told the mercenary.
“All might acknowledged me!” Izuku said while at this point kneeling and bowing, “I’M NOT WORTHY!”
** _“Ok”_ ** All might replied awkwardly before switching back to his excited tone, ** _“Today we will be doing combat training, grab your costumes and let’s meet at Gym Gamma.” _ **
**At Gym Gamma**
“So, what kind of hair spray do you use to get your hair to stay up like that?” Izuku asked All Might.
** _“I don’t use hair spray. It just does that for some reason.” _ ** All Might replied to the merc.
“Like how Fabio’s hair just kind of does that flowing thing, even when it’s not windy.” Izuku replied causing All Might to get a confused look.
** _“Just get into position and wait for the exercise.” _ ** All Might told Izuku, causing him to go to the training location right as the students came into the room.
** _“Ok students, today your gonna be fighting a villain. Our resident vigilante has graciously volunteered to play the villain. And before you ask I was gonna have you fight him in teams of two but he said and I quote “Just have them all come at me at once. I can take them”. And with that. GO!” _ ** All Might told the students.
**Five Minutes Later**
** _“Ok students, I want you to explain why he was able to take you all down in five minutes.” _ ** All Might said while the students of class 1-A were all putting cold packs on their wounds. | 16273a203f2042afaccb885b47b24d52 | ['91916fad811e46c687644f9f5be33388'] | **My least favorite character is Mineta. He’s only useful twice. Once in the USJ and once in the movie, of course they had to bribe him with the empty promise of a harem. My favorite moment was the final battle between All Might and All For One. It’s just so epic.**
**Thanks for the questions. I hope you all enjoyed sending them, I enjoyed answering them. If this is something you want to see again feel free to send more questions and I’ll answer them. I might even make this it’s own thing instead of at the end of a chapter if I get enough questions. Also thanks for supporting this up to 20 chapters. I honestly didn't think this would do good enough to make it that far (I didn’t think I’d make it to 10) I really appreciate it.**
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Authors Note: Chapter 19 Answers: The games mentioned are real and free to download. The whole thing about Kaminari and Eri was suggested by the reader The Keeper of Worlds on FF.net. He suggested I gave Kaminari a win that involved protecting Eri. The thing about Mineta doing the He’s Not Coming is a reference to both How I Met Your Mother and the MHA School Briefs light novels. Their version of the contest is from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, along with the line about their skin being burnt off. The skin graft location is one of the parts of the body where they actually take skin from when you need a skin graft.
>
> As Always
>
> Later
21. Kaminari Memes and Cosplay
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Mina tries to make a meme and Deku cosplays
Class usernames (as of now)
Deku Dice Clay - Izuku Midoriya
Bomberman - Katsuki Bakugo
Sonic - Tenya Lida
Acid Trip - Mina Ashido
Bass Bitch - Kyoka Jiro
Raichu - Denki Kaminari
Froppy - Tsuyu Asui
Tentacle Hentai - Mezo Shoji
Thermostat - Shoto Todoroki
Discount Sue Storm - Toru Hagakure
Bootleg Spiderman - Hanta Sero
Knuckles - Eijiro Kirishima
French Fry - Yuga Aoyama
Tails - Mashirao Ojiro
Deus Ex Machina - Momo Yaoyorozu
Anti-Grav - Ochaco Uraraka
Ultra Furry - Koji Koda
Sugar Daddy - Rikido Sato
Tsukuyomi - Fumikage Tokoyami
Purple Haze - Hitoshi Shinso
6:00 pm on a Monday
EAT ASS, SUCK A DICK, SELL DRUGS
Acid Trip: Ok, I need some help.
Anti-Grav: What do you need help with?
Acid Trip: I got a picture of Kaminari right after he overuses his quirk and I need the perfect caption to make it into a meme.
Anti-Grav: Oh, ok. How about...When THe Weed Hits Just Right.
Acid Trip: Good so far.
Bass Bitch: When Netflix Brings Back Your Favorite Series.
Acid Trip: Awesome.
Raichu: When Your Girl Finally Lets You Get To Third Base.
Acid Trip: You to Kaminari?
Raichu: You just have to laugh at yourself once in a while.
Acid Trip: True.
Deku Dice Clay: Swiggity Swooty, I’m Coming For That Booty.
Acid Trip: Ok that wins my contest.
Deku Dice Clay: What contest?
Deus Ex Machina: I think he might have been talking to Jiro.
Bass Bitch: Why couldn’t you send that in a private message?
Deku Dice Clay: And miss out on you getting all flustered. No way.
Tails: At least he’s not getting all rapey like Mineta was.
Discount Sue Storm: Are you wanting Midoriya to hit on you like that.
Deku Dice Clay: I’ll do it to.
Tails: Why? Just, Why?
Bomberman: This is just getting weird.
Purple Haze: Agreed.
Knuckles: Did they just…
Raichu: Agree on something?
Froppy: Nobody smells toast right now, right?
Sonic: I highly doubt we’re all having a stroke.
Bootleg Spiderman: Don’t be so sure. I’m currently watching Midoriya do his Godfather impression right now. BTW Koda, Midoriya is using your bunny for this.
Ultra Furry: So that’s where she is.
Deku Dice Clay: You’ll get her back unharmed. Besides, she was already in the room and I brought the swiveling chair from my room.
Ultra Furry: She likes when you scratch behind the ears.
Bootleg Spiderman: But why are you in a pimp suit?
Deku Dice Clay: How is this a pimp suit?
Raichu: It’s not a pimp suit. It’s just a regular suit with a duster instead of a blazer.
Bootleg Spiderman: Duster?
Sonic: A trench coat that goes down to the feet.
Tentacle Hentai: Why are you dressed like that anyways?
Deku Dice Clay: I just got back from a cosplay event.
Knuckles: Who were you going as?
Deku Dice Clay: I went as Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop.
Acid Trip: I thought he just wore a blazer with the sleeves rolled up.
Anti-Grav: When he needs to get serious he wears a duster so he can carry more weapons.
Bass Bitch: Literally every time he goes to some costume event he choses something that he has to put in the least effort. Got a blue suit and a brown duster. Dresses as Spike Spiegel.
Acid Trip: But his eyes are the wrong color.
Deku Dice Clay: BTW thanks for the brown contacts Momo.
Deus Ex Machina: No problem.
Anti-Grav: Did you go alone?
Deku Dice Clay: No. Kachan went as Jet Black and Kyo went as Faye.
Acid Trip: I NEED PICTURES.
Bass Bitch: No.
Bomberman: No.
Deku Dice Clay: I’ll show you later.
**Notes for the Chapter:** |
8537c08daf3d4b13bcc5db067c98cda1 | ['91918b2248a34d3b9ff8ab551f9d2f85'] | “God, Mike,” he breathes into the kiss when Mike’s body answers that intrusion with another erratic thrust of groin against groin. “Fuck—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mike urges him on, clearly out of his mind with want and those purposeful, needy thrusts against his groin make Harvey’s head spin and take his breath away.
“I—Now,” he gasps and Mike nods so their lips slide against each other and his muscles clench around Harvey’s finger impossibly tight. “Want you now—”
“Yeah, yeah, oh god, yeah—” Mike’s movements speed up and so do Harvey’s, an echo of Mike’s desperate need, and he shoves another finger into Mike’s loose body while his tongue invades Mike’s mouth and claims what is rightfully his, the heat, the ragged breaths, the moans. He wants to swallow Mike whole and he needs to be inside of him so bad it makes his head spin.
“Mike,” he moans when Mike’s hips keep grinding against his own and his dick so painfully hard in his pants and so slippery wet with pre-come already, and he knows Mike is just the same, just as much in desperate need as he is. “Shit, I—”
“Yeah,” Mike groans and rolls off of Harvey with an effort that seems to be superhuman. He yanks his boxers down over his ass and before he’s even ready, Harvey is on top of him, pinning him down with his weight, his fingers in Mike’s ass again and his dick hard and leaking inside the confinement of Harvey’s underwear, heavy and fat between Mike’s legs.
The skin on Mike’s back is hot and sticky with sweat under his t-shirt and it burns Harvey’s lips when they brush over it. Mike is trying to thrust back against his fingers, to fuck himself on them and when Harvey half-scrambles to his knees he can’t help but stare. Mike is so open for him and he takes his fingers so beautifully and so eagerly that it makes Harvey’s dick twitch and harden even more. “Can I…” Harvey feels dizzy and he withdraws his fingers a little from Mike’s tight hole before shoving them back in again and again. “Do you need…”
“Fuck,” he hisses as he tries to yank his own pants down with his free hand and struggles to free his cock from the confinements of his underwear. “Want—”
As much as he longs to bury himself in Mike’s body again, he doesn’t want to hurt Mike like that. His eyes dart to the bedside table frantically and finally, finally, he has pushed his pants down over his hips and ass and Mike looks so good lying there in front of him, all spread out and eager, begging to be taken, fucking himself on Harvey’s fingers, one hand underneath his body, fisting his cock as good as he can.
“Shit,” Harvey says again and bites his lips. He withdraws his fingers from Mike’s ass and grabs hold of his dick. “Can I…” He moans as Mike mutters something under his breath and raises his ass a little more. “I want…” Leaning forward, he brings the tip of his cock between Mike’s cheeks and runs it up and down Mike’s cleft. Once, twice.
Mike is trembling underneath him and Harvey can feel the intense, impossible heat radiating form his body.
“Yeah,” Mike breathes again, over and over again. “Can—please…need—god—need you now, please, please… yes…”
Mike is still open and loose from their last round last night and his body yields so beautifully when Harvey pushes inside slowly and steadily.
Once Harvey is fully sheathed, he takes a shuddering breath and rests his forehead against Mike’s trembling back. “What you do to me,” he murmurs and tries to push Mike’s t-shirt up a little more and his own along with it to make as much contact with Mike’s naked skin as possible. “You… _you_ …”
And this is when Mike begins to move. He starts to roll his hips against Harvey’s groin, slowly at first and beautifully steadily. Harvey slots into Mike with ease and Mike’s undulating movements cause the most glorious friction to Harvey’s straining dick. Every time he’s inside of Mike again with his whole length, Mike tightens his muscles and a bolt of lightning shoots through Harvey’s body.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Harvey pant-moan-chuckles against Mike’s back and he can feel himself swell inside of Mike even more. “God…”
“Yeah,” Mike murmurs and shakes his head when Harvey’s dick swells inside of him. “Feels so good, make you come so hard, yeah… yeah…”
Harvey’s hips find a rhythm of their own and he buries himself in Mike’s body again and again, the skin between them sweaty and their t-shirts sort of in the way but there is no way of stopping and undressing now. Mike is moaning into the pillows and Harvey’s head starts spinning again when he becomes short of air. His climax builds behind his closed eyelids and he can feel how it slowly takes over his body, filling him from head to toe.
“Mike,” he pants, pressing his open lips against Mike’s spine. He wants to take Mike with him over the edge and when Mike trembles underneath him he knows that he will. He slams into Mike one more time and he can feel Mike’s body tense and his muscles clench around him and for a moment Mike’s whole body vibrates and a keening sound falls from Mike’s lips, muffled by the pillows and the hand Mike has shoved between them and his mouth. | a90f016d1ba441d9ba065bafb24b13ee | ['91918b2248a34d3b9ff8ab551f9d2f85'] | Confirmation that this is in fact _exactly_ the case comes only a second later when Lauren Pearl enters the back office and stops dead in her tracks as soon as he sees them. She narrows her eyes and presses her lips together, shooting first Harvey then Mike a deathly glare. Then she turns around on her heels without saying a word and storms out of the kitchen.
“Good thing I quit,” Mike murmurs, running his fingers through his truly messy hair.
“Yeah, probably,” Harvey grins and gives Mike a tiny shove towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Let’s get our coats and get out of here.”
On the way to Harvey’s place they make out like teenagers in the back of the town car, the partition drawn up and their hands everywhere on each other.
Mike giggles throatily when Harvey tries to sneak his hand into Mike’s trousers and he cants his hips to give Harvey better access. He’s already getting hard again and so is Harvey, and Harvey can’t wait to be inside of Mike again.
Which is exactly what he tells Mike, causing Mike’s cock to twitch against Harvey’s fingers.
The elevator ride up to his condo is pure torture and for a moment Harvey considers pressing the emergency stop button and taking Mike right there and then but he wants to do it properly this time, wants to take his time and to explore and enjoy Mike’s body to the fullest.
So when they are inside Harvey’s place and have taken their coats off, Harvey pulls Mike close and cups his face in his hands. He runs his thumb over Mike’s pliant, well-kissed lips and smiles.
“Do you want a drink?”
The smile that lights up Mike’s face takes Harvey’s breath away.
“Can I take it to the bedroom?” he asks, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Harvey’s lips. “Then yes, in that case I’d love a drink.”
Harvey nods and kisses Mike back, lingering just there for a while, letting their lips brush against each other and inhaling Mike’s scent.
“You smell so fucking good,” he whispers and he can feel Mike smile in reply.
“Wanna eat me?” Mike mumbles and now it’s Harvey’s time to smile.
“Most definitely,” he says quietly, letting his tongue dart out and run over Mike’s upper lip. “And I will. Some day soon.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
Harvey lets go of Mike to pour a glass of scotch and then he leads Mike into the bedroom where he sets down the glass on the bedside table.
“Come here.”
Mike steps into his arms as if it were nothing when in fact this feels like everything to Harvey.
“This is a bit scary,” Mike whispers and Harvey nods.
“Yeah a bit, but not really, not much…”
They undress each other slowly, letting their fingers brush over every centimeter of exposed skin, lips and tongues following in their fingers’ wake. Mike is beautiful, devastatingly so, and Harvey simply can’t keep his hands off of him. He wants to touch him everywhere and in every way he can think of and then some more.
This time, they take their time touching and kissing and getting to know each other’s bodies to their hearts’ desire.
It’s a good thing they took the edge off before in that storage room, Harvey thinks, and not a second later Mike says those exact words to him out loud.
Nevertheless they have to stop for a moment after just a few minutes, both too wound up again already and not ready yet to let it come to an end. Harvey props himself up on one elbow, panting heavily, and then he reaches for the glass on the nightstand. He takes a small sip and lets the exquisite scotch roll over his tongue and around in his mouth. It has nothing on Mike’s taste, though, Harvey comes to realize. He takes another sip and leans down, searching for Mike’s eyes.
Mike nods. Their lips meet and a thin rivulet of liquid pours from Harvey’s mouth into Mike’s.
Mike swallows and his lips brush against Harvey’s because Harvey just can’t move away from Mike, not even an inch. When Mike licks his lips, both their lips, Harvey’s stomach clenches and it feels as if he’s falling. For some completely insane reason he’s so crazy about Mike it makes him dizzy.
“I’m kinda crazy about you,” Mike whispers, his eyes still closed and his lips against Harvey’s. “Just so you know.”
“How do you do that?” Harvey murmurs, claiming Mike’s mouth in a slow, languid kiss.
“I don’t know,” Mike says when they break apart again, searching for Harvey’s eyes. “It’s just…”
“Yeah,” Harvey breathes and shifts a little closer, the tip of his hard cock nudging against Mike’s thigh. “Yeah, I know… Now, where were we?”
“Right there,” Mike grins and rolls onto his side as well, facing Harvey and bringing their groins together. “I want to see you this time.”
When Harvey breaches Mike’s body, settled between Mike’s open legs, they both hold their breath and the sensation of Mike’s heat pulsing around him nearly sends Harvey over the edge without either of them moving at all.
There is so much trust in Mike’s eyes, so much arousal and so much need. They stay like that for a while, listening to each other’s erratic heartbeats and savoring the sensation of being so close it almost hurts. When Harvey’s cock twitches inside of Mike and hardens even more, Mike moans and his muscles contract, urging Harvey to please, _please_ move.
And Harvey does. He slides in and out of Mike in a slow, deliberate rhythm, Mike’s hands roaming his back or cupping his ass to steady him or to pull him even closer, even deeper inside, and this time their arousal builds gradually until it feels as if they melt together and fly. |
4dddd45791f041158c78f1383470e293 | ['91b2460dcb924a5db77c8d1816a9c4c4'] | She's Not Afraid
All throughout the party, Lydia was blatantly flirting with Niall. To be fair, I did tell her that we were 'just friends' over breakfast this morning. But let's be honest here, she knew that Niall and I had an unspoken agreement.
Unfortunately, Niall and I also had gotten into a fight last weekend when I still refused to make anything official.
"I don't know how many times I've told you, Rose, but I don't want a fuck buddy. I want a relationship! With you!"
"I've told you the same amount of times that I don't want anything serious! If you don't like our arrangement, then why are you still here?"
"Because I have feelings for you!"
"I don't know what to tell you, but I'm not changing my mind on this. I don't want a boyfriend."
"Fine. Don't call me when you get lonely or need a date to a party."
And so I didn't. After almost a week of radio silence, I spotted him across the room flirting up Lydia and some new member.
To be fair, his frat is throwing the party, so I could have just not shown up and went to a different kegger, but I had to show that I wasn't affected either.
So that's how I ended up standing by the bar, half-listening to Nick drone on and on about the upcoming intramural finals that his frat made it into.
"Rose, are you even listening?"
I snapped my eyes back to Nick. "Of course, you were talking about…" Shit. What was he talking about?
"That's what I thought. Why don't you just go talk to him?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I took a big gulp from my solo cup and looked around.
"Rosalyn Edwards. I've known you since Spanish One freshman year, and I pledged with Niall. Neither of you are fooling anyone. Please put all of us out of our misery and hook up already."
"We have hooked up, and look where that's gotten us."
"You know what I mean. Everyone here knows that you're afraid of a commitment, for some unknown reason. But if you don't get over yourself, Niall is going to move on. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life watching Niall flirt and make out with blonde bimbos like Lydia, or do you want to finally put your big girl panties on and get him?"
Sometime during Nick's speech, my jaw dropped to the floor. "Um… well." I glanced over to where Lydia was tossing her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder and Niall was laughing at what I'm sure is a tacky joke.
Was this what I wanted? To watch Niall flirt with other girls? I mean, I flirted with other guys while we were hooking up, but seeing Niall do the same thing really hurts.
I glanced up at Nick and he nudged me with his elbow. "Go. Show that girl that he's yours."
I quickly downed my drink, slammed my cup onto the bar, and swerved through the crowd until I finally was face to face with Niall and Lydia.
"Oh, hi Rose. I didn't expect you to be here," Lydia snapped. If looks could kill, I would be dead. However, I was not going to let that stop me.
Before I lost my courage, I grabbed Niall by the shirt collar and kissed him. At first, he didn't respond. Just as I was losing hope, I felt his arms move up my arms and wrap themselves into my hair.
I heard a huff as Lydia walked away and some cheers from around the room. As I slowly pulled apart from Niall, I blushed as I noticed several pairs of eyes looking at us.
"What was that for?" Niall panted at me as his hands rubbed my arms. I realized that I still hadn't let go of his shirt. And that wasn't the only thing I wasn't letting go of tonight.
"I'm an idiot. I want you." Niall looked expectantly down at me. "I want a relationship with you."
That thousand-watt smile could light up this whole town. "If I knew flirting with her would do the trick, I would have done so months ago." | 31c9a3ac3059448a882bc912b5b4dcbf | ['91b2460dcb924a5db77c8d1816a9c4c4'] | Change Your Ticket
“Is, come one, one more night.”
“You know I can’t. I have to get back to school. Finals are coming up and then I’ll be all yours.”
That cute little pout of his did all the worst things to you, and he knew it.
“Just email your professors, tell them you’re sick, and you’ll be back in class on Wednesday.” Only having classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday did have it’s advantages, but that’s beside the point. I have other responsibilities to attend to.
“Ni, I have group projects that I’m in. I can’t just blow those off, too. And what about my internship?”
Niall threw his head back in a barking laugh that took up all the empty spaces of the room. “Isabel Martin, did you forget who you’re interning for?”
“No, but-“
“But nothing. What is the point of working for a company that works for me if you don’t abuse the power every now and then?”
I resumed my packing with a pout. “I don’t want people thinking that’s the only reason I got the job.”
“Oh, Is,” Niall moved from his spot on the bed and squatted in front of my suitcase. “You know that’s not what I meant and no one thinks that. If you had just gotten the gig because of me, you wouldn’t be an intern, now would ya?”
Slowly meeting his eyes, I sighed. “No, I’d be running the place.”
“That’s right. And anyone who works as hard as you deserves a day off. Come on, let me change your ticket home.”
“So I’ll leave tomorrow instead?”
“Stay with me a couple more days, just until Tuesday. It’s not the same when you’re gone.”
Those piercing blue eyes would be the death of you: could they really see all the way into your soul? With a sigh, you put down the clothes in your hands and stood up.
“Alright Horan, change my ticket. I’ll stay a little bit longer.” |
2e42f709d0bc4b258e8e1c6d4a1bd337 | ['91b2a382dae94c49a10f149fe7ec7718'] | First Fight
**Author's Note:**
> I got this idea from a Friends episode with Monica and Chandler. Yep.
> I'm thinking of starting a series of 'Firsts' because it kinda sounds like fun as I'm slowly getting back into the swing of writing.
> But as I am still getting back into the swing, feedback would be lovely! :)
“I can’t believe you, Arthur!”
“Can’t believe what?” Arthur threw over his shoulder to Merlin, who was walking angrily behind him into his chambers.
“The way you just treated me,” Merlin said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Arthur rolled his eyes, “Please, Merlin. Don’t be a girl. I treated you as I usually do.”
Merlin scoffed, “No you didn’t.”
Arthur sat on his bed and started pulling off his boots. “I treated you like a servant, Merlin, which you are if you didn’t realize.”
Moving in front of Arthur, Merlin glared. “Yes, I am a servant. But I’m also more than that. I had thought we established that by now.”
Arthur sighed and pulled off his socks. “We can’t have people suspecting.”
“So that gives you the right to treat me like dirt?”
“Merlin, I’m the Prince of Camelot and you’re my servant, I can speak to you as I wish. If you have a problem with that, then the door’s right behind you.”
Merlin blinked once, twice at Arthur before sneering, “Of course, sire,” before doing an over pronounced bow, walking away from Arthur and out his chambers, slamming the door behind him.
Arthur stared at the door before sighing and putting his head in his hands, staring at the floor. He really knows how to mess them up, doesn’t he?
\---
He hesitated before knocking three times on the door. “Merlin?”
Merlin answered the door to his chambers a few seconds later, leaning against the doorway. “Yes?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“Okay.”
Arthur paused. “Can I come in?”
Merlin shrugged and walked away from the doorframe, letting Arthur enter while he sat on his bed, “You’re the Prince of Camelot, you can do what you want.”
Arthur let out a breath.
“You wanted to talk. So talk.”
Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sighed, “So I guess this is over then?”
“What?”
“Us. This. It’s over.”
Merlin eyed him, “It is? I didn’t realize.”
Arthur blinked, and took a step towards the bed. “What do you mean? We had a fight!”
Merlin rolled his eyes and moved to kneel, becoming eye level with Arthur, “We always fight, Arthur.”
“It’s different now,” Arthur said quietly, looking at the ground.
Merlin reached out and grasped Arthur’s hand in his. “It’s not that different. You’re still a prat, I’m still an idiot.”
“Yes, but now we’re together, we shouldn’t fight… right?” He asked uncertainly, cocking his head slightly to the left.
Merlin chuckled and lifted Arthur’s chin with his two fingers, forcing them to meet eyes, blue on blue. “Even if we are together, it doesn’t make you any less of a prat and it doesn’t make me any less of an idiot. We’re the same people, Arthur, we just do this now,” Merlin finished quickly before bringing their lips together in a gentle, swift kiss that had Merlin’s lips chasing after Arthur’s when he pulled away.
He brought up a hand that caressed the base of Merlin’s neck, feeling the soft hair there between his fingers. “I am sorry, you know,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to go too far, we just aren’t ready for people to know.”
Merlin nodded and smiled genuinely, “I know. I really do, Arthur. But you can’t treat me like I’m nothing.”
Arthur shook his head rapidly, “No, no, you’re not nothing. Definitely not nothing.”
“So something then?” Merlin smirked.
Arthur chuckled quietly, “Yes, definitely something,” he said under his breath before kissing Merlin’s smiling lips yet again. | 36e13487eef14bc2870a31fc8fbe6fc5 | ['91b2a382dae94c49a10f149fe7ec7718'] | The Grace of a Captain
**Author's Note:**
> First Star Trek fic! Leave comments-- this is really just meant to be a cute lil thing to make people smile :]
> this was also posted on my tumblr js
Jim leaned back in his chair and, after allowing himself a moment to breathe, smiled brightly, “Good job, guys,” he said, rising out of his chair, “That was a close call.”
Chekov turned around and grinned at him, a small bead of sweat dripping down his temple, “Thank you, sir.”
Clapping Chekov on the shoulder, Jim stood for a moment, watching the stars whip past the ship as they drove into warp. They moved so rapidly, one was already long behind them before Jim recognized that he even saw it.
It really was a close call. Lately, everything seems like a bit of a close call. Jim’s tired and he’s stressed and sometimes, being the Captain of a starship wasn’t the job he had imagined it to be in the Academy. There were moments he doubted his ability, and even some moments where he even wanted to resign in the middle of a crisis; disappearing from existence seemed like the best option.
But there was always his team, his crew. And somehow, some way, they always made it through.
Though in the past weeks, the bridge had become tense– waiting for the next inevitable near death experience (and subsequent escape) and constantly feeling like each day is its own separate mission and attack.
But Jim watched the stars through the glass and remembered why they were all here.
He squeezed Chekov’s shoulder once more, though whether it was for Chekov or for himself, Jim wasn’t sure.
Walking back to his chair, he glanced around at his crew: Uhura’s concerned gaze, Sulu’s focused eyes, Spock’s quirked eyebrow. He breathed once again, re-assuming his role, and moved to sit down.
And he fell right on his ass.
Jim fell without the grace of a Captain, with his arms flailing and legs sliding out from under him. A yell erupted from his vocal cords without his consent while he felt the cold, hard bridge floor underneath him.
He fucking fell in the middle of shift, after they all almost died, directly on his ass.
There was a beat of silence throughout the bridge. Jim could feel all their horrified gazes and could see Chekov’s mouth gaped open like a fish out of water.
And then Uhura laughed– no, wheezed– a guffaw of a laugh that came from deep within her belly. Sulu then followed suit with a loud chuckle, and then Chekov sniggered to his right. The entire bridge was cackling with delight, the sound filling up the entire room.
Jim sat on the floor, eyes closing. He listened to the sound– the beeps of machines, the running of the strong engine, and the laughter of his friends.
“Are you all right, Captain?” Spock knelt next to him and asked. He offered him a hand.
Jim took it, smiling, “I’m just fine.” |
106661f531ae4cfea982a6e749a95922 | ['91c629bf0eec4db288121e22c84f6683'] | In Love For A While
In Love For A While
The final of the Swiss Eurovision selection had just taken place, and Anna Rossinelli had just been told that she would be Switzerland's next entry in the Eurovision.
"Oh my gosh!" she smiled to herself, as she walked down from the stage, "This is the best day ever!"
The people in the audience clapped, as the cameramen began to pack away their cameras.
"Well then," the host said, "We have chosen! Our Eurovision song is 'In Love For A While', thank you to our audience for coming, and I hope you all enjoyed the show tonight!"
Meanwhile, outside the studio, Paolo Meneguzzi was waiting around. He looked around and saw a man standing in a golden jacket and went over to him.
"Hey," Paulo said, "Michael, isn't it?"
"Oh hey, I remember you, you're that Italian guy right?" Michael said.
"I'm not Italian, I'm Swiss," Paolo said, "So, what are you doing here anyway?"
"Oh, I'm here to congratulate our new representative," Michael said.
"What?!" Paolo said, "But I'm here to do that!"
"W...Well... I can't see why we both can't-"
Suddenly, the door burst open and Anna walked out of the studio.
"Hey, Anna!" Paolo said.
"What, hey, who are you two and what are you doing here?" Anna asked.
"Well," Paolo said, "We're here to congratulate you on being chosen to represent our country in 2011."
"Why thank you. Oh wait, I remember you, you were very good. You're the Italian guy, right?" Anna asked.
"I'm not Italian, I'm Swiss," Paolo said, "And thank you, you were good too."
"Why thank you," Anna smiled.
"Yeah, you were great back there," Michael said.
"Oh my god, wait a second!" Anna yelled, "Michael von der Heide! You were there in 2010! When the British guy with the gun came in, and the PVR! Oh my god oh my god, you've gotta tell me all about it!!!"
"Ah, no, come on now," Michael smiled, "We're here to congratulate you on winning the national selection, not talk about-"
"I want to be on an adventure like that!" Anna said, "To do all the cool stuff you guys did! Do you think something like that will happen in the 2011 Eurovision?"
"Well, uhm, it's always a possibility," Michael said, "You never know, Britain may try to disrupt the Eurovision yet again."
"Yeah," Anna said, "Well, I hope they do, then it's adventure time!"
"Hahaha, oh Anna," Michael said, "It wasn't much of an adventure. Well actually the PVR was, but the whole thing with Josh and the gun? No, that wasn't good."
"Oooh, so then, I'll wish for the British to try and disrupt the Eurovision without guns," Anna said.
"I think you should wish for the British to not turn up at all," Paolo said, "You know they'll only cause trouble."
"Ok ok, that's quite enough Britain bashing," Michael said, "They probably won't turn up next year anyway."
"I heard that they may try to send something," Paolo said, "The only thing that would stop them is if the European Broadcasting Agency doesn't let them in."
"The EBA aren't going to let them enter, are they?" Michael said, "Not after last year."
"Well, it's just rumours of course, but I heard that the EBA don't want to appear anti-British, so they are probably going to be allowed to enter the next Eurovision after all," Paolo said.
"Yippee!" Anna smiled, "This means that us 2011 entrants can also do something good. That's fantastic!"
"You be careful though, ok?" Paolo said.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Anna said, "Don't worry about me, it's going to be a great experience!"
"I'm sure you'll do our country proud," Michael said.
"I will, I hope," Anna smiled.
"Well, I hope you'll do better than I did," Michael said, "You can't do any worse, technically."
"Oh yeah," Anna laughed, "Well, hopefully I'll be able to get into the final, as we haven't been able to in recent years."
"Yeah, I can't believe the Lovebugs didn't qualify," Paolo said, "We need to get people to vote for Switzerland like they used to."
"Well, maybe I can do that, hopefully we can still win," Anna smiled, looking up to the sky, hoping she was prepared for what was to come in 2011. | d4819d1af33b414ea0f4168055b64ce0 | ['91c629bf0eec4db288121e22c84f6683'] | And so Dino ran to the CD player at the back of the room and got the official Eurovision CD out, and went to track 15 - Love In Rewind. He then hit the rewind button on the CD player, playing the song backwards.
"Perfect," Dino said.
A blue portal opened up, and Aslan, the great lion of Narnia, stepped out.
"Aslan! Aslan, there's this thing-" Dino began.
"Dino, no. The digital realm needs you all now," Aslan replied, "Don't worry, you can do it."
And with that, Aslan disappeared in a flash of light.
"No! Aslan!!!" Dino yelled, "Get back here! Get back here now!!! Aslan!!!"
The tidal wave enveloped the hotel, but still the Eurovision entrants were the only ones who could see it, and they all disappeared with a faint blue light.
\----
Vlatko woke up sitting on a patch of grass. He was clearly outside.
The yellow caterpillar Digimon Kunemon was sitting there.
"Boss! Boss! I can't believe your heres! What's bringing you here!" said Kunemon, jumping up and down.
"Kunemon..." Vlatko said, "What are... what are you doing here..."
He then looked around. He was sitting in the middle of a forest, light shining through the leaves, giving the entire place and ominous green light.
"Wha-?!" he yelled, "What is this place?! We were in the hotel! What the hell is this?!"
"Boss, welcomes to da Digital World!" Kunemon smiled, his New Yorker accent shining through his words.
"The tidal wave..." Vlatko said, "Damn it!"
"Yeah, the Digital Wave brought you heres," Kunemon said, "But that's ok! That just means you're all needed for something, is all!"
