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outlustings · 3 years

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Ooh more requests? I have an idea for Frank: we used to be a nurse at Murkoff(a nice one of course) and when everything goes to shit we end up running into Frank who instead of cannibalizing us, eats us in a different way *wink wink* If you do actually write this one feel free to make it as dirty as you want

(oh my GOD so UH my hand. slipped. slippery slippery slippery. so afab!reader gets eaten out on the floor. dubcon because reader hits their head before getting they Poussey Ate but also reader is kind of insane already so ehhh EHHHH idk, mentions of violence, blood, gore because frank. this is awful and pretty dark. but dirty.

also now i really want frank to eat me out thanks anon for planting this into my mind. you guys are some torturers with these prompts shaking my smh.)

"Stay back!" you stumbled backwards against the wall, eyes fixed on the sharp, curved teeth of the spinning saw, the grinding sound digging into your brain.

"I won't hurt you," the skinny man cooed from the shadows, taking long steps towards you, bare feet slapping against the blood-slick floor. You shook your head feverishly.

"Stay back, don't fucking touch me! I swear!"

Your lightweight sneaker slipped on the bloody floorboards, and you lost your balance, fell back with a squeal, your head cracking painfully against the concrete wall.

For a second or two, you could only see white. Felt molten iron tear at your brain. It hurt. You raised your hands to the back of your head by instinct and curled up on the floor, whining and cursing as your head was about to split in two. You couldn't see. Something warm in your hair. Red on your fingers. No, no, no, not like this.

"Please," you cried out into the darkness, your eyes trying to adjust to the view of the swimming, rippling floorboards, "Please, please, I never hurt you, any of you! What the fuck did I do to deserve this? God!" you felt your throat burn as you screeched. You scooted yourself on the floor, trying to put pressure on the back of your head, eyes unseeing. Have to get away. Away from the saw.

You could only hear the blood in your ears. Buzzing and ringing. The saw. Maybe. You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared yourself mentally, the rolodex in your brain shuffling on its own through your memories, deciding what should be your last thought - for some reason, you ended up with an image of a thin, bearded man grinning at you, his green eyes glinting at you as he handed you a picture he'd drawn in group therapy. It was a crudely drawn dick. Your favorite patient. You shared many laughs with him.

You wanted to laugh. Laugh at the situation. Maybe one last laugh before death.

"I won't hurt you, sweets," you felt his breath against your ear. Then you heard a loud clatter next to you. He'd dropped his weapon, you hoped. You felt his fingers on your cheek.

You blinked the blood from your eyes.

"Frank?" you swallowed, "Fucking Christ, just take me home, Frank. Please. God. I can't die here. I want to -..."

Your consciousness faded and you felt thin, skeletally thin arms snake around your shoulders.

He'd taken you somewhere. Only a couple of rooms over. Privacy. You saw the blinking red button on the nightstand. You felt the cool, damp air against your bare skin as he tugged at your uniform trousers.

Your brain felt numb. Comfortably numb as his fingers rubbed you through your pants, his lips on the skin around your navel as you tried to lift your head up off the ground to take a closer look at him.

Everything was dark. This wasn't supposed to happen, you thought as he ripped off your pants, grabbing the flesh of your hips, his heavy breaths echoing in the room as you lay on the floor.

It smelled. The room smelled. Raw meat. Like a butcher's market in the summertime. You scrunched your nose.

You squirmed against his grip, trying to lift your hips off the ground. He gripped your wiggling hips, his fingers digging into your skin. He's going to eat you, you thought as something in the back of your head brought you closer to reality, your eyes adjusting to the dark as you looked, or rather tried to look, at him over your bare, trembling chest. His face was all twisty. You blinked your dizziness away.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured.

"Don't eat me," you said dumbly.

"I won't," he shook his head, "Just fucking stay still."

Cool air against your cunt. You winced.

"Wait," you gasped, your vision finally stilling on Frank's face between your legs, "Wait, Frank!"

He pressed his lips against your pubic mound, right above your clit.

"You want this?"

You shook your head but it hurt.

"Right now? No," you said. You briefly registered his strong hands on your buttocks, and with one swift toss, he swung your legs on his shoulders, scooching closer to you on the floor.

You felt his crossed legs against your upper back, "We have to get out, later," you said hoarsely.

"I need you," he pressed a soft kiss to your clitoris, inhaling your scent. You moaned weakly, "Need this pussy."

You slapped your hand to your forehead. Men.

"Later," you choked out, trying to twist your legs off of him, "This is really -..." you shuddered as he nosed against you, "...- inappropriate," you sighed, gripping the floorboards.

He wouldn't let go, only hummed against your lower lips. You felt a jolt of heat run through you.

"Always had a thing for you," he sighed against your labia, moving his head to press sloppy kisses against your thigh, "I could always smell you. You always wanted me. Little nursie."

You gulped.

"Smell - me?"

"Your cunt," he nodded, flitting his tongue out experimentally and letting out a low hum as the touch upon your clit made you exhale hard, "Dripping. Could smell when you'd be ripe for breeding - what's the word...?" he clicked his tongue, "Ovulating - yeah. Wanted to fuck you. So, so bad. And now I know you taste even better than you smell."

So casual, you thought. Yet every word that came out of his mouth sounded ravenous. Like he wanted to devour you. He desired you.

You blinked at him, feeling your cheeks burn. You opened your mouth.

"Don't deny me now," he grunted, massaging your butt as you felt another jolt of electric heat run through you, felt yourself grow slick under his hot breath, his honeyed, hungry words, "Let me eat you."

"Now?" you breathed out, reaching up to his head but he snatched your wrist.

"Now."

His breath against your cunt. You licked your lips and whined, low, as you saw the desire in his eyes.

Your head was pounding. So was your heart. And your heartbeat was travelling dangerously low for the situation to be all too comfortable, professionally speaking.

"I'm your nurse," you whispered, in a desperate effort to thwart the ache. To reason with him.

"Exactly," he grinned.

He licked a long, hungry stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit. You moaned, throwing your head back into the wooden floor, the coppery scent of blood and the pungent smell of viscera snaking into your nostrils as you bit your lip, trying to stifle any more noises.

"That's it, my flower," he cooed from between your thighs, and you could hear him smack his lips obscenely, "You were always so good to me... Let me be good to you..."

He hummed and pressed his mouth sloppily against your cunt, his open mouth engulfing your lips as you felt his tongue lave up and down your labia. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your trembling hips still as you felt little jolts and sparks of pleasure run through you in short bursts. It felt too good. He felt too good. You had to concentrate on something - anything - to keep your mind off of how well he took your slick flesh into his mouth and how well he flicked his tongue against your tender arousal - you gasped as you felt his nose brush against your clit as he dove in, devouring your sopping lips with languid, deliberate licks. You shuddered, feeling how he pressed sloppy kisses against you, murmuring sweetly while kneading the inside of your thighs with his thumbs.

"So tasty," he grunted and a low, spine-chilling giggle slipped from his lips, "Why have you kept this from me, my sweet?"

He pressed his tongue against your entrance and you squeaked, feeling your walls clench around the tip of his tongue as he fucked you with shallow little movements of wet muscle. You panted, smacking the floor with your fists, twisting your body as you felt him nose against your clit again and again as he rubbed his mouth over you, lewd, wet noises slicing through the air as he all but slurped on your pussy. You mewled quietly, your hands moving to cover your flushed face.

He didn't mind. He ate you like he was starved of your cunt, of its musk. He lifted your hips off the floor and closer to his face, if that was even possible, shoving his tongue in and out, flicking it upwards against your fluttering walls as you sighed and gasped and squirmed in his hands.

His hot breath against your slick lips felt tingly. His tongue stilled and he pressed a kiss to your cunt and you groaned as you dared to peek at him from behind your fingers, seeing his green eyes fixed on your face as his head rose slowly from between your legs.

"Look at me," he growled, digging his nails into your thighs, making you gasp, "Look at me when I fuck you."

You whined and lowered your hands from your eyes to your neck, where you rested them, watching him over your heaving chest. He grinned, yellowed teeth glinting in the dim light of the room.

"Yes," he cocked his head to the side and pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. You felt your legs shake against the taut flesh of his upper back, "Keep those pretty eyes on me, if you want to keep them attached to your head."

You trembled, the threat making your mouth dry up in less than a second. You licked your lips nervously.

Frank extended his tongue, and with the firm tip, he brushed against your clit. Your mouth fell open and you let out a low, keening noise from your throat as you felt him against your sensitive nerve endings. It felt so hot. Everything felt so hot. You realized you were sweating, your back slick against the floorboards. Or was it blood? Everything felt so surreal as you watched the patient between your legs flick his tongue on your throbbing flesh, up and down, up and down, then in circles. Slow, teasing circles. Then faster. His eyes still fixed on you, gauging your reaction as he licked your clit. You felt like your head was going to explode. Why did it feel so good? Why did he have to look so good, his aquiline nose pressed against the soft thatch of hair between your legs, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to make you scream? He grunted into you. He likes the taste, you realised as your eyes wandered down to his groin, thin white fabric barely containing his hardening length, a little wet spot gathering on the fabric as he licked your clit. He was enjoying this. It was too much.

"Fuck!" you cried out, hips stuttering against his jaw and he hummed, placing his mouth over your clit, his tongue against the underside and he sucked. The feeling of your throbbing clit, engulfed in the heat of his mouth, the pressure - it tore a guttural, raw sound from your throat as you heard him chuckle against your tender flesh. You couldn't help but throw your head back, against the floorboards and gasp as he went to town again, licking and nipping at your cunt hungrily, devouring your slick arousal, his hands moving from your thighs to underneath your bucking form to cup and squeeze at your ass. You moaned wildly, feeling how his sinewy, impossibly strong arms held your lower body in the air, your knees trembling around his shoulders as he licked incessantly at your wetness. Everything felt electrified, even the air around you. Your cunt throbbed and pulsed against his tongue, you could feel little sparks lighting up your abdomen as you felt your orgasm get closer.

No. You're not going to cum.

You screwed your eyes shut, frowning, your shoulders heaving as you felt the tingles in your lower belly get nearly unbearable.

"Oh, oh god -..." you whispered hoarsely, hips involuntarily bucking against his face. He chuckled, low and throaty, the laugh vibrating against your labia and you grunted, slapping the floor again.

"That's it," Frank took his mouth off of you and pressed a chaste kiss to your clit. It sent cool, spiky shivers up your spine, "Cum on my face, babe."

"No," you choked out, "I'm - not your... your... Fuck!" you felt his thumbs move and press against the cleft of your ass, bringing your train of thought to a screeching halt, his fingers massaging the flesh so close to your asshole. It was obscene. So wrong. But it felt good.

"Oh?" he grinned, giving your cunt a short, fast lick before chuckling at the way you shuddered, "You're gonna cum. I'll make sure of that. Such sweet, lovely flesh. Delicious."

You felt his hand move from your asscheek to your perineum and up your slit, his calloused fingers spreading your lips expertly. You watched, hypnotised, as he held your hips up with one strong hand, his other one spreading you, his thumb wandering down to your hole, putting light pressure on it, his hot breath fanning over your cunt as you squeaked pitifully.

"No, stop this, please," you shook your head, feeling your blood slosh around your head, the tingling pressure of his finger on your opening clouding your thoughts further, "Please, this isn't right. F-Frank -..." his name, meant to be a stern warning, turned into a wanton moan as you heard and felt him spit against your wetness, his fingers rubbing into the little puddle. Your clit felt like it was on fire.

"Shh," he cooed.

He pushed two fingers inside you, bottoming them out to his knuckles. He moaned along with you.

"So tight," he hissed, curling his fingers up against the spongy tissue of your g-spot. You yowled.

"No, don't!" you felt your trembling hands shoot up to the crown of his head, your brain ordering you to rip him off of you - yet, your hands stayed still on his hair, your fingers digging into his scalp as he curled and uncurled his fingers inside you.

"You wanna cum, I can tell," he rasped against you, digging his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out, rolling his wrist around.

"Please don't make me cum," you panted, the friction against your core so deliciously slippery, it made you see little white sparks behind your eyelids as you shut your eyes, "Please, don't make me. I can't. We can't."

"But you want to?" Frank's beard tickled the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

"Yes," you huffed out, your brain a scrambled, horny mess, "I want to cum."

Everything was so wrong. But the throbbing inside you wouldn't cease. You wanted it. But you didn't. But you did. And you knew it. You felt your abdomen tighten as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"All you need to say is 'please'," he flattened his tongue against your clit, giving it a firm flick, "Look at me."

You opened your eyes. His green eyes fixed on you. Cat-like. No, predatory. He hummed against your sensitive bud. Curled his fingers against your sweet spot. You sighed, relaxing into his grip. You rubbed your fingers against his scalp, tangling your fingers into the greying, silver threads. He was so handsome. Eating you out. You wanted to cum so bad.

You'd made your decision hours ago, you rationalised as you gave into the pleasure. Stay with him.

"Please," you bit your lip. Everything felt so hot.

Frank shifted on his butt, adjusted your thighs on his shoulders, sitting up straighter, the floorboards creaking as he gave you a grin and turned his gaze to your dripping cunt.

"So delicious," he sighed, "I can't say no. Not to you. Not to this little delicacy."

His fingers started pumping into you with ferocity, rolling around your insides, reaching deep into you as you felt his tongue on your clit again. Fast, deliberate licks, combined with the pistoning of his long fingers inside your pussy. You felt your jaw go slack, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you let out a throaty groan, rutting your hips in his face as he fucked you with his fingers, his tongue. You could feel his eyes on your heaving chest. His other arm supporting your butt, kneading the flesh as he sucked on your clit. You felt some pressure around your hole and winced as he added another finger. Three. Your body felt like it was on fire.

"So wet," he murmured, kissing your cunt sloppily, "All mine."

"Yes," you whispered, grinding against his nose, "I'm - so close. Frank..."

His brows furrowed as he grunted against your lower lips. Your toes curled at the sight of him devouring you, the feeling of his tongue against thousands and thousands of raw, sparkling nerve endings, his tongue flicking against your velvety folds, his fingers sliding in and out with lewd squelches, you felt a combination of his warm saliva and your own arousal drip down your ass and onto the floor below you. Your head was spinning as your loins burned, clenched and spasmed.

