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cuntry-r0ckst4r · 2 months

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"But Daddy I Love Him!" ~ (lip gallagher x fem!reader's version)

sum! "But Daddy I Love Him!" Taylor swift - The Tortured Poets department.

tw! FACEBOOK... toxic family, mention of having a baby, swearing ig (again its shameless)

uhm this is gonna suck! I have no clue what I'm doing! ok days later n the middle/ending is very sloppy i feel like. idk i kinda dont like it.

"I forget how the west was won, I forget if this was ever fun, I just learned these people only raise you to cage you"

You and Lip were fighting again. You hadn't been getting along as much anymore, you were getting closer to your two year mark too.

No one in your family liked the Gallaghers to begin with, so you couldn't complain to your family (siblings, cousins, whoever). The one who disapproved of your relationship the most though? Your father. Your father hated the relationship you had with Lip. He thought he was going to use you for money, your body, etc. He just knew Gallaghers were usually up to something, so he didn't approve of this relationship as soon as you told him.

Except with how much you and Lip were arguing now, it's hard to remember all the fun you would have. It's like a distant memory that you forget was a dream or not.

"Sarah's and Hannah's in their sunday best, Clutching their pearls, Sighing 'What a mess', I just learned these people try and save you ... cause they hate you"

Your family wasn't just rude to him, you as well. It was a bunch of rich snobs, and if something hadn't gone their way then get rid of it.

They hated you for even being in the vicinity of someone 'lesser' than them. Because god forbid you bring normal people into the wretched family of yours. Your cousins and extended family were known to gossip about others in the family, and right now you were the hot topic.

"too high a horse, for a simple girl to rise above it, they slammed the door on my whole world, the one thing I wanted"

It was an accident. Sort of. With how complicated you and Lip were right now you had changed your relationship status to "it's complicated". Not thinking about how public your page is to your very judgemental family. Lip did the same so he wasn't necessarily mad. All of your cousins, aunts, etc. were messaging you asking what happened, trying to get as much information as they could. It was all fine until your dad texted you.

"Come home."

Oh god. You could feel your stomach doing flips inside of you. You knew what he was going to say. 'You need to break up with this boy if it's to the point you're both telling the entire world how complicated your relationship is right now'. You went over there with the full intent to defend yourself and your boyfriend.

"Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned, Screaming 'But Daddy I Love Him!' I'm having his baby. No, I'm Not, but you should see your faces"

You got to your parents house and your dad started saying the exact things you thought he would.

"If you're sharing your relationship vis-à-vis the internet than I do not think this relationship should go on." Your dad kept repeating this in different wordings time and time again.

"Dad, me and Lip are just arguing like normal couples do. All you do is talk about how I should break up with him and that he is horrible for me." You snap at him, finally.

You continue your rant, "It isn't up to you to decide for me whether my boyfriend is good for me or not. I'm an adult and I can figure my love life out for myself. He has done nothing but be kind to all of you and get on your good side, but all of you are too snobby to understand that!"

You have to take a break to breath.

"I'm having his child. Not now... but eventually." As you said this they're faces were all filled with shock. Some of them had concern written all over there face.

"I'm telling him to floor it through the fences. No, I'm not coming to my senses, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

"I know none of you like him, but I see a future with him. But if you never learn to accept none of you will be apart of this future." God, it felt good finally standing up for yourself in front of your family.

Instead of waiting for them you got up and left. Not wanting to here what kind of excuse he's going to make for himself.

"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid, tendrils tucked into a woven braid, growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all."

Your way back home had you thinking about your childhood and how you grew up. If there so against difference, and all of your other family is, why were you taught different?

It can't be because of school because you went to school with some family that acts the same as them.

Maybe because you had friends that were in south side? They were friends with the private school's principal and they were able to get in free of cost. You would go over to their house sometimes and it wasn't a huge clean house in a nice pretty neighborhood. Maybe that's why you weren't born to be a horrible person and you actually got to learn about people who weren't as lucky as you.

Which also means from a young age you were already more mature than your entire family.

"He was chaos, he was revelry, Bedroom eyes like a remedy."

You got back to the house and saw Lip on the couch. You went inside and sat next to him. At first he didn't say anything to you. Until he couldn't just not speak.

"Where'd you go?" He mutters, not looking at you still.

"Parents." You answer him almost instantly, looking at him.

He nods, knowing what this is about.

"So, they knock some sense in ya? You dumping me?" He rubs his face and the looks at you.

You snicker, "You must know absolutely nothing about me if you think I'm listening to my parents?"

He smiles and chuckled (i'm thinking of the lil breath through the nose laugh that no one knows what to call...) he knew how stubborn you were when it came to your parents.

"Soon enough the elders had convened, down at the city hall, 'stay away from her', the saboteurs protested too much"

Your family had been trying to text you. Some to apologize, some to try to talk out out of being mad, some to get gossip, the others still trying to get you to break up with him.

Your father had compared you to a '"rebelling teenager" because of how you're acting? You and Lip had stopped arguing for now.

Every time they reached out to him to talk to you through him, he would tell them to stop, "leave her alone", or block them. He was sick of how they treated you and him too.

Almost all of your family was blocked now, because they all decided to text you. The only people you couldn't bring yourself to block were your parents. Even though they were the ones laying it on the strongest. Your mom kept apologising but your dad was saying the same things as before.

"Lord knows the words we never heard, Just screeching tires and true love"

God this whole situation felt like a movie or a taylor swift song. It was ridiculous. Everyone's actions were childish and obnoxious.

You and Lip haven't been arguing in a while, because your attention was on other things at the moment. You two had actually been more romantic. You both have put your status back to normal. Yet, nothing in your life was back to normal.

"I'll tell you something right now, I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning"

This had been going on for over a month now. It was just annoying and obnoxious now. Lip knew you defended him and this is why this is still going on. No doubt about this. Except now he was having to deal with you being: bitchy, exhausted, or just annoyed.

It was affecting him now, and he was starting to get pissed.

"I'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empaths clothing"

"Your parents have been talking to Frank about us. Frank was asking me about you." Lip said through gritted teeth and a scowl, he had been walking inside while I said that.

You roll your eyes and respond in an almost whiny voice, "Please tell me your joking. They have gone way too far with this. First they tell my entire family and now they start on yours?"

"God save the judgemental creeps, Who say they want what's best for me, Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see"

The texts were all the same from your mom and dad.

"We just want what's best for you, and he isn't it!" They would say. Over. And over.

It was so repetitive, you had to block them. Not everywhere just where they would text you the most.

"Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me, And counteract chemistry, And undo the destiny"

I swear if you never had met him, which your not upset about meeting him, your parents wouldn't complain to you all the time. But oh well. There's a very real possibility they would have done this with anyone who you ended up with, seeing as how everyone they would try and set you up with was not your type.

Since this has been happening, your family would always have witty remarks like: "I'll keep you in my prayers" or "I'm thinking of you"

"You ain't gotta pray for me, Me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy."

When were they going to realize that he made you happy. You liked loved being with him. He was your wild boy. Yours. For no one to take.

"If all you want is gray for me, Then it's just white noise, And it's my choice"

Being with him wasn't there choice to make, it was yours. You just had to blur out all the background noise that meant nothing to you.

"There's a lot of people in town that I, Bestow upon my fakest smiles, Scandal does funny things to pride, But brings lovers closer"

Instead of biting back, you played nice. They would would say something rude and you would respond with a smile. All of the fighting only made you and Lip begin to grow closer to each other.

Their bickering with you about him, was backfiring. Big time.

Your parents saw this. They then saw how you looked at eachother. Realised you went to war for each other. Defending each other to your parents. It made them think a little longer.

"We came back when the heat died down, Went to my parents and they came around, All the wine moms are still holding out, But Fuck 'em, it's over"

Your parents had asked you over again. There wasn't anymore fighting online for a couple of weeks now, but you still went over there with the full intent of defending yourselves.

When they started apologising though you were skeptical at first until you saw the genuine look. They meant the apology. They didn't just apologise for what they said, but the actions they had on social media, how they brought the family into it.

"I was being a hypocrite," Your father had explained, "You were talking about your issues on the internet and then I went and did the same things to the both of you, as well as involving other people when it was unnecessary. I sincerely apologise."

Lip had a subtle smirk on his face, only you and his family could recognise.

You both had thanked him for apologizing, none of your other family had apologized though.

"Now I'm dancing in my dress in the sun and, Even my daddy just loves him, I'm his lady, and oh my God, You should see your faces"

Your parents were now very fond of Lip, praising him consistently. Your mother called him handsome. Your father realised how bright he was. Most of all they realised how good the two of you were for each other and how much he loves you.

"No you can't come to the wedding, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

You were at your family's annual gathering when one of your cousins came over to the two of you, "So when's your wedding?"

You laughed, "If and when it happens it will solely be immediate family and some friends that will be invited. The ones who actually care about us, ya know?"

#shameless x reader #shameless us x reader #lip gallagher x reader #phillip gallagher x reader #reader x lip gallagher #reader x phillip gallagher #frank gallaher #reader x shameless #reader x shameless us #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher x you #y/n x lip gallagher #you x lip gallagher

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ianthine-ichor · 9 months

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I had an ask for this story but it was sadly eaten by the Tumblr gods 😔

So for the anon who asked for John Price x Reader who comes to him years later after a bad breakup because they are in danger, this one's for you!

John Price x Reader ~ All I Have is You

Summary: You come running back to John years after a nasty break-up in hopes of finding some help out of a horrible situation.

Word count:: 6.5k

Tw in tags

John's life could never be simple. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many loose ends he pulled together by the skin of his teeth. There always managed to be something he let lay dormant, something he let fall to the wayside just long enough for it to maybe even slip his mind. And damn near every time it did, it came back with a vengeance.

However, of all the things he knew would come back to haunt him, you were what he expected least of all.

He had believed you a long dead part of his life, a piece of himself better numbed in alcohol than thought about. A face he'd spent endless nights trying to forget the smile of, endless partners failing to take your stead. He'd long since conceded to that aspect of himself being buried, hardly remedied by the ‘I love you’ that would fall from whoever had been his most recent escape from the icy cold of his bed.

But then, on a day like any other in this silent little place he'd given up trying to make feel like any sort of home, he'd opened the door to your unmistakable features.

He didn't know what to feel in the years of silence that seemed to pass. His mind and muscles tore themselves apart trying to find what reaction seemed appropriate. A part of himself didn't believe it, a similar part almost reached out to hold you, and another felt infuriated. He wasn't sure if it was because even so close you felt like light years away or if it was because he wanted to slam the door in your face for daring to ever come back. And for a moment, however small, he seriously considered the latter of the two.

But then you spoke. And suddenly whatever amount of spine had led him to the thought melted like butter.

“I need to talk. I know I have no right to ask but…” you paused, your voice softer than he thinks he's ever heard you speak. There might have even been a quiver in it, but he could hardly believe such a sound could come from the person who had once held together his broken pieces like you'd been solving him your entire life.

“I need your help” your chin raises and you meet his gaze, his skin flashing with the familiarity in how your eyes narrowed and your face snarled. It's hard to take your attempt at strength seriously with how feigned of an attempt it was. He says nothing and just the same he watches as you crumble. Your eyes avert, your hands twitch, your body leans away from him.

He hardly recognizes you.

But he steps aside all the same, a nod inviting you in as he keeps his vow of silence. You almost hesitate, but step in soon enough. Like a long lost ritual you kick your shoes off at the door, hanging your jacket and bristling as the light cold leaves your skin. He notes how you don't let him out of your sight but he can't tell why your eyes burn as much as they do.

Eventually he leads you to the kitchen. He wonders if you notice the empty frames. He wonders if you even care to look.

Like some twisted version of an old dream, you take your spot at the table where you used to sit. And before he even realizes what he's doing he's perking coffee, his eyes turning to you.

“Coffee?” He asks, but he isn't even sure why he does. Looking at you would be enough of an answer. You looked like you hadn't slept in months. You nod anyway.

He pretends to forget how you make your coffee. Out of spite? Anger? Frustration? It doesn't matter. He simply couldn't find the energy to put into someone whose presence made his heart find an old pace that left him biting his tongue at the bittersweet taste. Either way you get your coffee and he somehow finds the energy to sit across from you.

“You wanted to speak. Speak” his words come out harsher than he means them yet he doesn't find regret settling in his chest. Only minor annoyance as he watches you almost recoil from him, your drink pulled to your chest. Your eyes seem to search around for a moment, as if the words you needed so badly to speak would simply appear in front of you. He remembers how he used to find it sweet and can only react by biting his tongue harder.

“You haven't changed much” you begin. He can't help the grimace he shows as the annoyance in his chest grows. He catches how you straighten up under it.

“And you have” he answers back. You say nothing for a long moment and he isn't sure if he offended you or not. But he watches as you take a deep breath, your face hardening in a way he doesn't like.

“I know this isn't exactly…great for you. But it isn't for me either-”

“Why’d you leave?” the words slip out of his mouth before they had even been a thought in his head. Yet where he expected a look of anger or annoyance of your own, you only pause. And soon after, your look manages to grow colder.

“Because you didn't love me anymore” you answer back succinctly, calmly. He feels rage bloom in his chest at the words.

“Bullshit” he mutters through gritted teeth. He doesn't catch the sudden grip you hold on your cup and the way you slightly shake. But other than that you don't break.

“I must have phrased that wrong” there's a tone in your voice, an inflection of something horrible on your tongue.

“You did a piss poor job of making me feel like I was anything other than your fucking bed warmer” your words fall like acid on him. They soak through his marrow and into his bloodstream and become him. And his body rejects it just as quickly.

“You knew the type’a job I had when you met me” his voice is low and restrained as he tries to hold himself back

“It had nothing to do with your work-”

“Well what the bloody hell did it have to do with then!?” He stands, his hands slamming on the table as you immediately flinch away.

“Sit-!” You yell almost instinctively, the only thing he catches is the sudden terror in your tone. You take a stilted breath before speaking again.

“Sit down…please” your voice is much calmer but it does a horrible job at hiding the hitch in your voice or how your subtle shaking suddenly isn't so subtle. The strange demeanor stuns him for a moment, long enough for his flash of frustration to cool back to a simmer. There's a horrible feeling that crawls up his spine at your reaction, this gnawing, biting disgust that rips through him in a way he can't quite explain. He listens despite its elusive source or how he hates the way your eyes are locked on his every movement.

A horrible quiet passes that only further smothers the flames that had grown in his chest. You both hardly took any sips of your coffee as you seemed focused on your breathing and he was focused on loosening the sudden tightness of his muscles. Soon enough he spoke again, though he wasn't about to attempt that conversation again, as unsatisfied as he was by your answer.

“Why are you here?” He asks and this time he finds that his voice is weaker than he'd have liked it; betraying the words that he had meant to sting.

Yet despite that, he watches as your breath pauses and your grip tightens. How had you managed to grow even more tense?

“I don't have anyone else left” you answered, your eyes finally missing him, flickering away for what was barely a single moment. In spite of how hard he fought against it the painful beating in his chest left him worried. He tried not to show it. He hoped he hid it well enough for you not to notice.

The silence seemed to get to you. That or his stare had. Either way you continued.

“I just need somewhere to stay. Just a few months. I’ll figure it out by then and be gone. Just long enough to get some cash together” you try to explain and finally he spots something familiar in you. But it is not a part of you he once knew that he sees. No, he spots something else.

“You’re running from something” he interjects at his realization, your movements freezing at his accusation. You don't seem shocked so much as worried. He hated that you would ever even try to hide the fact from him.

“Yeah um…I am- but it's- it's complicated okay? I just need somewhere to stay-”

“Is it someone?” He questioned, your words lips closing into quiet once more. It stings a strange part of his soul that you seemed so unwilling to tell him outright.

“...It doesn't matter” you finally speak and he hides how his fists tighten. He hates that he cares at all. He hates that he can't help it.

Your plea for shelter lingers in the air for moments longer than either of you cared for. You couldn't handle the quiet of that for long.

“I don't have much, but I'll give you what I can. I'll get a job and pay you back I-”

“No” he shut you down immediately. Your face fell, the desperation of your gaze fixed on him.

“You can stay and I don't need your money” he clarifies and despite the lack of smile, your relief is more than visible.

“Thank you. I promise I'll be gone as quickly as I can get everything in order” you try to instill any sort of confidence that you would be of little bother, that he would hardly notice you here at all.

He couldn't help but feel his stomach fall to his feet at the words.

The first month you stayed had been…surreal, to say the least. For the most part the two of you did pretty well with avoiding each other. For moments of the day he would even wonder if that had been some weird fever dream. You? At his door? After so long? It all just felt so strange. Stranger yet that the circumstances were all but ideal. He thought about asking further, about pushing for what it was that led you here and why you had even been running in the first place. But he found that his tongue nearly died in his mouth every time he saw you around. It almost didn't feel real.

And despite the cold that still ran up his spine, the emptiness that found refuge in his chest, the blood that sat heavy in his veins; despite it all…

You still felt like home.

Yet you were still so far out of reach. Words seemed like complicated equations, conversations like rocket science. His words never left the way he wanted them to, his tone always the wrong amount of harsh. And with the way your eyes tracked his presence when he was around, almost unwavering from him…it all just felt so hard to explain. Something had changed, of course it had. It had been years since you two had last seen each other and it had hardly ended on good terms. Still, there was something so wrong here. Something in the way you ever so slightly leaned from him, or the way your eyes flickered to the closest door, or how it all seemed so familiar in a way that wasn't like home. In a way that was more like the warzones he'd grown so accustomed to.