"Needing for something?" Vlatko asked, "But for what?"
"Well, that's what we're going to find out, boss," Kunemon grinned, "Come on, follow me."
"Alright," Vlatko said as he followed Kunemon through the forest.
\----
"All the Eurovision entrants?! Missing?!" the hotel manager boomed, "Well? Where are they?!"
"I... we... don't know, sir," a hotel worker replied, "They've all just... vanished. No sign of them anywhere."
Stefan Raab ran into the room.
"Hey!" he yelled, "Where the hell is Lena!!! I can't find her anywhere!!!"
"Yes... we are aware of the situation..." the hotel manager said, "All the Eurovision entrants are missing."
"Missing?!" Stefan yelled, "But... what?! You were supposed to be looking after them! They're your responsibility! What the hell!!!"
"I know, I know, we're so very sorry. We're doing our best to find them but-"
"I knew you people were bad news, especially after what you did in the Belgian Civil War, but this... you better find them. You think your country is hated now, just wait until this gets out!"
And Stefan then left the room to look for Lena.
\----
Meanwhile, Vlatko and Kunemon had come across a large red beetle Digimon that was flying in the sky. It swooped down low and flew over towards them.
"Woah," Vlatko said, "What is that?"
"It's a Kuwagamon, boss!" Kunemon said.
"I am your boss now!" yelled Kuwagamon.
"No ways!" Kunemon said, "You ain't my boss! And you nevers will be! Vlatko's my boss, for now and forevers!"
And with that Kunemon shot a web at Kuwagamon, which made the beetle Digimon fly away.
"Good work Kunemon," Vlatko said.
Kunemon grinned.
"Thanks boss," Kunemon said, "Now let's get outta here."
"I'll second that," Vlatko said as the two of them walked off.
\----
Nadine looked in a hollow log.
"Helloooo?" her voice echoed around the forest.
"Well, you're not going to find your friends in there now, are you?"
"Wha?!" Nadine asked, looking up from the log and looking around, "Who... who said that?"
And then she looked up at the trees above her, and she saw it.
A large grey and purple bird, standing on a low tree branch, looking right at her.
"No..." she thought, "It couldn't have been that bird, surely."
"Well? Hello? Is anyone there? Who said that?" Nadine asked.
"Why I did, my Austrian friend," the bird said, flapping its wings as it jumped and landing softly on the grassy floor below it.
"And who are you?" Nadine said, looking at the talking bird in disbelief.
The bird Digimon just laughed at that.
"The name's Falcomon," the bird grinned, "And I'm your Digimon partner!"
"Digimon... partner?"
"Yeah," Falcomon said, "We're going to have a great time, believe me!"
\----
Meanwhile, 3JS had woken up in the forest and were searching around the place. Their digivices had been beeping a lot since they had woken up, so they figured that this place had something to do with the Digimon crisis back home in the Netherlands. Suddenly, in the distance, they saw something. A red bug like Digimon. Their digimon.
"Tentomon!" Jan yelled, as the three of them ran over to the Digimon.
"Hey guys," Tentomon said, "I'm surprised to see you all here!"
"That's cool," said a nearby mushroom-like Digimon. Mushroomon. Sieneke's Digimon.
"Oh, hey Mushroomon," Jan said, "Sieneke isn't here, but it's nice to see you again."
"Likewise," grinned Mushroomon.
\---
Nadine and Falcomon were still walking through the forest.
"Wait a second, what's that?" Nadine said, pointing at a nearby Digimon, "It's a giant bear made out of snow!"
"Oh, that's just Frigimon," Falcomon said, "Don't worry, he's a big guy but he's really friendly!"
"That... that's a Digimon?" Nadine said, "But... he's so big!"
"Yeah, some Digimon are," Falcomon replied, "But he's fine, really. Hey, let's go over and say hello to him!"
But, at that moment, the Frigimon turned and growled at them. Then he ran at them.
"Uh, on second thought, let's get outta here!" Falcomon said, as the Frigimon got closer.
"Was this the 'great time' you were talking about?" Nadine said as the two of them ran away from the giant bear Digimon.
"Of course not!" Falcomon snapped back.
\--- |
2e9153490a0f45b8ab1442645208e821 | ['91ced01a11fd437ca2b3b0ef56832fb6'] | Cat and Mouse Game
It's an uncharacteristically sunny day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I'm awake earlier than my owner. Hermione sleeps soundly in her dormitory bed, bushy hair fanned out across plump white pillow, while I leisurely lick my paws and take in Slytherin's early Quidditch practise. Malfoy zooms around the pitch, situated on his broom in a way that makes him seem self important. No doubt he thinks he is.
Blue-grey eyes dart every which way in search of the impossibly fast Golden Snitch, and as I watch him fly aimlessly around the pitch, just the look of him makes me want to claw at the flawless porcelain skin of his face and ruin it. I've tried countless times before, especially whilst wrapped protectively around Hermione's feet – I can't _stand_ to see anyone being a bother to her – but she always hoists me into her arms and coos lovingly into my fur so as to distract me from having a go at him.
“Crookshanks, come,” Hermione commands me, and I slowly but happily oblige. Giving my claws one last hearty sink into the windowsill to be sure they're extra sharp, I rise up, turn round and make a jump for the soft down of my girl's bed.
She scratches behind my ears for long moments, my _favourite_ of all earthly actions, before sitting up and fishing my brush out of her bedside drawer.
“I know you loathe this, but I'll be gentle, I promise,” she tells me, and I meow and hiss loudly when she proceeds to break that promise, allowing a metal prong to catch in a particularly matted ball of fur.
“Sorry,” she coos at me, and I purr in response knowing I could never stay cross with her long. I admit, when the unruly fur is brushed through, I almost always feel better.
Hermione replaces the brush where she always keeps it and invites me to lay lazily at her side for a while, which I do with pleasure. It's still too early to rise for classes, and I'd much rather be here than taking in Malfoy's face as it zooms across the Quidditch field. I let out a mew as I think of Slytherin losing their next match, and Hermione looks at me.
“What's funny?” she asks, eyes twinkling and laughter bubbling up.
If you only knew, my darling, if you only knew.
I hear the scurry of quick, tiny feet and instantly stand, edging toward the side of the mattress. Scabbers is just below me, and as he wiggles his filthy little rat whiskers in my direction – knowing it'll provoke me, no doubt! - the fur on my back stands up in anger and defense, maybe even a bit of excitement. After all the times I've nearly killed the stupid thing, I can't believe Ron is daft enough to lose track of him again. Much as I hate him he's evidently faster than I, and has narrowly evaded his untimely death thus far. (Maybe not so untimely? I've always wondered exactly how old he is)
“Crookshanks, don't you dare!” Hermione warns, but I lunge to the ground before she can stop me. I meow loudly for my victory, and Scabbers' squeaks are muted for the noise of my claws digging into his tail and keeping him right where I want him. This may be the day I finish this cat and mouse game. | c13d076100904ee5a0135e8b67bcc3b5 | ['91ced01a11fd437ca2b3b0ef56832fb6'] |
The Dobby Chronicles
**Author's Note:**
> Dobby is one of my all time favourite characters, so I've decided to start a series of drabbles and one shots 'The Dobby Chronicles'. These installments will consist of both cannon and non cannon pieces and elements, some will obviously be my own ideas and creations, but as with other works ideas and requests are always welcomed. I may not oblige every single one, but leave me feedback if you have plot ideas for adventures you'd like to read Dobby and his friends embarking upon. ;)
>
> Just to note, this first piece is basically entirely non cannon, made up AU scenario. Foz and Delilah are OC'S and my own creation.
**The Dobby Chronicles**
The Dark Side of Love
Dobby the house elf had always been told never to disobey his master. Lucius Malfoy was not a pleasant man, and repercussions for going against his wishes – even when Dobby found himself without any other choice – were severe. Often, in the aftermath of instances where he'd done something or other to displease Lucius, he would inflict torture upon himself before his master had a chance to find out the facts of the matter. Always, Dobby told himself it would prepare him for the much more substantial blows to follow, but it never turned out so.
Most elves possessed an unhealthy amount of loyalty toward their employers and were not subversive by nature. Not so long ago, Dobby would have placed himself in those categories, would have been the first to say he'd never subject himself to such cruel treatment by knowingly breaking the rules. But that was before Harry Potter had found a home in Hogwarts, before Dobby himself had found the meaning and mystery of love in the school's very kitchen.
As he stood in the midst of the boarding school's mealtime chaos hoping to get a moment alone with Delilah – the newest elf Albus Dumbledore had employed – he'd nearly collided with the wizard himself in the flesh.
“Dobby is very sorry Mr. Dumbledore nearly tripped over him, Sir,” the elf spoke up hurriedly, usually timid voice thick with fear and anxiety. _Please don't ask Dobby for the truth about why he is actually at Hogwarts...._ he thought to himself.
“It's quite all right, Dobby, no need for apology.” Dumbledore shifted to regain his balance, but his eyes were kind, his smile warm as he dusted off his robes. “May I ask what you're doing here today?”
The question he'd anticipated but hadn't wanted, Dobby's stomach churned inside out thrice over.
“Dobby is here to see Harry, sir,” he told the headmaster with as much confidence as he could muster, though he'd caught Delilah bringing an empty teapot back to the kitchen in his peripheral and was trying not to glance directly at her. Secretly, he hoped she'd noticed him, too.
“He's recovering in the hospital wing, I'm afraid. May not be very good company for you,” Dumbledore told him seriously, though his eyes were twinkling as if he could see through the story the elf was telling as complete fabrication. He was a wizard, after all.
“Thank you for the information, headmaster. If Harry Potter is ill, then Dobby must not waste time in going home to Mr. Malfoy. Please do give Mr. Potter Dobby's warmest wishes for recovery, he shall be back to visit soon.”
“You can be sure I will, Dobby. Safe travels,” Dumbledore said with a light wave, because even when you used magic to Apparate, things could go awry.
Dobby moved in the opposite direction of the old wizard, waited until his back was turned before making a beeline for the kitchen.
“Hello Dobby,” another elf called out in raised tones. “Here again, are you? Won't the Malfoys be suspicious?”
“Shhhh!” Dobby hissed as he put a long, bony finger to the purplish skin of his lips. “You must not speak to Dobby so loudly, Foz. Dobby has just run into Mr. Dumbledore, and the headmaster thinks he's here to pay a visit to Mr. Potter.”
“So Dobby has lied to the headmaster, and lied to Mr. Malfoy as to his whereabouts?”
Dobby hung his head. “Yes,” he muttered shamefully. “Dobby has already punished himself. Before leaving Malfoy Manor, he ironed his hands for ten whole minutes before throwing himself down the stairs.”
Foz looked on blankly, nodded slowly. He'd heard so many horrific stories of Dobby's self punishment, and of his masters themselves, that he had become desensitized to such recounts. “Dobby is putting much at risk by being here today, going in search of Delilah, even his own life.”
“Dobby knows this, he does. He will pay greatly, but that is the dark side of love.”
“Love?” Delilah had been afforded a break in her tasks, had found a moment in which to sneak away. Dobby's heart leapt at the sound of her voice, the feeling of her close to him. She had heard his declarations, more than likely noticed him earlier, too.
“Yes, love,” Dobby affirmed, with his watery eyes bulging even more than normal and a smile unnatural for an elf causing him to use muscles he didn't know he had. “Our fate is at the hands of our masters, but Dobby's heart belongs to only one.”
“What does love mean to Dobby?” Delilah asked him, batting long eyelashes. Dobby would always think she was as pretty an elf as there could be, perhaps the prettiest one in all the Wizarding World.
He thought for a moment.
“To Dobby, his master is the dark side of what love is. Hogwarts is the light. It gave him friends, others like himself. It was here Dobby met Harry Potter. It was in this very kitchen Dobby fell in love with Delilah.”
As he looked up, a lone tear trickled down Delilah's cheek. “You,” he told her after reaching out to wipe it away. “You are what love is to Dobby. The dark side is worth it, for so much light." |
d01f355eebf14ec889582911f9250320 | ['91dcd592d8c84eaf8c10d839bc90eb79'] |
1. Chapter 1
He noticed it yesterday but didn’t think anything of it. Why would someone make a stupid move like that in chess that’s one of the biggest mistakes he thinks to himself as he contemplates on weather to join in on the game or not with the mystery contestant. After a few seconds of thinking graham makes a bold move and decides to join in moving one of his chess pieces in unison to the one opposite him, two can play at that game he thinks to himself as he walks away all smug but he is determined to find out who it is.
Edging around the corner rhona spots graham moving his piece and smiles to herself as she continues to examine Kim’s horses. This could be fun she thinks to herself as she laughs about her cunning plan. As she sets her bag on her shoulder and begins to walk away from home farm she spots graham staring through the window and decides to mimic his 007 stance and she calls it however she does find it quite sexy if she is honest with herself, this earns her a side smile and a wink from graham which sends her stomach wild as she heads back to the vets.
After watching rhona walk down the path or jog should he say with them blushing cheeks graham smiles to himself and finds himself staring at the chessboard who could it be he thinks to himself as he examines the board. All off a sudden like a flash of light an idea springs to mind the cctv cameras he laughs to himself because he know he has the mystery contestant right where he wants them, heading back to his office and settling in his chair he begins the search for the big question mark that is hanging in the air and as if just by magic he catches the culprit. Stopping the cctv on her face and zooming in he smiles to himself when the pixels become a lot clearer revealing the face of the blushing vet “oh rhona goskirk it is on” he sniggers to himself.
Not knowing about the discovery that graham has just made rhona makes her way back into the village. Closing up the vets she heads to her cottage trying to get graham out of her mind this is insane she thinks to herself as she opens the front door and crashes onto the sofa.as she sits there and drifts off into her land off graham she falls into a deep sleep.
2. Caught In The Act
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Graham confronts rhona but what comes next he wasn’t expecting.
As Saturday rolls up graham thinks today is the day to pounce as Kim has told him rhona will be in the stables today taking care of her horses whilst she is out on business. After Kim disappears out of town for her business trip graham hides himself behind the island in the middle of the kitchen with full view of the chessboard in the living room, just as he thought she wasn’t coming the front door creaks open and in slithers rhona making a B-line straight for the chessboard. Graham laughs to himself and he makes his way to the living room door making sure not to make a sound and coming to a stop right behind rhona. “Not so good at this are you” he says as he watched rhona jump out of her skin giving him a small smile which tugged at the sides of his mouth.
Unable to concentrate on anything but the tall man in her eyeline rhona looks down at the floor and chuckles “ok you got me now what are you going to do with me” she spits out with an enormous amount of lust threatening to expose itself. She sees the darkness begin to grow in Graham’s eyes as he takes a step closer to rhona making it hard for her to even breathe let alone think, he places a finger underneath her chin forcing her eyes to fall onto his “well at the moment super vet I only have one thing on my mind” he slips a hand onto her waist and pulls her closer. Rhona smiles “enlighten me then” she growls back as she leans up to kiss his mouth slowly but passionately.
As graham begins to deepen the kiss he is displeased when he feels rhona slip out of his hands “to be continued baby” she says as she walks towards the front door and slaps Graham’s arse on the way out which leaves him rather amused but wanting more, what game is she playing graham thinks trying to calm himself down after the wave of passion that had flown through his body, he will get her back for this and he will get his way he thinks as he swans off to bed.
After leaving the house rhona is amazed with herself for sticking to her guns she will make him wait a little longer she thinks to herself as she struts her way back into the village where she heads home for a late night bottle of wine to calm herself down. However deep down rhona wishes she had stayed she enjoyed that crazy rollercoaster of an afternoon she had just had and had especially enjoyed the ending to her night which she had been thinking about for a while and was still in shock because it had just happened and she walk away. What am I doing she thinks to herself she needs to rest but who says they cannot continue it in the morning.
Graham lays there completely still in bed whilst thinking about the local vet who may have just completely sealed the deal for him I mean he has to have her now after already being left in the middle of the foyer body screaming out for more as she slapped his arse playfully and walked away, graham nearly had the strength the let her go he wanted to keep her there and remind her why she kissed him in the first place. Whilst away in his thoughts graham is pulled back to the real world by his phone coming to life, he picks it up praying for it to be an unknown number so that he can flirt some more but to his surprise it is Kim so he scrambles to the edge of the bed and picks up the phone “Kim how can I help you” he says in a groggy voice a loud voice replies “graham good your awake I was just calling to let you know I will be out of the village for a few weeks I’m taking a trip to Dubai to tie up some loose ends I’m sure you will be able to cope without me won’t you?” With a smile plastered across his face as he thinks of the things he could get up to that week with a certain vet he quickly obliges “of course I can don’t worry about it enjoy your time away goodbye Kim” bouncing up and down on the bed like a teenager he decides to make his first move with Rhona. He turns his head to the clock it’s 3:30 in the morning perfect he thinks as he stubbles out of bed and throws on a polo and some chinos something he rarely ever wears and heads out to the car. He pulls up quietly outside of rhonas to ensure he doesn’t wake her and heads for the door, he slips a small piece of paper through the letter box and is startled when he sees the landing light come on so he shoots back to the car and begins his drive back up to home farm.
Startled awake by the sound of her letter box rhona shoots out of bed and down to the front door to find a small piece of paper lying on the door mat she picks it’s up to examine it and finds a small note with a number attached it reads ‘just incase you get lonely. 007 x’ now to rhonas excitement she skips back up to bed and grabs her phone sending a message to the number ‘thank you for stopping by 007 just wish you would have knocked so we could pick up where we left off I will make sure to pop by and check on you tomorrow must be getting lonely in that big house all on your own. The local vet x’ and with a smile on her face she sends the message and waits patiently for a reply which comes sooner rather than later and reads ‘well local vet I will be very lonely by the time Kim gets back from Dubai in a couple of weeks maybe you would care to join me up here for dinner tonight and then maybe we can continue on from yesterday. Consider it and I will await your reply. 007 x’ . At this point rhonas face is the colour of a beetroot but she knows exactly what to reply to that and with Kim gone for a couple of weeks this could work out just fine for the pair. sending back a quick confirmation of her arrival this evening she quickly shuts off her phone and goes back to sleep.
Excited for this evening graham already sets his outfit out for the night and after all of the excitement feels himself drifting back off to sleep and thinking of the vet and the very spontaneous night ahead of them.
**Author's Note:**
> I know it’s rubbish but please make sure to leave a comment | 2d6ab537c1b44a44889484e376eb0311 | ['91dcd592d8c84eaf8c10d839bc90eb79'] | I’m sorry
“Come on darling please you know I never meant it” Eamonn shouts as Ruth slams the living room door in his face. He knows he shouldn’t have said it he thinks as he walks into the dark sitting room and places himself on his recliner chair, he has spent more time in here than he has with his wife lately and it’s his own doing due to the silly comments he makes towards the women on the show. I mean I know she is a jealous woman he thinks as he lies back in his chair but it was only a bit of harmless fun.
After slamming the door Ruth stamps her way towards the sofa and perches on the edge raging about what had just happened. How could he do this he knows I am a jealous woman she thinks as she lets her body relax into the sofa but he does it anyway, she picks up the remote and turns on the television to try and drown out the noise of Eamonn cursing at himself for making her feel like she did, she knows that if she walks into that sitting room and cries on him he has won so she sits back and the tears begin to fall as she goes through the memories of today in her mind.
Eamonn could feel any worse as he sits there in the dark starring at the ceiling, until he hears the soft sobs coming from the living room and that’s when he realises it’s time to fix this. He gets up out of his chair and heads for the kitchen where he then begins to make Ruth a cup of tea and some toast for her supper trying tremendously hard not to burn it. Once it is ready Eamonn knocks on the living room door and slowly edges his way with the tea and toast in hand, placing it on the table he takes one look at his wife and even though his heart is breaking into the leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. Once the door is completely shut Eamonn throws on a pair of shoes and grabs the keys to there car and head for the shops, once he gets there he grabs a bunch of red roses, some chocolates and finally one of Ruth favourite romantic comedies ‘just go with it’ and heads for the checkout.
Ruth sits there eating her toast and drinking her tea worrying where Eamonn has gone as he left such a long time ago. After putting her plate and mug in the sink she makes her way back to the living room and just as she sits down the front door swings open. After a sigh of relief that Eamonn hadn’t left for good Ruth sits back and pretends she wasn’t thinking about him the whole time he was gone , she hears Eamonn kick off his shoes and tip toe towards the living room and as the door opens a huge bunch of roses pops through the gap and Ruth smiles knowing she has won this time. She stands up and prances towards the door and opens the door fully to confront her husband who is stood in the doorway looking very apologetic, taking the roses and Eamonn’s hand Ruth leads them towards the couch and they both sit down. Ruth opens her mouth to speak but is shocked when Eamonn puts a finger on her lips to silence her and says “ Ruth I am sorry for the way I treated you today and I don’t want you to think that I have eyes for any other woman than you because I really don’t and the only woman I need in my life now and forever will be you and I know it’s probably to late to repair the damage that I have created but I love you and I am going to try” as he finishes he looks towards his wife where she is smiling up at him she takes his face between her hands and says “I love you too you idiot now don’t do it again” and with that said she kisses him passionately.
Once they had finished making up Eamonn brought Ruth her chocolates and put her favourite film into the DVD player, he sank into the sofa Ruth between his legs and his arms wrapped around her and pressed play. They say there for the duration of the film and when the titles started running Ruth turned her head up and kissed Eamonn on the chin. She sat up and span in his arms to straddle him and spoke gently into his ear “how about you make it up to me properly ay” biting his earlobe she heard a small groan come from Eamonn’s throat.
He chased Ruth up the stairs trying to catch her feet as she screamed on her way up and jumped on the bed as he did too. Tackling her down onto the mattress and tickling her frantically Ruth couldn’t help but laugh and plead “Eamonn stop it please , no don’t do it aaaaaaa” . He looks down at her with the biggest smile on his face as his eyes turn dark and his hand slides up her thigh.
They wake up tangled up in each other’s bodies and happy “your forgiven now” Ruth exclaims with a laugh and Eamonn just smiles up at her and says “well thank god for that”. |
aa9ea64f3a084901adce5e9b36528c23 | ['91f364c79e964fef9df4a28ffb9ec41c'] | Caring for Fry
**Author's Note:**
> Written before the movies n final seasons
"For the last time Fry, no" shouted Leela as she got off the Planet Express Ship.
"C'mon Leela, every time I ask you on a date you always say no," whined Fry fallowing her.
Leela turns to him. "That's because you're immature and childish Fry," she spoke.
"Am not," he yells at her stomping his foot.
Leela rolls her eye and sighs, walking away.
"Don't worry, Meatbag. I'm sure you can get some girl to like you," commented Bender slapping Fry on the shoulder.
"You think so Bender?" Fry asked smiling.
"No," laughs Bender as he sits down on the couch.
Fry sighs sitting down as well. What else is new?
Professor Fansworth enters the room. "Good news everyone, I've invented something that'll help people retrieve lost memories." he said with cheer. "But I'll need a test subject to see what affects it has."
"Why not Zoidberg?" asked Hermes.
"Can't find him anywhere besides this time I need a human test subject," replies the Professor.
Bender zaps Fry with a bit of static causing Fry to jump to his feet.
"Thank you for volunteering, Fry" said Fansworth in delight.
"Huh?" Fry cocks his head confused.
***In the Professor's lab***
"This device will be able to retrieve anyone's memories even from infancy," he spoke holding up a ray gun.
"Are you sure this is safe Professor?" asked Leela.
"Oh my yes it's quite safe," he said pulling on a pair of goggles and lifts the ray gun "Now hold still, Fry."
He charges up the ray and fires it, knocking Fry hard into the wall.
"Fry," cries Leela rushing to his side then glares at the professor.
"Oh my, I must have used too much force," laughs Fansworth.
Leela growls as she lifts Fry into her arms and carries him to the couch, laying him down.
Fry slightly opens his eyes and looks a Leela before passing out.
_Is she my mommy?_ | b4c77bd79017492699f12be14713a465 | ['91f364c79e964fef9df4a28ffb9ec41c'] | Bringing Up Dan
The eerie silence of the Ghost Zone was enough to send shivers up anyone spine, the only sound that the Master of Time could hear was the slow ticking of the clocks in his lair. He sighed, everyday it was the same routine for him and it was hard to concentrate with the Observers breathing (if they could) down his neck.
He shifted into his child-like form and floated over to a portal, as he watched a raven haired teenage boy, with sky-blue eyes wearing a whit t-shirt, blue jeans and red sneakers, hanging out with his two friends. His name was Danny Fenton also known as Danny Phantom, a young half-human half-ghost hybrid known as a halfa. One of his friends was an African-American boy wearing green cargo pants, a yellow shirt, brown boots and a red burnet with glasses holding a PDA, his name was Tucker Foley. His other friend was a girl with jet-black hair, amethyst eyes wearing a black tank top, black skirt and black combat boots, her name was Samantha Manson or as she preferred to be called Sam. Clockwork smiled, the boy was coming along well.
Suddenly he heard a rattle of metal behind him. He shifted into his adult form as he turned to see the thermos that held Dan Phantom, Danny alternate evil future self, who imprisoned in the thermos by the young halfa himself. The thermos shook violently, jumping all over the place until it burst into pieces releasing Dan Phantom in front of him.
“Finally I am free of that wretched prison,” he yelled, turning to Clockwork.
“Not so fast Dan,” the Master of Time cried as he shot a powerful energy blast as Dan, knocking him into the wall of the lair.
“You’ll pay for that, Clockwork” Dan roared as he tried to power up a strong energy beam, but nothing happened. “ What did you do?” he demanded.
“That blast I shot weakened your power but didn’t fully neutralize them,” he explained. “Now, what to do with you?” the Time Master wondered.
Clockwork looked at the portal that showed Danny and his friends, then he looked at another portal that showed a white-haired man in a business suit named Vlad Masters, who was another halfa known as Vlad Plasmius.
“They’re both going to hate me for this, but what other choice do I have?” he sighed as he raised his staff and teleported the two halfas to his lair. “ It’s high time you were reunited with your _parents_ Daniel.” |
e5836db0cbda4c3381a92e99e69355b5 | ['91fef85176864c01b27d6037ea1d2f3b'] | “Oh.” Rafael kicks himself. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Sonny looks pleased. He shifts a little—he's getting hard. Rafael rests his cheek against Sonny’s shoulder and takes a long, slow breath. “You’re cute,” Sonny murmurs.
It’s a casual, offhand remark, but it makes Rafael’s cheeks heat. He feels Sonny stroke his head, then his back. He kisses Sonny right in the dip at the base of his neck, then kisses down Sonny’s sternum, and at the spot below his ribcage. Sonny’s skin is so soft beneath his lips. Rafael gives his stomach a lick, and Sonny whispers his name.
Rafael sits up and disentangles from the bedsheets. He throws them towards the foot of the bed so that they're both blessedly naked in the sunlight. It's warm in his room, and feeling warmer by the second. Sonny gives him an appreciative glance-over.
“See something you like?” Rafael asks, feeling smug.
“Fuck yeah,” Sonny says. He tries to sit up, but Rafael puts a hand on his chest to prevent him. Sonny groans. “You're killing me here.”
Rafael smirks. He puts his hands on Sonny’s waist and strokes down his narrow hips. Sonny’s cock twitches hopefully, but Rafael ignores it. Sonny gives another groan.
Rafael shifts down and presses the side of his face against Sonny’s inner thigh. He kisses the sensitive skin, mouthing messily up and down either thigh.
“You’re such a tease,” Sonny moans.
Rafael laughs. He sits back up and runs his hands along Sonny’s legs. Rafael has been obsessed with them since day one. When Sonny wears suits that are fitted just right, Rafael has to look away. It’s too easy to think about those legs wrapped around his waist or hooked over his shoulders. Tight on his hips, pulling him closer. Rafael blinks to clear his mind.
“All the guys I’ve dated have been into my legs,” Sonny says, with a knowing grin. “None of my girlfriends ever seemed to care—they just liked that I was tall, but the guys always—”
“Don’t talk about your former lovers while you’re in bed with me.”
“Why, you feeling jealous?” Sonny kicks Rafael lightly. Rafael purses his lips. “Holy shit, you are jealous!” Sonny gives an honest-to-god giggle, and Rafael burns with embarrassment. “Aww, Raf. You know you’re not my first.”
Rafael rolls his eyes. “Of course not.”
“Can I say though: you’re definitely the best.”
“Don’t placate me.”
“I mean it!” Sonny’s face is amused, but his eyes are genuine. He squeezes Rafael between his knees.
“Seriously, you’re so sweet and attentive. I thought you’d be more—I dunno, _domineering_ in bed? But you’re a big softie. You just make me feel good, you know?”
Rafael’s heartbeat flutters. He can’t meet Sonny’s eyes, so he looks down at his knees, instead. He runs his fingers along Sonny’s calf, then circles his ankle.
“It’s true,” Sonny murmurs.
Rafael shakes his head. He drags both hands up Sonny's legs and presses his thumbs against the soft indentation where thighs meet torso. Sonny’s breath hitches.
“Speaking of making you feel good,” Rafael says. He takes Sonny’s cock in his palm, stroking slowly and smiling when Sonny whispers “yes.” Sonny feels gorgeous—a hot, solid weight. Rafael will never get over this. The look of him—the knit of Sonny’s eyebrows and the way his plush lips fall open.
“You’re beautiful,” Rafael whispers.
“Back atcha,” Sonny gasps.
Rafael snorts. He twists his hand, causing Sonny to moan, then releases him.
“You know,” Sonny says, opening his eyes. “You’re all I can think about when I jerk off. You’ve ruined me, Raf.”
Rafael bites his lip. Heat rolls through him like thunder in a storm, and he shifts down on the bed so he can comfortably lie on his stomach. Sonny’s legs open for him.
“What exactly do you think about?” Rafael asks.
“Mmm...sucking you off. Fucking you. You fucking me too, ‘cause I gotta have some variety.”
Rafael kisses the tip of Sonny’s cock.
“God, Rafael—”
“What else? Give me specifics.” Rafael takes Sonny into his mouth, suppressing a smile at the deep groan Sonny gives.
“Uh, I think—I think of—” Sonny’s stutters are interrupted by quick gasps of breath. “I think of watching you in court. Sitting in the back and getting so— _God_ Raf—so fucking hard just seeing you. The way you dominate the room. Your confidence is so hot.”
Rafael pulls off with a pop. “I’m good at what I do,” he says, smirking.
“Yeah, yeah you are.” Sonny whimpers as Rafael starts sucking him again. “Fuck, you’re so good. So, so good.”
Rafael closes his eyes and enjoys the heavy velvet taste of him. Sonny has been reduced to mindless babbling. His hands are everywhere—in Rafael's hair, on his shoulders, on his neck. Rafael shifts so he can grind against the mattress, but he’s mostly focused on Sonny. The words falling out of his mouth, the tug of his hands in Rafael's hair, the tightening of his muscles as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. When Rafael can tell that Sonny's on the edge, he pulls away.
“Fuck, don't stop!”
Rafael laughs under his breath. He crawls across Sonny to reach the nightstand. Sonny takes the opportunity to layer kisses over his chest.
“Shit,” Rafael mutters, picking up an empty plastic bottle. “Remember last night, when we finished off all my lube?”
“Don't care,” Sonny says, scraping his teeth across Rafael's collarbone. “Fucking spit in your hand if you have to, I can take it.”
“No, that's disgusting!”
“No more disgusting than your saliva all over my dick.”
Rafael doesn’t have a response to that. He switches to plan b, grabbing a bottle of lotion with a convenient pump top and squirting some into his hand. He reaches down between them and grips both their cocks in one palm.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Sonny sighs. “That’s real good.” | 2dcd85174c764d5fb44053e352fef1c7 | ['91fef85176864c01b27d6037ea1d2f3b'] | The thicket was peaceful and quiet in the early morning sunlight. The trees grew tall and strong, despite the parasitic mistletoe that was growing rampant among their branches. John wandered aimlessly for a bit, but found that he kept getting distracted from his mission. He was following an unusual-looking bird when, completely by chance, he looked up to find a large oak tree with a red-rimmed hole in the trunk.
“You found it.”
John turned around to find Sherlock walking towards him. He glanced up at the tree.