"Oh, god," you cried out, digging your nails into his scalp, your head lifting off the floor as you closed your eyes, braced for the inevitable.

The sheer force of your pelvic muscles releasing the coil inside you knocked the breath out of you. A million little fireworks settled themselves inside your abdomen as you heard yourself moan wildly, your hips stuttering against his nose as you rode out your orgasm on his face. Everything felt light, fluttery. You felt tears in your eyes as you panted and huffed, your muscles spasming in pleasure and you laughed, and laughed, a wave of happy, lovely chemicals washing over you, catching you in a wild riptide of ecstasy. You let go of his hair, bringing your hands to your chest, wringing them together as you tried to just breathe.

Frank slid his fingers out of you and grabbed your hips, plopping them onto his lap so that you lay on his crossed legs, your limp legs on either side of his slim body. He was panting. Flushed face, beads of sweat, a throbbing erection against your pulsing cunt, your arousals separated by thin elastane fabric.

"Holy shit," you choked out, lifting your hand to your forehead, covering your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

Frank slid his fingers against your sensitive slit and you shuddered.

"So good," he murmured.

You gripped his wrist.

"No," you grunted, "Too sensitive."

"I need more," he whined, rubbing your clit with his thumb, his cock pressed against your backside.

Your brain felt fuzzy. You could distantly hear bangs and screams. Somewhere, maybe inside your brain. Maybe - maybe it wasn't so bad to stay here.

"Can I fuck you?" he breathed out, sliding his hands on your bare thighs and up your stomach to your nipples, "Can I please fuck you?"

You stared at him, trying to focus on his eyes.

"Yes-s-s," you hissed, feeling him pinch at your chest affectionately.

He reached under your ass and you felt the hot tip of his cock against your skin as he freed it from his underwear. Wet and throbbing. You giggled

"I've tamed you," he grunted, lifting his hips up so his length popped up from between your legs, the twitching underside flush against your cunt. You chewed on your lip. He rutted his hips up, his cock brushing against your overstimulated flesh.

"Not yet," you reached down between your legs, gripping him by the head, smiling weakly at him as you grew tired of your emptiness. You guided him inside you, his flesh sinking into you inch by inch. Frank whined, gripping the back of your knees.

He fucked three more orgasms out of you before you fainted, blissfully blacked out next to the puddles of blood and piss as he curled up beside you, sliding his finger against your abused cunt, feeling the quivering walls, slick with his cum. He murmured something to you. For hours on end, he spoke to you in hushed mutters, waiting for you to wake up.

"Sweet flesh. Tender flesh."

#outlast: whistleblower #outlast x reader #frank manera #frank manera x reader #not sfw #afab reader #blood /#only one gif of frank and it's with subtitles? in polish? might have to remedy this #reader insert #outlast fanfiction

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hozierandco · 3 years

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Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT

A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.

For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.

Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.

Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.

The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.

"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"

Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.

"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.

"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"

Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.

Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.

The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.

Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.

Or so she thought.

"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.

"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.

Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.

"Please, let me be your guide"

"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"

"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.

Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.

As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"

It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.

"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.

"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.

"It's a yes, then?"

"Yes, it is"

"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.

"I'm a golf instructor"

"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"

"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"

"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"

Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.

"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"

***

"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.

She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.

Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.

"May I?"

"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.

She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.

"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"

And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.

"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"

"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"

The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.

As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.

Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.

He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"

As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"

"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"

Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.

"Is she a great teacher to you?"

"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"

Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"

The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.

Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.

They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.

"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"

"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"

"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"

"And you doubt it?"

"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"

After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.

Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.

Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.

With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.

"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"

The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.

"I would let you" Y/N replied.

***

Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.

"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.

"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.

After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.

As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.

He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.

"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.

He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."

Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.

"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.

"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"

"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.

Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.

Gracious God! There was lot to look at...

Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.

"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.

"Never been more sure in my whole life"

Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.

He was just half through when it began to hurt.

"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"

Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.

There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.

As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.

His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.

Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.

The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.

It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.

This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.

"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.

Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"

Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.

"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.

"Come for me, doll!"

She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.

But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.

He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.

"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"

Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.

Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.

In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.

Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.

Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.

She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.

"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"

Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.

Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.

"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.

#henry cavill #imagines #henry cavill imagines #smut #oops i guess #mind that i wrote smut in the train for the sake of science #henry cavill x reader

157 notes · View notes

presidentbungus · 2 years

Note

Can I get uhhhhhhhhh a short fuse (demoengie) with a side of crossfaction? Maybe with a little bit of sneaking around and/or pining thank yew :3

uhh it’s been like a month but good news I’m back on this shit again😁😁😁 motivation damaged but not down. love wins. should hopefully be back on that grind again soonish💪💪💪💪💪

anyway uhh yeah I went a little nuts with the pining aspect friends to lovers wm I right😂😂😂 but yeah hopefully this works. whatevr I said in the beginning note about demo being skeptical on the existence of emotions. the conclusion’s a bit poopy because I did NOT know how to end it but I do whatever I want . I am going to say I want to return to this later and realistically I will not but love has won bigger before wish me luck

ao3

Demo takes off from his own base in the dead of night, landing in the sand deep in BLU territory. He remembers to pack his parachute today—that’s a good thing. His ankles barely even snap as he hits the ground.

The roll-up garage door guarding the combination workshop-infirmary was a very careful decision on Engie’s part, for a lot of reasons, though Demo doubts this one was really what he envisioned while he was getting it installed. If it works, though, it works. Tavish marches up to it and knocks once, followed by two quick taps—a Morse code ‘D’. Dell’s right behind the door as it rolls up and Demo kind of wants to tackle him, but he settles for an uneasy side-hug as he limps into the lab.

“It’s been a while,” Tavish says, and he lets himself smile just this once. “Where’ve you been?”

“Busy as all hell. Everyone is—this is the first night in awhile nobody’s bothering us. Did you sticky jump here again?”

Demo stops for a moment, dumping his stuff onto the workbench, and then swivels. “Well my ankles are only a wee bit broken. Give me some credit.”

Dell frowns. “One ‘a these days you’re just gonna, like, hit your head on a rock or something in the middle of the desert. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s no problem, Truckie, really. If I couldn’t bloody sticky jump I wouldn’t have my job.”

“I still reckon—“

“Hello, Demoman,” comes a high-pitched voice from somewhere deeper in the bowels of the lab. “If you have to use the Medi-Gun you may though please avoid sudden movements. I am working with a new specimen.”

Engie must see Demo’s incredulous look flash across because he squeezes his arm and says: “Oh yeah, I guess I shoulda said Medic’s here too.”

There’s a divider curtain. Medic pulls it back and waves. “I have been sworn to secrecy already, and to be frank with you I do not really care. I’m not here. Don’t worry about it.”

Demo goes through the curtain and plunks down on the operating table, as Dell tinkers with something and gets the Medi-Gun on and going. “One of these days, Engie…”

“It’s fine. No one’ll know, I promise.”

“Medic knows.”

“Medic’s trustworthy. That’s a lie. Medic’s trustworthy about this one thing in particular.”

Tavish flexes his ankles, feeling the bones fit back together, narrowing his eye.

“I am a very trustworthy person,” Medic adds, and it’s not immediately clear if it’s sarcasm or not.

“Tell yourself what you need to,” Engie says. He flicks off the Medi-Gun, grabs Tavish by the shoulder, leads him back to the workshop. “Anything in particular you wanna work on, or…”

Tavish sniffles. “I dunno. What’re you doin’ right now?”

“Well, I thought I might work on the ol’ level three print a little—and, um, wait, I guess I was—what do you think of the rockets I have in here right now? They’re pretty lightweight so I can load ‘em easier but they don’t do quite as much damage as I want.”

"God I missed this," Tavish says, and Engie stares at him, and he follows: "The, uh... construction is... a wee bit interesting."

Engie grins. "That bad?"

"You said it, not me," and Engie claps him on the back and it feels like every single wee little thing he's been stressin' over the last six months just goes away.

—

Tavish wakes up late-late at night-almost-morning when someone nudges him, and he sits up and he yawns and stretches and for a moment he's not sure where he is.

He rubs his eye enough it ain't so damn blurry and he's a little hungover and he sees Engie next to him, smiling gently, saying words he doesn't quite process yet, and he looks back and Medic's also talking behind him. Maybe to him. He can't tell.

Some damn noise, and he looks over and realizes Engie's trying to get his attention. "Hey. Hey. You awake?"

What comes out of Demo's mouth next is more a mangled clump of vowels than anything resembling words, but he hopes he gets the idea.

"I'm, uh. Sorry—I don't wanna have to wake you up, but..."

"It is bedtime," Medic says, and the fact that he's in a tank top and cross-covered pajama pants and dinky little dove slippers makes sense. "Just because we have company does not mean we can afford to lose sleep. Isn’t that right, Engie?”

Dell looks at Medic, and then looks at Tavish pleadingly, like he’s begging him to say something, and then he crosses his arms and looks at the floor.

“Ahem.”

“Yes, Doc. Whatever you want me to say.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Medic hums. “I know you would like to cuddle some more but there are other priorities.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Medic does not elaborate. Demo squints. “Um, what?”

“I wouldn’t call it cuddlin’, necessarily. Needed a surface to sleep on and he chose me.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it or anything—I, uh, I didn’t mind.”

Demo squints a little more, standing and taking a few steps away. There’s a very visible patch of drool staining Engie’s overalls.

… Whoops.

“As amusing as this is I am going to have to ask you to leave, Demo,” Medic says, and despite the total absence of sincerity he doesn’t seem mean about it. “Thank you for visiting. Come again! Or something along those lines.”

“Uh… sure.” Something structurally integral in Demo’s brain is falling apart very noisily—he can practically hear the beams snapping. “Yeah. Alright.”

Medic seizes Engie by the shoulder, lifting him out of his seat and dragging him towards the door. “See you later, partner.”

“Bye Engie.” Why exactly does his chest feel like it is going to implode? He might be having a heart attack. “Um, seeya. Or something.”

He only realizes once he’s already taken off again that his parachute is still where he left it, under the desk in the workshop, and he wakes up in respawn with a headache and vaguely remembers smashing his head into the base wall and feels like maybe just this one time Engie was right.

—

Behind the wall, under the stairs, away from the fight in the first place. Nobody comes down here unless they’re spies and spies should know to leave enough alone. He caught Engie making the trek back to the cart—the toolbox he was carrying lays in the canal, contents sinking, and Tavish has a foot on his chest and a sword aimed right at his throat.

God—he does this too much. Engie grins at him despite every single thing, still just having the time of his life, and he clears his throat and braces his arms against the ground and says: “You know I won’t get mad at you if ya kill me.”

Tavish considers himself to be in tune with his emotions, or something stupid like that. It would be lying to say he doesn’t care if Engie cares—he does. That’s the bloody thing. That’s why he sits here without the bloody balls to bring the sword down into his throat, do his job, seal the fucking deal. No matter what he sits there and says to make him feel better about it and no matter how much he grins his lopsided little grin, that makes Tavish’s chest ache if he looks at it too long.

It’s why he drives the sword into the cobbled pavement instead of Engie, leans on the hilt and tries not to look like his organs are six seconds from coming out his mouth, and he says: “Can’t we just talk?”

“Tavvy, you know I wish we could.” He probably knows how absolutely devastating this feels, so he sits up best he can and taps Demo on the knee with his wrench. “I’m sorry. You remember what happened ‘tween you and Soldier.”

“I know. Keep getting attached to things I can’t have.”

He doesn’t expect Dell to hear this, but he does, of course. “Hey, don’t be like that. We can make this work out. Just gotta be careful—“

And it’s right here something splats, and it takes Demo a second to realize Engie’s face isn’t there anymore. Just blood. A bullet gleams in the gore. Sniper waves at him through a window and Demo glares but he can’t bring himself to say anything.

… Maybe if he let Engie stand up a little faster…

There’s no point in thinking about it, he knows. Probably for the best or something along those lines. Demo feels a thousand pounds heavy as he drags himself away. About eleven minutes later he crosses the line of fire and Engie waves at him and he’s instantly blown up by a level three, and he thinks he sort of deserves it to be honest.

—

“I don’t—I dunno, mate. It’s hard. It’s so bloody hard and I wish it weren’t.”

Scout leans against his shoulder—already having a fair hard time staying upright. Barely two bottles deep, plus the beer out here’s like water. Bloody lightweight. “What’s hard?”

“… Engie. Being friends with… Engineer. The other one. Have you been listening?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m sorry but I think you’re thinking way too much about it.”

“Scout, you’re drunk.”

“Y’know—“ (hic)—“y’know I don’t really get your choice in guys but, you know, do what you want. Free freakin’ country.”

Demo pushes Scout off a little, so he just slides into his lap instead. “Choice in—huh?”

“Y’know what I do when I got my eye on someone? I’ll tell ya. I—I shoot my shot, I tell ‘em. You worry about it and you’re done for, okay. Just—just dead in the water. Like a stupid fish. Stomach up in the air.”

“Scout, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Shoot your—your freakin’ shot, man, is what I mean!”

Oh god what is he saying. “I’m not in… I’m not in love with him, Scout, what the hell are you on?”

Scout hiccups for a long time and then eventually turns his entire body over and looks up at Demo with glistening eyes, crumpled like he just said something deeply harmful.

After a while of flapping his stupid jaw and saying nothing he eventually says: “Are you… sure?”

“Why do people keep bloody thinkin’ we’re shacking up or some shite? We’re mates! Mates do things together! It’s okay for me to wantae—you know.”

“Kiss him?”

Demo hesitates for entirely too long. “Platonically.”

Scout sits up a little and spits into the grass, for no apparent reason. “Shoot your shot, man,” he says.

“You’re drunk, Scoutie.”

“So are you.”

“You’re not thinkin’—“

“On love.”

Tavish doesn’t know how to respond to this so he just says: “If you throw up on my bloody pants I’m pushing ye off the roof.”

“Am I freakin’ wrong?”

Demo doesn’t reply.

“‘S’what I thought.”

“It’s not gonna be… we can’t, y’know. Too much risk. Even now we gotta sneak around behind all your backs.”