And he could just see it, that fight in your eyes. That twitchiness that you had never had around him before. And he couldn't help but wonder why. Why. Why. Why. Why. What were you fighting and why did it almost feel like it was him?

It was horrible, the way that question had finally been answered.

The front door had slammed open, startling him from the dinner he had been making and setting every one of his senses aflame. It slammed shut before he had even made it to the hall and when he had he could hardly bring himself to swallow the scene.

You stood pushing on the door like it would hold damn near the whole world at bay. With how violently you were shaking he almost wished it would. Your hiccups and sniffles filled the air as you tried and failed about a hundred times to turn the lock. Your clothes were disheveled, your jacket gone and your shirt caked in dirt and…

No, no that wasn't…

“Y/n?” He hardly even remembered opening his mouth before your name fell out. Quiet and worried in a way he hadn't meant to show.

When your head snapped to him all of his insides twisted in a sickly mess. Features he remembered days of leaving soft kisses on were now warped by deep bruises and bleeding wounds. Your eyes wide and glossy, your skin a mix of blood and tears. Your breath had hitched as if any movement would turn him against you. He couldn't help but feel worse at the notion. He moves. Just one simple step closer.

And suddenly it's as if a dam breaks. Your murmuring words he can't understand, a panic on your face he hadn't seen in all of the time he's known you. You yell and thrash and he can't tell if you even know what you're doing, he can't tell if you even see him anymore. His body almost acts on instinct as he quickly grabs the nearest cloth near him before making his way to you. He places the cloth in your hand, your body flinching in a way that makes him hesitate a moment before he guides you to cover your bleeding nose.

“You gotta breathe” he mutters, no longer attempting to cover the look of confused worry that covers him. You seem to try, but a bloody nose makes that a little difficult. In the meantime he guides you to the bathroom, sitting you down as he fishes out a medkit. You stop talking altogether at that point, going eerily silent.

And it stays that way as he wipes away the blood and around deeply forming bruises. It stays as he cleans the wounds and makes sure your nose isn't broken. It stays when the peroxide hits your skin and when the bandages cover them. It's a horrible, false silence. A silence so loud his ears ring, though that could have just as well been the adrenaline leaving his veins. For a while he's fine with it, for a while it's better than the terror-filled panic, for a while it's better than the way you stared and twitched and sobbed.

But then you get a look in your eye. A dangerous look. A look he's seen too many times in his line of work. And suddenly the quiet isn't so safe anymore.

“Still with me there?” He asks in an attempt to gain your attention. To his relief your eyes flick to him and nod. He doesn't quite like how quickly they had turned cold again. In fact he's sure he hates it.

“What happened?” He finally asks and watches how the distant look in your eyes dissolves. Your lips quiver as you try desperately to hold onto a calm that wasn't coming. Your hands grip tightly onto a bloodied paper towel in your hands.

“I-” your voice cracks and you clear your throat. Your eyes avoid him like a simple glance would kill you.

“It's complicated I-” the panic in your voice rises again.

“I have to go- John I have to go-”

“Now hold on” his hand lands on yours, your body tensing under his touch. He can't help but feel sickened at the thought of you scared of him.

“Whatever happened, I promise it's safe, alright? No one's getting in here. You're safe. Just…” he pauses for a moment, his eyes showing his hesitation before he, as gently as he's ever done anything in his life, he places your hand to his chest. Your fingers flatten against him, familiar and comforting, as he lets out a deep breath.

“Just breathe” he almost pleads, something he finds himself regretting almost immediately. Yet despite feeling that he was doing a horrible job, it seemed to calm you all the same. Much to his relief you managed a few deep breaths, your hand still pressed on his heartbeat that he forced to slow.

He is surprised, after all of this, to hear a faint laugh fall from your lips. Quiet and saddened yes, but a laugh nonetheless. And he couldn't have felt more ridiculous than at that moment.

“What?” Or perhaps it seems he could, his dumbfoundedness not hidden in the tone of his voice. It isn't hard for you to wipe the smile from your face, if it had even really been a smile at all.

“Nothing I just…I remember when I had to do this for you” your tone is bittersweet.

“I never thought I'd be on the other side” your voice is breathless and strained, a certain feeling behind it he couldn't quite place. He finds himself snickering along as the once painful memory hits him. He would agree. He never imagined someone strong enough to pull him back to reality could ever need him to do the same.

“Yeah…world's got a fucked up way of making circles” he replies and you give a half-hearted attempt at agreement. And it seems that a moment too soon you pull away and he feels almost as if you take his heartbeat with you.

“Yeah…Yeah, it does…” you murmur, a sentiment far too true found in the quiet whisper. There is almost silence until you speak again.

“I'm sorry” the apology falls in a way not meant to ever leave you. The sound was as sorrowful as seeing a bird stripped of its wings. An act against nature, a horrible twisting of what should be.

“I’m sorry” you break again, though this time you don't shatter so much as you crumble. And he knows then that those words aren't for him. That he hated how they sounded coming from you, how they weren't what he wanted, how he could only wish you'd take them back so that he didn't have to feel the hole in his chest trying to carve its way through his skin.

And how useless he felt then, sat in front of your broken state knowing that you had once done the same with him. How utterly and completely he knew that there was nothing he could do to wipe this looming, horrible terror that was held so deep in your eyes he could only see a warped reflection of himself in them.

And he simply couldn't handle it. He felt weak, hopeless, useless. But what was there to do? He had never seen you so truly pained, he had only ever known the other side of this situation.

So he did the only thing he could. He pulled you close, slow and cautious, before the both of you crashed into one another. Hands that had twitched at his mere presence now held him as tightly as the shirt on his back. As if, should you let go, you'd be cast adrift again into the crimson rapids. And he could only hold just as tightly, hoping that if he just held on tight enough that the falling parts of you would stay, that he might save even a single piece from the agony you were lost in a sea of.

You two stayed like that for a long while, hardly caring about that time that passed. At some point, so overtaken by the exhaustion of your endless bouts of tears and the near-death experience you'd just endured, you'd passed out in his arms.

And like some cruel twisting of a memory he held dear, he carried you to bed. He tried not to glance too much at your features, the cuts and bruises sending sickening waves through him, as he laid you down. He took a shaky breath as he covered you in a blanket, taking care to be quiet as he left the room.

In the absence of your presence there was only rage.

A fire unlike any he had felt struck him like lightning, a burning hatred at who could have ever done this to you. His feet moved but his mind was preoccupied with who and why and- god why didn't you just tell him what happened? What could have ever led to this?! What had you done? Who had you upset?

The thoughts plagued his mind as he set up his spot on the couch. Yet when the pillows had been laid and the blanket placed, he could not find it in himself to rest. He could only pace and snarl and burn with such a horrible feeling. How dare they. How dare they. How could anyone do this to you? To his-...

It was only those final words that managed to slow his thoughts, a sinking feeling resting in his chest.

Not his. You were not his. Not for a long while, not anymore…

But there was no hiding the fire in his skin. No denying how deeply he held you, how desperately he wished to never let go again. He could only curse whatever higher power could hear him. Curse them for ever doing this to either of you. Of ever letting him know your name.

It was a horrible pain to want so desperately to have you back, but there was no pain worse than you returning in broken pieces. Worse yet to know that, maybe, had he done things differently, you might not have left his arms to shatter against a world he could have protected you from. To know that he failed.

He lit a cigar with a shaky hand. He knew then that there would be no sleeping tonight.

Your eyes were heavy as they opened, protesting against your attempts to wake up. You thought, in your groggy state, that it might be better to never open them again, to give in to what they demanded from you. To close them a final time.

But it was only a passing thought in your utterly exhausted state. A whisper held at the back of your mind just waiting for the moment that it might scream itself into existence. But not today. Not now, at least.

And so you forced them open, a groan halfheartedly falling from your lips as you pushed away the comfort of infinite dark. You managed enough strength to sit up, regretting it almost immediately when a dull pain burned your side. You would have been confused, maybe even a little worried, if not for the returning throbs of the many cuts along your face and arms that swiftly and brutally remind you of yesterday.

So close. You had been so close to the end. You were lucky to have made it out alive. It was honestly a miracle you had.

Cornered, like an animal. You remembered the feeling well. Trapped right where you didn't want to be. It was like he could smell your terror as he bared his wolfish teeth in the warm street light. A wicked smile, one that scorched itself into an unhealthy scar upon you. Never to be forgotten, a thing of nightmares.

You had run as far as you could go, lungs empty and feet sore, your hands covered in the warmth of your own blood as you tried to hold even just a part of yourself together, to manage to escape through the skin of your teeth once more. You had done it before, but a second time was surely a test of fate.

You had been lucky, then, that a bus was passing by. It shouldn't have been there so late so far out of town. But by some higher being or just through the world's sick way of fucking with you it was. You had never been so relieved to be met with headlights in your life; you practically screamed in relief as you waved it down. Your hunter was as scared as a doe in them, slithering off into the shadows like the coward you knew him as. The driver, a woman in her forties, looked horrified at the state of you. But you had brushed off her panic and worry and told her to simply drive. You were thankful the bus was empty. You couldn't have handled anyone else's questions in your utter panic.

You had only been a five-minute drive from salvation, from the home you had long since abandoned, only to return to in your time of need. Five minutes.

He must have known. Someone might have told him or you might have mentioned John in one of your many pain-filled benders. It didn't matter. He knew where you were, and it seemed his patience had only grown thinner. You were sure now that he would not stop with breaking you under his iron grip, but utterly destroying you.

All at once these thoughts hit you, flooding your mind with panic and worry. You're breathing shallowed as your mind falls down this path, stopping only when the end of the memory comes to mind.

John…

You tried to move him from your mind, to rid yourself of the sinking feeling that came when you thought of how quickly he had jumped to help you, even after years of silence and weeks of ignoring each other. You try not to think of his attempts at gentle touch, calloused battle-worn hands not quite built for the kindness he was showing. You remove from your mind how he held your hand to him, how it seemed like no time had passed from when you left with how quickly he knew what would truly calm you. And most of all, you try to remove the feeling of his arms around you, desperate and worried and familiar and home. You try, as little as that means nowadays.

You deduce that sitting in silence isn't the best way to distract you from these things, and so you finally stand from the bed, noting only then that you don't remember falling asleep here. But you let that slip your mind as well. You prefer the static buzz of being busy over thinking too much about any of this. It only made things harder.

So your feet moved without you, intimately familiar with the halls and doors and light switches. After all, it had been your home, once upon a lifetime ago.

You hardly stagger as you make your way to the kitchen, accustomed to the constant lull of pain in the back of your mind. A whisper of its own, and one you realized it better to ignore.

You are close to allowing the static buzz to take over, close to numbing and leaving your brain on autopilot. Close to the preferable numbness. So very close. But upon taking a step into the kitchen, you are met with a sight so twistedly familiar you are shocked back into yourself.

John sat at the table, two plates laid out and coffee poured. A quaint scene, an old one. A memory from a different time, faded and aged and different in ways that leave you sick. Because he didn't stare with the complete adoration of a man in love, nor did his eyes avert, distracted and tired, as they had on the day you had left him here. But instead they tear through you. Locked on you the second you entered. It amazed you how his eyes of crystal blue, so similar to that of a frozen storm, could burn through you so easily.

You think for a moment that this is it. That he's going to kick you out with only a final meal and that you are going to be thrown to the starved wolf you knew lurked just outside. You prepared yourself to plead, to apologize, to ask for any bit of mercy he might show you. After all, you had lost your dignity a long time ago, and it wouldn't be the first time you had begged for your life.

But then, as if the elements of himself collided, the fire in his eyes cooled to a warm glow. Soft and familiar and warm, warm, warm.

You almost wished then that he'd return to his fiery glare.

“Sit, love” It isn't a command as much as a quiet plea, his voice is soft and calm and maybe even worried, a rare combination for him. It's a sound so foreign now that you almost don't trust it. His expression falls further as you hesitate.

“I just wanna talk” he tried to explain, to give you any reason to trust him. It works, though only barely. You take a hesitant seat across from him.

The smell of the food hits your nose and only then do you realize you hadn't eaten last night. The waft of coffee only seems to make things worse as it reminds you of how tired you are.

“We can eat first” you can't tell if it's a question or a statement, but either way you take the opportunity. You were too weak to deny how much you needed this right now. You would regret it later, you were sure, but for right now you would allow yourself this small indulgence.

And so it was quiet, absent the sound of forks hitting plates. Quiet in a way that you weren't sure if you liked or despised. You wondered if it even mattered.

It was a few bites in and halfway through your coffee that he spoke again.

“I saw a butterfly this morning” his words cut the silence in a way that baffles you out of the static once more. Out of your head and your thoughts and the sinking feeling in your chest.

“Oh?” You respond almost too naturally, almost too much like you used to. If it weren't for the heaviness in your voice, you might have even forgotten that this wasn't like it used to be.

“Yeah. Should’ve seen it. It had all your favorite colors” his words are almost light in spite of the tense atmosphere and, despite it all, it manages the smallest smile from you.

“I’m sure it was beautiful” you reply and watch as the look on his face changes. You can't quite read it, a strange softness is all you can take from it. But there never fails to be that lingering sadness there. That worry. That pain you can't quite bring yourself to address. And so you look away, your eyes turned down to your food once more.

The silence that follows threatens to suffocate the two of you, drown you in this horrible replication of better times, and punish you for daring to seek even this small comfort. And so, knowing that there is only one way this will go, he finally asks.

“What happened last night?” You feel your throat tighten almost immediately, not daring to pick up your fork when the weight of that question falls atop you. You find it hard to give him an answer, let alone one that might satisfy him.

“I…It’s…” you struggle and hope that maybe you might just disappear, that maybe all of this was some horrible nightmare you'd wake from. But as seconds passed it became clear it wasn't. Clearer still that you had to give him an answer after what he'd seen.

“It's complicated” you try to explain but you knew the moment the words fell that they wouldn't be enough. You think that maybe he'll be angry at this, that he'll slam the table like he had before and demand a better explanation. But a glance shows that his expression only deepens in its worry.

“Then explain it to me” he pleads once more. It was a rare day he ever pleaded, begged, or even so much as asked for something. Rarer yet that it's genuine. Your mouth goes dry and silence remains. You can't bring yourself to look at him.

“Love-” his hand reached for yours and the contact shocks every nerve in your body. You flinch away from him, regretting it a moment later when his worry turns to pain on his face. He retracts his hand with the most hesitance you've ever seen from him; a man so usually sure of himself.

“I just need to know what's happening. I-...” he falters, another rare sight. He takes a shaky breath.

“I won't hurt you” those words come out stronger than the rest, as truthful as he could have possibly made them. And, despite its softness, it seems to tear apart the very walls you had built to keep you safe.

But safe from what, exactly? When the wolf lays outside, and this place is your final sanctuary, what does that make him? You weren't quite sure, but somehow you knew that whatever this was, it felt…well it felt familiar at least. A devil you knew well enough to find some comfort in the warmth of.

Your head turns away, arms held against you in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself. You think, for a moment, that you might run from here. That you might leave everything behind in the wake of the words that threaten to leave your tongue.

But he wants the truth. And who are you to deny him it? It couldn't make things much worse than they already are.

“Where do you even want me to start?” You ask him, voice hollow and cold and empty. There was no more of yourself to give than a story. You wondered if the sacrifice would even matter.

“Wherever you need to” he answers back, his shoulders squared: tense. You had half a mind to comfort him, but you doubt it would've helped. So, with a deep breath that does very little to calm your nerves, you finally answer him.

“When I left I didn't want to start over, but I didn't want to see you again either. So I moved a few towns over” you started, your voice detached from yourself, like it came from someone else entirely.

“A few months later I met someone. He had been so kind at first. Loving, attentive. He made me feel like I existed in the world again. Made me feel wanted” your words murmur and a snarl forms, even talking about it makes you sick.

“I was stupid, blinded, didn't pay attention. Didn't care, really…” you pause, your hands indenting into your skin as if to keep you where you sat, as if to stop you from fading from here.

“I married him” your words come out much more mournful than you mean to, your snarl nothing more than a quivered lip now. You had married that monster.

You didn't have to glance at John to know the look on his face. Anger, rage, a twisted form of jealousy. It was a knife to his back, you imagine, that you might have married another man before he had ever put a ring on your finger. But you weren't quite sure you cared anymore. After all, it wasn't you who had been so cold to him those final days you were together.

“I didn't realize who he was until then. He'd always been…rough. Arrogant, quick-tempered, prone to violence. But I guess I just thought that he wouldn't ever treat me like that. That I was different. That he loved me” your words shake and you do your best to pull those broken strings together. To steel yourself. To not be so pathetic.

“I was wrong…” you allow yourself the pain of those three words and in so scar your heart further as you admit it. He had never loved you.

“I tried to get away, I tried to start over again, but he wouldn't let me leave. I can't get a job without him finding me, can't get a place to stay, can't start over. I thought maybe if I came here, maybe if my name wasn't on anything, maybe if I was careful enough then I could figure it out…I was wrong about that too” you curse yourself when tears sting at you. You do your best to hide it, to disappear in front of his own eyes. But there was only so much you could do. Hiding from him had never been your strong suit.

John feels…well he doesn't quite know. A mixture of everything horrible, he thinks. He can't stand how your eyes avoid him as the words fall, how with each passing word he can only find regret. Regret that he hadn't held you closer, that he hadn't kept you safe. And he hates that the consequences don't fall to him, that he wasn't the one burned, that instead he watches you crumble and break and shatter. He had loved you, he had always loved you. That hole in his heart, that void you filled. Ripped from him and torn apart as swiftly as a flower in a stormy ocean. He hardly had the mind to blame you anymore, hardly had the heart to. He could do nothing but blame himself and the cruel creature he could hardly call human. The one who had dared to lay a finger on you. The one he could imagine tearing apart with his bare hands.