“Don’t know if it was me so much as the bird I was following,” he said. He peered at the hole in the tree-trunk. It was deep and dark. He could just see the slimy top of the heart from where it rested inside.
Without thinking, John reached into the hole and pulled out the heart with his bare hand. It slipped free from his grasp at the last second and he fumbled, dropped it in the grass, and picked it back up again. He brushed away a dead leaf, sheepishly.
“I probably shouldn’t have touched it,” he said, wiping his bloody hand on his jacket. “I just contaminated your crime scene.” He looked up at Sherlock, who was staring back at him with a blank expression. “Um. Sherlock?”
“I love you.”
John was stunned for a moment, then smiled. He looked down at the heart, feeling suddenly flustered. He gave a soft chuckle, then glanced up at the mistletoe growing on the branch overhead and kissed Sherlock gently on the mouth.
“Let’s go bring this back to Lestrade, okay?” he asked. Sherlock nodded, and they headed back towards the crime scene.
8. Making Snowmen
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Day eight: Making snowmen
>
> Prompts are from gaytectives' LINK on tumblr.
* * *
* * *
9. Wearing Ugly Christmas Jumpers
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Day nine: wearing ugly Christmas jumpers
>
> Prompts are from gaytectives' LINK on tumblr.
John knew by now that Harry was mocking him. Over the years, her gifts of Christmas jumpers had been getting progressively uglier. Last year’s atrocity had been just on the verge of unwearable, though John had worn it once when he met his sister for lunch. The look on Harry’s face had made it clear: she definitely was not expecting him to go out in public dressed like that.
Sherlock had suggested this to him as John walked out the door, and when John came home, he was a bit reluctant to admit that Sherlock had been right. Sherlock lured him over to the sofa with the curl of a finger.
“You really have to take that off,” he murmured. John frowned down at him as Sherlock toyed with the hem of the jumper. "I told you she was making fun of you."
John rolled his eyes. "Yes, I had forgotten that you are more fluent than I in sarcasm."
Sherlock smirked and pulled the ends of John's shirt from his trousers with one hand. "You hold your own," he said. He slid his hand under both shirt and jumper and slid it up John's chest. John bit back a smile.
"Really?" he asked. "Ugly Christmas jumpers turn you on?"
"Depends on who's wearing them."
John wasn't sure why Sherlock kept a penknife hidden under the sofa cushion, but an hour later, the jumper was in shreds, and John found he just didn't care anymore.
10. Baking Holiday Treats
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Day ten: baking holiday treats
>
> Prompts are from gaytectives' LINK on tumblr.
There was one year (and only one year) when John decided to try his hand at baking cookies. He quickly learned that he knew nothing about baking. Thankfully, it seemed that Sherlock knew rather a lot.
“You can’t skip the honey,” he said, peering across the table at the recipe John had printed out. “If you skip the honey, you won’t have an acid to react with the sodium bicarbonate.”
“Excuse me?”
“The baking soda. The cookies won’t rise, and they’ll come out tasting bitter.”
John erased where he had scratched out the word “honey” on the recipe, then started sifting through the cupboard to find some.
Sherlock peeked at the recipe again. “There’s brown sugar behind the jar of fingernails.”
“We have brown sugar?”
“I just said. Behind the jar of fingernails.”
John glanced up at the top shelf, where both fingernails and apparently brown sugar were kept.
“It’s in the back,” said Sherlock. “You’ll need a chair to reach it. Even I can’t reach it without a chair.”
John sighed. “It’s too much of a hassle,” he said. “I’ll just substitute it with white.”
“You can’t just substitute it with white. They have different hygroscopic properties. The cookies will come out dry.”
John rolled his eyes and pulled over a chair to reach into the far recesses of the top shelf. When all of the dry ingredients were gathered, he glanced at the recipe again and opened the refrigerator.
Sherlock was pretending to be reading a book, but wasn’t pretending very convincingly. John could almost feel Sherlock’s eyes staring holes into the back of his head. He gathered a few ingredients, and shut the refrigerator, turning around to be faced with Sherlock’s disdainful frown.
“Don’t use that, what are you doing?” Sherlock asked.
John looked down at the tub of buttery spread he held in one hand. “It’s...it’s reduced fat. It’ll make healthier cookies.”
“It will make bland cookies. That spread is probably more than half water. The fat in butter is essential to the chemical process.”
John gave Sherlock a long, hard glare. Sherlock looked back down at his book.
\--- |
aca133a527264742bd21793ee1453cc7 | ['91ffd4c6bc594684a405c3541c3b00b0'] | **Author's Note:**
> I wanted to post this before Christmas, so I'm a little late. But better than never! Enjoy XD
The Servamps, their Eves, and Subclasses have a Christmas party, and just as one would suspect, things turn out a little crazy. Mahiru, the host of course, tries to play mother hen and keep everyone in order. Or at least makes sure no one gets stabbed or bitten.
Tsubaki and his Subclass were reluctantly invited, thanks to Mahiru's "No Vampire Left Behind" rule. He tries to stay on the sidelines and not cause any trouble for once, and he wants to repay Mahiru for all he's done for him.
Tsubaki stands alone in the hallway and beckons Mahiru over once he sees him. Mahiru comes over asking what's going on.
"Mistletoe," he points, "I've never seen it in real life."
Looking up, Mahiru squints, "Really? Wait a second… I don't remember putting that up."
Pulling his sleeve covered hand up to his mouth, Tsubaki chuckles. "Strange… But you do know what this means, don't you?"
Mahiru tilts his head like a puppy. "What you mean?" It only took a second later for him to blush in realization. "B-but only couples do that!"
"Hahaha, no that's not how it works. The rule is, whoever stands underneath the mistletoe must share a kiss. That would be you," he taps Mahiru's nose, "and me."
"T-that's… but…"
Tsubaki's lips curl up slightly, enjoying Mahiru's uncommon expression. "It's just a kiss. You've done it before, haven't you?"
The color in Mahiru's cheeks spreads to the rest of his face. His lips don't even part, as his brain seems to be melting.
"Or you haven't…" Tsubaki comes to understand. His smirk turns into an endearing smile at Mahiru's innocence. "Well, that alright. I mean it's just an ancient tradition, who follows rules anyway."
Mahiru perks up, blindly being sucked into the trap. "I always follow the rules! Watch me!"
He stands up on his tippy toes and pulls Tsubaki down by his shirt collar. Not giving himself time to hesitate, he quickly pushes his lips to Tsubaki's. And in the next second he's back on two feet, gazing at the floor like a portal had just opened up, ready to swallow him.
Tsubaki barely blinked before the moment was over. Slightly feeling disappointed it was so short, he ruffled Mahiru's hair. "See? Wasn't that hard."
"Mm." He wasn't ready to form words for Tsubaki yet, so he started shuffling off when he was stopped midway.
"Mahiru," Tsubaki's hand gently squeezed his shoulder, "thank you for everything." It was the most sincere he's ever been in his life.
With a quick nod and still blushing smile, Mahiru was off to make sure another war hadn't started with the others. | 98142c08440a468985c5bd9596bfb522 | ['91ffd4c6bc594684a405c3541c3b00b0'] | Winter Cup Blues
**H** e fixes himself up and is just about to head back to everyone, when none other than Akashi Seijuro crosses his path. He congratulates him on their victory, but Furihata keeps his head lowered so he can't see his tear-stricken face. Though Akashi can tell anyway, and asks why he's moping around by himself and not celebrating with his team. Furihata doesn't know why, but he begins spilling out all of his feelings to him.
"I know I didn't do anything. I mean what could I do? I'm not like Kagami who can jump high, or Hyuga who can shoot from far back. I couldn't even stand when facing you." His voice began to crack and he thought of crying all over again. With his hands covering his face in shame, he whispered harshly, "I'm pathetic...!"
All the while, Akashi doesn't interrupt and listens patiently, almost sympathetically.
Furihata wipes away the tears that have once again stained his face with red, moist lines. "Sorry... it's not that I'm not happy, because I am. I just wish that I could've been useful."
Akashi takes this as his cue to intervene. "You think because you're not up to the standards of people around you, that makes you worthless? That's laughable," he snidely chuckles.
Taken aback, Furihata looked into Akashi's unwavering eyes, wondering if he was laughing at him, or if it was something else...
"Basketball is a team sport. Every player on and off the court changes the course of the game. Every single person tips the balance between winning and losing."
Furihata listened as if in a trance. His voice was so powerful it commanded your attention. But at the same time, it was smooth and calmed his racing heart.
Akashi's eyes never strayed from Furihata's, and likewise Furihata couldn't even will his eyes to look elsewhere. "You say you did nothing? Were you not on the same court as your teammates and I? Did you feel that your coach had made the wrong decision putting you in the game?"
His eyes narrowed, not threateningly, but softly. "Even against you're shaking knees and aching chest, you stood tall against me in the littlest of hope that you could make a difference. And although I admit you were a poor match against me, you brought hope to your teammates when it was draining out."
It was likely that his mouth was hanging wide open, and he now felt like crying for a new reason. Who would have thought the person he was shivering in fear of an hour ago, was now telling him that he was a worthy person.
He could tell Akashi was finishing up and paid more attention than ever. "Even if you never got to play in this game, you have supported your teammates from the start, and without that they couldn't have gotten as far as they have. You don't have to be great to be worthy, just be you, Furihata Kouki."
Furihata Kouki... he knew his name! He didn't know why it made him so happy. Maybe because he figured he was just another opponent to crush underfoot. But he knew him, and he said he was worthy!
He supposed it was alright to talk now, and he just couldn't hold in his excitement any longer. "Y-Y-Yes, Akashi-san!
A genuine smile formed on Akashi's face for the first time. He looked like a prince, or a god.
"Akashi is fine, I'm not your senpai after all."
"Got it. A-Akashi!" Furihata's stuttered seemed unfixable when talking to him, but it was for a good reason this time.
With a slight chuckle, Akashi gently placed his hand on Furihata's shoulder. "Well then, I think it's time you rejoined your team, and I, mine."
Just when Furihata thought he wouldn't get to say anymore, Akashi stopped in his tracks and looked back.
"It seems that you've grown braver since our first meeting." Thinking back, he couldn't recall when that was.
Akashi caught on. "You were Kuroko's tag along to our Teiko only meeting."
Right! How could he forget, he tried to stab Kagami with scissors. That sent a little cold vibe down Furihata's back.
The smile revived. "Until next time, Furihata Kouki." The way his name rolled off his tongue made it hard to swallow. It wasn't exactly a bad feeling, but he thought there was a hint of foreshadowing in his words.
Akashi Seijuro; someone to be feared and revered. |
52a833f1f02e4bc8b9a6a8baedab266b | ['9200a2e03f194f48b7e0dbbe0041db0d'] | “Fucking hell, Kels. Nothing!” Nick pushed his laptop off his lap and shut it. “Is this really all this because of a couple of missed calls?”
“Fuck the calls,” Kelly growled. “This is about whatever the hell has been going on with you the last few weeks. The calls were just the last straw.”
Nick’s stomach plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know the first thing people say when someone brings up something they don’t want to admit?” Kelly asked, one eyebrow raised. “‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’”
“That doesn’t make it bullshit, Kelly!”
Eyes narrow, Kelly muttered something under his breath that Kelly couldn’t catch. “I’m talking about this Jekyll and Hyde shit you’ve been pulling!”
Nick sputtered, meaningless noises that he couldn’t force into words. “That’s not fair,” he finally managed to spit out.
“No. You’re right. It’s not.”
Somehow Nick didn’t think they were talking about the same thing.
“You know, in the beginning I thought it was just how you were. Didn’t like being touched in public.” Kelly lifted one hand and shrugged. “Whatever. People have their quirks and I was willing to go with it if it makes you happy.”
“What are you—”
Kelly glared and barreled right over him. “But then I noticed that you’re not like that with Ty. Or Zane. Or, fuck, just about _anyone else_ and I started thinking you were being careful. Because it wasn’t like you had a problem touching me when we were alone, right? So it couldn’t be me.”
“I was just—”
“That’s where things got weirder. Because I tried to ease into it. Get close enough to just brush your hand and you know what you did?” Kelly planted his hands on his hips and Nick—wisely for once—held his tongue. “You fucking ran away, O’Flaherty! You ran away and then you cancelled plans and if this was just some experiment to turn the straight boy I’m going to knock you out and hang you by your ankles off the roof of the dorm I swear to fucking god!”
Kelly stood there like an avenging angel and all Nick could do was gape helplessly as the world crashed around him. Everything he’d thought about the last few weeks had obviously been wrong, but how the hell could he explain that to Kelly and would it even matter? Kelly looked _pissed_ and rightfully so if everything he’d said was true.
Nick expected more yelling. That wasn’t what he got. The longer they stared at each other, the more the anger bled from Kelly’s face along with every drop of color.
“God dammit, Irish.” Kelly’s voice cracked and he dug the palm of his hand into the space between his eyes. “You’re the one who started this. _You_ did. If you’d decided I wasn’t worth being seen in public with you should have fucking told me so. I expected better than this from you.”
Kelly turned away. Kelly was leaving. Kelly was _leaving_. _Kelly_ was leaving! Nick watched him take the first step and he knew, somehow knew with absolute certainty, that if he left Kelly walk out the door right now he’d never get to touch him again.
The thought acted like a catapult.
Nick shot out of bed and grabbed Kelly around the shoulders, spinning him around and holding him so tight he wasn’t sure if Kelly would be able to breathe.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not ashamed of you, not at all, but I was trying to help, trying to give you time to adjust and maybe I went about it the wrong way but I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to and please just give me a chance to make it up to you because I can’t—”
“Nick?”
“Please, I’m sorry, Kels! I didn’t mean to—”
“Nick! Your Boston is coming out and I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
Clamping his mouth shut and closing his eyes, Nick took a deep breath, still holding Kelly tight, and tried again.
“I was trying to give you time to adjust to everything, Kels. I didn’t want to force you out of the closet so I thought that if I let you set the pace in public it’d be easier.”
Kelly huffed and pushed Nick away. “How the fuck does that equal _running away_ , you asshole?”
“Not touching you was driving me crazy, Kels! And when you did that I knew I had to leave or I was gonna grab you and slam you against the wall right there.”
A little of the light came back in Kelly’s eyes. “That would’ve caused a scene.”
“Exactly.”
Kelly smirked. “Might’ve been fun.”
Nick groaned and hauled Kelly back into his arms. “I’m sorry about running. I thought I was being thoughtful.”
“Okay, well, Nicko?”
“Yeah, Kels?”
“Next time think about telling me what the hell is going through that Irish brain of yours.”
Nick laughed, a helpless, breathless chuckle he couldn’t contain. “Promise.”
“Oblivious bastard,” Kelly muttered. But Nick could feel Kelly smiling against his neck.
“Sometimes, yeah.” Nick swallowed and forced himself to keep talking. “But I meant what I said Kelly.”
“Which part? Because you said some good things and some shit I still want to hit you for.”
“The part about not forcing you into anything you’re not comfortable with. I can wait, Kels. As long—”
“You’re not really gonna start this shit again, are you?” Kelly groaned. “I thought we covered this.”
“It’s not the same. You think it’ll be easy, but it—”
“Oh my _god_!” Kelly pulled away too fast for Nick to grab him, but it didn’t matter. Kelly’s hand closed around Nick’s wrist and dragged him along. “Talking really does _nothing_ with you, does it?”
“What the hell, Kels?” Nick stumbled after Kelly until he stopped in the partially full lounge where some of the other guys from their floor were watching football.
“Hey, assholes!” | 337e249aa79949f0a8b721da12d7e9bc | ['9200a2e03f194f48b7e0dbbe0041db0d'] | Nick glanced up, that careful consideration back in his eyes. Like he was trying to decide if Kelly actually wanted to know or was just asking because that’s what people did when they got stuck talking to strangers. Kelly really did want to know, though. There was something interesting about this quiet, somewhat reclusive, insomniac who did his laundry in the dead of the night.
“I’m a history major with a concentration on America pre-1900.”
“Yeah? I might have to bribe you into proofing my paper later this semester. I get the concepts of that stuff, but the intricacies and the details and the dates and the names?” Kelly shook his head. “I cannot figure out how to keep that shit straight to save my own life.”
Nick’s head tilted slightly and he nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure. I won’t write it for you or anything, but I can check it when you’re done.”
“Write it for me?” Kelly grimaced. “People actually ask you to do that shit?”
“You saying you wouldn’t?”
That careful consideration was back in Nick’s green eyes as Kelly shook his head. “Nah. I never understood that. What’s the point in not figuring out how to do it yourself? Not saying I’ve never cheated, but you don’t bring someone else into that. That’s just messed up.”
Nick seemed to relax a little bit. “Yeah, well, I’ve noticed that most people don’t really have much of a moral compass.”
“Tell me about it,” Kelly muttered. When Nick looked at him with silent questions in his eyes, Kelly shrugged. “I spent a bunch of years in the foster system after my parents died. My own experiences were fine—I was fucking lucky, man—but I met enough people to know that’s not always the case. There are some messed up people out there.
“Well, it could’ve—” Nick shut his mouth so fast Kelly heard his teeth clack. “I’m sorry you had to live through that.”
“Thanks, I guess, but it’s fine.” Kelly slid his hands into his pockets and smiled. “Everyone’s got a tragedy, man. Some people’s are just closer to the surface than others. No, wait. I like the skeletons analogy better. Everyone’s got skeletons in their closet, but some closets are deeper than others.”
Nick stared at Kelly like he was suddenly talking in Farsi. The silence went on so long that Kelly felt himself blushing—something he swore he hadn’t done in the last five years.
“Never mind. My mouth runs faster than my brain sometimes.” Kelly’s smile turned sheepish and apologetic. “Sorry.”
Nick ran his teeth over his bottom lip and tilted his head slightly, a kind of sideways nod, before lifting his headphones and turning his attention back to his book.
_Conversation over, I guess._
Kelly sighed and returned to roaming, running his hands over the ridges and dents of the machines and staring up at the water-stained ceiling, trying to pick out shapes in the weird discolorations. They were like fucked up clouds, kind of. God this was boring without someone to talk to. If he ever got stuck doing laundry at this hour again, he’d have to bring a book with him like Nick had. Or his laptop so he could watch a DVD. Or something. Anything.
He remembered the paperback of Jane Austen finally and decided why not. He’d never read it before and it was better than circling the room again to stare at rust stains in ceiling tiles. Turning around, Kelly moved back toward the shelf along the wall closest to Nick.
Nick moved before Kelly got to the wall, hopping off the washing machine to grab his notebook off the shelf. He gave Kelly a suspicious look as he passed, one that Kelly purposefully ignored. Reaching up, he picked up the paperback and slowly retreated. Nick was obviously jumpy about that notebook, but all that did was pique Kelly’s curiosity. What could be weird enough that Nick wouldn’t want people seeing it but not so sensitive that he’d put it up on a shelf in a public place?
Figuring he was about as likely to get Nick to show him the notebook as he was to get an A in that history class of his this semester, Kelly paced the room and read. The book wasn’t as cheesy as he thought it was going to be. He kind of got lost in it after a while. Until a voice pulled him out.
“Do you ever stop moving?”
Kelly jumped but managed not to drop the book and lose his place. “I get bored easy.”
“Yeah. I noticed.” Nick shook his head. “Watchin’ you is making me dizzy.
Raising his eyebrows, Kelly stared across the room at the redhead. “Well stop watching then.”
Nick opened his mouth, but must’ve changed his mind because whatever he’d been about to say didn’t come out. He shook his head and muttered instead, “Never mind.”
“Are you always this grumpy?” Kelly asked, crossing his arms and watching Nick’s reaction carefully.
“I’m not grumpy.”
Kelly wrinkled his nose. “You kinda are.”
“It’s two in the morning!” Nick looked absolutely perplexed, like he wasn’t even sure why they were talking to each other.
“Yeah. What does that have to do with your grump?”
Nick sighed. “Whatever, kid.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m probably not much younger than you.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re not a kid,” Nick grumbled.
Then the timer on Nick’s dryer went off.
Kelly closed his lips on the argument he’d been about to make—that anyone who spent half of their childhood in foster care was _not_ a child anymore. Instead, he watched Nick jump from the washing machine and hastily pull all of his clothes from the dryer. His movements didn’t have the same careful caution that he’d seemed to carry with him earlier and Kelly’s stomach clenched with the realization that Nick was probably trying to get out of here as fast as possible.
Trying to get away from _Kelly_ as fast as possible. |
64d4b600956c48a3b0171e1c2eccd57c | ['9206aba99aa044ac80ad3a3d67199022'] | Stopping near the park, Gaster very carefully crouched, eyes scanning every inch of where he intended to be as various spiders skittered out of his way. Slowly getting on his knees and elbows, the spiders put aside the sign and brought the battery no larger than a die in front of the royal scientist. He turned it in place, pointing from the battery to the closest spider and made a motion of a door opening with the flat of his hand. The youngster seemed to understand well enough, skittering forward and tapping the latch that held the panel closed before skittering back again.
Gaster picked the battery back up in his hand, the other digging around in his pocket for a miniature light. The children clicked as they backed away at the sight of it, turning around and seeming to cover their faces. The clicking travelled to the older ones nearby, and Gaster could swear he could almost understand the grumbles and groans from those in attendance. He held up his light for a little, making sure everyone near by could see it before clicking it on.
Gripping it gently between his sharp teeth so it was pointed at the battery, he fished back into his pocket for a magnifying glass, holding it close to one eye as he tried to determine what was wrong with the tiny machine. Never let it be said that Gaster didn’t come prepared for one of these trips. After some searching he had found a part of the inner chassis had been knocked loose, the damage of a stray ball no doubt, and was pulling at the inner wiring.
Brushing a fingertip along the insides to discharge some of the remaining energy, the shock no more than a bit of static to him, he set the battery down. Gaster put away the glass and clicked off the light, pocketing it as the younger ones moved toward him to see what his verdict was. Removing a large pad of paper and pencil, he laid it on the ground and began to write instructions for a quick patch job, one that he would never be able to do without his tools but was entirely possible for tiny spider legs. A couple were bold enough to climb onto the paper, attempting to read his message before he had finished. He shooed them away gently with a finger, waiting for them to clear off before propping it up.
They took a moment to read, then began to gather around the battery, looking for themselves at the wires and chassis. An older spider skittered over, waving a leg at a few of the younger ones that had swarmed around it and listening to the chittering of three of them as the pointed and waved at the machine. With a bit of silk and some help, they had the chassis repositioned and the wires reattached and wrapped.
They closed the latch and the older spider moved back to their perch nearby as the children tapped at the tiny battery. When it clicked on and blinked, they eagerly moved it back to where it was connected to a small wire. Lights around the park flickered on with a dim glow, which was more than enough for them to eagerly retrieve their soccer ball.
The words on the page disappeared as Gaster returned both items to his pocket, a small giggle catching his attention down the hallway. There stood little miss Muffet in a new green and white dress, frills and lace of silk and pristine white stockings. Standing up just as carefully as he had crouched, he gave a low bow to the spider child who curtsied in turn before holding out her hand expectantly.
When he had first been offered to do business with the spiders he was ill prepared for this moment. Having no gift to give the spider child, he ended up lost for hours with a cheeky little note at the exit that told him to try again next week and to bring a gift for ‘her’ daughter. It nearly convinced him that the effort wasn’t worth it, but how very wrong he was. Spiders could go where very few could, knew the small crevices and holes that were caved in centuries ago. And since then, he was never caught without a gift.
He palmed the gift in his hand and placed it in hers, keeping it covered before revealing it with a small twist of the wrist. A beautiful hair clip of silver and pearl. Muffet cooed in delight, bringing it closer to inspect the intricate details and swirls. Gaster straightened, waiting patiently as she unlatched the back and affixed it to her hair, twirling once she had it in, giggling at the pearl drops dangling just outside of her field of vision.
With his tiny guide appeased she turned and started skipping down the hallway, the arduous task of avoiding spiders coming so naturally to her. Gaster thought it best if he simply lagged behind with his eyes on the ground. He could never tell how close or far away he was whenever he went on these trips, almost as if the lengths and turns varied every time. It wasn’t impossible to imagine, though highly unlikely. Perhaps a simple trick.
The tunnels began to widen and the webbing became thicker until it finally opened up into a large room. It was as if a bedroom had been thrown into the air, only to get stuck on the way down. A powder desk and mirror wrapped in silk strands several feet above him, strings of lights woven into the web itself cast a soft glow, assorted jewelry, metal trinkets, makeup and clothes resting amongst the web in a sort of chaotic order. “He’s here, mama,” Muffet called up, giving another excited spin. | 77db75e3df70473a80dfcd8171a331f6 | ['9206aba99aa044ac80ad3a3d67199022'] | Clearly whatever it was that Chara was utilizing to create the time loops he had seen reflected in the Core readings, it would be found in the unknown attribute flags. If they were to be found at all. Shaking his head as if to remove it of the defeatist train of thought it threatened to barrel down, the scientist retrieved a pair of clamps from a side table, conjuring soul hands to remove the wires and tops of both containers. He had always been careful to never touch the human soul, not wanting to alter it from its natural state in any way.
With it securely between both clamps he lifted the soul out of the liquid, slowly climbing up a couple of steps to the top of the larger tank and setting it inside. It floated downward, eventually coming to rest near the chest of the skeleton. Sighing in relief, he allowed himself a little smile as the hands placed the top back on. He had no fear that the viscous liquid would slow the soul down enough to not shatter at the bottom, the fact that it seemed to naturally gravitate to where it should be could only mean good things.
Climbing back down, Gaster settled himself in front of the main computer, fingers moving quickly along the keys. He had been working on something similar to this concept for the past year, a method to place a crystalline monster soul into a makeshift body that could be controlled by the soul. This was simply reversed. Instead of the means to live being provided by the body itself, the human soul would provide the means to live through the body. That was the concept, at least. He never thought he would intentionally be bringing a human back to life.
Inputting commands to begin the testing process, he set the machine to find coinciding energy, magic, vibrations, anything that would resonate with the unknown flags to make them stronger. With the commands given and the machine beginning the process, there was nothing to do but wait. Gaster sat back in the chair, turning it to face the tank, watching the skeleton and soul simply float. When his mind started to wander, he knew the waiting might be the death of him now.
It wandered to the monsters that were dead, those he knew, those he didn’t and those he would have almost prefered to die for. Perhaps the child was still a mile away, perhaps they had already found the mangled elevator. Perhaps now they would be making their way down the emergency exit on the higher floors. Like an itch in the back of his head, he knew what he had done was ‘wrong’, had not only killed four other monsters but had trapped anyone else in the rooms into a bottle neck. Though, really, did it matter? They were already dead anyway, everything they were since the human fell would be erased soon. All back to zero.
With any luck, any hope at all, this experiment would be the one new thing to happen in years, perhaps a decade. That alone was worthy of sacrifice.
\---
He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for, unsure of how long it had even been since dropping that elevator. At some point he had woken up from a previous nap in the chair, pleased to see that the system had pinpointed almost all of the unknown attributes and was working slowly to try and amplify them in both soul and bones. He was closer, and with the thought of everything ending any moment, he had grown paranoid enough to sit on the floor with his back against the door. Not that it would help anything.
The growling from his stomach seemed intent on telling him that he should have ate at some point. Admittedly if he had known about the impending apocalypse he might have enjoyed a meal and actually made his bed. He chuckled softly at the banality of it.
The growling suddenly turned to an ice bath in the pit of his stomach as the sound of creaking and scraping echoed down the hall outside the door. Gaster’s feet flew under him, wrenching the door open and then closed again. He knew who it was and he knew what they were here for. As long as they didn’t know about the soul, they would move on after…
Gaster reached inside with his soul hands, materializing them where he knew the top of the powered down computer. He felt the edge press against his palms, gritting his teeth and struggling against the weight. Bracing his back against the wall, he used it as an anchor to push the soul hands forward. Eventually he felt nothing, heard the creaking and the subsequent crash on the other side of the door. As if on cue, Chara stepped into the hallway. Gaster panted, back still against the wall as the human simply smiled, dusty knife in hand.
“You haven’t done that before,” Chara giggled as they pointed their knife at the metallic mess that littered the hallway. “That took me a loooong time to get around! But, I found a way in one of your windows. And trust me, that was tough. I think I fell five times!” They walked forward, one step, another. Gaster pushed himself off the wall, standing in the middle of the hallway, four hands conjured with scalpels and three more with large bone saws that crashed against the floor threateningly. Chara paused, though the grin didn’t falter.
‘Things are changing,’ Gaster signed, a half hearted grin forcing its way onto his face. ‘Does that not worry you? Perhaps I am getting closer to stopping you for good.’ |
f0aab363383446e3996a4694f87ca5ad | ['920b7cda84c4469287905dc20382cac8'] | “You look so good like this, Gallagher. Strung out and begging like the slut you are. So good, so perfect, all mine.”
“Mickey, Mickey, I’m gonna- Can I- I need to-“
“Yeah,” Mickey said, pumping his hand faster, “Come for me, Ian.”
Ian arched his hips into Mickey’s fist, moaning out his name. Mickey stroked him through the aftermath. Ian’s chest was heaving up and down when Mickey collapsed next to him. Ian looked from Mickey’s face down to his crotch and back up, “Do you need me to…?”
“I kind of already did, Gallagher.”
“You came without touching yourself?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Mickey grumbled.
Ian blew out a breath, draped an arm over his forehead. “That was amazing.”
Mickey grunted in response, a cigarette having magically appeared between his lips.
“Did you mean what you said?” Ian asked as he reached for the cigarette.
Mickey gave it up without protest. “’Course,” he turned towards Ian, smirk on his face, “You are a slut.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”
Mickey snatched the cigarette back, saying nothing.
Ian elbowed him. “Answer me.”
“I ain’t telling you what you already know, asswipe.”
Ian grinned. A comfortable silence settled over them.
“So,” Mickey started after awhile, “How do you feel about bondage?” | 30157fb0517c41abb263c6dcb90ace17 | ['920b7cda84c4469287905dc20382cac8'] |
I'm Just Sayin'
**Author's Note:**
> Inspired by Fine by Me by Andy Grammer.
>
> I promise this is happy, just suffer through the angst with me and we shall persevere.
>
> Oh, I also set this in the summertime because I can.
(You're not the type, type of girl to remain
With the guy, with the guy too shy, too afraid
To say he'll give his heart to you forever.
I'm not the boy that will fall to his knees
With the hands clasped tight,
Begging, begging you please to stay with him forever.)
"Why don't we pick up where we left off?"
Ian shrugged. "No, thanks."
Mickey moaned in the back of his throat. "Hard to get's gettin' me hard, Gallagher."
And everything after that was blur. Laying in his bed later- correction, curled up in his sleeping bag like the little bitch Terry always told him he was- he replayed the conversation. He didn't remember exactly what Gallagher had said; he just remembered the stabbing in his chest when he'd heard it.
Army.
Four years.
Minimum.
He remembered then that he'd made some bullshit comment, followed by a half-ass attempt to convey his feelings. And Mandy called him on it, telling him something he'd known all along: he was a pussy. A big one.
Mickey shut his eyes and blew out a quiet breath. What was he supposed to do? He had a wife, for fuck's sake. And a baby on the way with his homophobic father eyeing his every move.
"I didn't come here for you."
Mickey rolled onto his stomach, squished his face into his pillow and pretended he was sleeping.
(You, I could see.
I could dream realistically.
I knew that this was different from the start.
And it seems like every time we're eye-to-eye,
I can find another piece of you that I don't wanna lose.)
A shirtless, yawning Ian opened the door. "Mickey?" he asked quietly, stifling another yawn, "whatta doin' here?"
"Needa talk to you," Mickey mumbled. He glanced up and down the dark street, around the porch. Anywhere but at Gallagher, who was rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. And Mickey absolutely did not think that was adorable. That word wasn't even in his vocabulary, so fuck you.
"S'two in the morning, Mick. Can it wait?"
"No. Now."
Ian rolled his eyes. "I'm sleeping."
Mickey eyed him. "Doesn't look like you're sleeping, Gallagher."
"I was. Look, we're gonna wake up my family." He tossed a look over his shoulder.
"So shut the door, shithead."
