#but it would have been no one if that man hadn't stepped behind a wheel

[beemintty]

i am afraid of alcohol...

i am afraid of what it does to people....

i have sworn my whole life that i will never get drunk and i swear it loud.

people have laughed in my face at such a promise i make, but i'll have you know that i will not allow such poison to take control of me.

because that is what it does, it loosens your control on yourself like it loosens your tongue.

you'll tell me to "relax", "settle down", "have a drink", "what's the worst that could possibly happen?!"

no you're right, it isn't the worst to find yourself making out with someone you don't love, or having sex with a stranger, or falling off a ledge, or getting a bit hurt, or ending up in the hands of the police or the hospital, or spilling your secrets, so what's the problem?

what if i stepped behind a wheel... what if i drove without seeing? what if my sister was my passenger, or my partner, or my best friend? what if someone was coming home to their daughter that night, or their cat, or their dad? what if i drove right into them at 100 km/h? what if i survived? and what if they didn't?

this is what that poisonous drink does.

it makes you do things without seeing.

so what's the worst that could happen you ask?someone doesn't get home and i walk away with blood on my hands.

i will never drink enough to let it root in my brain and make me a murderer.

and if i ever do.... i hope it kills me before i kill anyone else.

[strlingsav]

Drive: One

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your relationship with your Lieutenant changes, drastically.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your eyes were fixed on the road before you, watching the lines blur together under the glow of headlights. You stretched your legs out; being cramped in the tight space for hours made you restless. You'd been on edge; not just during the drive, or while entering foreign territory, but when your Lieutenant climbed into the driver's seat.

It was dark, well past midnight, and your eyelids began to flutter shut with the rhythm of tires on pavement. You sunk back into the seat, getting comfortable against the headrest. The silence was deafening, the cabin noise and soft breaths hardly saved you from the tension. If you slept, you wouldn't need to talk.

"L/N," Your Lieutenant's voice pulled you from the brink of sleep. "Stay awake."

You shifted upward, sighing as you looked over at him.

"Sorry, Sir," You said, your hand running over your eyes to wake yourself up.

"Y'tired?" He asked, his gaze shifting to yours briefly.

You nodded. "We've been driving for a while. Any idea when we'll be there?"

"Not long now," His short response was met with a nod, and you turned your head to look out the window at passing lights. "Another hour or two."

Yourself and the Lieutenant were headed toward Al Mazrah, at least a few hours behind the rest of 141. You were the last to be briefed, and they'd sent Soap, Gaz and Captain Price to gather intel before you arrived. They'd been in a convoy of SUVs carrying ammunition and rifles, ready to track down Hassan. It would be a while before anything concrete took place, but Price and Laswell always made sure every base was covered.

It was an uncomfortable situation- riding alone with your Lieutenant. You hadn't spent much one-on-one time with him, and you weren't sure if he expected you to talk or stay quiet. He was difficult to read.

His mysterious outward appearance only drew you to him, in a dangerous way. You frequently imagined what he looked like underneath the mask, if he was as well-built as your imagination made him out to be. The imagery was enticing, and maybe you flattered him a bit too much, but the bait was easy to take. His flippant regard for you made it even easier- you'd never been so motivated to be in someone's good graces.

You knew very well it was a violation of the code of conduct to engage in sexual or romantic relations with your superior. That didn't stop you from thinking of your Lieutenant in unsavoury ways, or positions, rather. The idea alone made your stomach flip- his calloused hands on your soft skin, his lips against your neck, lavishing your body with hungry kisses.

It was a twisted dose of karma, sitting side-by-side, trapped with the man you fantasized about. The man that was strictly off-limits. But you felt like you knew him, at least parts of him, the ones you saw when you watched him, and the fabricated images of his body. It was pure torture, and the more you tried to resist, the harder it became.

Ghost's hand gripped the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift. He was stoic, as usual, but his shoulders were stiff, knuckles white with tension, head nodding side to side with the movements of the vehicle.

"Are you tired?" You looked over, stepping over an unspoken line as you teased him.

You knew you were playing a risky game; you'd been working alongside 141 for close to a year, but Ghost was a locked vault. It was difficult having a conversation with him, ever since you'd arrived.

He wasn't a quiet man, you'd seen the way he interacted with Soap and Price, he only seemed to limit conversation with you specifically. Without coming on too strong, you made an effort to talk to him, hoping he'd warm up to you. Your attempts were futile, only met with one or two word answers and the harsh taste of rejection.

He looked over at you, no hint of expression in his eyes. "No," He shook his head. "'M gettin' sick of the scenery though."

"I can drive if you need to rest."

He looked at the dashboard, checking the time. "Be there soon, no need."

"Anything I can do to help you stay awake? Cold air? Loud music?" You quirked a brow up.

He shook his head again.

"I could sing?" You teased again, hearing him grumble.

"'M sure you'd put me right to sleep," He said, making you laugh.

"I've been told I have the voice of an angel, Lieutenant," You replied, with a soft hum of disbelief coming from him.

You turned your attention back to the road, satisfied with the interaction. It was a tiny glimpse into his actual personality.

"Think you're more the devilish type," He said suddenly, catching your attention.

Your eyes shifted to the side of his head. "Why's that?"

He was silent again, thinking his words over. You could see his eyes dart back and forth across the road ahead, looking around as if gathering a sentence.

His words had intrigued you. It was the usual ribbing you'd expect from your teammates, not your Lieutenant. You knew he was likely making a joke, likely not suggestive in any manner- but it reached your lower abdomen and sent tingles through your spine.

"I've seen you starin'," He said, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment. "Like you're plottin' somethin'."

You felt your cheeks warm at being discovered and your only priority was to cover your tracks.

"Only trying to figure you out Loot, you're an enigma."

"What've you figured out so far?" He asked, a hint of interest in his tone.

You huffed, pursing your lips are you thought.

"You're not the quiet type, in fact, I think you're very chatty. Surprisingly selfless, mostly fearless."

He scoffed. "Mostly?"

"You seem to be scared of me," You answered, your eyes focusing on the side of his head.

He didn't reply, taking his time with your words, reflecting on whether he wanted to be honest, or brutally crush your feelings so he wouldn't have to speak of it again. As he looked at you, his eyes landing on your lips, then your eyes, he wondered if you really had figured him out, and hadn't even noticed. He couldn't resist the look in your eye, the shape of your lips, your smell even, and he debated whether telling you was a good idea- he knew once it started he wouldn't want to stop.

Of course, he was hesitant to say anything, the last thing he needed was to be discharged on account of a sexual harassment accusation. Though the way your body leaned toward his, eyes poring into his, an innocent expression of curiosity on your face, he was confident you were ready to hear the truth- maybe even eager.

"Ain't scared of anything. 'Specially not you. Restraint is more like it," He said, eyes locked on yours for a dangerously long time.

You were nearly dumbfounded, unsure how to respond to the revelation. The entire car ride was a cage match, locked in the tiny space with him until something came of it. A solution, clarification- anything. Maybe even rejection so you'd able to move on and scrub every nasty thought of him from your brain.

You lifted your eyes to him, lips parting in confusion.

"You have to restrain yourself around me?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you laughed lightly.

"Think you do the same," He said. "You just ain't nearly as good at hidin' your wanderin' eyes."

You flushed again, this time, it went deep into your core. A flood of arousal working it's way into the depths of your womb, twisting and turning. You weren't sure whether you had deliberately chosen to stay silent, or if you were at a loss for words. Mustering some confidence, you knew you couldn't let the sliver of information slip from your grasp.

"You watch me, L.T.?"

His gaze met yours, no words following. You chose your next words carefully, but couldn't deny how badly you wanted to move things forward. As you scanned his face, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew it needed to be done, needed to be out in the open. You only hoped he'd be just as transparent with you.

"If I'd known that, I would've given you a show," You said, half-teasing, half-serious, and incredibly invested in where the conversation was headed. It was another line crossed- impossible to turn back.

"That so?" He quipped, intrigued. "Never too late."

You were suddenly aware of how very real it was- the risk of being caught, court-marshalled, discharged- it drove you to rebel even more. You'd never been a big fan of rules anyway. You wanted what you couldn't have, and the temptation was far too strong now to retreat.

"Is that what you want, Lieutenant?" You asked, unbuckling the seatbelt.

"Show me," He nodded, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back.

You sat up straight, your fingers reaching for the buttons on your jacket. Your eyes hadn't left him, intently staring, waiting for a reaction. He glanced over every few seconds, his eyes unreadable as he scoured your frame. You felt the scorch of lust, licking up your spine and engulfing you as your pussy began to seep with wetness.

Your mind was swimming with questions and fears, wondering if it was a mistake; if he hadn't truly meant it. But the anxiety in your gut was quickly replaced with desire, burning straight through you when his eyes met yours.

As you undid the bottom button, you pulled the jacket open, sliding it down your shoulders to reveal your bra, and Ghost had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road.

"Easily distracted," You said, amused. "I'll add that to the list." You moved closer.

"Hard not to be," He shot back.

You leaned back against the seat, goosebumps covering your flesh when he looked over, eyes glued to your breasts, then up to your eyes.

"I'm waitin'," He urged, his free hand falling to your thigh. "Go on."

You shut your eyes, the first taste of intimacy was delicious, warming you inside and out.

You reached your fatigues, unbuttoning them slowly while his hand stroked your thigh. Sliding them down, you sat in your bra and panties on the cool leather seat.

His palm against your skin spread waves of shivers through you.

"Pretty little thing you are," He said, his fingers inching up toward your pussy. "Been waitin' for me to touch you, haven't you?"

You were shocked to hear him speak to you that way; never had you imagined you'd have Lieutenant Ghost calling you pretty, stroking your skin like you were made of glass. It aroused you to no end.

"Yes Sir," You nodded, your hand coming to rest over his as his fingertips ghosted your pussy.

He was infatuated with the sight of your body, your skin, the curves of your flesh, your breasts, thighs on display for him. It didn't take long for his cock to harden, and he shifted uncomfortably in the seat, his chest rising and falling quickly. You noticed his disposition, and took it upon yourself to slide in closer.

"I'd like to please you," You said softly, your sweet voice emanating in his ear; it made his cock twitch. "Help keep you awake."

"Have at it, sweetheart."

You pressed your body against his shoulder. The feeling made you shudder, impatience coursing through you, adrenaline-fuelled confidence overriding any doubts. His grip on the steering wheel tightened when your hand grazed his thigh, a trail of warmth left behind as you eased upward, toward the belt of his fatigues.

"Bloody hell," He muttered, his head snapping to look at you as you wrenched his belt open, snaking your hand into his pants to feel him over his briefs.

He sounded tense, like he desperately needed relief. His voice was hoarse, jugular pounding against his neck as his heart raced. You leaned forward, feeling his pulse on your soft lips, taking the opportunity to slide beneath his briefs and take his cock in your hand. He let out a shaky exhale, though his demeanour hadn't changed.

You licked a stripe up your palm, adding lubrication to better massage him. He grunted when you teased the tip of his cock, your thumb rubbing soft circles over it. You ended his torture relatively quickly, you yourself unable to resist the sounds he made when your hand ran up and down his cock.

"Tha's' it," He mumbled, his eyelids fluttering shut before snapping open to watch his driving.

"Tell me how you like it, Sir," You whispered, your voice welcoming and warm against his covered ear.

"Just like that, sweetheart."

You smiled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, squeezing your palm firmly around him while your wrist twisted.

He lifted one hand off the steering wheel, welcoming you under his arm as you leaned down to wrap your lips over the head of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks, applying suction as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue sliding back and forth on the underside of his cock. He was big, uncomfortably large, stretching your lips and causing an ache in your jaw, but you wouldn't relent.

"Fuuuuckin' hell," He slurred.

It had been a long time since he'd slept with anyone. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want it. He was completely satisfied with his vow of celibacy; not having to explain anything to potential partners, only answering to himself, no tearful goodbyes or leaving someone alone if he were K.I.A. He had it perfected, until he laid his eyes on you.

He knew almost immediately that he'd drop to his knees for you, worship every inch of your body if you let him. But his rational brain knew better, knew that a relationship of any kind between a C.O. and his private was bound to end in fiery wreckage. It seemed, however, that he wasn't up to the challenge of resisting you, especially not now, with your lips wrapped around his cock.

"Atta girl," He grunted.

You could hear the low grunts and rumbles of approval from his chest, his hips bucking against your mouth as you bobbed up and down his cock. You felt the vehicle sway a bit, then felt his hand reach down to gather your hair, pulling just enough to make you moan with pleasure.

Saliva dropped from your mouth down his cock, accidental slurps slipping from you as you struggled to keep a quick pace. It was messy, rough, invigorating, as you imagined him restraining himself, trying his best to keep the vehicle centred.

He growled when you took him to the back of your throat, closing it around his cock. Lifting your head, you gulped in air, tear stains on your cheeks, swollen lips.

You didn't waste another second diving back down, wrapping your hand around his cock as your mouth focused all your attention on the engorged tip. You smoothed your tongue over the ridges and veins, moaning softly when he exhaled sharply.

Suddenly, you felt the SUV come to a halt, and Ghost threw it in park. Sitting up, your eyes scanned your surroundings. A side road, unencumbered by lights or traffic.

"Lie back," He said, taking off his seatbelt. "Will y'let me eat this pretty cunt? Been dyin' to taste you."

You exhaled sharply, his words dripping like honey, sweet and slow, enshrouding you in warmth.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

His hand gripped your waist, guiding you into position, leaning back against the door while he moved your legs into his shoulders. He slipped his mask up over his nose, and your eyes flew to his lips- moist, pink, almost raw with how hard he'd been biting to keep quiet. His jawline was covered with stubble, you were antsy to feel the prickly skin against yours.

His hands dipped down to your thighs, gripping the supple flesh, large enough to hold the circumference of them. He gave a gentle squeeze- reassurance- and you felt his breath fan over your pussy.

His finger hooked into the seat of your panties, tugging them aside. You watched with bated breath, distracted by the way his eyes never left yours as he neared your pussy.

"Suckin' my cock make you this wet, sweetheart?" He asked, an inflection of mockery in his tone.

"Yes," You breathed out, your pussy flinching expectantly with every gust of warm air against you.

"Jesus," He mumbled.

You sighed with content, relaxing into his hold when you finally felt his silky tongue slide between your folds, making contact with your clit. You flinched, but his iron grip held you still under his ministrations.

Your hands reached out to grip his mask, digging into his hair to release even a small amount of pent up frustration.

He was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit fervidly, unabashed. He devoured your pussy, unafraid to make a mess of himself. He grunted with approval at the taste of you and his hands couldn't stop from massaging the malleable flesh of your thighs, spreading your pussy for easier access.

"Yes, Sir," You whimpered, voice cracking at the awkward angle and pleasure rendering you unintelligible. "Please- right there."

He hummed, "I like hearin' you beg."

Your soft exhales turned to whines. The sounds of your pussy were amplified in the cabin, only adding to the arousal pooling in your womb.

"Knew you'd taste fuckin' divine," He whispered against you, and you shivered.

You arched your back, silently begging him to continue massaging your clit with his tongue, and he surprised you with two fingers, sliding inside you with ease.

"Tight fuckin' cunt you have," He grunted, flexing his fingers inside you.

He curled his fingers, his tongue running back and forth over your clit, and your thighs began to shake. Your toes curled over his shoulders, your pussy clenching down as your orgasm neared.

He felt the way you hugged his fingers, and huffed softly against you. Enveloping your clit in his mouth, he sucked gently, his fingers matching the pace. You felt your abdomen tighten, before your climax took over; your eyes falling closed, mouth wide as you let out a strangled moan.

"Tha's it," He whispered, coaxing your orgasm from you and prolonging it with the flick of his tongue and fingers.

You shivered, hitting plateaus of pleasure as you came down from your high, exhaling harshly when his tongue grazed your sensitive clit.

He sat up, his hands grabbing your waist as he shifted his seat further back, practically lifting you over to his lap.

You settled yourself over his thighs, feeling his cock nestled between your folds. You couldn't help but grind your hips over him, and he lurched forward to grab the back of your neck. His hands tugged you in to press his lips against yours, his tongue finding purchase in your mouth.

He swallowed the soft, breathless moans that escaped your throat, your pussy flinching every time his cock nudged your clit. His lips were soft- softer than you'd expected them to be- and it made you melt in his arms. You drew your arms around his shoulders, your hands digging into the flesh of his neck, locking him in position as you kissed.

He grunted into your mouth, the feeling of your slick core grinding over him was making him impatient.

"Stop teasin'," He scolded, his hand reaching back to grip your ass, stopping your hips from rolling forward. "Can't wait much longer."

You shivered, keeping eye contact as you perched forward, helping him to position his cock at your entrance. Your lips parted with a gasp as he slid inside you, stretching your pussy. His fingers dug into your flesh, a sharp exhale leaving his lips.

"Shit," He choked. "Y'feel like fuckin' heaven, sweetheart."

You felt a surge of pride, before it was shattered with just how much you whimpered while sliding down his length. You sat still for a moment, letting yourself adjust to the intrusion, taking a deep breath. You moved forward, and his vice-like grip helped you grind your hips against his.

You fell into his chest, your arms still clinging to his shoulders, your breasts brushing against his vest. He watched you with an intense stare, mesmerized by the way you reacted to his cock deep inside you.

"Fuckin' hell," He growled.

You continued to ride his lap, thighs and ass flexing as you pushed forward, your hands gripping his vest for leverage. He reached down, using his thumb to rub over your clit. You moaned aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the impending orgasm building in your gut.

He relished the way you moaned, softly spoke his callsign, Sir, whimpered, nearly cried as he overstimulated you. He leaned forward, lavishing your throat with hungry kisses, traces of teeth and tongue mixing with his lips. It was too much, or maybe just enough- you were so numb with pleasure it was hard to tell.

"God," You cried, your fingers reaching into his hair beneath his balaclava.

"Tell me how good this cock feels, buried in you."

"So good- so fucking deep," You whined.

"Christ," Another groan as your pussy clenched around him. "Y'look good on my cock."

His vulgar words pushed you even closer to the edge, panting as you chased your orgasm. A part of you had yet to come to terms with the fact that you were fucking your Lieutenant, the other didn't care much what his rank was. His cock was nuzzled against your G-spot, his raspy voice whispering words of encouragement- he was only Ghost, and the repercussions had all but left your mind.

"Keep talking like that, please, Sir," You whimpered, your voice breaking.

He hummed in response. "Fuck," A gust of air from his nose as he struggled to keep his composure while your pussy hugged him tightly.  "You just keep ridin' my cock. Make yourself cum."

"Yes, Sir."

"Think you get off on callin' me Sir," He paused between strangled breaths. "And bein' told what to do."

You nodded. "Yes, Sir."

His hand moved to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh. His fingers traced over your nipples, goosebumps erupting across your body. He pinched them softly, and you let out a whimper.

"Then be a good girl and cum for me," He said, watching as you bounced on his cock.

"I'm so close," Your voice broke.

His thumb hadn't relented, and the added stimulation made it even easier to unfold. Your hand reached out, slamming against the window to brace yourself when your body went rigid. Your pussy clenched one last time before you squeezed your eyes shut, writhing in his grip as ecstasy lit up every nerve in your body. You tried to hold it back, tried to hold out a bit longer, but he played your body so well it almost broke you.

"Shit!" You cried, your head falling forward to his.

You gasped for air through your muscles contracting, your orgasm enveloping your entire body. He breathed out, his cock twitching when your pussy clenched around him. His fingers were bruising your waist and hip, holding onto you firmly like you'd vanish if he didn't.

He choked on his words, a sharp gasp from the back of his throat as the silken muscles of your pussy flexed around his cock.

You bucked your hips, extending the longevity of your orgasm while he watched with intrigue, pride swelling with how well he could unravel you.

"Not long now, pussy is too good," He said, his voice strangled and tight.