There are questions that circle his brain, words that travel from the top of his head and almost meet his tongue. ‘What’s his name?’ ‘Where can I find him?’ ‘How long had this been happening?’ ‘Why hadn't you said something sooner?’

He lets out a shallow breath, his eyes closing in thought for only a short moment before he stands. The sound of the chair startles you into watching him once more. His steps are slow, and deliberate, as they make their way towards you. You lean away for a moment, as you had since you'd gotten here, but it calms as you watch him. His movement is predictable; safe.

And soon, just as slow and just as softly, his hands fall on your face as they had hundreds of times before. Calloused but warm, a softness he only ever found with you. He is gentle along your bruises, careful with them. You can't look from him now, eyes searing through him. But he had nothing to hide, and so he stared back.

“We're gonna figure this out” he speaks to you, words like comforting slashes against your soul in how they tear your emotions from you. Your attempts to hide were all but vain now, tears falling freely and only barely held from a sob. Your breaths shake as your eyes close into the comfort, hands falling onto his as if he might just slip away. He presses a kiss, hesitant yet desperate against the crown of your head.

“He ain't ever hurting you again” his words are a promise as he mumbles them against your skin before placing his head against yours. You make no attempt to pull away, instead finding that a broken smile falls on your lips, one of utter relief. Somehow you find a will to speak.

“I missed you”

Potential part two? Maybe? Probably? Definitely?

#call of duty x reader #john price x reader #gender neutral reader #tw: violence #tw: mentions of depressive and suicidal thoughts #tw: heavily implied domestic abuse #tw: blood #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #john price #john price mw2 #john price mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw3 #captain price #call of duty

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fanfiction4sooya · 10 months

Note

God I just read the wolf hybrt yujin and twas fucking hot wtf, btw wondering if u can make wony version of it? Add little flavor and some spice on it? 🧂🌶️ Thanks 🧏

Hi sweetie!!! Sorry for the long wait, I was thinking of this and realized that wony would never be a wolf hybrid... They are too aggressive and on the nose with it. She'd definitely be a panther hybrid mistaken for a kitty, though...

(about the flavor and spice... I don't know what you meant by that, luv 🤠 but here we go)

Like imagine her being so small and cute when you two were kids, always so playful and fun but overall very jealous in a subtle way. You always thought it was because as a cat they are more individualistic and in a way it was just... x10.

Growing up she got more reserved to others but always very warm to you and your parents. Much taller than cat hybrids and her fangs and claws were bigger and stronger too, so imagine something else...

She got so stressed with the sudden change in routine with you two going to college and stuff that it literally trigged her first rut a day before the two of you were separating. And by separating I mean sleeping in different dorms only.

"Are you going to leave me for someone else?" She trapped you against the door of your room, lowly purring but it made you tremble, the things in the room vibrating with how powerful it felt.

"wony..." You tried to remove yourself from her grip but she was too strong. She smelled sweet and intoxicating. "of course not baby..." You felt her member grind against your stomach, big and warm.

"Prove it to me then" She hissed on your ear. "You are mine. Prove it" She let go of your hands and crossed her arms over her chest, lifting one eyebrow.

You didn't know what to do, her defying eyes scaring you, turning you on. You could see the outline of her cock through her pants and oh, you wanted it in your mouth. Your fumbled a bit with her zipper until you could open it, getting on your knees and giving it a good lick to it's tip. She rolled her eyes, unconsciously grabbing the back of your hair to pull you into her to fit her whole length inside your mouth.

You tried to push her by the thighs but all you could feel was the wetness seeping through your panties, how every time she blindly thrusted inside your mouth you felt more and more aroused. She was fucking your face so good it was maddening how you've never experienced that before, you unconsciously started to pull her into you by the hips. You came together, her seed spilling in the back of your throat as you squirted on your panties, wetting the floor, shaking so hard you blacked out.

When you realized she was already easing her whole cock in your tight cunt, laying you on the ground. She had ripped your clothes and you didn't even see it happening, moaning loudly when you felt the sudden stretch. She bit your collarbone, licking your lips to passionately pull your hips to hers, growling.

You started crying for more, locking your ankles behind her back, her beautiful face contorting as your cunt throbbed on her dick.

"wony please come inside, please" you pleaded and she smiled slamming even harder, making her life's mission to cum inside you over and over again.

"my pretty little cock sleeve" she purred on your ear. "I'll make sure to give you my pups" she closed her eyes, clawing at your hips. It hurt but you wouldn't complain. She was feeling like that because of you, it was only fair you'd let her take it out on you.

She locked your hands over your head with one hand, still fucking you hard. Her seed felt so good on your womb it made you cum again; as your orgasm washed over you she didn't even wait for you to open your eyes again, turning you to be in all fours as she kept the in and out pace, her cock reaching even deeper. How come did she have so much stamina? Fuck.

"wony please, enough" you cried, face scratching down on the cold floor.

"it's enough when I tell you it is" she said through gritted teeth, pulling you by the hair to bite your back and neck.

She kept that for god knows how much time, spilling inside of you a number or times as well. You were already in and out of consciousness, your cunt red and puffy and so full it was leaking from your hole.

She put you in all fours again, cumming one last time but on your back, purring loudly as she did so. Her cheeks red and her eyes focusing on watching your body spasming because of her, contorting for her.

"I bet you won't ever try to leave me now..." She hugged you close, licking you. Cleaning you with her tongue, careful not to hurt you with it's spikes.

"I won't wony, I swear..." You weakly said, falling asleep as she kept licking you and purring against your skin.

#gxg smut #ive x reader #ive wonyoung #wonyoung x fem reader #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung smut

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sister-lucifer · 2 years

Note

Question. Would you do a version of that 'Can I ride you till I feel better' fic but with bottom/sub Obey Me boys? Because that's some tasty writing but I'm not big on me or my MC being on the receiving end.

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” (Part 2)

Read part 1 here

Demon brothers x Reader (Separately)

This time, it’s the brothers’ turn to have a bad day, and they can think of one thing that will make them feel better.

Reader is male

Content/Warnings: Riding, pre established relationships, implied dom/top reader

like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and it really helps me out

*Asmodeus is AFAB and uses he/she pronouns

Notes: Dear god nonny i am so glad you suggested this. muah i love your brain

Lucifer

He was used to being swamped with paperwork, but this past week had been even worse than usual

Today in particular had brought him to his limit

He stomped into your shared bedroom, letting the door slam behind him before sitting on the bed next to you and cradling his head in his hands

“Lucifer, love? What’s wrong, honey?” You asked softly, reaching out to rub his shoulder

“Busy day…Busier than usual, I mean,” Is all the explanation he offers, but his voice carries more than enough of his exasperation for you to see how tired he is

You sighed and opened your arms to him, and he gladly accepted your offer for a hug. He pushed you down onto your back, and you expected him to lay next to you, but instead he hovered over you

“…Luci?”

Suddenly his hands were on you, tugging at your clothes and pulling off anything he could

“I need to ride you until I feel better.”

The request was unusual, but how could you say no when he was so eager?

Besides, he deserved it for working so hard

Be aware though, he’s not going to “feel better” until veeeeery late into the night (maybe even early morning)

Mammon

You could hear Mammon whining your name all the way down the hallway before he reached your room

He threw the door open and groaned loudly, drawing it out until he flopped face first onto the bed

“Mammon?” You called, but got no response

At least not until he sat up, groaning even louder and practically tackling you into the bed. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how dramatic he was.

“Oh Mams, what’s wrong, huh?”

“Everything! Everything about today sucks. And I didn’t even get to see you all day…”

He snuggled into you with a childish whine as you pat his head, whispering apologies and soft assurances. Apparently this wasn’t enough, though.

“I’ve missed you so bad…” He muttered into your neck, “…Can I ride you until I feel better?”

Of course you agreed, who would say no to the Great Mammon?!

Especially when he was offering to do all the work, which rarely happened

Be prepared for him to rant to you after (and maybe even during), though

On the bright side, the anger will make him go faster

Leviathan

He was so quiet, you didn’t even notice him until you heard the click of your door and looked up to see a teary Leviathan

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” You cooed, keeping your voice soft and gentle. Levi often had trouble regulating his emotions, but luckily you knew just how to help him

He sniffled as he crawled into bed, settling between your legs as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his cheek to your chest

“B…Bad day, i-is all…” He stuttered, “I-It’s really not even that big of a deal, I just…it was too much…”

You stroked his hair gently, assuring him that it was okay to be upset at the little things sometimes

You stayed this way for a long while, until Leviathan gazed up at you with an odd look; the look he gives you when he wants something but doesn’t want to ask

“Levi? Do you need something?”

“I…I know what’ll make me feel better…”

“Oh?”

You could see how flushed he was, how his face contorted in embarrassment as the next words left his mouth

“Would…would you let me ride you ‘til I feel better? P-Please?”

He deserves it, so of course you do! Besides, you wouldn’t even consider denying him when he’s asking so politely

Make sure you praise him a lot, though, and tell him how good he looks with those pretty tears streaming down his face

That’ll really make him feel better

Satan

You could tell Satan was pissy the second he walked in from the way he huffed and puffed all the way over to you

He sat down with his chin in his hand, looking awfully annoyed

“Ugh, today could not have ended soon enough.”

“That bad, huh?” You asked as you wrapped him in a hug from behind.

“Even worse. God, I hate all those idiots…”

“Well being a mean Mr. Grumpy Pants about it isn’t gonna help.”

Satan sighed, turning to you to return the hug.

“I know, I know, sorry…but I know what can.”

“Hm?”

When you looked up he was smirking down at you, and the next thing you knew he had planted himself firmly on your lap

“How about I ride you until I feel better? We can call it…stress relief.”

Well that was more than enough persuasion for you

Satan isn’t very fast or rough, but god is he thorough

You’ll both forget all your worries

Asmodeus

Ever the drama queen, Asmo practically fainted onto your bed

Even if his dramatics were charming, you couldn’t help but scoff a bit under your breath

“Asmo…? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, my love!” She drawled, “You’ve no idea! Today was absolutely abysmal, abysmal I tell you! I could just cry…Or, I could if my makeup wasn’t so perfect.”

Priorities.

Being as affectionate as she is, it was no surprise when she pulled you down into the bed and into a hug

He gave you a brief outline of the days terrible events, though with plenty of sidetracks about how unfair the world is to him and how fragile he is

When she was finally done, she sighed loudly and cupped your face in her hand

“I could really use a pick-me-up…” He began, a sensual undertone clear in his voice

You already knew what he was going to ask; there was always one thing that made Asmo cheer up:

“Yes, Asmo, you can ride me until you feel better.”

He squealed with excitement, mood already improving and he tugged off your pants and threw them to the floor

“Oh thank you, thank you my sweet baby! Oh, I’ll make sure you feel as good as I do, don’t worry…ah, I’ve got butterflies already! Hurry, hurry!”

Beelzebub

Beel creaked open your door, calling your name quietly to see if you were in there

He was never ever sad when he had food in his hand, so the fact that he looked so down while stuffing his face with a burger was worrying

“Why the long face, Beel? Did something happen?”

“Just a crummy day…y’know, they happen sometimes…”

“Aw, I’m sorry, Beel. Wanna come sit down and talk to me?”

He’s quick to oblige, shoving the rest of the burger into his mouth and wiping his hands before sitting with you on the bed

You peck his cheek with a loving smile that he gladly returns

You cant help but notice the way he pauses and looks you up and down, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head

“Beel? Do you need something?”

“Well, uh…I know this is a weird request, but…Aw, forget it—“

“No, no,” You reply, taking his hand in yours. “Whatever you need, Beel.”

You could see the faint blush on his cheeks now

“Okay, well…I-I was gonna ask if maybe I could, um…ride you? Until I feel better?”

He was expecting to be shot down, but he lit up when you agreed

He didn’t stop kissing you for a long while; on your lips, face, neck, but he couldn’t help it! You’re the tastiest treat of all

Belphegor

In an odd role reversal, you were the one asleep when Belphie came into your room

You were roused from your slumber when he called your name, yawning and stretching as you greeted him

He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, gaze casted towards the floor

“I know this is gonna sound kinda dumb, but…I had a bad day, could I maybe hang with you for bit?”

You smile and move the blankets, gesturing for him to come lay down

He happily snuggles up against you, basking in the lovely warmth you bring

He seems a bit restless though, which is especially odd for Belphie

“Whats wrong, Belphie? Can’t get comfy?”

“Well, no…I-I want something…”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, waiting for him to continue

“I kinda wanna ride you…maybe it’ll make me feel better?”

Belphie never wanted to be the one doing the work, of course you said yes!

You had to make the most of this ultra rare opportunity

Although, his favorite part is getting to cuddle after

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

S4 Starts with the Demobats Attacking the School / Rejected Stobin Time Travel AU Bit

Eddie's hunched over the table, fingers held up in wicked claws. His hair hangs down as he tilts his head, voice pitched to the maniacal tone of the villain he's finally unleashed on his players.

This is it. The big reveal, the prelude to the boss fight. His players have worked hard to get here, and they stare raptly, caught up in the rising horror of betrayal and terror that Eddie's been weaving around them.

This whole campaign took months to reach this point. His glee cannot be contained and so he channels it into his villain instead; cackling madly before throwing himself upwards, one hand covering his face but with his fingers splayed to showcase one wide eye.

"Now you see your fatal flaw!" Eddie crows. "Pick up your weapons and--"

He slams one hand down on the table.

"--fight --"

He slams his other hand down.

"--for--"

A third bang, far louder than Eddie's own echoes through the room.

Hellfire as a whole jumps --Dustin screaming and Jeff shouting--as Steve fucking Harrington bursts through the drama room's door.

"Why the hell don't you have your walkies!?" He thunders as he flies in, face furious.

Fury bolts through Eddie like lightning, so fast it leaves him temporarily light headed.

"Steve!" Dustin yelps at the same time Mike pissily shouts his name. Both leap to their feet, as Harrington, chest heaving, slams the door behind himself.

"We have a code red!" Harrington spits, eyes focused on the younger Hellfire members. He fumbles with the door for a moment, long enough for Eddie to realize he’s trying to lock it, before the ex-jock strides into the room.

It's not until Steve gets closer that Eddie registers the bat with nails in it. There's a dark, tacky liquid leaking down the sides, little bits of something rancid clinging to some of the nails.

A metallic scent that screams 'wrong wrong wrong!' and oh God.

It's blood.

Real blood, not the fake stuff Eddie once bought for his Dracula costume.

"The Party--" Dustin hisses, head flying comically between Steve and the rest of the table (but most noticeably, down at Eddie’s end, where the older Hellfire members reside.)

"I suggest you read them in or whatever Nance calls it, Henderson, because they're involved now." Harrington says, deadly serious.

Sinclair’s face scrunches up in confusion. "What do you--"

Something screeches outside. The noise raises every hair on Eddie's neck, and temporarily stuns the room into silence.

An echoing scream answers, just as inhuman as the first.

Harrington winces. "Give em the cliffnotes version man, there's a bunch of bats outside."

"Bat bats or--demobats?"

"What do you think, Mike?"

"Fuck." Sinclair hisses under his breath.

"Anyone besides me have any weapons?" Harrington asks and he sounds like he's not hopeful for a yes but is asking anyway.

"Yes Steve, we all brought guns to school. Mines in my locker!" Mike snips, and Harrington levels him with that annoyed look mothers everywhere somehow seem to know.

"I've got my slingshot." Lucas chimes in, patting his backpack. "I uh, I don't go anywhere without it anymore."

Harrington nods, once. His faze ticks up, sweeping across the room to the older members.

"Alright. Anyone else?"

"A knife." Jeff admits after a long pause, his own eyes trained on Harrington's nail bat.

Grant shakes his head, and Gareth, usually the loudest of them, is silent.

A static crackle makes everyone jump, before a tinny voice comes through. "Steve, are you there? This is Nancy."

"Hey Nance. We have an Upside Down situation at the school."

A pause then; "it's not just the school."

"Shit." Dustin hisses. Then adds; "Scale of one to ten, how many bats would you say are outside?”

“Too many.” Harrington answers, running his free hand through his hair. It’s a soothing motion, Eddie has watched Steve enough to know that, but this time something’s different.

Less “shit I flunked my chemistry final” and more frantic, “we’re losing the baseball game and also Hargrove’s being weirdly aggressive again.”

Not that Eddie witnessed such events, just that he had….heard about them.

Sure.

He’ll go with that.

xXx

Wheeler Jr yelps, sliding as a demobat swoops down and beats at him with its wings. Teeth snap close to his head, missing his ear by inches.

He twirls, arms waving madly, until Harrington grabs him, keeping Mike's head down with one hand and jamming his nailbat toward the creature with the other.

The two of them manage to make it into Eddie's van, half falling half jumping, Gareth and Grant slamming the door behind them as demobats dive at them.

"Gun it!" Gareth calls and Eddie does so, the lurch sending Henderson and Jeff tumbling to the floor.

Eddie watches in the mirror as Mike, the most antagonist of the freshman when it comes to Harrington, clings to the ex-jocks shirt for a moment.

Steve's hand has left the back of his shirt, though now Eddie can see his grip has changed to more of a tender hold on the kid. Something familiar and comforting.

"I got you." Steve says quietly and it's only because Eddie's got his attention split between him and the road that he catches it, and the way Mike presses his forehead against Steve's shoulder for a moment before finally sitting up.