Ian paused for a second. "I don't have a shirt on."
Mickey felt like throwing his hands up at the absurdity of that, but he refrained. "Like you're gonna be bothering all the people on the street with your indecency? C'mon."
Ian stepped out of his house, pulling the door behind him. "Where we going?"
Mickey plopped down on the porch steps, pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. Ian sat next to him. Neither said anything until Mickey passed the cigarette over.
"You wanted to talk?" Ian probed, and that tone was back, the one he'd been using ever since he found out Mickey was getting married.
Mickey forced himself not to look at the redhead. He cleared his throat. "The fuck you going to the army for, man?"
"You came over and woke me up to ask me that?" Ian handed him his cigarette back and stood. "Go home, Mick."
"Will you just-" Mickey got up when he saw that Ian was going back inside. "Will you fucking listen to me?" He flicked the butt of his cigarette on the lawn.
Ian swung around to face him, eyes wild with fury. "For what? So I'll stick around to watch you and your fucking whore and your baby be one big, happy family? So you can keep your best lay? So I can be another married man's dirty, little secret? So I can keep being your dirty, little secret?" Mickey didn't say anything. "Answer me!" Ian yelled, arms flung wide, "What the hell do I have to stay for? Is there something else you'd like to take from me? 'Cause I don't have anything left, Mickey!"
Mickey snapped his head up, could feel his own anger rising. "Take from you? I've been taking from you?" he questioned incredulously, "Why the fuck do you think I married that bitch? Why the fuck do you think I did anything I did? It was for you. For you! All of it, everything I did, everything I'm still doing is for you!"
Ian dropped his hands to his sides, limp like a ragdoll. "I didn't ask you to," he said darkly.
"You didn't have to!"
"So, sleeping with Angie, was that for me to?"
"Are you still on that shit, Gallagher?" The words had a bite to them that Mickey didn't mean, that he had never meant, not with Ian. He wanted to pause everything and resins because this was not how he planned for this conversation to go. He had been prepared to have the exact conversation he'd been trying desperately to avoid. Another sacrifice for Ian. This one had felt bigger than the others somehow, though he couldn't explain why, but he had been ready. Until Ian started reminding him of all the reasons why Mickey should let him go. But Mickey was selfish. And, if he had anything to say about it, Gallagher was staying right here.
"Are we done here?" Ian's voice launched Mickey out of his own head.
"No," he said and put his hands on his hips resolutely, "Stay."
Ian looked bored. "Is that all?" Mickey must have looked confused. "Really, Mick, is that your master plan: come here, yell at me and then demand that I give up my dream for you? Good one. How's it working out for you?" |
b7aeb2e7c0154c18b8fe53c6ef49cf9d | ['92191c2eb7b0479ebecb395e7df83bee'] | "So…who's leading us in, then? Please don't tell me-" He began with a groan, breaking off with a grunt when an arm was thrown cheerfully over his shoulder, pulling him tight against his boss's side.
"It's me? Oh Pine Tree, don't sound so disappointed!"
_Bear with it, Dipper. Bear. With it._
He shrunk away from his overly affectionate superior to push another round of bullets into his second pistol. Really, Bill was the _last_ person he wanted to be running an operation – and no, it wasn't because he was bad at giving orders or anything like that because he was actually one of the most efficient leaders when it came to Hunts. Bill could push himself into the mind-set of criminals and figure out what made them tick by making _himself_ tick in a way that no one else could. He was like Dipper's opposite in the retrospect, considering his job was to push himself into the minds of criminals themselves and break them down. So no, Bill was a good leader, and that was fine. He didn't mind taking orders from him.
It was the _constant flirting when he was trying not to get himself killed_ that bugged him.
"Don't forget your earpiece, Pine Tree," Bill said, grinning slyly as he pushed a small plug into his ear, hooking it over the outside of it.
"I'm not a child, I can do it myself."
"What? And give up an excuse to touch you – oh Pine Tree, you're sorely mistaken if you think I would do that to myself."
Candy giggled, but a quick glare from Dipper had her turning away and trying to muffle the sounds as she put in her own earpiece.
"I hate my life," he announced with a wildly dramatic moan, pushing the two pistols into his kit belt.
Bill clapped his hands together, rubbing them mischievously. "You're about to hate it even more!" He announced, snapping his fingers at him. "I'm putting you in through the front entrance."
"Front entrance?" He repeated. "Really? Bill, I'm no good at fighting up front, you know that!" Usually the front was the worst place to be – it was the easiest access root after all, so typically the most well-guarded – and therefore, the most dangerous.
"Oh _waa waa, Pine Tree._ Go have a cry about it!" Bill shook his head as he plucked one of the knives from Dipper's kit belt, twirling it around his fingers before slipping the weapon into the only remaining gap on his own belt. "I need you up there. You know as well as I do how volatile some of these gangsters can get. We don't want some crackhead trying to blow up the compound with us in it. That's where _you_ come in. Find their weakest link and before they can do something stupid _destroy it._ Do I make myself loud and clear?"
"…Yes sir," he muttered grudgingly.
"See! Even someone as dim-witted as you can follow simple instructions! Glad to see you're learning, Pine Tree."
"This is why I'd never consider dating you."
Bill deflated, throwing Dipper a shriveled look to rival his smug one, glad to see he'd gotten one over on the flamboyant blonde as he turned to Candy whose shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. He glanced over at her. "Shrew, you'll be on the left wing."
"Formation one?" She asked, pausing in her warm up.
"Uh huh. The quieter the better – stealth is key," he said. "The less time they have to react, the higher rate of success we have for the operation."
Bill swiped up his ear piece, putting it on as he started walking away to the stairs, taking the ones that led down further into the underground complex instead of back up to Headquarters. Dipper and Candy followed quickly after him, following the spiral staircase down. The further they walked the colder it got, and he found himself hugging his arms to his side as he listened to his footsteps scuffing against the ground.
Bill jumped the last few steps, grinning triumphantly as he looked around the parking garage. Cars of every distinction were parked around the large, concrete walled room in the underground sector of the building. His eyes slid from two slim back limousines that took up two parks each, past three 'junk' cars that were typically used for their undercover operations, and over a group of black PD vans that he knew were stocked with surveillance equipment up front, and…other not-quite-so-legal containment units in the back before landing on his boss.
Bill cupped his hands together at his mouth and yelled, "LLAMA! OI! GET OVER HERE!"
Dipper and Candy came to a stop at Bill's side as there was a loud banging down and yelp at the other end of the parking garage. A mop of blonde hair lifted up from behind a motorcycle, Pacifica appearing beneath the wild mane and swearing like a sailor. She rubbed her head with one hand, picking up a wrench with the other.
"DON'T YELL AT ME WHEN I'M WORKING!" She yelled back at him angrily, flinging the wrench at Bill who just dodged to the side with a cheeky grin on his face.
Dipper shoved his hands into his pockets as the mechanic marched over to them with a huff that he could hear from all the way on the other side of the room. | db2e7231c2eb47148cc578556b70a9d9 | ['92191c2eb7b0479ebecb395e7df83bee'] | "Woah," he heard Mabel whisper. He echoed her reverence.
Bill was right about one thing - the tree could definitely see.
The tree...could see.
_The tree can see._
Dipper took a tentative step closer to the tree, touching the trunk. He brushed his hand over one of the knots.
_Is Bill watching me right now?_
His vision blurred, a strange feeling shooting through his gut. The skid of feet against the forest floor made him tense up, only realizing after a few seconds of silence that the footsteps were his own scrambling backwards from the tree.
"Dipper?" Mabel's voice was full of concern. Dipper spun around on his heels, staring at her with a confused expression written across his face. He shook his head, and blinked it away.
"I'm fine. Just...had a moment," he murmured. He grabbed the sleeve of her sweater, letting his hat hide the expression of worry on his face. He turned his back to her, moving past the tree with as much distance as he could get.
_Stop watching me._
His free hand twitched at his side, clenching it into a tight fist. No way was he gonna let Bill get to him.
* * *
Oh. Boy.
That was...this was...
The tree stump was...
"Uh..."
Huge.
The tree stump was huge.
In Bill's projection, it had seemed pretty average, but this was...
...not at all what he expected.
_Asshole. Making me do all his hard work._
It took him a good minute or two to walk around the diameter of the whole thing once. It was so big, that at first he hadn't even _realized_ it was the tree stump Bill had mentioned. He and Mabel had gotten all the way down to the swimming hole before he'd decided to high tail it back the way they'd come, using the excuse that he didn't want to be around Mabel when she changed (even though he was pretty sure she'd put her bathing suit on underneath her skirt and sweater). It gave him just enough time to think of an excuse as to why he had to stay and count the rings on the tree.
He traipsed back through the bush silently, his back a little sweaty from the heat of the day.
He could have really gone for a dunk in that swimming hole right about now.
He dug around in his short pockets as he stood up on top of the tree trunk.
His head tilted a little to the side, his brows furrowing downwards.
Now that he actually _looked_ at the tree root, he saw that...it wasn't even that _old._ Considering the size of it, he knew it should have been hundreds of years _at least._
"1, 2, 3..." He counted aloud to himself, walking across the stump as he counted the strangely thick lines. His brows furrowed as he finished counting the 31 lines, scratching his head.
"...that's it?" He muttered to himself. Surely it had to be more than that?
He dropped down to his knees atop the tree stump. It was oddly smooth under his knees, not covered in ridges and bumps like stumps normally were.
It was kinda comfy, actually.
He began to recount, because it didn't seem right to him.
A tree this big? With only thirty one rings?
After counting it another two times, and finding that _no, he definitely had_ not _made a mistake,_ he decided to sit down properly on the tree stump, feet dangling off the side of it. He toed the green tufts of grass dotted along the brown forest floor with his shoes.
His palms, which had been pressed lightly to the smoothness of the tree, suddenly flattened rather forcefully against it.
There was that _feeling_ again.
Now that he actually focused on it, his eyes closed, he noticed just how _strong_ it was. Not strong, like a pull or a tug, but strong in the way it wrapped him up in its embrace, a wind of tantalizing whispers. He didn't know how to describe it, really - didn't know what to even call it, but he...he _liked_ this feeling.
And it _terrified_ him.
"Dipper!" Mabel shrieked behind him. He jumped a foot into the air, twisting around to look at her.
"Mabel!" His voice was startled, rising to a high squeak. He cleared his throat, feeling small blush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks, saying in a much deeper tone, "Uhm. You uh...you scared me."
She grinned at him, snorting a little. She was wearing her hot pink bathing suit with the bright yellow star across the front, and her light up sneakers with no socks.
Instead of teasing him, she just asked, "You comin'?"
"Er, yeah." He slid off the stump and fell into step with her as they headed back down towards the swimming hole.
She skipped off a few steps ahead of him, and he glanced backwards at the tree root.
_Just what on earth does Bill_ want _with that information, anyway?_
Honestly, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to know.
* * *
"Mabel, no fair, I said no splashing!"
"All is fair in love and splash battles...TO THE DEATH!"
Dipper choked back a laugh as he shielded his face and closed his eyes from the onslaught of water that suddenly fired in his direction.
Just because he was being trained in the art of magic by a powerful dream demon who could probably slaughter millions of people if he wanted to or whatever, didn't mean he didn't enjoy trying to utterly destroy his sister in water wars from time to time.
"Ahck! Mabel!" He choked as she dunked him under water, before pulling him back up.
So far, he was doing a terrible job at utterly destroying her. |
ddd52a124b834c88a084386393db64af | ['921a91ae11c64f428ed323ecedcd3fc4'] | Fuck. I'm sorry, Babe. I guess it's a short one this week.
LUP
You have no one to blame but yourself. Maybe you can give us some history on gay rodeo next time!
BARRY
Ooh. That'd be good. So uh, thanks to Full Enjoyment for hosting our show and check out some of the other stuff on the network-- I'm gonna go get him.
(Barry leaves)
LUP
Mmhm. So check out some of the other shows like "Carey, Killian Start!" or there's "My Brother, My Sister and Me" that we do with my brother Taako. Maybe "Schmetiquette" with Dav and Lucretia. And thanks to fo en and Septembus for the use of their song "Dollars Don't Compensate." Bye everyone!
BARRY
(Shouting over the fussing of a baby)
Bye everybody!
**MUSIC: A jazzy outro plays**
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Sources used for information:
>
> https://www.fitpregnancy.com/baby/health-development/hospitals-need-baby-cuddler-volunteers-nicu
> https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/llr01 | 327f399aa56545c5abdee6190e7145e8 | ['921a91ae11c64f428ed323ecedcd3fc4'] |
Lemon Drop Shot on a Bar Top
**Author's Note:**
* Inspired by LINK by LINK.
> I realized I never did post the original version of "Served Up Neat" where Barry was the one pitchin' so here it is!
Blue fairy light cantrips cast shadows on sawdust and damp, beer-soaked wood. There are few patrons in the bar when Barry enters. A band sets up in the corner to play for coins, and no one bothers to look up from their mugs as he makes his way toward the bar.
She sits underneath neon that illuminates her back in ways that shows off just how muscular she is from her workouts and sparring matches with Magnus. The "V" shape of the top she wears dips just low enough to almost touch the waistband of her high-rise jeans. He knows when she finally stands, she'll be a knockout.
He pulls up a stool beside her. "Seems a shame," he says, throws her a lazy smile he hasn't used in at least 80 years.
"What's that, cowboy?" she asks with a chaser of well whiskey.
"That a lady like you should be drinkin' alone in a place like this."
The grin she flashes is wolfish as she calls to the barkeep. "A shooter for my good lookin' friend here. The good good stuff."
The bartender, a gruff Dwarven man, pulls out a bottle of amber wrapped in a black label.
"That's sippin' whiskey there darlin'," Barry says. "Everyone knows you, uh, don't shoot sippin' whiskey."
"I do," she says with a look that pierces straight to his heart. It's simple. A fact of life that she will break any and all rules. "So, what's your name cowboy?"
"Barry Bluejeans. You?"
"Dixie. Dixie Normous." And Barry almost shoots the liquor right out of his nose.
"Aw come on, Lu, that's not fair."
It's silly really. That they come to this tavern every few weeks to play this game, but it excites him. It's nostalgic even – for nights that Barry hardly remembers, but were youthful and rollicking.
Lup laughs now, too. Her hand is on his arm where it makes slow, sensuous motions against rough skin and hair. She calls for two highballs and never takes her eyes off him. Gods, he feels like he could do anything when she looks at him like that. He could take on the Hunger with only his bare hands.
"You look like you wanna beat your chest and throw me over your shoulder like a caveman," she says as she slips some coin across the counter to the Dwarf.
"Not quite yet," he says with a sip of his drink. He leans against the bar, tilts his hat up with his thumb. He has a better look at her outfit now with a neckline that plunges in the front just as much as it did in the back and a necklace made of turquoise somehow not too bulky on the angular valley of her chest. It almost distracts him from the hardened nipples that are on complete display in front of him. _Almost_.
"Why not?" she asks with feigned insult.
"Because I haven't even asked you to dance and you just bought my drink."
"What can I say? I know what I want."
Barry tries to shift his hip in an attempt to hide the hard-on that rises in his fantasy Wrangler's. She sure knows how to make it difficult to take it slow.
A fiddle whines and that's his cue to lead her onto the floor. It's a jaunty two-step, enough for a warmup without cutting _too_ much of a rug. He spins her out with a flourish, which she revels in as bystanders only watch in their seats.
Barry brings her back to him, her hair is flame that billows behind her as she tosses her head. Her shoulders follow the sway of his. Their hips follow right behind.
He must look goofy. Lovestruck. Because she says, "Those eyes will make a girl weak, Barry." And that makes _him_ weak. He never did like the muddy hazel of his eyes, especially as he aged, but how can he deny a compliment from Lup Taaco?
The song slows into another. It's familiar this time. They draw each other close—cheek to cheek. Barry can smell the spice of whiskey, the sweetness of flowery perfume, and the slightest bitterness of cigarette smoke on her neck. They find a grind even in this easy tune.
She must feel the boner he popped a while ago because she sighs with half-lidded eyes. He blushes, but he's unashamed of how turned on he is by her. How he can't wait to take her upstairs and ravish her.
"Nice buckle there, Champ," Lup says, breath hot in his ear. Coy as always.
"Got that for being the best bulldogger in the circuit. I think I was, uh, 19?"
She hums, and it's damn near a moan against his collar. Her fingers dance on top of the silver of the buckle.
Of course, she already knows the story, and the scar that resulted from a horn that pierced his side. She just wants to hear it again.
He guides his hand around her back, a gentle and brief cup of her ass. " _You're as warm as a glass of brandy. And honey I stay stoned on your love all the time. . ._ "
Lup almost goes slack at the dulcet tones against her hair. He would blame drink if he didn't know perfectly well that the country-boy shit wasn't exactly what she wanted. That and the fact that Lup could even beat him when it came to holding her alcohol.
Her hand moves from his chest to wind in the hair at the back of his neck. The way "Bear. . ." falls from her mouth lands heavy on the smoke in the room--That's all he needs. |
9d66e32f263e41e4ae6bd0722c4d257c | ['923534e95ee7431d9d64da4c2f4723c4'] | The Doctor still looked alarmed, but stayed in place. Crowley took a moment to glance at the guy’s mind, and immediately broke into an astonished grin. “So it is true, you are a man from Gallifrey, who would have thought? Takes me right back. Sky’s orange, innit?”, he mused.
“Takes you right back? What do you mean?” Aziraphale sounded confused.
But Crowley just waved his hand nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter, that was a long time ago. Anyway, what about that soul you came for, angel?”
Aziraphale hesitated a moment, but then nodded and turned again to the frowning man in the suit.
The man seemed alarmed, but tried to mask this by standing straight and plunging his hands into his trouser-pockets. “You say you are … what …, angels?”
Crowley grinned: “Well, he is one, I am a demon, but I’m just here for the show, so don’t mind me.”
The Doctor narrowed his eyes: “An angel, and a demon, and you expect me to believe that?”
“Actually, no, that is not a requirement.”, answered Aziraphale. “As an alien to this world, you probably don’t adhere to any of Earth’s faiths anyway, I suppose, but nevertheless, I am an angel of the Lord, our God, Maker of Heaven and Earth, and of all Things Visible and Invisible – which, incidentally, includes your planet, and – in fact - you yourself as well, by the way. And I am going to bring John Smith’s soul to his eternal rest, whether you believe it or not. I just thought I should tell you, as a common curtesy.”
2. Chapter 2
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Two and a half months earlier, Crowley and Aziraphale meet John Smith, who's strange soul leaves them baffled.
Two and a half months earlier:
In hindsight, the angel did declare it to be divine providence, but when Crowley first came about the man, the demon was sure it was just a coincidence. True, in his experience, coincidences like this were astonishingly rare, but come on: What would anyone have gained by giving a poor bloke his face and voice and then doing nothing about it?
Because after Crowley had gotten his first glimpse of the guy, he had moved Hell and earth, so to speak, to find out what this was all about. When, after probing into every available direction, he didn’t find any inkling that this was the work of Below, and frankly, when nothing sinister happened at all both to the guy nor to himself, he started to write it off as a harmless – and strangely amusing – oddity.
Of course, when he mentioned it to the angel, said angel was not amused at all. Aziraphale had handed him a cup of tea (no biscuit; after their row in the 1900s, they were still mostly on business terms, much to Crowley’s chagrin) and admonished him that just because the fellow’s face was not of Hellish origin, it might still be a trap, maybe from Heaven.
Crowley, who by then had followed the young man in questions for about a fortnight, dismissed this as nonsense: He had seen Smith starting to engage with the school’s nurse, and while Heaven boasted about Love at all times, he knew for certain that no one above would have been able to fake the emotions the man was, quite frankly, displaying on his sleeve.
But Aziraphale was not to be convinced. And so, they both made the trip to the school, arriving just before the beginning of the first term. They had agreed on a complicated cover story, them being the rich (and in Crowley’s case, very eccentric) uncles of a potential pupil (whose name and upbringing they had both painstakingly memorised), wanting to take a look at the school before deciding.
After seeing Crowley’s brand new Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost, however, nobody asked them anything, instead treating them like the obviously very rich and hopefully very generous potential gentlemen they were.
Two or three of the staff inquired politely about any connections between Crowley and the new teacher, Mr. Smith, due to the resemblance. Since Crowley feigned surprise at hearing this, they hastily apologised and retreated. Soon, Crowley spotted his doppelganger and pointed him out to the angel.
“Gosh, you’re right, the spitting image! Could be your s… ”, breathed Aziraphale to Crowley while approaching the young man in question, and then, with a scandalised, but very quiet gasp, “Oh, Crowley, you didn’t, did you?”
“I did what?”, Crowley whispered back, confusedly. What on earth… oh! Oh!
“No! I bloody well didn’t!” Of course, he had bedded humans before, mainly in order to carry out corruptions, but it had been ages since it had been women, and even then, he was not an idiot and had made sure that absolutely no pregnancy could ever come from that, remembering Heaven’s views on Nephilim in general and the offspring of Fallen Angels in particular - and also not being keen on fatherhood due to unresolved parental issues of his own.
Nevertheless, the Smith fellow, who just turned around with an open smile to greet them, could have been his son or even his twin, apart from a couple of years and the hair colour.
When the young man saw Crowley, his mouth fell open slightly, but he recovered quickly.
“Good evening, sirs, how do you do?”, he greeted them politely, while a colleague of him, named Muller or Mulder or something, who had met Crowley before, introduced them.
“How do you do?”, Aziraphale replied courtly, while Crowley just grinned and waved at Smith.
Smith nodded at them, then opened his mouth, but hesitated. Crowley’s grin grew wider, but when Aziraphale nudged his arm, he finally took pity on the young man. He pointed to Smith’s face, then to his own, saying “Probably just a coincidence. On the other hand, I might just be your long-lost fifth cousin, I suppose. Maybe your grandfather got around a bit, eh?” | f3cafee5f0b342c99c0e2e8fe021668a | ['923534e95ee7431d9d64da4c2f4723c4'] |
1. Chapter 1
The console room was dark and cold, just like he felt, or maybe just like it was appropriate for the night cycle. Martha would be sleeping now. Maybe he should, too. Well, lie on his bed for a couple of hours. Sleep wouldn’t come, that he was sure of. Not with Nurse Redfern’s last question still heavy on his mind. Not with everything still heavy on his mind.
With a silent sigh, the Doctor stood. He had already entered one of the long dark corridors that would lead him eventually (he hoped) to his room, when suddenly, there was a noise from the Tardis doors. The sound of them opening! Impossible.
With a frown, the Doctor turned around … and was immediately driven to his knees.
Before him he saw a fearsome creature, so big that it easily filled the whole console room, shining brightly with a white, cold light, that made him desperately want to avert his eyes. The creature looked like a giant, a nebula, a storm, a thousand unblinking eyes, a maelstrom of wings, and when it spoke the Doctor’s true name its voice sounded like thunder, a lion’s roar, like a funeral bell and a burning forest.
With shaking hands, the Doctor tried to shield his head as he cowered, filled with a soul-shattering terror he had never felt before.
The creature spoke his name again, and this time the floor under his knees shook with it.
There was no doubt in his mind that his death, his real death was imminent, but suddenly, he remembered Martha, helpless in her sleep, and this finally compelled him to act. It took all that he had to lift himself from the floor and retreat a few halting steps into the corridor, hoping to hide long enough to access the situation, to find a way to save his companion.
Then the booming voice spoke again, roaring in all languages at the same time, but while it spoke, coalescing to a pleasant, male tenor, that said, in a clipped English, of all things, “Have no fear, my dear boy!”.
At the same moment, the blinding white-cold light and the feeling of terror that had filled the console room ebbed away and were replaced by a low, warm glow, like from a candle, and a subtle aura of kindness.
With pulses still racing, the Doctor dared another look around the corner: Gone was the horrible, magnificent being that had filled the dome, and in its place, there now was a middle-aged human, male, with curly white hair and well-worn European clothing from the 19th century.
Willing his heartbeats to slow down, the Doctor slowly entered the room. He looked more closely at the man: Indeed, the stranger seemed to emit a faint glow, but apart from this he seemed entirely unremarkable – until the Doctor turned his head. Out of the corner of his eyes he still saw the man, but also the blinding maelstrom from before, like an after-image, and he felt the terror again, but like a memory from a dream.
“You have nothing to fear, Doctor!”, the man said and approached with a forgiving smile on his face. “I am here because of John Smith.”
“What?”, the Doctor sputtered. At this, the Tardis doors opened again and a second man entered, tall, thin, dressed in black, with a shock of red hair, and … the Doctor’s own face!
The Doctor reeled back in surprise. This being had copied his body! Did one of the Family escape? In one swift motion, he pulled out the sonic screwdriver and scanned it. He got no reading at all. “You are not Aubertide, nor Zygon or any other life form known, and yet a shapeshifter!?”
“Am not!”, the Doctor-faced creature protested immediately, before it hesitated and settled for a shrug “Well, I guess I am, but I shift only between two main shapes, so that doesn’t count, does it?” With that, it sauntered leisurely through the console room.
“Please don’t mind Crowley!”, the blonde man interjected. “As I said, I am here because of John Smith, who in his hour of extremity cried out unto God, and the Lord heard his plea.”
“Oh, shut it, angel, it was you who heard that Smith fellow!”, the one called Crowley drawled, as he spread himself over the small sofa that stood behind the console.
The blonde one managed to look a bit guilty for a second, but his answer sounded stubborn.
“Of course the Lord heard his plea. Not a single sparrow and all! And since I heard him and I am an angel of God, who’s to say that She didn’t send me as Her answer! Anyway…” and with this he returned his gaze to the Doctor, “I am here to bring salvation to the soul of John Smith, who gave his life to save others. Let me usher him into Heaven.”
The Doctor was taken aback. An angel, sent from a god, to collect a non-existing person, for an afterlife? He had encountered many figures of myth before, surely, but for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, this felt different.
****************
The suited-up guy with Crowley’s face frowned first at Aziraphale, then at Crowley. “There is no… that is, John Smith has only been… there has never been a John Smith, other than me!”, he uttered finally.
Crowley rolled his eyes. The poor fellow still hadn’t caught on.
“Listen, Doctor, Theta, whatever you call yourself today, we know. We gathered as much from Martha…” At that, the Doctor-guy became agitated again and turned to run, so that Crowley held up his hands in appeasement. “No, no, we didn’t do anything to her, just took a look at her soul when we met her in Smith’s house. Just wanted to know what’s going on, with Smith’s soul being simultaneously three months and 900 years old. Bit odd, even for us. Especially when he looks like he’s my naïve baby brother!” |
ad33f922b0674f949d278aafe77abf32 | ['925d5f284c3548bbb63eec831b12061b'] | Hearts
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
> I wrote this for my friend who got me earbuds
>
> Thanks for the earbuds beautiful. I love them♡
When I first met Jimin, he was a bit taller than me. Of course we were nine at the time, and even when he was little he was just as charming as ever.
"May I present, King Namjoon and Queen Michelle of the southern gat, and their son Prince Jimin." When I laid eyes on him, something sparked in my nine year old self. Almost like I had a grasp of the important role he would soon play in my life.
That whole night I talked to him. He was shy at first, barely even made eye-contact. Even my little brain could see how adorable it was. The night we met was truly amazing, what made it even better was a storm came in and he had to stay the night. We begged and begged for the two of us to stay in my room. Our parents got so annoyed they let it happen. We then proceed to stay up all night. All night for us was 12:30pm. we were wild kids.
After that we started sending each other letters (our personal maids giggled every time we asked them to write them). My mother adored Jimin with fiber in her body. She's the reason I saw him so much.
Even as we grew older we were always just as tight, maybe a couple fights here and there, but nothing we couldn't handle.
Jimin was the first to find out he was into men, he knew girls just weren't meant for him. I was very confused when he told me. No one told me men could love other men. I realized a couple months later when he asked to kiss me, that I did not just like women. We were maybe, fifteen than? I can still remember the butterflies that swarmed my body, the feeling of pure bliss as he held me with such care, such love. Of course the kiss itself, sucked ass, but the feelings behind it were beautiful.
I was the first the first to confess, I'll never forget the look of shock on his face the first time I said "I love you" in more than a friendly way. After that, things got more meaningful with the two of us. Sneaking into each others room whenever we stayed the night, writing letters with code we came up with, secret kisses when no one is looking, ect.
At about age nineteen, Jimin told everyone, leaving me out of it of course. As soon as my parents heard, my father was outraged.... my mother pretended to be upset around my father, but behind closed doors she was overjoyed by the amount of people who surprisingly accepted him. Sadly, my father still banned me from seeing, the parks, including Jimin, were still welcome (due to the fact we still needed them as allies).
For a long time Jimin thought I shunned him. He later told me, "It was as if a million boiling hot blades implanted themselves in my heart every time I stepped on the soil of your kingdom". My father eventually made a big mistake, he hired a new bodyguard. I realized after one conversion with the bodyguard, that he, in fact, was just as supportive of Jimin as my mother. He would arrange for me and Jimin to meet in my chambers as much as possible.
My and Jimins love soon grew into a forest of trees and flowers, beautiful and calming. by the time we were twenty-one, a war broke out as soon as the parks realized what was going on with my father. It started because the Parks launched a surprise attack, taking me and my mother "hostage"while their soldiers raided the castle. Jimin kept me in the dark about it all, but I didn't mind; waking up to his face every morning was enough for me.
Right before my twenty-third birthday, my father was killed in battle, and I was crowned king when I walked the streets of my kingdom. As I mourned, Jimin was there. He held my hand when I needed to be brought back down to earth, he embraced me every night as I cried, he kissed me when I needed reassurance, he comforted me and my mother as we wept; he was my best friend, lover, biggest supporter, and my shoulder to cry on.
I am now twenty-four, and writing this as a reminder; bad things happen, but so do good things. With every obstacle, comes a way out: every dark moment comes with light. Jimin and I will be betrothed by the end of the next full moon. Jimin showed me that I can be myself and be happy. He gave me freedom for me to be myself. | ded07b83ee0c484b878755131f9b16b9 | ['925d5f284c3548bbb63eec831b12061b'] |
Heart-Ache
'superficial bitches." Hoseo mumbled as she made her way through a crowd of very tired teenagers. She hated make up days. It was summer for fucks sake! They shouldn't have to make up for a day 3 months ago. The school system always baffled Hoseo. At least she had dance after this, otherwise she would have gone on a killing spree.
it was honestly ridiculous. Just last month she had dozens of friends, a boyfriend even, but one rumor gets out and it's all over for her.
Hoseo wished she never even looked at the man she once called her own. although, now it didn't mean shit.
"please sit down class!" the rest of the time Hoseo was in the classroom was spent zoning out and looking around the jail of a room; til her eyes landed on two polar opposites sitting together. They seemed familiar, but not at the same time? Hoseo was sure they were both violating at least ten dress-codes.
The two girls, one Claude in black and the other in pink, seemed to noticed something, because they looked at each other than around the room; til their eyes landed on Hoseo. the latter quickly buried her face in her arms and mentally screamed. Two pretty girls glaring at her??? Please??? Pretty girls don't even look at her..... at least while she's single anyway.....
When Hoseo looked up again she almost screeched. The one in pink met her eyes and gave her the most beautiful crescent smile. Hoseo just about melt, but she couldn't help giving her a drunk shit grin in return. the pink haired female started giggling silently and poked the girl in black next to her, who seemed to be sleeping on her desk; the glare on the other girls face soon dissolved into a soFt smile as the giggling girl pointed toward Hoseo. The said girl blushed in embarrassment. She was just caught staring three times by both people.
"class dismissed."
those words(and the loud bell ringing in her ear) were enough to wake Hoseo up and paint a smile on her face.
\----
Hoseo always had a burning passion for dancing. She loved the way her body just relaxed and how free she felt when she danced. She forgot about all her troubles as she let her body glide through the new choreography that she had to memorize by the following Tuesday.
A loud laugh ripped her away from her dancing.
"Hoseo!" the said female rush to pause the music," Remember when I told you we'd have a transfer student? Well this is Park Jimin and her girlfriend Min Yoonji, Jimin-ah, noona, this is Jung Hoseo. She's the dance captain and daughter of the owner of this building."
