#oh (rubs my grimy hands together) i have such plans

[microsoftedgy69]

Goliath, part 1

[prologue]

-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering tremoloTangible [TT] at 11:11 -- TG: yo TT: Hey, what’s up? TG: have u checked up on our tl lately TT: Depends. What century? TG: ours TT: Then no. I haven’t been there in several months. TT: Why?

TG: k so TG: the carapaces are still there right TG: and i sometimes check up on em to make sure theyre doin ok. get enough to eat etc TG: but theyve all been losin their shit lately and i mean its kinda hard to talk to em properly but i dont wanna beat around the bush here so im not gettin into that TG: theres been some concerning stuff happening on our good old earth al TG: my alternian is p rusty and my translator gave me some weird results here n there but im gonna send u an article abt it and trust that ur language pack can handle it -- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has sent file ______.png --

You don’t have blood that can turn cold. You don’t have breath that can stutter in your chest. But some years ago, you were a human kid, and in this very moment, you remember perfectly how all these things felt.

TG: al

You reread the article. In your mind, your non-existent blood goes from freezing to boiling. You almost forget to switch your language pack to English when you reply to them.

TG: u still there TT: Yes. TT: Sorry. TT: She is turning Earth into a military base. TG: yeah thats what i was getting from it too TT: Hmm. TG: i dont like what that prob means 4 the carapaces TG: cant imagine shell give a shit about em yfm TT: Yeah. TG: idk abt ur part of the world TG: u said the apartment is underwater anyway aint it TT: It is, yes. TT: It’s still… I don’t know. TT: This might be silly. TT: But it’s still my home. TG: its not silly TG: this whole thing feels wrong TT: Yeah. TG: sooo TG: what do we do abt this TT: What? TG: we should b able to do something about this right TT: You wanna stop the Condesce? TG: ppl in other timelines have done it TT: That is correct. TG: we could do it TG: right TT: I have drafted a plan or two in the past. TG: o have u TT: I wasn’t sure if you were interested. TG: im pretty interested these days TG: the others not so much tbh but i cant blame em TG: theyre worried bc u know. i happen to be a lot less immortal than her or you TT: I’ve planned for that. TG: lmaooo TT: We’ll get you immortal and kill the Condesce, Rox. TG: man u rly are him huh TT: Told you.

Your name is Alan Strider. Sometimes, when you jerk awake at night, you are sure, one hundred percent sure, that Her Imperious Condescension is not done with you yet. Sometimes, when you sit on the deck of the boat you live on, recovering from nightmares, you think that she might come for you one day.

When that happens, you make plans.

You prepare.

It’ll be you who comes for her.

It’s you who’s not done yet.

i wanna hunt like david. i wanna kill me a giant man.

Roxy looks good when they come to meet you by your storage unit in Brazil. Grown up, you think, and determined. Nevertheless, something flickers over their face when you show them what's inside; when they lay eyes on the dismembered imperial drone you stole from your home timeline. You can relate. Your face doesn't show as much, but you feel the same every time you think about it.

You sit on scrap metal and talk about your plans. You have several, for different scenarios, and you accept what Roxy wants to change about them. The phrase Are you sure you want to do this is uttered back and forth a couple of times, before you both understand that yes. You're sure.

The way you end up agreeing on is simple enough -- if it works, you end up with a dead Condesce, a conditionally immortal Roxy, and a destroyed spare body of yours. If it doesn't, you have a list of other plans you can resort to. Stakes are high, but you've thought this through.

It's worth it.

So, you and Roxy get to work. You have to program the drone to go back home to mommy -- step one of the plan is both to find out her whereabouts, and to start coaxing her back to the planet she's having rebuilt. It might take a while, so it'll give you both time to… well, to gather up your things and make arrangements like pet care in your absence and telling your respective friends what's going on, you guess. You're not looking forward to this part of your masterplan, but you barely have time to think about it.

Anything that has you accessing an imperial drone's software is still prone to give you flashbacks bad enough to make your mechanical hands shake, so it's good that you have Roxy by your side this time. Practiced as you might be, they are still way better at this than you. You give them pointers to where they’ll find the parts of the programming you need to hijack, just to speed up the whole process, then you leave them be and go do your own work.

Roxy laugh-scoffed at the way your notes concerning the drone looked. When you disassembled it, you made yourself a map so you could put it back together, but it doesn’t look like something anyone else could ever decipher. It works for you, though. Part for part, the heap of metal starts resembling the huge beasts that almost killed the both of you on numerous occasions again.

“You wanna look over this before I finish it off?” Roxy asks eventually.

“I’m sure you did great,” you say, but you want to look over it anyway. You don’t get shivers down your spine now that you’re a robot, but you feel the sense of cold and dread in the back of your mind, going over the very program that made your lives hell, that both saved you and killed Dirk. Roxy reaches for your hand, and you take it. You exchange another We’re really doing this, huh? look, but nobody says it out loud anymore. You say, “Looks good.”

You captchalogue the finished drone, then transportalize back to Roxy’s part of your home planet, and release it. It’ll find its way back to the Condesce, and then promptly self-destruct, leaving in its wake only a message to goad her back to Earth. Once she’s made it back here, you’ll move on to the next part of the plan.

Until then, for now, you will wait.

Roxy hugs you before they disappear back to a different timeline’s Barcelona, and you disappear back to your boat in a different timeline’s Indian Ocean. Only once you are home and alone do you allow yourself to actually feel something.

Everything from Roxy messaging you to your feet hitting the deck of your yacht again happened without pause, your mind going on autopilot. Something was happening, so something had to be done in response, your plans had to be set in motion, there was no time to think about any of this. No time to fully realize what’s going on.

You stand there in the scorching evening sun of your current timezone, stare out at the horizon, and wait for the fear to come.

What hits you instead is cold, calculating, ready-to-maim anger.

You are not scared of her. Not when you know exactly what you’re going to do, where, how, and when you’re going to do it, to bring her down. You’ve been scared your whole life, and it’s enough, now. It’s enough. She’s taken your family from you, your childhood, your friends, your life as a human kid. If after all she’s put you through there is one person who has the right to destroy your home planet as well, it sure as shit should be you.

You square your shoulders, flex your hands, and refocus. You’ll have to talk to Alma to make sure you can time this coup just right to be back home for his big day.

And before that, after months and months of fighting it, you’ll have to tell your boyfriend that you’re doing the exact thing you promised him not to do.

There’s no going back now. You’ll make whatever sacrifices you need to end it once and for all.

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis

People say that college is where you “find yourself” and I can’t help but agree. It’s just, well, how I truly found myself was through my roommate Kyle. Or rather, inside him.

How to describe Kyle? He’s basically the perfect roommate. He’s kind, quiet, studious, relatively clean. He goes to soccer practice for some kind of campus league every weekend. Kyle is also rushing one of the frats on campus- Sig something or the other, so I get quite a few long nights to myself. Long, hot nights where I can’t help but scramble over to his side and pleasure myself in a pile of dirty Kyle-scented undergarments. The biggest treats were the nights when he had to do his frat stuff after a match. The nights when I could slip on his unwashed sweaty gear and just lie in the bliss of being surrounded in him. Every few days, we go out to grab a bite to eat and shoot the shit- the guy’s been a great friend to me, despite his typical serious demeanor. Since he was rushing this semester, he’s been busier and busier but he still makes time for me, even inviting me to some of his soccer team or frat bro hangouts. What can I say? I lucked out with Kyle. Still, I’m a greedy son of a bitch, and I wanted more of him. 

I decided fairly early on that I would possess him, make him wholly mine. I can’t even quite explain why Kyle specifically. He’s cute-sure, tone-definitely, but he isn’t super buff, he isn’t red-carpet-movie star hot, so it’s really hard to place why, out of anyone I could take in this entire school, I decided he would be my target. My forever home. Something about him was just enticing. Maybe it was the way his coffee brown eyes relayed a sense of mystery and serious matters, but lit up with the faintest twinkle of amusement when he recapped his games. Or maybe the way his body only gave me the briefest of glimpses at his musculature when he switched shirts. Maybe it was his kindness, unexpectedly bright for a frat-boy-soccer-star-roomate. Or maybe the way his scent lingered in the room after a workout. God, that scent. Pleasant, warm, humid, musky- like summer rain. Doesn’t matter. I wanted him. I wanted to spend my every moment with him. In him. I wanted to be wrapped up in Kyle’s flesh till the end of time, to wake up with Kyle’s eyes, to take every breath with his lungs, feel every beat of his heart pump as mine.

This possession was going to be special. I prepped for weeks- months even. Truthfully, it’s not all that difficult to possess someone for sometime and when you’re as good at it as I am, you can even maintain it indefinitely by putting the smallest pieces of yourself in them. Kyle would be different. Full, integrative possession- a one-way ticket. I wanted this shit to be permanent. I was going to stuff my entire physical form inside his. To take someone at their core, to violate every law of nature both physical and metaphysical- this, this needed setup, needed planning, needed Kyle to be present during the entire process. Therein lies the issue- how to get a lucid Kyle to sit still long enough for me to complete the slow process of integrating to him. 