Which just confirms what Eddie already knew--for all his bluster and guff, Mike was one of Harrington's too.

xxx

--This is where It turned into the “failed time stobin time travel AU- but I like this part and you need the above for it to make sense so TWO IN ONE--

xxx

Speed running the beginning is starting to become the easiest part, if only because Steve finally knows exactly what to say.

"They're not a part of the party." He mimics Dustin's voice before pointing a finger at him. "We have exactly sixteen minutes before the damn demobats attack you can fill them in in Eddie's van."

The very same Eddie who looks positively aghast. "You actually believe this?"

"Oh absolutely." Dustin says, scooping his nerd crap into his backpack. "Trust me, Steve's not creative enough to come up with something like this on his own."

"Hey." Steve says in warning.

"Also he only gets bitchy like this when something’s gone really wrong." Dustin ads with a look that might have been apologetic--if one squinted and looked at his face sideways.

Lucas, Steve's new favorite, slides slowly next to him. "You sure you're okay?" He asks quietly and Steve pats him on the shoulder for being the only one to care.

“Not at all.” He answers because fuck, he really, really, isn’t. “In the meantime, I need you all to listen very carefully.”

Mike already has his mouth open, patented bitchy look on his face and nope, no, Steve is not letting him derail this conversation.

He let that happen by accident once and Steve’s learned his lesson since.

Pointing at Mike, Steve starts firing instructions. “Do not, under any circumstance, try to fight the bats. They can and have lifted you right off your feet and I will not be jumping for you again.”

Steve’s finger ticked right, to Lucas. “Luc, I know you have your slingshot and a handful of shit to fling in it. You need to sprint to Eddie’s van, then get set up to start shooting so the rest of us have cover. Got it?”

Lucas, Steve was pleased to see, had already dropped into ‘shit’s fucked’ mode. He nods, his own nerdy gear long packed away. He digs through his backpack now, looking no doubt for the slingshot.

Steve was baking him a damn cake when all this was over.

“Gareth.” He continues, pointing at the next guy down the line, watching as he jumps out of his skin (and then looks mad about it, as if it was Steve’s fault he’d flinched.) “You’re weirdly good at counting the bats, so I’m gonna ask you to keep doing that man. As well as keep an eye out for anything ground level, we got surprised by a demodog last time.”

“Shit, really?” Mike groans, throwing his hands over his eyes in frustration.

He was ignored.

Steve skips over Eddie entirely, knowing all too well how much of a trap addressing him could be. “Grant, you’re best on the radio. Once we are securely in the van I need you to call for Nancy and give her an update on what’s happening.

Grant at least, comes onboard immediately, nodding his head and standing.

He got an absolute look of betrayal from Eddie and Gareth for it, but hey that was yet another thing to be addressed later.

Here, Steve slings his own backpack down and off his shoulders, taking the first thing he has in it, out. “Jeff,” He calls, before holding up the box he’d pulled out. “This is a medkit. You know how to use it, so you get it.”

Steve doesn’t toss the box to him this time, instead putting the kit on the table and sliding it over.

Hesitantly, Jeff takes it, eyes darting between Steve and Eddie.

“And Dustin--” Steve says with an air of finality, yanking the second item he’s been looking for out of his backpack, “take off that damn Weird Al abomination and put this jacket on. For some reason the bats keep locking onto it.”

“They want my shirt?” Dustin asks, but does as told, seeming far too delighted at having been given Steve’s old swim team jacket.

“Uh.” Eddie starts, rising to a hunch over the table, head partially tilted.

Steve was pretty sure he did that because he thought it was intimidating (or at least, perhaps was a bad habit because he did it way more often then he didn’t, but that was a thought for Not In The Beginning of The Mess Steve.)

“We have five minutes left before they attack.” Steve says, right over the second (and far more aggressive) “Uh.”

“The van isn’t locked, which is just so safe considering all the drugs in it, Munson.” He can’t help himself, throws the pissiest, most disapproving look he has in his arsenal at a now gaping Eddie.

“No matter who gets to it first, one but Eddie or myself drive it, understand?”

“Oh so now you’re fine with Eddie’s driving!?” Dustin doesn’t stomp his feet but Steve has known him for a while now.

The foot stomping behavior wasn’t one he grew out of until just last year.

“Considering what we’re about to face yes, absolutely I am.” Steve counters rapidly. “Eddie drives like a demon and that’s exactly what we need right now.”

And oh. He’s going to have to say things like this more, because the shocked look that overtook Munson’s face is delightful.

“I’m taking the rear, because I have the bat.” He holds his weapon, watches as the older members of Hellfire finally seem to register what it is. “Everyone got the plan down?”

“Harrington.” Eddie finally starts, voice positively frigid in fury, and Steve is prepared to mouth what is no doubt the line Eddie’s about to say (much like Dustin, he too rarely deviates lines in the beginning) “What kind of game do you--”

Right on cue, something inhuman screams outside.

The bats are here.

“Bicker later, Munson.” Steve says, locking eyes with Eddie. “Goal for now is to survive.”

xXx

The run to Eddie’s van consistently remains to be one of the worst parts of the entire day (minus the other various parts where someone inevitably bites it, thus resetting the entire damn time loop.)

The initial plan had gone smoothly. Lucas reaches the van first, then uses it as a shield while he provides cover with his slingshot.

The little group of Jeff-Dustin-Grant and Eddie all manage to reach it at about the same time, with Steve able to pull the bats off them with a couple of well timed whacks of the nailbat.

This is where everything goes to shit.

Once again, Mike tries to take the spot of “first to die” by swinging his fist at a low flying bat. The tail of the thing immediately catches his wrist, using the momentum of the movement to swing its teeth towards the freshmen’s face.

Steve reverses direction, and knows immediately he won’t be there in time to prevent an injury.

Curses hard, and winds up to swing, right as Gareth snarls out; “Hell no!”

He’s closer to Mike, and despite already having one bat swooping madly at his head, manages to grab the one attacking Wheeler right as Mike trips over his own feet and falls backwards.

A stream of yells and ‘fuck you!’’s follow as Steve bends to yank Mike up, then carries on as wings beat frantically around Gareth’s head.

The other bat dives, latching onto his hip right as Steve manages to grab the one Gareth’s holding. Takes it from him as Gareth screams, trying desperately to rip the demobat that’s gotten its teeth into him, off.

Practice makes perfect, and perfect in this case, is slamming the fucking demobat onto the concrete hard enough to stun it before slamming it to bits with two hard strikes of the nailbat.

Steve isn’t sure how long it takes him to do it, but between Gareth’s screaming and the shrieks of more incoming bats, he knows he doesn’t have much time.

He’s not losing someone. Not here, right at the start.

Not when he already knows how to play out this part.

Gareth manages to rip the creature off himself, and Steve takes it from there, snatching it out of the younger man’s hands and repeating the fling-and-smash move he killed its brethren with.

Does it fast enough that he’s back at Gareth’s side before the guy starts to collapse downward, tears streaming down his face.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.” Steve tells him, pulling him close and forcing Gareth to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Put hard pressure on it man, hard, then we’re gonna run for it.”

“Can’t--fuck---” Gareth pants between hard breaths. Blood’s soaked soaking into his jeans, and a glance at it shows it’s a bad bite.

“You can.” Steve tells him, already pulling them both forward.

It doesn’t go well.

Gareth almost goes down twice, leg buckling, and Steve grits his teeth. Knows neither of them are going to make it at this rate.

“Gary!” Someone screams. He can’t quite tell if it’s Jeff or Eddie, but either way, Mike and Dustin have leapt out of the car, flinging rocks and whatever else they can find into the air.

“Careful!” Steve yells as one nearly belts him, but at least it causes enough of a distraction that he manages to toss the bat ahead of himself, wincing at the sound it makes as it hits the ground.

It’s close to Dustin though, who thankfully, takes his cue and snatches it up.

“Stay!”

It’s a command, and Steve says it like a command. The last thing he needs is for Henderson to go charging into a hoard of demobats, especially not after Steve’s witnessed Eddie dying to them on at least five separate time loops.

If not here, then later.

He can’t think about that now though, not when Gareth’s hissing in pain, fingers clutching onto his shirt like a lifeline.

(He is, he realizes, Gareth’s lifeline. The younger man won’t make it unless Steve gets them to the van.

The bats would take him as their sacrifice and if there is one thing Steve was sworn to stop, it’s people sacrificing themselves--or others.)

“Take a breath.” Steve instructs, before bodily swinging Gareth in front of him.

Ignores the yelped cry he makes, and stoops down to get a good hold around his knees.

Grunts as Gareth, having figured out what’s happening, circles his other hand around Steve’s neck as he lifts the smaller man up into a bridal carry.

Ignores the choked sobs that escape Gareth as he does it. The fucking bat bites hurt and what they’re doing right now is no doubt jostling the shit out of the wound.

He’d be crying too if it were him, not that anyone can pick him up like this.

(Deliberately forgets to recall the two times he’s died precisely because of that.

The knowledge that if he’s injured, the amount of people who can drag him to safety solo is numbering close to zero isn’t a helpful one right now.

Neither is any other thought beyond pure focus on getting Gareth into the van.)

From there it’s a matter of running and not falling on his fucking face--or on the guy currently bleeding on him.

They make it though, a fact Steve is very grateful for.

Hands reach out, all of them pulling Gareth in while Steve hustles the rest, not slowing down until he slams the van door shut and yells for Eddie to gun it.

“Jeff, medkit!” he says, but Jeff, bless him, is already on it.

Grant’s speaking into the walkie he’d been given, Nancy’s tinny voice a soothing balm on Steve’s nerves as he, Dustin and Jeff get Gareth laid out in the van best they can.

“Where am I going, Harrington?” Eddie calls from the front, having floored the van the second the doors had slammed shut.

“He’ll be okay.” Steve soothed quietly, one hand going to squeeze Mike’s shoulder, the other looping around Lucas.

If there’s one thing he swears he will be, through every loop, it’s supportive of the damn kids.

They deserve to know someone is in their corner, even if they don’t always believe him.

#this was originally part of the stobin time travel au #but I couldn't make it work #also I think I posted the bottom half before about mike #steve harrington #eddie munson #hellfire #mike as one of steves kids #s4 au #0o0 fanfics

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gamblersdoll · 6 months

Text

PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER 6

angst, hurt to slight fluff, violence and graphic imagery.

“i didnt do shit.” hakari seethed, his hands scrambling for a good reason he was on the spot. he couldnt understand how it had happened, how possibly he had the money but had no transfers from your account to his or vice versa.

“well, how is it in your account!?” you seethed back. sinji had been long gone, which did make you question him, but you were more focused on hakari.

“i told you, i dont know girl!” he shouted, pacing back and forth and in circles.

you were growing tired. so torn in between believing him or giving him the benefit of doubt. a part of you chanted the fact that he had taken money or manipulated you into giving him some money when you were vulnerable, making it hard for his truth. and another part whispered about the past few months he had spent with you, the dates he took you on, the happiness you hadnt felt with sinji, everything. how could you believe him when your money was infact in his bank account ? how could you not believe him and it was a mistake on the transfers end?

you had been in your head for too long, and that worried hakari too much.

“hello?!” he shouted, snapping his fingers in your face. yes you hated when he did that outside of sex, but you needed that snap back to reality. “i didnt touch your money, babydoll. im way past that, dont you realize that?” he asked, tilting his head and looking at you to hope that you came to your senses.

you looked away from him, holding your arms and sighing deeply. you couldnt decide whether or not to believe him. you should believe him! but what if he actually did take the money? what if he didnt? if he didnt, then who did? would you have to start over? what about hakari?

“for now, just leave kinji.” you said, keeping your voice low and gaze away from him. you were definitely shaking, shaking with anxiety and fear, and deep regret. you dont know what exactly you regretted, but that emotion was just present.

hakari sucked his teeth, grabbing his jacket and then you in a fit. he grabbed you ahold by your arm, pulling to his stature and looked down at you. you felt scared for only a glimpse, knowing he isnt the type to beat on women, yet you got startled.

“when i prove this shit false, its gon be me and you.” he said, with somewhat malice and he gritted his eyebrows together. you and him? you wouldnt understand what his version of that was.

and he left without a second glance, slamming the door behind him. he was pissed, most definitely. pissed wasnt the word to use, seething, he was practically melting with rage and revenge. because he wasnt that kind of boy no more that would do that shit. he was grown, grown and well financially capable of taking care of himself, you, and certainly much more. so the fact he was even accused of theft from you drove him absolutely mad.

and the weeks of not talking to kinji were pure fucking hell. you wanted to reach out, you had to. you could actually say that you missed him, contrary to what you would verbalize. you couldnt land a finger on what had happened. and the truth could be right in front of you. hell, you know its some shit when even maki or panda were shocked– especially panda, since hakari was supposedly to exploit him.

and the house was no better. you were alone, but by choice. sinji of course would reach out to you and talk as if nothing had happened, as if he didnt just cause discord between you, him, and kin. you didnt want sinji, you wanted hakari, more than anything. you made the bed, you need to lie in it.

New notification!

you sprung out of your chair, hoping and praying to the gods it was hakari, your hakari, hoping he had texted you about seeing him, anything to show he was innocent like you wanted him to be.

“Sinji: what you wearin? 👀”

you groaned, throwing your head back and choosing to not reply. maybe you wouldnt talk to hakari ever. maybe that was the end of your chapter.

or so you thought.

it was maybe around one in the morning, you slowly drifting to sleep and having just binged watched some show that was trendy.. what was it? love is blind? you got ran the fuck over with that statement. but you felt your phone go off, groaning in annoyance and opening your phone. your heart shot up.

New notification!

“hakari: link @ that coffee shop you like first thing, dont keep me waiting.”

and you didnt keep him waiting, tapping your thumbs together and tapping your foot. he was sitting across from you, not even looking but you can tell he had maybe finally calmed down, he was unreadable at this time.

“hakari i-“ you started, but he interrupted you by putting his hand up, pausing you before you even started. you almost swatted his hand away, just from natural reaction, but you caught it before he caught you. he whipped his phone out, opening his transaction history and having you read it. “read that shit back to me.”

you read it slow, analyzing and gazing at everything. and you had never felt more confused or just slow.

“… what does any of this mean, kin?” you asked, failing to see the bigger picture or maybe you were just slow with a capital “s”.

“hard transaction deposit.” he repeated back, folding his arms together and looking at you. “that means that a third party went into your account, took your money, transferred it to my account, and was using a burner.” he said, he always did his best to not mansplain things but it was needed.

“okay, so.. was it any of your boys?” you asked, “because didnt you transfer money to me when we started talking again?”

“did i send it, or did i take money?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “i have the option to send and transfer money to you, not take it out. and using last time isnt a good excuse ‘cause you sent it to me. neva had the option to take yo money straight from the accounts.”

“okay, thats true, ill give you that..” you said, chewing on your thumb nail, and causing hakari to move your hand away from your mouth. and receiving a ‘stop biting your nail, mama,’ “then who did?”

“the burner traces back to sinji, obviously.” he said, rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth. “the dumbass forgot about IP addresses and shit. i didn’t expect you to know cause numbers dont go good with you.” he jabbed, but thats just how he was. he wasn’t being a dick, though. he just knew the truth.

“im sorry-“

“oh, you will be.” he paused you again, giving a small smile. that scared the shit out of you, the whole saying of ‘fuck around find out’ shit from him.

“hakari chill out!” you said, but one of his clients holding their hand out in front of you to stop you in your tracks, shaking his head at you.

your current position? watching your.. ex? sneaky link? side man? hakari pounding his fist into sinji’s jaw and focusing only on that. sinji wasnt looking too hot.. shit , when did he ever? he was all bruised and purple, also soaked in blood from his broken nose and limp jaw that was clearly dislocated. this had gone on for at least ten minutes. and everyone knew that it was done now, you question how he was able to take a beating like that from hakari.

but for hakari, for one good last blow, stomped his shoulder blade in, hearing a crunch and sinji writhing in pain.

“ill but you a new carpet tomorrow, yall–“ he pointed at the clientele he had hired for his fight club, and shooing them out. “yall leave but be round at arms reach.” he said. “you.” he pointed at you, beckoning his finger at you, “cmere.” and you had no choice to.

“hak-“

“unt unt, no talking, you gon listen to this shit.” he said, putting a hand on your back and one around your throat softly. “you my girl now, no more sinji, in fact he gon watch me while i fuck you.” he said, gritting his eyebrows together and nibbling at your throat. “you and me.” he growled softly. “i fucken love you.”

you cant get a chance to respond, but you were already on your back while he was gripping at your clothes. it made you aroused, not lying to yourself. you needed this, because sinji hadnt dicked you down, and can never now.

“and bitchboy over here is going to hear, and watch me fuck my girl, whether he likes it or not.”

#jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk leaks #jujustsu kaisen x reader #hakari kinji #kinji hakari #hakari x reader #jjk hakari #jjk fluff #jujutsu sorcerer

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spooky-bunnys · 1 year

Note

Can I make a request for that shion cat cause I saw that imagine and it was sooo adorable

Like the reader find that cat alone and decided to adopt him

And give the cat the love it deserve cause I’d imagine shion cat would’ve had a hard time being a stray

the reader is a sano sibling and while Shinichiro, mikey and Emma aren’t too fond of the cat cause I imagine shion cat being a bit in the dirty side due to being a stray for so long but will always behave because shion cat is terrified of being put back in the street

Okay. I had to add Izana into the Sano household because imagine the chaos! Hope you enjoy!

The Sano siblings didn't know what to expect when (Name) came home late. They thought maybe he had been caught up with friends. Maybe he was helping an elderly around town again. Or maybe he was helping a kid find his missing parent.