Hoseo froze seeing the girls she saw earlier. This time, the one who was in all pink, Jimin was in gray sweat pants and a pastel pink crop top saying "DOM"; while Yoonji was still in her black leather short skirt and a black cropped tank top.
Jimin smiled and Yoonji nodded.
"Hi." Hoseo said trying not to make a fool of herself.
"Hello Noona!" Jimins voice was one of an angels. Jimin nudged Yoonjis arm and looked at her as if expecting something.
"Sup." Jimin giggled and gave Yoonji a peck on the lips.
"Sit down doll." Jimin whispered to Yoonji, making Hoseo blush madly.
"so Jimin-ah, I'm going to run you through the dance real quick, if you have any trouble tell me, and I'll run through the step again. 'kay?" Jimin smiled and nodded. Both of them took a quick look at Yoonji and than started.
Turns out Jimin and Yoonji have been in the same class as Hoseo for almost a year. Hoseo only just noticed them cause they usually don't look like they just walked out of a fairy tale.
"Yoonji love, how are you feeling?" Jimin panted out before chugging down the water in her water bottle.
"A bit bored, but you guys look hot while you dance so I don't mind too much." Yoonji yawned out as she stretched. Hoseo looked over at her. She was lying on a pastel pink hoodie (Hoseo can't believe she just noticed that hoodie, it's kinda hard to miss). The dance captain began to process what Yoonji had said with a blank face, too in focus to gay panic. Jimin seemed to over look the comment as well, probably used to this behavior from the older woman.
"M'kay doll, do you know what time it is?" the cat like female rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone.
"Almost 6pm."
Jimin looked conflicted for a minute.
"Do we have money for another night at a Hotel?" Yoonji paused for a moment.
"Depends, you wanna eat tomorrow or not?" Jimin muttered curses as she ran one of her small hands through her hair. Hoseo studied both of them for a minute.
"You need somewhere to stay?" the two lovers whipped their heads to the dancer that was forgotten in the corner.
"um, yeah, actually.."
"My room's pretty big, and my mom loves people..." Hoseo realized how dumb she sounded, but hey, if she can get two pretty girls in her bed by the end of the night; and two pretty girls have somewhere to stay.... it's a win-win.
"Are you sure?" Jimin sounded semi shocked, and Yoonji just rolled her eyes.
"which car is yours?"
And that is how Hoseos mother found out she preferred her daughters friends than her daughter herself. Hoseo stabbed her food she was supposed to be eating with her chop-sticks. She new it was childish, but she wanted the pretty girls attention; her mom was supposed to be her wing-woman. What a bitch.
Hoseo felt a tap on her thigh and almost jumped. When she turned her head to face her culprit, she was met with Yoonjis naterually curious eyes. Hoseo was so wrapped up in jealousy she didn't even realize Yoonji wasn't talking at all and that it was just Jimin and her mom.
"Thank you for letting us stay with you til we find a place..." she whispered. She looked adorable as she blushed. the dance captain melted at the sight and let a small smile make it ways onto her face.
"Anything for a friend." she murmured with glee. Yoonji returned the smile and even giggled a little. Hoseo looked back at Jimin, only for the latter to shoot her a wink and go back to her conversion.
One minor important thing Hoseo forget was; she never has people sleepover...sooo she never had anything for other people to sleep on...
"Do you guys mind sleeping with me?" both the girls looked at each for maybe a minute. They seemed to be debating with their eyes.
**Author's Note:**
> hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, I've been meaning to get this up for so long UuU |
c1aafc39b1e3404b9b05dc0823dd02fc | ['92969336955b4307b28c750a5fda8ab6'] | "I hardly doubt your medical practises could help me." He responded, standing up and walking away. Once he was sure he was out of sight of Banner or any other member of the team, Loki let out a quiet whimper of pain as the headache returned, forcing him to close his eyes and just wish to be home with Frigga there to comfort him. If he missed anything at all during his time with The Other and the Chitauri, it was Frigga. She had always comforted him when hurt and alone, but now he was trapped with his brother and his friends with no one to go to that he felt understood him. But this time he had no means of escape. His magic was almost completely gone, and he couldn't ease his own pain or do anything about it without appearing weak to the others. He sighed, deciding to head back to the room he'd been told he was to stay in, and hope that sleep would get rid of the headache.
Tony was in his lab, tinkering away on some updates on his suits when he decided to ask JARVIS what Loki was doing.
"JARVIS, what's Reindeer Games doing right now?" He asked, wanting to make sure he didn't have the threat of a god trying to kill him while he worked.
"Sir, Mr Laufeyson is currently sleeping in his room." The AI responded, making Tony frown. Loki didn't strike him as the type to take naps during the day, even if it was only the god's first day at the tower.
"Scan him and make sure he's actually asleep and not pretending." He ordered, sighing a little. "I really don't trust that bastard here."
"Sir, scans show that Mr Laufeyson is asleep." JARVIS answered, making Tony nod.
"Alright, but let me know when he wakes up and I want hourly reports on what he does. What he eats, what he reads, where he is-"
"I believe I can do that for you, sir." The AI interjected.
"Good, keep me posted." Tony said, before continuing to tinker on his suits.
Thor had just come up to his floor to see Loki after spending some time with Steve, going to his brother's room and knocking on the door before walking in, finding his brother just waking up. Thor frowned, the last time he had remembered Loki sleeping during the day was two years ago, making the god worry for his brother's health.
"Brother, is everything alright?" He asked, closing the door. Loki made a displeased sound, sitting up.
"I'm fine, Thor, and I am not your brother." The raven-haired god snapped, glaring up at him. Thor sighed.
"You've only ever slept during the day when you were unwell, and I shall continue to call you brother until realise that family is more than blood and name." Thor said, moving to sit on the chair by the desk. "Tell me, what is wrong?" He asked.
"What is wrong is that no one will leave me be!" He exclaimed, shooting Thor a look that displayed his anger clearly. Thor looked down.
"I know you do not wish to be here, brother, but you cannot keep up this hatred of everyone around you. I want you to be happy here, but you can only achieve that if you let people get close to you-"
"I have been here a day and no one has willingly spoken a word to me but you! I do not wish to be here, and I shall continue to not want to speak to anyone else! Now leave me be!" Loki shouted, making Thor sigh again. It was so unlike his brother to be like this, and Thor couldn't help but wonder. He stood and left without a word, sighing.
Once Thor was gone, Loki curled up on the bed, groaning in pain again. His head was still hurting, and he was beginning to feel sick. He stood up slowly, making his way to the bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet, falling to his knees and gripping the edge of the bowl with both hands, gasping. Once the bout was over, he wiped his mouth and flushed the chain, flinching at how loud it was, and went to go back to bed before the room began to spin, and his vision went black, and he hit the floor with a loud thud.
Tony had just poured himself another scotch when JARVIS gave him an update on everyone's favourite Norse god.
"Sir, I'm afraid Mr Laufeyson has collapsed after vomiting in his room." The AI said. Tony blinked, surprised.
"Come again?" He asked.
"Mr Laufeyson is currently unconscious in his room, sir. I would advise getting a medical team there immediately." The AI responded, and Tony sighed.
"Alright, get Bruce and some others up there. I'll meet them in the medical floor." He said, downing the scotch and leaving the lab. | a523611dd9d2426d9ca3807acda25e0c | ['92969336955b4307b28c750a5fda8ab6'] |
Live to Die, Rise to Fall.
The sound of thunder and lightning above New York was familiar to the inhabitants of the Avengers tower, as they'd heard it often enough after the battle of New York six months ago. Thor had been coming and going repeatedly during those months, and the team had grown accustomed to hearing the thunder and lightning weekly, or at least once every two weeks. At this point, the tower's reconstruction had been completed and each Avenger had their own floor, each complete with a kitchen, spa, gym and training arena, though they all mostly used the communal floor as they liked each other's company, and that was where they were when Thor arrived at the tower with a very unexpected guest behind him. Tony was the first to make a comment about the raven-haired companion at behind the golden god of thunder.
"What's he doing here? JARVIS, make sure this is real and I haven't drunk myself into hallucinating this." He said, knocking back the rest of the scotch that was in his glass. Loki shifted uncomfortably on his feet behind Thor.
"Sir, I believe what you and the other teammates are seeing is, in fact, real." The A.I. responded. Tony sighed, and looked around the room, seeing that Clint already had an arrow notched and was aiming at Loki, who's gaze was fixed on the floor, his pale skin made bright by the contrast of the wall behind him.
"Damn it, alright." He said, setting the glass down and walking over to Thor. "I'll bite. What's he doing here, Sparky?" He asked, cocking his head. The Loki behind Thor seemed entirely different from the one six months ago. Gone was the confidence and pride, and in its place stood what appeared to be a shy and self-conscious being that Tony could have sworn wasn't Loki if it wasn't for the fact he was looking right at him, with his black hair, pale skin and green eyes- Tony was certain they'd been blue six months ago. Or perhaps he was just too drunk to notice back then. Possibly.
"Do not worry, my friends. Loki is not here to cause trouble. My father has given him his sentence." Thor started, the rest of the team looking at him attentively. "He is to remain here with you and help you until he dies." The god explained. "He has been stripped of his powers save for only a few, so he can appear normal and not cause harm to anyone who touches him. He is harmless now." Clint's bow remained fixed on Loki.
"How can you be so sure?" The archer asked, keeping his gaze on the other god.
"My father has made sure it. Rest assured, Barton, he is no danger to you now." Thor said calmly.
"So we're just supposed to accept that your father, a one-eyed god that we've never met, has taken away Reindeer Games' powers and said that he has to stay here with us, a group of people he pissed off, in a city he almost destroyed half a year ago?" Tony asked, and Thor nodded.
"That is correct, Stark. Loki has always been a trickster, and if he should cause harm to you or anyone else again while here on Midgard, he will be taken to Asgard and face a much worse punishment." Thor explained. Tony found himself nodding, Clint reluctantly putting his arrow back in its quiver and setting the bow down.
"Alright, fine. But don't expect us to like him or get along with him." Tony responded. "Oh, and you're sharing your floor with him." Thor nodded.
"A reasonable condition, considering." Thor said, nodding.
"Alright, it's settled. Reindeer Games is staying with us."
The following day, Loki found himself in the library on the communal floor, wandering amongst the bookshelves as he searched for a book that interested him. He found that there were none, much to his displeasure, as he didn't recognise the titles or authors, and he sighed, deciding that he would just have to settle for picking a random book and read it- he knew Midgardians were fond of fiction, so he found a book of that genre and sat down to read it.
He read for a few hours, halfway through the book, when a familiar pain shot through his head. He dropped the book, pressing both hands into head, cursing quietly. He hadn't had this pain in at least two years, and he wondered what had caused it to return. He groaned in pain, taking slow and deep breaths, waiting for it to pass. The pain ebbed away, and only then was Loki aware of the voice calling his name.
"Loki? Loki, can you hear me?" The voice asked. The black-haired god looked up, seeing the doctor that could turn into that huge green thing- he shifted away from him.
"I can hear you just fine, thank you." He snapped, looking away from him.
"Are you alright?" Banner asked, a look of concern flashing over his face. "You looked like you were in some serious pain there."
"I am fine- I have no need for your concern." He responded. He heard the doctor sigh heavily.
"At least tell me how long these headaches have been going on for." Loki sighed heavily, realising that the doctor was not going to leave him alone until he told him.
"They started around two years ago, but they stopped after awhile." He said, looking at him. Banner nodded slowly.
"And now they've come back, haven't they?" He asked. Loki nodded.
"It would seem so, but this is the first one I've had, so perhaps it is just due to recent events." He said, looking away from him.
"Alright, but if they persist or get worse, don't be afraid to tell me and we can do something about it." Loki scoffed. |
9587131fc7454892ad452423d276cabd | ['92a882e014fe47af918980550d8c6f23'] | Hannibal bites his own lips and slams in hard, hoping to meet his own end soon. He watches the man beneath him for signs of discomfort or pain, praying that the drug isn’t starting to wear off; from Will’s moans and begging, it seems not to be. He keeps going, the room is filled with only the sounds coming from the two of them: gasping, moaning, and skin against skin. Hannibal hopes someone can hear them.
His release comes far too soon. The doctor’s hips stutter forward one final time as he comes inside of his companion. Will whines again at the feeling, throwing an arm over his face to hide. Hannibal laughs and pulls out, collapsing next to the younger man almost immediately. He feels around for Will’s hand and intertwines their fingers when he finds it.
Will is drifting in and out of consciousness, his breathing finally calming down enough to let him rest. The blood has mostly stopped running from his shoulder now that his heartbeat has settled.
“That…”
He’s shushed by gentle fingers brushing through his hair, “Don’t speak, Will. Rest now.”
Will nods, eyes slipping shut; he allows himself to be lulled to sleep by the soothing touches and soft words of love being whispered in his ear. The last thing he hears before losing himself to the darkness is Hannibal professing what he knows has always been hidden in the man’s heart.
“My darling Will, you never cease to surprise me,” A soft chuckle and a press of lips to his forehead. “I simply adore you.”
Hannibal rolls on his side to turn his alarm clock off. He'll cancel his appointments in the morning; he clearly has more important things to worry about. Will lets out a content sigh in his sleep as the clock turns over to 4:36.
**Author's Note:**
> Hope you all enjoyed!
>
> Thank you again to @glasscatfishart/Elliott because I adore them and they helped me get over my intense writer's block I was dealing with. I'll be forever grateful. Can't wait to write more of this stuff for you.
>
> Elliot's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/glasscatfishart/
> Elliot's Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/ie/shop/GlassCatfishArt
>
> My other projects: https://tapas.io/episode/806731 | b8c673e13ec0428ea65bea08ff4891a0 | ['92a882e014fe47af918980550d8c6f23'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> So my friend and I are in a Hetalia roleplay group (she's England, I'm Scotland), and this is pretty much a transcript of one of the nights. The only difference is that we both lived in the roleplay. So yeah.
> Hope you enjoy.
Nothing seems to be going right today.
First, Arthur woke up late, resulting in him not being able to have his morning tea. Then, on his way into the meeting room, he tripped, running head-long into Russia, who spilled coffee down the front of his shirt.
_The gods must be against me._ Arthur thinks to himself as he pours himself a cup of coffee and finds a seat next to America.
Picking up the cup, he brings it to his mouth trying to ground himself.
"I'd like to introduce the newest addition to the group: Scotland."
Arthur chokes on his coffee. _You have got to be kidding me!_
He looks up in shock, staring at the tall country standing at the head of the table.
It's him alright. Fiery red hair standing at wild angles, and emerald green eyes that seem to glow. He scans the room, a lit cigarette dangling from his smiling lips.
"Great to be here." Scotland says. He smiles at everyone again and walks to his seat.
_Of course he sits across from me._ Arthur stares into his cup, doing everything he can to avoid looking at his brother. _Why the bloody hell is he here?! It's been years since they last saw one another. The last time was when Allistor got drunk and..._ Arthur shakes his head, trying to clear the bad memories.
He puts his head down, promptly zoning out. He should be paying attention, but... He'll just get the notes from Alfred or someone later.
Arthur shivers slightly. Someone is watching him.
He looks up, immediately making eye contact with Scotland. He does his best to stand his ground, but finds himself shrinking under the intense stare from his older brother.
Enough is too much for one morning. He stands, staring down at the space between his hands.
"I have to go." He walks out of the room before anyone can stop him.
Once he's out of sight, Arthur breaks into a run. He bolts to his room, slamming the door behind him, and sinks to the floor, coughing into his hand.
_Why are you so afraid of him? It's not like you've seen him for years._
"I shouldn't be afraid of him! Why am I so afraid?!" No answer come, not that he expected one.
Arthur sighs, standing and walking to his desk. He pulls out the chair and slumps down into it.
_I'm a bloody fucking idiot._ He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, letting sleep overtake him.
A knock.
Arthur groans, coughing and blinking himself awake.
He stands up, slowly moving to the door and opening it. Scotland stands there, green eyes glittering in the low light of the hall.
"A-Allistor!" Arthur stammers, shrinking back slightly.
The taller country doesn't respond, instead he peers into England's room. "Your room's a lot bigger than mine." He smiles down at his little brother.
"Oh. I suppose it's because I've been here longer." He coughs into his hand again.
"I just came to give you these." He hands Arthur a small stack of papers. "America said you'd want them."
"Thanks."
Allistor nods, offering the papers to his brother. England reaches out to take them, his hand falters halfway and he doubles over coughing.
"You alright, Wee One?" He pats Arthur's back.
"Y-yeah. I'm fine." His voice is raspy.
"You need anything? Some water, or some cough medicine or something?"
Arthur looks up at his older brother. _Is he actually concerned?_ "No. I'm fine, thanks." He grabs the papers from Scotland's hand, and closes the door.
_Why is he here?!_
He leans an ear against the door and listens to his brother’s retreating steps.
Allistor walks back to his room, his thoughts on Arthur.
_Wonder what’s wrong._
A shape bouncing toward him down the hall makes him stop walking. He tries to sidestep, but gets caught when the Italian almost collides with him.
“Oh! Scusi! I didn’t-a see you there!”
Allistor steps back, slightly overwhelmed at the bubbly energy radiating off the Italian. “H-Hi.”
“You’re-a Scotland, right?” He’s got a huge smile on his face.
“Yeah.” Allistor smiles. “You’re Italy?”
The smile somehow gets wider.
“That’s-a me! You can call me Feliciano or Feli, though.”
“Feli, then. I’m Allistor.” “That’s a nice name!”
Allistor smiles, “Thanks.”
Feliciano grins up at the taller country. “You’re-a England’s big brother, aren’t you?”
Allistor nods, starting to walk back to his room, Feli following close behind.
“You seem-a like a great brother!” He pulls Scotland into a hug. “It was-a nice to meet you, Alli!”
“You too, Feli.” Scotland pulls out of the hug and slowly retreats into his room.
He flops back on his bed, reaching into his pocket to grab his pack of cigarettes. Sitting up, he picks up the lighter from the bedside table and lights his cigarette. He breathes in deeply, savoring the burn as the hot smoke drifts down his throat.
His mind drifts back to Arthur. “Why is he afraid of me?” He says aloud. “It’s not like I’ve done anything to hurt him… oh.”
He remembers.
It’s something he’s always hated, and is the reason he quit drinking. Years of separation and unrelated problems made him push the memories to the back of his head. Now they come back.
_They’re walking back from a pub. It’s maybe ten thirty or eleven. They’ve both had a bit to drink, Allistor has had significantly more and he wobbles as he walks. Arthur reaches out, trying to steady his older brother, only to have his hands roughly slapped away._
_“Don’t touch me.”_
_Arthur steps back slightly. “S-sorry, Alli, I was just trying to help.”_ |
805cb07ad700475db0bec907d743ec4f | ['92c64e5e3ddd47e197ee846a420764e8'] | His eyes snapped open, heart pounding as his screams rose up to ear-shattering heights. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t move, cold straps digging into his flesh and keeping him still. Bright lights shone down on him, nearly blinding him with their brilliance.
Where-?
“If we increase it any further, it might kill him.”
“Keep trying, Macidus. We have the schematics to rebuild it if we need to. We don’t need his body.”
Shiro shuddered at that voice, familiar only because of his nightmares. Haggar stood nearby, hovering over him. She smiled when she noticed him looking at her.
“You’ve held up a surprisingly long time, Champion. If you can survive awhile longer, you’ll be rewarded.”
Another man stepped forward, presumably Macidus, some kind of cable in his hand. Haggar moved aside and the man attached something to Shiro’s prosthetic. It wasn’t until then he realized the casing was missing, wires spilling out of it in neat rows.
What-
No, Matt had made that for him. It was-
Shiro struggled against his bonds to no avail as the strange man turned to his computer, tapping out some kind of command.
Shiro kicked frantically, but the restraints refused to give, not allowing him to put the proper amount of force behind it. Pain seared through his arm, burning hot, like liquid lava being poured into his bones, burning him from the inside out. He continued to scream, high-pitched and pained, tearing his throat apart with every cry.
He couldn’t move, the agony so great his muscles clenched, like they wanted to flee but didn’t know how to do it. Black spots danced across his vision as the pain intensified, well beyond what Shiro thought he could take.
Shiro was going to die here.
All at once the burning stopped but the pain lingered, as if his skin was still melting away and sloughing off onto the ground. Tears fell unheeded down his cheeks, pooling on the cold metal of the table and soaking into his hair. He trembled, muscles jerking as Haggar inspected his prosthetic curiously.
“Amazing.”
Shiro moaned as she turned the hand this way and that, heedless of the pain every tiny movement caused him. After a moment she set it down, turning to give Shiro a cold smile.
“Congratulations, Champion.”
Through the haze of pain and delirium, Shiro’s mind quaked.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I'd really love to know your thoughts on this chapter, for anyone that has a moment to spare. :) Was it a surprise?
>
> There's only one more chapter to go! We're almost there!
7. Chapter 7
Ryou stared solemnly at the photo of Sergeant Takashi Shirogane. His brother. DNA testing had proven to him once and for all that he was _not_ Shiro. He was Ryou Kuronagi and even after two weeks of memories slowly filtering in, the thought still sent his heart into a minor panic. Before, he wasn’t allowed to think of himself as Ryou, and ignoring the programmed response to it was still…
It was challenging.
Therapy was helping, but it was slow going. At least now he wasn’t attacking people randomly for no other reason than that he was programmed to.
“He looks a lot like you,” Curtis murmured, resting his chin on Ryou’s shoulder.
“I never knew I had a brother, let alone a twin. I…” Ryou trailed off with a soft sigh.
“You’ve gone a long time without family. It’s probably shocking to realize you’ve had one all along.”
Ryou turned, pressing a kiss to Curtis’ lips. “ _You’re_ my family, always.”
Curtis smiled, hand cupping the side of Ryou’s face. “Still, you want to meet him.”
Ryou closed his eyes, letting his head rest on Curtis’ forehead, just sharing the moment with him. He was his guiding light after all of this darkness and Ryou loved him so, so much. “I want to help them find him. It’s…it wasn’t a nice place, babe. I-”
Ryou paused, letting his fingers dig into Curtis’ shirt. The idea that someone else was out there, going through that…
“I need to help, in any way I can.”
“I’m right there with you.”
Ryou’s heart soared, warmth swimming through his veins. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
\---------------------------------------------------------
“I swear to God, dude, I heard the Champion has been out of commission for the last week and a half.”
Matt sighed, rubbing his temples. “And you’re sure you don’t know where they’re holding these cage fights? I need more than this, Bogh.”
He’d come to this tiny alleyway to speak to one of his informants. Bogh was one of those criminals that liked the _idea_ of crime but was too afraid to really sink his teeth into it. That meant he was usually on the periphery of many crimes but never in deep enough to get in trouble.
“Well, maybe I could-” Bogh cut himself off, eyes widening in fear.
Matt whirled, gun in hand, pointing it directly at-
“Myzax,” Matt snarled, eyes narrowing in hate.
Bogh squeaked in terror, taking off down the alley and disappearing over the fence.
Myzax held his hands up in surrender. He looked like he’d seen better days. He was now sporting a wicked scar above his left eye. He was somehow bigger than he was before, and his right ear looked like a chunk of it had been bitten off.
“Don’t shoot.”
Matt shot him in the knee.
Myzax collapsed to the dirty ground, blood trickling from between the fingers clutching his knee. “Ow, _fuck_ , you fucking _shot_ me!”
“Self-defence.”
“Self-” Myzax cut himself off with a groan. “Are you serious?”
“If you don’t start talking, the next shot will be the last.”
“I have information on Shirogane.”
Matt’s heart stopped. Time seemed to slow to a halt as his brain processed the words. After a moment he frowned, tightening his grip on the gun.
“Liar.” | 0fe1609c173340eb90a323023468deb4 | ['92c64e5e3ddd47e197ee846a420764e8'] | The hallways were mostly empty, and those few that were around didn’t pay them much mind. It looked like they were escorting two drunken colleagues and, with Ulaz being quite highly ranked within the Galra and Shiro himself considered to be an honored guest, no one was about to question them.
Well, no one with any sense, anyway.
Which was why Shiro sighed internally when Myzax came ambling around the corner ahead. His dark eyes landed on their group and he strode purposefully towards them, stopping in just the right spot to block the hallway.
“Ulaz.” Myzax gave the other man a respectful nod. His gaze slid over towards Matt and the commissioner and he blinked at them in confusion. Ulaz and Shiro had taken the time to give them some spare clothes and cover their faces with scarves and hats. The outfits weren’t all that unusual in a gang that took its shady business way too seriously.
“Just some idiots that drank too much.” Ulaz commented, managing just the right touch of exasperation. Matt, being the drama queen he was, took that moment to sway alarmingly and Shiro growled, yanking him back.
“Right.” Myzax muttered, barely concealing his complete disinterest. He turned to Shiro, eyes narrowing in hate. “Kuro. I’d been wanting to talk to you.”
Shiro’s guard went up at his tone. Myzax had never liked him but now was the worst possible time for him to act on it. Regardless, Shiro had to stay in character or risk sending out an alarm. Instead of replying, Shiro raised an eyebrow in question.
Myzax visibly grit his teeth, leaning into Shiro's personal space to look him right in the eyes. Shiro didn’t back down but he didn’t push forward either. Kuro was above such grandstanding.
“I’m just trying to understand why _you_ were at the party this afternoon.”
Shiro could feel Matt stiffen beside him and he squeezed his hand in quiet reassurance. He gave Myzax a look that clearly indicated his sincere belief that he was dealing with a simpleton.
“I was invited by the Emperor.” He said slowly, as if speaking to a child.
Myzax got even closer, something Shiro hadn’t thought possible. “I’m not stupid, asshole. I just want to know why you’re so _special_. What have you done to earn that kind of reward?”
Shiro let a smirk slowly slide onto his face. “I’m in no position to question the Emperor's decision to keep you out of the loop, Myzax. Perhaps he just thought you couldn't handle it.” The look on Shiro's face indicated he felt the same.
Myzax growled and shoved Shiro but he had been expecting it. He already had his feet planted so he barely shifted. He let his eyes narrow dangerously.
“Look, Myzax, I’m already busy babysitting two idiots. I don’t need to add a third.” He sneered. “I don’t have time to deal with your whining. If you’re so butthurt about this, why don’t you go suck Zarkon’s cock like a good little slut? I hear you’re good at it.”
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” He heard Matt whisper, so softly Shiro was certain he was the only one who heard it.
Myzax stared at him in shock, likely unused to someone standing up to him. It could also have been that that was the longest string of words he’d ever heard Kuro say. The look would have been amusing in any other situation. Shiro gestured for Ulaz to continue on and turned to follow him. They were so close to the exit, if they could just get through…
“Don’t you fucking turn away from me!” Myzax snarled, and Shiro didn’t even have time to think he just moved, pushing Matt away from him as he dodged to the side.
Myzax just barely missed him, stumbling from his own momentum and nearly crashing into the wall. He grabbed onto Matt in an attempt to stop himself, knocking the smaller man down in the process. Later, Shiro would swear that time had slowed down in that one moment, but it was probably just the adrenaline spike coursing through his veins. He watched, helpless to stop it, as the collision knocked Matt’s scarf and hat off.
Everyone froze. Myzax gawked, mouth gaping open in shock. That look swiftly shifted to smug as he looked over at Shiro. “CODE RED!!!” he bellowed, reaching down to pull out his radio.
Ulaz darted forward, arm shooting out in a blur of movement, striking the radio. It crashed to the floor and broke into pieces, but it was too late. An alarm had already started to blare, red lights flashing throughout the hallway.
Myzax cackled. “Something tells me I’m going to enjoy the next party.”
“Go fuck yourself and eat a bowl of rancid dicks!” Matt snarled, kicking his foot out to strike Myzax’s knee. Shiro heard the knee cap pop right out of it’s socket just before the man howled in pain and crashed back down to the floor.
Ulaz took the opportunity to kick Myzax in the head, rendering him unconscious.
Shiro grabbed Matt’s arm, pulling him to his feet and slinging the arm over his shoulder.
“Matt, where did you learn such language?” Commissioner Holt remarked.
“From you.”
Shiro pulled Matt forward as Ulaz adjusted his grip on the Commissioner and followed suit.
“Must have been hanging out with the wrong crowd.” Holt continued sadly, shaking his head in over-the-top woe.
Shiro sighed. Like father like son.
“Nope. It was all you.”
“Where did we go wrong, Colleen?” Holt asked his wife who most definitely was not there.
“Go left, Shiro.” Ulaz called out and Shiro veered around the corner, nearly colliding with two guards that were running down the hall.
Ulaz straightened his back, pointing to the right with his free hand. “The escapees went that way. We’d follow after them, but we have two injured comrades.” |
10f6d18d2b774d05aeed3779bd30df6b | ['92f0c1356c764467ae12b3b5db2856bf'] | He shoved his phone back in his pocket and began copying down the details she had left on the board. He felt his phone buzz against his stomach through his hoodie pocket and pulled it out under the desk once again. He smiled as he read the text.
**Music class jish** : see you soon baby boy X
* * *
Tyler shut his gym locker and pulled two sweatbands onto his wrists just as he heard the nearing laughter and sneaker-squeaks of his teammates echoing through the changing rooms, indicating it was probably time for him to move onto the court and warm up. He turned on his heel and headed optimistically up towards the changing room doors, wondering if Josh would still be there like he said he would - but his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous shout from Alex.
“Hey Tyler! Buddy! Where were you at lunch? We missed you!” Tyler stopped by the door, pursing his lips and slowly turning around to see the sneering faces of his teammates approaching him. Great.
“I uh, went to find Josh - like I said.” Tyler tried answering casually, but he knew his expression was too hard and nervous looking. These boys could sniff out anything.
“For the whole of lunch? Yeah right, you ate with that faggot and his faggot friends didn’t you?” Alex questioned in a fake-happy tone, stopping right in front of Tyler with his hands on his hips.
“Uh he’s not a f-faggot - I mean - he’s not gay and uh, even if he was it wouldn’t matter. He's, uh, kinda cool and so are his friends so...” Tyler tried, instantly regretting every jumbled word that just came out of his mouth.
Alex’s expression suddenly turned serious and he titled his head, “Oh?” he said, making a little circle with his mouth as he drew it out, “Did you forget about your little bible studies all of a sudden? That punk bats his lashes at you _once_ and you drop everything for him?”
“No, that’s not-“ Tyler put his hands up in denial as Alex stood over him, Zack and Rian looming either side of him like expressionless bodyguards.
“No, _you_ listen here,” Tyler was now backed up against a wall on the left-hand side of the corridor - something that they had never done to him before. Don't get me wrong, they'd done a lot of crappy things to Tyler, but never something so outright threatening. At this point, Tyler had officially stripped them of any title that regarded them as his ‘friends’ - and to be honest, that was quite overdue.
“What does the bible say? Go on, tell me.” Alex crossed his arms and bore his eyes into Tyler’s.
“I don’t-“
“'Man shalt not lie with another man'. That’s what it says. But you know that, right? So all _we_ wanna know is why you’ve betrayed us for this _faggot?_ You said you don’t care about music class but now you’re eating lunch with him because of it? Have you got a fucking _crush_? Have you forgotten about the _team_ because of him?” Alex spat back, a spot of saliva landing on Tyler's cheek. "ANSWER ME."
This moment could be easily pin-pointed as 'the last straw' for Tyler because suddenly he became filled with white hot rage; the years of borderline-bullying sugar-coated as _'friendship'_ all piling up on top of him and manifesting in his expression. All he could think about were the tirelessly sour memories of humiliation and exclusion - day in, day out - playing on a loop in his mind, and whatever comes next will have all been worth it because for a few _sweet_ moments he actually got to see Alex look _scared_ because of him.
“You _fucking_ know what?" Tyler started, "I _do_ like Josh and I ate with him and his friends today because they’re _much_ better company than you idiots have _ever_ been! Like, how many times are you gonna recycle the same _bullshit_ story about fucking some random girl at a party? No one cares Alex! It gets pretty boring after the first _fourteen_ _times!_ And maybe if you had more than _two brain cells_ in that _empty fucking head_ of yours, you'd actually be able to hold a girlfriend and wouldn't need to make up all these _shit_ stories to impress people with in the first place!” Tyler exploded, even daring to point a hard, accusing finger at Alex’s chest.