You were still suffering the after-effects of your orgasm, sweat lining your forehead, relaxing into his hold on your body. You pushed yourself to continue, wanting so badly to feel him release inside you.

"Cum in me," You whispered.

He didn't give it a second thought, though he should've, but your body against his, the doughy feel of your pussy- he almost didn't have a choice. His breathing faltered as he bucked his hips up into yours. He grunted softly, your waist already sore with his heavy touch, keeping you in place as he came in you.

The air was still for a moment, both of you catching your breath while still reeling from your orgasm. You quickly collected yourself, sliding off of him to ease back into the passenger seat.

"Here," He said, handing you a rag from his vest.

"Thanks," You muttered.

You quickly cleaned up and dressed yourself as he turned the car off the side road and toward the destination. You let out a soft sigh, feeling more tired than before. Your head landed against the window.

"You alright?" He asked, looking over at you.

You nodded, "Tired."

"Be there soon. We can pick this up later."

A sly smile crossed your lips. "You're not going to hold back on me again, are you?"

His eyes met yours with a chilling stare. He'd had his first fix, and he knew now there was no end in sight- he was addicted.

"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."

[naivegh0ul]

Could you possibly do a soap platonic fic where ghost has a 9 year old daughter and she is the total opposite of ghost, she just rambles and she meets soap at base and they instantly become infatuated with each other and ghost finds them talking about sharks in immense detail to each other???

Oh my gosh that is such a cute idea! 🥹🥹🥹

Soap had no idea Ghost had a daughter. I mean, why would he, of all people, have a kid? Ghost is a lone wolf, "I work alone," may as well be his catchphrase at this point.

So, one night when the squad goes out for drinks, Ghost having been forced to come, Soap is curious as Ghost gets a call. Soap was surprised Ghost even had a phone, he just imagined he brought a radio everywhere with him, like the strict soldier he is.

Soap watched as Ghost stepped away from the bartop, murmuring a low, "Hey, sweetheart." into his phone. He assumed that maybe Ghost had a girl back home, but when Soap listened in further, he was shocked.

"I know, I know. Daddy will be home soon, alright? Behave for the babysitter. Alright, I love you too, sweetheart. Bye."

Wow, was all Soap could think. No way The Ghost has a child. Impossible, simply impossible. But, the way Ghost spoke to whoever was on the other line...

Soap had to investigate this.

For the next few weeks, Soap kept a close eye on Ghost, trying to listen in on his phone calls, peering around him when he was texting someone.

It was a little creepy, yeah, but Soap needed to know whether or not Ghost actually has a little mini-me or not.

Ghost seemed a little off one day, constantly on his phone, being mean to the recruits, (Well, meaner than usual.) It got Soap curious again. Ghost left the base around 2pm, and Soap watched with raised eyebrows.

To his knowledge, Ghost hadn't been called out on a mission, and he had left the base wearing civilian clothes, this all got the wheels turning in Soap's brain.

Ghost came back around 4pm, and Soap immediately went to greet him. Then, he saw it. Actually, he saw her. A little girl, huddled behind Ghost's back, clutching onto his jacket with a shark plushie in her small hand.

The little girl looked up at Soap with wide eyes, a twinkle of curiosity visible. "Hey, lass, I'm Soap. What's your name?" Soap said. The girl glanced up at Ghost as if to see if it was okay to talk to the strange man, and Ghost nodded down at her.

"Beth." She answered, smiling a little up at Soap. "Do you like sharks?" Beth pointed at Soap's mohawk, clearly thinking that it looked like a shark fin.

Ghost chuckled under breath, and Soap nodded. "I do. Does this little fella have a name?" Soap crouched down in front of Beth and gestured to the shark plushie she was holding.

"Sharkie!" Beth exclaimed with a happy smile. She seemed excited to be talking about her plushie. Beth toddled over to Soap and held up the toy, showing it to him while telling him facts about sharks.

Soap looked over at Ghost, smiling to himself as he saw the proud look in Ghost's eyes as he stared down at his little girl. Ghost stepped closer to the two and placed a hand on Beth's head before kneeling down.

"Daddy's gotta go finish some work, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can, you stay with Soap." Ghost said, stroking his daughter's hair lovingly. He lent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head through his mask before walking away.

Soap felt his heart swell with happiness at the thought of Ghost trusting him enough to let him look after his daughter. "Alright, you little menace, what do you say we go get some ice cream?" Soap smiled as the little girl squealed in excitement and nodded, grabbing Soap's hand.

The entire car ride to the ice cream parlour, Beth was chattering away in the backseat, telling Soap all about sharks. "Did you know that baby sharks are called pups? Like little dogs! Isn't that cool?"

Soap pulled into the parking lot and helped Beth out, walking into the shop with her on his hip. "Mr. Soap, can I have chocolate ice cream?" Beth asked. She tugged on Soap's sleeve, looking at him hopefully.

"Of course you can, lass." Soap smiled, ruffling Beth's mousy brown hair. Soap ordered the two of them some ice cream, getting strawberry for himself and chocolate for Beth.

Beth kept talking the whole time, excitedly telling Soap about sharks, and about that one time when Ghost took her to an aquarium and she got to see a shark in person.

"It was so cool! It was kinda big and scary, but I know my Daddy could fight it off." Beth giggled at the story, beaming as she praised her father.

It was cute, to watch this little girl who is somehow Ghost's daughter despite being the complete opposite of him, ramble about sharks. "Do you work with my Daddy, Mr. Soap?" Beth asked curiously as she nibbled on her chocolate ice cream, smearing some around her lips.

"Yeah, I do. He's my friend, as well." Soap took a bite of his own ice cream, looking over at Beth as she scooped up some of her ice cream and pretending to feed it to her shark plushie, staining the shark's face a little.

Soap checked his watch after a while, his eyes widening as he realised they'd been gone for quite a while. "Let's go back, yeah? I bet Ghost- your dad is missing you." Soap said, catching himself when he referred to Ghost by his callsign, unsure if Beth knew about that.

The girl seemed oblivious and nodded her head, wiping her mouth on her sleeve before she hopped off her chair, shark plushie in hand.

The two headed back to base and Soap took Beth to the 141's common room, putting on some random kids show on the old TV for Beth to watch.

Soap sat back, watching as Beth sat cross legged on the floor and looked up at the TV, watching eagerly as Octonauts played. Beth seemed to be really enjoying the show, giggling loudly, it made Soap smile.

Beth continued to tell Soap about shark facts, pulling one off the top of her head each time a shark would show up on screen. She is actually quite smart, she knows more about sharks than any adult Soap knows.

Neither of them noticed when Ghost entered the room, Soap being too engrossed in the facts Beth is telling him. Ghost watched from the doorway, smiling under his mask as his little girl taught Soap about sharks.

(ok but why is this over 1k words. i think i've become obsessed with parent!ghost and little beth 🥹)

[starks-hero]

Little Runaway

Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: “You heading home, carinõ?” “Not exactly.”

You decide to run and leave everything behind you, but the cabbie you've hailed to drop you to the airport might just change your mind.

Word Count: 2.3k

a/n: I'm not saying that you should listen to this song whilst reading but it definitely gives off the ~vibe~

It was raining and you hadn't packed a jacket.

You hadn't packed much of anything, really. A heap of clothes, your passport, and what little cash you had. You had no clear idea where you were heading; you'd decided you'd figure that out as you went.

The pavement was already beginning to flood, water seeping into the soles of your shoes and dampening your socks. You cringed, readjusting the bag on your back. Your arm, which had been extended to the road in a desperate plea for someone to take pity and pick you up, was growing heavy.

The sky rumbled above you, an unpleasant preview of the deluge that was to come. You huddled in on yourself.

The screech of rubber against gravel split the air as a blue Honda Civic made its entrance at the end of the street. It spun from one side of the road to the other in flamboyant turns, and its radio blared so loudly the windows vibrated and quivered.

You took your chances and raised your arm. You'd take a lift from Ghostface at this rate if it meant getting off this godforsaken sidewalk.

The car sped up, frighteningly so, and your stomach dropped. It swerved towards the path, purposely speeding through the puddles collecting in the gutter. The small wave of water drenched the legs of your pants, from your knees down to your shoes. The blaring music barely drowned out the hysterical laughter from inside the car as it sped off.

You stepped away from the road and the squelch of your wet socks almost reduced you to tears. You folded your arms across your chest and started walking. You weren't even sure you were heading in the right direction but anywhere would be better than here.

Five minutes into your trek and drenched to the point it was a miracle your skin hadn't turned blue, a car horn sounded. You turned to the road.

A cab emerged from the heavy curtain of rain, black and sleek. Its tires were deathly quiet against the gravel and you questioned if it was a figment of your psyche. An imaginary savior.

It slowed as it pulled up beside you, tires kissing the pavement. The paint job was so prestine you could see your reflection staring back at you.

You were a pitiful sight.

The tinted window rolled down painfully slow and you squinted your eyes against the rain to catch sight of the man who sat inside.

Dark brown eyes regarded you from under the fraying edge of his cap. His stare was stern but not judgmental, looking you over with something close to pity.

"You need a ride?"

You oddly found yourself speechless. Blinking twice then once more, you surveyed the car again before looking back to your knight in clad leather. His hand tapped against the steering wheel in an uneven beat, an action you might have mistaken for impatience if his expression was an inch less friendly.

You shuffled your feet, the small puddles of water collecting in your shoes making themselves known. This was exactly what you'd been hoping for but the reality of getting in a car with a stranger was daunting.

"I don't bite, carinõ." He said suddenly. "Look–" he leaned forward and tapped twice on the taxi sign and (albeit run-down) fair counter on the dashboard. "I'm the real deal. I'll take you anywhere you need to go."

He motioned to the back of the car. You inched forward, then fell back on your heel.

"Look, I'd do anything for a pretty face but I don't have all day, are you coming or going?" Despite the nature of his words, his voice was still low, even; you'd dare say kindly.

Throwing caution, (as well as your memory of every murder mystery film you'd ever seen) to the wind, you slipped into the back of the car.

It was an instant relief. The warm air from the heaters kissing your skin and heating your cheeks. Even the heavy scent of cigarettes that clung to everything inside the taxi was somewhat comforting.

"Coming, then," you heard your driver muse as he pulled back onto the road.

You'd given him your destination, (the nearest airport, railroad or dock) and then you were off. Watching the world fade into a blundered mix of grey's outside the car's window made what you were doing feel far more real.

A few minutes of silence passed, followed by a small handful spent trading small talk, mostly about the weather. You supposed that it was all part of his job.

"You heading home, carinõ?" he asked casually and you supposed it was a fair question to ask.

"Not exactly," you answered, choosing to leave it at that.

You caught sight of his nod in the rearview mirror. He was quiet in contemplation for a moment. "Anywhere in mind?"

A laugh of disbelief, mostly at your own actions. "Anywhere away from here." In all honesty, you hadn't planned that far ahead. Your destination largely depended on which ticket was cheapest.

Another hum of thought from your chofer. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're not going to tell me what it is you're running from, no?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and huddled in on yourself. Your clothes were still dripping and the heating was doing little to fend off the chill now.

"Then you'd guess right."

The car lulled back into a gentle quiet. The rhythmic sound of the tires gliding over the road, the occasional bump throwing it off its rhythm. The rain pattering at the roof and windows, and the persistent beating of your driver's hand against the wheel.

You shivered again, a rebellious droplet having fallen from your damp hair and sliding down your back. You missed the look the cabbie gave you in the mirror.

He slowed the cab, just enough for him to lean across and open the glove compartment without having to worry about ending up in an unplanned game of bumper cars.

A large, brown jacket was tossed to you, the faux fur lining the neck feeling heavenly between your stiff fingers.

"Warm yourself up." His eyes were already back on the road.

You slipped the coat over your shoulders. It swallowed you up in warmth and you sighed, pulling it taunt against your damp frame. It smelled of ash, cigarettes and gasoline, an unusual cocktail that somehow screamed comfort. Given where he'd produced it from, something told you that giving his coat to strangers wasn't all part of your cabbie's general service. You sank into the item of clothing a little more.

You thanked him and comedically he tipped his hat to you. The small smile you managed made your cheeks feel warm.

The rain let up if only a little and the radio took its place as the dominant sound in the car. It was a quiet, dreary song playing; one you'd expect to hear from the front porch on a Sunday morning. Soft and gentle, easy to listen to. And the Spanish singing was ethereal.

'Tuvo compasión, más allá del sol, más allá del sol, yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar.’

You let your head fall back against the rest, shoulders slumping and a gentle hum passing your lips.

Your cabbie lifts his brow in the rear view mirror and oddly you don't feel patronized under his gaze.

"The song," you say instead. "I like it."

In a beat, he reached across and turned the radio dial. The song flowed through the speakers with new strength. His gentle raps against the steering wheel fell into tune with the ballad on the radio, and his features softened.

"En la turbación, más allá del sol, más allá del sol."

His singing was nothing like his voice, the gruffness vanished and the rough edge softened. It was light and gentle, soothing and rivaling the artist on the radio. It was homely.

"Yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar."

You weren't sure where or what you were running to, but you thought that whatever it was would, maybe, feel like this.

A warmth sat in your chest now, not just in place of where the rain had left its chill but where a deep void had been, a cold emptiness that had driven you to run in the first place.

This, you realized, was the feeling you were chasing. You just hadn't expected to find it in the back of a stranger's cab.

You pulled off the main road and turned onto a smaller street. The curbs were flooded and the traffic lights shone dimly through the downpour. You cringed at the thought of leaving your little haven, with its calming music, warm coat and absolute enigma of a driver.

"Here's fine," you said, gently tapping the seat in front of you twice in case the sound of rain against glass had drowned out your voice. You caught his gaze in the mirror again, his brows were pulled together, concerned, but he complied and pulled over all the same.

Within a moment of the car slowing to a halt against the path, he turned fully in his seat to face you.

The airport was at least another twenty minute drive and it was a half an hour to the nearest train station. But you'd watched the red numbers on the fair counter as they went up. This was as close as your money could get you.

You shrugged off his coat, the act sluggish and slow with hesitance. As you attempted to hand it back, he pulled away, raising his hands like the item of clothing would burn him.

"Keep it, carinõ. You need it more than me."

You rushed to refuse, practically tossing it back to him. But your fight was short lived and in the end your cabbie reigned victorious.

You reached for the door handle, catching sight of him resetting the fair counter to zero without your payment. He hadn't expected you to see so you decided not to comment.

"There's nowhere else I can take you?" He asked. His voice was so soothing you almost wanted to say yes just to spend more time with him.

You opened the car door, hoping he didn't notice you slipping thirty pound into the pocket of the backseat. It took several attempts of carefully crafted sentences topped with faux confidence to convince him you were fine being left where you were.

“Thank you,” you said, buttoning up his jacket and sending a stiff wave his way. “You've really helped me out.”

Then you were gone, disappearing into the worsening night. And the rain had gotten heavier.

Jake had always prized himself for his indifference; His ability to stumble upon something and, for the most part, decide that it wasn't his problem.

But as he pulled back onto the road and left you stood on the sidewalk, something that felt an awful lot like guilt settled in his stomach. He didn't know why, he'd done his job; ferried you from A to B. And he'd been generous even at that, given that the rain on your clothes had soaked into the leather seats.

But the way you'd sat huddled up and looking impossibly small in the back seat, it stirred up something in Jake he'd dare call an emotion. He'd offered you his jacket, yes, but that was just being gentlemanly, he assured himself.

The car slowed to a halt at the command of a red light, the rain seeming almost louder now that the car was stationary. Jake turned up the radio. There was an angry rumble of thunder in the distance.

"Ay dios mío." Jake drove through the traffic lights and swerved into the other lane. The worsening weather thankfully meant no one was in attendance to attest to his horrific violation of traffic safety.

A minute of backtracking and you finally came into view, battling your way through the wind and rain, his coat serving as pretty useless armour.

You looked like the human personification of misery.

He stopped the car beside you and rolled the window down, raising his voice over the sound of the rain.

"Get in."

You stared at him as though you'd just experienced the strangest bout of deja vu.

"What?"

"You spend another minute out in this and you'll catch your death and personally I don't want to be responsible for you dying of pneumonia."

He was your cabbie. He shouldn't feel responsible for anything about you. Except perhaps for the fact that he was down twenty-one pound in fairs.

Almost to emphasize Jake's point, you sneezed, sinking into his coat as you did.

God give him strength.

He muttered under his breath, before leaning over his armrest and opening the passenger-side door.

"Come on, don't make me beg."

You regarded him again, much like you did when he first took pity on you and pulled over and Jake suddenly remembered that, yes, this definitely wasn't something regular cabbies did.

"Carinõ, if I had murder on my mind I would have done it back on Leyfield Road." He smirked. "You getting in the car now just lets me have a good night's sleep tonight."

You were skeptical, he could tell. But the feel of his jacket sat heavily against your shoulders seemed to remind you that his intentions were good; or not bad at the very least.

As you stepped off the curb and back into the car, Jake took an unburdened breath for the first time since dropping you off. As he kicked the cab back into gear he stole a glance at you, now sitting to his right.

You were shaking, hair drenched and droplets of water falling down your cheeks and dripping from the end of your nose. He felt like he'd plucked a drowning kitten from the gutter and put it in the front seat, all bundled up in his clothes.

You thanked him and Jake nodded, glad that you hadn't asked for an explanation for his sudden change of profession; from cab driver to protector of the traveller's of the night.

"What now?" you asked instead. A fair question. Jake sighed.

"How do you feel about coffee?"

thank you for reading!

moon knight tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife

[penny00dreadful]

Brain worm! 🪱 Just a lil silly somethin written in a daze.

Eddie had to wrench the wheel back so he didn't run the fucking van into a tree.

Did he seriously, seriously just see what he thought he just saw?

As soon as there was a gap in the road Eddie swung the van around and pulled into the gas station he had just passed, trying to keep as low a profile as possible.

Which was no mean feat considering the state of his catalytic converter but once he'd pulled up into a dark corner, a glance in the wing mirror told him he hadn't been spotted.

It also told him that, yes. He'd been correct on his initial passing glance. He was actually seeing this shit.

Eddie glanced down at his clothes. Ripped up jeans, his 'Hell Awaits' Slayer t-shirt depicting a giant inverted pentagram, demons and hellfire, chains, rings, leather jacket, battle vest, boots.

Yeah, he looked sufficiently scary.

Night was starting to fall around him so he still went unnoticed as he slid carefully out of the van and made his way over to the two lone figures just barely lit up by the harsh artificial exterior lights.

He planted himself just behind, what looked like, some middle class dad type who was standing just a little too close for comfort.

Eddie crossed his arms and spoke to the second figure barking out in the lowest tone of voice he could muster.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing, young man?"

The middle class dad whipped around. The second his eyes landed on Eddie he had a look on his face like the devil himself had just manifested behind him.

Without a second of wasted time he scampered away, tail between his legs, leaving Mike Wheeler standing there, wide eyed, pale faced and terrified.

Good.

"Edd-" Mike swallowed, slowly backing away as Eddie advanced. "What are you doing here?"

Mike's back hit the wall and Eddie took one more step forward, looming over him. "You don't get to ask questions, Wheeler. You get to answer them. Now I'm only going to ask this one more time: Just what THE FUCK are you doing out here?"

"N-nothing! We were... I was just-"

There was a clatter and some hushed expletives before the rest of The Party appeared around the corner.

"He's not here alone!" Dustin shouted, apparently under the impression that that was going to calm Eddie down in any way at all.

"And you think that makes this better, does it?"

"Yes! Safety in numbers!"

"There is no safety in whatever the hell I just witnessed!" Eddie exploded. "There is no safety in being at a remote gas station on the outskirts of town at night and talking to strange men for whatever reason!"

The kids all looked to be in various stages of shock, clearly not expecting Eddie to lay into them so fiercely but he didn't care. He refused to feel bad for them.