No. When (Name) came home he was covered in dirt and mud and smelled horrible. But what caught their attention the most was the sleeping cat he was holding. Thats right. He came home late, with a cat.

"Um. Whatcha got there (Name)?" Shinichiro asked. Dumbfounded like the other two Sano siblings. (Name) grinned and showed off the filthy cat. "I found this cat! He was hard to catch, but when I did catch him, he fell right asleep in my arms. Isn't he cute?"

Mikey opened his mouth but Emma smacked him and Shinichiro coveted his mouth. "Absolutely bud. Why don't you and your new friend go take a bath okay? Mikey will call his buddy's and see what all the kitty will need okay?"

(Name) nodded excitedly and darted to the bathroom. After he left Shinichiro signed and ran a hand down his face. "Emma call Izana, warn him about the cat. Mikey call your cat friends and ask them what I'll need to get. And DON'T say anything bad while I'm out."

The two nodded and quickly got on it. Once he had the list, Shinichiro quickly went out to get the needed stuff while. Emma gave Mikey a look that said "don't fuck up" before heading to her room.

Mikey just shrugged and made himself comfortable on the couch. When (Name) came out of the bathroom, the cat followed right behind him. (Name) walked to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle. The cat jumped onto the counter and stared.

(Name) got the memo and pulled a small bowl down, pouring half his bottle into the bowl. "There you guy bud." The cat purred and rubbed himself against (Name)'s cheek. Making the male laugh softly and give the cat some well deserved scratches.

When Izana came home he knew (Name) had brought home a cat. But he didn't know what it looked like. Now that he does he only had one thing to say. "That's the ugliest fucking cat I've ever seen."

(Name)'s faced dropped and Mikey snorted. Izana didn't stop there though. "Oh my god. It looks like Shion. Listen I already gotta deal with a human Shion. I don't wanna have to deal with a fucking cat version of him."

Mikey by now was laughing. (Name) had honestly looked like he was gonna cry. Of course neither brothers noticed it. Not until the cat hissed at them. Bringing both brothers attention to the teary eyed male. "I-I was hoping you g-guys would like him!"

(Name) quickly stood up, grabbed the cat, and locked himself in his room. Emma came out after hearing the slamming of (Name)'s door, seeing the two paled older brothers frozen in the living room.

"What did you two do!?" The two immediately began blaming each other. "Izana called (Name)'s cat fucking ugly, then started yelling at him for bringing it home!"

Emma stunned quickly turned to Izana. Who immediately retaliated. "Well Mikey laughed about it and made matters worse!" She turned to Mikey, who tried hiding behind the couch. "Oh wait till Shin-nii gets home!"

"I am home. What's going on?" Shinichiro walked into the living room. Arms full of bags and a worried expression on his face. "Where is (Name) and the cat?" Emma huffed and pointed to the males, who were now both trying to hide behind the couch.

"Shin-nii! Mikey and Izana made (Name) cry! He got upset and locked himself in his room!" Shinichiro pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. These kids were giving him so many grey hairs. He stared at the two.

"Explain your parts, and maybe you two won't get grounded." The two immediately started yelling over the other. Shinichiro raised his hand, making the two quiet before pointing at Mikey. "Izana called (Name)'s cat fucking ugly and then yelled at him because apparently the cat looks like one of his gang memebers."

Shinichiro ran a hand down his face and pointed to Izana. "Mikey laughed about it and made it worse." Shinichiro groaned. "I know I said state your case, and you two just snitch on each other. But you guys know how sensitive (Name) is. I mean he looked so happy to have that cat. He also apparently worked hard to catch it."

Shinichiro then glared at the two. "Now I went out and got what was needed for cats. So you BOTH are going to take them to (Name) and apologize to him." The two began to disagree until Emma spoke up. "I'll go ahead and text Kakucho and Takemichi that your guys dates for this weekend are canceled because you two are grounded."

The two quieted down, before slowly grabbing the bags, and making their way towards (Name)'s room. Once there Mikey knocked on the door. When the door opened, the room looked like it had been through a tornado. (Name) sniffles before poking his head out. Still holding the cat.

The two flinched at the sight of dried tears on (Name)'s face. "We brought the cat supplies." (Name) opened his door and allowed the two in. Once everything was set up and placed where it was needed, the boys apologized and (Name) forgave them.

Some things Sano siblings noticed over the next few weeks, was that 1. The cat was completely attached to (Name), and 2. The cat was extremely messy. It made messes everywhere. That (Name) took responsibility and cleaned up.

Which they knew a stray converting to an inside cat would take time and effort. But (Name) has truly surprised them with how responsible he's being for it. After the 3rd week of nothing but messes and chaos, the siblings expected (Name) to give up.

He didn't. Eventually the cat (which (Name) named Shion just to spite Izana), stopped making messes. Well it bothered Mikey and Izana after they would upset (Name). But other then that, Shion became a welcomed member in (Name)'s family.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #shion madarame

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cool-cowboy · 8 months

Text

How Much I Want You

Tags:

Angry sex, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Jealousy, Rough sex, Deep-throating, Praise Kink, Teasing, Biting, Choking, Dirty Talk, guilt

Summary:

“I’d tell you I’ll stay away from him, but that’s not really an option... What I can do… Is show you... Exactly how much I want you..."

In which Leon gets upset over a comment from Chris, then reminds you exactly why you don't need anyone else. He's sweet, but loses it a little, lots of praise for you, as well as an unwarranted apology for cutting off your oxygen and some sickeningly sweet fluff at the end.

Text:

“Christ. I’m gonna fucking kill him!” He storms up the stairs, feet falling heavily on metal, his anger radiating off him, uncharacteristic. He’s seething over nothing, slamming the door open and barely taking the time to hold it for me before he’s off, heading toward his room.

“Leon, he’s harmless-”

“The shit he says to you isn’t harmless, it’s fucking disgusting!” I contemplate giving him some time to cool off, not really a big fan of getting yelled at, but decide against it, not wanting to leave him to stew in his head, afraid he really will go after Chris, not that I think he would, but I’ve never really seen him this upset before, so better safe than sorry. I follow him into his room, door left open for me. He’s sitting on his bed, eyes cast down at the floor, legs spread out, hands gripping the mattress at his sides. He looks good, even with the displeased look on his face.

I approach him carefully, slotting myself between his thighs, gently pressing my hands to his face, coaxing his eyes up to meet mine. “Leon, I’m all yours, okay? You don’t have to worry about him.” He’s not convinced, his displeased expression souring further, though his hands reach up, splaying over my hips, his usual gentle grip replaced with something a little more possessive. I rarely get to see this Leon, dominant, brooding. I like it, not just because it seriously turns me on, but because it’s him, even if it is usually dormant, buried under the sweet, soft version of his usual self.

“I know you are. I trust you I just- I hate it.” He looks pained, his pretty blue eyes clouded with displeasure, all because of some offhand comment. His grip on me is tight, his emotions getting to him, his anger showing through his touch, though I doubt he even notices, not with the way he’s looking at me, trying his best to calm himself down, jaw tensing and untensing as he clenches his teeth.

“I’d tell you I’ll stay away from him, but that’s not really an option.” I let my voice take on a suggestive tone, slipping my hands down his neck, over his chest, smiling when I feel his breath hitch beneath my hands. “What I can do… Is show you...” I sink to my knees in front of him, watching his head tilt down, his hands dropping to hold tight to his comforter, his jaw going soft as he gazes down at me, the anger clouding his expression sending a pleasurable shiver through me. “Exactly how much I want you.” He draws in a shaky breath when I run my hand up his leg, ghosting along the side of his dick, already half hard, god he’s responsive.

“Princess, you don’t-”

“I want to. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” I run my hand over the front of his pants before he can respond, and his head leans back, brows pinched, lips parting to release a heavy breath, his hips pressing up into my light touch before I pull away. “So sensitive…” I smile up at him, putting on a show, laying my head on his thigh, looking at him with low eyes, giving him a gentle squeeze through his cargos, enjoying the sight of him as he gets worked up, swallowing and looking down at me, wary to miss a second. “Do you want me, agent Kennedy?” A needy noise whines, low in his throat, and he presses his hips up, eyes closing in pleasure, quickly opened back up, much too visual to deprive himself of this sight.

“Yes, god, yes, sweetheart. Course I do.” He’s breathless already, and I give him a light squeeze, drawing a groan out of him, watching as he leans back on his hands, looking way too good, staring down at me, eyes hazy, anger buried under lust. “Now quit fucking teasing. Wrap that pretty mouth around me, okay?” He’s not being loud, but the authority in his voice makes me shake, real and undeniable. He’s different like this, not that I mind, he can take the lead if he likes, make demands, I’m happy to oblige, not without a bit of push back though.

“Why don’t you just take what I give you?” I’m teasing, it’s fun, and I love getting him all worked up, it makes the whole thing so much better, desperate, drawing needier noises from him the longer he goes without getting off. A hand pulls on my hair, forcing my eyes up to his, the jerk unexpected, but not unwelcome. He’s being a little rough, the tug on my hair more aggressive than his usual movements, but not painful.

“Come on, princess, don’t make me wait, not this time.” His voice is unbearably low, domineering, though he’s practically begging, leaving no room for me to argue, so I don’t, running my hands up, popping the button, sliding his zipper down, not once letting my eyes leave his face, knowing he relishes the eye contact, smiling when he shivers at the feel of my hand on his skin, pulling on the waistband of his boxers.

His fist tightens in my hair when I use both hands, pulling his pants and underwear just below his hips, which he lifts from the mattress to allow me to get them off. My hand moves, running up the underside of his dick, looking up at him as I grip gently over the tip, running my fingers over the slit before releasing him, a displeased noise rumbling in his chest at the loss of contact, the hand on my hair clenching in a silent warning, one that he’d never act on, though I don’t even think I’d mind if he did, my mind running wild with thoughts of this new, bossy Leon.

I grip the base of his dick, holding it upright, ensuring he has the perfect view as I lick a long stripe from base to tip, lathing my tongue over his slit, taste of pre making me moan against him, the hand in my hair pulling, his own needy noise ripping from his throat as he watches. I kiss his tip, light and loving, before taking the head into my mouth. His hips press into me immediately, and by the flushed, red shade of his dick, he’s already close to cumming. I peer up at him as I bob up and down the first few inches, jerking the rest, my movements purposefully slow as I moan around him, drawing a breathless groan out of him.

“Come on, princess, go a little faster for me. Feels so fucking good, you look so pretty sucking my dick.” He’s close, babbling out whatever comes to mind. I comply, sucking him in over and over, not able to take it all, not with how goddamn big he is, but he enjoys it anyways, leaning his head back and letting out a loud groan, and I pray his neighbors aren’t home as I work my mouth over him, running my tongue along the underside as I come up, lapping at his tip before I slide back down.

“Shit. My god, you’re too good at this. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Fuck, can you go a little deeper for me? Just a little more, please, god.” His hand on the back of my head guides me, pressing deeper into my mouth, close to the back of my throat, not applying any force, but leading me along, pulling me off him before sending me back down. My hands grip his thighs, nails digging in and drawing a heady moan from his lips. My eyes are watering, he’s urging me deeper, hips coming up to meet my mouth, hand pressing into the back of my head. “Shit, princess, you look so good, so perfect for me.” He’s about to cum, his head thrown back in pleasure, muscles of his legs tightening under my hands, his dick twitching and pulsing against my tongue. “That’s it, just fucking like that. Shit, I’m gonna cum. You’re too good, looking up at me with your pretty fucking mouth around my dick. God, you just-” He cuts himself off with a loud moan, and I bury his dick in my throat, gagging around him as he cums, his dick pulsing, hips stuttering, his hand pulling harshly at my hair. “Yeah, baby, fuck, that’s it. Fuck, you’re taking all of it, I can feel your throat squeezing me, you look so pretty taking my dick, princess.” His hand runs down the side of my face, and he looks dazed as he comes down, my mouth pulling off him with a sickly erotic string of spit connecting him to my lips.

I press my hands into his thighs, his legs shaking as I stand up, sure I look fucked out, spit and cum smeared over my lips, eyes wet as I look down at him, blissed out, eyes following my movement, hands coming up to lay on my waist. He wordlessly hauls me onto the bed, my body bouncing when he tosses me up toward the headboard, moving quickly to climb overtop me, leaving wet kisses up my neck, huffed breaths tickling me between each press of his lips to my skin.

“You’re so good to me, princess.” He trails up my jaw, leaning his head down to kiss and suck the skin there, one forearm resting beside my head, opposite hand trailing up my side, fingers slipping up under my shirt, palm pressed flat as he glides it up my side, hot on my already feverish skin. “Fucking perfect.” His teeth graze over the side of my neck, right below my ear, a shaky breath ripping through my chest making him laugh, low and rough against my skin. His nails rake down my side, and he pulls his face back, giving me a painfully hot look, lips red and parted, his eyes hazy with affection, his expression tense with leftover anger.

“He doesn’t know you like I do.” He kisses me, hard, his hand on my side gripping tight to my hip, nails digging into my flesh through my pants, a low groan humming against my lips. His hand runs up, thumb teasing itself under the waist of my pants, his lips trailing down, across to the other side of my neck, leaving messy, open-mouthed kisses, groaning when he sucks on a patch of skin at the base of my throat. “Can’t make you feel like I do.” His hand moves back up, kneading lightly at my breast, rolling my nipple under his thumb as he moans into my neck, turning himself on with his dirty talk. “Right, princess?” I hum quietly, the sound turning into a low whine when he nips at the same spot he was sucking, running his tongue over the marred skin there before continuing on up, pressing his lips higher, his hand gripping my breast, pinching lightly on my nipple, drawing a surprised noise from my chest, my body arching into his touch.

“Say it.” I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I do know him sucking on the spot where my jaw meets my neck is too good, and I let my eyes close, releasing a breathy sigh, reaching up to lace my fingers into the back of his hair. He bites me again, harder, light nips turning more aggressive the longer I keep him waiting. “Say it, princess. Tell me he can’t do this to you.” He lathes his tongue over his bite, soothing the skin, pulling back to look into my eyes, his hand sliding back down, resting on the curve of my waist as he looms over me.

“It’s only you, Leon, you’re all I want.” That does the trick, he groans loudly, bringing his mouth back to mine, his fingers tight on my side, his kisses intense, pressing his lips hard into mine. I pull him in, legs wrapping over his hips, trying to get him closer, but he doesn’t let me, staying firm on all fours above me, his hand moving up to remove mine from his hair, pressing them to the mattress above my head, pulling away to look at me with hazy eyes, moaning loudly at the sight before sitting himself up between my legs, his hands moving to push up on my shirt, one snaking around to press into the skin of my back, lifting my upper body so his other can yank my shirt up over my head.

“Shit, baby, you’re so pretty like this.” He leans back down, kissing and biting down my neck, pressing his hips into me through my pants, groaning into my skin as he makes his way down. His eyes stay locked on mine, watching my reactions intently as he kisses his way down the center of my chest, his hands moving to grip the backs of my thighs when he reaches my stomach, hauling my legs up over his shoulders. “I’d do anything for you, you know that?” one of his hands moves between my legs, lightly running his fingers over my clothed pussy, humming at the choked noise it draws out of me, kissing just below my belly button, sweet, tender, continuing on down, eyes peering up at me, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips as he rubs me over my pants, pausing when his lips reach my waistband, pressing his thumb to my clit, applying light pressure.

“You’re all I need, princess.” He presses his cheek to the side of my thigh, staring up at me as he works his thumb in slow circles, letting out a light moan when I press my head back, the heat of his touch not nearly enough, not with how painfully slow he’s moving, not with all the talking he’s doing. “Everything I want, right in front of me.” His hand tightens on the back of my thigh, squishing my flesh between strong fingers, nails pressing into me. “And he wants to take you away.” He pulls back, sitting himself up, grabbing onto the sides of my pants, easing them down over my hips, down over my legs, watching my face, his chest heaving, expression desperate, needy. “I hope I can be convincing.” He tosses my pants off to the side, leaning back down to press a kiss to my inner thigh, his hands traveling around to grip the fronts of my legs, tight, his eyes watching me. “Make you feel so good you never look at anyone else again.” My legs twitch, and he smiles against my skin, running his lips along, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to my clit, ripping a needy noise out of me, my hips held down by his strong arms when they try to buck up into him, worked up and desperate for pressure.

“Be patient, Okay? I’ll take care of you.” He kisses down, moaning against me when he reaches the wet spot on my underwear, sticky with slick, soaked through from his teasing. “Shit, sweetheart, so wet for me. God, I’m getting impatient now.” He grips both sides of my panties, sliding them down and quickly returning to his spot, on elbows and knees between my legs, pressing his face back into my thigh, kissing whatever skin he can reach, sighing breathily as he pushes my other leg, spreading me open, watching with an obscenely aroused look on his face.

“So pretty, so damn pretty, baby.” One arm stays wrapped around my thigh, keeping me still, the other pressing into my slick, and he groans, trailing his thumb up and down, keeping just below my clit. “I can’t wait to taste you, feel you shake against me.” He presses his thumb over my clit, hard, and I gasp, meeting his lusty eyes before he focuses back on his task, lips parted as he stares, his thumb working slow circles over me, my hips pressing into his arm, trying to get more friction, small, breathless moans pulling from my chest. The noises seem to spur him on, his thumb moving faster, his own moans pressed to the fat of my thigh, the vibration sending a streak of pleasure through me.