“No one cares, Demo.”

“The bloody company cares. Can’t go around just—givin’ sweet little kisses to everyone I fancy.”

Scout’s entire body tightens, and Demo scrambles backwards as he expects puke to factor in somewhere but it’s just to release a particularly violent cough. “So you just… be careful, huh? And I mean it’s not like he’s Soldier—“

“Scout you are literally repeating what he keeps saying to me.”

“Maybe it’s true.”

Tavish has no reply to this.

“You ain’t gonna be happy if you just pretend it doesn’t exist cause you’re sad or whatever, pally. Ya gotta steel your nuts and bite the bullet and just tell him.”

“… Okay.” Tavish does not feel comfortable with this. “Are ye… sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m sure.”

Demo burps, patting Scout’s shoulder, trying to figure out a way to combat this but he can’t and as terrifying as that is it’s also a little bit… weird. Good weird. He can’t think of the word and he doesn’t want to.

“You know,” he says—with the idea he’ll go somewhere after this.

“I know what?”

“One time we were workin’ together and I fell asleep on him and he let me sleep on him for like three hours—“

“He loves you back,” Scout mumbles.

“You really think so?”

“Stop—thinkin’ about it, I already said.”

“… Okay.”

“Listen. You’re gonna go to that—uh, wherever you’re goin’. March up to him. Say I love you. If it’s anything like the movies, you’ll kiss.”

Tavish sneers. “Is that the basis for your comparison, lad?”

“No. I mean like a realistic movie. Just tell me you’re gonna do it.”

“Why would I?”

“‘Cause you want to.”

“… You don’t know that.”

Scout clambers onto him, clutching his shirt. “Yes I do. I know everything.”

“No you don’t. You’re drunk.”

“Say you promise.”

“I don’t—“

“Promise me, Demo.”

“Will you get off me?”

“Tell him how you feel.”

“Okay.” Something breaks in his head, again. “Okay. Christ. Fine. I’ll tell him.”

Scout gives a doofy little smile, and sloughs back onto the ground. “Great to hear, pal.”

“If it goes bad I’ll kill ye.”

“It won’t.”

God Tavish hopes Scout is right.

—

Been going on an hour or two--nothing between them but the Haze, coffee and beer and not sleeping for however long it's been, for either of them. Demo works shitty low-end jobs in Teufort to keep his mum happy and Dell just does his thing, contraptions no one needed or wanted but that he still works on, night after night after sleepless day. Always going. Tavish doesn't know if his family ever even existed--wouldn't be surprised if he came out of the oil field one day, from the dust and sun, never slept a wink since.

Tonight's Friday. Tavish's sticky launcher lies in front of them, disassembled, as Dell makes notes on its structure and construction. Have to have done this a thousand times but he always finds somethin' new to gloat on. Here's the one day of the week Medic's not allowed to bug him about getting to bed in time, long as he sleeps in--maybe it was half an hour ago he said that he just got up at six anyway and kept to himself in the workshop, til Medic got wise and started listening for the door arsecrack of the morning. It’s not healthy and Demo tells him that but then Engie says well he sleeps about two hours a day cause of all those jobs and Demo says three hours, actually, and they both laugh because neither of them want to implicate each other of something they’re both entirely guilty of.

He knows he’s supposed to say something—he knows what he supposed to say, but he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to say it, so he decides he’ll bring it up later, maybe when they’re both a bit more drunk and sleep-drunk, high on the night. (Drunk on love, a voice annoyingly similar to Scout’s urges, which he blocks our soon as it comes). Somewhere deep inside of him he knows if he keeps postponing it, it’s never going to happen.

Just a little longer, he promises that little image of Scout running circles in his head—maybe stumbling, considering the state he was in two nights ago. He was hoping he wouldn’t remember the conversation but he came up at like nine in the goddamn morning wearing sunglasses and full-body flinching at every noise telling him off for why hasn’t he done it yet, even though a grand total of six hours (three hours of sleep) had passed.

And even now Engie sets a hand on his back, smiling gently, sending some terrifying unidentifiable electricity through his body, and Tavish resists the urge to lean into him.

“Hey,” he says, the ever-present chuckle in his voice a calming undercurrent. “You alright? You’re thinking a lot.”

Tavish smiles, even though the act of it makes his organs rearrange in his chest cavity. “Oh—yeah, I’m great. Musta zoned out for a sec. What were you saying?”

Dell bites his bottom lip—he’s thinking about something, and by god Demo hopes it’s not him.

“Now you’re thinking,” Tavish mutters. “That ain’t fair.”

“… Partner, you know I think communication’s important.”

The way his heart drops straight into his bloody kidneys. “Of course.”

“If something’s wrong… you can tell me.”

“Are you sure?” This is not what he meant to say this is not what he meant to say at all. “I mean—“

“Of course I’m sure,” and it takes Demo a second to process what exactly just happened, and he looks down at his hand and finds Dell gripping it tight tight tight and he’s a little dizzy, to be honest. “You know I‘m here for you. Thick n’ thin. If there’s something bothering you it’s bothering me too, alright?”

“… I don’t think ye wantae know.” This one’s true, at the very least.

“I do, is the issue.” He’s gaining speed. “If it’s—you’re allowed to talk about yourself, Tavvy. Ain’t no one gonna judge you here.”

“It’s different,” he urges. “I have—I’m fine, but—it’s not that.”

“So what is it?” The look on his face is a very clear we are coming back to this later.

“I don’t—I just can’t—“

Engie hugs him, and squeezes out every single thought in his mind.

With one awful exception.

Stupid fish. Dead in the bloody water. Shoot your shot, chucklenuts.

“I love you,” he says.

“What?”

“I’ve—I’ve just been—“ go for it, go for it, dead in the water, don’t go bloody belly up you’ve made it this far—“I guess I’m just trying to say that, um… I just think maybe…”

“Demo?”

“I said I love you,” he says, more firmly, and when Dell doesn’t respond he keeps going: “You care too much about me and—we’ve been meetin’ for lord knows how long and every time you touch me it feels like I’m gonna die in a good way, and if you don’t think that too that’s alright and I’m not gonna—“

“I love you too.”

Something white hot burns down his spine and into his blood, flashing into the ends of his fingers and back.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it, Tavish. I really do.”

“Are you sure?”

And here Engie pulls back and to be honest Demo’s a bit sore at the loss of contact but the hands on his shoulders are still there and for a second they’re so close their faces are almost touching, just sitting there and there’s no one else in the goddamn world but them two, and Dell’s goggles are off and there’s something in his eyes so deep and joyful Tavish feels a little dizzy just thinking about it and Dell says: “May I?”

“May you what?” Smooth moves, Tavish. “Wait. I think I got it. Yes you can.”

Something connects—and it connects and everything lights up on fire, burning impossibly bright and loud, and Demo is probably going insane by now but he can swear it just tastes like honey—sweet and rich. When Dell pulls back from the kiss he feels like some large part of him has been taken with it and Dell can have it for all he goddamn cares.

They kiss again shorter this time and Tavish can’t feel his legs and Dell says, a little breathless: “I hope that answers all relevant questions.”

And look at that, he’s still alive. “Still swimming in the bloody reef.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

He grins, pulling Tavish down to kiss him on the chin, and Tavish is just kind of going along with whatever at this point to be honest. “Oh, shucks, this is great,” he says. “I’m—oh. I’m so excited. I love you so much.” Another chin-kiss, a little higher.

“… I love you too.” Is this really all he had to do? “Are you sure?”

“Sure as a sparrow in spring, sweetheart.”

Tavish is pretty sure that means yes. “Alright,” he says.

“Alright? We’re good. We’re so good.”

“Y’know we’re partners now.” Emphasize partners, with a little stupid accent to draw across the joke. Dell gets it in about half a second, given how loud he immediately starts laughing, kissing Demo again and again and again until he’s more dizzy than he already was and he knows Scout’s gonna I-told-you-so ‘til the sun burns out but for once maybe he deserves it.

Tavish could get used to this, he really could, and part of that’s terrifying but also mind-numbingly thrilling in some bizarre, to be honest fairly obvious way.

Digression, or something. Something tells him right here and right now he doesn’t have to think about it so hard, and maybe that’s enough. Drunk on love. He’s gonna punch Scout when he gets back to base.

#short fuse #bungus fics #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #fic requests #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #sniper’s there for like 3 seconds #science party #platonic but still present💖💖💖💖💖

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blackbat05 · 2 years

Text

Sweet Payback

Shang-Chi x Reader

A/N: A short piece to reflect my current mental state🤟🏽 Hope this makes you laugh if you’re having a tough time like I am🙂

Genre: Pure Crack (I got inspired by someone farting on the train, but I guess inspiration comes from the wildest of places right?)

***

‘Come on Shang-Chi! We’re gonna be late!’ You knocked on the door for what you think is the umpteenth time.

‘Ugh… what the hell did they put in that thing?’

You shake your head in amusement. By “thing”, Shang-Chi meant the Tom Yum Soup you two had for dinner yesterday. Little did you know what trouble this spicy cuisine would bring to your morning.

‘I’m going to bring some medicine okay?’ You were concerned that your boyfriend would soon shit his intestines out together with whatever was causing this.

The door unlocks, and Shang-Chi appears a little paler than usual.

‘I’m good.’ He gasps, stumbling out of the bathroom. ‘Let’s go before Fury kicks both of our asses for being late.’

***

‘Agent L/N! Shang-Chi! Good to see you finally on time!’ Fury addresses the two of you as you made it into the meeting room where the other Avengers were waiting.

Kate Bishop gives you a sympathetic stare, passing the briefs along to you.

‘Morning troubles huh?’

‘More like bowel troubles with this one.’ You pointed to Shang-Chi who was in brief conversation with Marc Spector before being interrupted by Fury.

Engaged in strategy tactics and training schedules for the newer recruits, you don’t see the subtle change in Shang-Chi’s expression.

Damn it. Not now! He thinks.

It felt like his stomach was being twisted on the inside, imaginary hands not ready to let go soon. He sees Fury deeply engrossed in his newest strategy - man would be pissed if his momentum was stopped.

Shang-Chi had to do something soon before his insides explode. If only he could silently release a little bit…

Oh to heck with it!

The difference relieves Shang-Chi of his anguish. Now he had to think fast before the group of Avengers caught on to him.

Why didn’t he think of it earlier?

Peter is the first one to catch the putrid smell wafting around the room. ‘Uh… I don’t mean to be rude but would someone mind opening the windows please?’ The poor boy looked like he was going to suffocate if this was prolonged a minute longer.

‘God! What is that smell!’ Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose, standing up to fulfil Peter’s request. Despite the windows now being opened, the damage was done.

‘Feels like that nasty burrito we had yesterday.’ A British accent pips up from beside Shang-Chi who almost gave the mercenary the stank eye.

‘Steven?’

‘Yeah. For the first time Marc is willing to let me have the body!’ Steven pouts in his chair, holding his nose. ‘So much for a bloody mercenary. Gosh where is the air freshener when you need one!’

Shang-Chi quickly does the same, turning to his unsuspecting scapegoat. You.

‘Uh, babe? You want to take a time out for this one?’

You blink at him, momentarily confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Aw come on!’

‘Y/N! What the hell did you eat?’

‘Please chill on the garlic would you?’

A series of chorus rang throughout the room as you attempt to figure out what was going on. Slowly connecting the dots, your eyes land on your boyfriend who was conveniently avoiding eye contact with you.

‘Oh no you didn’t…’ You mumbled it loudly enough for Shang-Chi to hear.

He springs out from his seat, surprisingly agile for someone who had a stomachache a few hours ago.

‘COME HERE YOU SNIVELLING COWARD!’

He quickly runs behind Steven who was looking very lost for protection.

Scanning the room, your eyes land on the perfect weapon. You march over to Frank Castle himself who was quietly watching the chaotic scene in amusement.

‘Pellets?’

‘Non lethal.’ Frank nods.

‘Perfect.’

Before any of the Avengers could react, you whipped out Frank’s gun, aiming it at Shang-Chi who had been abandoned by Steven.

‘This will ought to teach you not to be a liar!’ Releasing the trigger, the pellet flies towards Shang-Chi’s direction who expertly dodges it with much ease.

Only to smack the boss man right in the face.

The whole room had went collectively silent, watching the whole fiasco go down. Pellet dropping in front of Fury’s foot, Avengers started to move their chairs, making excuses from needing to go on a mission to feeding their dog.

‘Agent?’

‘Yes sir?’ You respond meekly, knowing what was about to come next.

‘My office. Now.’

***

Shang-Chi hears the door to your shared apartment open. You walk in, absolutely exhausted.

‘Not. Another. Word.’

Shang-Chi carefully approaches you, before you fall towards him.

‘Was it that bad?’

‘Try cleaning the entire quinjet by hand.’ You counter back, making him flinch slightly.

‘Sorry babe, I had two strikes from Fury this month. If I get another one-’

You cut him off. ‘You owe me. Big time.’

‘Anything you say.’

He was so going to regret that. ‘Anything?’

Shang-Chi nods.

‘You’re doing laundry and dishes for the whole month.’

Getting up from his embrace, you leave his stunned figure behind. Shang-Chi follows you a few seconds later.

‘Y/N? Come on we can negotiate this! Pleaseee? Did you forget how I shrunk my combat suit?’

‘Maybe you should consider a crop top for battle then!’

‘COME ON BABE!’

***

A/N: Will be taking a break on writing for a while! I’ll still be here😊

#xu shangqi #shangqi x reader #shang chi x reader #simu liu #shang chi #shangqi #xu shangchi #xu shangqi x reader #xu shang chi x reader #crack fic #pure crack

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thewordworrier · 2 years

Text

You’d Get Your Knuckles Bloody For Me

Word Count: 7,415 words. [This got away from me a little. God damn it.] Category: Light hurt/comfort. Warnings: Mentions of blood and fighting, implications of mild harassment via notes. Notes: ~ Title is from “Exile” by Taylor Swift. ~ Late High School AU. (Though this uniform reminds me of a fancy Prep School so who knows.) My typical bastardised understanding of the American schooling system. Baring in mind, I’m a Brit and I don’t reallyyyyyy fancy looking up just for a little bit of fan fic. Just go with me. ~ Female OC ~ Pre-established friendship. [Yeah, we all know this shoot, don’t we?]