"Tell me, oh braniacs, what would have happened if someone had come along and snatched Little Wheeler up, huh? Would you have chased after the car on your bikes?" He sneered. "How would you have contacted anyone? How long would it take someone to get here? What if one of you had been attacked? Or robbed? Or murdered? What would you have done then?! How could you all be so stupid?"

"It's not stupid! We weren't being stupid!" Dustin shouted back. "We have our walkies-!"

Eddie laughed, cold and mean and so, so angry but Dustin continued to dig his own grave.

"You all never let us try anything! You never give us a sip of beer or a smoke or any of your weed which we know you still have-"

"Watch it, Henderson." His voice was low and dangerous.

"So we were just trying to get someone to buy something for us, that's all!"

"Oh that's all? That's all, is it? And you have money to pay for this purchase?"

Dustin scoffed. "Of course."

"So tell me, what would have happened if someone went in there and bought you your beer but then decided that wasn't payment enough? What would you have done if he started asking or demanding something else?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, what could a grown man possibly want with a fifteen year old little boy?" Eddie shook his head. "You know what, I'm not having this conversation out here. Get in the van."

"But... our bikes-"

"GET IN THE FUCKING VAN, HENDERSON!"

Eddie observed in stony silence, his face thunderous as the kids all loaded their bikes into the back of the van before they scuttled in themselves, quiet and cowed.

He slammed the drivers side door closed before turning his key in the ignition and pulling out of the gas station, the silence in the car suffocating, bouncing off the walls.

"Um..." They were nearly halfway back to Hawkins by the time Will's small voice cut through the air. "You're not going to tell our parents, are you?"

Eddie looked back at him in the rear view mirror. The kids were all watching his reaction with worry and Eddie refused to drop his anger in the face of Baby Byers. Not this time. Not for this. He had to stay angry because if he stopped being angry he might just lose himself in what if's.

"No. I'm not going to tell your parents."

The kids all sighed in relief, somehow still believing they were being let off the hook.

"But I am going to tell Steve."

The explosion nearly shook the van. The kids were all screaming, begging, nearly crying not to tell him.

"No! No, Eddie, please!"

"You can't tell him, he'll kill us!"

"Yeah, then he'll bring us back from the dead just to kill us again!"

"You can't do this to us!"

"You know what he's like, Eddie! You can't sell us out to him like that!"

"I can and I will!"

"Can you... can you- shit. Can you please tell him, like, gently? So he doesn't freak the fuck out? He's your boyfriend, he'll listen to you!"

"You all are in no position to be asking for favours right now." Eddie brought the car to a stop in the Harrington driveway. "So here's how it's going to go. We are going to go inside. You are going to tell Steve exactly what just happened. Then the two of us are going to explain to you exactly why what you all just pulled was so monumentally dangerous. Whatever he decides to do with you all after that is up to him. He is your babysitter. You all bestowed that title on him. I am just the babysitter's boyfriend. It's out of my hands."

"Oh, but... you could be our babysitter too?" Dustin tried, a clear and pathetic attempt to make the incoming shitstorm go smoother.

"Not a chance, Henderson." Eddie hopped out and made his way around, throwing open the back doors of the van and gesturing to the now open front door where an extremely distinctive swoopy haired silhouette stood. "Go and face your fate."

[system-to-the-madness]

Midnight At Osanbashi Pier - Dazai Osamu x Reader

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader Genre: hurt/comfort - fluff Word Count: 2 611 Warnings: OOC!Dazai (sorry), sexual harassment (not by Reader or Dazai!) Summary: Your date for New Years starts getting pushy but luckily Dazai is there to interfere A/N: For @un-lawliet ... and the photographs are actually from taken from Osanbashi Pier in Yokohama on New Years Eve 2023

Masterlist

Behind your back, blue lights of the harbour illumination were sparkling brightly in the last minutes of the old year, but their glitter did nothing to easy your discomfort. You really regretted having agreed to this date with the barista from the café you always picked the Armed Detective Agency's order up from. Especially since the longer the date progressed the more you wished you had instead agreed to spend New Year's Eve with the other members of the ADA. The man, John, was cute, with huge blue eyes and lazily sideways swiped hair, the American accent in his voice giving his speech a charming tilt.

And he was a welcome distraction from those coffee-brown eyes that kept haunting you.

Dazai was your coworker, you kept telling yourself, and he was the flirtiest man you knew. He flirted pretty much with everything and anything that crossed his path, except for you. In the beginning you had been rather happy he hadn't focused on you the same way he did with everyone else, but the better you got to know him, the more you hoped he'd also pay attention to you the way he seemed to do with everyone else. Sure, receiving the attention you had been craving for the past year would probably only make your feelings for him worse and end in heartbreak, considering he could never be serious. You had seen him go out with enough girls only to barely acknowledge them after, as if one date had been enough for him to completely lose any and all interest in them entirely. You feared if Dazai were to ever direct his attention to you, you'd end up meeting the same fate.

Your thoughts got interrupted by two warm and strong hands on your waist, making you tense up. Your date, John, had tried being handsy with you all evening and honestly, the more he tried the more your alarm bells rang. Not to mention that the date didn't go as planned at all. First he had been late and had dragged you to some cheap pizza place instead of the rice bowl restaurant you had agreed on. Then he had continued talking only about himself and how amazing it was for him to have scored a place in the exchange program to Japan before he even started making degrading comments about your "office job" because, unwilling to explain to him about abilities and the ADA, you had told him you worked as an assistant in a detective agency, which he had somehow understood as an invitation to look down on all office workers ever.

You should have called it quits after that, telling him you wanted to end the date there and instead have called up Kunikida to pick you up, so you could spend the rest of the evening with your coworkers and friends. But John had convinced you to come to Osanbashi Pier with him, so you had only sent a quick text to Atsushi, complaining about your situation.

Sure, the view over the harbour towards night-time Yokohama was fantastic and the light show, the illumination and the music creating a beautiful atmosphere, but with John sticking to your side, trying to pull you in every chance he got, you'd be lying if you said it didn't destroy the mood.

"Only ten seconds left of this year now," he whispered his tall frame towering over you, warm breath fanning over your ear, making you shudder.

The crowd around you began a count down, and you pressed closer to the balustrade of the pier, trying to avoid the overbearing contact with John's body, but he only stepped closer.

The Ferris Wheel at the other side of the harbour counted down the remaining seconds, colourful lights shining through the cool December night. You wondered what their light would look like reflected in Dazai's eyes.

Just when the countdown hit two, John spun you around to face him, and leant in. Panic surged through you, and before his lips could touch yours, you twisted in his arms, pushing away from him.

"What do you think you're doing," you shouted over the cheering of the crowd around you as the clock stroke midnight. The Ferris Wheels lit up in all colours of the rainbow.

"New Year's Kiss, what did you think," John grinned broadly as if he were proud of himself, reaching for your waist again to pull you back in.

"No thanks, I'm good," you denied.

His expression shifted from overly cheerful to threatening.

"I think I deserve one, don't you? I've been very patient with you the whole evening!"

"I said no." You tried sounding strong, but somehow a proper fight was a lot easier than standing up for yourself. Carefully you took a step back.

"What do you mean, no?"

Another step back and you collided with something warm an firm; the chest of another guest.

"I do suppose she meant it in the way it usually is used, as a denial or rejection," a male voice interrupted, the voice belonging to the man you had stumbled into. A shiver ran down your spine as you recognised it as Dazai's. What was he doing here? "But do correct me if I'm wrong, my love." Affectionately he patted your head as he always did. The contact sent excited sparks through your body.

"Who the hell are you," John snarled, taking a threatening step towards Dazai and you. Instinctively you tensed, preparing to defend yourself, but then Dazai's hand slipped from your head to rest on your shoulder instead, and you knew he was ready to pull you behind himself, should the need arise.

"The person who will make sure to snap your hands off at the wrist if you dare touching her again without her explicit wish."

You knew Dazai's words were directed at John to protect you, but you still couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine at the ice in his voice. Feeling you tremble, Dazai squeezed your shoulder gently through the long coat you were wearing, his caring touch such a strong contrast to the threat in his words.

"Dazai-"

Carefully you turned around to face him, trusting him to warn you in time should John try to move in. His usually warm brown eyes were hardened with disgust, leaving no doubt about how angry he was on your behalf. Behind your back, somewhere over the harbour, fireworks exploded in the night sky, earning "ahh"s and "ohh"s from the crowd around you. The reds and greens lit Dazai's face up from one side, making him look even more threatening. But you also couldn't help but think that if the expression in his eyes had been softer, he would have looked angelic.

"What's your problem, man," John asked, sounding truly annoyed now.

"My problem is that you tried to kiss her when she clearly told you she didn't want you to. We might go as far as calling it sexual assault," Dazai hissed, trying to take a step forward, but you placed your hand at his chest, stopping him. With every deep inhale he took the cool fabric of his open coat shifted slightly over the smooth material of the expensive waistcoat he wore, giving away how worked up he was. Immediately his brown eyes flickered down to your hand on his chest and then your eyes.

"Don't," you mumbled and Dazai's eyes softened immediately.

"What? You gonna let her put a leash on you like some fucking dog?" John's continuously raised voice started drawing the attention of the people around you to the dispute, making you want to hide against Dazai's chest.

"Oh, kinky," the detective chuckled. "Are you into that, my love?" The last part was directed at you, driving heat to your cheeks.

"Hey-"

John took a step forward, but before you could react, Dazai had shoved you behind him.

"If you take one more step, we'll find out if I can throw you far enough that you'll actually hit the harbour and not the street below," Dazai warned, the playful edge in his voice having vanished again entirely, leaving only a sharp cold. "What do you think, my love? It's quite far to the water. Think he'll make it?"

Tightly gripping onto Dazai's arm, should he actually plan on making good on his words, you directed your attention to John again.

"You should leave," you advised.

Much to your surprise John didn't disagree and instead turned away from you with a clearly audible "bitch" on his lips.

When the next firework exploded in a rain of reds and oranges in the sky above you, he had disappeared in the crowd. Immediately Dazai turned to you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and leaning down to eye level.

"Are you okay? Are you cold? You're shivering." The concern with which Dazai treated you now was the exact opposite of the way he had talked to John just a second ago. At his question you realised he was right. You were indeed shivering, but not from the cold and rather the stress the past minutes had caused you.

"How did you find me," you asked instead of answering as Dazai shrugged his coat off and threw it over your shoulders, tucking it into place without meeting your eyes.

"Atsushi showed me your message about how you wanted to leave and didn't know how. I got worried," he admitted and somehow he sounded unfamiliarly sincere, still evading your gaze.

"Thank you," you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his shoulder when you realised he wouldn't look at you.

"Can't have anything happening to you, you're too important to me," Dazai whispered, wrapping his arms around you, and holding you close, nuzzling his nose against your hair. He faintly smelled of green tea and ginger cookies.

For a moment you stood still like that, only processing what he had said.

"Why do you always call me 'my love'”, you suddenly asked, trying to pull away far enough to look at Dazai's face, but he kept you pressed to his chest.

"Can't you tell?"

Blue and purple fireworks lit up the night.

"Would I ask if I could?"

He sighed gently, placing a kiss against your hair. "You're not some tempting looking berry that could kill me with the first bite. You're- well, my love."

This time when you tried pulling away, he let you. His eyes reflected the glow of the Ferris Wheel behind your back and the sparks of the fireworks in the sky above the pier. The little light was enough to reveal the vulnerability in his gaze. It was strange. Dazai Osamu didn't do vulnerable. He was wrapped in bandages, protecting the traces of his hurtful past from preying eyes, always wore a cocky smile to hide the sadness that sometimes threatened to shimmer through. You knew him well enough to have seen him pull up these walls more than once. But now instead of throwing the gates to his soul shut, he pulled them wide open, letting you see everything, the pain, the fear, and seemingly infinite amounts of love. For a moment you thought you should be scared of being let in, being presented with all his heart like this. But instead all you felt was overwhelming gratitude and relief at finding your feelings returned.

Reaching up, you brushed a strand of his hair out of his forehead. His skin was cool to the touch and his eyes flickered closed for a moment before he forced them open again, giving you a long and intense look which finally pulled the words from your lips which you had held back for too long already.

"Please kiss me."

Dazai's eyes widened surprised at your request and flickered to your lips, but he hesitated. Instead of leaning in, his gaze grew absentminded for a moment, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Still focused on the way you nervously but your lip, he slowly spoke.

"If you let me kiss you now, you'll never get rid of me again," he warned.

"Who says I want to?"

"I mean it," his eyes finally found yours again as if he had snapped back into the moment. "I know you think I'll just move on like I do with everyone else, but the reason I can't stay with anyone else is because they aren't you."

Instead of answering him, you just kept looking at him, challengingly. Usually, Dazai was not one to easily loose a staring match, but this time he caved far quicker than you had anticipated. The only warning you got was a twitch of his nose before he leant in, pressing his soft lips against yours, making your eyes flicker closed. The smell of green tea filled your nose, as golden stars exploded over your heads, shining through your closed eyelids. Dazai's kiss was careful but determined as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you against him and when you wrapped your hand into the short hair in his nape, he quietly sighed into the kiss, sending another shiver through your body.

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could have sworn Dazai had to feel it and as if he had read your thoughts, he moved one hand from your waist, and instead slowly ran it up and down your back, gently comforting you into the kiss only to teasingly run the tip of his tongue against your lips once you had relaxed into his arms, making you inhale sharply at the foreign sensation and the sweet taste. Your reaction pulled a warm chuckle from his lips and heat into your cheeks but when you tried pulling away, he only let you do so for a moment before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you back against his lips, this time more urgent, making you gasp which in turn allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It felt like he had taken up all your senses, his hair smooth under your fingers, the scent of green tea filling your nose, his breath and your heartbeat in your ears equally drowning out any other sound, his subtle taste of ginger cookies and mints making you dizzy. And when you pulled away, blinking your eyes open and gasping for breath, you met his eyes, fireworks of gold and silver reflecting in dark pools of brown that seemed to have found their own glow from within, shining with something you had never seen this strong in his eyes before. But it had been there for a long time, you suddenly realised, this softness with which he considered you, affection, that usually was well guarded behind the mask he always wore so meticulously. But now he had dropped that mask, for you. And that had to be the greatest gesture of trust you could imagine.

A smile pulled at Dazai's lips as he watched you study his face, not the usual teasing or silly smile, but an honest, heartfelt one.

"Happy New Year," you mumbled, reaching up, brushing the back of your fingers over his cheek. You could have sworn a slight hint of pink dusted over his face but in the dim and ever-changing light of the fireworks it was impossible to be certain.

Dazai laughed quietly, placing his hands at your waist, under his coat which he had thrown over your shoulders earlier, but over your own jacket and pulled you against him until your hips were flushed against his.

"Happy New Year," he whispered back before he leant in to kiss you once more.

[blueraineshadows]

Yes, Professor

Professor Sebastian Sallow x F!MC 👀🔥

NSFW 🌶 🔞 Part One of MC's University level education experience with a rather familiar Professor. A little spicy to get us started.

As MC walked towards the lecture halls, her eyes swept up over the huge main atrium of the Ministry, dodging the bustling crowds of employees dashing off to their various offices. It was her first time here, and she gaped at the grand scale of everything.

In her hand she clutched the piece of parchment that gave her instructions on what was expected of her on her first day, and after taking a ride in a rather bizarre lift, she found herself in the education department. A kindly looking witch sat at the reception desk, and MC approached nervously. It had been a while since she had sat in a classroom, 3 years to be exact, and she had a twinge of anxiety.

"Good morning, I have a class with a Professor..." MC scanned her parchment instructions to remind herself. "...McNeath, for Magical Ancient Studies."

The older witch smiled up at her. "Ah yes, you're right on time," she said, warmly. She gave MC an apologetic look. "However, Professor McNeath has had to step down from taking the class, for personal reasons, I'm afraid. But not to worry, we have a replacement, and he is highly recommended for the role. You will now be taught by Professor Sallow, and you will be in lecture room three which is just down this hall to the left."

MC stilled, her mouth slightly parted, her fingers clutching a little tighter to her parchment letter. "I'm sorry, forgive me," she said, licking her dry lips. "You did just say, Professor Sallow, didn't you?"

"Yes, that's right," she replied. Her eyes scanned MC quickly and a worried crease appeared on her brow. "Is that a problem?"

Was it? MC felt a flutter of panic as she thought back to when she had last seen Sebastian Sallow, not long after graduation if she remembered correctly - in a bar, and they had got drunk...

They had been quite close at school, and they certainly had some dark history between them, secrets they swore they would take to their graves. But, she hadn't seen him for years. It was quite sad really how they had lost touch. She certainly hadn't known he was a professor now.

But, wasn't she getting ahead of herself here? Surely Sebastian wasn't the only living Sallow in the world, so it might not even be him. It might be some stuffy old man in a moth eaten suit for all she knew.

MC glanced down the hall in the direction the receptionist had indicated she needed to go and took a shaky breath. She managed a small smile and turned her gaze back to the witch's worried face. "No problem at all," MC said. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh, good. I can assure you, Professor Sallow is quite the gentleman," she said, relieved. She tapped an open book on the table. "Sign in here and then make your way to class. I hope you enjoy it."

MC felt her anxiety switch up a notch as she approached a pair of black double doors with a brass number three fixed on a plaque beside it. She hesitated and smoothed her palms over her hips, looking down at her smart skirt and blouse. She patted at her hair that was twisted up at the back of her head, a few loose strands softening her face.

She felt ridiculous worrying about her appearance. Why should she care? It wasn't going to be him.

But, what if it was?

There was only one way to find out. She pushed at the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the lecture room.

Immediately, she was impressed with the size of the room, the tall arched ceilings and grand mullioned windows made her think of Hogwarts. Her heels clicked on the stone flooring as she made her way past the rows of tables, students already seated with parchment and quill to hand. One wall was covered with huge, fully stocked bookcases, and nearer the front was a selection of chalk boards on wheels. Front and centre before the far wall was a large wooden desk, and behind it stood her new professor.

MC paused in her step. That was no old man in a moth eaten suit. Oh fuck! MC made a small strangled sound in her throat as her gaze swept over the tall figure of Sebastian Sallow.

He had matured into a fine looking man indeed. His hair was still a little unkempt, brunette locks tumbling above his forehead, but his shoulders had broadened rather fetchingly, and he had a pair of spectacles on as he read from a book on the desk in front of him. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his shirt a deep blue colour matched with a black vest and tie. He leant a hand against the desk, bending to pore over the book and she had a flash of memory, hours spent in the Hogwarts library with him, often by candlelight.

A memory of soft lips on her neck, warm hands on her hips...

MC cleared her throat and spotted an empty seat a few rows back and hurried towards it. She sat down and busied her hands with getting her notebook and quill ready, her fingers fumbling as she tried to open her ink.

She hadn't gone to his bed that night. It had stopped after some rather passionate kisses against her lodgings door. He had walked her home, ever the gentleman, and she had given in to her secret, desperate urges for him. Luckily, it had stopped before it got out of hand.

Luckily, or regrettably? It was an ongoing debate.

Peering across the room at Sebastian and remembering that rather fluster enducing moment had warmth creeping into her cheeks. Would he remember it? She twirled her quill in her fingers and glanced around at the other students, searching for a distraction.

There were a varied bunch of students of all ages, and MC felt a little more relaxed about that side of things. She had feared she might look out of place, but perhaps not. Her urge to return to her studies had been a strong one after two years travelling. There had been much to discover and it opened up new questions regarding ancient magical practises. She had always felt one step behind her fellow students at school having started so late, and she still felt like she had a lot to learn. Coming here to study ancient history in magic had seemed like a good place to begin, plus, she did have a head start on the subject.

Her eyes were drawn to the front of the class as Professor Sallow called for their attention, his voice a familiar sound that sent a shiver of memory through her.