“Leon-”

“Shh, baby. Just be quiet, let me show you.” His voice is soothing, authoritative, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, urging me to listen. I close my eyes, relishing the feel of his rough skin running over my clit, moving quickly, my legs beginning to shake, until he slows back down, giving me a pleased look when I peek down at him. I huff, closing my eyes, deciding to be good. He rewards me, licking a long line, dragging slick up, mouth closing over my clit. I arch, moaning loud before I dig my hands into his hair, pulling at it. He groans, pulling his mouth away before biting my thigh, reaching up to pry my hands off him, holding them down against my stomach. “Stop. Fucking sit still.” I moan loudly, writhing against his grip, not used to being forced to stay still, wanting to touch him, get him to make some pretty noises for me. He pauses, looking up at me with a serious expression, wetness shining on his lips, all the way down his chin. I stop moving, wanting him to keep going, the feeling of cold air replacing the heat of his lips making me shiver. “I need you to listen, princess. I’m trying to be good, don’t touch me.” And with that he’s back at it, licking and sucking on my clit, humming against me when I heed his command, sitting perfectly still, aside from the harsh shaking of my legs, draped over his shoulders.

“That’s it, baby, so good.” His voice rumbles against me, not bothering to pull away as he speaks, the feel of his breath shocking, making me flinch, a pleased noise escaping him as he pulls his head back, shifting his eyes up to watch my face, licking the slick off his lips as his hand takes over, rubbing quick, tight circles on my clit, the pleasure almost too good, too much all at once, my thigh held from closing around him by his free hand, his grip insanely tight against my skin, pain from his nails digging into me bringing a new sensation into the mix, a needy moan echoing in the room when I feel my orgasm approaching.

“Come on, you’re so close. Fuck, you look so good, so pretty for me.” He runs his teeth lightly over my skin, humming as I shake, moaning loudly, barely able to keep still when his thumb pauses, dipping back down quickly before moving even faster, pressure perfect, so good another needy noise rips out of me, my hands clenching around nothing. “Yeah? Shit, give it to me, sweetheart. Cum on my fucking fingers.” His tone is expectant, demanding, the aching pleasure coming in waves, fulfilling his wish. “There you go, so good, princess, so fucking good for me.” He doesn’t stop, continuing to rub light circles into me, working me through my climax, a high pitched moan escaping me when he bites me, his mouth wide, eyes staring up at me as he slowly works me back down.

I reach over to dig through his nightstand, and he doesn’t even seem to notice, eyes closed as he sucks on the skin of my thigh, thumb running slowly up and down, moaning against me when I shake from overstimulation. I rip the wrapper with my teeth, gripping his shoulder and shoving him over, rolling to sit over him.

“Hey, what are you- Nngh!” I reach back to roll the condom down over him, already hard again, pre smudging over my fingers when they brush against him. “Hey, stop-!” I don’t, pressing down over him, humming at the stretch, clenching around him when his hands press into my hips, fingers tight on my skin, his eyes screwing shut as I sink down on him. “God, princess, so fucking tight. You-” He cuts himself off, a strangled moan ripping out of his throat as I lift up, slamming my hips back down on him, his dick twitching already.

He grips tighter, lifting me up off him, shoving me down beside him, coming behind me as he slips one hand up my back, resting it just below the back of my neck, holding the side of my face down on his mattress. “I’m not done yet.” He pushes back inside, the stretch making me moan, tight from my orgasm. He leans over me, his free hand slipping around to hold onto my breast, squeezing roughly as he snaps his hips, fucking into me roughly, pain making me cry out when he hits my cervix, the mix of pleasure and discomfort somehow good, and he sets a quick pace, hips slamming into my ass, his grip on my chest pulling me back into him.

“Fuck! You make such pretty sounds, baby. He couldn’t fuck you like this. No, only me, shit! Just me.” His hand on my back slips around, pulling me up and against him with a hold on my throat, the pressure and feel of his heat pressing into my back drawing a loud moan out of me, his opposite hand trailing down to rub my clit, the feeling almost painful. “He couldn’t make you cum all over his dick, not like I can.” He’s pissed, his hand tightening over my throat, his forehead pressed to the back of my shoulder, his hips slamming harder into me the more worked up he gets. I can’t help but enjoy it, the possessiveness lacing his tone, dark and desperate, his hips angling up, head of his dick dragging along my g-spot, a needy moan cut off by his hand tightening, restricting my breathing.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing the life outta me. So good, you feel so fucking good. God, I wish Chris could see this, watch me give you everything you need, show him just how well I take care of you” His fingers rub harshly on my clit, forcing me close to another orgasm as his hips hammer into me, digging painfully into my ass. I can’t breath, his grip bruising against my throat, keeping me tight against him, but the lightheaded feeling washing over me only heightens the intensity of pleasure he’s giving me, a choked moan leaving me when I feel him pulse inside me. “Shit, baby, can’t hold it much longer-” He grinds himself into me, just the way I like, pressing the head of his dick to the perfect spot, rubbing my clit desperately, teeth closing around the skin of my shoulder, a low whine breathed out onto my skin.

“Ah, shit, I can feel you, you’re so ready baby. Come on, princess, squeeze that pretty pussy on me- Fuck-” I can’t even moan, his hand too tight around by throat, his hips slamming into me with all the force and speed he can muster as I clench around him, head thrown back with pleasure, milking him with my orgasm. “That’s it, baby, fuck, yes, so good, sweetheart. So fucking good, so perfect.” He’s cumming, I can feel him pulsing inside me, his whiny moans muffled into my shoulder, his hands impossibly tight, closed over my hip and my throat, before he’s finished, thrusts slowing down to nothing, hands releasing me, and I fall face first into his pillow, completely spent, gasping for breath.

“Shit, are you okay?” He’s back to normal, no trace of anger in his voice, gentle hands turning me over, eyes wide, concerned. “Princess. I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Leon.” His mouth gapes, his breathing quick, still coming down from his orgasm, and worried her went too far. “It’s okay.” He shakes his head, quick, hands clenching at his sides, itching to touch me.

“No, it’s fucking not. I was hurting you- You didn’t stop me- I didn’t even realize- I’m so sorry princess. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?” He runs a hand over his face, eyes wet, scared.

“Leon?” I sit myself up, reaching out to him, grabbing the sides of his face, forcing his eyes up from their place on my neck. “I’m fine, okay? If I wanted you to stop I would’ve made you, yeah?” He doesn’t seem convinced, his swallow sounding forced, his throat dry.

“You should’ve.” He pulls himself away, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, head hanging. I follow him, not wanting him to have time to think too much, my hand resting on his back, rubbing soothing lines up and down.

“Hey, stop freaking out, it’s not that big a deal-”

“Yes it is.” He looks at me, pain clear on his face, his eyes wet. “You… You’re the one person I never wanna hurt. I can’t- You’re too important. I can’t lose you.” I hate it, the look on his face, upset with himself for no reason, thinking something so little can make me give up on him.

“Leon, you’re not gonna lose me, there’s only a few things you could do to get me to dump you, and getting a little rough is not one of them.” I lean forward, trying my best to bring him out of his bad mood, still feeling hazy.

“A little rough…” He’s being sarcastic, but I don’t really blame him. I am downplaying it, he was going a little crazy, but I wasn’t scared. I know he’d never actually cause me any harm, at least not harm that isn’t also pleasurable. I run my hand over his back, down to grip his upper arm.

“Would it help if I said I liked it?” His eyes blow wide, horrified.

“You… liked that? I was hurting you…?” He’s confused, makes sense, I never imagined myself enjoying getting the shit choked out of me, but it wasn’t bad, a little surprising, but not bad.

“Yeah, and getting me off. I don’t know… It was… Intense. I’ve never done anything like that before, but it was… good.” He leans back on his hands, sighing heavily, his eyes trained forward, on the floor in front of his feet.

“I’m not doing that to you again.” His tone is final, not that I would argue him into doing something he doesn’t want to, even if he seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself.

“I’m not asking you to. I like you however you come.” I laugh lightly at the double meaning, and I see a small smile pulling at his lips as well. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to always be so… gentle, if you don’t want.” I hope he’ll take me up on my offer, though it’s not a problem if he doesn’t, I really do like him however he comes.

“That’s what you deserve. You’re too damn good to be treated like that, sweetheart.” He’s too sweet, really, I can’t believe I lucked out so well in the man department.

“You really are a charmer, huh?” I kiss his cheek, his eyes flitting to meet mine, a flattered smile on my face.

“Just honest.”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #smut #re smut #angry smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #held down #choking

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according2thelore · 7 months

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THE POCKMARKS!!!!! holy shit es!dean noticing the way ls!sam is so flinchy - bc he is, god bless jared padalecki for that - and blaming the shit out of ls!dean. es!dean trying to get the reasons why out of of ls!sam but sam just refuses to tell this kid version of his brother anything about lucifer bc he doesn’t need that burden!! AHHH.

every ask you answer is driving me insane. obsessed w your mind

YOU GET IT!!!!

LS!Sam shies away from ES!Sam&Dean's fights when they suddenly yell, he jumps when doors slam, he burns his fingers on the stove and doesn't even notice until both deans rush over to pull them off the hob.

he skirts the darkest corners of the street when they walk, and his head suddenly jerks to the side sometimes when they sit in the library like he's trying to get something out of his head.

and when ES!Dean leans in to finally, shakily kiss LS!Sam, sam presses down hard on his own left palm.

this drives ES!Dean up the fucking wall. he blames LS!Dean. how could he have failed to protect sam this severely? dean has spent his entire life on essentially one principle: look out for sam.

and LS!Dean failed. he couldn't do it. he betrayed who dean is at his very core. and he seemingly doesn't live his life in a pit of unconquerable despair. he doesn't handle sam with the care (read: little kid gloves) that he deserves. he punches sam's shoulder and roughs him up and pretends that he didn't fail sam in every conceivable way.

it's disgusting. it's pathetic.

and you bet your ass ES!Dean tries to take LS!Dean to task about it a few times. i would be surprised if LS!dean actually disputes any of the points he makes. just, "come on, kid, you don't want to do this shit with me. shut up, you don't know what you're talking about."

and when ES!Dean finally can't take it, he takes LS!Dean to the ground in a fit of fury. LS!Dean wins easily, but he pulls so many punches that LS!Sam asks him about it after.

he's right, and he's young, and he loves you. i want to kick my own ass about it more than once a day. i still can't process it, and he's still waiting for his voice to drop all the way. let him have it. maybe he says any of this, but he most likely doesn't.

ES!Dean begs and begs and begs LS!Sam to tell him something--anything--because this is not a sam he's used to facing. this is not a sam he can avenge. LS!Sam ruffles his hair like a child and looks at dean like he's adorable for wanting to chew through the intestines of the person that did this.

and ES!Dean is not used to not being able to fight sam's demons for him. young dean would let sam crawl into his bed when he was scared, he would offer to destroy sam's bullies, he was willing to rip every hunter limb-from-limb when they questioned sam.

but this is not a problem he can fix, and it crushes him.

sam won't tell him because he knows that it will shatter him. how can you even tell this dean, with dark freckles and shining eyes and hands shaking with adrenaline when he pulls you in for a kiss, that you spent over a hundred years being ripped apart in every single way one soul can? you can't.

it almost killed LS!Dean when it happened the first time. LS!Sam knows that even though ES!Dean begs and pleads and threatens to rip LS!Dean's dick off, that he's still so young. he thinks that azazel (still "yellow eyes" to these untried versions of themselves) is the worst thing they will ever face.

so sam demurs, and he kisses dean's forehead, and he distracts him with pieces of the future ("our best friend tried to be god, once"), but he swears that dean will never know.

and EEP! anon!!! i am obsessed with YOU!!!! these asks make my week, lol! i'm so glad you all still like these! holding your hand RIGHT NOW.

-lizzy :)

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #anon <3

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kydrogendragon · 8 months

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For Valentine's Day I think Daniel needs some love too. With Hob, of course, 29.

Daniel does need some love! Thank you for the request, nonny!!

Pairing: Dreamling 2.0 Words: 1039 Warnings: None Ao3 Link Here

It’s been a year since Hob dreamed of his friend’s funeral. It’s been a year since he woke up, having had way too much cheap ale in a run down building at a ren faire only to have Death show up and confirm that it was all true. It hurt. At first. How could it not after all? His dearest friend, the man he’d loved... he was gone.

But, apparently, not truly gone. That, too, took some getting used to. When the doors to the New Inn swung open to an unfamiliar face, but a very familiar presence, Hob didn’t know what to make of it. His friend — Daniel, as he know goes by — greeted him with a hesitancy he’d not seen on his friend before. He was younger, both in looks and in the way he carried himself. It was as if death stripped him down back to his youth, but with it, took all the confidence he used to carry.

It was a strange sight, to see the least.

But Hob told him to stay, to have a drink and to catch up. He told his friend that he’d missed him and his friend has smiled. So Hob talked. And his friend talked as well. More than he’d talked before. He learned of his function, of what he is — something Hob heard very little of in their meetings in the twenty-first century. In some ways, he knew this version of his stranger even more than he had his old one.

The fondness for him, Hob thinks, is also something unchanged.

Daniel sits on the couch beside him currently. They’ve retired up to his flat for the evening after enjoying some... well, we’ll say interesting poetry to be nice, down at the monthly poetry slam they hosted. Most were uni students. Hob even recognized a few faces, but it was nice. And guaranteed some business. Daniel had enjoyed it, given how intensely he’d been listening to each reading. Hob should have figured that, though. No matter what face he wore, he was always a sucker for the arts.

“So I said, ‘If Sarah thinks she’s so much better at reading in Middle English, then she can come and say it to my face!’” Hob recalls, pointing his glass out for emphasis. Daniel smiles, reclined along the length of the couch, their legs just barely touching. Hob tries to not think about that too hard, though. “Of course, that led to talk between the departments and next thing you know, we’re swapping out our lunch break for a Middle English face off. And you know what the worst thing was?”

Daniel hums in curiosity.

“They had the audacity to say that she won! Her! I think it was a setup. There were far more English professors among the votes than History professors. I think it was rigged.” Daniel swirls his own glass of wine — another difference, he’s seen. Daniel will drink. And eat, occasionally. He’s a propensity for chocolate covered biscuits, which Hob ensures to always have stocked.

“Are you so opposed to being bested?”

Hob scoffs. “Yeah, when it comes to matters of my native tongue, I am. You’ve no idea how close I was to screaming out how I should have won cause I bloody lived through it. Didn’t though, but God’s Wounds, was I ever tempted.”

Daniel chuckles. “You are a fool, Hob Gadling.” There’s affection in his voice that stirs something within his chest. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the way he looks at him from over his wine glass with those breath-taking star eyes of his. They’re green, usually. When there’s other around. But here? Just the two of them? They become like the night sky, but the night sky of old. Where the closer you look, the more stars you can see. No light pollution, just the heavens above.

“Hob?” Daniel’s a lot close than he used to be. Oh... That’s because he moved. He was no longer leaning back against the arm of the couch but was now hunched over his knees, peering up at his friend.

“I’m your fool,” he whispers, his vision consumed in the inky darkness of his friend’s eyes. Hob can feel his heartbeat quicken as his eyes flick down to Daniel’s lips. They part, ever so slightly and there has been nothing more that Hob has ever wanted to do than to lean forward and press his mouth against them.

“Hob…” Daniel’s voice was strangled.

“I meant it, by the way. Still do.” He looks up, away from the rosy lips and back to his friend’s eyes. “I know we never really... talked about it before. You’re not much of a talker. Even less back before, but.” Hob sighs and leans back so he feels less like he’s cramming into his friend’s space. He watches and Daniel sets his glass down on the coffee table beside them. Hob mimics the movement with his own drink.

“Listen, I don’t expect you to reciprocate or anything like that. Never did, I just... I wanted you to know. That you were loved, even if it was just by me. So, just in case it wasn’t clear before, I— that love didn’t end with him, you know. It belongs to you too.”

Daniel is silent and still. Almost eerily so to the point where Hob has to look away because the longer the silence goes, the more worries he grows. It shouldn’t be anything new, just reiterated. Reassured. But when Hob glances back up and there are tears in his friend’s eyes, he’s beginning to wonder if somehow that memory didn’t transfer.

Finally, his friend moves. Slowly, he reaches out, a lithe hand brushes against his chin, raising his face. "I was the fool, before. For not accepting your affections as the gifts they were. I was afraid. But now..."

Hob’s eyes widen as Daniel leans in closer and closer. His eyes fall close as a pair of plush, warm lips brush against his own. He all but sobs as he wraps his arms around his friend, pulling him as close as possible. When they break, Hob pants, his face red. Daniel, looking perfect as ever, says, "Now, I am not."

#dreamling #dream of the endless #the sandman #hob gadling #daniel hall #ky writes #valentine's day prompts

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aro-laurance-zvahl · 2 years

Text

I am SO happy about Zane’s win in the @falseprophetpoll tonight. I genuinely thought it was the end for him, I thought Volo was the end for him, but it wasn’t. He made it through based on the MCD fandom’s sheer determination and wonderful propaganda. He’s going to the finals! This is some insane underdog story.

I wanted to throw together a little something to celebrate this unbelievable win. So have a few hundred words of Belos falling victim to Zane.

TW for things you would expect during a fight to the death. Like light gore and. Death. But it’s minor death because it has no bearing on their actual reality

—

“I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I frankly didn’t think I would have a hard time against anyone here,” Zane pulled off the mask that had been soaked through with his blood, cornering the quivering pile of slime and bone, “Like that one boy, Volo. He barely ever lifted a finger in his world, hoping a child would just do the work for him, not even forcing them. Pathetic, but you? Well you and me aren’t that different,”

Belos’ dripping face still managed to form itself into some sort of sneer, empty sockets lit with blue glaring into the high priest that stood in front of him, “I am nothing like you! You witch!”