I came to the conclusion that a catalyst of sorts was necessary. Something that could lock us in together physically, could stop him from leaving or stopping process, could break open after let the new and improved me emerge. Guess who drafted plans for a one such catalyst? Guess who switched majors to Material Science, who befriended a professor just to figure out a good semi-permeable material to use? No one can say I didn’t love him- at least in my own special way. After weeks of trial, weeks of iteration, I decided on a tight-fitting, sleeping-bag-esque contraption. The material and shape were special- virtually impossible for a human being to break out of, kept fluids in but let some air flow through for ventilation, shaped such that we could only fit directly stacked on top of each other, leaving him unable to escape the process. I also set the release mechanism in the back, so only a completed Kyle could escape. Like any good invention, I gave it a name befitting its purpose: Chrysalis.

I settled on a day where he would be weakest- cardio day, a day where I could easily slip some compound into his post workout mix. I finished preparations with the chrysalis, secretly hidden in his bed.

“Hey dude, sup?” He asks nonchalantly with a slight head nod, as he enters our room, visibly tired from the workout. “Nothing, man” I reciprocate in amusement. I watch in secret anticipation as he downs his special post-workout mixture, scratches his cock through his boxers- unconcerned, comfortable, and gives off a loud yawn. “Hey man, I-I-don’t....feel..” I rush to help him, corralling the grimy, tired, post-workout Kyle into place. He asleep almost immediately. I strip us both naked, marveling at my new vessel. Damn. A light pelting of hair covers the deceptively muscular soccer star. A blanket of sweat surrounds him while a bit of the spiked post workout drink pools at the corners of his plump lips. Deliciously plump lips beckoning for a taste. I aim to lick it off and give him a kiss before I immediately realize what the repercussions would be. Shit. Close call. I stroke his hair, leaning in to tell him how much I wanted this. I take a quick sniff at his pits, at his groin and god they smell fantastic. I roll him to his side, as I take my naked form beside him and pull the Chrysalis around ourselves. I roll to have my back face the bed and the bottom of my cocoon, pulling Kyle on top of me and engaging the the contraption to wrap around us. I find the button to tighten it, effectively locking the position of our stacked bodies in place. I find the final button to lock the Chrysalis into its release valve. No going back.

When I seal us together in my little love cocoon, I begin to feel the gravity of his form above mine, slick with perspiration. My future body was dense, probably from years of building muscle, perfectly tempered, toned, streamlined by every game, every win. Inside our encasement, I rocked back and forth, getting into as comfortable of a position as I could and rubbing our sweaty bods together. I lock my legs around his, intertwine our fingers together and wait patiently for Kyle to come to.

The scent was indescribable, orgasmic even. I’ve never felt closer to him. I am in tune with his slightest movements as he lay on top. With every breath, every inhale our bodies rise and fall in sync. With every steamy inhale I draw in his breath. like we were breathing in each other. No one else deserved to experience Kyle this way, not even his girlfriend Steph. Kyle was mine and mine alone. With mine still intertwined with his, I drag Kyle’s limp hands around his belly, his light abs, give him a feel for himself.

An intrusive wave of uncertainty hits me. Oh god what am I doing? Am I really doing this? This, this is unnatural. I release my hands from his grasp and reach them around him, lightly dancing them across my future body and feeling the new vessel so close, feeling his damp, gently sculpted abs for myself, squeezing his supple ass. Stupid natural order shit. I tug on his hefty, limp dick, which begins to harden involuntarily at my provacation. This is mine. Fuck the natural order, not giving you up baby.

He wakes, disoriented in the Chrysalis. “Uh...I...What the fuck...” Panic sets in, as he feels my immobile flesh behind him and he tries to get his bearings to no avail. He keeps moving back and forth, trying to dislodge himself from the Chrysalis, from me, but it’s far too tight and too strong. I made sure of that. “Oh god, oh god...” he trails as he tries to rationalize the past events. I decide at that point to reveal my identity, faking the sounds of myself waking up before sleepily asking him “Kyle? Uh... w-what are you doing here? What are we doing? W-Where is this? Did you do this? Kyle? Kyle!” I’m a shitty actor but he seems to have bought it. I relish the moment when he sighs in relief at the realization that the naked form on his back was mine. I guess he trusts me. Cute, but you shouldn’t trust me, Kyle.  

“Oh thank god, dude I don’t know, I just woke up. I- uh- sorry, I’m gonna try to get us out of this thing,” He states as he wiggles to try to release us from my cocoon. And fuck did that feel good. 

“Mmmmm Kyle” I trail, as my dick starts to harden and poke at his ass. The wiggling does not helping him, as every movement gets me harder and pushes my dick further in him. 

“Oh! EW! Fuck! What the fuck man!” He shouts, before he realizes all this was turning me on. “Fuck dude stop!” he exclaims. 

“Why would I stop this, baby, we’re just getting started.” I give his back shoulder a quick lick. “I’m gonna make you feel like a new man”.

“Y-You! YOU! You did this! the Fuck! Get me out of here!!” He spat, only for it to rain back on to us through gravity. 

He squirms, trying to escape once more only to be met with the Chrysalis’ tight hold on our forms and my engorged cock. “Only one person can come out of this thing” I moan, as I start gyrating myself into him. “Get the fuck off me, Fag!” He screams in vain as parts of me already start connecting into him. The parts of his body connected to mine light up, like sparks dancing across mine. Euphoria. “There’s that soccer rage” I state seductively as I wrap my arms around his torso and abs and push us impossibly closer. “Suits you... suits...me”.

By this point, My body was halfway submerged into his and he finally starts to feel my nerves, my cells as his. With our shared senses, he feels my arms pushing us together as if his own self was doing the deed. “AHHHH OH MY GOD. Oh! nonononono” He exclaims in terror. He is reduced to incoherent babbling as he smells the suffocating concoction of his post-workout filth. The air is thick and brimming with pheromones. He is reduced to disgust, when he tastes the droplets in the air of our putrid selves locked inside my Chrysalis. Of course, in our connected state, I taste them too, only I love this taste. His taste. Our taste. I can only moan as I continue merging into him and my limbs and his are one. I feel my new biceps as I trace them around the new me. Tone. Nimble. Champion. And I feel my new, experience-tempered legs. Vascular. Virile. Powerful. I’m a goddamn athlete.

Animalistic, guttural sounds escape his mouth as the last of my torso and neck coalesce into his, and all that remains is my head, firmly planted to the back of his. I take a deep whiff of his now-drenched hair with our new, shared, workhorse lungs. “We’re so close, baby.”

Inserting myself into his mind was equally orgasmic. He screams at contact. The first plunge of my forehead tp the back of his was some useless frat shit. Whatever. I dig my head deeper into him and felt his years of soccer practice leak into me. More goodstuff. Then deeper still- and fond memories with friends, fond memories of school bleed into me. I plunge further and further in, taking in every piece of him I could, while he pants and winces at my insertion. His first kiss, grandfather’s funeral, deepest urges all MINE. Fuck. I pull back slightly, as I feel his him gently sob, before I push more myself deeper into his psyche. He screams at the injection of more of my memories and at the realization that this was a one way trip for both of us. “FUCK! FUCK! Stop Please! Too much! Too much!” I mentally sneer as I thrust even deeper into his mind, grabbing some more of him, and leaving more of myself. Childhood memories and feelings flood into my mind and I experience everything that has led to Kyle becoming Kyle. The feeling of winning my first game. The feeling I felt the first time I masturbated. More. Kyle’s deep love for Steph.

Damn, this guy was ready to pop the question and start a family with her-Not Anymore baby. You’re with me now, Kyle. I corrode this particular aspect of him with my own innermost desires. My perversions, the pure lust I felt in finally taking him. He laughs, moans at the lust he now had, before catching himself.

“Oh god what... doing... me!” he whimpers as his body convulses and drools. Our shared pupils dilate at the process as his body thrashes in futility. And yet, I press into him deeper still. Deeper and deeper inside until all but the very last of my old self is left. His deepest secrets, his dreams, self worth belong to me. He cries, mouth mumbling incoherently into a crescendo as I worm in that last bit my head into his and my own life become his. My old body’s childhood memories, My old thoughts, feelings, knowledge, secrets flood his. I give all of it to my new self, ingraining me in him, and cementing us together.

“AHHHH DAMN IT! Fuck Fuck! get-get the fuck out!” he screams as his hands start pulling on his hair, as his head shakes left and right trying to get the intrusion of my mind out of his. He recoils as I briefly take control. “No way dude, this [moan] oh god this is fucking great.” We continue panting, continue convulsing as his body is forced to accept me. “M-My name is Kyle, and I feel fucking good!” He shakes a bit more. “STOP-“ I cut in to force him to tell me “God I fucking love you inside me. Take me! Use me!” He begins gently sobbing, but I make him do it with a smile. “My name is Kyle and I’m a sick fuck who’s gonna cum inside and possess his closest friends”. I make us moan. 