Oh, for goodness sake, she was not an awkward 16 year old any longer, she was a woman grown. And, he was not a roguish teenage boy anymore with a terrible habit of making her blush, he was her professor.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and tried to focus. She was here to learn after all.

....*....

When Sebastian had scanned through the student roll before taking his first class, he had paused when his eyes fell upon one name in particular. Why was the Hero of Hogwarts taking a class here? Anticipation had thrummed through him.

He was not new to teaching, he had taught classes before, but this last minute step-in had been a great opportunity for him to work at a more advanced level. His ultimate goal was a permanent position, and this would be good experience. So, while he hadn't been particularly nervous, he had felt the tremor of apprehension as he entered his classroom for today. And it was because of her.

He hadn't seen her since she had kissed him goodnight at her door. He could still remember the feel of her in his arms, how much he had wanted more, but he had been a gentleman. He had held back. And then, the next day, she had disappeared without a word.

Now, as he stood before a class of eager students, she was sitting there at her desk, eyes on him, looking as beautiful as she always had. Pushing down the memories of how his sixteen year old self had been under the influence of a ferocious crush, he took a deep breath and got his brain in professor mode.

"Good morning, and thank you for coming to Ancient Studies class today. I am Professor Sallow, and for today's lesson we will be outlining what these classes will cover, and familiarising ourselves with the subject matter. However, let's start things off by introducing ourselves."

A collection of sighs and shuffling seats sounded throughout the room and his lips twitched up into a smirk. It was the standard reaction he had come to find. He strolled around his desk and flipped open the student register. "Let's start with Mr Abbot, shall we? Tell us, what brings you to this class today."

Following through the list, they began to introduce themselves, and it was rather a mixed bunch of people, but they all seemed keen which was a good start. When it came to MC's name on the list, he had to pause for a second to steady himself before he spoke her name aloud. When he did, there were a few muttered whispers around the room. It wasn't surprising really, her name and photo had been all over the Daily Prophet more than once.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, no need to scan the room to see who it would be to stand next. She met his gaze and for a blistering second, it could have been just them two in the room, her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink and he had to force his mouth to stay neutral. Oh, how he loved to make her blush.

"Hello, my name is MC, and some of you may recognise me from the newspaper. I have the ability to wield Ancient Magic, and I have spent the last two years travelling the world and searching out magic hotspots. I was intrigued by other magical cultures and their history, and that is what brings me to this class today."

Hearing her voice made his heart pound a little. To say he hadn't missed her would be a lie. The friendship they had forged as kids had been one he had wanted to hang to, but sadly life had got in the way. He was already intrigued to hear about her travels, his thirst for knowledge and information a constant pull, but he had to be professional. Being her professor came with a set of rules regardless of their age now. It was the department's policy.

He smiled with genuine warmth however. "Thank you, Miss MC. Welcome to my class."

....*....

Her parchment pages were filling up with notes, and she listened attentively to Professor Sallow's lesson. He was good, she realised, assured, and passionate about his subject. Glancing around at the other students, she could see she wasn't the only one caught up in his enthusiasm. She was already looking forward to getting stuck in to his suggested reading list as well.

As the class came to an end, she began to put away her things. The girl who had sat beside her smiled. "This was much better than I thought it was going to be," she said. "I'm Bella, by the way, and I must say, it was rather an honour to sit next to the Hero of Hogwarts. I graduated last summer, I was there when you saved our school."

"Oh, really?" MC smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Bella. And honestly, the whole hero thing is a little over rated. I did have some help."

"I'm sure you're just being modest," Bella said. She glanced towards the front of the class and frowned curiously. "I'm fairly sure our professor went to Hogwarts too, he looks a little familiar."

"Oh, well, yes he did," MC said. "He was in my year group in fact, although not in my House."

Her eyes brightened. "Merlin, of course! You were duelling partners in Crossed Wands! Oh, how exciting! Are you two friends?"

"Erm, no, not really. In fact, I hadn't seen Professor Sallow since school before today," she said. Her eyes skipped away from Bella's at the lie as they stood and moved towards the centre walkway.

"He is awfully handsome," she whispered. "I wish all professors looked as he does, it certainly makes for a lovely view."

"Perhaps," MC said. Her lips thinned a little. "I'm not sure it's very appropriate, though."

"Oh, of course," Bella said, quickly. A blush stained her cheeks. "Still, no harm in admiring from afar, is there? I will see you next lesson, nice to chat with you."

Bella's cheeks remained flushed as she hurried from the class, MC watching her go. The girl's words had irritated her somewhat, and she couldn't help the frown that creased her brow.

"Oh dear, my lesson wasn't that bad, was it? You look positively vexed."

Her gaze swung to meet with warm brown eyes, and an irresistible smirk. Her face relaxed. "Hello Sebas...erm, I mean, Professor," she said. Her cheeks flamed at the stumble.

His smile widened. "It's going to take some getting used to, am I right?"

"Maybe a little," she agreed. Maybe a lot. She glanced around as the students were filing out, the room almost empty now. "I think being a professor suits you. I enjoyed your class."

Seemingly pleased at her praise he held out his hand toward his desk. "Do you have a moment? I would like to show you something."

"Of course," she said.

She followed her Professor towards his large desk, her gaze wandering over his back and down towards his hips as he walked. She clutched her notebook tightly in her hands. Hadn't she just snipped at Bella for being this inappropriate? Fool.

Averting her gaze she stood before the desk as he circled around it. "I came across a book not so long ago that made me think of you," he said. He shuffled some old tomes in a pile and pulled one out. "Ah, this is the one." He held the book out to her. "This isn't on the reading list, however, I think you might find it interesting."

MC looked down at the old leather bound book. 'Ancient Magic, Truth or Myth'. She lifted her eyes to his, surprised. "Where did you get this?"

He gave her his trademark smirk. "I have my ways. You know me."

"I do, or rather I did," she said, taking the book. "It's been a while, but it's nice to hear that some things haven't changed. I shall look forward to reading it."

"Let me know what you think. I'm interested in your views on it, almost as much as I'm intrigued about your travels. You shall have to catch me up when you have the time," he said. His face took on a serious look. "In a strictly professional sense, of course."

MC stared at him across the desk and swallowed, nodding. Was that disappointment sliding through her stomach? Of course it would be in a professional sense. An exchange of views between a professor and his student. It was best to start as things were meant to go on, wasn't it?

"Of course, Sir," she said, politely. "I would be happy to."

While his face remained quietly serious, his eyes flashed with something a little more fiery when she called him sir. He nodded, his gaze flicking away for a moment, and he shuffled some parchment on his desk. "Great, well I won't keep you any longer," he said. "See you next class, Miss MC."

"Goodbye, Professor Sallow," she nodded.

It took everything in her not to look back over her shoulder as she left his lecture room.

....*....

"Ancient Egypt," Professor Sallow said. He wrote the words on his blackboard, before turning back to his class. "A fascinating culture that is filling up the Muggle newspapers at an alarming rate, archaeologists making brand new discoveries everyday while they try to understand what it all means. Has anyone here been taking an interest?"

MC glanced around the room and saw a few nods. She had definitely taken an interest and consumed every news article and pamphlet she could get her hands on. She sat, quill poised, attentive. Beside her, sat Bella, her blouse open at the throat and her eyes fixed dreamily on the professor. MC resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"There are many secrets to uncover in Egypt, and in the magical sense, a whole lot more," Professor Sallow continued. "I'd like you to open your texts to page 227 and take a look at the star charts printed there, for Egyptians were top class Astronomers and the building of their structures is no happy accident."

Once again, MC was completely engrossed in her lesson, her quill scratching out her notes as fast as her hand would allow. She even raised her hand to offer some words of her own, the professor's eyes warming when he invited her to speak.

"There has been much speculation around hidden, secret chambers beneath the Sphinx," she said. "There has been talk of enchantments concealing such secrets below the ground."

As their eyes met, his smile was one of knowing, a teasing glint in his eye as he nodded. "Indeed there is," he said. "What I wouldn't give to go snooping around in such places? Imagine the secrets you could uncover."

MC blushed, memories of sneaking about the castle at night, exploring hidden caves in the Highlands drifting through her mind. She tried to imagine doing similar things with him in the mysterious desert plains of Egypt and it made her heart flutter quickly. In the look they exchanged in those brief seconds, the memories tumbled madly, experiences shared.

As he moved on with his lecture, Bella leant in towards MC. "I thought you said you two weren't close?" She whispered.

"We're not," MC said, quickly. She wouldn't look at Bella, keeping her gaze fixed on her notes.

She heard the girl's huff of disbelief. "That was one hell of a look he gave you. I wish he looked at me like that."

"You're imagining things," she said, sighing.

MC looked at her professor, warmth gathering deep in her belly at the mere suggestion of being close with him. Her gaze lingered on those long fingered hands, the curve of his lips, and the tempting curve of his bottom as he turned to write on the blackboard.

She closed her eyes and tried to refocus. She wanted to learn, she was here for knowledge, but Professor Sallow was becoming a rather dangerous distraction.

....*....

By the fourth lesson, MC realised that she was slipping deeper and deeper into the realms of a crush. She refused to put any other name to it. It was a crush on an old school friend, nothing more.

But, my goodness, was it distracting!

When he walked past her desk, his scent lingered behind him, teasing her senses with that and the way he moved, his hands gesturing as he spoke with passion about his subject.

Her eyes followed him, as did the girl's next to her, and MC hated the bitter sting of jealousy that was coiling in her gut. Bella was clearly equally enamoured with their professor, and she found every excuse to remain after class, or get his attention.

After a lesson on magical Ancient Greek symbols, Bella was up out of her seat, adjusting her blouse just so, before sauntering off towards the professor's desk. MC gathered her things with a sour grimace at the welcoming smile Sebastian offered Bella on her approach. Ever the charming gentleman so he was.

With an assignment to write, MC made her way to the Ministry's library. It was fast becoming one of her favourite places to be. She had adored the Hogwarts library, but this one was a whole other level of perfect. The grand scale of it took her breath away, it was almost on a par with those beautiful religious buildings Muggles built centuries ago, with ornate stone columns and bookcases stretching forever in each direction, combined with intimate study spaces and comfortable seating.

She found her favourite spot and got out her things, burying her head into her books and losing herself for a couple of hours.

At the tread of soft footsteps she looked up, her cheeks immediately warming as Professor Sallow appeared beside her. He leant curiously over to see what she was working on and smiled. "Working hard I see," he said. His voice was low and soft in the quiet of the library, intimate, and it almost made her shiver.

"Well, I do have a Professor to impress," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm afraid I've gone over the word count you suggested. I'm trying to edit it down, but I'm not having much luck."

"May I?" He asked. He indicated her parchment. She nodded and slid it across to him. He reached to pick it up, his fingertips grazing her hand. MC drew a swift breath in at the touch, her eyes flicking up to his a little alarmed, as she quickly put her hand into her lap. Oh my...

There was the barest flicker of reaction on his freckled face at the touch, before he slipped on his spectacles to read her work. Her heart pounded, cheeks too warm for the cool air of the library, and she tried not to stare at him. Since when did a pair of looking glasses look so bloody sexy?

He lifted an eyebrow, impressed. "You have certainly done your research," he said. His lips quirked. "It's nice to see some things haven't changed."

A call back to her words to him after the first class. She couldn't help but smile. "All or nothing," she said.

"I see you made mention of the great fire of Alexandria," he said. He looked at her. "It's painful when you think about all those lost scrolls, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Oh, absolutely, such a tragic loss. I would have lost myself for hours in such a place."

He gazed at her thoughtfully, something deep and intriguing in his gaze. Her pulse quickened under his stare, and then he was leaning in a little closer. "Would you like to know a secret?" He whispered. As entrancing as his eyes were, her gaze nevertheless risked a peek at his whispering lips. "I'm sure I can trust you with it. It's a Ministry secret after all."

"You can trust me," she whispered. "After all, I've got secrets I've kept from the Ministry."

His gaze held hers, more memories swirling between them. He nodded and continued. "The fire at Alexandria was deliberate, and certain important scrolls and texts were removed by wizards for safe keeping."

Her eyes widened. "Where are they?"

His smirk did delicious things to her insides. "Right here, under your very feet, in the Restricted Section of this library," he whispered. She shivered. Of course there was a Restricted Section. He slid his hand into his pocket. "And the best part is, I have a key."

He pulled out a key chain and held up an ornate iron key. She stared at it, her lips curving into a smile.

"Would you like to go and take a look? I can sneak you in," he offered.

She met his gaze. "Do you really have to ask?"

....*....

They were like teenagers again, casting glances over their shoulders as he led her down a narrow curving staircase. Anticipation thrummed with her pulse and her fingers trembled as they walked quickly, but quietly along a dark corridor. How was it that she was once again, sneaking into dark, forbidden places with Sebastian Sallow? She honestly couldn't seem to help herself.

As they approached an ornate iron gate, the design similar to his key, he paused, a gentle hand on her lower back as he listened for any sound of other people.

"There's not any Peeves type poltergeist menaces down here, are there?" She asked, quietly.

He chuckled. "No, there's that at least," he said. He slipped the key into the lock. "But, we must be quiet all the same. While not forbidden, a student down here after hours is not common practise. I may be accused of favoritism."

"Hmm, very unprofessional, sir," she said, playfully. "It's a good job I'm rather good at keeping your secrets."

To her surprise his cheeks turned a little pink. He cleared his throat and pushed open the gate, it swung open silently and they entered. He closed and locked it behind them, slipping the key back into his pocket.

She was utterly at his mercy, and she realised she was alright with that. He had always meant safety to her, something she had always been grateful for.

He led her through various aisles of bookcases and shelves stacked with various curiosities. Her eyes were everywhere and they exchanged smiles of understanding.

"This must be like your own personal heaven down here," she said.

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "It certainly keeps me out of trouble."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Come on, this way," he said. Whether out of habit, or not, he took hold of her hand as they walked. His palm was warm, comforting, familiar, and she didn't pull away.

The deeper they went the heavier the silence of the place surrounded them, it was like they were in their own little world. When he showed her the ancient scrolls, she almost cried at the significance of them, her fingers trembling to be able to touch such rare and important items.

"Merlin," she gasped. "I cannot believe it. Scrolls, from the Great Library of Alexandria! I must be dreaming!"

"You and me both," he said, softly.

She looked up at him, the air evaporating from her lungs at the way he was looking at her. Soft, but so very flammable. He reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, and then her lungs seemed to be working double time, desperate to draw in enough oxygen to keep up with her thudding heart.

Her lips parted without thought as his mouth lowered to hers. The softness of his kiss making her eyes flutter closed. He tasted of whiskey and peppermint, he smelled like home, and she melted into his touch as his hands grazed her waist.

As he deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking at her lips, she welcomed him, moaning softly. His grip tightened at her waist and her hands were in his hair, grazing at the tender flesh of his neck.

Their feet were moving and she felt the press of a bookcase up against her back, his mouth found her neck, hot and teasing. Her breaths sounded loud to her own ears but she was powerless to stop herself from sliding down this slippery slope.

"Sebastian," she whispered. It was a plea, an expression of her desire for him.

His face lifted to hers, his forehead resting against her own. "Call me Sir," he groaned.

Heat pierced through her core and her thighs clenched tightly. She stared into those deep brown eyes, drowning in them. "Yes, sir," she breathed.

He devoured her, pressing his hips into her eagerly, crushing her against the ancient books. His tongue fought for dominance and she let him win, his kiss deep, hungry and possessive.

His hands slid lower, gripping her hips, fingers sliding to tease her backside. She moaned into his mouth, her hips rolling eagerly towards him. Gods, she wanted him, all restraint withering under his touch. As she rocked against him, she felt the hard nudge of his arousal through their clothing, and both of them gasped.

He stilled, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Gods...MC..." His voice was tight, strained. "Forgive me," he whispered.

Reluctantly, he moved back away from her, breathing hard. Her fingers dragged over his shoulders, aching as he slipped from her grip. He turned to adjust his trousers, getting control of himself.

"It's alright," she panted.

"I shouldn't be taking advantage of you like that," he said. He turned to meet her gaze. "It could get us both into trouble. I'm sorry."

She bit her lower lip. Disappointment flooded through her, but she understood, no matter how hard it was. Her body ached for him, need so hot and desperate she was practically throbbing with it. She couldn't help herself, her lips lifted into a teasing smirk.

"Look at you sticking to the rules," she said. "I'm impressed...Sir."

His expression was pained. "Don't..."

She straightened, smoothing her hands over her clothing and patting her hair. "Sorry, Sir," she said. She gave him a sweet smile. "I promise to be a good girl from now on."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't do that," he warned. "Don't tease me."

"Whatever do you mean?" She stared at him, her eyes wide and almost innocent. "Now, I thought you brought me down here to see forbidden ancient scrolls, Sir. Shall we continue?"

His jaw clenched and his throat worked, but he nodded. He gestured towards where the scrolls were. "Of course," he said.

As they finished up and snuck back out of the Restricted Section, MC couldn't help the flutter of anticipation for their next class. She would be sure to smile sweetly and call him Sir, knowing what secrets lurked in the dark between them.

To be continued... Part Two

[magicalqueennightmare]

Not Exactly Babysitting

Warnings: its the boys so I mean cursing, vulgar language, sex, violence

Reader has a nickname/supe name of Blaze due to her power being pyrokinesis

Butcher calls you for a favor.

NSFW content

"Luv, I need a favor and it's a big un" why did you answer the call? Why when the moment you saw Butcher's name you didn't stomp on the damn phone and act like you'd fallen off the face of the earth? Because you were a supe,your mother having decided to let her newborn be shot up with compound v as part of an experiment. Anything for a check.

Butcher would've heard if a supe was found dead, especially if it was one with pyrokinesis. He tended to keep a check on you. Or well he got MM and Frenchie to keep a check on you. "What is it now Billy?" He was the only person you knew who would be thrown off more by you calling him by his first name then his last. "I just need you to keep an eye on someone for me. I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. This can help us take down that cunt homelander once and for all"

Fuck he knew that was one way to get you on board with any dumbass plan he'd cooked up. You wanted Homelander's head on a pike as much as he did but you weren't strong enough to take him on. "God dammit Butch" you mumbled and could practically hear the grin in his voice when he said "attagirl. I'll text you the address. Get here soon"

You hung up the phone hearing your text alerts ding. You weren't surprised to see the address was some two bit hotel. How the hell had you ever gotten dragged into Butcher?

As you drove you remembered the first time you laid eyes on William Butcher. It was about three years after his wife had been killed or assumed killed as you later learned. You'd just gotten cleared from a supe medical center.

You'd been approached about the seven and turned it down. Homelander hadn't been appreciative of that. Even with your healing and strength he'd nearly killed you. Vought had deemed it an accident of course and threatened to not "intervene on your behalf with the law" considering You'd destroyed half a city block with fire during the attack.

When Butcher approached you he offered one thing, revenge on every damn supe who saw themselves as above the law, as something more than just people who'd been shot up with drugs.

------------

Somewhere along the line you'd fallen in bed with him more than once. The first time you were both drunk off your asses, celebrating taking down a rogue supe. The things that damn man could do with his tongue would curl your fucking toes.

After that he'd sworn it was a one time thing. Until the next time the two of you were alone, within five minutes of Frenchie leaving the safe house Billy's fingers had been buried inside of you pushing you over that edge and praising you for how gorgeous you were and how tight your cunt was. Needless to say MM hadn't spoken a word to either of you for the following week when he walked in to you bouncing on Butcher's cock.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts, loosening your grip on the steering wheel enough to realize it had small scorch marks on it. Thankfully you'd paid for full coverage when you rented it. You checked your phone to see you weren't but half an hour out. There was no guessing just what awaited you.

You rolled up and cursed the moment you saw Butcher with Hughie in tow. If it was just the two of them? It was an enormously stupid idea but you were already here now, might as well see what it was right?