[Setting: Age 17/18 - Late schooling? Idk how America works XD my bastardised version.] “Shelly, there’s a kid at the door for you.” Shelly looked up from fiddling with her violin strings as Rachel stood aside, allowing the blonde to see who was standing in the doorway to the music rooms. She recognised the nervous looking guy, shifting from foot to foot and shook her head. “Gimme a second,” she said, quickly putting her instrument in its case. Rachel nodded and went back to whatever she had been doing to her own instrument, leaving the boy in the doorway. Shelly thought that this was kinda rude, so she grabbed her bag and instrument case a little faster than normal before heading over to the doorway, letting the door close behind her. “Hey Mikey,” she said quietly. “Are you okay?” Mikey pushed his glasses up his nose and shook his head. “It’s not me.” The blonde sighed quietly. “Is it Gee?” “Yup,” he nodded quickly. “Go on then, lead the way.” Mikey led her away from the music rooms to the nearby art rooms. He stopped outside one of the closed doors and shifted in his spot. “Um,” he started, looking a little guilty. “I wasn’t supposed to get you, really. So I’m not gonna hang around.” “Mm hm, alright,” she patted his shoulder gently. “Go on, it’s fine.” “Thanks, Shelly.” Mikey smiled at her before hurrying off. She waited until he’d gone before rolling her eyes, letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose. She shook her head and opened the door as quietly as she could until she could see inside the classroom. Sitting on one of the tables, slowly swinging his legs as he stared at his shoes, was the boy in question - Mikey’s older brother, Gerard. Although, she called him Gee, at least most of the time, providing she was in a good mood. That would depend on how the next conversation went. Gerard looked up as the door closed and his eyes widened when he saw her standing there. “I… He was supposed to get Frank…” Shelly felt her eyes widen when she saw the state of his face. “Gerard!” He blinked rapidly as she hurried over, putting her bag and instrument case on the table next to him. Ah. Her violin case. He winced a little when he saw that - the fact that she had that with her meant that he’d interrupted her practising, and he honestly felt bad about that. “Hi, Shell.” He smiled up at her as she stood near him, and he knew she was giving him a proper once over. “Um, you weren’t supposed to see this.” “Apparently not!” She hesitated before carefully brushing some of his hair off of his face. “Mikey did say that he wasn’t supposed to fetch me. That’s why he’s gone. Probably figured that you’d yell at him.” Gerard hummed and averted his eyes so he didn’t look at her face. Because he wasn’t looking at her, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but he did hear her sigh. “Oh, Gerard.” He glanced up at her. “Not Gee today then?” Shelly shook her head slowly before raising an eyebrow at him. He grinned back at her raised eyebrow, not really sure what else to say and it wasn’t like she was giving him a lot to go on. She sighed again, at his grin, before gently taking his face in her hands so she could look at him a little closer. He let her do as she pleased, although he tried not to focus too much on her face or her eyes. She was worried, he had already figured that bit out. “Um,” he started when she let go of his face. “You have a first aid kit in your bag, right?” “The most basic of them, yes.” “Do you think you could... ?” Gerard gestured to his face and nibbled his bottom lip. The blonde sighed again and shook her head as she started to go through her bag. He was the whole reason she kept a first aid kit in a zip pouch tucked in there. It was the most minimalistic one; travel packets of baby wipes for cleaning up (because you couldn’t carry water and tissues around with you all the time), some kind of antiseptic cream, plasters of various sizes (and designs too now that she thought about it). Also in that pouch, but not inside the other one she kept the first aid stuff in, was a little sewing kit. That had proven to be incredibly useful too. “So,” she said, pulling the baby wipes out. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” “I, um…” Gerard let her lift his chin. “Is this going to sting?” “Shouldn’t do, they’re unscented and not antiseptic. That’s the cream.” She looked over his face again. “Although, those who get themselves into this kinda mess shouldn’t be picky with the person trying to clean them up.” Gerard hesitated before nodding for her to continue. She did have a point. “Sorry, Shell,” he mumbled, trying to resist the instinct to look down with his head as well as his eyes - she was still trying to clean him up after all. She hummed quietly and cleared as much of the blood off of his face as she could. She uttered a “tch” which made him look at her, even more so when she moved away from him to get a chair, which she put in front of him before sitting on it. She gestured for him to give her his hoodie, which he did. She spread it over her lap and grabbed the ankle of the leg that had the bloody knee. Gerard watched, almost amused as she put his foot on her leg, his shoe on his own hoodie. “I’m not gonna risk getting my uniform messy,” she said quietly, starting to clean his knee. “It’s fair,” Gerard said quietly. “You still have an image to uphold after all.” The blonde looked up at him, both her eyebrows rising in surprise. “Excuse you.” He smiled weakly back at her. “Gerard,” she sighed. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m a mess, I know that,” he shrugged. “More so right now than normal.” Shelly shook her head and dabbed at his knee in silence for a moment. “Didn’t you only just get these trousers?” “Pants,” he corrected gently with a small smile. “Oh, whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to stop doing that? You know what I mean.” “I might one day,” he grinned at her a little before swallowing. “Um, yeah, they’re reasonably new.” “Your mother is gonna kill you,” she checked over his knee before tapping the side of his leg so he would move it, standing when he did. Gerard winced, actually having forgotten about that part. “Yeah… Yeah, she very well might.” “I hope it was worth it,” the blonde moved her braid over her shoulder out of the way as she checked his face again. “What?” Gerard tilted his head at her. She tutted at him. “Keep still.” “You asked me a question!” He tried to protest, only getting a raised eyebrow in response. He pouted at this. “I’ll behave.” “Good,” she searched through the pouch before going through her bag instead, pulling out a small brush. “I mean it, keep still.” Gerard hummed as she quickly but gently ran the brush through his hair before moving it off of his face a little better. He kinda wished that she hadn’t done that, because moving his hair meant that she could see the cut just above his eyebrow. He knew that she’d noticed it because her eyes widened a fraction and she backed off to get the rest of the contents of her little first aid kit. “Oh Gerard,” she sighed, but this time it sounded sadder. “What?” Gerard glanced down as she nudged his legs apart with her body before standing in between them. Probably so she could get to his face a bit better, he thought. Not for any other reason. “Close your eyes.” He did as he was told, not sure he would be able to deal with the almost direct eye contact anyway, so truthfully he was a bit thankful for the chance to not have to look at her. She was concerned, he knew she was; she might not have said it, but her eyes gave her away. Much like the fact that she was acting a little cross with him - he knew she wasn’t properly mad, because she was still being so gentle. She could’ve been gripping his chin instead of cupping his cheek, and she could’ve been wiping or scrubbing instead of dabbing at the rapidly drying blood on his face. She cared and he knew it. “Are you in any pain?” She asked softly after a few minutes. “Um,” Gerard took a second to think about it. “Not now, no.” “Were you?” “A little,” he confessed quietly. “It’s more of a gentle ache now.” “Hmm.” He opened his eyes when he felt her hands move from his face, blinking a little faster for a second. “What’re you making that noise for?” “It could be worse, I suppose,” she nudged the chair closer so he could rest his foot on it, nodding happily when he did so. “You don’t think your nose is broken or anything?” Gerard felt his nose as he watched her start putting an antiseptic cream on his knee. He must’ve twitched his leg due to how cold that stuff could be, because she ended up grabbing his thigh to hold him still. It wasn’t too high up on his leg, thankfully, but still… “I don’t think so,” he said, eyeing her hand on his leg. “I mean, I like to think that I’d know, right?” Shelly nodded. “I think so. So you don’t really hurt?” He shook his head. “A little bit of an ache, and I think the one above my eye is gonna sting a bit. I might have a bruise or two at the end of the day -” The blonde shot up from her slightly bent position from where she’d been treating his knee. “A bruise? Where?” “I may have received a kick to the ribs,” Gerard winced as he spoke. “As well as another area or two…” “Gerard!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m fine Shell, really I am.” She gave him A Look and he grinned nervously. “Or, at least, I will be.” “Hm!” Shelly tossed her braid back over her shoulder as she retrieved the cream again. “Keep still, as you said, this one might sting.” He nodded before doing as he was told, only hissing a tiny bit when, as they both predicted, it stung. “There there,” Shelly soothed as she worked. “I know it hurts, I know.” Gerard just grumbled quietly. “Hush now,” she said, her tone a little sterner. “You will go and get yourself into this state.” “Hmn.” Shelly finished putting the cream on his head and gently brushed his hair away from it; a little to prevent his hair from sticking to the skin or wound and also because she knew he kinda liked it when she played with his hair. “I might have to actually put a plaster on that one,” she said quietly, smiling a bit before she continued. “Behave or it’ll be a pretty pink one.” Gerard laughed. “Are you saying I couldn’t pull that off?” She giggled and had a quick shuffle through her plasters before looking up at his face again. She frowned and brushed his hair away from his eyes to double check the size of the wound before looking back at her plasters. “I could totally rock a pink one,” Gerard said, watching her as she flicked through them. “So don’t feel bad if you need to use one of those.” “I’m sure I’ve got one the right size that isn’t pink,” she pulled one out and held it up to the light to squint at it. “This one is green. I think it has either a pumpkin or a bat on it.” “Oh, Halloween ones?” Gerard brightened. “Gimme. Frank will be jealous.” Shelly tutted a little before checking the size of the plaster against his head, moving to stand back between his legs to do so. She sighed a little when it seemed to be the right size and shook her head. “Hold your hair out of the way for me.” Not one to go against her wishes in general, doubly so when she was helping him out, Gerard did as he was told and held his hair out of the way, watching her pull the plaster out of the packaging. “Keep still,” she said quietly. “Except, maybe move a little closer?” Gerard tucked his hair behind his ear so he could shuffle forward on the desk before turning his head to give her much better and easier access. “How’s that?” “Perfect, thank you.” He nodded and went back to making sure his hair was out of the way, whilst also keeping as still as he could. She hummed, so he must’ve been doing a good job, which just made him smile a little before he held his hand out for the backing wrapper. This was pretty much an automatic reaction now. “Thank you,” she peeled the protective stuff off of the back, put the bits in his hand and positioned the plaster near his cut. “Keep very still.” “Mm hm.” Gerard even held his breath a little. The blonde hummed to herself quietly as she positioned the plaster and, ever so gently, pressed it down. She heard Gerard make some sort of soft noise and shushed him soothingly. “I know,” she said, lightly pressing the edges to make sure they had stuck properly. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. “You’re trying to help.” “That’s because you’re my friend, dumbass,” Shelly muttered as she checked his nose again. “That’s what friends do.” “Yeah,” he grinned a little at the gentle name calling. “Yeah I know that. But, it feels like you’re always having to help me out and I never have to help you.” She made a noise of acknowledgement before lifting his chin with her fingers and dabbing at a bit of blood that she’d missed. “I don’t mind Gerard. Really.” “I…” He paused for a second as she dabbed near his lip, only speaking when she’d moved to check his knee again. “I’m sorry I interrupted your practising… I honestly did send Mikey to get Frank, not you, because I knew you’d be in the music room.” “Gerard. It’s fine,” she said, putting a little more cream on the graze on his knee. “I don’t think I can save your trousers though. I’m good at sewing but not that good.” “Oh, it’ll be fine.” He smiled at her raised eyebrow before continuing. “I might be able to sneak them to grandma before mom notices.” Shelly shook her head and took his hand to look at his knuckles. Gerard hoped that she didn’t hear him swallow a little harder than normal. “This isn’t your blood, is it?” She asked, looking back up at him. He shook his head slowly. “No.” “Who’s is it?” “That doesn’t matter,” he shook his head again, a little more fiercely this time. Shelly frowned at him before brushing his hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear, her other hand still holding his. When she spoke, her voice was gentle. “Why not? Why doesn’t it matter?” Carefully, she let his hand go to check the other one. He heard her tut softly before she started dabbing at his hands and knuckles. “It just doesn’t.” “Okay,” she said. “I mean, I’d like to know who did this to you, but if you’re not gonna tell me, then, fine. Can you tell me why?” Gerard watched her for a moment as he thought about this. “It’s just,” she finished cleaning up his hands. “You’ve been getting into a few more scuffles recently, and I’m getting a little worried about you.” “I…” He waited until she let go of one of his hands so he could lift her chin. “I’m alright. I promise.” Shelly gave him the biggest “bitch, please” look and he laughed softly, letting go of her chin. “Oh, really?” She focused on dabbing tiny amounts of cream on the few scuffs on his knuckles. “Then why are you fighting?” Gerard nibbled his bottom lip, trying really hard to figure out what to say. When he didn’t say anything she looked up at him and tilted her head. “Because,” Shelly continued. “They’re increasing in frequency and in severity. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that. In fact,” she moved out from standing between his legs to put her things away. “I bet that’s why you didn’t want Mikey to get me for this one, because this is the worst yet.” He watched her tuck the pouch back into her bag before she turned to face him again. “Gerard, what’s going on?” “I…” He sighed, shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose gently. “It doesn’t matter.” “Bullshit.” Shelly crossed her arms over her chest. He looked up at her as his eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” she rolled her eyes. “You don’t fight Gerard. Not with your fists anyway.” He looked at her and his frown softened at the concern on her face. “Are you in trouble?” She asked quietly. “Are you being picked on?” “I…” He blinked rapidly for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not that at all.” “Then why are you fighting? It’s not like you.” She frowned at him. “What’re they saying that’s getting you so riled up?” Gerard shook his head and pulled his phone out of his bag. He was grateful that he’d had the foresight to put it in there earlier, before he’d gotten into that fight. If it had been in his pocket or something, then it probably would’ve been smashed by now. Shelly watched him messing around on his phone, his hair falling over his face again. This just made her roll her eyes gently and shake her head; he could probably do with a haircut, and she’d probably badger him a little about it… If she didn’t like it so much. “Hmm,” she started thinking out loud. “Well, it clearly wasn’t something they said about you, because you ignore those sorts of comments so much better now…” He glanced up at her for a moment before looking back down at his phone. “So I doubt it was anything about you or your grades or your work in general...” Shelly tilted her head as she watched him, trying to read him to figure it out faster, but he wasn’t being very helpful in that respect. “That must mean that they said something about someone you care about. I doubt it was about your mom or grandma. It might've been about Mikey.” Gerard just hummed, now very aware of the fact that she was watching him carefully. “But,” she continued. “I think maybe if it had been about Mikey, he’d be here telling you off right now. We both know he can stand up for himself, and that he doesn’t actually get picked on that much anymore.” She grinned a little. “It kinda feels like he knows a few people in every clique, y’know? Like knowing a little of everything.” “Hmn,” Gerard chuckled. “He has some kinda magic, I think.” “Ah, so it wasn’t about Mikey.” The slightly older boy sighed. “No. No, it wasn’t about Mikey.” “Okay,” she moved to sit in the chair in front of him. “So, who?” Gerard looked at her, frowning and wondering why she hadn’t worked it out yet. Unless she actually had and just wanted to hear it from him? But if she hadn’t worked it out… How? How could she not know? She said herself that someone must’ve said something about someone that he cared about. He cared about her. She knew that. Or at least, he thought that she knew that. “Well,” he said eventually. “It was something about someone I care about… Every scuffle I’ve been in recently has been because they won’t stop saying things about this person…” “They keep talking about the same person?” Shelly tilted her head, watching him nod. “And I guess that the comments are getting worse, which is why the fights are getting worse?” Gerard nodded again, his hands clenching into fists as he remembered the comments that he’d heard earlier. “Yeah. Yeah, they’re getting worse.” Shelly leant her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. “And you’re getting into fights defending them?” He nodded and hugged himself with one arm, pressing his hand gently against where he knew he was going to have a bruise or two on his ribs. “Or at least, I’m trying to defend them… I don't know if I’m doing a very good job.” “The fact that you’re doing it at all is admirable,” she looked up at him. “But I don’t know if they’d want you getting hurt defending them.” Gerard sighed and checked the time. “We should probably gather our stuff and leave.” Shelly leant forward and checked his phone screen when he showed her. “You did have a study period this afternoon, didn’t you? You didn’t skip class as well?” “I had a study period,” he said with a nod. “I promise I didn’t skip an actual class. I am really sorry I interrupted your practising.” “It’s alright, I was only doing instrument maintenance when Mikey showed up anyway.” “But still, I know your music is important to you.” Shelly stood and took a few steps closer to him, hesitating for a moment before closing the gap and hugging him. For some reason, he felt surprised, even though that seemed dumb because she hugged him a lot. He wrapped an arm around her waist anyway and leant his chin on her shoulder. It was a short and tight hug but he appreciated and enjoyed it anyway. “Yeah, it is,” she squeezed him a little. “But so are you.” Gerard knew that he was blushing, he could feel it. He hummed near her ear and held her a little tighter for a moment or two before she pulled back a little, her hands still on him. “You okay?” She asked. “You’re not hurting?” He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Not currently, no.” The blonde frowned and gently brushed his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m sure. It probably won’t start to hurt until later anyway,” he shrugged before catching the look on her face. “Shell, I’m fine, I promise.” “You know I don’t believe you.” “I know,” he grinned at her for a moment before clearing his throat. “Um, so, you wanna come over?” Shelly tilted her head. “I’d have to go to my locker first but sure I would.” “Great!” His eyes widened when he realised how enthusiastic he sounded. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d been to his place. He swallowed and hopped off of the desk. “Maybe I can distract whoever’s home so you can go and change your trousers,” she said with a small smile as she shouldered her bag. “Beautiful, smart and willing to be my partner in crime?” Gerard grabbed her instrument case for her. “Ugh, how lucky am I to have you as a friend?” Shelly just giggled and they made their way to her locker so she could drop off or gather some books and grab her jacket, which he helped her into, earning a soft giggle from her. “Do we need to go to your locker?” She asked as she untucked her braid and put her bag back on. “Uh, yeah, unfortunately,” Gerard smiled apologetically before leading the way. “Oh, psh, it’s not far. I don’t mind.” She trotted along beside him, carrying her violin case. “If you’re sure,” he said, walking alongside her. “Absolutely.” It only took another few minutes before Gerard was opening his locker and sorting his stuff out. Shelly waited patiently, leaning against the locker behind him, which he was actually grateful about because it meant that she didn’t see the note that someone had slid in between the vents. Gerard scooped it into his bag to bin later on and shut his locker not long after. “Ready?” She asked. Gerard nodded and they made their way out of the school and to the car park. They put their bags in the trunk, along with her violin, which he secured between their bags and the side of the car because he knew how much it meant to her. He then opened the passenger side door for the blonde who giggled and thanked him. Once he was in the driver’s seat he glanced at her to see her already going through his cds. He chuckled and fastened his seatbelt with a shake of his head. “If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for, it’s in the stereo already.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her blush. Probably just because he’d called her out, not for any other reason. He waited until she’d turned the stereo on and she waited to see what track he’d been listening to last - he half expected her to skip it, or go back to the beginning of the cd or something, but she nodded and settled back in her seat. More than happy to let her take control of the music while he was driving, Gerard started up the car and patted the dashboard affectionately before driving back to his place. “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone home already,” Gerard said as he helped Shelly out of the car before going to get their bags. Shelly took her bag and case from him with a small smile. She never asked him to help her out of the car like that, he just did it. Much like the fact that he always held doors open for her. He was so very sweet and she couldn’t figure out why anyone would have a problem with him. “I’m not sure though,” he continued. She followed him inside, closing the front door and staying by it while Gerard called out to see if anyone was home. They wouldn’t mind either way, it wasn’t like she hadn’t met his family before; she was quite taken with them, really. Gerard returned from checking the house and gestured for her to follow him, which she did. She took her shoes off after stepping inside his bedroom, leaving them in the usual spot by the door with her bag and violin case before padding across the carpet and sitting on the edge of his bed, unaware that he was watching her. He seemed to realise this before she did, because he shook his head, cleared his throat and put his bag on his bed. “I’m just gonna go and change, okay? At least get my shirt in the wash as soon as possible.” “You could say it’s paint if your mom asks?” She suggested, swinging her feet slowly. “I hadn’t even thought about what I was gonna tell her,” Gerard confessed with a small smile. “I love that you’re thinking ahead.” “Someone’s got to,” Shelly giggled. “Are you gonna hide your trousers until you can speak to Elena?” “I’m gonna have to.” Gerard nodded, his heart swelling a little bit when she mentioned his grandmother. Although, to be honest, it did that whenever she spoke about his family. Even more so when she was in his house, looking like she belonged there. “Go and change,” the blonde waved him off gently. “Yes, ma’am.” “Don’t make me find something to throw at you!” Gerard laughed and went to change, throwing his shirt in with the laundry before taking his trousers back to his room. Shelly wasn’t on the bed where he’d left her; her blazer was though. She was looking at some of the sketches he’d recently pinned to the wall near his desk. She had her hands behind her back and he thought that she was rocking backwards and forwards on her feet a little. He had a feeling that if he was able to get a little closer without her noticing, that he’d be able to hear her humming too. “I quite like this one,” she said, gesturing to one. He frowned, unable to remember which one was pinned where, so he dropped his trousers on the bed on his way over to stand next to her. When he was close enough, he took another look at the drawing she’d gestured towards. “Oh, yeah, I call them the Demolition Lovers.” Shelly glanced at him. “I’m guessing that there’s a story behind them, and it explains why they’re covered in blood?” “Of course, there’s a story.” “Good,” the blonde smiled. “It’s not yours unless there’s a story.” Gerard stared at her as she turned to go and sit back on his bed. It took him another minute or so for his brain to start working again and when it did, he followed her so he could look through his bag. “Careful,” he said quietly. “Keep saying things like that and I might start to think that you like my stories.” “You should think that, because I do,” Shelly watched him looking through his bag with a frown on her face and her head tilted. “I thought you knew that?” Gerard swallowed and shook his head slowly, pulling a notebook and a sketchbook out of his bag. “I… I’m not sure sometimes.” “Oh, Gee…” Shelly sighed. He looked up at the nickname and smiled a little. The fact that she was calling him that again hopefully meant that she wasn’t going to push him too much more about who he was standing up for. Plus, he liked it when she called him that. “I don’t know what you have to be unsure about,” she continued quietly, watching him put his bag on the floor and flick through his notebook. “You know I like listening to you talk.” “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Well, sometimes I wonder if you’re doing it just to be polite…” Shelly was about to reply when a slip of paper fell out of the notebook pages, fluttering onto the bed between them. It landed face down but you could still almost read it because of the ghosting of the ink on the opposite side. Gerard froze, briefly wondering if they’d used a bloody Sharpie and then was only able to watch as Shelly eyed it, tilted her head and looked back up at him. “Are you getting love notes Gerard?” She teased lightly, her hand darting across the bed to grab it before Gerard could even blink. “Is that what this is?” “Wait, that’s not!” He dropped his notebook and tried to grab it back, but she’d already flipped it over and read it. The look on her face hurt him more than any of the kicks and punches had done. “You know that’s not my handwriting, right?” He said softly. Shelly nodded quickly, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look up at him. “I…” Gerard swallowed. “I have nothing to do with those.” “Those?” She whispered. “There’s more than one?” He swore under his breath; he didn’t mean to say that. “Let me see them.” “Shelly, no.” He looked up to see her focused on the one in her lap. “You don’t want to do that.” “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.” Shelly looked up at him to see him chewing his lip. “How many are there?” Gerard shook his head and reached for his sketchbook, aware that her eyes were on him the whole time. He swallowed and opened it, straight to the pocket in the back cover. “I see,” she said quietly as he gently pried the pocket open and turned his sketchbook upside down, letting the notes slide out. “You stored them in there because you know full well that I would never go through your sketchbooks without permission.” He nodded a little, his voice giving out as he started to speak. “Y- yeah, kinda.” She sighed and gave him a chance to gather the pieces of paper before she took them from him. “It’s… It’s not a bad thing!” Gerard said quickly. “You’re so respectful of my art, of my privacy and insecurity regarding that...” He swallowed. “I really appreciate that, honestly I do and I…” Shelly looked up from the notes as his voice cracked. “I… I really didn’t want you to see these,” he whispered, watching her return to look through the notes, shuffling through them. “Why did you keep them?” She asked after another few minutes. “I… I think I was going to take them to a teacher?” Gerard frowned. “Especially if I was pulled into someone’s office for fighting.” Shelly frowned, his words taking a moment to register before she looked up a little too fast. “F- fighting?” Gerard watched her eyes widen as she put it all together. “They’ve been using me to get to you,” she said quietly. “Maybe? Two birds, one stone I guess,” he said sadly. The blonde hummed a little to let him know that she’d heard him, but she was flipping through the notes again. Gerard watched her for a moment, more focused on her face than anything else. “I never planned on letting you know,” he said softly. He swallowed when she looked up and locked eyes with him. “About why I was getting into fights, or about those notes…” “Oh… Gerard…” Shelly put the small stack of notes aside before gently taking away his sketchbook. He blinked rapidly at her as she did this, but ultimately let her. She moved across his bed until she was sitting in front of him, and he looked up at her. “C’mere,” she whispered, gesturing for him to move closer. Gerard did as he was told, shifting nearer to her. As soon as he was close enough, she pulled him against her in a secure hug, which he reciprocated, winding his arms around her and leaning his chin on her shoulder. Once she was sure that he was comfortable, she hugged him a bit tighter, and a few minutes passed before he heard her clear her throat gently. “You were fighting for me, weren’t you?” She whispered, feeling him nod before he turned his head to rest his cheek against her shoulder. “I- I just wanted to protect you,” he mumbled after another minute. “Oh Gerard,” she sighed. “This is so unlike you, you don’t normally fight with your fists.” “I know,” he held her a little tighter. “But, well… You saw the notes. I can’t not react when they start saying that kinda stuff when I walk by.” Shelly tutted slightly. “Let them talk, honey. I don’t care.” “It’s not right though!” Gerard sat up, removing himself from her shoulder. “That sort of thing really isn’t any of their business.” The blonde shushed him softly. “It’s alright Gee. They don’t know anything; they’re just making assumptions using what they know about where I’m from. It’s okay. I honestly don’t care.” Gerard huffed slightly and shifted around on the bed to sit on the edge of it. “It’s still not right though Shell. They have no right to say stuff like that, about anyone. It’s gross.” Shelly moved so she was sitting next to him; they both were sitting on the edge of the bed now. She leant her head on his shoulder and took his hand. She smiled just a little when she heard him grumble again. “Gee,” she said quietly. “You don’t believe any of it, do you?” “Of course I don’t,” his reply was instant and fierce. “That’s why I’m so angry. I know it’s not true, and I hate that they’re saying this bullshit about you. That they might be spreading it around. I mean, what did you ever do to them? It’s not like you’re mean to anyone, you’re the sweetest person I know.” Shelly listened to him, resting her chin on her hand, her elbow on her knee. When he finished, she stood up, moving to stand in front of him. She smiled down at him. “Hi,” she whispered. “Hi.” Gerard looked up at her, confused. “Take off your shirt.” Gerard would’ve spat out his drink had he had one. “Um! Excuse me?” “You heard me,” her voice was quiet and soft, gentle. “You said that they kicked you.” He shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the bed. “I’m fine.” “Nope, you said that you might end up bruised, and I wanna check.” They partook in a little back and forth for a few minutes - Shelly trying to gently convince him, and Gerard digging his heels in. Anyone else might’ve accused him of being stubborn, but Shelly had the feeling that he was just being a bit shy. After one last ‘round’ of this back and forth, Shelly rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle shove. This took him by surprise and he fell into his back. “C’mon Gee,” the blonde said, shifting so she was kneeling next to him, gently tugging at the t-shirt covering his belly. “Let me see.” Her gentle grabbing of his t-shirt ended up tickling him and he squirmed beside her, letting out a short burst of laughter. Shelly glanced down at him, her soft smile turning into a grin. “Aha,” she murmured. “I see.” “No, no no!” She started tickling him gently, making him squirm and wriggle more and more. He could hear her giggling as she tickled him. “This is not fair,” he managed to get out eventually when she slowed down her tickling. By the time she stopped, he was panting a little. And looking straight up at her. He blinked up at her and it took him a tiny bit longer before he realised that she was sitting on him and was essentially pinning him down. “Um…” She blinked down at him in return. “Just… Just let me see?” Gerard swallowed and hesitated a little. “You know I’m not gonna tease you,” she said softly, leaning forward a tiny bit to brush his hair off of his face. “If that’s what you’re worried about.” He wasn’t worried about that, not right at that exact moment. If anything, he was wishing that their school allowed girls to wear pants. But only to an extent, because she did look so good in the uniform skirt. “You actually don’t need to take it off completely,” she said quietly. “You just need to lift it enough for me to see.” “I… Um,” He swallowed. “Oh! Idea!” Shelly moved off of him and resumed sitting beside him. “If you turn your back to me, I can lift your shirt enough to see your side, but nothing else.” Gerard was… Only sort of pleased that she’d moved. Truthfully, he was a little disappointed. He thought about her suggestion before nodding once. “Okay. That sounds fair…” Shelly waited patiently as he turned onto his side with his back to her, and he pulled his t-shirt up enough for her to look at his side. He was kinda glad that he wasn’t able to see her face, because the sound she made hurt him enough. It was almost like a quiet whine. “Gee! Gee, have you seen this? If it was any worse I’d be able to see the markings from the sole of their shoe!” “That’s probably more visible on my shirt though,” he mumbled. “And nothing’s broken, so I’ll be fine.” Shelly was silent for a moment before he felt her fingers on her skin. “Sorry darling,” she said quietly as he jumped. “Did I hurt you?” “N- no. Just took me by surprise.” “Does it hurt?” She asked, carefully palpitating the skin. “Am I hurting you?” “You’re not hurting me,” he murmured. “It aches a little but you’re not making it worse or anything. If anything it tickles a bit, but in a nice way.” Shelly giggled softly and had one more, closer look at him before pulling his t-shirt back down. Gerard felt her doing this and stayed still, only to feel her lying down behind him not long later, and soon after that, he felt her arms around him and her head against his shoulder. “Oh.” “You bloody idiot,” she mumbled. “Why are you doing this for me? You don’t fight.” “You’re my friend Shell,” Gerard hesitated for a moment before resting a hand over hers around him. “I’m gonna stick up for you.” “But not with your fists,” she leant her chin on his shoulder instead of her forehead. “That’s not like you. And it’s not like I knew it was going on.” “What, like I’m just going to listen to them calling you things like that and not react?” He snorted a little. “Give over Shell, you know I can’t do that.” “You should.” He snorted again and felt the bed move as she sat up. “Sit up? Please?” Geard blinked rapidly at her request but did as he was told. When he had sat up, she shifted to hug him tightly and he ended up with her under his chin. “You need to stop,” she mumbled as she settled against his chest. “You’re gonna get really, really hurt and I don’t want to see you like that. Or expelled or something, you know?” He hummed into her hair. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for anything, because you were standing up for me,” she mumbled before shifting back a little so she could look up at him. “I appreciate it, Gee, I do, but I don’t want you to get hurt any more.” “I can’t let them get away with saying those things though.” “But reacting to them gives them what they want. You know that right?” “I…” He sighed. “I guess.” Shelly cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. “Think of it as doing something else for me, okay? Think of it as protecting my favourite person.” “I… Oh?” Gerard looked at her and he was sure that he had a dumb, confused expression on his face. “I… That's me?” Shelly giggled and nodded, cupping the other side of his face in her other hand before gently squeezing his cheeks. “Yeah, Gerard, that’s you.” “Oh.” He swore his heart sped up a little at that. “Of course that’s you,” she murmured. “Silly boy. You gonna look after yourself for me? Not get into any more fights?” He nodded. “I’ll… I’ll try.” “Close enough.” Shelly squeezed his cheeks gently again. “Look, the most important thing is that you don’t believe what they’re saying, okay?” She smiled when he nodded in her hands. “The only person’s opinion that I care about is yours. No-one else’s, just yours. Alright?” Gerard nodded again and watched her smile brightly before she dropped her hands to her lap. “O- okay.” Shelly nodded once and looked him over for a moment. The expression on her face was that of someone who clearly wanted to say something, but was unsure about it. “You alright?” He asked quietly. She nibbled her bottom lip as she thought about it and then proceeded to shake her head. “I… It’s gone, it doesn’t matter. It’ll come back if it’s important.” “Everything you say is important,” he mumbled, his eyes so focused on his lap that he didn’t see her smile, and more importantly, he didn’t see her blush. “So, it’ll come back.” “Nonsense,” she muttered bashfully. “Utter nonsense.” “Nope, not nonsense. It’s true.” Gerard looked up at her and smiled a little as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmn. We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, pretty boy.” Gerard felt himself blush and averted his eyes. He heard her giggle though. “You were trying to find that story for me?” Shelly said softly. “The one about the Lovers?” It took him a full two minutes to remember that she was referring to his drawing, and not… Anything else. Thank god he remembered as fast as he did, otherwise he might’ve ended up sharing something else. “Oh! Yes, right, give me a minute.”