Eventually, the seizing stops, and Kyle finds a moment of clarity. With my memories in him, He finds the release built into the Chrysalis and we emerge out of our slick cocoon as one. Sweat and cum trickle out as we come out a new man. A changed man. He walks to mirror in horror, checking himself to look for any wounds in his form. Instead he finds pulsing of my flesh-or what used to be my flesh-at various parts of his body beneath his skin. Abberant. Inhuman.

“Oh god oh god oh god this-this-this, this can’t be happening”. My new heart quickens as Kyle continues to panic. He tries to slap himself awake, but with each slap my control tightens and I make him moan in approval. He feels impossibly full with something-someone pulsing deep inside his skin, integrating. A natural violation of the highest order. He whimpers as he takes nervous, shaking hands all around him, feeling the intrusiveness of the eroticism I feel in being in him. The pulsing in him stops. “Keep going, baby [moan] fill me up. Make me you,” I force him to tell me with a tone that oozed sex. A tone that was alien to his voice. “My name is Kyle and I love dick. I love dick because the man inside me, the man controlling my every action loves dick. And he’s never leaving me. I love that too, because he’s inside me, making me love that.”

“Kyle I’m giving you one last morsel choice before I take it all the way- I decide everything for us from now on” I state to my reflection in the mirror, giving it a slobbery kiss. “We got a cute ass...I’m sure we can snag a few more bodies to play with... I wanna get a little party going. You know, our teammates are pretty cute, aren’t they? Maybe we can stick some me inside them”. I make him lick his lips. “Your frat bros are pretty cute too [moan] you wanna be frat president? I can arrange that, once I make you put me inside them...I’m getting ahead of myself... Let’s start with one. Pick someone...someone we can take, can use, can fuck” I force his face into an out of place, lustful, deranged smile before returning control to him. “Stay the fuck away from my bros! I..... uh...sorry. S-Sorry for shouting. Just please-please! Get out!” he whimpers in desperation, before descending into more hysteric sobbing. Hysteric sobbing which becomes cute, unsettling giggling, which becomes a roaring laughter as I wrestle back control of my new meat-suit. I wipe his tears off my new face, giving it a quick taste before taking a tour of the new me. “You and I both know there is no going back. The old me? Doesn’t exist. I am You, now. This is your body doing these actions, your brain thinking these thoughts”.

A tremor begins from our extremities, limbs become numb as our shared nerves light up in stimulation. More internal sparks fly through us. This was it. Like an earthquake in my new body, a wave of new feelings wash over me, rocking me to my core. The world around us shook, as the final pieces of my physical self interlocks with his and two become one. 

I reach down to pleasure myself, before deciding instead to first push Kyle’s consciousness to the front so he can watch. This would be my first time in this body. Lets make it special. I do a quick reverse crunch, holding the position. Fucking easy in this body. And then pull the crunch close till the body starts to struggle “Arrgh Fuck! Stop!” he screams. I pull even further and he cries from the uncomfortable position I put us in. “This is mine now” I state with his voice, “I decide how far..[pant]..how far we go” And decide I do, as I pull us even further back, prompting another pained “FUCK” from Kyle. I line my growing hard on-our growing hard-on, up to our shared mouth. “Look.. look at what you can do” I moan as him, before letting his consciousness back in front, leaving only control of his face. He is in hysterics as I keep him locked in his position and continue breaking this new bod. 

“Look at what we’re capable of when I’m driving” I state in our shared mind. His head thrashes back and forth before I freeze it in place. I take brief control of just his plump lips and mouth, and position his thick dick inside. Fuck we taste good. Salty, with the smallest hint of bitterness. I continue, pumping head faster and faster, forcing my occupant to feel every motion. We make little noise beyond the soft smacking sounds as we continue. The feeling was fucking euphoria. Im sure he feels it too, since he’s been uncharacteristically quiet. I’ve seen him do his warmup stretches before. I knew what he was capable of- with just a little push from me. When he shoots, when I let him shoot, I keep our shared mouth firmly wrapped around our engorged dick, guzzling our creation greedily. This mouth cannot contain it all and a bit spill below. Even more dribbles out of as I slowly release our position. Wet cum spills and pools on our shared chest and abs. I smear it around like a lotion. 

I jump and stretch myself into straight standing abruptly, forcing a slight jolt of pain from previously contorting this new body in a way it never had to before. His blood rushes through me, through us, and I let out a sigh of relief and contentment in the afterglow of my possession. I lick my new self clean, exploring all of Kyle’s crevices, before I coat our mouth in my new seed for a taste and swallow the excess in one gulp. We taste Delicious. Kyle, you sexy, tasty fuck, I knew there was something different about you. That last stunt seemed to have satisfied him as he recedes into me. I am in a dreamy smile as I tap my head gently with my finger. “All me now”.

The alarm on Kyle’s phone-my phone rings suddenly. Oh Shit. Kyle-er I had a game in a few minutes. I head over to the field with a breeze behind me, to the sight of slight discomfort and subtle gagging from my teammates. Fuck that. Smell more of me motherfuckers. They smile with strained faces as we do some small warmups for the game. His teammates really were cute- I briefly consider possessing them right there in broad daylight. Fuck it, what can anyone fucking do? I’m Kyle. And when Kyle wants something, Kyle gets it. Still, I only came for a test drive, so I decide to postpone their fates.

The match was tense. My teammates were alright, sure. But Kyle? Me? I played his body like an expert- no movement wasted, every single action carefully considered and executed. It was my brain in here after all. Onlookers stared in awe as, almost inhumanly, I block everything that goes my way. Despite my brain’s expert calculation, his body also deserved to praise. His muscled legs gliding my form through the grass, effortlessly, the twisting his body at just the right spot for the most efficient block. This body following my every command, like I’ve owned it for years. The old me was not one for sports, but this? Working his musculature into these complex maneuvers? Straining his form to just the right amount to maximize performance? Bliss. I can see why some people like this shit. The more I move through him, the closer I felt. Despite my heavy panting at the end, I can’t help but feel energized. Being in him is invigorating. I could keep going at this for days and days- this was truly an athlete’s body. 

I do a little dance as, in the end, we squeeze a 1-0 victory. All thanks to me, of course. My teammates brace themselves slightly-likely from the deep, concentrated musk and gallons of sweat I was emanating- before they surround me in a group huddle. New and improved Kyle is kinky little shit though, so I grab and pull their sweaty bodies uncomfortably close, and then squeeze them to me even closer so they can leave with the scent of my sweat on them. They recoil at my actions, at my words, as the normally stoic Kyle gently coos “Great job, team”. They laugh nervously and try to pull away, but I keep them in the embrace just an awkward second too long, sniffing each of them and remarking them. One day, you’ll all be mine.

After the game, I return to our room and look at my sweaty, dirty self in the mirror. I take a whiff of the freshly filthy soccer game and  soccer team smells we impregnate our room with. I take a quick sniff of our shared armpits, deciding to forgo showering this bod. Exquisitely noxious. Not getting rid of this.

I called his girlfriend Steph to break up abruptly over phone, citing my “newfound” sudden onset homosexuality. She was upset, understandably, but supportive. Really, I had no issues with the girl, and in another life, we’d be best friends fawning over the same straight dude. But this was Kyle, new-Kyle, new-gay-Kyle-who-only-loves-possessed-dick. My Kyle. He was mine, and mine alone.

Having finished my short list of post-takeover errands, my new self was on the prowl for some new recruits, new bodies to take, to possess, to pleasure me. Since he never really gave me an answer to my question earlier, I search through the remnants of the Old Kyle in my mind, force them to give me the name of someone to to take. I smiled. In the echoes of my mind, one face, one name reverberated in my head.  

Red.

I start giggling in a cute tone, out of place coming out of jock Kyle before I break out into a full cackle. “Kyle, you sick, sick, fuck...Red? Big Bro Red? After all he’s done to try to bond with you? Sick, incestuous son of a bitch.” I let out a soft moan as I drag my new vascular hands all over myself, stopping at my new nipples to give them a slight tickle, and my eyes flutter. I give them a hard twist, whining in elation when his body delivers the sensations to me. The smells we’ve been emitting has been pungent, concentrated, putrid from that sweaty group hug earlier. “Traitorous, depraved fucks like me don’t deserve a shower” I make him say in dirty whispers.

Red was Kyle’s big bro at the frat, and someone I had only met once previously. Once was enough to leave an impression. Unlike cute, naturally introspective, reserved athlete Kyle, Big Bro Red was extroverted, artsy, and fucking hot. Apparently, he’s been trying to connect to Kyle ever since the two were paired. Well, Kyle’s under new management, and I planned to use every bit of their tenuous relationship to get Big Bro Red under that same management. This was going to be fun. 

I am stopped abruptly as my phone vibrates. “Hey, wanna grab a bite to eat?” I close my eyes in sweet satisfaction, lick my lips seductively and shift my mouth into a filthy smile when I catch the name of who it’s from:

Red. 