You slowly climbed out the car glaring at Butcher as you said "Hey Hughie. How's Annie?" He seemed a bit uncomfortable but still replied "She's um she's good" you knew something was up but took him at his word before turning your attention to Butcher "So I'm here. What's the job?" He grinned "Blaze, looking gorgeous as always" you rolled your eyes so he motioned to the stairs behind him "Follow me luv"

You took a deep breath then fell in step next to him "Where's Frenchie and MM?" "Slight difference of opinion but they'll get over it when we take down Homelander" you had a bad feeling that only worsened when he opened the door leading into room two twenty three.

Sitting on the bed was none other than the original supe, the one everyone had long assumed dead. Soldier Boy. You cut your eyes at Butcher "You mother fucker. What did you do?"

You could feel Soldier Boy's eyes on you but didn't look in his direction. You'd heard plenty about him and had seen all the propaganda they'd done with him back in the day. What didn't add up was how was he still so damn young, why was he working with Butcher and where had he been to make Vought announce to the world that he'd been killed?

"You remember Frenchie texting you about Russia?" Yeah you'd been on the west coast and couldn't get back to help in enough time. "Yeah but I thought it was a botched thing considering he also texted me that Kimiko was healing from it"

Butcher waved a hand towards Soldier Boy who'd stood off the bed, staring at you as he asked "Who's this?" You turned to face the man and had to admit he was fucking gorgeous. You'd seen photos and videos but damn they didn't do him justice. He was about Butcher's height, broad shoulders with emerald green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose spreading over the top of his cheeks.A smirk snuck onto his face when he realized he had your attention "What's it to you?" You quickly snapped at him trying to hide your initial attraction.

----------

He wasn't a good guy. You knew he wasn't a good guy. "Oh she's feisty. Damn Butcher why did you hide her this long?" Butcher reached out and grabbed your wrist that was closest to him and it was only then you noticed the flames dancing between your fingertips "Oui sweetheart, since when are your powers so touchy?"

Hughie and Soldier Boy alike were looking at your hand. "Y/N, you good?" Hughie asked and you cut your eyes at him "I'm fine" you flexed your fingers effectively extinguishing the flames before asking Butcher again "What's the damn job?" "Me and Hughie have to run down some leads. Soldier Boy here can't be left alone that long. Too many gunning for him and he ain't exactly used to life the way it is nowadays" "Plus he's um radioactive" Hughie added nervously.

You glared at Butcher shaking your head slowly "Fuck you. I'm not babysitting a supe that's old enough to be my father if not my grandfather and ten times as powerful as me who happens to also be fucking radioactive!" You made it to the door and was about to storm when Butcher said "He can burn the compound v out of Homelander."

You turned back to face him looking towards Soldier Boy "Can he actually do that?" "It's what Kimiko is healing from" Hughie replied. "And you'll help us kill that bastard?" This time your questioned was aimed at Soldier Boy "I'm a man of my word. Me and Butcher have a deal"

You sighed, purposely knocking your head against the door as you did so "How long?" "Two days" you looked up at Soldier Boy "I might not be able to kill you but make a move I don't like and I will burn your fucking dick off, got it?" He seemed amused by your threats but nodded nonetheless "Yes ma'am"

You'd gotten to the hotel around noon, Butcher left around three. It was now ticking towards midnight and the tension in the room was beginning to strangle you.

Empty food cartons, a few soda bottles and a half empty bottle of bourbon sat scattered around the room from both of you making efforts to not have to converse. You were sitting cross legged on the sofa in the room doing your best to ignore the man who kept glancing your way during his spouts of how much time had changed.

You half laughed considering you were reading on a kindle. When he'd asked what it was and you told him just how many books in total it could hold he had looked at you like you'd grown a second head. Rather it being that you were reading for amusement or the technology side you weren't sure. He was holding to his word to not come close to you but a bit of the old fashioned misogyny kept peeking out every now and then during his ranting.

After a minute you figured fuck it, why not poke at the radioactive supe who could probably survive you lighting him on fire five times over. Butcher had told you the basics of his story, betrayal of his team and what not.

You turned your kindle off and stood to walk across the room to your duffel bag. You'd discarded your jeans in favor of cloth shorts and the shirt you'd been wearing for one that you honestly weren't sure where it came from. It'd seemingly appeared in your laundry rotation and was comfortable so you kept it. You knew you'd be forced to stay here and while the couch wasn't the most comfortable thing you would at least dress the part.

---------

"So should I call you Y/N or Blaze?" He asked and you glanced over your shoulder seeing his eyes were lingering on the tattoos that littered the bare skin of your legs. "Either or. Fuck I've been calling you Soldier Boy for hours. What the hell is your real name after all?"

He raised his eyes back to yours as he took another swig of bourbon "Ben" you nodded approvingly "Ben. Good name, points for the fact that it's extremely moanable" you had to stifle your laugh when he nearly choked on his drink. God it was kind of funny that you could catch him off guard so easily.

"Take a breath. Just saying do you know how awkward some names are? I mean guy can be fuckin gorgeous, hitting it just right but if his name is something like Wesley? Kills the mood moaning that. Ben is something light that would slip out easy" he watched you walk back over to the couch and you could see the wheels turning behind those green eyes.

"So what's the story with you and Butcher?" He asked after a minute. Your surprise showed on your face so he shrugged "I notice things darling. It's apparent you two have rolled around a few times. He doesn't seem to like supes too damn much despite the circumstances and choices he's making so how'd he end up bedding one like you?"

You shrugged that time before saying "He's good with his tongue, fingers are extremely nimble and his dicks a good size nice and thick but not too long that it would hurt" "So you a couple?" You couldn't help but laugh "That's a no. See Ben nowadays us women can fuck who we wanna without settling down. We have iuds, multiple forms of birth control and a few different types of condom"

-----------

"I bet you would be one helluva fuck" he gave you an appreciative once over so you gave him a smile "Oh honey, you may be a stronger supe than me but you're a lot older than me too. I may end up hurting you" "You saying Butcher's a better fuck than you think I'd be?" He seemed so insulted by the idea it was almost humorous, almost. Had it not been for the weight of his gaze making heat pool in your lower stomach.

You let a flame flicker across the fingers of your right hand as you held his gaze "Just saying women nowadays know what we like and what we don't. I've brought Butcher to his knees before. You're a supe, yeah compound V is pumping through your veins but a man's a man. The reason I've fucked Butcher is I'm always in control of what happens. He doesn't make a move without checking if I'm cool with it"

He nodded slowly "So you like being in charge?" You shook your head "Not as much in charge as being able to trust my dancing partner wouldn't step on toes and ask before he tries any lifts" "A real man knows not to take anything that a woman isn't offering fully to him and if she changes her mind that's her choice" fuck you hadn't expected that answer out of someone like him.

"Are we talking here or are you trying to fuck me because I'm getting mixed vibes" he barked out a laugh at your words. "Damn Y/N, I see why Butcher likes you" you shook your head with a laugh "I think it's time we call it a night. You got enough of those horse tranqs to pop so I don't have to worry about getting fried if anything decides to pop into your subconscious?" He shrugged "Yeah there's enough. I'm gonna finish this bottle first though. You need any precautions to feel safe enough to sleep around me"

You held his eyes for a moment before standing up. He seemed unsure as to what you were doing, when you got over to the bed he raised an eyebrow and when you reached for his hand he let you. You laid it on the thigh of your left leg using your hand to guide his fingertips across the scars hidden beneath the ink "I couldn't heal this. I took a shotgun blast to the fuckin chest from half a foot away and not a scratch but this? I can't heal. I sleep alone because the last time I shared a bed with someone overnight I nearly burnt him alive, Butcher forgave me of course considering why but believe me when I say you'd be the least of my nightmares no matter how dangerous I know you are"

He gripped your thigh firmly but not enough for it hurt "That why you're gunning for this Homelander prick?" You nodded "I'm going to sleep" he motioned to the bed "Take the bed at least. I'm good on the couch"

You tossed and turned, trying to talk your mind into sleeping. Ben was watching some movie but he'd moved the television so your half of the room was in mostly darkness and had the volume low. Of course you could still hear it but you appreciated the thought. He was still an abrasive, old timey misogynistic asshole but he was a bit more human than Homelander or it seemed so at least.

You could feel the heat in the room on every inch of your body. Had you been home or even in a safehouse with the boys you would've stripped down to your sports bra and panties but you didn't want to put on a full strip tease for him.

----------

You weren't sure how much time had passed when Ben cleared his throat "Do you need one of the tranqs? Or a shot of liquor, something?" You sat up smoothing a hand over your hair and was able to bite back something snarky but your reply was caught in your throat.

After he'd showered he hadn't bothered to throw a shirt back on. Meaning he was sitting on the couch in just Grey sweats. His hair was falling forward over his eyes in places and God damn just how broad was that mother fucker? He looked like he took up most of the couch.

He looked towards you and a crooked smirk slipped onto his face "Y/N...Blaze...you good?" You didn't know why but instead of coming up with an answer you let the truth fall from your lips "You may be an asshole but you are fucking sexy as hell" he laughed lightly and even that sound was deep enough it made your stomach flip. Fuck, were you horny? Was that why you couldn't sleep?

"I guess I should say thank you at least? Still don't answer if you need something?" You swallowed the answer you wanted to give which was along the lines of "Please ruin me" God damn when had you gotten so pent up?

You shook your head "What are you watching?" He shrugged "I don't fuckin know. Just some shit that came on while I was in the shower" you shoved the blanket off and walked across the room, nearly doubling in laughter when you realized fucking Soldier Boy had scrolled through the channels and landed on fifty shades of Grey.

"Oh this movie and the books were horrible" you moved to sit on the couch so he sat up a little straighter teasing "Don't want my dick burnt off after all" when you cut your eyes at him.

You curled up on the cushion, not missing how close his bare shoulder was to you or how much heat was radiating off him. "Is it a by product of the actual radiation or have you always ran hot?" You asked and he glanced at you "Have always ran hot" you nodded, trying to pay attention to the God awful movie but it's like there was a magnet drawing you towards him. It was a bad idea, a horrible idea really.

He kept his eyes on the TV as he spoke "I'm just gonna throw this out there Y/N but if you want to touch me anywhere feel free" you felt your face warm up and this time it didn't have a damn thing to do with your powers "What do you mean?" He turned towards you slightly, almost touching you in the process "You've been staring at my chest. Your hand is close enough that if you barely move it'll be on my shoulder. If you want to touch me, do it."

You weren't sure if it was the underlying challenge or the promise that he held in his eyes for at the very least one helluva good time that pushed you into motion.

You reached a hand out to run across his chest, tracing his muscles and testing the water. When he didn't move, simply followed your movement with his eyes you smiled to yourself "Ben?" He met your eyes "Hmm?" "Do you want to touch me?"

He raised an eyebrow "This you saying you want me to touch you?" Fuck it, this was a dangerous game you were playing but you'd ran with the boys for years. It's not like you planned for the long time so might as well have a good time, right?

You braced your hands on his shoulders before swinging your legs across his lap to be straddling him. He watched you silently, those damn green eyes tracking your smallest movement. You could feel the way his body quickly reacted to you, his cock hardening underneath you. Fuck, he was thick and had a good length too. The thought occurred to you that he'd been locked away in Russia a very long time.

----------

A light groan left him when you rolled your hips just slightly against his. "Tell me what you want here doll?" His voice was so damn deep it rumbled through your chest. You leaned close enough that your lips were just shy of touching his "I want to see if you can make me scream your name or if you're all talk" he didn't respond instead he simply gripped the back of your head pulling you into a kiss that was all tongue and teeth that left you breathless when he pulled away to look you in the eye "If anything is too much burn me if you have to so you can get the point across"

You nodded pulling him back into the kiss. You felt his hands slip under your shirt and a light shiver ran through your body at how his rough hands felt on your skin. A gasp left your lips when he stood up suddenly, supporting your weight with one hand under your ass. "I need more room than that damn couch" "Promises, promises" you muttered and he gave you a grin that couldn't be described as anything but devilish. No wonder there were numerous tales of people selling their soul, if Lucifer looked anything like the man holding you.

He dropped you on the bed causing you to bounce twice with the force. You glared up at him "Could've been a little easier" he shrugged "What, are you already gonna tap out just because I dropped you on the bed instead of placing you gently?"

You leaned back on the palms of your hands looking up at him "Are you already tapping out because you're afraid you may rank lower than Butcher?" "Oh I'm gonna make you regret that one Y/N"

He climbed onto the bed, you could feel it dip under his weight but your eyes were glued to his "Anything off the table?" "No anal and if you try any slapping shit I'll light your ass up" he grinned "Sounds good to me. Gonna take that damn shirt off?" You reached for the hem of your shirt but his larger hands covered yours, helping to remove the piece of fabric from your body.

You felt a little too bare until he let his lips trail down your neck then across your chest. He licked one nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. You couldn't help the moan that escaped you or the way your back arched into him. He let his other hand trail across your stomach, causing you to inhale sharply when his fingertips dug into your hips about the same time he bit down just hard enough to cause a scream to escape you.

When he pulled away from your breasts he smiled up at you "Still in for this? Cause right now you're looking like you're all talk.." you could tried to press your thighs together,not only to soothe the ache starting there but in an attempt to hide just how soaked you already were from kissing and light petting.

You pulled him up to your lips, kissing him roughly before taunting "says the man who's barely touched me" at your words the hand that bad been teasing at your hip moved to pull your shorts off your legs. You lifted your hips just enough to ensure he didn't rip the shorts getting them off of you. When you were completely bare to him he sat back on his heels. "What?" You asked, moving to cover yourself but he was faster, pinning your arms down over your head "Let me look at you Y/N. Damn it's been years since I had a woman as gorgeous as you underneath me"

You rolled your eyes but before you could think of a comeback any words were ripped from your mind by one thick finger slipping through your folds. He easily found your clit, teasing at it. You moaned at the sensation causing him to add a second digit. He curled them both up,hitting that spot inside of you "I'm gonna fuck you with my fingers, then with my tongue then if you think you can take more I'll use my cock. That sound good princess?" You nearly whimpered, the feeling of that knot in your stomach growing tighter with every movement of his fingers.

Just as you'd nearly reached that peak he stopped his movements. "Ben!" You whined and his laughter hit your ears "I asked you a question" you swallowed hard, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. He leaned over to kiss your thigh before beginning to move his fingers again "It sounds good. It sounds good" you panted worried he'd stop again when you could already feel the pleasure building "Good cause I want to feel you cum however many times I can"

He went silent attacking your neck and chest with open mouthed kisses and light bites. You were like putty in his hands when you finally came. You laid there trying to catch your breath only to feel his hands spreading your thighs.

When he first licked into you a cry escaped your lips. It was too fast after an orgasm, you were too over stimulated and dear God what the fuck was he doing with his tongue?

You didn't want to praise him, didn't want to let his name escape you as a moan but when he locked his lips around your clit his name slipped from your lips like a fucking prayer "Fuck Ben. Feels so good" you felt him smile against you right before another orgasm washed over you without warning.

----------

The bastard kept going even after you soaked his beard and the bed underneath you. You shoved at his head "Enough. Enough" he gave one final kiss to your clit before crawling back uo your body "Where's that girl that was talking shit about me being an old man?"

You groaned pulling him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips "I take it back, you're pretty good with your fingers and your mouth" "Oh i must have lost a few steps. You're still talking shit" you glanced down between the two of you, seeing he still had his sweats on "I must have lost a few cause you're still wearing pants"

He rolled his hips against yours when he kissed you pulling a moan from you at the feeling of his clothed erection rutting into you "Are you gonna fuck me or just tease the shit out of me?" He gripped your hips suddenly and flipped both of you where his back was down to the bed and you were on top of him "You want my pants off? Take em off"

You weren't one to back down from a challenge so you kissed him one more time, savoring how he chased your lips when you moved away. You kissed down his neck, tentatively biting the places that made his breathing quicker. You were rewarded with a deep groan and his grip on your hips tightening.

You moved further down kissing across his chest,letting your nails tease the skin there as well. When you got to the waistband of his sweats you left a kiss on the smooth expanse of hip that was peeking out already. You reached a hand under his sweats, feeling his hard cock react to your touch the moment your fingers grazed across it.

You held his eyes as you pulled at the pants and he eagerly lifted his hips off the bed to assist you. You knew your eyes had widened when his cock sprung free. Fuck he was big, almost too big in length and a delicious girth.

You licked a strip from the base of his cock up to the head. "Fuck Y/N" hearing your name fall from his lips spurred you on. You knew you couldn't take all of him but that wasn't gonna stop you from trying. You wrapped your lips around his cock slowly going down, you gagged slightly when you felt the tip hit the back of your throat.

You pulled back up repeating the motion twice, taking more of him in each time. You used your hand to give the rest of him and his balls attention, carefully rolling them between your finger. Hearing someone that you knew was as powerful as Soldier Boy being a moaning mess under your touch? Well a girl could have a worse means of a confidence boost.

----------

"Y/n...blaze..." Ben reached for your hand. You pulled up from his cock with a wet pop to look at him "What's wrong?" He shook his head with a grin playing on his lips "Feels too damn good darling. I ain't fucked nothing in years and my stamina is good but I'll be damned if I'm coming anywhere but in that tight little pussy of yours" you laughed lightly kissing your way back up his body until you were effectively straddling him. "Then by all means let me oblige you" you lifted up slightly feeling his hard length poking at your thigh. You gripped him tightly before bringing him to your entrance.

He reached for your face, pushing the hair back of out it so he could watch your eyes as you lowered yourself onto his cock. You had to go slow, taking him in little by little but once he was finally completely inside of you, your hips flush against his you knew he felt the full body shiver you had. You couldn't hide it. He was so damn big and filled you completely.

You gave him a strained smile "Give me a second" he pulled you forward to kiss across your chest "I get it baby. It's a lot to take" you would've slapped him for the condescending tone had he not shifted his hips slightly as he spoke. "God damn you" you muttered, bracing a hand on his chest.

He shot you a smirk "What's wrong?" You moved your hips in a small circle, feeling that the pain from being stretched out had given way to the pleasurable feeling of being so damn full. "Nothing" you finally replied starting to roll your hips. His eyes fluttered shut as you started to bounce, fucking yourself on his cock.

"Attagirl. Holy shit" he was mumbling under his breath, gripping your hips tightly. He started to bring his hips up to meet every movement of yours. Your nails were cutting into his chest but neither of you cared "Fuck I'm close Ben" you moaned so he moved one hand between the two of you, fingers quickly finding your clit to rub tight circles on it "Come for me Y/N. Let me feel that perfect pussy squeeze my cock"

Between the movement of your hips, driving him deeper inside of you than you'd ever thought possible and the movement of his fingers it wasn't long before you were seeing stars. The third orgasm of the night washing over you.

He eased you down against his chest, holding you to it as he turned you both back over. His cock never slipped out of you. "This ain't fair, I've came three times already" you mumbled weakly. He chuckled, catching your lips in a kiss "Oh darling if it ain't at least a five to one thing then I need to head back to Russia and let em put me on ice. Best part is seeing the woman you're with falling apart" he nipped your neck over your pulse point "Especially seeing one as strong as you fall apart"

-----------

He began to rock his hips against yours, painfully slow thrusts that had tears forming in the corner of your eyes because even after three orgasms your body was screaming for more. "Ben..uh fuck...please" he leaned down enough to catch your lips in a messy kiss "Please what Princess? Use your words"

"Fuck me hard Ben. I need it. Please" "Never would pegged you for the begging type" he teased so you glared up at him "Butcher never makes me beg" the moment the words left your mouth he pulled your legs up to his broad shoulders nearly folding you in half.