For a few seconds the scene remained just like that; a glorious freeze-frame that Tyler would recall in the years to come as the most satisfying moment of his life thus far. That is, until, Alex unexpectedly grabbed the wrist of the hand Tyler was using to poke him with and slammed it into the wall behind him. Before Tyler could yell out or break free, Alex used his other hand to roughly grab his chin and pin him down.
“Boy, are you gonna _fucking_ get it -“
“What’s going on in here?” A stern voice sounded from behind them and the trio jumped apart, releasing Tyler in the process. Tyler himself scrambled to his feet and let out a shaky sigh of relief as the bodies parted to reveal their coach, Mr. Wentz, who was waiting patiently for a reply. As no one else dared to speak, Alex nervously cleared his throat.
“No-nothing sir, just chatting about last week’s game.” He lied through his teeth and Mr. Wentz raised a questioning eyebrow directly at Tyler as he obviously sensed the deception. All Tyler could do, though, was slowly nod in agreement because the last thing he wanted right now was to be called a snitch. Mr. Wentz sighed, deciding to let it go before clapping his hands together. | 5ab9fe8bf393474db2196ad769fae183 | ['92f0c1356c764467ae12b3b5db2856bf'] | “H-hey.” He breathed, looking down at Jack awkwardly because the he hadn’t bothered to get up.
“Hey…?” Jack returned confusedly from where he continued to sit stubbornly. It was obvious that Jack just wanted to be left alone to sleep and Tyler wanted to _scream_ at him to _move his light-weight-ass over_ so that Alex could actually sit on the couch too and Tyler could escape the situation. He _really_ didn’t want to be stuck serving as Alex’s wingman for the rest of the evening, that’s for sure. Suddenly Alex nudged Tyler with his elbow and he realised that he had forgotten the _actual_ introduction.
“Oh yeah, uh, Alex is on my basketball team and I thought ‘hey, you know who would like this guy? – Jack, Jack would like this guy’ so here he is and I hope you guys have a great time chatting. Guys.” Tyler rushed then smacked Alex hard on the shoulder in substitution for a ‘good luck’ and sped _the fuck outta there._
Tyler was heading straight for the upstairs bathroom so he could lock himself in and think about how _‘holy shit I just set up one of my friends with a homophobic douchebag just because I felt sorry for him!?’,_ but just as he reached the stairs the doorbell pinged loudly and spooked him to a halt in his fragile, panicked state. He looked around warily and deliberated on answering it as he heard no movement to indicate anyone was coming to deal with it, but he already had a foot on the first step and decided that it wasn’t his place to answer someone else’s door. Suddenly there was a squeak of floorboards and Tyler saw Dallon appear at the top of the stairs looking pink-cheeked and dishevelled with his shirt half unbuttoned and flies undone. Both boys froze as they clocked onto each other, feeling mutually embarrassed at the understanding that Brendon _obviously_ had _something_ to do with Dallon’s current state of appearance and Tyler _really_ didn’t want to know the nitty gritty details. Dallon blinked a few times, looking conflicted.
“B-Brendon! Pizza’s here!” he called over his shoulder, presumably to the room he had just vacated. Tyler leant against the banister casually and flashed a _‘don’t mind me’_ kind of smile to hide the fact that he was desperate to get away from Jack and/or Alex and the party scene in general.
“There’s money under the pot,” Tyler heard Brendon shout as he continued to fake smilie at Dallon, “j-just deal with it I still have fucking cum in my eye.”
If Tyler was drinking right now, he would've spewed all over Brendon's nice carpet. Tyler ripped his eyes away from Dallon’s and looked down hard at the step beneath his foot, feeling a heat spread in his cheeks. It wasn’t any consolation to Tyler that Dallon was probably burning three shades brighter because they were now stuck in a horribly awkward silence – neither one wanting to move to let the other through. Luckily the doorbell sounded again and Dallon took the initiative to jog down the stairs (doing his buttons up in the process). Tyler pressed his body up against the bannister to let him past and looked back up at the now cleared landing. Suddenly he didn't feel to hot about going upstairs in case he stumbled into the ‘wrong’ room and wound up getting involved in Brendon’s… predicament. So he stayed, lingering on the steps.
Dallon opened the door and paid the pizza delivery boy, who accepted his generous ten dollar tip gratefully before offloading an unnecessarily large quantity of pizzas and garlic bread onto Brendon’s porch. Dallon sort of stared at it for a second – overwhelmed by the stack of boxes before giving Tyler a ‘help me’ look. Tyler had a suspicion that Dallon was still ‘under the influence’ and so – out of pity – moved forwards to grab a few boxes. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to be the bringer of good news and as a bonus he’d get to interrupt Josh and Debby’s delightful conversation. Josh liked pizza more than Debby – he was sure of it. Josh liked _Tyler_ more than Debby - he was even surer of that.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Wow... the Joshler in this one was... mind-blowing *sarcasm*, but really ya'll it's gonna get cute as shit in the next chapter I'm gonna make it happen
15. A Certain Romance
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> \- Some stupid Joshler drabble
> \- (Surprise surprise) Tyler does something dumb to impress a boy
> \- Spin the bottle ;)))))
> \- Tyler cracks under the pressure
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> WARNING: There's a CLIFFHANGER in this chapter I'm so sorry
>
> Also Halsey and Frank Iero are the xxxtras in this chapter, peace
Tyler’s genius plan to steal Josh back from Debby was wholly successful, and the two boys were now seated happily on the living room floor surrounded by a dozen unopened boxes of pizza – AKA Tyler’s personal heaven. As an unexpected bonus, Debby had stormed out at the sight of the fast food because she’s vegan or allergic to gluten or something – Tyler really didn’t care; she was gone and Josh was finally back by his side and that’s all that mattered to him.
It was now around 12:30am and those that had enough willpower to stay awake had conjugated into a loose circle surrounding the couch. Jack was still occupying a seat along with Alex but their conversation had fallen silent and he was now scrolling through his phone, bored. _‘Well, so much for that little experiment’_ Tyler thought, shooting a sympathetic look at Alex who had slumped further down in his seat and was staring expressionlessly at the blank wall beside him. _‘Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be…’_ Tyler assumed sadly before moving on. |
ee8c7748199b4f76a8d3ba3f16e21139 | ['92f64a53432842c2a21d5b25bc5dc471'] |
Cherry Knots
**Author's Note:**
> Hello! First work in this fandom...don't hound on me too much! Enjoy! :DDD
"Deku, you shithead!" Katsuki yelled as he brought his fist down on Izuku's dorm door.
Izuku was perched on the edge of his bed with his hero notebook and was mumbling excitedly to himself, eyes glowing happily. His spiel came to an abrupt stop when he heard Katsuki fuming outside his door and felt dread go throughout his body. He knew exactly what his boyfriend was here for. Katsuki twisted Izuku's doorknob experimentally and scowled when the door opened. He stood there fuming as Izuku paled.
Izuku jumped off his bed and put down his notebook as Katsuki neared. "Kacchan," Izuku laughed as he nervously began to meet Katsuki at the entry. "Why are you so mad-"
Katsuki grabbed the front of Izuku's shirt and pulled him towards his face, causing Izuku to yelp as his feet lifted off the ground. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're playing at, _Deku_?" Katsuki snarled.
Izuku's face flushed as his boyfriend brought his face near to his. Katsuki kicked the door closed with his foot and took a step inside of Izuku's All Might riddled room, still holding onto his shirt.
"What are you talking about, Kacchan?" Izuku asked innocently. He laid his hands on top of the one Katsuki was using to hold him up and tugged gently at the larger hands.
Katsuki dropped Izuku and glared. He shoved his hands into his pockets to retrieve a folded napkin.
"I know you fucking put this shit on my pillow, stupid Deku." Katsuki tossed the napkin at Izuku who fumbled a bit before catching it.
Izuku opened the napkin slightly and peeked inside. Within the napkin there was a tiny little stem shaped into a knot. Izuku remembered exactly why he did what he did however, his precious, romantically inept boyfriend could not seem to get the hint.
Izuku pretended to not remember what it was and looked up to Katsuki. "Sorry, Kacchan," Izuku smiled. "I don't know what this is." He silently watched as Katsuki tried to figure out what was inside the napkin.
"Do you really not know, stupid Deku?" Katsuki muttered as he snatched the napkin from Izuku's grasp. "Then what the hell is it?" He held up the cherry knot and tilted his head to silently indicate his confusion.
Izuku bit his lip at how adorably dense his genius of a boyfriend could be.
"It's a cherry knot, Kacchan!" Izuku exclaimed excitedly as he bolted for his mini fridge. He slammed it open and began rummaging around.
Izuku was still searching through his fridge when he heard Katsuki click his tongue impatiently. "Hurry up, Deku. You're wasting my goddamn precious ti-"
"Found it!" Izuku cried out with joy. He looked at Katsuki's glaring face and stopped smiling abruptly. "Sorry for interruping, Kacchan."
Katsuki rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Whatever, shitty Deku."
Izuku turned his back to Katsuki and hid whatever he had found in front of his chest. The fridge door was kicked shut by Izuku who was continuously looking over his shoulder to see if Katsuki could see what he was carrying. All he saw was a very pissed off time bomb who was crossing his arms in an intimidating manner.
Izuku turned around and presented what he had found just as Katsuki opened his mouth. He grinned a toothy smile as Katsuki gave him a blank, unamused look.
"Cherries, Deku? Really you fucking idiot? You did," Katsuki gestured with his hands. "All of that to show me a can of fucking cherries?"
Deku nodded. "Of course, Kacchan. Have you never heard of cherry knots?" Katsuki flushed at his lack of knowledge and quickly covered his embarrassment with a scowl.
"Obviously not, retard. I wouldn't be asking you what it was if I knew what "cherry knotting" was." Katsuki folded his arms once again. "So show me what cherry knotting is, shitty Deku."
Izuku felt giddy as he crossed his legs and fell to the floor, landing with his legs crossed. He smiled up at Katsuki who felt his heart flutter at the cuteness of his small boyfriend. "Join me on the floor, Kacchan." Izuku said as he gestured him to the floor.
Katsuki let out a loud huff and he plopped onto the ground with his legs spread and socked feet touching Izuku's knees. He watched attentively as Izuku opened the can of maraschino cherries and handed one to Katsuki.
"Okay, Kacchan," Izuku chided as he grabbed his own cherry. "The first thing you have to do when knotting a cherry is eating the cherry." Izuku brought the cherry to his mouth and gently sucked it off the stem, watching Katsuki's face burn bright red at the attention.
"Yeah, whatever shitty Deku." Katsuki grumbled as he followed Izuku's actions.
Izuku swallowed the remainder of his cherry and presented the empty stem. "And now, Kacchan, you have to put the stem in your mouth." He stuck his tongue out and laid the stem on it, closing his mouth quickly after.
Katsuki felt arousal tug in the lower pit of his stomach and a tremor went through his body.
_Fuck fuck fuckity fuck this stupid fuckmunch is trying to seduce me goddammit I don't have the restraint for this shit._
Katsuki grimaced at his tightening pants and reluctantly stuck the cherry stem in his mouth. Izuku moved the stem in his mouth and Katsuki followed with chewing the stem and softening it with his saliva. He felt himself get more and more worked up as time went on.
"And now you need to tie it in a knot!" Izuku exclaimed as he shot a smile towards Katsuki.
Katsuki looked at his boyfriend as he worked his jaw around, desperately trying to knot his stem. Izuku's face lit up as he stuck his tongue out where a tiny, red knot lay in the middle. | 3479dc1f422f43499c3f496052fda620 | ['92f64a53432842c2a21d5b25bc5dc471'] |
There Is No Such Thing As Fun Without Kacchan
**Author's Note:**
> (July 15) Day One: Beach Party / Birthday / Envy
>
> Please enjoy and tell me what you think in the comments! :DD
(July 15) Day One: **Beach Party** / Birthday / **Envy**
"Don't forget to rest up! Tomorrow's going to be even rougher and I expect better results than today. Class dismissed." Aizawa grumbled his way off the sandy terrain of the beach and out of sight of the exhausted Class 1-A.
The students were collapsed on the ground, feeling the cool ocean breeze chill their perspiring skin. All except for two students, of course. Katsuki Bakugou was hunched over in a determined stance as his shaking hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Shouto Todoroki was attempting to ease the heat that was bearing down on his collapsed peers by activating his ice quirk, allowing for a gust of ice to disperse from his body in waves as he stood with his back straight and heaving.
The class had been "granted" another retreat however, this was a beach retreat and not a forest retreat. Aizawa wanted to put them through a grueling experience so that they didn't forget anything up until their next year and had decided to do that by locating them in an area of unstable terrain so that their physical bodies can be trained along with their quirks. It was an amazing training session but the entirety of Class 1-A had never had to train both body and quirk so intensively before and it thoroughly exhausted them.
Izuku was relishing in the contradictory temperatures that enveloped him, his body sinking delightedly into the comfortable warmth that the sand provided but also leaning towards the chill of Shouto's quirk. He wanted nothing more than to sleep where he lay. After a few minutes, a shadow cast over him and Izuku opened his eyes to see what had graciously blocked him from the scalding sun.
"Yo, Midoriya," Denki huffed. He was still slightly out of breath as most were, his crossed arms fidgeting as he waited for Izuku to respond.
"Do you need something?" Izuku murmured as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Denki offered a hand and Izuku latched on gratefully. His body was lazily pulled up until he was standing solidly with two feet on the ground.
"No, no, of course not! I, uh...actually, um...," Denki stuttered. He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to help out setting up and attend the beach party the class was planning on." He gestured towards the majority of the class whom was gathered around the ever-reliable air conditioner that was Shouto.
Affection towards his peers bubbled within Izuku's chest at their childish shenanigans and a toothy grin spread across his face. His head was bobbing before the words could escape him.
"Sure! Did you even have to ask?"
* * *
Izuku tied the knot at the end of the yellow-red hanging lights that he threaded and grinned happily at his accomplishment. He set it down next to the other three lights he had finished and leaned back on his hands from his sitting position. His head dropped back lazily and a deep sigh escaped him.
"Ah! Are you done, Deku?" Ochako asked. She was finishing setting up the canopy that Momo had created by utilizing her gravity quirk, making the overhead floral fabric easy to manipulate over the planted metal beams.
"Yep!" Izuku said as he made his way to his feet. "I can hang these up if you'd like, Uraraka." He began to hang the lights from end to end of the canopy with an artful diligence, making sure that all of the lights were untangled and evenly drooping.
Sunset was quickly approaching and the setting up was coming to a close. There was a long table filled from end to end with food that Tenya had run to buy and there were lounge chairs that Momo had created surrounding a bonfire that Shouto had assisted with. The sinking, warm sun cast a warm glow on Class 1-A's hard work, making the ethereal scene look as though it came from a picture book.
Everything was perfect...except for one thing. A very explosive someone was missing.
Izuku searched the faces of his classmates but as he thought, Katsuki was not among them. ' _He probably wasn't invited..._ ' Izuku thought guiltily.
All of the students were beginning to pack plates (provided by Tenya) with different foods and desserts before sitting down around the fire or standing within the canopy. Izuku glanced across the beach where two white beach houses stood and knew exactly where his Kacchan was hiding. He took a step in the direction of the houses but hesitated.
"He probably didn't want to come...he might be studying. And Kacchan would probably be angry at me for taking pity on him...but what if he actually wanted to come but no one invited him? Maybe he just wants to be alone after training...did he go immediately to the house after Aizawa-sensei dismissed us? Is he sleeping? Maybe I shouldn't get him..." Izuku felt a sharp poke at his back and jumped in surprise, turning around to see Shouto behind the small ice burst that poked him with his eyes slightly narrowed.
"Izuku, I don't think that Bakugou would want to be here. He made the conscious decision to hole himself up. Don't beat yourself up over it...it isn't worth it. I doubt that even both of us could convince him to join us." Shouto murmured as he activated his heat to melt the ice.
Izuku looked past his shoulder to look at the lonely beach houses before shrugging away his discomfort. "Yeah, you're probably right..."
Once all the ice was melted, Shouto grabbed two plates and handed one to Izuku who began to pile his food on the flimsy plastic.
* * * |
1717e4a3357b4daa91680d2f73f7cc3f | ['930024ab9fbd4f6db999ac02e01716ea'] | He stopped by his apartment and carefully stored the food in the fridge. On his way back to the hospital, he stopped by the florist and placed an order. The clerk looked puzzled but wrote up the request anyway. And in just under an hour, he was back at the hospital walking into Frannie's room just steps ahead of the nurse.
"Hey ya, Frannie."
"Good news Miss Vecchio. You're going home," the nurse announced.
"When?"
"As soon as we get the paperwork finished and you get dressed."
"Dressed? Oh my God. I came in wearing his shorts and hockey jersey. I have nothing to wear home."
"Yeah you do," Ray announced. "I stopped by Ma's and got some clothes for ya." He held up the bag so Frannie could see it.
"Thanks Ray." She beamed at him.
"Okay Miss Vecchio, let's get started on this paperwork."
The one factor that all bureaucracies have in common, be they governmental or not, is the amount of paperwork that must be filled out before even the simplest of actions can be taken. And discharging a patient who had been treated for a head injury was by no mean a simple action. To Ray and Frannie, it seemed like there were hundreds of symptoms to watch for. But Ray made sure he was crystal clear on all of them before he let Frannie sign any of the paperwork.
"The phone number is here at the bottom of this form," the nurse said. "I'm here from 8:00 to 5:00 Monday through Friday. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call me. If it's after hours, the nurse at the desk can help you."
"Greatness," Ray said.
"Thank you," added Frannie.
"You're welcome," the nurse responded before she left.
"Okay, bro, hand over that suitcase and let me get dressed so I can get the heck outa here."
"You're sure you don't need any help getting changed?" he asked.
"Ray!"
"Jeez Frannie, I didn't mean it that way. I was gonna get you a nurse or somethin'. I didn't mean me. What'd you think? That I'm some kind of pervert?"
In truth, he would have loved to have helped Frannie get dressed, but he wasn't going to admit that to her just yet. That bit of information could wait for a while.
"Oh, sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking."
"Fine. Look, I'll be just outside the door. Let me know when you're ready."
"Okay."
She watched as Ray left the room and shut the door behind him. Opening the bag, it appeared to her as if Ma had misunderstood. There were enough clothes in here for a week. It looked more like she expected her daughter to stay in the hospital than to come home. Shaking her head in disbelief, she quickly dressed and left her hospital gown on the bed.
Ray was, indeed, just outside the door. Actually, he was leaning against it and nearly fell into the room when Francesca opened it.
Frannie stifled a laugh at his clumsiness. His face was pink with embarassment and she didn't want to compound that. An orderly with a wheel chair followed Ray into the room. Gesturing grandly, he invited Frannie to sit in it so he could officially discharge her. Francesca giggled at his gallant good manners and hopped in. Soon they were at Ray's car.
He made sure that Frannie was safely belted into her seat before he stowed her bag in the back. He got into the car and started the engine, smoothly pulling away from the admitting area. It was several minutes into the drive before Francesca realized they were going in the wrong direction to take her home.
"Where are we going, Ray?"
"Back to my place."
"Oh, do we need to pick up something before I go home?"
"Nope. Dr. Santos says you need 72 hours of peace and quiet. I talked to yer Ma and she agreed that you wouldn't get that at home. So you're gonna stay at my place for a few days."
"Don't I have any say in the matter?"
"Sure you do. You say the word and I'll take you home, where you can be smothered by yer Ma and climbed over by Maria's three adorable but less than quiet children. And you can listen to Tony yell at his wife and kids all day."
"Well, when you put it that way..."
"And I've talked to Lt. Welsh. He's already authorized you to take three days of sick leave. So yer not to return to the station until Thursday."
"Boy, you've got this all worked out."
"We aim ta please."
It wasn't long before they had arrived at Ray's apartment. Frannie insisted she could climb the stairs without his help but he kept one hand near her anyway. Once inside, he settled her on the sofa and threw an afghan over her before handing her the remote control to the television and sitting down in the recliner next to the couch.
"What about you?" she asked.
"What about me?"
"Why aren't you at work?"
"I'm stayin' here to take care of you."
"Really, Ray. I only got a conk on the head. I hardly think I need a babysitter."
"Frannie, that conk on the head messed up your memory. Now the doctor said you may still be a little dizzy an' queasy so I wanna make sure you got somebody here for you. Welsh understands. And if there's anything that comes up, he knows where to call me." | 8511a452868146d7a57eb83dbf86931c | ['930024ab9fbd4f6db999ac02e01716ea'] | "Yeah well, we ain't exactly the Brady Bunch. But you're right; we ain't blood relatives either. My mom married her dad. The old man eventually adopted me but she never lets me forget that I'm not really a Vecchio."
"That's awfully cruel."
"She ain't cruel. It's really become a joke between us. The God's truth is that I couldn't love her more if we were blood relatives."
"Oh that's good."
"And the steak comment? Well, I'm a cop and sometimes she tries to pick up the lingo but she don't get it right. Like sayin' 'bustin' her steaks' instead of 'bustin' her chops'."
"Ahh, I see. Well, I'd still prefer to err on the side of caution and keep her overnight for observation. I'll send the orderlies for her as soon as a room is ready upstairs."
"Can I go see her now?"
"I was hoping you'd offer. The staff says she much nicer when you're around. And I have a feeling she won't be happy to hear we're keeping her as a guest."
He grinned at the doctor, anticipating Frannie's reaction to the news. "Yeah, she'll probably blow a gasket."
It was nearly an hour later before Francesca was settled in a room. Ray had called Ma Vecchio and let her know what had happened to Frannie. But he was unprepared for the arrival of Fraser. The Mountie strode purposefully into the room. Ray almost didn't recognize the Canadian since he wasn't wearing his usual red serge. Noticing that his friend's sister was asleep, he whispered to Ray.
"What happened?" he asked.
Ray motioned for the Mountie to follow him out into the hallway. Mindful that they were still inside the hospital, Ray spoke quietly but intently in answer to his question.
"When we left the restaurant last night, this big guy ran into us and it knocked Frannie into the wall. I took her home with me but this mornin' I could tell she wasn't actin' right so I brought her here. They say she's got a concussion and they're gonna keep her here over night."
"That seems like a wise precaution. But what do you mean that she wasn't acting right?"
"Oh man, Fraser. I'm in deep shit here. Frannie thought that I told her I was her secret admirer."
"Well then, what's the problem? She knows and you two can go on from here."
"It ain't that simple. I didn't really tell her. It was just part of this whole head trauma thing. She don't know it's really me."
"I don't follow you here, Ray."
The blonde detective shook his head and let out a sigh. "When Frannie woke up this morning she was talkin' all crazy. Sos I brought 'er here. And I told her exactly what happened last night, tryin' to help her get her memory back. Of course, that did not include me tellin' her I was the Sapphire Bicuspidor. So now she wants me to help her figure out who it is. I'm tellin' ya Fraser. I don't think I can do this any more."
"Well, Ray, as you know, I've urged you to be honest with her from the start."
"Yeah, yeah, I know that. And I wanna be honest with her. I really do. I wanna tell her how crazy I am about her but I'm afraid."
"Afraid?"
"Is there an echo in here? Yes, Frase, I'm afraid. I'm scared. I'm quiverin' in my damn boots here."
"I'm sorry Ray. I don't mean to mock you but I just don't understand what you're afraid of."
"How stupid are you?" Ray responded with some heat. "She could say no. She could tell me to take a hike. She could totally reject me. And quite frankly, after Stella, I just don't think I could take that again."
Ben watched his friend pace the hallway as he spoke. Though he'd only been partnered with Ray for a few weeks, he had learned a lot about the man. He knew about the citations for bravery that the young detective had earned. Secretly Ben was amused that the same man who earned those medals now stood cowed before one Francesca Vecchio.
"I just wish there was a way I could tell her without really tellin' her," Ray stated half under his breath.
A virtual lightbulb went on over the Mountie's head. "Ray, look, why don't you go home for a little while and get some rest?"
"Are you kiddin'? I can't leave Frannie now."
"I'll stay with Francesca. If there's any change in her condition, I'll phone you immediately. But you're not doing yourself or her any good if you keep pacing the halls exhausting yourself."
Fraser's words made sense. Ray was exhausted. He hadn't slept well last night. Thoughts of Frannie, asleep in his bed, wearing just his Blackhawks jersey, had run through his brain keeping him from sleep most of the night. He'd had thoughts and dreams about her that no brother should ever even consider with his sister. And though he knew the wisdom of his friend's advice, he was afraid that if her were alone again, the thoughts and dreams would come back.
"I don't know, Frase."
"But I do. Really just go home and rest for a couple of hours. I promise I'll call you if you're needed here."
As much as he wanted to resist, Ray allowed the Mountie to escort him out of the hospital and to his waiting car. Fraser then walked back to Francesca's room.
Ben quietly entered Francesca's room carrying a small ivy bowl that floated a single red. He placed it on the table by her bed and watched her sleep. Moments later, a nurse came in the room. Gently she shook Frannie's shoulder.
"Miss Vecchio. Wake up. Need to ask you a few questions." |
cc4e6a70da7141e6a0edfbf9c284e9a5 | ['93028097343e4296b379581ba9a60e40'] | From the ground, the group sees an argument between the two, until the moment that Draco play Remembrall away like a baseball game. And Harry flew away. Draco came down, and saw with the group, the brunnette making a quick turn on the broom, prevented from bumping against the wall of one of the towers. Harry returned to the floor, to the applause of his admiring colleagues. But the joy lasted little, for McGonagall called Potter, implying that the boy was in trouble. It was not long, and Phoenix was at her brother's side, pulling him by the ear.
"How can you do that?! Stir in what is not yours and make Harry take a scold ?! Huh?! I'm waiting for an answer!"
"Oh, oh, oh, oh. My ear! I only played a little with him. Why? Can not I mess with your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend and you're going to apologize to him later," said the girl, dropping her brother's ear.
"I'm not going to apologize to anyone!" And before the girl could say anything else, Madame Hooch appeared in the field ready to teach.
"Is anyone missing?" she asked, noting the declining numbers of students.
"Yes, Professor. Professor McGonagall came to talk to Harry, "said Hermione
"Well, if it is so. Let's begin the class."
Hours passed and news that Harry Potter would be the newest seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team took the hallways of the school. And Phoenix was on the table in the Gryffindor common room, when a group of girls whispered and screamed that Harry was the newest pride in the house. Well, not bad for a first day of class.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I hope you enjoyed. Any mistakes or lack of words just tell me. From here I wanted to show the balanced relationship between Phoenix / her brother / Gryffindors. In Philosopher's Stone, she will try to show that she is different from other Malfoys, will try to educate her brother. One thing that is not very sure, because he will be jealous of the sister with the Gryffindors, especially Harry.
4. Halloween surprise!
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This chapter was fun to write !
Days passed and Phoenix was already accustomed to Hogwarts and colleagues. In addition to Hermione, the girl became friends with Neville, Seamus and Dean, as well as occasionally exchanging information with the students of another house, mainly Slytherin. Draco, after stopping complaining about Potter being the newest seeker, introduced his sister to his two new friends, Blaise and Pansy, the latter annoying the girl with her excessive "fall of love" by Draco, but she was harmless.
It was Halloween time, and the castle was properly set up for the holiday, but that did not mean that the tasks would be diminishing for the students, on the contrary, the teachers would not stop explaining new things, increasing the workload of tasks to do, to the unhappiness of Ronald Weasley. Right now they were in the class of Professor Flitwick, the half-elf who taught spells. Being half-elf, he was short, so he used so many books to stay at the height of the class.
"One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you all have your feathers? Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing, hmm? The swish and flick. Everyone."
Everyone, including the teacher, speaks "The swish and flick."
"Good. And enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then." Ordered the teacher.
The class began to make the movement and to enunciate the word, to the spell. Everyone was trying very hard, even to the wrong way to speak Ron's spell, to catch Hermione's attention. The most unbelieving part was the way he waved his wand.
"Stop, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Levi-o-sa, not Leviosar."
"You do it then if you're so clever. Go on, go on." The redhead complained.
Hermione straightens her position in the chair and with the right way to move the wand she pronounces "Wingardium Leviosa." And the feather, at the same moment begins to float, catching the attention of the class and the teacher.
"Oh, well done! See here, everyone! Mrs. Granger's done it! Oh, splendid you too, Mrs. Malfoy!"
Ron puts his head on the books, his expression dazed. This, only encouraged the little Seamus, who began to shake his wand towards the feather. Phoenix, who was accustomed to the young man's spells go wrong, she begins to prevent him from doing.
"It's not like that, Seamus ..." but he did not care, he continued and ended in the expected explosion of the feather.
"Whooaaa! Ooh." said Flitwick, startled.
The destruction was stamped on Seamus's face and a little on the cheeks of his respective colleagues on each side, which were Harry and Phoenix. The feather was all scorched.
"I think we're going to need another feather over here, Professor." Said Harry.
Hermione and Phoenix walked together talking about the newest spell learned and laughing at Seamus's mistake. The girls laughed smiles on their faces until they heard Ron complain about Hermione to his friends.
"It's Levioooosa, not Leviosaaaar. She's a nightmare, honestly. Nowonder she hasn't got any friends!"
And Hermione feeling offended, went out in front of her friend, bumping into the redhead's purpose.
"I think she heard you."
"Not only did she listen, but she was hurt. And nothing that is any of your business, she has friends, me. See you, Wealsey. "
And Ron definitely did not like being repressed by a Malfoy. | a0cbb0c74ef84140a4d1b503f84d47a7 | ['93028097343e4296b379581ba9a60e40'] | After hitting the book against her brother's arm, Phoenix declared absolute silence in the cabin. The afternoon had fallen a little more and from far away came peaks of the castle towers, there they changed their clothes. When they had finished, the train was already slowing down a little, to a full stop. As they got out of the car, they were greeted by a giant named Hagrid. He led them to the edge of the lake where there was a pier full of boats. Divided between Crabbe, Goyle and Draco, and Phoenix with two other students, a boy and a girl, they set out to cross the lake. With the fog down, the towers and torches of the castle, showed themselves to the students, who opened their mouths in surprise. Hagrid escorted them to the main gate of the castle, and with instructions to climb the stairs, the students met a lady with green witches clothes and half-moon glasses under her eyes and a pointed hat on her head.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
At that moment Draco turned to his sister and together they smiled. At the same time, the blonde sees a tan with shaggy hair, round glasses and a scar in the shape of lightning. It was him, Harry Potter. And nudging his sister and he nodded at the boy.
"Now while you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."
A chubby, toothy kid, he finally saw his frog at the teacher's feet.
"Trevor!" and with the silence, the boy realized the bludgeon he gave. The teacher's eyes already spoke for themselves.
"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." And she goes to the great hall.
"It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."
Students began to whisper.
"This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy and this is ..." but the blond did not continue, for a redhead at the side of the brunnette laughed at his name.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."
The girl did not like the redhead laughing at her brother's name, but he did not need to humiliate him.
"Draco, you do not need that. But well, you did not have to laugh. After all, my name is Phoenix, I'm his sister. I hope my name is funny enough. "
The redhead was all ashamed after her lecture.
"He did not mean to offend." Harry explained
"I know. I did not want to give a sermon either, but it came out. I'm impulsive. "And back, the teacher was with a list in her hand. "We're ready for you now. Follow me."
The doors opened and four tables were in the middle of the room. On the ceiling, candles flew and illuminated the sky that appeared inside the castle. The girl in front of the Phoenix was the one who was looking for the frog earlier. She was explaining the effect of the ceiling. The front, up the steps, a bench was found with a hat worn on top of him. The teachers' table stood in front of the bench.
"Will you wait along here, please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."
A gentleman with white hair and beards, with a pair of glasses in the middle of his nose, rose from the main table.
"I have a few start of term notices I wish to annouce. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the 3rd floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does to wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."
And so he sat down. The teacher opened the parchment.
"When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger."
The girl came out nervous, talking to herself. Phoenix hears the redhead saying something to Harry, but she paid no attention. Gryffindor was heard from the hat, and the table was filled with applause.