—————End—————

Took a bit of inspiration from some past stories I’ve read in writing this one. The story implies a continuation but I’m still a bit on the fence. Hope you liked it/ Happy New Year’s!

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 18

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 3800+

Warnings: Angst, blood, violence

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After receiving information from dispatch about the location of Billy’s cell phone, Thor called in an anonymous tip to Fury’s team, but instead of waiting around, Nat and Thor pulled onto the interstate, following the cellphone south to San Diego. 

Thor stared out the window, resting his elbow on the window railing with his chin in his hand. “I’m sorry, Natasha, for acting like a jerk earlier. I know you were doing your job and following orders. I would’ve done the same.”

“We’ve good,” Nat replied, giving him a once over. “You doing okay?”

“I keep thinking everything will be okay, and everything will work out--” he rubbed his eyes “--but um, I don’t know… I don’t know what we are going to find when we get there? Is she gonna be mad at me, is she going to be hurt, is she gonna be…” Thor took in a sharp breath, clearing his throat. “Billy threatened to kill her once before, you know, and he almost killed Steve. I’m afraid of what we are going to find.”

“Don’t think like that,” Natasha reassured, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll find her.” She bit her lip, nodding to herself for her own reassurance. “YN’s strong…and with everything she went through, she rebuilt her life and herself. Billy might have her, but I have a feeling he has no idea who he is dealing with now.” 

Thor nodded, “If Billy lays another one of his grimy hands on her, he will suffer a fate worse than death. He’ll be…”

“More dead?” Nat asked, trying to contain a chuckle in this highly stressed situation. 

“Yes, but I was thinking more like being stuck in rush hour traffic for the rest of his life,” Thor smirked, trying to keep the conversation light. 

“Oh yes, that sounds so much worse.”

_____________

“Where are we going?” You questioned, sneaking a peek at Billy, gripping the steering wheel. 

“We’re starting over. I’m saving us from this tricky situation you put us in.”

You leaned back into your seat, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Right, because everything is my fault,” you grimaced, rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you get it over with and kill me? I mean, isn’t that your plan.”

“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA,” Billy retorted, widening his eyes. “I can’t imagine my life without you. Why would I want to kill you, YN; I love you. You’re all I have.”

“But, that’s it, you don’t have me,” you mumbled, wringing your hands together. “I just never got a say in the matter.”

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “What’s with this attitude?”

“Well…what more do I have to lose? I lost my friends and family…like yesterday, and now, you’re all I have,” you admitted with a shrug. “It’s what you wanted, right? Me and you, both ghosts, living in the shadows, or did this car come with new identities, too? Oh wait, is that what’s in the duffle bag in the backseat?”

“Why would you think that?” He narrowed his eyes, licking his lips.

“Well, a creepy guy with a scar and milky eye drops off a car at a gas station. Now, doesn't that sound like the start of a bad joke? I mean, he definitely didn’t look like a criminal or a bad guy in his dark suit, and his name sounded so original, Agent Orange. I think I know a few people by that name.” You pressed your lips together, tilting your head. “On the other hand, if he looked like a dad, wearing crispy white boys on his feet, jean shorts, and a polo shirt. It would have been an immediate red flag.”

Billy smirked, shaking his head. “Luckily for you, you don’t have to worry. I have our lives all planned out, but I did miss your snarky attitude. Whatever happened to it?”

“I will give you a hint,” you leaned over the center console, “if you look in a mirror, you could probably spot the reason.” 

“Touche,” He added, cracking a smile, making the corners of his dark eyes crinkle. He gently grabbed your hand in his, sending an unpleasant shiver through your body, and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. You tried not to make a face as he lowered your conjoined hands back onto the center console. 

“I want you to know it isn’t going to be like this forever. We’ll get past this like we always do. I will forgive you, you will forgive me, and we’ll start over in this new city, meet new people, and create a whole new life for ourselves.” He squeezed your hand. “You can forget about the life you created yourself because you're never going back to that. This is our chance to start over...together.” 

____________

Nat pulled up behind two other police cruisers and a Chrysler 300 Black Sedan. Thor jumped out before she could get it into park and jogged up to the Chrysler but was stopped by Fury's hand. 

“Thor, for what do I owe this pleasure?” Fury asked, his one eye-widening, looking him up and down.

“Is she here? Is my sister here?” Thor gulped, looking past Fury to try and get a better look, but the officers were retreating away from the vehicle. 

“No, she’s not.” Thor’s shoulder sank, letting out a breath. “But, I assume you were the one who called in the anonymous tip.”

“Me… anonymous tip…no, no, that doesn’t sound like something I would do.” He shook his head while Nick stared him down.

“Odinson, I listened to the tape, and it sounded just like you.”

“Did it? Huh?” Thor rubbed his chin, staring hard at the ground.

“Seeing it will be better if we just work together at this point. I want you to know that we were able to recover the video surveillance from your sister's home, and we can confirm it was her husband, Billy Russo.” 

“I told you this. I told you the night it happened.” Thor shook his head. “And it’s her ex. Ex-husband,” Thor corrected, placing his hands on his hips. “So what…we have nothing now?”

“Russo is smart and is playing his moves carefully. He knows what he is doing, making all the right moves, but he'll mess up, and when he does, we will find him.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from him given his background,” Nat stated, coming up to stand next to Thor. “Are we even sure this is the right vehicle?”

Fury narrowed his eyes at her, raising his voice. “Believe it or not Ms. Romanoff, but we do know how to track a phone and find a vehicle.” She smirked at his change in attitude. “And for your information, there was a 911 call placed earlier this morning from a gas station near San Diego. A mother and daughter found a note with YN’s name, Russo’s name, the vehicle description, and the license plate number. It said to give this information to the police. This would explain how Russo’s phone ended up in this car.” Nick pointed over his shoulder at the Chrysler. “YN made a smart move, but Russo must have pulled a fast one on her and switched cars at the last minute, so it doesn’t do us much good right now.”

“Did they see YN at all? Was she okay? Was she hurt...”

Fury held up his hand, and Thor shut his mouth. “Yes. The woman mentioned her looking a little beaten up but seemed hopeful.”

“When I find this bastard, I am going to…” Thor bit his tongue, clenching his fist and punching it into his palm. He mumbled to himself, shaking his head, stepping away from them.

“How’s your friend in the hospital? Any word yet?” Fury asked Nat, who narrowed her eyes at the scene behind him.

“He’s in recovery now. They're keeping a close eye on him.”

“Good.” Fury’s eye caught on to Thor’s unexplainable gestures while he paced back and forth. “What would you say about getting your friend a bulletproof vest; he looks like he could do something reckless.”

“I do have an extra one in the cab; I’ll give it to him for safe measure.”

“Excellent.”

“Since this is the correct car, who is the man behind the wheel? Any connection to Russo?” Nat questioned, staring at the black sedan. Thor returned, giving Nat a reassuring nod.

“We haven’t looked into much yet, but his name is William Rawlins. He is the COO of Cerberus and says it’s a company vehicle but doesn’t know who used it before him. He checked it out to run a quick errand over his lunch break, but we are headed back to his office now to look over the record logs.”

“What’s Cerberus?” Thor asked, looking between Nat and Nick for more information.

“It’s a security firm in San Diego, but I think they have different branches all over the country now. It protects public officials, and they also have a private investigating sector that started up a few years ago. I was on a case with one of their ‘agents’ as they call themselves, and he was an asshole.” Nat informed him, Nick nodded in agreement.

“Sounds a lot like Anvil,” Thor added, rubbing a hand over his scruff. “If this is a company vehicle, then someone must be helping Billy. For all we know it’s this Rawlins, and he’s playing us.”

“As much as we want to speculate at this point, it’s too early to tell.” Nat shrugged, and Fury nodded.

“Why would Cerberus remind you of Anvil? What is this Anvil?” Nick inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, it’s a security firm Billy works at in New York City. He’s in the private investigating sector there.”

“Is there any reason to believe that Anvil is a branch of Cerberus?” Nat raised a brow at him, and Thor narrowed his eyes, processing the information.

“If there is a connection between the two, this could be it,” Nick answered.

_____________

You sat back in the passenger seat, opening up the glove box, seeing a map of California, New Mexico, Nevada, and Arizona. “Where is this new home of ours going to be?”

“You’ll see,” Billy replied with his elbow resting on the door and his head in his hand.

“What are you going to expect me to do? Am I going to get a job, or are you going to make me stay at home and be your trophy wife?”

“Would that be a bad thing? It’s not like you liked being a 911 dispatcher.”

You swallowed, wringing your hands together. “But, I did.”

He scoffed, shaking his head.“You like being in the action, getting dirty in the line of duty, and seeing it first hand. You don’t like being behind a desk, waiting to answer a monitor every time a call comes in.”

“I might not be where the action is, but I am still helping people. I might not see them or get to meet them, but I’m here to help them with whatever they are going through. Using your voice to help is hard, but sometimes that’s all people need to hear to put them at ease and give them a sense of safety.”