#She Speaks #She Writes #fan fic #my writing #Gerard Way x OC

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Writer (part4)

Warnings - Angst

Request? Yep

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You woke alone - checking the clock on the dressing table you darted out of bed. 6:45am, Tommy said his driver would be taking you home at 7. You rushed as quickly as your sore thighs would allow you back to your bedroom so no one spotted you run across the landing completely naked.

Pulling your clothes on, gathering your notepads and stuffing them in the small bag you had brought, you turned and nearly jumped out of your skin as a young woman of maybe 22/23 stood in the doorway. You vaguely recognised her as one of the maids who made your tea the night before. She had a strange look in her eyes that made you feel uneasy.

"I believe Mr Shelby has arranged a car for me this morning?" You asked, ignoring her gaze.

"He has. It's outside. He gave me this to pass onto you." She smiled wryly, handing you the envelope. You thanked her, and left the room heading down to the waiting car.

You opened the envelope once you were en route. Two £1 notes fell out, alongside a letter. Your heart froze in your chest as you read it, feeling like a complete fool.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Since you enjoyed being treated as a two-bob whore, I suppose it's only fitting I pay you for your services.

The article can proceed, but I'd prefer if someone with more professionalism could attend next time.

Yours,

T. Shelby

The tears were falling from your eyes as you pulled up outside your apartment. How could you have been so stupid... A millionaire like him shacking up with you? A penniless widow with more debt than you cared to admit to.. trying to make a name for yourself in a man's world. He clearly thought you were nothing more than a whore. You left the money on the back seat and exited the car, your heart shattered as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

************************************************************

"So how did it go?" David asked as you sat opposite him in his office an hour later.

"Honestly? The interview was difficult. He wouldn't reveal much about himself."

"Laura said you didn't come home last night." Laura was your roommate, she was also dating David. You should have known she'd tell him. He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking.

"The storm." You voice caught in your throat, emotions threatening to spill over. David quickly stood and closed the office door, kneeling in front of you.

"What happened Y/n? Come on, don't cry..." You fell into your big brother's arms and you let yourself cry. The only man you allowed to see you like this. You told him about the night before, in not as much detail, and then the note this morning.

"Fucking asshole... I never should have sent you to him!! This is all my fault... Oh sis I'm so fucking sorry, come here...." He held you tight. "Go home. Run a bath. I'll send Laura over with a bottle of wine. Just get him out of your head. God I sent you right into his filthy little hands didn't I..."

"David this isn't your fault. I wanted it as much as he did okay? He was just so different last night.. he asked me to stay, he put me into his bed, he held me.. then that note. And the money.. the fucking money?! Like a fucking whore!"

"Y/n go home. That's an order. You're not to go back again. I'll send Frank, he can do the article."

"No you won't! This is MY story and I will be the one to tell it! That halfwit doesn't even know which end of the pen to use!"

"He's already demanded someone else, you saw it for yourself. Now go home, I'll let Laura know you're on your way."

************************************************************

It was a week later that you finally felt strong enough to leave the house. Your confidence at an all time low, your heart completely broken, but your cupboards were empty as your soul felt and Laura was away for a few days with family back in Scotland. You had no choice but to face it and go to the store in the next town. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and headed out.

Waiting in line, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A dark haired woman with hard but kind eyes stood behind you.

"Are you Y/n?" She asked. You nodded, before quickly realising who she was.

"Polly Gray?" You gasped, and she nodded, pulling you into a huge hug.

"Oh y/n... It's been so long!! My goodness how you've grown!!!" You hugged her back, she'd always been so kind to you as a child knocking about with John. She was the only member of the family that knew you were close to him.

"Come for a drink! The Garrison is only down the street!" She grinned, as you paid for your groceries. You were about to answer before she linked arms with you and was almost frog marching you down the road. To be honest, you didn't mind. She clearly didn't know about your liaison with her nephew a week earlier, and a drink sounded very appealing.

Sitting in the small side room as she went to the bar, you felt yourself relax. She doesn't know, you won't tell her, it's one drink, no harm done.

"Perks of Arthur owning the pub - Peaky women get served at the bar without question!" She grinned, placing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the table in front of you. So much of one drink....

You both knocked the first one back quickly, before sipping your second a little slower. She enquired about your life up to now, squeezing your hand gently as you told her about Jack and his death. She smiled as you told her about your work, confessing to her your pen name in the Herald which made her howl with laughter.

"They're always my favourite articles in that newspaper!! I always felt they had a woman's touch to them, so well written! If only you could use your own name eh? Bloody men, ruin everything for us women."

"Yes. Yes they do." You eyes glanced out the window and she noticed them misting up slightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, I'm fine. Just being silly."

"There's a man, isn't there? A new man?"

"Pol..."

"And he's hurt you, hasn't he? I'll rip his balls off... Let me guess, fucked you and fucked you off?"

"Pol, it's fine honestly."

"Your eyes tell me it's not fine y/n."

"It was a silly, drunken mistake. On both parts. It won't happen again."

"No one hurts my y/n and gets away with it. Name." Her voice was forceful now. She was angry, you could see it in her eyes.

"Polly please! It was a one night thing that shouldn't have happened in the first place! Just let it go, okay?"

"Y/n, when my daughter was taken away, you were closest thing I had left. I was heartbroken when you moved away. I can't allow some nasty little shit to break your heart after what you've been through!"

Your resolve was breaking, your patience was being tested, and your emotions were about to spill over, when the door to the room opened and your heart stopped.

"Tommy!!! Look who I found in the store down the street!" Polly exclaimed, and his blue eyes met your watery ones. He smiled, you scowled. Polly looked between the two of you, and you could honestly have heard a pin drop. You gathered your shopping up and stood up, still glaring at Tommy who never took his eyes from yours. You scoffed at him, thanked Polly for the drink, and hurried out the room.

"Oh Thomas... Thomas Shelby you have some fucking explaining to do!" You heard Polly shout from behind you but you didn't stick around to hear anymore.

#tommy shelby x smut #tommy x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy x smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

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wickedyan · 3 years

Note

so basically what i was thinking was- FRANK MORRISON PLEAZE💖💖💖🥺

A/n: this is based on the idea of Danny cucking himself from this set of headcanons! Wish I could say this hadn’t plagued my mind until I just had to write it and could not stop writing it until its done. sorry for any spelling errors

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Danny gets cucked by Frank, blood, violence, knife-play but its actually just him threatening you with a knife, use of ‘puppy, dog, mutt’ etc.

You had thought you had done the right thing, you had listened to everything Danny asked of you. You sucked his cock when he asked, screamed when he sliced his knife through untouched skin, cried so prettily when he fucked you with no relief. You had been good, all things considered. So what was even happening. Why was this happening?

His teeth were biting hard at your lips and throat. The leader of Legion was determined to leave his mark on you before your time with him was up. Blood coated his lips and teeth from where you had bitten him. He liked that you fought back.

Danny sat in the corner of the Saloon at Dead Dawg, stroking his cock with languid strokes, head thrown back but eyes watching you through his mask. He knew you were scared, with tears running hot down the sides of your cheeks.

“Fuck, just like that…” Frank groaned into your mouth, hips rolling into yours too fast for your liking. His cock sat heavy against your cervix, thick and grinding against spots that just felt too good, had you clenching around him and whining lowly between your teeth.

His knife bit into the skin of your throat, hot blood dribbled down to the back of your neck, pooling. The other hand held your wrists together above your head. His hips didnt stop but neither did yours. It was one of the reasons why Danny loved you, despite crying and telling him to stop, your body always told the truth. It would never lie to him, even as frank drew circles over your skin with the point of the knife.

“You’d look so pretty with some ink… what’dya say,? I say you get my name over your throat just here.” He dropped the knife, scooping up some drying blood from the scab over your throat and starting on the F.

“Don't forget the rules, Frank.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up his thrusts. It looked like he had an idea, with that evil grin on his face.

“Open your mouth.” he spat.

You shook your head. He pressed the knife down with more force, a scream erupting from your throat. You watched him gather the saliva in his mouth before his bloody, bandaged hand wrenched your jaw open with enough force to knock the back of your head into the floorboards, pulling your mouth apart with a grunt.

And then his saliva hit the back of your throat, overwhelming and choking you. It was hot and virile and tasted of blood and tobacco. His hand forced your jaw shut.

“Now swallow, mutt.” You nodded, grimacing as you forced yourself to swallow. You felt his cock twitch, his eyebrows furrowing, “that’s a good dog you’ve got here.” He tapped your cheek once. You showed him your tongue, proof you had swallowed it all. He chuckled, returning his hand back to your wrists. You hadn't even thought of fighting back, not after the first moment of his knife to your throat.

He paused, moving his hips in different directions, searching. He watches as your eyes widened with a smirk. “Stop it, please.” You could barely utter the words. Fingers flexing and clenching in his grip.

His hands move down, holding you in place and oh god, it's good, it's good and it's hot and wet and his cockl brushes against something that has you biting your lip so hard there's blood to keep any noise in, to stop him from knowing how much you enjoy this but he already knows.