The new angle meant with every snap of his hips he was hitting that spot that made you see stars. Your eyes were screwed shut, riding out the pleasure that borderlined pain the most delicious of ways. "Uh uh uh. Eyes open Y/N" you opened your eyes as his thrusts slowed just enough to bring you back from that edge "The fuck?" "I want to see those eyes when you come on my cock. I want you to see me fucking you"

You forced your eyes to stay open as he pounded into you, catching your lips in a frenzied kiss. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer as that knot within you threatened to burst "Ben..oh fuck.." you moaned as the knot burst, orgasm washing over you, lighting your entire body on fire. You had to look where you were connected to Ben to ensure the pleasure hadn't caused your powers to topple out.

----------

He worked you through your orgasm then pulled out causing you to whine at the loss of contact "Turn over" those two words quickly reignited that fire in your stomach. You did as he asked and the moment you were on your stomach he used one hand to pull you up to your knees, pushing your upper half down on the mattress "You still with me here Y/N?" You nodded but felt a warm kiss on your shoulder before he bit down "Verbal answer darling. I need to hear it"

"Still with you" you panted before adding "and that's four" you could practically feel the smile on his face when he nipped at your neck "Means one more and I can fill this pretty little pussy up"

When he slid back into you, the feeling was nearly overwhelming. He chuckled darkly "Your poor little pussy is nearly fucked out. Almost too swollen to take me" he snapped his hips forward drilling into you to the point you could feel his tight balls slapping against your ass "Almost"

A string of curses mixed with his name left you as he pulled you up until your back was against his chest "God damn I can feel you throbbing around me. You already close again?" You nodded weakly so he left a kiss on your neck then leaned you back forward where your hands could grip the headboard. "Good cause I'm about to fuckin bust here" he admitted reaching one hand under you to play with your clit as his thrusts got even harder and faster "Just need to feel you come one more time"

You could feel the warmth spreading throughout you again as you gripped the headboard trying to ride out the feeling "Fuck.." a broken cry escaped you as your fifth orgasm of the night washed over you. His hips didn't slow any, working himself towards that release. "Come for me Ben, please fill me up" you begged and your words mixed with how tight your walls were squeezing him pushed him over that edge.

He nearly collapsed as he spilled deep inside of you, coating your walls with his cum. "God damn" he muttered before pulling out and collapsing next to you. "You good?" He asked breathlessly, pushing your hair back so he could see your face "I'm good" he nodded then glanced up and started laughing "What?" "Bed's not"

You followed his line of sight and saw scorch marks on the headboard where your hands had gripped "Shit" he shrugged "Can always say you tried to scorch me but I got out the way. Don't worry Butcher will never know"

You were half asleep when you felt a warm rag between your legs "Shh, just cleaning you up a bit until you're up for a shower" "Thanks" you managed to slur out.

After Ben cleaned you and himself he walked back out of the bathroom "Do I still need to take the couch?" You raised your hand enough to flip him out causing a loud laugh to escape him.

You felt the bed dip next to you before his head leaned over on your back "You a cuddler?" You asked in shock. He shook his head "hoping if I'm close enough you may want one more round when you wake up" "Go to hell Ben" you replied feeling his hand slide around to play at your nipples "If this is the ticket to hell I've done a hell of a lot worse"

The next day you were freshly showered with your duffle repacked when Butcher called to see if you needed anything before he got back to the hotel.

You and Ben had ended up going for another round in the bed and once in the shower. Luckily he hadn't left any marks that couldn't be covered with clothes because most of your body was littered with light bruising from his lips and teeth.

He watched you talk to Butcher then when you hung up he raised an eyebrow "Lover boy almost back?" You rolled your eyes "He's about twenty minutes out" he let his eyes slide across your body "I could make you cum one more time"

You shook your head "If it weren't for the advance healing I'd be barely walking as is" he nodded "We could make out till we hear that shitty car?"

You shrugged "Why not" Ben was across the room with you in his arms and your legs wrapped around his waist the moment you agreed.

----------

"He give ya any trouble?" Butcher asked standing next to your rental car. You shook your head "No more than you usually do" he nodded "Could I call ya if we need any more help on this job?"

You shrugged "Try to make things right with MM and Frenchie then maybe you can call me for more help on this job"

His eyes flickered down towards your lips and you laughed lightly "I said help on the job Billy" "Yeah yeah yeah" he replied leaving a kiss on your cheek before heading back into the hotel.

Not Exactly Lying

[thefuseoftemptation]

maybe for the lost boys you could do how they’d teach y/n how to drive? maybe headcannons

oh, OH.

THE LOST BOYS X GN!READER

WARNING(S): cussing, the use of y/n (just bc I know some of us prefer when it’s not used so here’s a warning) I typed this out in under half an hour so if there’re typos, then you know why. NOT PROOFREAD.

—

they'll be teasing you for not knowing how.

Whether you just ask one of them or you go to all of them, they'll show you, but they'll show you their way.

and let's just get it out there, Dwayne is the one to go to when it comes to learning.

He's also the one who's got more of a understanding when it comes to rules.

you ask Marko or Paul? you might as well be making your own bed, man.

And David? I mean sure, but c'mon, think about it, it's David.

and there's many scenerios at which this could go too so-

but I'll put how each of them would be and then the further we go, I'll put how it'll be if all of them were showing you at the same time....which is never something to be heard in the same sentence.

David

let's say for the scenerio w David, while he (or more so all the boys) knew you didn't know how to drive, you still went to one of the others and asked if they could teach you.

and while he never showed it, why were you asking them and not him?

like the guy would legit be taken back (but not show it) that you had gone to Paul to teach you

Paul? Really?!!

but let's be for real, asking David to teach you to drive is like asking your parent.....if y'know, Y'KNOW

you may as well have not gone to the boys in the first place if if this were case

if anything, he more likely makes you come to him rather you go to him on your own terms.

for this, he probably told the boys to step back just so you could go up to him later on

"David..."

"We'll start in a few."

He more likely tells you how to go about driving rather than show you.....if that makes sense.

Like he'll sit back, stare ahead and just tell you what to do rather than being more hands on and guiding you through every step

which is very very annoying bc you need a little more than that, David

Though he is one of the boys to tell you about safety and all that stuff everyone talks about

you get behind the wheel? you better have that goddamn seatbelt on. even though he himself doesn't have it on.

while he never outwardly shows his concern, it's there. so you get in and try putting the keys in before your seatbelt's on? He's going to tell you something.

"Unless your looking to be head first through that windshield, I suggest you put your seatbelt on. Or I could just turn you now and we won't to worry about that...."

Hence you putting your seatbelt on while giving him a side eye.

expect to have a few alot of disagreements about standard procedures/rules when it comes to being on the road

"I'm not going to go, David. I don't have the right away!"

"Y/N asked me to teach you, so I'm teaching you. So turn."

"I did not ask you!" you did, but he wasn't your go to.

or

"Stay to your side."

"I am on my side."

"No, your steering into this lane."

"I'm in my own goddamn lane!"

cue you swerving bc you were in fact, in the said lane he'd been referring to.

"Told you."

and though you hadn't been looking forward to it, David isn't all that bad at teaching you.

Dwayne

he's the go to.

Dwayne is the go to when it comes to certain things, and in this case, it's driving.

he's even the go to when your riding with them. while you like taking turns between all your boys sometimes, not dying, is preferred.

plus, when you ride with Dwayne, it gives you the opportunity to feel his exposed torso.

the guy is shirtless all the time, what do you expect? only someone in the right mind would think the same thing

and like David, he will tell you to put your seatbelt on. but it's more of a reminder than telling.

He'll probably put his on himself

Even if he isn't exactly the most ideal example since he and the boys are always breaking rules, being on the road isn't excluded. He speeds and cuts others off just as much as they do, he just doesn't do it as often as them. He still wants to make sure he can be an example when you're around at least.

afterall you're just a mere person. you're not like them....yet.

and though he isn't much of a talker, he'll be one when it comes to this

you're sure this is the most he's spoken in the time you've known each other.

Dwayne is very hands on when it comes to this, and is nothing like David when it comes to telling you when you're doing something you're not supposed to or when your lacking in a certain department.

it's definitely his tone, man.

"just keep the wheel still, you're steering into this lane a little...."

and it's in the lowest voice ever, almost in a whisper before he gently guides your hands to steady the wheel.

you learn a lot with him in one session than you do with the others in one week.

Paul

m'sorry but anyone in their right mind shouldn't be going to a guy like Paul when it comes to teaching you how to drive.

It's Paul.

that should be enough of an explanation in itself.

but to be real, he's probably not that bad of a teacher.

sure, when you'd asked him something, he didn't even know the answer to, he at least learned it with you as you went. even if it may have almost got you guys hit and possibly even broken a law, at least you guys knew.....now.

just don't tell David or Dwayne. they'll have his head.

he's very laid back when it comes to anything, this isn't excluded.

like Dwayne, in a way, he sort of just reminds you, when he’s not forgetting himself.

he doesn't tell you like David would, he just sort of waves it off or shrugs when you make a mistake like hit the curb.

it's comforting yet concerning bc man, this is safety and I shouldn't be hitting the curb to begin with.

it's one thing when he was showing you how to ride his bike, not that it's ever come to you using it or any of them (he was just simply showing you), but it's a whole other thing with him showing you how to drive a vehicle.

the boys attention goes from one thing to another.

one moment he's telling you where to go and the next, he's asking what button does what before pressing it or even pressing on the horn.

"Paul, would you stop that!" you say for the umpteenth time.

"Fine." cue him turning up the volume to the a radio before going on to press something else.

let's just say it's too much with him sitting next to you sometimes.

Marko

it's an uncetainty w this one bc you're not sure how he's going to be or what he'll say to you during the time.

you've seen how he is on his bike alone so you weren't sure why you were questioning yourself when you asked him....

out of all the boys, Marko is the one whose temper doesn't last

I'm saying that in "you keep asking or making him repeat the same question/answers, it’ll set him off," sort of way but also in a "if someone pulls some nonsense on you while your driving, that's it," sort of way.

he doesn't put up with that in general much less, on the road, what makes you think he's going to tolerate it when your in the vehicle with him?!

And put you being behind the wheel and someone cuts you off or honks bc you're going too slow (you're learning), he's going to be pushing on that horn so quick.

not to mention sticking his head out the window to cuss the person out

let's just say you had to press on the pedal more than once when he told you to pull over so he could let them have it.

It never meant that. it always ends up w someone else on a missing flyer

sometimes it's over little stuff too

like if it was your fault, he'll still argue that they were the cause

"Marko, it wasn't even them, I mean I was-"

"They should know though! It's just basic common sense!"

"How is it basic common sense when they don't know it's my first time on the road and I'm still learning? It's not like there's a sign they could see that tells them 'hey, I'm new, go easy!'

"Still!"

He gets annoyed that you defend someone else over something you did.

He's not a bad teacher per say, he's just one you prefer not having on the road especially when you're still new to it all.

all of them

m'sorry but make your bed already. there's no way of you making out of there

it's one thing to go to one of them and ask but to have all of them in the same space with you, and on the road for god sakes!

let's be real though, in this scenerio you probably did go to one of them and then the rest just took it upon themselves to come

or

it could be that you already got your license and are taking them for a ride

again, make your bed. why would you even think of that?

back to where I was though

they're all in that car with you, it's going to be a lot.

David is going to be in the front. no matter what.

Paul didn’t just get a foot to his behind for nothing

the rest of the boys are in the back, if there's even room for them back there

you got three out of four there, two of which are tall, there's going to have to be some leg space

I see it like this, Dwayne and Marko probably take to the sides, by the windows, while Paul is seated in the middle

it becomes too much bc let's face it, you got four boys in the car with you. four boys....think about that.

it's only when David finally says something that they sit down

and god, you really wished he would've said something sooner if it got them like this

—

feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

[slxsherwriter]

The Big Wheel Groans

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: None, hints of future Rusty x female reader

Word count: 3, 127

Warnings: Mentioned of parental death

Author's note: Rusty has taken a permanent residence in my brain. Waffled back and forth a few times on how innocent the reader would actually be. I think Rusty would do well with this polite, naive little thing. Bonus points to anyone who gets the title reference. May explain how I'm viewing these two.

Cigarettes, stale coffee, and greasy bacon. The scent was an immediate assault as soon as the door opened. Most would find it off-putting, but to you? To you, it brought up fond childhood memories of getting to tail along with your father; early morning drives out into the beautiful countryside, interspersed with stops like this. He always let you get some pancakes with whipped cream. The nostalgia washed over you like a crashing wave, and for just a moment, your chest tightened. As good as those memories were, the pain felt just as fresh as it had been two months ago.

Giving a polite smile to the woman that came and greeted you, it was easy to pick your way through the tables as she found a space against the wall on the opposite side of the tiny truck stop diner to set you.

"Passing through, honey?" You settled down and kept up with the kind smile. You damn well knew that she didn't always get the respect she deserved. Just the nature of the job and the location. Truckers? They could carry their own and knew well enough to be mindful. At least the generation that your father belonged to did. Yours? Not so much.

"Yes, ma'am." She seemed surprised to hear the response. "Not in any hurry, though. I'll take a coffee when you get a moment, please." You could see someone, definitely not one to frequent stops like this, was trying to get her attention.

"Well, ain't you a polite young thing," she offered with a soft laugh. "I'll bring your coffee right up." She headed off with an almost lazy step to her gait, clearly not in any sort of rush to take care of the demanding customer. The action was enough to force you to stifle a laugh behind your hand. Eyes had fallen on you when you had first entered and now? They had mostly returned to their own doings and business. That could have stemmed from the fact that you dressed sort of like you fit in amongst all the workers who spent their hours on the road. The beat-up Carhartt around your shoulders had belonged to your father. It had seen far better days, but it was the one thing you hadn't been able to give up.

Your father had been your rock, your steady shore, the one who had been there. He had raised you alone, did everything right. As much as he could. Older now, you realized the man had his flaws, but he cared for you very much and had done a hell of a job on his own. When your grandmother came into the picture when you were fifteen, upheaval and chaos reigned. She had managed to petition the courts to gain custody. That was what happened when one side had money and the other hadn't. A single father on the road for work versus the woman whose name meant something and had connections. It was a losing battle.

Playing in that world, high society, had always felt wrong. You had longed for the simple days in the rural home you had spent your childhood in. Money hadn't meant shit. Social events and gatherings were torturous at best, painful proceedings that you were forced through over and over again. All because you carried a name? Or well, supposedly did. A name you has forsaken as soon as the old woman passed away.

Sure, she had left everything to you, and it would be a hell of an easy life. But that wasn't what you had wanted. Selling her house, all the shit in it that you didn't need, you had found a beater car and headed right back to see your father.

It was only a few years later that he fell ill. All the money in the world couldn't beat out the consequences of smoking two packs a day and a life spent in a rig. Now, you were working on spreading his ashes cross country in the spots you visited as a kid. At least the money was being used for something.

In the blink of an eye, your meal, pancakes with whipped cream of course, and coffee were all done. All in all, it was a meal under 15 bucks. As discreetly as you could, you wrote out a note before shoving several large bills in the little folder. Enough to leave a healthy tip for the kind waitress and pay for the meals of the six other people occupying the bar space. Standing up, you stopped the waitress on your way out.

"Keep the change." It was all you offered before you stepped outside. You didn't need to see the results of your small act. You didn't do it for recognition. Hell, once you were done with this, you were retreating from the world to your fathers house and not leaving for a few weeks at minimum.

Sitting in your car, you were studying the map. GPS was good, and while you used it, it was always good to have the route planned out. Technology could shit the bed easily. At least reading and following the map was a sure thing. Mostly. Roads occasionally changed but not enough to end up lost with no knowledge of how to unstick yourself. A tap on the window caused you to jump, pressing the paper downwards for a moment.

A man stood outside your window, tall enough that you couldn't see his face right away, having to shift closer with him leaning his head down. Even so, his hat obscured his eyes. Scruff lined his chin, slightly peppered. This man was definitely a trucker. Quickly, you rolled down the window.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"That was an awful kind thing you did there," he spoke softly, his hand jerking back in the direction of the diner. You blinked, processing the words but reacting far slower than it should have been. That voice. Deep with that drawl. You could listen to it for hours. "Things like that don't happen too often." Was he looking for an explanation?

"Oh, it wasn't much, really." His eyes were running over the car. You knew how it looked. First impressions wouldn't scream that you had money. Which, maybe to a degree, it was a good thing. "What good is an inheritance if you can't put a little good out into the world? Would it be safe to assume that one of those rigs is yours?" You motioned towards the line of trucks not far from where you were parked.

"S'pose you could."

"My father was a trucker. The job isn't easy, and I respect what you do. The least I could do was pay for food and coffee. A good meal and some caffeine are important. My attempt to make up for all the bad that you have to deal with, at least in a small way." He seemed to mull the words over for a moment, almost as if it wasn't what he expected you to say. Then, a soft chuckle, a deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine, came from the man. His fingers drummed against the hood of your car for just a moment before he stepped back.

"Well, it's appreciated."

"It's really no problem at all. Happy to do something so small. Stay safe out there."

"You do the same, sweetheart."

****

The meeting stuck in your head, leaving a little smile on your face as you drove the long, mostly desolate stretches of highway for the next two days. There was one final special stop that you had to make, where the remainder of the ashes would be spread. It was off the beaten path, near an abandoned warehouse. The same little isolated lake that you and your father had always spent your birthdays. A little fishing, some deer watching, and the sort of peace and calm that didn't come from anything but a lack of interaction with the outside world. A place just for the two of you, away from the outside world and distractions. There was no work, there was no school, no one to bother and no one to interrupt.

The spreading of his ashes had been both painful and cathartic. A final goodbye that in a lot of ways you had not been ready for. But, there was no other option. Reality was what it was, and you couldn't hold on to him out of selfish reasons. Being back in that place brought back nothing but fond memories, some that you hadn't thought about in years, and some that you had forgotten.

You hadn't driven more than a couple miles off the road that led to the abandoned warehouse when steam started coming from your engine. Pulling the truck to the side of the road, you killed the engine and let out a small huff. Out in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't a chance for cell service, and nothing was within walking distance to be able to find a tow truck. Hopefully, it was something you'd be able to fix on your own, but you wouldn't know until you got out of the car and popped the hood. The heat coming from the engine was uncomfortable, and you had to pull your hand back twice before being able to lift the hood at all. Waving smoke out of your face, you waited for just a moment longer for things to clear before appearing into the engine to see if you could determine what was causing the problem. At the same time, you tried to keep a careful ear out for any cars that might be passing by. There wasn't a lot of traffic on the road, so you could only get one chance at flagging a car down if you were lucky. You didn't know all that much about engines, just the basics that your father had taught you when you were young. You hadn't had a chance to learn much more, unfortunately. Now would have been a great time to have that knowledge.

The rumble of a semi filled your ears as you cursed and pulled back from the engine. From what you could tell, it was possible that the head gasket blew. Which meant that there was not much you could do with the car. You would have to have it towed and fixed by a mechanic. Stranded. You are absolutely stranded if this truck didn't stop for you. Before you even had the chance to stand up and pull back fully from the car and stick a thumb out, the sound of the brakes being hit filled the empty area around you. The trucker was coming to a stop before you would even ask for help. Hopefully, that was a good thing.

It took a second from the time the truck stopped for the door to open. In that time, you watched curiously, perhaps a little too relaxed, but it was in your nature. The few friends you had always said that you always thought of people as too good. But it hadn't caused problems yet, so what did they know?

"Ya broke down?" The distinct voice was familiar, even after only encountering it once. He was leaning over from the driver side, peering out through the open passenger door.

"I'm not the best with engines, but I think the head gasket went. So, it might be a lost cause." You wiped your hands against your pants for a moment, trying to clean them up a bit.

"Judging from the smoke, don't think you are going anywhere, any time soon. Why don't you hop in and I can give ya a lift to the next town." You glanced at the car for a moment before moving to grab your bag.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna inconvenience you. Or your run. I know things can be time sensitive." You glanced at the trailer that his rig was hauling, almost instantly feeling bad that he had stopped. You could remember your father complaining about eighteen, twenty hour shifts at a time to cover the necessary ground, when he thought that you couldn't hear that was.