“Hmmm, okay,” he snorted, smirking into his hand. 

“You have to give me something.”

“I don’t have to give you anything,” he grumbled, running his hand through his hair. 

“Well, how do you expect me to trust you again if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

He licked his lips, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Trust me; You want to know how you can trust me? That’s rich because I could ask you the same question. Can I trust you?” 

“You don’t have to trust me, but don’t you think I should know what we are getting into. Shouldn’t we at least have a plan once we get to where we are going? People ask questions, Billy, and don’t you think it would be a good idea to figure it out before we get there?”

Billy remained silent, gripping the steering wheel tight. He licked his lips, scrunching up his face enough to form a crease on his forehead. “Do you think I’m an idiot? How do I know that if I tell you, you aren’t going to use the first phone you find to call someone.”

“You don’t,” you answered with a shrug. “But you’re gonna have to trust me a little eventually if you want to make us work again.”

He glanced between you and the road, fighting a battle in his head. He clenched his jaw, letting out a defeated breath. “You’re right; you’re always right.” He licked his lips, shaking his head. “I’m giving us the fresh start we both need, and everything we need is in the bag in the back.”

You turn in your seat, reaching for the bag, and put it on your lap. You unzip it, staring at the contents inside. A rubber band was wrapped around new Arizona IDs and new passports with new names on them. A container with an assortment of keys and enough cash that could get you through at least a few months. 

You reached into the bottom of the bag and pulled out three framed pictures of you and Billy. One of you posing and smiling at each other when you first started seeing each other, another one of you at the wedding altar saying I do, and the third, standing close to each other on your honeymoon with the ocean behind you. You swallowed, staring at each one. They were supposed to bring back happy memories, but it only brought back the nightmares this relationship turned into. 

“It’s not a home without a few personal touches, right?” Billy shot you a warm smile, and as much as you wished it was sincere, you knew it wasn’t.

“Right,” you breathed, putting everything back and tossing it in the backseat. “So we are moving to Phoenix, then what?”

Billy raised his eyebrows. “We’re going to lay low for a bit until this mess dies down, and I can trust you again.” He throws you a quick glance, rubbing his gauze-wrapped wrist where Cosmo bit him. “Then, once we are a happy couple again, I’ll be taking on a new position at the Cerberus Phoenix branch.”

“What do you expect me to do once we are a happy couple again?” You bit your lip, feeling a lump rise in your throat. 

“Let’s not get into specifics right now.” He reached over and grabbed your hand.  “I want you to focus on forgetting about your life in LA and everyone in it. They’re not important anymore. It’s you and me, together forever, like we always planned.” He nodded, squeezing your hand for reassurance. 

You gave him a quick nod, fighting the tears threatening to escape. You turned your head to look out the passenger side window. The world outside was becoming a blur, and you were stuck inside with Billy, and there was no way to get out. He had a solid plan that left little room for error. Once they arrived in Phoenix, you wouldn’t exist anymore; Billy wouldn’t exist anymore. You would disappear, and those you cared about would be left wondering. Wondering if you were okay; wondering if you were even still alive; wondering how they let this happen to you. You blinked, feeling a few tears escape down your cheeks as you swallowed back a sob. Your friends, family, and Steve were gone, and right now, you might as well be too. 

____________

The police unit pulled into Cerberus, following the Chrysler through the electric gate and up the short drive until they came across a facility beyond the gate. It was a modern building, heavily secured and well secluded from the main road. 

Fury and Nat walked behind Rawlins while Thor stayed towards the back, taking everything in. He readjusted his bullet-proof vest underneath his shirt and sweatshirt, trying to get used to the tight feeling around his upper body. He didn’t want to wear it, but Nat insisted.

Inside the building, everything had white and gray tones to it from the furniture to the walls. Everything looked pristine and clean, almost like they were hiding something. Thor smiled at the lady behind the front desk, causing her to blush. He continued following the rest of the group up the floating steps to the second floor to an office at the end of the hall.

Fury and Nat began questioning Rawlins, sitting behind his desk. Thor stood off towards the back of the room, half-listening and half scanning his surroundings. If something was connecting him to Russo, he wasn’t going to talk about it; instead, he would have to search for it. 

His office looked like every big wig’s office he’d seen in the movies.  Floor to ceiling windows, showcasing a beautiful view of the trees on the property. Another wall was lined with artwork and a few bookshelves, filled with books that were probably more for show than actual reading. Thor’s eyes traveled to the walls behind him, noticing a bunch of framed photos hanging on the wall in sort of a college way. He took a step closer, noticing how each frame had an engraved plate under it, stating what branch of Cerberus it was and its location.  

“Would anyone else have access to company vehicles?” Fury asked with his pad and pen in hand.

“No, only company employees.”

“Does that include employees from other branches of Cerberus or just current in-house employees, so to speak.”

“Nope, all employees from any branch are welcome to a vehicle as long as they have proper ID,” Rawlins answered, leaning back in his chair. “Who is the young lady that is missing? Maybe one of my teams can assist you. We don’t do many missing person cases, but we are more than happy to help.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Fury replied, holding up his hand. “But, we do have reason to believe you know the captor.”

“I’m sorry.” Rawlins looked taken aback, and in some ways, offended. “But this is news to me. I have many employees, so you will have to be more specific.”

Thor read off the frames one by one and glanced at every single picture. He needed to find a connection so he could find you. He clenched his jaw, reading the plates: Vistacorp, Arizona; Vancorp, Texas, and his eyes stopped on the next photo. He didn’t even need to read the plate to know it said Anvil, New York City. He narrowed his eyes at the picture, seeing Rawlins shaking Billy’s hand, and he had that stupid smile on his face that could win everyone over. 

“His name is Billy Russo.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t recall anyone by that name.”

Thor growled, tearing the picture off the wall, starling everyone, and marched across the room. “Don’t know him, then why are you shaking his hand in this picture,” Thor shouted, throwing the picture on the desk. 

“Oh, look at that he works at the New York branch.” Rawlins scanned the picture before placing it back on the table. “Why are you including me in this accusation? I don’t have anything to do with him or this abduction. I didn’t even know he was in town.” He sat up straighter in his chair, folding his hands together, and placed them on the desk in front of him.

An officer opening the door pulled everyone’s attention away from Rawlins and to the female officer. She handed Fury a piece of paper, whispering something in his ear. Fury nodded, dismissing her. He unfolded the paper, reading what it said before folding it backup and stuffing it in his pocket. “It’s a bit funny how this picture is saying one thing, and you’re saying something completely different. It’s like the picture is lying, and you are telling the truth. I don’t know what I am supposed to believe.”

“I am telling the truth. I have had no contact with--” he pulls the picture back to him “--this Russo since this picture.”

“Then, why was Russo the last person to check out the car, and according to this, he has yet to return the vehicle back to this facility. So how did you check the car out at noon if it wasn’t even on-site?”

Rawlins sat on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the three of them. He licked his lips and tilted his head at them. “Huh? How about that?” He let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, I honestly thought it was going to take you longer to figure it out, Detective Fury, but you surprised me. All of you did.” He pointed to each of them, his sinister smile never faltering. 

“Where is she?” Thor growled, leaning over the table mere inches from Rawlins's face.

“That’s the thing about Billy,” he licked his lips, challenging Thor. “He is sneaky and quiet. He can hide in plain sight, is fast on his feet, and knows just the right time to strike. If you haven’t found them yet, you aren’t going to. They're both gone, and you’re going to have to live with the fact that you failed her.”

Without further hesitation, Thor punched him straight in the face and knocked him to the floor. Thor slid across the desk to find Rawlins, clutching his broken nose as it bled into his mouth. Thor grabbed him by the collar and punched him again when an officer rushed over and dragged Thor off of him. Thor grunted, pushing the officer into the wall with his nostrils flaring. He headed right back for Rawlins, but Nat stood in his path, pushing on his chest and forcing him to stop.  

“Forget about him. Don’t listen to him, Thor,” Nat commanded. “He’s not worth it; put this energy into finding YN and Russo, and then take it out on him.” Thor stopped in an instant, giving her a quick nod.  

The officer that held Thor back went over to Rawlins and put his face down on the hardwood floor. He started reading him his Miranda Rights and slipped the cuffs around his wrists.

“You’re lucky only your nose is broken, and both your eyes don’t match, asshole,” Thor threatened as Rawlins was escorted out of the office. 

“Feel better?” Fury asked, standing up from his seat.

“No,” Thor answered in a gruff voice, leaning against Rawlins desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “He’s right, you know…Billy is good at hiding. I mean, we didn’t even know he was following her.” He ran a hand down his face. “He does this for a living. Reads crime scenes, follows the evidence, finds suspects, and solves cases. He knows what we are looking for and makes sure to drive us in the opposite direction. He is good at what he does and probably even better at making someone disappear.”