"Draco Malfoy."
And with a quick exchange of glances, the blonde sat down with courage and determination.
"Slytherin!"
And with the last exchange of glances with his sister, the blonde went to the table.
"There isn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin." The redhead said, and this time Phoenix heard him. Tired of the redhead's prejudice, she decided to answer.
"Prejudice is very ugly did you know? Other good wizards came out of houses like Slytherin. I see there's no pattern here. "And the redhead swallowed dry.
"Phoenix Malfoy."
The young woman hoped that the choice of house would be the same as her brother's, quick. But as soon as the hat was put on her head, he lingered to speak, as if he were still analyzing the person.
"A Malfoy and a Black. Strong blood runs through your veins, I must tell you that you would be perfect in every house, for you represent each of them. That never happened to me. Yes ... yes, but one predominates. I already know. Gryffindor! " |
96d8d7f57ba84cea92f19ad0c30b97e0 | ['9303479020464812afa563ea69ba84af'] | “Dude, come on, I can’t clean up your cut with your shirt on.” The man continued to squint until he gave up and took off his trench coat, suit jacket, and dress shirt. Dean almost wanted to groan in annoyance, of course the guy was fucking fit as a fiddle and even with the gross blood he still looked hot. Dean also remember the guy claimed to be an angel of the lord.
“Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to hell now. “ He mumbled before he got to work. He started by blotting the cut to stop any bleeding that continued. After that, he took a damp wash cloth and wiped the dried blood from the skin around it. “Okay, I’m going to start disinfecting it okay? It’s going to sting and hurt a little.” The man gave a small nod and Dean took another washcloth and put a bunch of disinfectant on it, you can never be too careful and he doesn’t want this guy to get an infection and then blame him. He gently panted the wound with the cloth, this earned a hiss of pain from the man and Dean could see that he was clenching his jaw. Dean muttered a ‘sorry’ before continuing until he was satisfied with his work. He picked up the needle and thread, his mother gave them to him when he first moved across town, he had no idea why, it’s not like he regularly got into knife fights, but her lessons and her supplies came in handy.Dean cleaned the needle like his mother taught him and threaded it. He looked the man in the eyes and the man nodded, so he started stitching him up. It was weird and he thanked God it wasn’t a wide gash because Dean didn’t think he could do this for much longer. As he was finishing and cleaning up he decided that it was time that Dean got some answers from the guy.
“So which angel are you?” He asked as he started to put away the supplies that he didn’t need to clean.
“Castiel.” The angel, Castiel, replied simply.
Dean nodded, thinking back to all the angel stories his mom told him as a kid. “I’m Dean.” He smiled, “Aren’t you the angel that just watches everything happen but you don’t interfere?”
“Normally, yes. For some reason, I was sent to earth and unfortunately I was in the ‘wrong place, wrong time’ as you humans say.” Castiel did air quotes around the phrase and Dean tried so hard to not find it adorable.
“Do you remember where you got stabbed? Like any landmarks?” Dean was now sitting on the coffee table across from where Castiel was sitting on the couch.
Castiel thought for a moment, “I remember the smell of alcohol and greasy food. I also heard some terrible singing before I fled.”
Dean laughed, “You were by The Roadhouse, it was karaoke night.” Castiel looked confused at karaoke and Dean was too tired to explain. Then, Dean realized how far The Roadhouse really was from his home. “Wait, The Roadhouse is like twenty minutes away from here by car! And you walked? There are a bunch of houses from there to here, why didn’t you stop at any of those?”
Castiel shrugged, “I’m not sure, my grace was pulling me towards this house and I stopped when I got here.”
Dean rubbed his face, this was mystery that was going to have to wait to be solved tomorrow. Dean glanced at the clock and groaned when he realized it already was tomorrow and nearing two am. Patching Castiel up took a lot more time than Dean expected.
“We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, Castiel. We both need some sleep, I’ll grab you some clean clothes and you can sleep in the guest room.”
“Are you sure, Dean? I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Castiel played a stray thread that was on his trench coat that was resting on his lap. it was kinda cute, seeing an angel of the lord nervous to ask to stay in Dean’s home. Dean mentally kicked himself for thinking that, it’s not that he’s in the closet, not even close, he is very openly and proudly bisexual, he just doesn’t want to develop some weird crush on an angel that is staying over at his house. He also doesn’t know if God will strike him down for thinking anything non-platonic about one of his angels.
“Yeah man, it’s not problem. I have the room and you are in no condition to be wandering the streets. ” The thought even scares Dean a little, what if the attacker found Castiel again?
Castiel nodded and smiled, “Then, I will stay. Thank you, Dean.”
Dean mumbled out a no problem and went to his bedroom to find a t-shirt and sweatpants for the angel to wear. He had a pair of sweats that were too small for him and a t-shirt that he didn’t mind parting with. He also decided to grab a towel so the angel could at least dry himself off, Dean was going to deal with the task of explaining how to shower without getting his injury too wet tomorrow.
When he returned, he gave the clothing to Castiel and directed him to the guest room before realizing that the other may have never slept before.
The expression on his face must have soon his thought because he didn’t even get a word out before Castiel huffed out a laugh and said , “Yes, I know how to sleep, I’ve been watching humanity since it’s creation and I know how to change my clothes. Thank you very much, Dean and goodnight.”
“Oh yeah, no problem. G’night, Cas.” Dean yawned and waved as he went to his own bedroom. He finally laid down, it was two-fifteen am and Dean was trying to not freak out how he gave an angel of the lord a freaking nickname. He was hoping to whatever God was listening that Castiel didn’t notice it. | 8469ca2d4f094d81adc8730abc9ba29c | ['9303479020464812afa563ea69ba84af'] | My Roommate's Brother Is Hot
**Author's Note:**
> Based off of this post: http://luninosity.tumblr.com/post/131986762509/overhead-while-walking-to-the-parking-lot-on
> this is short but id figure i would post it anyway!
> tumblr post: http://puunkcas.tumblr.com/post/146514436774/based-off-of-this-post-thank-you-to-destihecker
Dean followed Charlie out of lecture that just finished, Charlie was animatedly talking about how their professor should have given her a better grade on the paper that she actually worked hard on when Dean blurted out, “I think my roommate’s older brother is hitting on me.”
Charlie stopped in her tracks, “Wait what? What makes you say that?”
He sighed and continued to walk, “I don’t know, he’s helping with Samandriel’s part of the rent but now he’s covering my part too. He wants to hang out, even when his brother isn’t even there and yesterday, he went to get Sam’s books for next semester and asked if I wanted to come along. I assumed he offered because I was talking about having to ride my bike to the bookstore and wanted to be nice, but no, he bought my books for me too! Well, not all of them because I barely know the guy and I would feel guilty! Then we went to this diner and he bought me dinner too.” Dean hunched his shoulders and looked over at Charlie who had a grin forming on her face.
“Oh my God, Dean! Is he hot?”Charlie was full on grinning now, she was basically bouncing.
Dean blushed a little and shook his head, “I mean, yeah kinda, I guess? I mean, I wouldn’t know.”
Charlie laughed for a few seconds, “Wait, he’s not all creepy and weird is he?”
“What? No, dude, he’s really chill, actually. He’s super smart, he’s like a CEO or something and he’s always willing to help out and he-”
Charlie cut him off with a gasp, “Oh my God! You like him don’t you? You have a crush on your roommate’s brother!”
Dean shushed her, “Jesus, Charlie, you want people on Mars to hear you? And no, I don’t like him! I’m not gay!”
“No, but you could be bisexual! I’ve seen the way you look at Dr. Sexy and Han Solo and it’s not in heterosexual way.”
Dean stopped walking, “Fuck. Maybe I do like him okay?” Dean stopped walking and hung his head. Charlie patted his back.
“It’s okay, bro. Just think, you could be dating a CEO!”
Dean just groaned and looked to the sky.
xxxxx
Later that night, Dean was laying on the couch watching some random documentary he found, when there was a knock on the door. He sighed, it probably was just Samandriel who was out for the night and forgot his keys. He stood up and opened the door. “Dude, we need to tie the key around your wrist.” He looked up and definitely did not see Samandriel standing there. It was his brother. “Oh, hey Cas. Uh, Samandriel isn’t here right now so…” His voice trailed off.
Cas smiled, “I’m actually here to see you, Dean. If that’s alright?”
Dean nodded quickly, “Uh yeah, of course. Come in.” Cas smiled again and walked into the small apartment, fiddling with the ends of his coat sleeves.
“So, uh, Dean, I just came here to ask you something.” Dean has never seen Cas this nervous before. Cas took another breath and started talking before Dean could say anything. “Would you go out to dinner with me? Like a date?” Cas rushed out the last part of his sentence that Dean almost didn’t understand it. Dean opened his mouth to answer but Cas was already talking again.
“I mean I know I’m older than you by a few years and you are living with Samandriel and I don’t want you to think that I’m only asking you out because you are younger and attractive, well you are, but that isn’t the reason I’m asking you out. You are smart, caring, and even more than I probably deserve.” Cas trialed off his ramblings and blushed.
Dean smirked, “Wow, Cas, you really know how to charm a guy.” He laughed softly, “But yes, I would love to go to dinner with you.” Cas’ face lit up and he grinned, “Is Friday good with you? I know it’s a little soon, but I’ve been dying to go on a date with you.”
“Friday is perfect. On one condition though, I get to pay.”
Cas frowned slightly, “Dean, I don’t mind paying, you should save your money.”
Dean shook his head, “Cas, you pay my rent, you bought most of my books, and you bought me dinner before. Let me at least pay for this.”
Cas sighed, “Fine, only this once.” He smiled and gave Dean a kiss on the cheek.
Dean smiled softly and asked, “So.. do you want to stay and watch this documentary with me? I have no idea what it’s about though.” Cas laughed and nodded, “I would love to, Dean.”
Samandriel found them later that night asleep and cuddling as much as two grown men could on a small couch. He smiled, he shook his head as he shut off the tv and quietly left the room. |
5dce6ae203f947e7af261a76ba216353 | ['930cb121ffa94cc598a15f933886198a'] | Tearful Tracks
**Author's Note:**
> Hi, this is my interpretation of the ending of Lily and Severus's friendship. Hope you guys like it! :)
**Disclaimer: I don't own the HP characters.**
* * *
**Tearful Tracks**
* * *
Red hair veiled the inked parchments spread out on the oak desk as she hunched over. The quill strained in her grasp. Finally, Lily let go, and watched it skitter across. That’s all Lily did. She watched Petunia call her a freak and walked away. She watched Severus get bullied by James Potter and his gang, and walked away. Then she watched Severus fall into the string of Death Eaters, and walked away. Eventually she watched Severus call her a mudblood, and walked away. Why should now be any different?
Lily sighed. Even now, Lily still couldn’t believe how fast things came and went without a backward glance. Only an hour ago Lily broke away all attachments from Severus. For a moment, Lily’s vision crumbled and she forced herself to glance outside the window into the darkness. The remote blackness gazed back at her, hollow and devoid of emotion. Lacking the usual warmth, that Lily had become acquainted with, during their nightly walks under the stars.
Water trickled down the misty glass like tearful tracks, incomplete without the other half, blurred beyond recognition. Her eyes followed a single drop, vacant and bare, leaving a spoilt trail of dried pasty fruit. Just like Lily did when Severus begged her to come back to him.
Twinkling laughter pulled Lily’s gaze from the drizzling rain to the smiling and glittering bright eyes of young girls and boys closely huddled together, embracing each other’s heat. The kind that could only come from someone you love. Lily’s throat throbbed like she’d just swallowed one of Trelawney’s crystal balls. Linked hands peeked through between the gaps formed from a circle of friends. A sickly sour taste clogged Lily’s mouth. Lily looked away. That used to be her and Severus. Now all Lily saw were stains that never washed away, just as much the arguments between her and Severus never seemed to thin.
_“Lily! Lily stop!”_
_She tucked her arms against her chest and dropped her head. Lily never once lost her stride. She was sick of listening, sick of waiting. “Why should I Severus? What’s stopping me from not walking away?”_
_“Lily, please! Don’t.” Something in his voice made her hesitate._
_She turned back to glance at him. His black hair stuck to his face and hung like curtains around his face. He kept shifting his hands from his pockets to his sides, black eyes searching hers, pleading with her. “Give me a reason.”_
_“R–r–reason,” She watched as he stared at her in bemusement. Lily hated herself then, when a spark of guilt struck her cold. So instead of looking at Severus, Lily focused her attention on the trees behind him, snapping and crackling in the breezy wind. “Lily, you can’t expect me to leave the dark arts, it’s the only thing I’m good at.”_
_Subsequently, Lily refocused her gaze on his. “Find something else.” Lily crossed her arms more from the chill than from anything else and pointedly glared at him._
_“I can’t Lily.” He looked so broken then that Lily didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave it. “Besides, I’m not doing anything wrong.” The sudden warmth that had gripped her heart a moment earlier disappeared and was replaced with an aching truth, that within itself made Lily snap once again._
_“You are Sev.”_
_He grit his teeth and curled his hands into fists. Not yet understanding why she wasn’t jumping in his favour. “And James Potter isn’t?”_
_Lily rubbed her face, for once tired. “Why don’t you drop it Severus?” She narrowed her eyes at him belligerently. “I just don’t understand your fascination over dark curses. What’s so special about it anyway?”_
_“You can just lose yourself without fearing the consequences.” A blank film covered his eyes making him deaf to the world._
_“Maybe that’s the problem,” whispered Lily._
The reason him and her never met eye to eye. Lily could never break those threads that always lead Severus back to the darkness. Maybe if she had cut that thread sooner, there might have been a chance. But as always, all Lily ever did was walk away. | 9006baff0b7c4d95b55c4357911a30eb | ['930cb121ffa94cc598a15f933886198a'] | Snape nostrils flared. His hand itched to grab his wand so he could curse him. “ _How dare you_?” He was tempted to hurl himself at Lupin. The blood churning in his veins. But his focus fixed elsewhere. Snape whirled.
Dumbledore materialised from the fireplace. His red and gold robes swayed above his buckled boots. Those devilish bright blue orbs usually twinkling underlined worry, wariness and something between cunning and master creativity. Dumbledore was known for his secretive nature so it was no surprise to Snape that he chose this moment to skip straight to the point after swiftly taking his seat behind the desk.
“Bearing in mind Remus’s condition, certain precautions are needed to be taken care of. As you are aware Severus, I am in need of your services. I recommend that you create a wolfsbane potion for Mr. Lupin.”
Snape scowled. Of course he would have to do it for the mutt. Dumbledore wasn’t exactly going to give him the chance to goad him if he is being careful. He reluctantly bowed his head drawing his gaze on Dumbledore longer than was necessary. Neither broke eye contact and it was to him that Dumbledore spoke first, “If you would please Severus. I have further business with Lupin.”
The head of Slytherin house stood up gracefully, hands spread on the desk but didn’t leave without stating his opinion. “Headmaster, a murderer is on the loose.”
“I’m well aware Severus,” Dumbledore looked calmly back at him.
“Do you think it _wise_ to allow a _werewolf_ , “he said with revulsion- “in _this_ school, especially considering their history? Aren’t you afraid that Black will be able to have free reigning, resulting in his presence within the boundaries of the castle walls?”
“Have you forgotten, Severus,” Dumbledore tipped his body forward, his hands cupped on the desk. Snape detected a glimpse of irony his eyes, “Help will only be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. In this case Severus, Mr. Black won’t be able to set foot in this castle while I’m here. And again, always remember. I will only truly have left when none here are loyal to me.”
Snape’s jaw clenched but otherwise kept quiet. With the flap of his cloak he swept out of the room cursing as he left.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> The portraits slept through all of that, Lol.
5. Predictable, Protective Proclivity
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I know it's been long, sorry been busy with stuff. Here's the next one. Hope you guys enjoy! :)
**Disclaimer: I don't own HP characters and the marvelous world J.K so beautifully created.**
* * *
** Predictable, Protective Proclivity… **
“Don’t know what he was thinking?” McGonagall leaned back in her chair rolling the glass globe in her hand, her thin lips tightening. “He was lucky my students weren’t harmed. Completely foolish! Isn’t there anyone left with brains anymore?” she shook her head and resumed rolling the globe. The sound of it smacking the table echoed through the room.
Silence greeted her. Dumbledore stared intently into the fire, the orange flames dancing in his eyes masking their brightness. Remus glanced at Flitwick flicking through a piece of blank parchment. Odd. The smacking had stopped. He turned to the front watching McGonagall scribble and mark down on pieces of parchment, the globe now sat still nearby.
Remus didn’t know what to think about the incident, he struggled with what to believe. He wanted to be certain about Sirius, confident in his conviction that it left no room for doubt, but life wasn’t being easy on him. Could it really be like everyone thought? Remus knew there was no evidence to the contrary, but despite this he could not help but ask himself why Sirius didn’t kill Harry if that was in fact his intention. It made no sense. Of course, he could easily blame Sirius and save himself the headache. However, he needed to know – _what was the truth and what were the lies?_ They’d been merged and twisted to such an extent that it had become hard to separate the two.
“How could he have let him in?” she threw her hands up breaking the silence. Remus got the feeling Dumbledore already suspected that it was only a matter of time before she exploded. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, mouth twitching at the corners. “Did he not hear the news? Is that armor of his too tight for him? I suppose I could do some tampering. That way his ears and eyes will be open. A little silent charm wouldn’t hurt. He talks far too much for my taste.”
“Now Minerva,” Dumbledore interrupted eyes glinting mischievously. “You aren’t planning to incapacitate him next. Dare I say he’ll be no use to us otherwise?”
“Sir Cadogan,” she lifted her chin, “will do just fine without his tongue.”
“Don’t you think you’re going a bit too far Minerva?” said Flitwick scrutinizing her face.
“I don’t think so Filius,” lips pressed together, she said, “Did you find him?” Her gaze directed on Dumbledore - Remus tried not to flinch.
Dumbledore briefly looked at him. “Unfortunately Minerva, Mr Black would not have been foolish enough to lurk behind while the castle was being searched. I did, however, give strict instructions to ensure the safety of the students.” His gaze trailed around the room, eyes piercing each and every one of them.
Remus kept his expression blank but he suspected that wouldn’t fool anyone. They all knew how close he and Sirius were. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed McGonagall frown at Dumbledore.
“Do you think he will return, Albus?” she said as she settled the quill down and leaned forward.
Dumbledore sighed, mouth puckered, “I think it’s safe to say-” |
fa2111265431479aa991df53f8f3db0f | ['9316d6a7f5964f8facd9f341d3ec9257'] | When Yukina stayed over on the Mitake household the night before, she saw her glasses laying on the table. Her girlfriend is quite the heavy sleeper, so taking it from her was a breeze. Of course, she's going to return it later.
Not surprisingly, Yukina looks great wearing them. She a looks great at everything she wears, for that matter. She looks like some genius, when in reality she only has one braincell and it revolves around music.
When Yukina's satisfied, she proceeds on her way to her classroom. There were lots of stares and gasps in her direction, but Yukina didn't pay attention to such.
Yukina wants only the attention of one girl, and that girl is none other than her girlfriend Ran Mitake.
Meanwhile, later...
"Huh? Where'd my glasses go?" Ran murmurs to herself as she shuffles through her bag, looking for it.
Tsugumi seems to notice Ran's frantic fumbling, "Ran-chan? What's up?"
"I can't find my glasses. I could've sworn I put them in my bag... Great, now I can't read anything."
Moca chimes in the conversation, "Why do you need to see the board when all you need to see is the beauty of the great Moca-chan~?"
Ran immediately turns to Moca and glares at her. "Shut up."
"So meaaaaaan~. Maybe a burger came into your house, Ran~?"
"Burger? Moca, you're not making any sense."
Tsugumi has a concerned look on her face; they're bickering again. "Ahaha... I think Moca-chan meant burglar."
"Doubt it. Wouldn't a burglar steal my money instead of my glasses?"
Before the girls could continue their discussion about Ran's missing glasses, the teacher reprimands them for talking in class. In response, they softly apologize.
_Ring, ring._
The school bell rings, signalling the start of lunch break at last. All of Afterglow decides to eat lunch together, the same as always. But this time, they're eating at the school cafeteria. They settle towards one table in the corner that's big enough to fit all five of them.
Tomoe starts the conversation howling with laughter. "Hahahaha! You all got scolded for talking in class and the only person I'm sorry for is Tsugu!"
Ran glares. "Tomoe, shut up!"
"Not our fault—"
"Onee-chan!" Ako calls out to Tomoe as she runs towards the Afterglow table, with Yukina slowly walking next to her.
"Ako! What's up?" Tomoe raises her hand to hi-five with Ako, to which the younger siblings responds to immediately. Then she notices Yukina. "Oh, hey Minato-san! Nice glasses."
"Thank you."
Ran perks up and turns her head to where Tomoe's looking at, like a little puppy in love. Her eyes widened at the glasses... because that's HER glasses! Hell, Ran couldn't even get mad because she looked so cute in them.
"Y-Y-Yukina..." Ran stops functioning as her face flushes a deep red. It feels like it was just the two of them, because her brain decided to blur out everyone else.
"Hm?" Yukina has a subtle smirk on her face; she can easily tell that she successfully charmed Ran. But she still plays innocent. "Do you want your glasses back?"
Ran, however, is far too lovestruck to take her glasses back. "Y-You c-c-can have them for the w-whole day. I-It's not a b-big deal."
Yukina soflty chuckles before stealing a quick kiss from Ran's lips. She wants to kiss her girlfriend more, but she can't because they're at school. "Alright. Ako, let's go."
"Coming, Yukina-san! Bye Onee-chan and everyone else in Afterglow!!"
Yukina winks at Ran before walking away. "I'll see you after school, baby."
"...S-See you..."
The moment they leave, everyone else in Afterglow is staring at Ran. Ran is still looking outside, blushing.
At the count of three, Tomoe and Moca shout at the same time. "GAY!"
"S-SHUT UP!!"
28. Alcohol
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> A drunk Yukina randomly crashes into her girlfriend's house at 3AM.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> My apologies, I'm REALLY bad with chapter titles.
>
> Hi, please assume they're in the legal age to drink in this chapter! Thanks to my friend Ame for their big brain!
>
> To the person who commented the prompt, I'm still trying to think of something! ><
Annoyed, Ran rises from her bed and rubs her eyes. Who the hell could possibly be awake at three in the morning, banging on her door???? She groggily walks to her door like a zombie, not even trying to fix her appearance.
Before Ran could say anything, she's greeted by arms wrapping around her.
"Raaaaaannnn...~" the person buries her face on Ran's shoulder, nuzzling closer.
Ran's starting to slowly come to her senses. In front her is the lavender-haired girl she loves so much, except she smells like alcohol. Nonetheless, she slowly reciprocates the girl's hug.
"What the...? Yukina?!"
"Yeeeeeessss? I'm Yukinyaaaaaa, Ran's beloved wifeeeeeey~"
Ran is beyond surprised. Her girlfriend is like an entirely different person under the influence of alcohol. WHY is she even on alcohol in the middle of the night?
Yukina lets go of Ran and starts rolling on the floor for some reason. She's cute, but... why?
Suddenly, Ran's phone rings... to which Ran answers instantly the moment she sees who's calling.
"Lisa-san, I need answers. Why is Yukina—"
_"Woah, woah! Calm down! Okay, listen. Yukina and I were actually playing a game involving alcohol in her house, but unlike me she's very weak to alcohol."_
"Then how did she get to my house?"
_"...I brought her there. Okay, in my defense, she wouldn't calm down unless she sees you! She keeps yelling 'I MISS MY WIFE', so I had to! I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but please take care of her!"_
"...Fine." Ran then drops the call... Wait, where did Yukina go? Ugh... This felt like babysitting a kid... She reminds herself she'll scold Yukina tomorrow.
Ran finds Yukina is in her kitchen, she's... drawing on an egg with a marker?! Unbelievable... | bb3c704f9fff453597616d159f28eb87 | ['9316d6a7f5964f8facd9f341d3ec9257'] | _Oh, it's on. Fuck being all mushy and embarrassed,_ thought Ran. "No." Ran then pulled Yukina's school uniform necktie to bring the person of desire closer to her, and slammed her lips towards the elder's.
There it was, the kind of sweet that Ran wanted. So bad. Yukina's lips taste like candy Ran could get addicted to all day. The expression on Yukina's face made it even better. She was blushing, her eyes wide like saucers, and most importantly... she lost in her own game.
They pulled apart the moment they heard a cough, "Y-Your order is ready... t-t-thanks for waiting!" With that, an embarrassed Tsugumi laid the milkshake down and left.
The milkshake was a rather big glass cup, with two bending straws on the opposite end of the milkshake. The drink was white in color, and it was topped with whipped cream and a cherry.
"T-Thanks for the food." Yukina went ahead, sipping the refreshment. Ran then followed after, and the two drank their milkshake until it was finished.
"Mitake-san, open your mouth." Yukina told her.
"Before that, c-can we call each other by first name...?"
"Mi— R-Ran. Open your mouth, please." Yukina said it again, and Ran happily obliged. Then Yukina grabbed the red fruit and put it on Ran's mouth.
"Thanks. But Y-Yukina, there's something on your face." says Ran. Yukina was about to grab the tissue, but Ran's hand stopped her. "Let me."
Again, Ran pulled Yukina closer and licked the drops of milkshake near her lips. "T-There. All done." Ran then let out a contented smile.
Ran thought that maybe sweets aren't bad at all. Or is it just Yukina? Either way, Ran was happy with how this day turned out.
8. Would A Morning Kiss Do the Trick?
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Ran and her girlfriend Yukina spent the night together at the Mitake household. Ran, being the heavy sleeper she is, refuses to get up in the morning. How will Yukina wake her up?
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This is, like, the shortest one I have ever written.
On a Saturday morning, Yukina woke up to the sunlight shining through the window. Her girlfriend's arms and legs were wrapped around her, like a koala. She rubbed her eyes; her vision gradually clearing up. She looked around her surroundings, which was Ran's house.
Then she looked at the spot next her, and there was her girlfriend, fast asleep. Yukina tried to leave the bed, only to get pulled back in.
"Mmmm..." Ran sleepily groaned and cuddled Yukina tighter, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Don't... leave..."
Yukina turned to face the girl in question and said, "You idiot. It's already morning."
"Yukina's idiot..."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I love you too. Now, get up." Yukina then repeatedly poked on Ran's cheek. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."
"Five more minutes... Yukina..."
Yukina sighed in defeat, and gave in. This was quite nice, after all. "Fine. Be grateful I love you." she then snuggled even closer to Ran, and played with her hair. Her short, jet black locks are satisfying to the touch. She stroked it, gently pulled on it, and even braided it.
And so, what remains of the five minutes when Yukina was done with the younger's hair... was spent on staring at her (sort of) angelic face. Her hair was now messy all over, and there was drool dripping from her mouth.
"Ran, your five minutes is up." Yukina softly told her.
"I don't wanna......"
"Please?" Yukina begged but Ran still didn't budge.
_You know what,_ Yukina had enough of this shit, so she slapped Ran's cheek hard enough to wake her up.
"I'M UP!!!" Ran jolted up in surprise, which followed by a glare into Yukina's eyes. "What was that for? It hurts??????" Ran was rubbing the cheek that Yukina slapped.
"I'm sorry, I had to wake you up."
"Ughhh..." Ran groaned. She didn't want to be awake. She wanted to fall back asleep. She scratched her head in irritation, considering her sleep has been interrupted rudely.
_ **"Would a morning kiss do the trick?"**_ Yukina cupped Ran's cheek and put her lips on Ran's. Ran then held Yukina's waist to pull her closer.
Then they pulled away, smiling at each other.
"Yes, your morning kiss did do the trick. Now, shall we have breakfast?" says Ran.
"Please." Yukina then took Ran's hand and went downstairs together.
9. They Say the Secret Ingredient is... Rivalry?
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Ran, out of sheer curiosity, tried out baking lessons at Hazawa Café. But little did she know that a certain someone would be there as well. The person she hated so, so much and would absolutely never ever date. (Or so she says.) How would things turn out this way?
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I had to search for a recipe online just for this. 😂 But I sort of used the exact wording—
>
> (https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/ultimate-chocolate-chip-cookies/77c14e03-d8b0-4844-846d-f19304f61c57)
Ran gently opened the door of the all too familiar café that was owned by the parents of her childhood friend and bandmate. It was obviously none other than Hazawa Café.
Upon opening the door, Ran was greeted by the ever-so-cheerful Tsugumi. "Ran-chan! Hello! It's just you at the moment though, but it's about to start in five minutes."
"Hogging the entire class to myself is kind of nice. That way, no one but you can watch me mess up."
"Ahaha! Please, help yourself to a cookie!" Tsugumi grabbed the plate of the delectable, brown sweets in her hand and gave it to the vocalist. "For this class, you will be baking... cookies!"
"Okay." Ran cooly responded while staring at the door. It was one minute left, and no one still came.
Well, that was until the door opened and a chime of the bell was heard. And the person was...
...Minato Yukina. |
cfdc711a96ee4d9aab552d39a5c5274b | ['9331966d1f244990901d7298fcffc462'] | For a moment, Enji danced in her vision, long limbs striding about. Until Shouto turned and she shook herself awake. The tree she had rested against seemed at the time to be the ideal spot to nap. It was nice, one of the very common sunny days of the Northern realm. The smell of lavender and mint kept in the breeze as her eyelids drooped in contentment.
“They get along nicely.” Inko breathes, sitting to her right. “Zuki really loves being around him. He cries whenever Shouto isn’t out to play.” It had been nearly five years since her escape, and it was nearing on Shouto’s fifth birthday. Despite his resemblance to his father, she couldn’t help but love her son deeply and wholeheartedly.
The two figures had their hands intertwined tightly as they skipped and twirled about the long grass. “It’s sweet.” Rei smiles, watching Shouto catch Izuku before he fell. “Shouto loves him more than anything. “There wasn’t a waking moment in their little cottage that Shouto didn’t talk of Izuku.
Inko’s hands moved skillfully in her weaving, a craft Rei herself learned to enjoy in the passing years. “How do you feel about the upcoming moon? Do you think Shouto is going to make the change?” It had always been a growing concern for parents with children under five. Typically their powers and lycanthropy presented at the same time, making it unmanageable for the first moon. With the past moon, Shouto had gained both of his parents heritage and from his confessions of his skin itching and a heat taking hold, she didn’t doubt that Shouto would be experiencing his change next to Fuyumi this coming week.
“He’s showing symptoms.” She provides. “I’ll get Fuyumi to show him the ropes since this is going on her eighth year of change.” Inko’s face fell at the confirmation of her words, but a smile still remained.
“Toshinori typically takes all the pups out on their first moons to teach them the responsibility of their status and power. He’s still recovering from Katsuki’s first change two moons ago, but I’m sure he’d love to show Shouto.” In her kingdom and Enji’s, the change had been a private family matter. Changing was painful, and it weakened you in the initial transformation so it wasn’t shared with a large group. Rei liked how free it was here.
“I’m sure Shouto would absolutely adore spending his first change with Izuku.”
“About that…” Inko chimed nervously. “Zuki won’t be making the change afterall. The sweating was due to a slight cold and he doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of his father’s power. It was a little disappointing, but we still love him all the same.”
It was a darling statement, and Rei was glad she had been here when Natsuo didn’t make the change, it was a disappointment she didn’t think Enji could handle well.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“The moon is coming.” They sat at the edge of the pond, fishing poles held in between their legs as Izuku swung his back and forth. “Kacchan got his powers, but mine didn’t show up. I don’t feel itchy either. Mom says if I’m a wolf I’m gonna be really itchy.” Shouto rubbed at his arms, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Despite this, it still stayed under the surface of his skin. If Izuku didn’t feel that way, neither would he. “Kacchan is supposed to look after me now that he gets em’. His mom is the leader of the protectors. She’s the coolest wolf! She guards me and Mom all the time. But now Kacchan has to guard me and I think he's really mad about it.” Shouto bumped shoulders with him, catching his eye as he swayed back and forth.