“I am not a witch, all my magic and gifts are from a god! Just like yours,” Zane’s voice straddled the line between friendly and mocking, although the circumstances made it clear which it was, “See? So much in common. From our thirst for power, being masters of manipulation and betrayal, and oh our brothers even share horrible taste in women! It will be the death of mine’s as well. If all that makes me a witch well...what does that make you, Emperor?”

Belos snarled, attempted to spring himself against Zane to try and gain some semblance of control over the situation again. This move however was not new at this point in the battle, Zane easily being able to side step as Belos instead smeared himself across the floor. Zane couldn’t help but think he was just a worse version of a shadow knight, an immortal born from a betrayal but he just kept rotting instead of becoming better.

“I have the support! I am known! You are a rotted insignificant speck compared to me!” Green goop flew off Belos’ misaligned jaw as he tried to claw apart Zane’s confidence after the failed attack, but he seemed more bothered by another stain added to his attire.

“And you think everyone that came before you were not known? You think no one cheered for Volo? Think no one sent Wizzy gifts to try and help slay me?” Zane laughed as he took slow steps towards the beast, taking care to step on one of the protruding bones as he towered above the once massive creature, “Overconfidence in those who support us is such an easy way to fall my Emperor. It doomed my brother, it doomed your brother, it will doom the gods of my world, it will doom my father, but tonight? Tonight it doomed you.”

Zane stood at the center of Belos’ and then lifted his boot, and slammed it through his skull. The old brittle bones cracked and crumbled easily from the pressure, the rest of the bones falling into the now deaminated pile of sludge. Zane knew his death wouldn’t be so simple in Belos’ home realm, the magic boiling through him was too powerful for that despite how messy it was, but in this realm of white rooms where cheers and gifts mattered despite no clear source, it was enough.

He turned towards the sound of a small familiar whoosh, the appearance of an open door signaling his victory. He wouldn’t admit it, but this was his hardest battle yet. Perhaps it was because of his opponent’s size, or his access to some kind of magic, or even because of the not quite clear similarities between them.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The cheers for him were louder, his gifts more plentiful, and his own maniacal power was strong as it surged through him. All that was left for tonight was to clean his opponent off his skin and don a fresh high priest’s uniform before meeting his next, his final, opponent.

May Irene be with him.

#Zane Ro’Meave Sweep #zane ro'meave #mcd zane #minecraft diaries #mcd #fuck belos #emperor belos #toh belos #the owl house #toh #owl house #god I haven’t written for Zane since I was like 12 this probably is ooc #me? writing? wow

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vander-affectionate · 2 years

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Oh god you scared me.

How was your week? I'm guessing it's stressful, i hope you get better soon. I'm always here if you need to talk to someone about anything. Don't go hard on yourself! If you feel like you can't write or things like that you can obviously take a break. If you don't, maybe you can write something about taking care of a stressed Vander? Idk if that would help tho😞

this ask (T-T) thank you so much for sending this sal, i appreciate it. it's been a teeny, inchie little bit stressful, but getting an ask like this in the middle of it is as a good as a glass of water. don't worry, i'll be staying hydrated and i hope you will too, thank you so much for the request because you hit the nail right on the head so without further ado...

vander gets overwhelmed and has lowkey himbo vibes because he thinks a bonk on the head might solve his overthinking, but reader is stressed too. i had complete sensory overload while writing this so i have not edited this yet. reblog, reblog, reblog, and again, thank you so much for requesting this.

Vander huffs, leaning on the bar with a tankard in hand. The bar is closing up for the night, but he's not there to do it - no, actually, you sent him in the back for the remainder of the night after things got out of hand in the Drop's busiest hour.

The tankard slams hard on the coffee table and draws his hands up his face, into his hair, and then back down so the sharp cuts of his scruff stab his fingers when he breathes too hard. He wonders how sweet words and kisses over his forehead from a refreshing morning with you had turned to a sour, bristled night ending with none other than Vander himself initiating a bar fight that you had to break up. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut because it's embarrassing just to think about. It's not the fact that you had to bash him across the head with a tankard to get his attention.

"Hey."

There you are, opening the door with an elbow while simultaneously attempting to wipe your hands with a counter top rag, not the ones he tells you to use. He can't even scold you when there's some weak version of a flame in his chest fueling his embarrassment. He opts for staring at the fraying couch arm instead of words.

"Bar's empty, Benzo came 'round asking if you wanted to have drinks" you sit yourself on the opposite end of the couch on the arm, leaning on the thick cushions. "Told him you were mine for tonight, that okay?"

He huffs a sound, something dryly amused because where else would he rather be than swallowed up by the comfort of his own. He wants to rot in the embarrassment he's caused himself and he cannot be more thankful for you telling Benzo he was in for the night.

Vander's half paying attention. He doesn't see the way you frown at him or the way you ease off the couch and move around it to come near until you're sitting on the coffee table with a hand on his knee. He jumps and you withdraw your touch. He's surprised by your wide eyes directed at him, rather than the unamused glare he was expecting.

That's all you do for a second, both of you stare at each other until your hand stills in the air, halfway between you two, "is it okay for me to touch you?"

Vander chews the inside of his cheek, glaring at the couch and it pains him to shake his head. He's not sure how much he can take of you tonight, you're wonderful - beyond that actually, but everything is too much and you're- he's... words are a little hard for him.

But you can see it in the way he's stiff against the couch.

"That's okay," you stand up from the coffee table and move around it.

His eyes widen and you're stopped in your tracks by his hand curled around your wrist. His brows are knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line, his words are clipped, "Don't leave." muttering a please that breaks in his throat.

Your fingers press and brush the inside of his wrist before you lean down to kiss his arm, keeping his gaze all the while, "I'm right here, Vander. I'm sitting over there, is that okay?"

His eyes flickers to the chair you've gestured to and you see his nose wrinkle. His features soften when he sees the upturn of your lips and he releases your hand, relaxing back into the couch cushions and watching you curl into a ball in the arm chair on his right that's too big for you. You're a vision of comfort and he leans his head back into the cushions while you both stare.

"Sorry about hitting you over the head," you prod the area on your head in the spot you clocked him earlier.

He shrugs, "Nothin' I didn't deserve."

Vander watches you curl your legs underneath yourself as you lean on the arm, closer to him. He turns his gaze because he doesn't want you seeing these feelings rearing their ugly heads. He needed that hit, he's convinced himself it helped calm him down and squints as he considers a second might be the hearty cool down he's missing.

"They really got to you tonight," your voice is still soft and he wants it to grate a nerve in him. He wants you to give him a reason to be angry at himself for his outburst tonight, but when he glances over at you he can't be.

Your cheek is squished against the frayed armchair upholstery and your eyes seem more like doe eyes than they ever have when you're staring up at him like he's hung the moon. He glances away and sees your mouth curl up and he wonders if you're deliriously believing he's hung the stars. Your eyes crinkle when your lips push into your cheeks and he swallows, maybe you're playing tricks on his heart.

"Why're y'stressed?" your nonchalance grates something in him and he throws his arms into the air and kicks the coffee table with the toe of his boot.

"Cause!" he snips, "It's pilin' up, shits been falling apart, the tankards need replacing, and I threw a couple of folks half way up the piltover bridge-" he rounds on you with fire in his eyes and he's standing to his full height across the room, kicking the fallen tankard and turning his back to you so he can run his hands through his hair. He swears up and down at everything including the fallen tankard to the accident he had when he cut his jaw shaving this morning.

"I'm exhausted and, I..."

He leans his head against the wall, away from you, and you sigh. He bites his lip and quietly scolds himself because he's being selfish, you're tired too and here he is complaining about all of this. He turns around, an apology on his tongue, but he doesn't get to face you because there's a cheek on his back.

He tenses and lifts a leg to see your socked feet behind his boots. You hadn't made a sound nor do you when you meet his eyes when he raises his arm and awkwardly bends his head to catch your gaze.

"Thank you for telling me." you offer yet another smile and it's only now that he can spot the droop to your eyes.

His lips part and that heated frustration in his chest, releases and unfurls seeing your kind smiles, "I've been stressed too. Thought I was the only one."

Vander turns around and cups your face in his hands, he rubs his fingers beneath your eyes that are only slightly sunken in because he forgets that keeping the bar open for an hour later doesn't only take its toll on him. You lean into the warm palms that cup your face and sigh, nuzzling your nose into their center and he draws you close, if only to let you curl against his chest and he watches you fully melt into him. Your shoulders sink and your fists curl into the fabric of his shirt. You shiver when his palm draws down the length of your back and he finds himself wrapping himself in you when he dips his head to bury his face in your neck. He pulls you off of your feet if only to keep you pressed to him and inhale your scent.

"I'm stressed too," he reiterates. Fingers press into your back, massaging and rolling the muscles there until you're moulding against him and nothing but an extension of himself when he moves the two of you to lie down on the couch, you ontop of him.

"You're not alone, Vander." you tilt your head up and stroke across his jaw, if only to get his attention and he melts into you, sighing and rolling you on your side so you're pressed to the cushions and his chest.

He presses his lips to your temple and rests there, sighing and curling his arms around your waist while you kiss whatever you can reach, his shoulder, his collar, and his neck. He nuzzles further into you and squeezes you in his ars.

"I know."

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midnightcreator12 · 4 months

Text

And We'll Keep Marching On Chapter 19 - Can't Wake Up

AO3 Link

They’d dragged everyone into Leo’s room, even Raven. Scrap had had a fit about that…at least Casey thinks he did. It was kinda hard to tell if all the screeching and beeping was panic or anger.

But even the exercise of moving everyone hadn’t eased any of Casey’s panic. If anything, moving everyone made it worse.

Because not one of them had moved during the ordeal. No one twitched, groaned, or shot awake the second they were touched. And Casey knew about that last one very well, he’d made the mistake of grabbing Raph when he was sleeping quite a few times.

“What's wrong with them?” Casey said again as he paced in the hallway, peeking in each time he passed the open bedroom door.

“I-I don’t know!” April was crouched next to Donnie, one had pressed to his forehead. “They all..seem…fine but…I don’t know! They just won’t wake up!”

“That definitely isn’t fine!” Casey stopped, smacking both hands against the doorframe in a very ineffective attempt to get rid of the queasy flipping of his guts. “Hey! Murder-bot! Do your scanny thing on them!”

Scrap beeped and warbled, skittering around Raven and flashing several hologram versions of the guys and his owner, all of which were blue.

“So scan them again!” Casey slammed his hands into the door frame. “There’s clearly something wrong!”

Scrap ‘growled’, crouching low and starting to stalk towards Casey-

“Both of you quit it!” April snapped.

Casey flinched when her shout sent out a small pulse of energy. Scrap’s head snapped towards April and he made a long, questioning bweep.

“Just…hang on, I’m gonna try something,” April moved so that he was kneeling over Donnie, lifting his head onto her lap.

She hesitated for a moment before pressing her hands to his temples and closing her eyes, face scrunching up in concentration.

A part of Casey wanted to protest. He didn’t really know the ethics around having physic powers but he was pretty sure prying into people heads was against some unwritten rule.

But, when needs must. And right now, he didn’t have another idea. So he bit his tongue and watched with bated breath as April did…whatever she was trying to do.

Scrap bweeped again, feet clicking on the floor as he moved to perch on Donnie’s chest, ears swiveling up and down as he did another scan, focusing on the turtle's head.

“Thought you said that didn’t do nothin’,” Casey couldn’t help but jab.

Scrap's head snapped around and he lifted one foot…the one with the shock prong hidden inside.

Casey jerked his hands away from the doorframe, ready to start running if Scrap tried anything.

Both paused in their stand-off again when April made a sound. It was a soft groaning deep in her throat, her fingers tensing around Donnie’s head as her brows pinched together, “Come on, I can feel you….wake…up…

Casey held his breath, watching. Sweat broke out across April’s forehead, her eyes cracked open slightly and Casey swore he could see a pinkish glow-

And then both she and Donnie screamed, lurching away from each other. Scrap screeched as well, skittering back as the projection he’d been building started to flash.

Casey stood, frozen, muscles inching to run and help but not knowing who to run to first. His eyes flicked around the room as everyone else let out breathy groans…except Raven. Whatever April did, it didn’t seem to have affected her.

He swallowed hard and managed to ask, “What the hell just happened?”

April sat up, jaw tense as if she was in pain, “I-I dunno. It’s like…something is keeping him asleep. I was…right next to him, I thought it was working but…god there was so much-”

Decision finally made, Casey rushed to April’s side, putting his hands around her shoulders, “What’d you see?”

“It was…some kind of nightmare. I think it was…in our school but there were…monsters everywhere I think? and…some freaky beaver threw me out!”

Casey blinked, the word ‘beaver’ conjuring up a memory from only a few hours ago, “Are you sure it was a beaver?”

“Yes I’m sure!” April wrenched away, shuffling back to Donnie. “We have to wake them up! I don’t know how to explain it but we have to get them up!”

Scrap gave a shrill beep, bounding around to show his projection. The area around where Donnie heart was had turned a bright red.

April made a choking sound, palm moving over the spot on physical Donnie, “Scrap's right, he’s heart is going way too fast!”

“Okay…I may have an idea,” Casey stood, moving back out of the room, only pausing when April barked after him.

“Where are you going?”

“Look, the only thing different today was me and Raph going to that creepy cabin in the woods,” Casey explained quickly. “And the guy that lived there had a bunch of beaver motifs taped up all over the place!”

“You can’t honestly think-?”

“Well it’s not like we have any other ideas!” Casey turned then, face growing hot. “There was this book thing too! The dude absolutely flipped when he saw me messing with it!”

April opened her mouth as if to argue, but the Scrap beeped again, the projection flickering to show a hologram of Leo, also with a red warning over his heart. She looked to the image, shoulders tentsing. Then she released a huge breath through her nose then looked back to Casey, “Take Scrap with you.”

“Say what?!”

“It’s four in the morning Casey and snowing! Scrap has lights and half of the woods mapped out. I can’t come find you if you get lost out there!”

Casey wanted to argue. Because he did not like that little hunk of metal and he knew Scrap did not like him.

But…April had a point.

So he jerked his head with a curt, “Come on.” And skipped the stairs in favor of sliding down the banister.

He expected Scrap to take a second while he jerked on a coat he’d scavenged from the barn. But there was a whistle, the sound of metal grinding on wood, before something very solid smacked Casey in the back.

By the time he got his footing again Scrap hand perched himself on Casey’s shoulder, head and ears pointed forward at the door.

Casey shoved down the urge to shove the little guy off, choosing to focus on his main mission.

He had to find that cabin and grill the old man about what the hell he was doing that would make his friends unable to wake up.

He just hoped he could get there and back with some answers before it was too late.

—-----------------------

Donnie wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.

His mind was at war with itself, screaming at him to keep running and also roaring to go back. But no matter which was at the forefront his legs kept moving away from Leo.

His lungs ached yet air still flowed in and out through panting breaths, his throat hurt from screaming and yelling, his leg muscles burned from the constant running that he couldn’t seem to stop.

But he wanted to stop. That part of his mind was starting to get louder and more constant. He wanted to stop running, he just wanted to stop for a minute and figure out what to do.

But drigging in his heels didn’t work, grabbing onto anything bolted to the ground didn’t work…but he could kinda control which way he turned.

Donnie wheezed as he forced his trajectory to curve, physically and mentally bracing himself-

Before he crashed through the wall of an old warehouse.

He coughed and choked, shoving away brick and debris and painfully pulling himself into a sitting position. He didn’t dare stand fully, terrified that his body would betray him again and send him running off into…

Donnie looked around and choked again when he saw that he was not sitting in a warehouse. Or in an abandoned building. He was in the middle of April’s school. Surrounded by humans.

All of whom were staring right at him.

Donnie scrabbled back, shell smacking against a now intact wall. The teenagers shuffled closer, surrounding him on all sides as murmurs started to echo through the hallways.

“What the hell is that?”

“Where did it come from?”

“It’s some kind of freak of nature.”

“What is that thing?”

“It’s so freaky looking!”

Donnie started to shake as the voices and bodies pressed closer into his space, every instinct screaming run, run, run-

The humans features blurred together as they pressed in closer to him, darkening into leering shadows that whispered amongst each other. Mutant. Freak. Monster. Abomination.

Donnie opened his mouth to protest, to defend himself, to tell them all to go away, leave him alone, he had to find Leo-

None of those things came out. The only sound that bubbled up from Donnie’s throat was a high, pitiful chirp.

His hands slapped over his beak at the sound, face burning as another chirp of confusion slipped out.

Why couldn’t he talk?

He tried again but could only produce a string of chirps and churrs.

The voices got louder, shadows moved even closer, horrid words spiraling around and around Donnie, pressing down on him, making him feel tiny and helpless.

Freak. Animal. Abomination. Monster.

“Monstrosity.”

Donnie’s head snapped up, eyes widening when one of the humans surrounding him solidified. April stood over him, expression flat, like back when they first met her, when she’d only talk about missions related to her dad with them.

“Mutant reptile freak.”

His head snapped the other way, breath growing erratic as Casey’s skull-painted face sneered down at him, like he was some disgusting bug.

Or a freak.

Donnie curled further into himself, tucking his head down and covering it with his hands in a futile attempt to block everything out. April’s indifference, Casey’s disdain, all the eyes just staring down at him like he was an exotic specimen trapped in a jar.

Unnatural. Pathetic. Inhuman.