______

 AN: Thanks for reading Part 18! Just when you think they have something to go on, they are one more step behind. Thor sure did sack Rawlins pretty good though, but he did deserve it. And it's a good thing Rawlins was slacking on his paperwork, or maybe he just didn't have time to change the name to who checked the car out! 🤷‍♀️ On the plus side, at least they were able to track Billy's cellphone (the wrong one, but it was something), they know about the note she left in the gas station, found 'the other guy' but still got nothing...or do they?! 🤔 Not sure if any of you understood the crispy white boys reference, but it's usually the white tennis shoes dads wear on their feet! It's an Instagram reference me and my friends use all the time now! 😂😂 I will say she is getting more confident and seems to be pushing all the right buttons to get information from him, but he isn't giving much away. And can she trust him enough to know that he is telling the truth? The plot thickens...as always thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome! 

[btssunnyboy]

Deadly Protection - Choi San - PART 1

The hate he felt for his other clients, was nothing compared to how he felt about you. But maybe him liking you, isn’t the best possible outcome.

Word Count - 3,036

Warning - Progressive yandere, profanity, Chan is fucking mean, one misogynistic comment, and a sexual innuendo.

BTS , NCT , ATEEZ - Request Open

__________________________________________

Working with over pampered celebrities was his expertise. He knew all the in and outs of this industry, but he had too. As much as he hated the people he worked with, he was still getting paid to protect them with his life. In order to do so he needed to know every possible outcome of every possible situation. And that hatred for those other clients built a pit of anger and despair in his stomach as he walked closer to the door. The thought of meeting the shitty person behind almost made him change his mind and walk away. But that key word almost is something big that should be taken into consideration. With a deep breath, San swallowed his pride and proceeded to make his presence known to those in the room.

A few sets of eyes shifted towards his direction and the only thing he could do is bow his head. Within a second those in the room turned back to their original conversation and paid the man in the comer no mind as he stared off aimlessly through the window. It was oddly strange that no one was rushing up to him, or pointing him towards the one person he was sworn to protect. This whole ordeal was causing a pit to rise in his stomach, and his gut feelings were always right.

“She has to be on set in ten minutes! Where is she!” One of the women in the dressing room bellowed out loudly as she checked her watch for the third time. Her eyes acted as if they were gonna pop out of her skull at any given moment. And that made San’s blood run cold. Was this mystery lady about to be another pain in his ass, were you somehow even more of a spoiled, entitled bitch then he had thought? Should San give up this opportunity right here, right now.

Another lady in the room, that he assumed was an assistant, came up behind the previous woman and tried to soothe her. Small back rubs and encouraging words did not seem to do the trick, as he watched her hissy fit continue to unfold in front of him. The assistant took a shaky breath into her lungs before she spoke, “Listen, Y/n has never let you down before! I promise, it’s probably just traffic that’s keeping them.”

Ah, so his client is the famous Y/n, who is known for her more villainous roles on the silver screen. If you’re anything like you’re characters, he’s gonna take that as a big red flag. But before he could form more of an obnoxious opinion on you, the dressing room door was being pushed open. Rather harshly as it made San stumble about, before he could reach for the gun that was hidden within the confines of his jacket just as his fingertips grazed the holster, he was met with pleading eyes. That was just begging for some peace at that moment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize you were standing there.” The voice was panicked as you rushed to his aid. Your eyes as wide as they’d go as you looked over his arm. Almost as if you were more worried about the built man in the corner then your own safety. As you had walked up to a complete stranger without inspecting more of your surroundings. “Are you okay, do you need anything?”

San’s curiosity spiked just by watching you interact with him, as you’ve known each other since you were kids. Your soft hands rested on his bicep as you tried to inspect for any injuries that you may have caused. And he found it quite cute when reliziation hit you, and you tried to make the distance between two of you greater. You were invading his personal space, and he appreciates you backing off. But before he could even answer your questions, the assistant from before harshly shoved her shoulder into his.

“Y/n, where the hell were you! Sasha has been panicking like crazy!” San felt his eye twitch at the high pitched voice of the assistant. They could have been nicer with this whole ordeal, it’s not that hard to ask a question. But instead this lady wanted to raise her voice and practically spit in your face, and then have the audacity to get mad when you took a few moments to answer. “You’ve got a voice, don’t you?”

“Amber I’m so sorry I was late, but traffic was terrible and random cars kept following me.” You explained as you tried to put down your purse. When you made eye contact with him, for some reason it felt nice and familiar. Even though you know for a fact you have never met this man in your life. “I promise this won’t happen again.”

“It better not, or you can kiss any letter or recommendations goodbye.” Sasha stormed out of the dressing room and dragged Amber along with her. A saddened look on her face as they simply brushed right passed you. “You have less than ten minutes to get ready for the scene.”

You harshly rubbed your hands down your face as you took in a deep breath. All these doubtful thoughts of the movie started racing in, and you wondered if this was all worth. Getting treated like trash just because you were late one time, and then threatening to trash your name up and down the boulevard. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why Amber decided to take her anger out on you.”

“You say sorry too much, besides that hit felt like nothing.” San slightly smiled as he tried to keep the conversation small. Those two were already pissed and he doesn’t want you getting into any more trouble. He cleared his throat loudly as he started towards the door. “I will just step outside and let you get ready. Just knock on the door three times and we’ll head down to the set.”

Before he could step out the door, you held out your hand. A small gesture, that he was not used to at all. He was used to getting yelled at to guard the doors and make sure no pervert is snooping through the windows. His wrinkled eyebrows gave away his confusion as he eyed your hand just a little bit longer than necessary. The small rings that glittered in the light complimented your hand nicely, everything seemed to compliment you nicely. “Just so we’re starting off on the right foot, I’m Y/n, and I’m going to guess that you’re Choi San my new bodyguard.”

It was oddly strange how the first interaction with you had San’s heart beating a little faster than normal. He was so used to being with distasteful people, that didn’t care about anyone but themselves. But truth be told everything felt different when it came to you. You apologize profusely even when things weren’t your fault, you never raise your voice and you’re always so kind. Even to some of the dumb people that over step their boundaries, but that’s his job to pay attention to those types of people. It’s his job to protect you and yet it seems like you’d lay it all on the line to protect him.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but he does feel a connection. A connection that runs deeper than a simple coworker type of relationship, but at the same time he knows this has to stay strictly in the business type of situation. But at this moment it’s not like he could act on these so-called feelings, as your manager had other plans for your own love life. Which was stupid in his opinion, as you were your own perosn and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

“Don’t they just look fantastic together!” Sasha gushed beside him as she looked at her new couple. You were standing there semi awkwardly as the dude proceeded to put his arm around your waist. But it started to drift lower and lower and San could feel his blood boil within. Before he could even step one foot forward, you calmly removed his arm altogether. Within a second Sasha had to put her two cents in once more. “Y/n, stop! That pose is perfect, it shows how close you two are!”

“No offense, Sasha, but Chan and I barely know each other.” You forced a tight lipped as Chan’s hand tried to rub soothing circles on your hip. This relationship is just PR for the new movie you two are, but it felt so grimy. Lying to your fans just so they’ll buy a ticket and waste their own money on you. Just because they see the two main characters getting close with one another.

“I mean you could always take me up on my offer, and go on a date with me.” Chan smiled flirtatiously at you as he twisted your body to face him. His eyes staring longingly into your while his hands began to move to your lower back. Then he leaned over to whisper in your ear so that no one could hear. “Besides, if you have a good time at dinner, maybe we can have some more fun back at my hotel room.”

You kept your mouth shut because you knew that if you opened your mouth vomit would cover him from head to toe. But it seems like that decision was already made for you, as Sasha’s eyebrows quirked up at the idea. The idea of her two leading costars getting flirty at a candle lit dinner. It would drive the press crazy which in result would drive up so much more buzz about the movie. “That’s perfect, Amber will have everything set up by tonight!”

Dread filled your entire body at the thought of having to spend a night with him. You know it’s for press, and you know it’s for the fans, but still it’s the thought is stomach turning. But beside you, Chan, was having the opposite reaction. One of his eyebrows were cocked in and he wore a sly smirk. You could tell that his stomach was filled with something else than bile, like yours was. His fingertips brushed against your chin, as he pulled your face a little closer. His lips barely brushed against yours, as he softly spoke. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

You watched him walk away as you tried to keep your composure, but it was hard. Dealing with a guy like him was terrible. They never took social cues, or read the room in any way. The only thing that filled their blown up head of getting laid. Quickly slipping away you tried to make it back to the dressing room without anyone noticing, but you knew that you’d always have a shadow.

“Why can’t they have his girlfriend in the show go on a date with him! I’m his rival, what good is gonna come from this.” You huffed lightly as you turned to face the man that followed you. “I’m sorry you probably don’t wanna hear all my complaining.”

“Talking helps, and it’s obvious you need someone to listen.” San shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat on the plush couch, but he tried to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. “And I’m your bodyguard. I'm here to help with any problems you might have, so lay it on me.”