"It isn't out of the way. Come on, get in." Any more hesitating would be time wasting. One step up, and you had to grab the bars to take the next step and keep your balance before swinging yourself into the passenger seat. Quickly, you closed the door.

"Thank you, really. I thought I was going to be there awhile." Your eyes bounced around the rig, unable to help it as you took in the inside of the cab or the way that a smile came without warning. "I haven't been inside a truck like this in forever. She really is gorgeous. Peterbilt, right?" He was already getting the truck moving again.

"Gotta say I'm impressed. Ain't too many that don't drive and know their stuff. 359, 1986."

"My mechanic skills may not be the greatest, but I like to think I know my trucks." It was a light tease, any and all pride lacking from the words. In the look around, you have spotted a few places you could leave him some cash for the ride. It was the least that could be done. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've been terribly rude." You had never introduced yourself, which you quickly remedied.

"You can call me Rusty." Probably part of a CB handle, but it hardly mattered. You had a moment where you struggled to decipher if he preferred quiet or if he wanted to chat. Talking wasn't something that you would push. If he wanted to, sure he would initiate, and if not, you didn't mind being silent.

It went on for a little longer, the silence and atmosphere of the cab comfortable. Miles seemed to pass under the large wheels within the blink of an eye.

"What are you doing out here, all on your own?" The question was bound to come eventually. You paused for just a moment before glancing away from the road finally and towards the man.

"Spreading my Daddy's ashes." His eyes tore from the road the same way yours had, this time as if trying to judge if you were being honest. "Stopping at all the places that we had visited when I was little. He raised me. First couple years of my life, I practically lived in his rig with him. A couple miles back? Off Whitey close to that abandoned warehouse, about a mile off there is a little secluded lake. We would spend birthdays there. Fishing, wildlife watching, me playing hooky from school. It was the last stop." Your voice softened as you neared the end of the explanation. A pang in your chest. One that wasn't as strong as it had been the last few months.

"I'm sorry to hear he passed." The words had been repeated by a few people, that sort of unsure what to say but needed to offer something for condolences. It was an awkward situation to try to maneuver around. But you appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. "Ya mind me asking how ya came into all that money then? Can't say I got a stash laying around like that." The question brought a slightly bitter sound from your throat before you could stop it.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to do that. It's just…not the best of memories. My maternal grandmother. Never knew my mama, not entirely sure what happened to her. But when the older woman found out, she petitioned the court for custody. The usual foul rhetoric spewed about my father and his occupation. Not being suitable for children and such. Helped that she had money and connections." You paused as the rush of memories washed over you. Hands unconsciously tightened against your bag before you let out a shuddering breath. "She was one of those folks who always looked down their noses at everyone who didn't come from the so-called elite. Better than everyone else. Couldn't stand to be around her and that life. People like that? They ain't any good. Aren't honest, don't know a day of hard work in their life." You could hear the slight crink of leather, likely from the steering wheel but paid little mind.

"I didn't want anything to do with her or that life. She passed right before I turned eighteen, thinking she had gotten what she wanted with me being molded into her image. Left everything. I couldn't sell the house and business off fast enough. Got my name changed back, legally. Went straight back to the small country home I had grown up in. Never wanted the money and don't have too much of a need for it. It's a silly idea, but I try to counter all the negative, nasty things that she did by giving it away where I can." You had always been an open book to everyone. Oversharing had never gotten you in trouble yet. A habit that your grandmother had tried to break you of but had never been successful. Ever.

"Ain't all that silly, sweetheart." There was a different note to his voice. Something soft, something that made you feel a swell of some unknown emotion in your chest. Your cheeks felt a little hot. At least someone didn't think it was silly. Your friends indulged you, of course, but you knew occasionally they spoke about it behind your back. "World would be a better place with more people who thought like that."

Again, a few minutes of silence passed, as if the exchange was being digested and determinations were being made. Well, you were more content to just enjoy the rumble of the truck and the passing landscape.

"You look like you could use some sleep. Why don't you get some shut eye. Next town is still about sixty miles out."

"Are you sure?" You couldn't deny that the rhythmic rumble was lulling you into that relaxed peaceful state. But you didn't want to be rude either.

"Hun'red percent. Ain't gonna bother me none. I'll wake you when we are getting close, okay?"

Was it smart to fall asleep in the rig of a man you didn't know? Hardly. You weren't that naive. But, at the same time, you didn't feel a single sense of danger from the man. Shifting a little and pulled the jacket around you to act more like a blanket, you settled your head against the window.

"Thank you, Rusty." Eyes closed, it didn't take long for sleep to take a hold, leaving you unaware of the eyes that had turned to take you in, or the shift in intent in the truck.

[haveihitanerve]

so this is my attempt at this fic idea i saw in a post a long while back about Bruce not giving up when his kids are threatened, even though hes injured to the breaking point and the kids are just forced to watch, forced to see his dedication to him, forced to sit and do nothing. yeah. this is my attempt-

Bruce Wayne was on his way to work when it happened. It was not planned. These things never were. The sudden injection to his side had him wheeling and socking the man in the face. That was all he managed before the drugs took him. 

Bruce awoke to the taste of mud in his mouth. He breathed slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to take in his surroundings slowly, without the threat of someone knowing he was awake. That attack had been planned. His arms were wrapped in rope and tied up behind his head. Bruce breathed deeply, hoping that whoever was watching him, if they were watching at all, he was just bruce wayne at this moment anyway, would think he was just shifting in his sleep. The smell was distinctly Gotham. Still in Gotham. And outside. No building, no matter how good of a ventilation system could keep the smell of gotham out, but they tried. But this smelled like pure, unfiltered Gotham. He was kneeling on floor that was unfamiliar to him, but felt distinctly like dirt. For sure outside then. Wait. Not unfamiliar. Bruce knew this ground. He knew this forest. There was only one in Gotham, and he knew it better than he knew the Batcave, having spent a considerable time of his time in his youth in these very woods. He also recognized the divot that was to the left of his right knee. He had a secure bunker nearby. Determining that he had enough information for at least a base plan, bruce allowed his eyes to flutter open. Unsurprisingly, the idiots hadn't thought to blindfold him. Even though he was a rich, arrogant, play boy prick, at least to the public, they had to know that every Gothamite knew at least basic self defense. And that kidnaps were not rare. Even if he wasn't Batman he would have taken the ‘Course for Well Off Victims’ as the press called it, the ‘training for the rich fucks who will probably get kidnapped more times than they’ll get drunk’ as his kids called it. Bruces lips twitched. 

A face appeared in front of his. “Ah. So the legendary Bruce Wayne has decided to awaken from his slumber at long last.” Bruce frowned. The face peering at him was fairly basic. Simple brown hair, black eyes. Horrible hygiene. Clear by his breath and stench. Bruce wrinkled his nose. But, bruce noted with no small amount of satisfaction, there was a clear bruise forming around one eye, clearly and poorly covered with makeup that did not match the mans skin tone. But he had more important matters to worry about. “What do you want?” Bruce spat, trying his hardest to look like the disheveled mess that a rich play boy would look like if kidnapped. The man leaned back, smugness written on every inch of his body. “What do i want?’ he twittered. “What do i want?” he repeated, twirling. “Ha!” he got very close to bruce. Bruce managed not to gag only with all the strength of a man trained by assassins in the himalayas. “What i want Brucie wayne.” the man twittered sweetly into his ear. “Is to break you.” He stepped back, a smug and self satisfied look on his face. Bruce held back the urge to roll his eyes. Very few things would manage to break him, and he doubted whatever this twat had brewed up would work even mildly. “You see, i am a great scientist.” Bruce really fought to bite down his groan. The man ignored him, pacing like he was giving an oral report in front of a huge audience instead of to Bruce Wayne, a man he had kidnapped and tied up in the forest. “And i have concocted a little something in my labs. A few little somethings actually.” he smirked. “Just in case. But i doubt you'll survive past the first one.” He laughed lightly. “Never the less,” he cocked his head. “Perhaps i misspoke actually,” he mused. “I do not simply wish to break you. I wish to hurt you. To make you scream. And then finally kill you. But not before you beg for mercy.” Bruce didn't hold back the eye roll this time. He also didn't bother asking what hed done to offend this man, because clearly he was always offending people and this one in excess seemed eager to tell him what hed done wrong. So bruce stayed quiet. The man blinked, coming to a stop. “Not gonna say anything?” he asked. “No ask for bail? Begging to be let go? Offering me all your money? Nothing?” he seemed a little put out. “Whats your name?” Bruce asked instead. It was getting a little annoying referring to him as just ‘the man’ The man(urgh) blinked in surprise, but, even more surprisingly, answered. ‘He must really be confident in his ability to kill me’ bruce thought. A tendril of unease, small, but there, curled around him. “My name is Stefan Cornilious Bathromleow Marcrowitch the Fifth.” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. Bruce pulled a face. “Corn it is.” he muttered. Corns face snapped in anger. “No!” he snarled. “My name is-!” 

“He heard you the first time Corny. But what the man says goes.” Called a familiar voice and bruce almost went limp in relief, smiling as his second eldests voice filled the clearing. “Trust me, we’ve all tried arguing it.” His oldest agreed. Bruce rolled his eyes. “Shut up dickface, im talking!” jason snarled, appearing from behind two trees. He waved at Corn, holding a loaded shotgun. “Mind holding still? It'll make this much quicker.” Corn glared at him. “Red Hood.” he sniffed. “I didn't think you cared for hero work.” “oh, i don't.” Jason assured him. “But my siblings, and pain in ass father, are of a different mind.” He shrugged. “Im trying to be more, family oriented.” Bruce sent him a look. He shrugged again. “What?” “its true.” Three figures hopped from the trees and Corn winced back in surprise as Nightwing, Red Robin and Spoiler stood. “Hey Brucie.” Steph greeted cheerfully. “Nice to see you again.” “fifth kidnapping this week aint it?” Tim asked conversationally. Bruce rolled his eyes. “Not my fault.” he grumbled. “Yeah give the man break. Hes got a hard job.” Another voice chimed and Batgirl appeared. Bruce sent her a glare. “I do actually.” he sniffed. He heard a snicker but couldn't identify if it was all his children laughing or just one. The last two appeared in the form of Orphan and Robin. Corn was looking between all of them, confusion evident on his face. Then he shrugged. “Oh well. Might as well kill off all the vigilantes too. It'll make escaping killing Bruce Wayne much easier.” and with that he pulled a switch out of his pocket and flicked it. They waited. “Just- wait.” Corn said, raising a hand. “It'll take just a sec-” He smiled as a roar echoed from not too far a distance. “Ah there it is. Ta-ta!” he said, grinning, then exploded. They stared in surprise at the space he had just moments before vacated. “I think hes-” “not dead.” Barbara confirmed. “Hes got a low level of magic. It probably teleported him somewhere.” Dick shrugged. “We’ll find him later. He gave us a full name.” Barbara nodded. “Yep. Already found him.” Tim laughed. “Dope.” “um, guys. The roaring is getting louder.” Steph informed them. “No prob.” Jason said, cocking his shotgun. “No!” Damian protested. “Hes right, sounds like an animal.” Cass signed. Jason sighed, but lowered the gun. Bruces ear twitched. He knew that sound. “Everyone get into the bunker.” he ordered, leg moving. He hit the rock two feet away, rolling it on its side. “Tim, code. now.” Tim frowned, but knelt down and activated the code. The bunker opened in between two trees, lifting out of the earth. “What? B whats going on?” Dick asked concerned. “Get in the bunker.” he ordered instead. “I know that creature. Corn said he changed it. Is a scientist. That creature-” he cut off, shuddering. “Its horrible as is. No conscience. No brain. Only wants to kill. It doesn't need food, water. Nothing. It was bred to kill. And hunt. Get. In. The. Bunker.” he growled. Dick had gotten pale. He ushered damian and tim towards the opening in the ground. “Hold on pops!” jason held up a hand. “What about you?” “im coming.” Bruce growled. The roaring was getting closer. “You in first. Now.” Jason frowned, but he obediently stepped down into the bunker, helping cass and barbara down after him. Dick, damian, and and tim were already inside. Steph paused. “Wait. You're tied up.” She moved back towards him to free him just as the creature came barreling into the clearing. 

It was even more gruesome than the one bruce had fought. As big as a black bear, the width of a small tank, it towered over them, its long, sharp, yellow teeth dripping with saliva. Its eyes, a horrible, angry, red, zeroed in on Bruce. Steph was frozen, the other kids watching in horror. The creature let out an earsplitting roar and charged. Bruce pulled his arms in front of him, shredding the rope with pure brute strength, and dove into steph, just as the creature barreled into the tree where bruce had been held seconds before. “DAD!!!” Dicks shrill cry just strengthened bruces resolve and he jumped up, slinging steph over one shoulder and dove for the bunker, throwing her inside. Jason let out a yell as her full weight, combined with the force bruce had thrown her, slammed into him, but he stayed on his feet. Bruce turned with his momentum and slammed his foot onto the keypad for the bunker. It slammed shut. “DAD!!!” Dick roared. “NO!!!!” Jason bellowed. Tim slammed his fists against the door, but it was strong and thick and wouldn't budge. The only thing bruce regretted was that the door was clear. So they could still see him. And he could still see them. “Tim! Get us out of here.” Jason roared, helping a disoriented steph to sit down. Tim searched wildly, but there was no pad in sight. Bruce had designed it like that with purpose. Only he could close and open the bunker. And only he knew where to find the keypad to open or close it. The creature roared, already ready to attack him again, slamming into the tree full force only having mildly disoriented him slightly. Now he turned, ready for blood.

The Batkids could do nothing but watch in horror, and slight awe, as their father battled this monster from hell, not giving up for a second. Bruce still jumped around with surprising speed and agility, despite being coated red in his own blood from wounds that would have crippled even Superman. He had pulled moves they had never seen, never even heard of, performed somehow perfectly, even with only one working leg and a broken nose. But he still stood, still fought, at all times remaining between the creature and his children. Always. Even when the monster batted him into a tree with his paw, he always sprang up faster than should be humanly possible, and danced again, always between the monster and his kids. The bears massive paws swiped for him again, and they watched in horror as it shredded the flesh of Bruces upper arm. Bruce roared in pain, but still spun, sending his foot flying for the monster, sending it flying back, ramming through three trees before it slammed to a stop, laying still for a second as it recovered. Bruce stayed standing, legs shaking. His left leg was practically useless, his calf having been shredded an hour into the fight, but he stayed balanced, waiting for the next attack. Slowly, barely, the creature got to its feet and ambled over, sluggish. Dragging its feet. It had only a few wounds, some long gashes down its side from a knife Bruce had managed to hold onto for all of ten minutes before the bear had fucking swallowed it, and there was a flesh wound in its arm where Bruce had fucking bitten it, but was otherwise unharmed. But still, it stopped, just outside of the clearing, and its red eyes still shone as it met the eyes of their Father. Bruce was bleeding from everywhere, his right arm hung uselessly at his side and he leaned further onto his right leg than his left, but he still stood tall. “They. are. Mine.” he growled. “And i will die before you touch a single fucking hair on them.” He snarled. The kids held their breath, They could've imagined it. Maybe it was the fact that they had been watching their Father fight a monster from the deepest pits of hell for over three hours and he still hadn't fallen. Maybe it was because the oxygen in the bunker wasn't the greatest. Whatever the reason, Bruces ears tilted back, almost pinned against his head the way a dog would if threatened. His teeth seemed to sharpen into canines. And his eyes flashed dark black, like a bats. “Mine.” he growled. The creature turned, slowly, and walked away. Tim reached out a shaking hand, poking Jason's side. “What?” Jason asked, still watching his father in awe. “Still think you can beat him?” Tim whispered hoarsely. Gotham had gifted them all. In its own special, horrible way. Dick could run faster, Steph could jump higher, Jason had fangs, Tim didn't need sleep, Damian's eyes glowed like a wolfs, Cass didn't die, Barbara had never shown any signs of age. And Bruce. Bruce. The one who tied them all here. Their tether. The nest. The reason they all stayed, whether they consciously or unconsciously acknowledged it. Bruce was gifted Fatherhood. The right to claim every single one of his children. Mine. The word echoed in every step the children took, it reverberated in every word they said, it bounced around in the back of their minds always. Mine. They were his and he was theirs and there had been no gift bestowed apon anyone greater than that. Mine.

[hellfirexhoe]

Death of Me - Chapter 5: One Last Goodbye

Chapter 5 | Series Masterlist

1.6k words

Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, pregnancy, mention of bodily harm, hurt/comfort

"Well I look fucking ridiculous. Do we really think this is going to work?" Eddie has his hair tucked up into a snug fitting beanie borrowed from Robin. He's also wearing Steve's sunglasses and has a blanket from Dustin's house wrapped around him  tucked up to his chin. Nancy and Steve share a look of 'maybe not' over the top of Eddie's head. The door opens and Hopper slinks in sighing heavily at the sight of Eddie in the wheelchair,

"What the hell's all this? Are we trying to advertise that this man is a wanted criminal that we're sneaking out of the hospital?"

He leans down and plucks the glasses off of Eddie's face, handing them back to Steve.

"Unnecessary. The hat is fine. The blanket? It looks ridiculous." The blanket is taken off Eddie and thrown to Dustin. 

"Steve, jacket." Steve hands over the jacket with no protest, Eddie peers around Hopper and locks eyes with Steve,

"I'm holding this to ransom until I get my vest back."

"There. Much less ridiculous. Keep your hands covered." Hopper gestures to the bruises on Eddie's wrist from the cuffs he had only recently unlocked. Eddie nods and tucks his arms into the jacket.

"Ready? Okay. Nancy, you're wheeling him out, let's go. Everyone else follows one by one and for Christ's sake don't draw attention to us." Hopper steps out of the roof after Nancy, gesturing for everyone else to exit while he trails behind. Dustin and Steve opt for the stairs so not everyone has to climb into an elevator. 

Somehow the group reassembles in the car park at Steve’s car, bundling Eddie into the back while Dustin tries to tuck the blanket around him as surreptitiously as possible. Hopper gets into his own car, Robin goes with Nancy leaving Dustin, Steve and Eddie together with one destination in mind, Hopper's cabin. 

When the car stops for the final time Eddie is a little shocked, he can't believe the plan has worked to this point. 

Over the next few days Eddie stays in the cabin, sequestered with Hopper and "the girl with magical powers" who he was convinced Steve had been lying about. Hopper keeps in touch with a contact who has eyes on the investigation, and finally, Steve's house is given the all clear. 

You had taken your mother's advice and arranged to see friends, to spend time with people your own age. After a glance in the mirror at your choice of clothes you opt for an oversized sweatshirt, your bump is definitely small enough that it would probably go unnoticed, especially to these girls who hadn't seen you in about six weeks, but you were keen to avoid addressing that aspect of your life with them today.

You arrive at the cafe and as you sit down with them it strikes you that your friendship with these girls feels like it happened in another lifetime. It could be the grief that's changed you, or impending motherhood, but you really, truly, do not care about Andy's new car. You muddle through the conversation, faking your enthusiasm as best you can. 

"Did you know they recovered Jason's body from the Creel house wreckage?" Now this does pique your interest and you look at Louise, the source of this information,

"Apparently it was all kinds of fucked up, they think someone mutilated his body.” 

“But who would have done that to poor Jason?” Jessica seems just as intrigued as you do by this news, obviously Jason’s family weren’t going to be advertising this kind of grisly news.

“I mean it's obvious isn’t it?” This might be your cue to leave the table, you have a suspicion about the next words which will leave Louise’s mouth, Jessica though seems clueless and stares blankly.