“If I turn into a wolf I’ll protect you forever. That way you have a protector that loves you a lot.” The heat rose in Izuku’s cheeks and he fiddled with his hands.
“Protectors don’t have to love you, Shochan.”
Shouto’s gaze found the lake, watching the light reflect off the water’s edge. “I think it’s good if they do. Then they’re fighting for the right reason.”
“If you turn into a wolf and you still want to, you can be my protector.” he murmurs it almost to himself. “But you don’t have to! I don’t wanna bother you, since it bothers Kacchan!” Shouto turned to him, cupping his cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. His mom did it when he became upset, and it had always worked when he did it to Izuku.
“I like being here Zuki. I’d share all the strawberries in the gardens with you.” Everyone knew that Shouto loved strawberries and could basically live off of them. He refused to share them with even his mother.
“Really?”
“Yup.” he stated simply. “If it means we get to play together and you smile a lot, I’d give you all of them forever.” Izuku flushed brighter.
“You haven’t been itchy, so maybe you won’t have to be my protector.” Shouto sighed and rubbed at his arms again. It was coming soon, he could feel it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The past few nights had him tossing and turning, his skin crawling with calls from the woods. Older wolves made the change early, keeping form for nearly a week a month with the ability to change back for an hour at a time. Fuyumi had almost reached that stage, finding solace in the dense woods for five days now.
Toshinori kept in the thicket near their cottage almost every night, waiting. Shouto knew of the upcoming happenings. It was only a matter of time. Izuku wouldn’t be changing with him, and when the first few pangs of transformation hit him, he was absolutely glad. | 3c653b426796411792ee79abfcca402b | ['9331966d1f244990901d7298fcffc462'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> Next Chapter: January 8th
Rei’s mother woke her early, running her fingers through the tangled knots in her hair, and offering up the morning wash bin. “Happy Birthday, snowflake.” it was a soft chime, barely registering as much of anything in Rei’s mind. “Your father has prepared a feast. It’s not everyday one’s daughter turns a woman’s age.” She wasn’t yet a woman, only fifteen and still growing. She was not ready to bare children, let alone be married yet. Luckily, her father didn’t seem to be interested in finding a suitor right off. Rei was his precious daughter, one of a kind.
A soft yawn left her as her mother pulled back the blankets, helping her strip of her night clothes and into her day dress, a light blue slip with an ornate silk garment placed overtop. A crown circlet with family beads tangled through her hair. A princess of the West.
Her mother left shortly after she dressed, going to clean herself up for the day of festivities. A woman’s coming of age. Rei’s throat tightened at the thought. No more sneaking about the livestock and running through the fields with the maidens. No more bathing in the river with the other children, or playfully splashing her sisters of fourteen. She was a woman now, and a woman’s job was to protect, to keep a careful watch on the men to make sure they didn’t do anything necessarily stupid. It was unfortunate she had to grow up and be a babysitter when she could do the same thing as a child.
In her childhood, she would catch the wolves staring, hoping that she would give them something. Soon, a wolf would become her charge, and she absolutely hated the thought. Why force her into something as disgusting as a marriage?
*~*~*~*~*~*
The night had gone on to drinking and dancing, as proper festivities did when not faced with a war decree, and her cheeks burned red with drink. A mixture of wine and pastries her plethora of wolves offered her in hopes of gaining her allowance into bed that night. No one dared to touch her without permission, her father would have their head on a pike on his front door if someone even dared. And her mother would be the one to cut it from the throat of the one who had. So, sneaking away for a moment of fresh air was no difficult or strenuous task.
The wet soil of the forest felt amazing against her heated skin, and it wasn’t long before she had stripped of her heavy coats and silk dress to submerge herself in the river that was deemed to be left in her childhood. The ice would usually sting those from other houses, but she welcomed it warmly and sunk further into the frigid depths.
If this is what eternity felt like, she would embrace it with open arms. No suffering, just the unnecessary lapse of years as she floated with the ice. She dipped her face, imagining her hair and ashen body becoming one with the snow on the banks.
The peace of this was abruptly broken by a large figure diving into the river and pulling her to the surface. They coughed, dragging her to the shore, and bringing their face closer to hers to check her breathing. Of course she was, it was just a second she had been submerged!
Rei’s eyes opened to the figure of a boy breathing heavily. His damp fiery locks stuck to his forehead as his lips turned a slight purple. He was freezing in a way she would and had never known. A Southern wolf.
He struggled to stay in form, shoulders betraying his stoic expression as his body willed against the impending change. “You shouldn’t be in the river. It’s freezing.” his teeth chattered as he spoke, but his voice was full of confidence and prestige. A knight, maybe.
“It’s not cold to me.” She pressed a hand to his, showing him the warmth she still held. He leaned into it instinctually, sighing at it. “But you, you are a Southerner, a warm one. Come.” She stood and tugged his hand gently, body more bare than she would have preferred in front of the man. Not out of fear, but a modesty of youth. The main priority was getting him warm and dry, which seemed a lot harder than it might have previously been. The West and the South had been at war for a long time, spanning many centuries and if she even considered taking him back they would kill him on sight for seeing her in the state she currently was. His clothes were heavy, a fur coat and wool suit, now drenched in river water. “Strip, stupid one.” The man’s hair stood up on end for a moment, partially out of fury, and partially due to the fact that he was warding off another rush of energy.
The man did as he was told, stripping out of the sodden clothes and standing nearly nude in front of her. If these were normal circumstances this would look absurd, and she’d consider stabbing him. But this was simply a woman’s job, to babysit stupid men.
“Good, now sit.” There had to be a joke in her mind that sat at the end of her tongue with that one. He did as he was told again, placing his large body into a sitting position, legs folding in front of him. She took this time to begin wrapping her furs around him, gathering up brush as well to start a small fire. It wouldn’t snow in the night, so she supposed it would stay put enough for his clothing to dry and for him to leave. Yet, she couldn’t find flint to start it with.
“I’ll have to go searching for fire rocks.” she said gently, putting her hands up. “Stay.” |
f1703b0269a844389bc666d10d85581c | ['9345ebe8c3bf4b5790d6e65e8d2078b5'] | John laid down between Sherlock's legs so his mouth lined up perfectly with his nipples. The little buds were already standing at attention from all the teasing that he had unleashed upon his boyfriend. John made a sound in the back of his throat as he engulfed his right nipple. He switched fluently between using his teeth and his tongue to entice a gorgeous symphony of sounds out of Sherlock's mouth. John was always amazing when it came to foreplay, but this morning was a whole new meaning to the word. A light flush spread over the entirety of Sherlock's neck and chest as he thought about how John was treating him like he was some sort of king. Surely this couldn't be just because it was Valentine's Day, could it?
His thoughts were wiped clean when John started undulating his stomach down into Sherlock's ever-growing erection. " _John!_ " came a soft but very needy cry from the detective. God, he wanted more. But by wanting more he was going against his whole argument about this damn holiday! His brain and his cock were telling him two completely different things and he wanted to listen to them both! He didn't have to fight himself too much because John started to finally move on from assaulting Sherlock's nipples and moved down to his stomach.
"You are so sexy like this, baby..." John whispered as he circled his tongue around the detective's navel before dipping it in and out. "All hot and bothered and pining for me." Sherlock rolled his head back against the pillow and allowed a louder moan leave his mouth as his eyes darkened and his cheeks flushed pink. When John talked to him in that gravely voice of his, the detective was all but gone to his own blind arousal. John blew cold air over the detective's taunt stomach and delighted in seeing the muscles twitch with interest. "On this _fake_ holiday," he smirked up at his boyfriend. Sherlock looked down at him and _Jesus Christ_ was it beautiful to see the great Sherlock Holmes flustered and titillated.
Sherlock matched his smirk and let his fingers card through John's hair before giving it a small tug. "Maybe you can change my mind about this holiday..." he murmured, his voice a clear octave deeper than normal.
"Oh, I think this is one you'll never forget," John growled back with a predatory smile. He dipped his head back down and let the tip of his nose nuzzle along the line of soft, dark hair that led from the detective's navel and disappeared under the waistband of his boxers. Sherlock's whole body twitched in a shiver before wrapping his legs around John's body - almost like a horny reflex.
"John...! Stop teasing...!" he whined before letting out a sound that could only be described as a human squeak. John let his tongue lazily lick along the trail of fine hairs on Sherlock's pelvis and it made the normally elegant detective react in a way that would have been embarrassing if he was with anyone else other than John. He leaned up on his elbows to watch John drive him crazy but found his head too heavy with stimulation to keep from rolling backwards - especially when John started to kiss along Sherlock's pubic bone and his hands started to slowly slide his boxers down.
"Is this what you want?" John breathed over the base of Sherlock's cock.
"Yes! Oh my god, yes," Sherlock whimpered, feeling his heartbeat in his groin as all the blood redirected itself there.
Just as John was about to free Sherlock's straining cock, there was a cry from the upstairs bedroom.
Both men turned their heads up towards the ceiling, and it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. At the exact same time, they both slowly lowered their heads and looked back at each other; and John couldn't help but break out into laughter. Sherlock looked like he was going to cry and/or murder John right then and there.
"She has perfect timing, doesn't she?" John smirked as he sat up on his knees. Almost as if by reflex, Sherlock hooked the heels of his feet around John's legs, trying to keep him held on the bed; the murderous, almost delirious look still in his eyes.
"Don't. You. Fucking. Dare," he murmured, his tone soft but strong with a hint of desperation.
John couldn't wipe the smugness off his face even if he tried to. He reached down and unhooked Sherlock's feet before raising his legs up and kissing his calves as he slid off the bed.
"You can't just leave me with my cock throbbing like this!"
"Our daughter needs something, I can't just leave her crying," John said, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Besides, you have a hand, don't ya?"
Sherlock looked like his head was going to explode and John was loving every second of it. In the end, the detective settled for crossing his arms over his chest and sinking into a pout. "Worst Valentine's Day ever," he grumbled like a five-year-old, not even looking at John anymore.
John smiled fondly and moved to straddle Sherlock's hips, cupping his face and kissing him deeply all in one swift move. "I'll make it up to you babe, I promise," he whispered on his lips before kissing him again. He ground his hips down once more into Sherlock's to make good on his promise. "The holiday is still young, after all."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and tried to keep the corners of his lips from rolling up into a smile. "Fine. You go attend to our daughter, since you think that's more important," he joked. "I'll join you and Rosie in the kitchen in a bit; once I make love to myself since my boyfriend decided not to at the very last minute." | 4b01ca5e69294d6e98a9a460bd08cc8c | ['9345ebe8c3bf4b5790d6e65e8d2078b5'] |
Payback
**Author's Note:**
> This little fic is for the Gay Porn Hard II tag on tumblr to hopefully bring more good luck to our boys tonight during game four! Let's Go Hawks!!!
"Are you going to continue not talking to me today?" Patrick asked Jonathan as they walked through the halls of the United Center. "Seriously dude, this is getting ridiculous. It was a stupid fight last night, I said I was sorry!"
Jonathan continued walking forward, not even looking at Pat. Yes it _was_ a stupid fight, and yes Patrick _had_ apologized, but Jonathan was stubborn, and he liked having Pat suffer just a little.
"You better loosen up before we get on camera, they'll pick up that something's wrong then they'll never let it go," he said as he opened the door to the press room.
"Maybe I'll let them. Let the whole world know about how stupidly you got upset when I suggested we use some toys in bed," he answered back with a bit of a bite to his words.
"You don't need toys when you have _me!_ "
Jonathan just gave his boyfriend a look before rolling his eyes and continuing to walk over to the table for the press conference. Patrick let out a long sigh and ran his hands over his face. This was the day they were announcing their contract extensions with the team and he couldn't have Jon be grumpy for something as big as this. That's when an idea popped into Patrick's head. An idea that would be brilliant if he pulled it off, but could also go horribly wrong. A giddy smile went across his face at the thought of it and he quickly tried to hide his smile away as he went to join Jonathan at the table.
The press conference started off just as it was supposed to. Both men were nothing but smiles as they filmed a little snippet about what it meant to be a part of the organization and how excited they were to continue their careers with the Blackhawks. Once they finished filming that portion, the doors were opened for reporters to come in and ask them questions. Patrick was especially smiley cause he was about to put his idea into motion.
He started slow at first, just simply putting his hand on Jon's leg, under the table. From the outside, he didn't look like he had any sort of reaction, but Patrick knew his Jonathan well enough to see the tiniest of changes in his pupils as well as the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
Then he started sliding his hand up Jonny's thigh when a question was directed his way. As Patrick answered it, he slid his fingers down the inside of Jonathan's thigh - his knuckles barely brushing against his crotch - and he tried his hardest not to smile when he noticed Jonathan squirm slightly in his seat.
Another question was directed at Jonny and that's when Patrick really went for it. He spread his hand across Jonathan's crotch and cupped his dick through his pants and gave a small squeeze. Jonny popped up a little in his seat and rocked his hips back slightly and tried to play it off by coughing at the same time.
Patrick - being the little shit that he was - even looked at Jonathan and asked if he was okay as his hand stroked his length under the table.
"Fine," he answered back as neutral as he could despite feeling his cock twitch in his pants with the attention it was receiving.
Jonathan couldn't believe that Patrick was actually doing this right in front of all these people. They could be caught at any time if he gave too much away, or if someone noticed Pat's arm moving ever so slightly under the table, and the thought that his boyfriend was getting him off in public was making his dick swell even more.
The moderator for the press conference called for final questions, and that was Patrick's cue to unzip Jonny's pants and slide his hand inside to stroke him a little more intimately.
Jonathan let out a small huff before biting his lip to prevent any other noises from leaving his mouth. Fuck this was hot! Maybe he had a little bit of an exhibitionist in him.
Patrick had to give credit to Jonathan, he was definitely keeping a better composure than he had thought he could. He allowed his fingers to circle around the head of Jonny's cock and played with it. He let the pad of his thumb play over his slit and had to bite back his own smile when he discovered that it was slightly wet and sticky already.
Jonathan had never been more thankful for a press conference to be over cause he didn't know how much longer he could keep still and quiet with all of Patrick's ministrations.
As soon as all the media left, Jonathan turned and smashed his lips into Patrick's in the most heated kiss he ever gave.
"You. Fucking. Idiot," he growled in between kisses as he held his face close to his. "You're going to pay for that," he said as he drew Patrick's tongue out of his mouth so he could suck on it.
Patrick let out a deep moan from the dirty actions of his boyfriend and smiled when he felt his own cock twitch in his pants.
" _Locker room. Now,_ " Jon growled before picking Patrick up and putting him over his shoulder to carry him out. The blonde couldn't help but laugh and wiggle his ass in Jonathan's face, prompting his boyfriend to give him a good smack.
"Spank me harder, Jonny," Pat mewed, toes curling in his shoes. Jonathan smacked Pat's ass a few more times and smirked to himself when his boyfriend's moans filled the vacant hallway. |
a705cc71d9174e1b88be4c6505209d0e | ['9354e067b6e84b4ab4453aac2394b1e5'] | Seth didn't respond but led Dean into his bedroom and closed the door. He looked at Dean for a moment or two and then closed the gap between them. His hand ran up the back of Dean's neck meeting the soft hair that brushed against the nape. His fingers curled into this hair as he gently but deliberately tugged Dean's face down to meet his. He kissed Dean leisurely opening and closing his lips over Dean's so that he could feel the moisture of the inner part of Seth's lips. It took sometime but eventually Dean seemed to have recovered from his initial shock and wrapped his arms around Seth's lower back pressing their bodies even harder together. He kissed Seth back with the same slow deliberateness. This kiss lacked the innocence of the ones before. He could feel a need and a longing behind Seth's movement.
Dean felt a shiver run down his spine when the tip of Seth's tongue traced along his bottom lip. He parted his lips and Seth's tongue swipped across the entrance. The tip of his tongue brushing against Dean's. It was Ambrose's turn to hold the back of Seth's head as Seth's tongue made its way into Dean's mouth. The cat like muscle slid confidently over Dean's tongue as Seth angled his head deepening the kiss. His own instrument took the opportunity to explore Seth's mouth. Inside was as sweet as Dean had imagined as their tongues rolled over each other.
As the kiss continued it was the only thing in Dean's consciousness. He could feel Seth's fingers in his hair. Their lips and tongue meeting over and over as their bodies were molded against each other. Eventually Seth pulled away ending the kiss. They remained in each other's embrace, both trying to process what had just happened.
" Wow." Dean spoke first, bringing his hand up to cup Seth's face. He took in Seth's kiss swollen lips, pressing his thumb against the center of the bottom lip and then removing it. Their mouths came together again but this time Dean directed Seth towards the bed. Without stopping their kissing, Seth eased up the bed on his back while Dean followed on his hands and knees above him. When Seth settled in the bed, Dean brought his full weight down on top of him and he heard Seth sigh into the kiss. Seth long legs came up around his waist so that their groins were pressed against each other.
Dean's lips left Seth's face and started to travel down his neck. He licked and sucked at the tender flesh along the way as he made his was down to Seth's chest. His lips covered a tan coloured nipple and his tongue worked it over getting it hard. Seth moaned and pressed Dean's head against his chest, keeping the tongue lapping at the sensitive bud. It felt as if that nipple had a direct connection to his cock that was pulsing in his underwear leaking precum.
" You want this Seth?" Dean's voice was husky as he finally pulled away from that pleasure spot.
Seth didn't answer but rubbed his crotch against Dean's hard dick as a respone.
Dean sat back on his knees and passed his hand over Seth's hard on in his underwear. " I want to hear you say it."
Seth licked his bottom lip and Dean surged forward to kiss him again. He could feel his hard shaft pressing against the cheeks right below Seth's balls. Seth was kissing him back.
" Tell me that you want this Seth. Dean pulled back to look at Seth. His brown eyes watching him full of innocence yet something deeper lurked beneath. He kissed Seth's chest. " Tell me that you want to feel me inside of you." His voice barely above a whisper. " I'll send Drew home if you want this."
He squeezed Seth's shaft through the underwear while waiting for him to say something. He heard Seth moan appreciatively and then he looked up at him as if he was waiting for Dean to continue.
" C'mon Seth," Dean sucked at the tender flesh on his roommate's neck. " Do you want this?"
After getting no verbal response Dean observed Seth carefully. " You can't say it can you?"
Seth remained unusally quiet. He avoided eye contact with Dean but kept his body pressed against the other man.
" You don't want this do you? Dean grabbed Seth's jaw and turned his face towards him. " You just want me away from Drew."
He removed Seth's legs from around his waist and got off the bed. He was so hard that the outline of his dick was clear to see in his jeans.
" Dean, don't go." Seth climbed off the bed and approached him. He didn't know what he wanted but he didn't want Dean to return to the handsome blonde in his room. The truth was all he could think about was Dean's cock pressing against his ass and how much it had turned him on more than he was willing to admit.
" Please stay." He kissed Dean hard pressing him up against the door. His hands resting on either side of Dean's head. He grinded his hips against Dean's so that their hard ons could rub against each other. The delicious friction causing Seth to moan into the kiss. He felt Dean's hands grabbing his ass and Seth pressed his hips harder against Dean's but to Seth's surprise, Dean pushed him back.
Seth looked at Dean bewildered. " Dean?"
The older man shook his head. " You've got a lot of nerve." That was all Dean said to him as he opened the door and returned to his own bedroom.
* * * | a6cbe480f67c4e8c80cf740e499e193b | ['9354e067b6e84b4ab4453aac2394b1e5'] | _He saw Roman relax a bit and then looked at each other for a few seconds before Wade spoke again. " So do you want to join me for a drink later?" He saw Roman hesitating and quickly added on. " You can bring your mates if you want."_
_Roman looked relieved. " Yeah sure. I'll ask them."_
_Wade stood up. " You do that. I just want to show you that it's all above board. I'm just hoping that we all can be friends when we're done."_
_" How about your buddies at the golf club?" Roman asked as Wade walked to the door._
_The taller man shook his head. " They're no real friends of mine." That's all he said as he walked through the door._
_As luck would have it both Dean and Seth had to work that night so Roman went alone to meet up with Wade in a trendy lounge in downtown L.A. He was escorted to a private booth in the back that had a privacy blue curtain around it but they could still see the activities in the lounge. As Roman greeted Wade and took a seat he couldn't help to feel a bit out of sorts of being there especially without either Dean or Seth._
_However as the night wore on Roman became relaxed in Wade's company. He was a good storyteller and had that witty, sarcastic humour that Roman enjoyed. He found Wade to be actually enjoyable to be around and thought that both Dean and Seth would enjoy his company._
_Wade looked over at Roman as he rested his head against the back of the orange leather couch. Reigns was quite a handsome man. He was strong looking and walked with confidence. He noticed him turning quite a few heads of both sexes when he came to join him earlier. Wade was positive that Roman could have anyone that he wanted so he wasn't too surprised when he had mentioned that he had two lovers. The surprising part to him was that they both knew about each other and from what Reigns had hinted all three of them were in a relationship together._
_He watched as Roman sipped his scotch and savoured the liquid in his mouth before he swallowed. He certainly did have a nice pretty mouth. Wade suddenly realized that he had been watching Reigns for an unnaturally long time and took a huge sip of his drink. He had no inclinations towards his own sex but he could admit that the man was quite attractive._
_The night ended a few hours later and Wade decided to walk Roman to his car. The younger seemed to be in control of his mental faculties although Wade cursed himself for encouraging him to drink so much. He just hoped that the guy made it home safely._
_Roman suddenly stumbled as he was about to open his car door. Wade caught him around the waist and pulled him back._
_Roman laughed. " I guess I'm a bit tipsier that I thought." He straightened himself up and pressed the button on his keychain and unlocked the door._
_He noticed Wade's hand slipping around his back to rest on hips. His eyes made contact with Wade's dark blues. He was parked next to the curb and one car length down from the street light. The light fell half way across the back of Wade's body leaving his face in the shadows._
_" I'm fine." Roman's voice was firm and his tone was bit harsh. His meaning was clear. He wanted Wade to back the hell off._
_Wade withdrew his hand immediately. " I'm sorry. I was just making sure that you're okay. I don't want you driving home drunk."_
_" I'm a big boy. I'll be fine." Roman responded reaching for the door handle to close it._
_" Look Roman. I'm not trying to come on to you alright?" The British accent coming across even stronger through his frustration. " I'm just making sure that you're sober enough to make it home."_
_Roman sighed and then groaned. " Okay. Sorry for snapping at you." He looked over at the Brit and he could see that he was being genuine. He was a good looking man Roman supposed but he wasn't interested in him. He just had to make sure that he got that point across even though he was sure that Wade was straight._
_" It's fine." Wade pushed in the car door. He did suppose that his actions could have been misconstrued a bit._
_A few tense seconds passed between them until Wade spoke again. " Can we do this again?"_
_Roman took a while and finally nodded his head. " Sure."_
_When Roman arrived home. He headed to his apartment. He knew that Dean and Seth would be inside waiting on him._
_When he walked in he saw Dean sitting on the couch. He didn't bother to turn on the light as Dean came over to him wearing nothing but his boxers._
_" Where's Seth?"_
_The words whispered between them as Dean's hand went around his waist and the other took a firm grasp of the back of his head._
_" In the bedroom."_
_Before Roman could respond Dean pulled his head down and crashed their lips together. The kiss was hard and Dean sucked harshly at his lips until it really hurt him. Dean's tongue pushed into his mouth twisting and turning as if he was searching for something. Roman tried to control the pace of the kiss but he couldn't seem to get Dean's actions under control. He wasn't exactly enjoying the kiss either. It wasn't the passioned filled kisses that he came to expect from Dean. There seemed to be another motive behind this one._
_Roman placed his hand on Dean's chest and pushed away lightly. " I didn't do anything with him."_ |
8c1e3a6456504cb28317c6ef14bb95cc | ['937ff002d0444f708399749bb9d21cc4'] |
**Author's Note:**
> FYI: This story is an AU, so don't be surprised if things are not exactly the same as they are in the show. Also Wally doesn't know the bats identities, so keep that in mind. Enjoy!
It was a boring day in Mt. Justice. Now, a day off was usually welcomed, but it had been weeks since Batman had last sent the team on a mission and they were starting to get a bit stir-crazy—Kid-Flash more than anyone. Megan had convinced the team that a movie night would be a good way to spend their evening and Robin jumped at the chance to show her his favorite movies. He had disappeared through the Zeta tubes twenty minutes ago to get the options and everyone was sitting around the living room waiting for him to return.
“Ugh, how long does it take to grab a movie? I could have sped to the store and back twice by now!” Wally was sprawled out over a chair, with one leg swung over the arm of it jiggling impatiently.
“I am certain he will be back soon,” Kaldur’ahm said calmly. “In the meantime, you could use some of that pent-up energy to help M’gann clean up in the kitchen. I’m sure she would appreciate the help.” With a defeated sigh, Wally moved to get up, but before he could even leave his chair, Megan walked into the room.
“Actually, I just finished!” she sent them a beaming smile. “It’s a lot easier to get butter off the ceiling when you can fly you know.”
“Speaking of butter, weren’t you making popcorn?” Kid Flash piped up. He could always be counted on to think with his stomach first.
Megan hit her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Hello Megan!” She quickly flew back to the kitchen before returning with six bags of popcorn hovering beside her, and a handful of stacked bowls. Wanting to make the movie popcorn authentic, she had originally tried to pop it on the stove. But she added the butter too early and well…
As they started to pass around the bowls, the zeta tube finally activated.
‘Robin B-01, Batman 02’
Batman? Why was he here? Robin said he was going to be busy all night. The team exchanged looks of confusion. A mission perhaps?
“Robin,” Batman spoke gruffly as he came through the zeta, walking after a very disgruntled looking Robin. “You can’t just walk through a zeta tube to avoid me.”
“Oh yeah?” Robin scoffed. “Watch me.” Batman placed a large gloved hand on Robin’s shoulder, stopping him in His place.
Definitely not a mission.
“Robin.” He growled warningly. Rob spun around to look at him with a fierce glare.
“All I’m asking for is one night B. Why can’t you give me that?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.
“You know exactly why not. You made a commitment and now you are going to follow through,” Batman spoke sternly. “Whether or not you remembered your obligations doesn’t change the fact that they are there.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Robin exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. “I work my butt off day and night for you! Between school, patrol, and training I barely have time for sleep let alone time with friends.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I just want one night where I can be a teenager and have fun like everyone else my age.” He looked up at Batman and lowered his voice, “Please dad?”
Batman visibly deflated. Sometimes he forgot how much pressure he put on Dick. He always seemed to handle things so well that it was easy to forget that he is still just a kid and needs time off every once in a while. Bruce sighed.
“Robin,” his voice softened, “you know if it ever becomes too much to handle, you should just tell me.” Dick looked away, embarrassed. “I am aware that I can get caught up in this life and not think about the consequences it can have. For that I am sorry.” Robin brightened.
“However,” he held a hand up, “you need to tell me in advance next time you plan on missing such a public event. Do you have any idea how many people I am going to have to explain your absence to now?”
“Is that a yes?” Robin smiled widely.
“One night,” Batman confirmed with a nod. Robin let out a happy cheer and, to the surprise of their onlookers, leapt into Batman’s arms. Batman caught him with a slight grunt, but adjusted to the hug with a practiced ease.
“Thanks Dad,” Robin whispered before giving one last squeeze and stepping away. “See you tomorrow?” Batman nodded, straightened his cape, and vanished back through the Zeta tube.
Robin turned toward the living area, a large grin on his face and a skip in his step as he walked over. It was then that he noticed the five pairs of wide eyes following his every movement. “Oh, hey guys! Sorry it took so long! I had a little disagreement with bats, but we are all good now, so how bout we get this show on the road!” No one said anything for a moment. “Um, guys?”
“Batman’s your dad?!” KF blurted out after a moment. Robin narrowed his eyes.
“Eavesdropping much?” They had the curtesy to look sheepish. Robin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, he is,” his eyes narrowed. “That a problem?”
“No! No course not!” Wally lifted his hands defensibly, “Just—what is that even like?” Robin’s scowl lessened and he tilted his head questioningly. “I mean, do you live in a cave and train 24/7 or what? And how does someone like that make someone like you? And, oh god is there a Mrs. Bats?” His words sped up as he asked question after question, and Robin held up a hand to stop him. | 86a7e60cce604cad9a435c11be6ab402 | ['937ff002d0444f708399749bb9d21cc4'] |
"Hi William!" Oliver Queen of all people was on William's laptop greeting him with a friendly smile. To say William was confused would be a gross understatement. His mother had pulled him out of school without so much as a word of explanation only to sit him down in front of a computer with the instructions to watch first and ask questions later.
"I hope you're well- and I hope you're safe." Safe? Why wouldn't he be safe? Then again, the last time William had seen Oliver Queen he had just been kidnapped, so the comment kinda made sense in retrospect. This must have been recorded right after those events transpired, judging by Oliver's young appearance.
"There's something that I-I want to tell you." William furrowed his brow.
"I wanted to tell you before but-" he paused and took a deep breath, "but this is better." Another short pause and then, "I'm your father."
With three words William's reality was shattered. He had often wondered about his father. He could remember watching movies with the perfect families where the mom was always happy and the dad was always there for a pep talk, and feeling like he was missing out. He loved his mother to be sure, but he could never get past the feeling of abandonment. The kids at school used to make fun of him for being a mommy's boy and call him a bastard. Which technically was true and stung because it was. He used to imagine what his father might be like, kind and smart with blue eyes like his. When he was being particularly bitter, he imagined his father was locked up in some sort of prison or more likely a deadbeat wasting his life away on drugs and alcohol. He never imagined his father was a billionaire.
"Biologically that is. As far as really being your father goes." Oliver shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I haven't earned that yet." William glared at the man who had stayed away from him for so much of his life. Yeah no kidding. "A father should be there for his child every day, no matter what. To make sure that they feel loved. That they feel safe. And a child should be able to rely on their father and go to him for- for guidance and reassurance. I have failed to do that for you." William gaze softened and he looked down at his lap, he could never put into words what he felt like he was missing in his life and to hear it so blatantly said was… painful.
"And now I'm-I'm gonna tell you why." He didn't know it at the time, but years later, he would come back to this moment as the moment his life would never be the same again. "I'm the Green Arrow-" William's eyes snapped back up to those of his father. "and my life is very dangerous. Which is why-" He paused with another heavy breath. "we decided to keep you out of it for all these years." The Green Arrow his dad was the freaking Green Arrow. His dad was a superhero. William's mind was moving a mile a minute. The Green Arrow was his hero. The other kids loved Superman, Green Lantern and the Flash for their superpowers, but for William it was the Green Arrow. It was always the Green Arrow, ever since he saved him that night. William had idolized him, and now to know that it was his father the whole time… well Will didn't know what to think.
"What happened to you in Star City," Oliver voice got hoarser and he was visibly holding back tears. "that was my fault. And I can't allow anything like that to ever happen again." His voice cracked on the last word. "And that's why I've asked your mother to move you far away, and to not tell anyone where she's taking you. Including me." Will knew he should be questioning how it was Oliver's fault that he was kidnapped, but all he could think was that his father had wanted him. Somehow that one simple fact made years of hardship and bullying fade away. He wasn't abandoned because he wasn't wanted, he was being protected. Suddenly, William found himself with tears in his eyes.
"That's also why I asked her to wait to show you this message until after your eighteenth birthday. I wanted to give you a real childhood. I wanted to give you that gift." Oliver's lip trembled and William reached up to brush away his own tears.
"Goodbye, son. I sure hope it's not forever." The screen went black and William looked up at his mother. They stared at each other for a moment, neither knowing what to say, how to start what was sure to be a very difficult conversation.
"Why show me this now?" William finally asked. "I turned 18 months ago, so why now." Samantha took a shaky breath.
"I was afraid that if I showed you, you would go looking for him." Well she wasn't wrong. That was exactly what Will was planning on doing.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Of course I was! But you have to understand-"
"Understand what? That you kept me from my own father, who actually wants to get to know me, because you were too selfish to let me go?!" The more he thought about it the more angry he got. How dare she keep him from his father! His dad. Would he ever get to call Oliver that?
"It's not like that Will! I just wanted a few more months with you that's all. I was going to show you after you graduated. That way you could make your own decision, when you would have time to visit him." |
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