For once someone actually cared to listen to what you have to say. It felt like a wave of relief washed over you, because you felt safe having this conversation with him. You hoped that after this you two would have more conversations, because seriousness isn’t needed every second of the day. You just hoped he felt that way too.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t take long.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m all ears no matter how long it takes.”

_______________________________________

You lightly patted down the bottom of your dress as you started walking towards the elevator. Chan had asked you to meet him down in the lobby, because he said he has a small surprise. Even though you know you needed to focus on the man you’re about to go on a date with you couldn’t. As cliche as it sounds you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to San. The poor guy who has his ear talked off for over an hour, just by you complaining about Chan. But he still listened, his eyes were alert with every single word that passed through your lips. You sighed heavily as the elevator dinged showing that you were now on the right floor.

“You look stunning.” Chan said, surprisingly nice. Without the hint of any sexual undertones to it. You smiled slightly as you gripped his outstretched hand. He may be acting nice now, but you know you never should let that guard down tonight. Here’s to two hours of your life that you’re never gonna get back.

“You’re not gonna be quiet the whole dinner are you?” Chan jokes as he tries to nonchalantly sip his drink. His eyes stared back into yours with curiosity swimming in them, but he waited patiently for your answer. “Hmm?”

“I’m just looking through the menu right now,” You tried to keep yourself busy as long as possible. Because no offense to him, but you could feel your brain cells deteriorating the more you spoke to him. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and go to sleep. For once sleep seems a lot more interesting than keeping a conversation going with this man. You bit back the urge to laugh as you heard him huff.

“For fifteen minutes? Damn, I didn’t realize picking a meal could be that hard.” His words made your head pulse with a headache every time he decided to speak. But the stupid look on his face made it clear that he thought his words were just conversational pieces. And it took all the willpower in your body to not chuck the wine in your glass at him. But he didn’t seem to care as he started to scroll aimlessly through his stupid phone.

The moment the waiter came over you quickly rushed your order out of your mouth. The sooner you say it the sooner it might come, and the sooner you can leave this ass in the restaurant. Throughout dinner you could feel eyes staring holes into the back of your head. But every time you tried to catch a glimpse of them, they’d always disappear. Your soul nearly left your body as a rough hand was placed upon your shoulder.

“You need to leave, right now.” San has a calm demeanor, but you could tell something was wrong by the sternness in his voice. Chan eyed him worriedly, as he watched him out his arm around your waist. Before you two even stepped one foot out of the restaurant he placed his jacket over your head. You assumed it was to protect you from the rain. “Keep your head down, and walk as fast as you can. I’ll explain everything when we’re in your hotel room.”

You listened without a second thought as you raced back to your room. Ignoring the pain in your ankles from your high heels digging into them harshly. The only thing on your mind was the way San’s hands rested protectively rested on your waist. Before you stepped into the hotel you noticed all the vans that were starting to surround the restaurant and many different people emerged from them. Paparazzi, along with fans seemed to camp out in front of the restaurant. Now you were glad to be in the safe walls of San’s hotel room.

“Chan sent a tweet exposing your location and people started to figure out the hotel you were staying at as well. So I knew I needed to get you out of there as soon as possible.” Of course that dumb ass tweeted out where you two were. But then again it doesn’t surprise you, he’s always been one who loves any type of attention that he could receive. “Maybe it’s best you stay in my room tonight, just in case any fans put two and two together.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother, and besides you have to deal with me enough.” You tried to waive off his offer, even though you knew this was a good idea. You were safer with him no matter. And the thought of someone getting into your hotel room scared the hell out of you.

“Once again, it’s my job to protect you no matter what. And besides Chan is still at the restaurant they’re gonna follow him, and I’d rather not have the thought of you alone on my mind. So please just stay.” San pleaded as he tried to fix the spare bed. Making sure it was comfortable enough for you to sleep in. He smiled slightly as you gave a quick nod, before announcing that you were going to return to your room for a change of clothes. He knew at that moment you were too nice for your own good, and he’s going to have to step up his game in order to keep you safe.

San didn’t understand what came over him that night. Watching you shake slightly under your cover was tearing him to pieces and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand why he’s even having these feelings all together, considering you were supposed to be a job, not anything else. But he picked Chan’s lock without a second thought and proceeded to show him why exposing your location was a bad idea. Chan’s room was unrecognizable, by the time San was down with it.

Glass shattered in every direction, piles of it littered the floor. Multiple pieces of his clothes were ripped and torn straight from the seams. His bed was turned upside down, with the sheets thrown across the room. Hopefully this gets San’s message across, but he’d be more than happy to take this straight to Chan’s face.

[comfortwriting]

Daydreams and Detention

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompts: 52, 53, 58.

52: In the background of your daydreams, you could hear Professor Snape drawling on at you “pay attention!”

53: “you make me the happiest person on earth, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

58: “see you in detention”

Requested/About: The Reader is daydreaming about Fred in Potions class, Snape gives her and detention and they run away to make her dreams become a reality.

Warnings: swearing, smut, sex, lots of fluff!

“You’re beautiful” Fred said softly, running his fingers through your hair “the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You blushed and giggled nervously, getting on your tip toes to kiss him, your soft lips brushing against his, the scent and taste of cinnamon attacking your senses.

Fred lifted you into his arms and walked across the room, placing you down on the bed, unbuttoning your white shirt whilst planting kisses down your soft, delicate neck. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, your index finger and thumb pulling on your bottom lip. 

“so bloody gorgeous” Fred murmured softly, finally taking off your top. 

You slammed your legs shut, feeling yourself getting excited for what would unfold next - but unfortunately in the background of your daydreams, you could hear Professor Snape drawling on at you “pay attention!” 

Jumping out of your seat and being snatched away from your daydreams you instantly remembered where you were and who was around you, Fred stared at you and so did the rest of the class - your cheeks flushed red, you let go of your now red lips.

“You’re not going to go far in life Miss Y/L/N if you continue to daydream in my class, especially if it concerns Weasley.” Snape glared.

The whole class erupted into laughter, making comments about the two of you under their breaths, Fred went just as red as you but he wasn’t embarrassed, he actually felt quite flattered. 

You bowed your head in shame, your face on fire “sorry Professor” 

Fred stared at you, Snape walked back to his projector and continued to go through the slides. 

You stared back at Fred and frowned “sorry” you whispered “I didn’t mean to-”

Fred smirked back at you, mischief playing on his lips “you fancy me then?” he asked, looking rather pleased with himself.

You looked behind you, Snape bothering another student. “Well yeah, I thought it was bloody obvious.” 

Fred licked his lips “yeah, well-”

Snape glided across the room, now standing beside your desk “this will be the last time the two of you interfere in my class, one hundred points from Gryffindor and Y/H, I’ll be seeing you both in detention this evening.”

By the end of potions class, not only were you mortified, you were incredibly nervous about spending any extra time with Snape - especially when he was more annoyed than usual.

Packing your things away, George and Lee stood in the dungeons doorway, calling out for Fred to hurry up or he’ll miss out. 

“see you in detention” He winked, grabbing his books and taking off before you could reply.

“It appears Mr Weasley won’t be joining us” Snape drawled out again, clasping his hands together. 

You scrunched your eyebrows together and sighed ‘typical’ you thought ‘gets me all excited to see him and he doesn’t even show up’

Snape slammed a box full of ingredients on the table in front of you and walked over to his desk, shuffling some test papers and dropping them in front of him. 

“Since your boyfriend isn’t here, you’ll have to work twice as hard preparing tomorrows ingredient for a practical - I’d hurry up if I were you.”

You nodded your head and started to go through the grimy box, your hands sweating inside your gloves. 

Hearing a loud and urgent knock at the door, Snape glared and got out of his seat hurrying over to the door. 

Focusing on the work in front of you, you felt a hand grab you by the arm. Fred appeared from underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak and ushered you to get underneath it, he held your hand and pulled you into him.

Sneaking across the room, Fred kicked a pile of sparkling clean cauldrons, causing them to topple over like dominoes, crashing against the cold hard floor.

Snape, still standing in the doorway, turned around noticing the sight of his equipment and your empty seat - he grabbed the scared first year and pushed him into the room, you and Fred slipping through the doorway and escaping the dungeons. 

“You planned all this?!” you whispered, running with Fred through the corridors. 

Fred smiled widely and glanced at you for a moment, your excitement making butterflies appear in his tummy “with the help of Harry and that first year, yeah.” 

The two of you mounted the moving stairs, trying to catch your breath under the cloak “got to say, I’m very impressed Freddie”

Appearing in front of the portrait, Fred muttered the password breathlessly and brought you into the Gryffindor common room. 

Removing the cloak, he passed it to Harry, not letting go of your hand even though his twin and younger brother were now staring at the two of you.

“thanks for that, Harry” he gave him a thumbs up, dragging you out of the lively common room and into his empty dorm. 

Entering his room, Fred shut the door, locking it and applying the silencing charm. Resting against his dresser, you watched Fred and felt your heart skip a beat - you were here earlier in your dreams.