Monster. Monster. Monster.

“Donnie!”

Donnie wanted to scream, the need doubled when he felt something grab his arms. But still, all he could seem to manage was chirping in distress.

Was this how Leo felt? Oh god, this is exactly what Leo felt like, like he was trapped in his own head, voice ignoring every command he tried to give it and vomiting up various sounds to approximate his emotional state-

“Donnie, come on!”

His arms were jerked up, forcing him to look up at who was trying to manhandle him.

And there was April, looking back at him wide-eyed and panting, the cold indifference replaced with clear fear.

And Donnie couldn’t help but let out a distressed sound, high pitched, almost like a human wail. Becasue he couldn’t take this, not again. The back-and-forth of what April wanted twisted his heart into knots and he couldn’t take her indecision anymore-

“Donnie, you have to wake up!”

…what?

Donnie looked back up, forced himself to look, really look, at April.

She smiled when he did, tugging on his arms again, “Yes! Yes! Come on Donnie, you can do it. This is just some crazy dream, you just gonna wake up and everything will be okay!”

“Wha-,” Donnie coughed, letting himself be pulled up to his feet.

Which was a mistake because when he looked around another figure had become clearer from the mass. One that made Donnie flinch back, made him want to look away in shame.

Timothy stood further back in the crowd, people moving around him, none touching him or acknowledging him. His face was twisted into an enraged snarl, his skin was green, semi-translucent, organs visible. Tim’s form shivered, becoming less human-shaped, his jaw tensed more, eyes hateful as he moved towards Donnie-

Small hands forced him to look away, to look down at bright, bright, bright blue eyes, and April yelled, “None of this is real! You’re dreaming! Donnie, you have to wake-”

“Enough!”

Something huge slammed into Donnie, sending him flying down the hallway. He heard April scream, but it was cut off when he smacked against a wall. It buckled under him, made him scream in pain. He hit the floor in a shivering heap, breathing through the sudden sharp pain burning into his plastron.

It took him longer than he’d ever admit to realize that his plastron was not what had hit the wall.

Donnie forced his eyes open, blinked to try and make the bluriness go away.

The shadows were gone. April, Casey and Tim had disappeared. Only one being reminded in the hallway.

One that towered over Donnie, bigger than Dogpound, blocking out the lights, making it impossible to clearly see what it was.

Except it’s eyes.

Bright red eyes looked down at Donnie, crinkling in mirth as a low, sinister laugh echoed down the hall, “Well, looks like there’s been a change of plans.”

Donnie couldn’t breathe. It was like the voice had managed to reach into his chest and squeeze his lungs.

The creature laughed, loud and far too gleeful, and Donnie managed to get enough air to scream when the floor vanished from under him.

—-------------------------------

Raph forced his way to the surface again, bursting out of the sewer water and clawing his way onto solid ground.

He didn’t know how many times he tried to grab Leo only for something to snatch his brother away, but it was starting to make him angry.

He hauled himself upright, looking around wildly. Leo had, at least, been easy to find each time. There was always something, a trail of blood, a flash of blue mask tails, a distressed chirp that echoed through the tunnels.

Raph pelted after every single one, always finding Leo, bloody, broken, needing help.

But he always just missed him.

“Not this time,” Raph huffed as he charged down a tunnel, eyes flicking back and forth.

Whatever was going on, whatever sick game the Shredder or Kraang or…whatever was playing at, he was ending it. He was going to find Leo and they were getting out of here. He’d get Leo to Donnie, get him help, he’d be okay, Raph just had to get him-!

He skidded around a curve, eyes locking onto the cracked, bloodied shell facing him at the end of the tunnel. A growl rumbled in Raph’s throat, focus narrowing entirely on Leo.

Get Leo, get Leo, get Leo, get Leo-

Water was rising around him again, tinted red from Leo’s blood, gushing out of the walls and threatening to drag Leo away from him again.

Raph snarled, thundering down the tunnel, running faster than he ever had in his life.

The sewer water rose around Leo, eating up more and more of him, slowly taking him from Raph again-

Raph roared, leaping the last few feet between them, crashing hard into Leo and sending them both under.

The water battered at him, spun Raph around and around until he had no clue which way was up or down. But it didn’t matter because he had Leo.

He clung on, hugging Leo as close as he could, arms shaking with how tightly he was holding on. He was not going to let Leo be taken again, nothing was going to touch Leo again, they’d have to go through Raph first!

The water swirled again and Raph almost choked when he hit a wall. His claws dug into Leo’s shell and he gritted his teeth, refusing to let go for anything.

The surface he hit buckled under him and Raph was suddenly falling. He gasped as the water disappeared and curled himself around Leo in an attempt to shield him as they fell.

Down, down, down, faster and faster, too fast, too fast-!

Raph yelped when he hit the ground, instinct pushing him to roll in an attempt to lessen the shock of landing. He couldn’t do it properly while clinging to Leo and he ended up pretty much on top of him when they stopped.

Raph stayed like that, gasping and shaking, clinging to Leo as he tried to get his fuzzy thoughts to refocus. He had to get moving, get Leo help and fast. They had to get out of the city-

A voice reached his ears, far away and muffled, and Raph growled. He couldn’t make himself move but he could still make sounds. So he let out the low growl of his turtle side, one that rumbled in a clear threat, a promise for pain if whoever was talking dared get too close.

His growl grew louder when hands suddenly grabbed him, prying at his arms, trying to make him let Leo go.

Something whacked Raph on the shoulder, hard.

And the familiar sting had him rearing back, biting off his growl as his head snapped up-

Coming face-to-face with Master Splinter.

“Sen-,” Raph coughed as the name stuck in his throat.

Splinter's lip curled, eyes narrowing as he hissed back, “What have you done?”

“Wha- I-,” Raph coughed again, feeling like his words were clogging up his throat and stopping him from speaking.

Splinter's cane smacked loudly against the floor, “Your anger has always been your weakness Raphael but now it has become a danger to our clan! Look at what you’ve done to your brother!”

Raph was shaking again as his gaze traveled to behind his sensei.

Leo lay on the dojo floor, blue eyes wide and staring at Raph. Deep claw marks marred Leo’s scales and, when Raph looked down at his own hands, he saw his claws had grown into cruel, dark talons that were coated in red.

Coated in Leo's blood.

Raph couldn’t breath, there wasn’t enough air in the room. He hadn’t…there was no way…he’d been saving Leo, he hadn’t-

“I shouldn’t have let you get away with this for so long,” Splinter was still talking, voice harsh with a bitter edge of disappointment, “You are unpredictable, rash, you constantly hurt your brothers with your anger! Even when you’re meant to be looking after them you continue to hurt them!”

“No-,” He’d been trying! He was trying so hard to keep them all safe! He didn’t always mean to get so angry, but sometimes everything was too much-

But none of those words made it into the air and Raph found himself shrinking away as Splinter strode closer to him.

“This is why you must work harder than them, this is why I must be stricter with you,” Splitter loomed over him and Raph felt so small under his Master's eyes. Small and pathetic and weak.

Splinter leaned down, growling between bared teeth, “And why you will never be good enough. You are just like Saki.”

Raph reeled away, tears building in his eyes.

The cane struck the floor loudly, “Do not walk away from me Rapha-!”

A loud crack cut Splinter off and Raph was suddenly falling right through the dojo floor with a scream.

—-------------------------------

Mikey seriously wanted to wake up now.

Because the slideshow of all the worst moments in his life for the past year was mentally exhausting and the giant beaver was getting annoying.

Mikey sighed as the scene around him shifted to the Lair, again, and he found himself surrounded by his brothers, their eyes black and thick mucus dripping from their mouths.

Mikey rolled his head to give the beaver a flat look, “Remind me not to eat ghost pepper cheese before bed again. This dream sucks.”

“It’s supposed to suck!” The beaver, ‘Dave’ he’d mentioned his name was, stopped his foot and slapped his tail on the ground. “I know this memory is a bad one! You were terrified! You should be running in fear!”

“Except this already happened,” Mikey reached into his belt, smirking when he felt the handle of the injector appear in his hand. He stuck the closest brother to himself, who happened to be Donnie, and gestured to him as the signs of zombie wasp venom faded away. “See? I used my smarts to finish Donnie’s antidote thingy. They’re fine now, this is just a dream.”

“No!” Dave lumbered over, grabbing Dream Donnie by the shoulders and shaking him until he went back to the black eyed mind controlled state. “Run, scream, be afraid! Your brothers are trying to eat you!”

“No they weren’t,” Mikey re-cured Donnie.

Dave's tail smacked the ground, hard enough to make the scene around them shake, “Stop that!”

“You first,” Mikey countered with a yawn. “Or at least poof back into whatever weird little corner of by brain that you popped out of.”

“I’m not one of your dreams!” Dave snarled. “I’m controlling them! I’m supposed to be scaring you so I can eat and get strong enough to get into the girl's dreams!”

Mikey blinked, “....say what now?”

“But I can’t do that if you keep being an idiot!” Dave stalked around Mikey, lashing tail dissipating the dream versions of Mikey’s bros as it smacked into them. “And the other won’t help me out because they're jerks! And then they’ll all escape and leave me stuck here starving for another forty years!”

Mikey slowly stood up, “Waaaait a minute….you’re trying to eat me!?”

“Your nightmares!” Dave growled. “I need to eat! I haven’t had a decent meal in years and Dark told me to go after you! The other are probably gorging themselves right now while you’re being too stupid to be scared of anything-!”

Mikey was moving before he could think about it, nunchucks blinking into existence as he leaped through the air. “What are you doing to my brothers?!”

Dave yelped when a chuck smacked him on the head as Mikey flipped over him, “Ow! Wha-?…don’t do that! Wait…you can’t do that!”

“You’re in my dream jerk!” Mikey snarled back. “I do what I want! Now what are you doing to my brothers?”

Dave snarled back, back arching and whisker spines rattling.

Mikey fell into a battle stance, ready to take this creep down-

Something made a loud crack and Mikey yelped as the floor caved under his feet, sending him hurtling down.

—---------------------------------------------

Leo had managed to claw his way out of the lake. He was bloody, his shoulder was on fire, his leg throbbing in time with his heartbeat, he’d gotten hit in the head at one point and blood had forced one of his eyes shut.

He started to run as best he could, limping away from the water. He could feel the Shredder behind him, could hear each rasping breath behind his mask.

And Leo should turn around, should stand his ground and fight. But when he dared look behind him, saw the silhouette of the Shredder slowly stalking out of the water like a demon rising from hell, every cell in him screamed to run.

So he dived back into the woods, zig-zagging between the fauna, ignoring the sting of thorns cutting into his scales as he focus his attention on escaping.

Something growled in the shadows and Leo screamed as bony claws lashed out from the trees and racked up his good arm. He stumbled, feet catching on roots and causing him to tumble down an incline. He yelped as he hit the ground, rock scraping painfully along his open wounds and making them burn worse.

Leo lay on the forest floor, panting hard, vision wavering and spotty. A pitiful chrip slipped out and Leo felt like crying.

He couldn't do this again, he couldn’t. It had already broken him the first time, he couldn’t-

“Perhaps I made a mistake.”

Leo flinched at the sound of his sensei’s voice. He moved painfully slow, levering one arm under himself and trying to regain his feet.

He couldn’t see Master Splinter when he looked around but he heard him clear as day, muttering in a low voice from the woods, “Perhaps I choose wrong, if you can be defeated so easily by our enemies.”

Leo coughed, blood spraying down his chin, “I tried, p-please, I tried so hard-”

“Not enough. You were meant to be the leader, you should be able to endure and win any battle.”

Leo hiccuped on the next sob, finally managing to regain his feet and stumble along, “Sensei, please, help-”

“You are no longer fit to lead your brothers. How can you protect them if you cannot protect yourself?”

“Please-!” Leo tripped again, a wail ripping out of his chest. “Dad, please-!”

Something cracked.

Leo screamed as the forest floor suddenly swallowed him up. Wind rushed past him as he fell and he screwed his eyes shut, bracing for when he inevitably hit the ground.

When he landed it was too sudden for him to catch himself. The impact with the ground rattled his teeth, forced a wheeze from his lungs. The ground he landed on was rough but cool, like the roads in New York. Leo curled on his side, heaving in air like a dying man and praying for whatever twisted nightmare he was in to be over.

“Leo!”

Leo grunted as he was suddenly heaved off the ground, powerful arms wrapping around him and squeezing. His eyes snapped open to find his beak pressed into an olive green shoulder and purple mask tails.

“Donnie,” he whimpered, pressing closer.

“Leo!” Mikey's shout was accompanied by his weight slamming into Leo’s back, making him wheeze again.

He looked around, spotting Raph hovering right behind Donnie. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears, hands hovering like he wanted to join the hug but was holding himself back.

An involuntary whine slipped out of Leo, one hand reaching for Raph. And Raph didn’t hesitate to reach back, seizing Leo's hand hand in both of his and squeezing.

Leo relaxed a bit, letting his brother's presence chase away the darkness trying to cloud is mind.

“Awww, isn't that sweet,” a rasping voice cooed from above their heads.

Leo’s snapped his head around, eyes widening when he saw massive, red furred beaver towering over them, yellow teeth sneering.

He looked around, finally taking in where he and his brothers had landed….it kinda looked like a New York street but it kept shifting, images of the woods or the Lair or the sewers flickering in and out, along with shiny white metal and red grass.

Donnie and Mikey's arms tightened around Leo at the sound of stone grinding on stone. Buildings behind the red beavers cracked open and more giant beavers climbed out and dropped to the street. One orange, another purple and the last a bright neon blue.

The orange one snarled, stalking over to the red one and snapping his teeth, “What gives Dark? I was just getting to the good part!”

Dark sneered back, tail slapping the ground, “One of their little friends messed up the dreamscape so I changed the plan.”

“You mean they messed up your dreamscape!” Purple barked back, claws digging into the concrete. “Mine was working perfectly until you took my snack!”

Dark growled, dropping to all fours and stalking toward the turtles, “Well the plan changed now. Besides, this way is quicker.”

The threat moving towards them finally made Leo unfreeze. He ripped himself from his brother's grip, standing before them and baring his teeth in a deep, animalistic growl.

Dark paused, tilting his head.

And all four beavers burst into laughter, the purple one managing to huff out between giggles, “Awwww, the lil turtle thinks he’s scary.”

“Back off!” Raph barked, moving to stand at Leo’s side.

Donnie and Mikey bracketed his other side, Donnie going as far as to press his shoulder to Leo’s. Mikey moved to stand slightly in the front, pointing up at the beavers and shouting, “You creeps can’t eat our nightmare when we’re all together!”

Leo blinked.

And Donnie verbalized what flashed in Leo’s mind, “Wait….they what?”

“He,” Mikey pointed towards the bright blue beaver. “Said their trying to eat our bad dreams to get stronger!”

“Wait,” Raph drew back, looking around. “This…this is a dream?”

And Leo felt like kicking himself. Of course this was a dream! Why hadn’t he put that together sooner?

Dark chuckled, crouching low, “One none of you are going to wake up from.”

“Move!” Donnie dived at the same time as Dark, tackling Leo out of his path.

Raph and Mikey shouted, scattering in separate directions as the other beavers started to attack.

Leo squirmed, pulling away from Donnie and frantically looking around, “We gotta wake up!”

“Duh!” Donnie jumped back from the orange beaver’s snapping teeth while Leo lunged further out of range. “But how do you wake yourself up from a dream?”

“I got it!” Mikey ran to Raph, hand reeling back and loudly slapping the back of his head.

Raph squealed in surprise and pain, probably would have tried to smack Mikey back if the purple beaver wasn’t swiping huge claws at him.

But Raph didn't vanish, so Leo assumed it hadn't worked and Raph was still asleep in the real world.

The blue beaver giggles, shimmering up a light pole that flickered between dull gray and bright green, “You can’t just ‘wake up’. Not until we let you!”

“Shut up Dave!” the three other beavers shouted in unison.

Leo jumped on the distraction, grabbing a sewer cover and rushing towards the closest beaver.

The orange beast yelped when the metal edge slammed into his face, jaw making a loud crunching sound as the force of the blow snapped his neck to the side.

Leo felt a burst of vindication at his success, a cocky grin pulling at his beak.

It dropped when the beaver raised its head, snapping his jaw back into place with ease and grinning down at Leo.

He heard his brother's scream as the beaver bore down on him, huge paws pinning Leo to the ground and hot breath wafting into his face.

Leo kicked and struggled, claws scrabbling against the beavers webbed foot. But his struggles did nothing as the beaver reared back, mouth opening wider and wider, like he was preparing to actually take a bite out of Leo-

A new sound cracked through the air, one that reminded Leo of cheaply made cartoons and cheesy dialogue. A bright streak of red exploded in the orange beaver's face, sending it back with a howl of pain.

Leo brothers surrounded him again, their hands grabbing, pulling him away from the beavers. Leo looked around for where the blaster gunshot had come from-

Raven stood in the middle of the street, only…it wasn’t quite her.

She was taller, her hair shorter and the black curls broken up with streaks of gray. She was also wearing armor, gleaming white with feather motifs painted in dusty purples and a thick fabric that went halfway around her waist. She held a blaster gun, a long, thin one with a scoop attached to the top, not the boxy things that the Kraang favored, and she had it pointed toward the beavers.

Her face, now older, lines around her eyes and mouth deeper, was pitched into a look of rage as she snarled out, “Get the hell away from them.”

Dark sneered at her, mouth stretching into a smile to wide to look natural, “Well now, looks like our job just got much, much easier.”

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #lone hunter and turtle #star wars #tmnt au #fanfic #oc

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