A bandaged hand trails down, brushing over your hip bones and down to where you’re connected and he’s circling your clit with rough fingers. It’s impossible to keep your noises in at this point, not while he’s angling his hips to hit that special spot that has you seeing stars.

“Atta’girl…”

His body sighs, hes pressing down until your chests rest flush together, sensitive nipples brushing against the the leather of his jacket and sending a hot flush down, down and you're pushing up at him but you can’t, not as he hoists your legs up unto his shoulders, pressing you into the floorboards.

The position has his cock sliding even deeper and you can feel him in your gut as he forces your back to arch.

His mouth is next to your ear, heavily breathing as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

Everything he’s doing to you starts to become too much. The rough pads of his fingers on your clit, his thick cock spreading you open. The blood and aches from his knife actually started to feel good. He wouldn’t last much longer, not as he quickened his pace, opting to chase his own pleasure instead of torture you with your own.

As you felt your peak hit, he leaned in close, “Fuck... I’m coming inside.”

You bristled, “No.” You shook your head.

He looked at you with a lazy grin, “You’ll take it like a good dog.”

“Maybe the Entity’ll let you keep it, bitch.”

With that, you felt yourself letting go, cumming around his cock as he bred you like the good dog you were, hands in his hair and thighs hugging his head.

Before you could even bask in the afterglow, Danny was above you, kicking Frank out the way. His head was tilted, silent. Danny liked to tease, to taunt. When he was silent, he was angry.

“That was against the rules, Frank. Maybe you’re the dog, with the way you’re acting like a fucking bitch in heat.” His boot was pressed to Frank’s chest, tossing his knife around in his hand and catching it deftly, showing off his skill.

“I was so kind, sharing my puppy with you, and look what you’ve done... you’ve defiled her.”

Frank spat out nothing but blood after the kick that Danny sent directly into his nose.

There was a pause, and Frank laughed as the fog rolled in. “Looks like I win this time, Danny.” And he was gone, pulled away to a trial.

Danny rolled his eyes with a “tch.” Then he looked down at you, defiled and confused.

“Are you okay?” It was an odd question to come from him, but one you decided to answer.

You nodded a yes, pausing after to watch his reaction.

It was like a switch was flipped and he was back to his usual, bastard self.

“Is my poor puppy hurt?” He asked with a pout, an almost mournful look on his face. You knew better than to trust it. “Did the mean ol’ Legion guy hurt you?” He tilted his head.

You nodded again, the stress of the experience finally hitting you, knowing it was over and you were back with Danny. Hot tears dribbled over your cheeks, you reached your arms out to him, hopeful.

He knelt down to you, enveloping you in his arms, letting your tears and snot soak his overcoat. He would show you this one kindness. You had been so good.

You were his, and he maybe he was glad for it.

#danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #the legion #legion dbd #legion x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #cucking #danny gets CUCKED #consentually

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r0tten-brainz · 3 years

Text

hey do you want my carrie fix it au? no?

too bad!!!

Everything seemed to stop when the blood was dumped on Carrie. All the cheers and applause was cut off by shocked gasps and silence. Wide eyes stared upon the stage at their prom queen, now drenched in red sludge, her beautiful dress ruined.

Tommy Ross, the prom king, was staring at his date, some of the liquid (blood, literal blood, he realizes in horror) splashing all over his rental tuxedo. After the initial shock, anger bubbled in his chest so quickly his ears turned red and he turned to the crowd, searching for who could’ve done something so awful, his shouts of “What the hell?!” cutting through the quiet.

In the front row, George Dawson seemed to have the same reaction, he always was quick to anger but now he had a fair reason to. He was disgusted someone would do this, and almost everyone around him agreed. Almost.

It only took a minute for Norma to snort, and double over to quiet her laughter. A few others chuckled but otherwise they were alone in finding this funny.

The only one who hadn’t moved was Carrie. She was frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. She only moved when the bucket itself came crashing down, right onto Tommy. She tried to catch him but he just collapsed onto the stage, groaning in pain.

People knew immediately something was off when she stood up straight, shoulders back and arms extending out at her sides. The ones who were laughing decided they wanted to leave, the pungent smell of the stale blood getting gross and killing their good time.

There were a few shouts of confusion and fear when the doors suddenly slammed shut and the room was flooded in red light. When one of the jocks tried to open it, he yelled in pain, like the door handle burned him.

That’s what made Tommy stir on the ground, his head aching and warmth trailing down his face. When he looked up the gym was in chaos, people screaming and trampling each other to find a way out. One guy, someone Tommy knew, had climbed up to try the window, but he was flung off like a bug. A squeaking noise made him look up and the fire sprinklers flipped on.

Murky water fell over everyone, only adding to the rotten smell permeating what with the blood also having its own stench. Tommy’s breath caught as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Carrie.

She seemed unresponsive, barely even blinking as the chaos unfolded around her, like she was in the middle, stirring up the misfortune herself.

“Carrie- huff,” Tommy started, pulling himself up off the ground. His head spun and he nearly got sick with everything mixing around him, his stomach was never the strongest. “Carrie, we have to get you out of here.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even look at him, just tilted her chin up indignantly. The lights above them suddenly sparked, clearly not mixing well with the water. That frightened Tommy a lot, they could all die, and it seemed that’s probably what Carrie was aiming for.

“Carrie!” Tommy tried again, grabbing onto her shoulders. His breath was getting more frantic as he looked around behind him. “Carrie, listen to me. Look at me, Carrie.”

She blinked then, eyes focusing on the boy in front of her. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. When she noticed the blood flowing down his face it only made her feel worse.

“Is this why?” Her voice was quiet, if Tommy had been any further away he wouldn’t have been able to hear. “Is this why you asked me to go with you?”

A devastated look crossed over Carrie’s face. “So you could laugh at me?” Tommy gulped, really starting to feel sick now, realizing that in some sick way this was partially his fault. “She was right, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have-”

“No! Carrie, if I knew it wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t know- I swear whoever did this is dead.” He shouted, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “Please, you need to calm down. Just breathe, we can get you out of here.”

Flames caught his eye, the curtain behind them was on fire. They needed to go, now. Carrie sniffled, the tears finally falling. “They all laughed at me, they laughed…”

Tommy looked back at the crowd then back to Carrie. “No one laughed, no one did Carrie.” She let out a breath like she’d been holding it. The heat from the fire was getting unbearable.

“Do you swear?” Carrie whispered, looking up at him. She was in agony, he could see it clear on her face.

“Carrie, I swear.” Tommy holds out his arms for her, finally stepping back to lead her away from the gym. He could hear sirens approaching.

Carrie looked out a final time before the doors swung open and the students flooded out. The air was cool which was relieving to everyone. She took his hands then, and he led her off the stage out to the cool evening air.

Sue Snell pushed her way through everyone, Frank Green (notoriously known as the Beak) and George at her side, searching through the scared faces for Tommy and Carrie. “There they are!” She shouts, grabbing her friends and making their way over to the pair.

Tommy perked up at the sound of Sue’s voice, carefully leading Carrie to the grass so they could sit. Further away from everyone. Sue ran over and pulled Tommy down into a hug. Beak and George made their way over a second after, clearly left behind in the madness behind them.

Whispers were exchanged between the group, everyone sparing sympathetic glances to Carrie every once in a while. Carrie just sunk in on herself, Trying to calm herself down enough so she could walk home, figuring she messed up their night enough.

It surprised her all when they all sat around her, Tommy to her left and Sue on the other side. Beak and George settled across from them.

They didn’t talk, no one really knew what to say. It was Carrie who broke the silence. “I ruined your plans with your friends, didn’t I?”

Tommy just shook his head as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, actually.”

Carrie blinked up at him, tears threatening to fall again but she willed them away and sank into the coat. If it was salvageable before, it’s definitely ruined now. Tommy wondered if the rental place had it in their hearts to cut them some slack.

“Carrie I- we- are so sorry,” Sue spoke up, reaching to hold her hand. “I tried to stop it, if I knew they were planning something I wouldn’t have asked, that was so cruel.” She whispered the end of her apology, like she couldn’t believe it had happened.

Carrie ducks her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” she says back. “Mama was right I shouldn’t have.” The group share worried glances, but they’ll unpack that later.

George sneers. “Don’t you think like that, it was fun at the beginning right?” Carrie glances up to him and nods. “Right! Don’t you worry, whoever did this will pay.” Frank nods along beside him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. “So inspiring.” Beak always did like to make a joke, to lighten the mood when things were heavy.

Tommy’s arm tucks around her, pulling Carrie closer to comfort her. “Even if it all ended bad, we’re all together, right?” He looked down to her, waiting for the response. Even now he’s pushing her gently, to get her out there. Maybe this is Tommy’s super power. She had telekinesis and he was good at making anyone comfortable, even Carrie White.

“Right,” she finished for him, which made Tommy smile. In return it made Carrie smile. Sue reached and brushed some bloody hair out of Carrie’s face.

“Wow, Sue,” Beak starts. “Before too long Carrie might steal Tommy from you curled up to him like that. Sue laughed and Carrie smiled, cheeks flushing red under the caked up blood.

Tommy grinned and shot him a look. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you beat her to it and steal me yourself, smart guy?”

Beak opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by George. “Oi! Don’t be comin’ onto my man y’ hear?” He shot back, elbowing Frank with a grin.

Tommy felt Carrie’s shoulders bouncing, but when he looked to her to see if she was crying, a small grin graced her face and quiet giggles bubbled up. Despite it all she was laughing. It made something twist in Tommy’s chest, he had to make himself look away.

“It isn’t much,” Sue starts. “But if you all wanted to stop by my house to get cleaned up, maybe we could still go to the Hive.” Carrie perks up, of course Sue was invited, why wouldn’t she be?

George whooped excitedly. “You’re a lifesaver, Susan, I really need a shake after all this.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

“Carrie?” Tommy said quietly. She looked up to him, still smiling a little. “Would that be okay?” He was so patient with her.

Commotion caught her attention though and she looked past Tommy towards the gym. The flames had been dealt with it’d seem, but that’s not what she’s looking at.

Two police officers were taking Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan out of the school, Chris kicking and shouting the whole way to the car. Miss Collins watched them go, nothing but anger in her eyes. It only made Carrie’s smile widen. She hoped she’d never have to see Chris ever again after this.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “That seems fun.” Tommy grinned and stood, offering his hands to Carrie first to help her stand, then to Sue. “No help for me?” Frank joked. “Shut up, Beak,” Tommy joked back.

The rest of the night was filled with similar jokes, everything being kept lighthearted (lucky for Carrie, she may fall apart if anything else bad happened). The Hive was so much better than she imagined. They had delicious waffle fries, and soda flavors she didn’t know existed, she and Sue even shared an ice cream. Everything was perfect. She prayed to God that come Monday morning she wouldn’t be forgotten by Tommy Ross, or any of them.

#carrie 1976 #carrie white #tommy ross #sue snell #george dawson #frank green #the beak #fic #au #fix it fic

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 3 years

Text

Ray Toro x Reader - Deadline - Part Two

Request: Ooh what about a part 2 for Deadline where Mikey doesn't know that they confessed and he goes to Ray and tells him and they just play along thxx

Summary: Mikey still plans to tell Ray you’re in love with him, not knowing Ray and you are already together

Word count: 1 276

Part One

Maybe it was mean. Maybe Mikey did not deserve it. But then again maybe he did. If he had not tried pressuring you into telling Ray how you felt about him, you might have told him about the turn of events, of how you had accidentally confessed your feelings for the guitarist, how you had kissed while watching the sunset. But because Mikey had teased you, you did not tell him. But you told Ray about what Mikey had been up to, and Ray being Ray, came up with a plan on the spot.

As much as it pained both of you not to be able to finally kiss and hug whenever you wanted, you decided you should wait until the following evening before revealing the newest development. After all, that evening Mikey’s deadline was running out, and if he really planned on telling Ray how you felt for him, that would be incredible amusing.

Sure enough you all had dropped down in the dressing room after the show was over, sweaty and exhausted, when Mikey shot you a devilish glance. Oh how much you wanted to hate him, but at the same time you knew that it was him he was going embarrass.

“So, (y/n),” he spoke up, speaking a little louder than he would have done usually to get everyone’s attention. Luckily nobody other than the five band members were present. “How’ve you been?”

“Dude, we’ve been spending the past three months on super tight space, you know how I’ve been doing,” you rolled your eyes, knowing he was simply searching for a way into the conversation.

“How’s that thing going?”

“What thing,” Frank turned around from where he had changed into a fresh shirt, eyeing you curiously, “are you working on that drum-solo again? Man, I sure hope you do, because it’s about fucking time you finally get one.”

“As a matter of fact, I have, Frank,” you grinned, shooting Mikey a smug grin. “I’m almost finished, maybe two more days? And then I could play it to you guys, to get your opinion.”

“You’re the drummer, (y/n). If you think it’s good enough, then it’s probably better than that,” Frank grinned. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Maybe you should play it to Ray first,” Mikey suggested, earning raised eyebrows from you, “you know, he’s a good drummer too. You two might want some alone time.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s much I could help (y/n) with,” Ray laughed, knowing as well as you did, what Mikey was planning, “they’re a bloody brilliant drummer.”

“But maybe (y/n) would like to get some help from you, Ray,” Mikey teased, sending you a huge grin.

“Mikey, stop it,” you warned.

“Stop what?” Now even Gerard had noticed the increasingly weird conversation.

“Isn’t there something you’d like to tell –“

“Don’t make a fool out of yourself, Mikes,” you reminded him, but he only grinned wider.

“Ray, what would you say if I told you that (y/n) would like to… get to know you a little better?”

You could feel Ray’s side glance on you, before he spoke, and you had to try really hard to hold in your laughter.

“Get to know me better,” he asked innocently while putting down a water bottle he had been drinking from, “I think we already know each other pretty well, to be honest.”

“Yeah, but only as friends,” Mikey argued.

“Wait a sec,” Frank jumped up, wide eyed, “are you saying-“ he pointed between you and Ray

Mikey just shrugged.

“I knew it,” Frank cheered, “I knew (y/n) had a thing for Ray!”

“Wow, okay, calm down, Frank,” you rolled your eyes. How many times had you done that today already?