“It was obviously that freak Munson. I mean, shit, everyone knows he and Chrissy must have been sleeping together, she tried to end things and that's why he killed her and then Jason. Oh my gosh have you guys seen his creepy uncle? He was always putting up those posters around town? Gross.” You flinch, suddenly hot with rage, feeling akin to a tank of gasoline and Louise has just dropped a match into you. You exhale through your nose once, forcefully, before standing up wordlessly, wrapping your hand into Louise’s ponytail and slamming her head into the table.

“He was fucking a cheerleader, wasn’t Chrissy though.” You give her a mean sneer as her head comes up, nose bloodied. 

You’ve made a scene. That much is clear. Jessica’s eyes are flitting between you and Louise who is cupping her nose as blood spews out, as are most of the other patrons in the cafe.

“Okay then, well this was very illuminating. I’ve got to dash.” Your voice is sickly sweet and insincere,

“Fucking freak.” 

You don’t even respond to this, just leave the cafe, get into your car and head out to spend time with someone you actually want to see.

Wayne eyes your blotchy face suspiciously, you had managed to wipe up the tears before you arrived but you’d be lying if you said the way your former friends had spoken about Eddie hadn’t bothered you.

“Everything okay kid?” Wayne hands you a glass of water. You nod,

“Peachy.” Your voice wobbles as you speak, giving you away immediately.

“Why don’t I believe that?” 

“People suck.” You offer up as an explanation, Wayne laughs quietly,

“That they do. I’m guessing this is something to do with Eddie? Someone say something?” 

You place the glass down on the coffee table with trembling hands,

“I - I met up with some girlfriends today and, shit, the things they said about Eddie. And then I was thinking it wasn’t so long ago that I probably would have joined in with the things they were saying.” Wayne gives you a small, sad, smile and pats your back,

“Look, anyone below the age of 25 is stupid. Eddie was stupid, you’re stupid.” You give a choked laugh, “What matters, what really matters is that when my boy died, he knew how much you loved him. Nothing you did before that would have mattered to him.”

“He didn’t know.” Your words are broken by sudden, wracking sobs that hurt your chest, “I - I never told him and now it's too late.”

“You think he needed to hear the words to know? Look, I never wanted to third wheel the two of you but the times I was forced against my will to do so I could see it, on both of your faces. Believe me, he knew.”

Dustin squints at the name on the envelope Eddie has just handed him,

“And you’re asking me to do this, why?”

“Because I can’t. Please, I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t urgent.”

“Eddie I really don’t think a letter is the way you should handle this.” Dustin’s protests are 50% based on his belief that Eddie shouldn’t be informing his girlfriend that he’s alive but running away via a letter and 50% out of fear that he’ll put the envelope through your door and you’ll see him and yell at him.

“Please.”

Dustin sighs, and nods, tucking the letter in his pocket and heading up the stairs from Steve’s basement, asking Steve for a ride and giving him the address from the envelope Eddie had handed him.

“Why are we going there? That’s-” Steve cuts himself off before he can incriminate himself. 

Dustin shrugs, “Eddie needs a favour, needs me to deliver a letter to someone.”

“O…kay.”

The frown doesn’t leave Steve’s face the entire journey, if he’s driving Dustin to your house for the reason he thinks he is, he is honestly stunned.

You’re taking the trash out when you see Steve’s BMW pull up on your driveway, you spy Eddie’s friend Dustin in the passenger seat who blanches when you make eye contact with him. You see the boy steel himself and step out of the car. He approaches you slowly, like the way someone would approach an aggressive dog, before handing you a letter with a shaky hand,

“The hell’s this?” You rip the envelope open, holding up a hand to indicate to Dustin to wait. 

You feel sick the second you recognise the thick messy scrawl on the paper. You presume this is some kind of dying wish note until the words actually register in your brain. What the fuck?! You look up at Dustin,

“Is this a fucking joke?” Dustin shakes his head, too scared of you to lie.

“Dustin. Where. The. Fuck. Is. Eddie?” You catch Dustin eyes flick to Steve in the BMW who gives you an uncomfortable raise-of-hand half wave. 

“Is he at Steve’s house?”

“No?” You narrow your eyes and Dustin immediately caves, “Yes, okay yes! He just asked me to give this to you before he left. I don’t know anything else!”

“Wait here. Don’t move.” You run into the house, scrawling a quick message for your parents on the notepad by the phone in the hall,

Seeing friends. Back late. Don’t wait up.

You grab your bag from your bedroom, before you head out of the door you think to scoop up the envelope containing your sonograms from your desk, your head is swimming right now and you’re not even sure if this is some kind of cruel elaborate prank, or if this is real, are you really about to reunite with Eddie and drop the baby bombshell immediately? You’re also not sure as to whether you’re going to kill or kiss him when you do finally see him, if you see him.

You lock the door, grab Dustin by his hoodie and drag him over to Steve’s car, plonking yourself in the backseat.

“Okay, guessing we’re going back to my place?” Steve starts the car

“No shit.” Dustin pipes up, sneaking glances at you in his wing mirror.

author's note: if you all behave yourselves I might be convinced to post Chapter 6 on Sunday 😉

Taglist: @hellomothermoon @tlclick73 @likedovesinthewnd @bebe0701 @steamystrangerfics @zeedramallama @tyelikesbees @wheaty-melon @thegirlwhohides @mxcheese @witchofhawkins @munsonsgirl71 @sammararaven @joejoequinnquinn @hellfire-puppet @micheledawn1975 @averagemisfit03 @edsforehead @thehuntresswolf @a-hopeless-fan @bimbobaggins69 @harrys-tittie @feltonswifesworld87 @munsons-mayhem28 @thatsbunnysmind @heyhihellowhatsup0 @iamaslutforcoffee

[pedrettilov3r]

HATE TO LOVE.

pairings: chad meeks-martin x fem!oc

summary: enemies to lovers. the two couldn’t stand each other, but when ghostface is after their friendgroup they find themselves forced to work together to survive.

SCREAM 6 SPOILERS

CHAPTER ONE:

Nellie didn't know why she thought coming to this frat party with Tara would be a good idea. They had met during orientation week and bonded over the fact that they were both new to the city. The two had been inseparable since then, and as a result Nellie had spent most of her time with Tara's friend group.

She had quickly become a permanent part of the friend group, clicking with almost everyone in it. The only person that she hadn't managed to get along with was Chad. From the moment they met they found a way to get under each others skin. Mindy would always say that they needed get over their own pride and just be friends like everyone else but they refused. At some point, everyone had grown used to their bickering and Chad and Nellie had no intentions of stopping. It quickly became a competition of who could get the last word in.

Currently, Nellie stood alone at the frat party Tara had managed to drag her to. The Carpenter girl had insisted that Nellie couldn't spend Halloween alone in her apartment, to which she had disagreed, but eventually she gave in to her friends pleading. She looked over to where Mindy and Anika sat on the couch, cuddled up together, yeah she wasn't really in the mood to be a third wheel tonight. Tara had gone to get a refill a couple of minutes ago and had yet to come back. Nellie figured she probably just went to the bathroom but she kept an eye out for her friend.

As Nellie wandered around the frat house trying to find a quiet corner her eyes landed on Ethan and Chad. Chad had been trying to hype Ethan up and get him to flirt with a girl and Nellie playfully rolled her eyes at the two. Chad's eyes met hers and suddenly she knew there was no escaping an interaction with him. She sighed and walked over to where the two stood.

"Hey Ethan, nice costume." She reluctantly turned her attention to Chad "Oh and you're here too."

Chad scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Did you forget half your costume at home or something?" Nellie said

Chad let out an annoyed laugh challenging the girl's remark, "Oh please, don't act like you don't find me irresistible"

"God, you are so full of yourself -"

"Guys! It's Halloween, can you please just have a good night stop fighting for once in your lives?" Ethan interjected

"No." The two said in unison

Anika then walked up behind the three of them shifted their attention from the previous argument.

"Hey big guy, you're needed." Anika said directing all her attention to Chad.

He quickly followed behind the girl and Nellie joined soon after because she was quite a nosy person and didn't want to know be left out of whatever was going on.

Anika led them to the stairs where they saw a very drunk Tara walking up the stairs with a guy none of them knew. Nellie immediately tensed, she did not like this at all.

"Hey partner, Tara's good down here," Chad stated, grabbing the guy's attention.

The guys scoffed, "Sorry but I didn't catch that."

Nellie rolled her eyes, annoyed at the games this guy was clearly trying to play.

"Yeah, you did," Nellie said. Chad shared a glanced with her, clearly as annoyed with the guy as she was.

Tara stepped forward "No guys, it's fine. I want to." she said defensively

The guy stepped forward putting his hand and Nellie's shoulder, "Yeah see guys, she wants to." the guy said, clearly mocking them.

Nelli felt her blood start to boil when the guy turned and grabbed Tara by the arm, aggressively pulling her up the stairs with him.

Before she could act Chad grabbed the guy, pulling him away from Tara and shoving him off the stairs.

"Why don't you get your fucking hands off." Chad threatened the man

A fight quickly broke out between Chad and the creep as they shoved and yelled at each other. Tara tried breaking it up but it was no use. Everyone gathered around to watch the fight continue to escalate when Sam suddenly emerged from the crowd and pushed the boys apart.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," she turned to the creep "I'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick,"

Everyone gasped as Sam tased the man and he fell to the floor in pain. Nellie stared at the scene in front of her and did her best to hold in her laugh at the man crying on the floor in pain.

"Don't ever lay hands on my sister." Sam threatened as the man screamed

"FUCK YOU. YOU BITCH"

Tara finally spoke up "Sam." Sam turned to face her sister "Are you fucking kidding me. You're stalking me now?" Tara questioned her sister angrily and stormed off.

Nellie stared at Sam "For what it's worth I thought that was fucking cool." Sam just stared at her as she looked like she was about to cry and walked out to follow her sister.

"Great job," Chad remarked sarcastically and patted her on the back.

Nellie glared at the boy, "fuck off Martin."

Thank you to anyone who reads this!!! This is my first fanfic so please be nice and leave a like and comment if you enjoy it<3

[vlxdisdying]

The Holy Innocents' Cemetery was defunct in 1786, where did the vampire coven go afterwards?

"While sipping away the broth, I noticed a large, wooden cart approaching, wheeled forward by several knackers. A pile of cadavers laid inside, all in various stages of decomposition. Some bloated and others sunken, with their leathery skin plastered to bones, all wrapped in tattered clothes. Another one transported a dozen or so barrels, presumably filled with corpse wax that was to be turned into soap, or just scattered skeletons. Those were remnants of the Holy Innocents' cemetery, transported across Paris for the past year or so, and wheeled right into the newly opened catacombs. And what a horrible sight it was. But still not horrible enough to make me throw away the remaining broth, which I slurped up without enjoyment.

I would've turned away from it, if there hadn't been a figure behind both transports that cought my eye. A young nun from the Filles-Dieu convent, the church to which debauched women and girls fled, seeking redemption. Prostitutes, beggars and vice-seeking sinners. Mostly pulled from slums, the Parisian Courts of Miracles, but some were prodigal daughters, unfit to marry or a sore on their family's reputation. The nuns stirred a certain compassion within me whenever I saw them, and even when I didn't. Since every condemned man went to their courtyard's cross to kiss it, and each one was fed bread and wine by their hand. "The Last Piece Of The Patient" they called it. Then they would be sent off to slaughter, but not before they ate from the nuns' holy palms.

This one followed behind, hands folded over a black tunic as a cross dangled over them. Her feet were hidden beneath the long habit skirt, further adding to the impression of floating, as she slided forward seamlessly. It was no way to look upon a nun, but I couldn't disregard her apparent beauty. No more than 20 years old, though she was unusually tall, but slim. Her face was spotless, white as the cap underneath her black veil, which made the auburn of her eyebrows stand out even more, and left me to guess if the hidden mane underneath was just as red. As the carts passed by, and she neared, those dark brown eyes fell onto me.

I'd found familiarity in her gaze, or some sort of recognition. A knowledge of me that she, for some reason, seemed to possess. I'd suddenly thought of the old man's face from my nightmare, and just as quickly, Ulysse had also crossed my mind, without me willing it. "Wolfkiller" the sinister voice echoed for a second. Then an overhead view of the townhouse I lived in appeared, and I was struck by it in a way I could not explain. For I have never seen it from such a position, and never again could. It was the townhouse looked at from the eyes of a bird. I'd felt entranced, flooded by all the sudden images and titillated with a burst emotion. It felt as if I was riffling through a catalogue of feelings, spending mere seconds with each one.

And it had all passed me by for the dozen or so steps she took while looking at me, stopping when the distance made her turn straight ahead.

 I fell to my knees instantly, released from the feverish convulsion. I panted, sweat wetting my hairline despite the freezing weather. Almost making me worry for the integrity of the white powder, if I'd not had much more to worry about. It was the Witches' Place all over again, but where the unanswerable once blackened it's void in space, there finally stood a sense of something "other". The other that I hoped to reach in all my calls to God, the answer to all desperate pleading. And it made itself visible in the demure gaze of a redeemed prostitute.

I sprung myself up to follow, but she made herself disappear. Nobody stood behind the cadaver carts anymore."

An excerpt of "Behind The Mask, Another Mask" chapter 7, a Vampire Chronicles fanfiction, set in Revolutionary France with a human Lestat POV.

Behind The Mask, Another Mask - Chapter 1 - pisanjuk - Vampire Chronicles Series - Anne Rice [Archive of Our Own]

[ebongawk]

#9 please?

9. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

"Eddie?"

He was a heap of bone and flesh. A mountain of a man reduced to a pile of rubble. As though he'd been stuffed full of dynamite and the plunger had long since fallen victim to gravity. Landslides of rock and forest exploding in a great finale.

The silence left behind was almost alarming.

To know that Eddie could be silent was impossible to reconcile.

The constant force of his frenetic energy filled her with a life she'd been so uncertain of living prior to him. Prior to his unexpected appearance in her life, dropping like an anvil from a plane and shattering the plate glass perfection of her former existence.

Leaving behind beautifully jagged broken pieces with which he helped her construct a new stained-glass portrait of being. One full of music and midnights and dancing and wildflowers tucked into those riotous curls of his she didn't have enough product to contain. Fully and fundamentally a part of him, it would not be tamed.

"Eddie? Wake up."

Perhaps that's why his quiet was so disarming.

Eddie never stopped moving. Seated on the couch, a book in his hand and his concentration tucked between his teeth, his leg always bounced. Sprawled out on his bedroom floor, guitar strung across his body, the rapidly plucked strings gave way to music that had his hips twisting and his calves clenching. Even just driving, his fingertips drummed against the steering wheel, playing out the beat of whatever song was playing through the stereo or whatever music he was creating in his mind.

Chrissy doubted he had the ability to settle.

Except now.

"Eddie," she said again, kneeling next to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her heart was thundering in her chest, trying to burst up from her throat and display that anxiety to the world at large. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

He never did anything gently.

Every step he took was thunderous. Announcing his viability to the ether of existence with grandeur. Like the world itself was a stage, and he was uplifting and exciting the crowd of spectators waiting shadowed in his audience.

Eddie Munson was born with a spotlight shining down on him. He was created to be the center of it all, arms outstretched and screaming his joy into the blanket of eternity. Long after his light extinguished and the world dimmed, his voice would echo against the mountain ranges of the Earth.

Shaking his shoulder, she whispered his name again before pressing her lips to his forehead.

He woke with a start, his gasp sharp as he thrust himself into a sitting position and made Chrissy stumble back with a screech.

Never gentle.

"Shit, sunshine, you alright?" Eddie asked, his voice roughened around the edges. His nap hadn't quite been long enough, she knew, but––

"I-I'm okay," she assured him with a grin. "But, um, you told me to wake you if I had any trouble..."

Stretching around his yawn so it came out as more of a squeak, Eddie glanced at his watch, then at her, before chuckling.

"I told you IKEA furniture was a bitch and a half to put together."

Petulant, Chrissy crossed her arms in a pout.

"There aren't any written explanations, Eddie. It's just pictures."

"I know, sweetness."

"Why would they just put pictures?"

Reaching for her, Eddie scooped her up like the child she was projecting and deposited her on his lap with a laugh.

"Probably specifically to annoy you." He poked her nose, and Chrissy swatted his hand away.

"Eddie."

"And to ruin my nap."

"Ugh. You're annoying."

"Oh," he cried, clutching dramatically at his chest. "T-Thine princess wounds me so! The crack of my heart reverberates through the kingdom; the sound of it breaking like an earthquake of sorrow!" Throwing himself backward onto the bed nearly dislodged Chrissy from his lap, and she grabbed his hips with a screaming laugh.

"I'm sorry, my knight, I'm sorry!"

"I am much too wounded, my princess! Death is imminent!"

"No!" Chrissy laid over him, her hands settling against his heart and pantomiming CPR. "Absolutely not. I literally cannot build this desk without you!"

Sitting up just as suddenly as he fell back, Eddie grabbed her shoulders to keep her from toppling to the floor and grinned wildly at her.

"I wonder what'll put our relationship to the test more," he mused, pecking her cheek. "Your constant flurry of insults or building fucking IKEA furniture together."

Chrissy stole a kiss from his lips that Eddie eagerly returned, holding it for a few seconds past chaste.

"Good thing we're solid."

"Pshhh. As solid as IKEA furniture? Chrissy, please, be serious.”

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Tibit Tuesday

Tagged by the wonderful @anewkindofme! 💚

I started working on my first agere fic for The Rookie (which I should hopefully have posted sometime later this week), so here's a snippet from that:

John anxiously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove to Celina's apartment. The young woman hadn't come into work today, nor had she answered any of John's calls. In the year that Celina's worked on the force, she had never missed a day of work without calling-in first to let the department know she wouldn't be in that day. It also wasn't like her to not answer the older officer's calls, especially not since the two of them started their caregiver/little relationship. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to break the speed limit.

He had been riddled with worry all day, unable to stop the constant worst case scenarios from playing like a movie in his head, which caused his focus to stray more than once during calls. He honestly had no clue how he managed to get through the day without making any major screw-ups. As soon as his shift had come to an end, John had quickly changed into his civvies, sent a quick text off to Bailey to let her know he would be late, then made a beeline for his truck.

Thankfully, LA traffic wasn't as God awful tonight, and he arrived at Celina's place in just a little under twenty minutes. He was also fortunate enough to find a parking close to her unit.

The man hopped out of the truck and practically ran up the stairs to Celina's apartment. He rang the doorbell twice and waited.

When a minute passed and she hadn't answered the door, John rang the doorbell again and then followed it up with two knocks to the wooden frame.

Another minute went by without any sign of the young woman coming to answer the door, causing John's worry to skyrocket to new levels.

He had to keep his cool, though. For all he knew she was in the shower, or maybe she wasn't even home at all. Maybe she was at her mother's. Or... or maybe she was tied up somewhere, being tortured or God knows what.

John roughly shook his head.

No. No, he was being paranoid.

Reaching into his pocket, John pulled out his keychain and found the spare emergency key to Celina's apartment. He unlocked the door and cautiously stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind him.

John took a look around the small, one-bedroom apartment. All of the lights were off except for the light above the kitchen, but fortunately there didn't appear to be any signs of a struggle having taken place. The bathroom door was open, so that ruled out a shower or the toilet. When his gaze landed on the slightly cracked bedroom door, though, a small sense of relief flooded through his veins when he saw a faint glow coming from inside. That relief, however, was short-lived.

When John pushed the door the rest of the way open, his heart dropped into his stomach as all of his previous worry returned at an almost nauseating rate.

Celina was huddled in bed against the headboard, wrapped in three thick, fuzzy blankets. Her hair was put up in a half-hazard ponytail, her eyes were glassy and half-lidded, and in the glow of (what he now realized was) her laptop he could see beads of sweat lining her forehead. Her gaze was on the laptop screen, but she hardly looked like she was watching whatever was playing. More importantly, she hadn't even noticed he was standing in her doorway.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @sempiternalailurophile, @bat-to-da-robs, @lecalcifer, and anyone else who wants to join!