“What-? What are you saying,” Gerard asked, stepping closer.

“Just that maybe (y/n) likes Ray more than just as a friend, or band mate,” Mikey giggled.

“You sound like a twelve year old who just found out their friend has a crush,” you mumbled, and even though you knew that what Mikey so enthusiastically announced was no news to Ray, you could feel a blush burn in your cheeks.

“Well, I sure hope they do,” Ray shrugged carelessly, “otherwise me telling them that I love ‘em yesterday would have been very embarrassing.”

Ray’s casual statement had the hoped for effect. For a few seconds there was absolute silence in the changing room. The Mikey, Frank and Gerard all started talking at once.

“Oh, this is some good shit right there guys,” Frank laughed, “ha, I can’t fucking believe you just told him his lover loves him. Oh my god, Mikey!”

“When did that happen? Why didn’t I know of this? How come Mikey knew, but I didn’t? Am I that bad at keeping secrets? Hey, since when are you two a thing? You’re my best friend, Ray, how could you not tell me,” Gerard whined.

But shouting over both Frank and Gerard was Mikey.

“You already knew? What the hell? Were you just playing me,” he asked, gesturing wildly between Ray and you, “all this time I was trying to set you up, and you don’t even tell me once you’re actually together? How can you be so cruel? I just want you two to be happy and you-“

“That’s what you get for blackmailing me,” you laughed, “serves you right!”

“They do have a point, Mikey,” Gerard agreed. “You can’t just tell someone somebody likes them! What if they don’t feel the same! What if you would have embarrassed (y/n)!”

“Well, I knew I wouldn’t embarrass them, at least not for long,” Mikey defended, “because actually-“

“Actually I had already told him that I like (y/n),” Ray explained, “so from that perspective it was all fail safe.”

For a moment there was silence again.

“So in other words, Ray and (y/n) are dating now,” Frank concluded, and shrugged. “I can live with that.”

“Good to know you won’t drop dead now,” you joked, and Frank sent a mocking air kiss your way.

“So…” Gerard looked into everyone’s faces before turning to Ray and you, “congratulations or something?”

You laughed and Ray was about to reply something equally stupid when Frank interrupted him.

“Yeah yeah, rainbows and pink fluffy clouds and all that, but I’m hungry can we go out for dinner?”

Ray turned to you and shook his head before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Such a romantic, isn’t he,” he joked, making you giggle.

“But he’s right, I’m starving too,” you admitted.

“So am I,” Mikey pipped in, “but actually I might just need a distraction from this embarrassment. You’re already together, oh man.”

“Dinner it is then,” Gerard agreed.

Frank cheered quietly, and one after the other left the changing room, until only Ray and you were left. When you were about to leave as well, Ray grabbed your wrist and held you back.

“Happy with your revenge,” he asked quietly, a soft smile on his lips.

“Very,” you agreed and smiled back. “but even happier about being able to do this.”

And with that you got on your tip toes and gently kissed Ray, making him smile. He was pulled you closer and was about to wrap you in a hug, when Frank suddenly shouted for you to come.

Unwillingly Ray pulled away from you.

“One of these days we might be able to kiss without being constantly interrupted,” he joked, taking your hand in his, just like he had done the day prior.

“While being on tour with those three idiots?” you asked, following him as he led you out of the changing room and down a corridor, “Keep dreaming.”

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know; crossed out are blogs i cannot tag anymore):

General: @alexstyx @recommendedattheprice @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @vamp-void @angelevansfalls

MCR: @deadlovers

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raj-veerapen · 2 years

Photo

Operation: Parent Trap

Setting: Supply Closet, Celeste and Thomas’ Wedding Venue Time: Sometime during the reception Featuring: Raj and Xavier @xaviernottheprofessor

"I really don't see the mop in here, Cel...I---" Xavier's words were cut off the moment the door was closed behind him and when he tried to reopen it, it had been locked. "Hey! Cel! I think this thing locks on its own. Shit. It's probably a fire door or something." Celeste had tried to get him to help clean up a mess in the lobby area that would have been dangerous for the other guests and asked him to check the supply closet. Thinking the bride was right behind him, Xavier had been chatting only to realize he was talking to himself. He pulled out his phone and decided to text Luna. She'd get him out. When a few mins had passed and he got no response, Xavier sighed and decided to crouch and sit on the floor, mindful to keep his suit in check. When he heard the door opening, he perked up. "Oh thank God...you got my text message--oh." He swallowed the lump that had quickly formed in his throat when Raj appeared and as the other man let go of the door, Xavier stood up, yelling. "No no crap! Shite." He reached behind Raj, not realizing right away just how close he was to him and then cleared his throat, taking a step back to create some space in between them. "It locks."

"Frankie, I really don't think that they're going to have something that will clean that stain..." Raj said as he went into the closet, freezing as he realized he was face to face with Xavier. For a moment he thought that the swearing was at him, and his already bad mood seemed to get worse for a moment before Raj realized that Xavier was in fact talking about the doorand he realized mistake as he heard the door lock. It took a second, to get used to how close Xavier was and for a moment his heart leapt. Raj missed him, more than he even knew how to express. But between the news sites and then Xavier showing up to the wedding with the man from the pictures, clearly he was moving on faster than Raj was. "You know, I'm surprised they locked us in here, considering that you've been perfectly happy rubbing your date in my face all night, I would have assumed everyone else would have gotten the hint."

After stepping to the side, Xavier approached the door once more, this time actively avoiding eye contact with Raj. He continued to turn the knob and then knocked on the door in case someone else was out there. "Franks? It's Xavier. If you're there, can you ...can you please unlock the door?" When he heard nothing, Xavier pressed his forehead against the metal, rolling his eyes at Raj's words. "What date, mate? I didn't bring no date!" He turned, crossing his arms at his chest. "Though that's bloody hilarious considering this is the first set of words I hear from your mouth in almost two months. I haven't been rubbing anything in your face, Raj. What the hell are you going on about?"

"Really, you don't need to deny it I'm not fucking blind," Raj snapped, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the shelves. "All of last week there's been these pictures and reports that you've been moving on, and like I know how the media is at this point so I wasn't really believing it until I get here and there you are with the exact same guy. Like if you're dating someone else, fine. It's just....fine," he said, the word coming out angrier the second time, "I just don't want to see it."

"Wait. Hold on. Henry? You think I'm dating Henry? I mean, listen believe what you want to believe but we're not dating. We're friends and the media needs some new story to spin but that's not important. Why does it matter? Why do you care? I've tried to reach out to you several times and you've ghosted me like I never existed, like we never happened and you think it's okay to reprimand me for me something that isn't even true. No hi, Xavier, how's it going? Hi, Xavier, are those things true? Hi, Xavier, having fun. Or just fucking plain hi, Xavier? No? None of that came to mind?" Xavier took a deep breath, allowing his gaze to finally focus on his ex, taking in the fact that he hasn't really gained much weight since they arrived from the island. "Like, what do you want from me?"

"Of course I care, that's why I've avoided you!" Raj exclaimed, knowing that it made no sense. His therapist had told him that plenty of times. "Like all of the small talk stuff, it just feels like so trivial that doing it was like a slap in the face. Like trying to act like our entire fucking relationship didn't happen and I just couldn't do that. And just not saying anything just.....at least that way you'd know I was hurt too." Sliding down the rack, Raj sat down on the floor sighing as he rested his head against the shelf. "I don't know," he finally admitted at the last question.

He was going to be strong. Xavier had gone through scenarios in his head and with his therapist and they both agreed if this ever came into play, he'd have to be strong. "We're back at trivial. Do you realize that? Not talking to me...we have to restart. Somewhere. If you want to be my friend, or just be civil for the sake of not forgetting our relationship existed as you said, that's how we get back to any sort of groove. Ignoring me, and avoiding my text messages really just puts the last nail on the coffin. Do you realize that? I didn't get that. I didn't get that you were hurt. I got that you were done with me." He remained in his spot but slid down as well to sit on the ground. "You don't...you don't have to answer that now. You don't have to answer anything, really. Just don't come in here and be mad over Henry when we never resolved anything." Xavier sighed and looked over to Raj. "Hi, Raj."

"I get it now, it just made sense at the time," Raj groaned, though really everything just made him feel worse. Apparently there was no right answers and everything that he did was wrong and he could just feel the tears starting to form behind his eyes only to fall at the simple Hi, Raj that came from Xavier. "I miss you, and your jokes, and waking up next to you in the morning, and actually being happy," he whispered as he tried to blink back the tears that were falling, "I wish I knew more of what I wanted. Like I don't want you to ruin your entire career for me, and I still can't wrap my head around the money, and I just can't feel that worthless again. And I know you didn't do it on purpose, and that's what hurts the most. That you didn't mean to and I still just felt that invisible."

Xavier took a deep breath in and rubbed his eyes. "No, I---I'm sorry that was harsh. I...I don't know. Everything hurts. That's all I know." He didn't expect anything more out of that. IF anything, they'd probably end up sitting here until someone had some mercy and bailed them out. But instead, Raj spoke again and it was more than he had heard from him in months. It felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on his chest and his heart was going to explode from all the feelings he felt at once. He wiped his own tears, wanting nothing more than to crawl over to Raj and just hug him. "I never meant to make it seem like you weren't hurting. You had a right to feel slighted. I should have never done anything without talking to you. Everything else though...I can't help any of it. I miss you too. More than I can put into words. I don't do words well anymore actually?" He brought his knees up to his chest. "Oh, Raj I--I just think we need time. Maybe you need to really look into your emotions and see if this is what you really want. I can meet you halfway. You've never been invisible to me. That's just the thing. You're literally all I see. Even now. All I see. Everywhere I go, every time I wake up. I hope that someday you see that. I really do. I want nothing more than to make you happy again. I do. These last couple of months have been absolute hell. I have never felt this way and when you walked away, I didn't know what to do with myself. It just felt like everyone walks away, you know?"

Tears once again fell from Raj's eyes - though truthfully they hadn't stopped since they had started. Especially because Xavier was right - everything hurt. And it kept hurting. And being in therapy had just made it all hurt more. "I didn't want to walk away," Raj sniffled, "I know it happened to you before and I hated it, and I still hate it. And I just am trying to figure out myself, but therapy just seems to be making everything worse." July 20, 2022

Raj's words were comforting even if it meant they weren't exactly fixing things anytime soon. Xavier, up until now had been convinced that Raj didn't really care about him anymore. The ghosting, the walking away...it had all made him believe that to be true. Seeing Raj this vulnerable was new. he could probably count on one hand the times he had seen him cry and deep inside, Xavier knew there was a reason for the walls Raj seemed to put up. he knew of some of them but there was more his ex needed to work through and Xavier respected that. Especially now that they were finally talking. "This is all I've wanted." He looked up at the other, offering him a comforting smile. "I know it feels like it's making things worse and that's because it's making you hash out your trauma and look deep into your past and what's going on in your head. It's easy to lock things away. It's hell to unlock them." Xavier crawled over to Raj and sat in front of him. Gently, he cupped his face and looked into his eyes. "Hey. You don't have to go through this alone. Unless you want to, of course. But I'm here. Above all else, we used to be really good friends once. Don't you remember?" His own tears fell. "And if that's all we can be right now, I'd rather that than nothing at all..." He then added in a whisper, "I love you, Raj."

Raj's forehead found Xavier's, resting there as tears still fell from his eyes as he listened. And he knew Xavier was right, despite how much he was struggling with therapy - and struggling with everything else as a result of that. Not to mention Ship-Wrecked hadn't been a good experience and coming off of that, and it being the one thing that he seemed to be known for and was brought up over and over wasn't helping either. And yet, he had forgotten exactly how safe he felt with Xavier. When they weren't fighting, when things weren't weirdly tense, Xavier was his safe space. And while he wanted to go back to them just being friends, he wasn't sure if he could as the words, "I love you too," slipped out, no more than a whisper, "I never stopped," he added before his lips took on a mind of their own and before Raj could think of how much of a mistake it was, found himself kissing Xavier.

Xavier didn't know what else to do but caress Raj's arms as they stayed there together and face to face. He wanted to be as close as Raj allowed him to without crossing any boundaries even though he knew they were both far gone. He closed his eyes, forehead pressing against Raj's, gently rolling back and forth, crying a bit harder at the comment of him never stopping. And before he could say anything else, their lips were meeting. It felt like he was filling a painful void and his hands went back to cupping Raj's face once more, holding him close and kissing him back like he's never kissed him before. "I love you so much." Nose pressed against Raj's, Xavier kissed him hard, thumbs wiping Raj's tears away. "We'll figure it out. I promise. I promise. We don't have to be together. We can just...be."

"Don't promise me anything right now, with how up in the air things I don't think that either of us should promise anything we don't know if we'll be able to keep," Raj quietly said, not wanting to move away from him, "I'm sorry I don't know how to handle anything, and I want to just...." his quiet words were interrupted by the loud sounds of the lock opening followed by the sound of a man that he hadn't run into saying

"Hello? I was told people got locked in here?"

"Yeah, sorry," Raj said, wiping his eyes to try to make himself not look like the complete mess he knew that he was, "Thanks for unlocking the door," he said as he got up before taking a couple of deep breaths just to try to recenter himself. "I think I'm actually going to go, so could you tell Amaya that I called a cab and that I'll see her at home?" he asked Xavier.

"That's fair," Xavier whispered. Anything to at least get them on an even playing field. He wanted to hear what Raj wanted to say and was happy he was finally getting the chance. Until of course, he heard another voice. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Hi. Yeh. Thank you, sir." Xavier stood up and looked up at Raj. He didn't know what this meant. They weren't exactly back on and but at least he had learned that Raj did care for him and was going to try to seek out some help. He could understand Raj needing some time and having to leave. "Yes, of course. I'll tell them. Please...get home safe, okay? Don't...worry about continuing this convo but please text me when you get back, ok?" Xavier watched Raj leave, the last moment he had seen him before this flashing before his eyes. He smiled at the man that had freed him and walked out as well. He wasn't going to leave just yet but his heart definitely felt heavy. Hopefully, this was the beginning of something positive.

#xavier #operation: parent trap

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