Fred faced you and walked over to you, his hands brushing against your thighs “what were you daydreaming about, love?” he asked softly, looking into your eyes.

 Letting go of the dresser, you dropped your hands down by your side, your fingers brushing against Fred’s, you chewed on your lip nervously “us, you”

Fred pursed his lips, taking hold of your hand, lacing his fingers in yours “what happened?” 

You looked away from Fred, you didn’t want to believe that he could or would make fun of you - but you couldn’t help but think he would. 

“why should I tell you?” you huffed, his thumb now brushing over your hand.

Fred sighed “because...” he paused for a moment “you make me the happiest person on earth, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t know what to say - everything you ever wanted and hoped for had finally been confirmed, you felt your cheeks go red and your face heat up once more; but like Fred in potions, you weren’t embarrassed, you were flattered. 

“I-I’m in love with you too Freddie.” 

Fred’s free hand rested against your cheek, stroking your face with his thumb, he leaned in and kissed you, your soft lips sparking against his cinnamon scented lips. He let go of your hand and sneaked it around the back of your waist, deepening the kiss and pulling you into him, he dragged his tongue against your bottom lip for entrance and you accepted. 

Whilst his tongue fought for dominance against yours, he lifted you up into his arms - your legs around his lips and your arms resting over his shoulders, Fred carried you over to his bed and laid you down gently. 

His long and gentle fingers unbuttoned your white shirt, pulling away from the kiss you nodded “I want this Freddie” you breathed, blushing at the sight of his pink and swollen lips. 

“I want this too, Y/N” he replied, now working on your tie, leaving you in your bra and thong. 

Fred pulled off his jumper and shirt whilst you slid down your skirt, you tried to reach for the covers to hide yourself - you hadn’t been this bare in front of anyone for a very long time. 

“are you cold, love?” Fred asked softly, taking off his trousers.

You shook your head “no, I’m - I’m just a bit nervous.”

Fred climbed on top of you “I’m nervous too Y/N” he planted a kiss on your forehead.

Your fingers went through his soft golden hair, massaging his scalp whilst the two of you started to kiss again, your tongues dancing together.

You could feel yourself getting wet and Fred’s cock got harder, poking through his boxers making a tent. Fred’s hands went behind your back and unclipped your bra, pulling it off whilst kissing you. One of his hands gently squeezed your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple - making it go hard.

Fred pulled away from the kiss and started to kiss down your neck, softly sucking on your sweet spot leaving his marks on you for everyone to see, to know you’re his.

You tugged at the waistband on his boxers and pulled them down, seeing his hard cock spring out and slap against his lower tummy, making you blush even more, moaning against the feeling of him sucking your neck.

“Oh Fred”

Fred pulled away and pulled down your underwear, kissing your bare thighs and legs.

Fred reached out and grabbed a condom from his bedside table, you watched as he placed the condom onto his length on which silky lube appeared.

Fred got on his keens and bent forward, lining his hard cock against your entrance. Placing your legs around Fred’s hips, Fred held your waist and leant down to kiss you - pushing himself inside of you slowly and gently.

“You’re so bloody beautiful, Y/N” Fred moaned out.

Gasping out adjusting to Fred’s size, you held onto him tightly, feeling himself get comfortable inside of you, you encourage him to continue.

“You’re so tight, love” Fred grunted, loving the feeling of your walls around him “you feel incredible”

Fred penetrated you deeper and picked up the pace, beads of sweat lining across his forehead. Your moans and Fred’s groans filled the room, the sound of him making love to you more arousing than you could ever imagine.

“You feel so good Fred” you moaned out, pulling Fred closer to you as your tightened your legs around him.

Fred pulled out a pillow and placed it underneath you, propping you up so he could get deeper inside of you, he took hold of your legs and placed them over his shoulders.

Thrusting faster and faster, Fred started to slam into you, his name spilling out of your mouth into moans and drowning the room with his grunts and the sound of him slapping against you.

The sight of you enjoying yourself, feeling Fred’s pleasure, the sound of your moans only aroused Fred even more - in his eyes, you’re everything: stunning, perfect, heavenly, his everything.

“I’m getting close, Freddie.” You moaned out.

Fred pulled your legs down from his shoulders so you could wrap them around his hips, Fred wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his arms, making him as close to you as could he could be.

“I’m getting close too darling”

Coming undone together, Fred gasped out and kissed your lips long and hard before pulling out, taking off the condom and laying next you, pulling you into his arms.

“So” he breathed out, trying to catch his breath “is this what you daydreamed about?”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers in his “you could say that.”

tag list: @amourtentiaa , @inglourious-imagines , @reeophidian

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire, Pt. 2

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: heavy kissing/touching, some language. WC: 4,072. Episode References: 19x13 & 22x04.

A certified workaholic, Rafael had little to no time for any kind of romantic relationships. His last one, with Yelina, years prior, ended badly. It was during that relationship he had expressed deep feelings and she rebuked him, using him as a stepping stone to his former friend, Alex Muñoz. That was not to say he was celibate; he had needs - desires; and he bid his time with men and women who also exhibited similar interests. They warmed the bed, but never the heart. It was just easier to focus on work - work required no emotion.

Rafael found his mind wandering as the cab took him home. He was drawn to you the moment he stepped through the 8th floor doors where all the junior ADAs were working. He recalled when he sat in a similar room, in Brooklyn, before he made his way up the ladder. Things were so much easier then, even if he didn't recognize it at the time. The world was an old movie: all black and white and it was high noon. He was Gary Cooper and absolutely sure absolutely who were the good guys, who were the bad guys.

The kiss replayed in his mind like an endless looping device. You had bright, lush lips that he was pretty sure were designed to drive anyone of any orientation mad. When you had kissed him, it certainly took him by surprise - a wonderful surprise. He allowed himself to relish in the taste of your kiss - the invitation you gave when you moaned and opened your mouth more, so he could slide his tongue into your mouth. 

For the briefest of moments, he ignored the rational part of his brain. All cares were thrown into the wind. And then his moral compass, which was spinning and spinning and spinning, came to a sudden stop as it dawned on him that you had been drinking.

The kiss - was an impulse born out of your drunken stupor. He hadn’t missed however, the look of disappointment on your face when he broke the kiss and stated he should not have done that.

When he finally made it back to his apartment, he found himself unable to wind down. The mind of the prosecutor now turned defense lawyer, was racing with a million thoughts at once. Despite the busyness of his mind, there was one thing that he was sure of. 

Kissing you was tantalizing. And he wanted to do it again.

He changed into burgundy sweatpants and his old ratted Harvard shirt and poured himself a night cap. He was certain your email was like his when he was there: first name (dot) last name (at) manhattanda (dot) org. Ever the perfectionist, he opened his email and looked up the D.A. 's office's website. Sure enough, there was your contact information (and he was right about your email). 

The plan seemed simple enough: first, apologize once more for doing anything without your explicit consent; second: ask for a do-over but he didn’t want you to feel any kind of pressure. Nor did he expect you to acquiesce - and that if he did indeed overreach, it was noted and he would keep things completely professional. 

He hovered over the send button for longer than he would have anticipated. Finishing his drink, he took a deep breath and hit send. And then went to bed feeling antsy - like a child the night before their birthday.

**

The sun shone brightly the next morning, filtering through the partially open shades. Rafael groaned as he stretched, with his back and shoulders making a cracking sound as the bubbles burst in the synovial fluid around his joints. It was simultaneously satisfying and a reminder of his age.

The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done brewing. Rafael made way to the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions. He helped himself to coffee and then sat back in bed to read the paper on his iPad and get caught up on the latest happenings while he was asleep.

For a moment, he forgot about his email to you. He opened his inbox, mentally gearing himself for an email from you rebuking him, or worse, no response at all.

His normally steel stomach flipped when he saw there was an email.

Rafael, you have nothing to apologize for. I would love a do-over. Name the place/time, and I’ll meet you. My phone # is 718-371-5952. -Y/N

Rafael looked at the timestamp on the reply. You were up early. He scratched his beard and wondered if it was too early to text. 

‘It’s too early to text Rafael, coño.’ He chastised himself. ‘Es muy temprano; después. Ya no eres un hombre joven; necesitas relajarte.

**

You were distracted at work. You couldn’t focus one bit. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but you were anxious. You kept checking your phone to see if Rafael had texted you. Groaning, you took your phone and threw it into your drawer. You opened a new browser window when Marjorie strolled in. She had black oversized glasses and a hoodie. In her hands were two coffee cups and a brown paper bag. 

You were relieved when you saw her - talking with her would help keep your anxieties at bay. 

You stood and turned the corner of your desk and hopped on Marjorie’s desk.

“Morning!” You replied cheerfully. 

Marjorie groaned. “Why are you so loud? Why is it so bright in here?” You reached for a coffee and she protested, reaching for it. You held it back, smirking.

“Someone had a bit much I suppose? Woke up full of regret for poor life choices?”

Marjorie took off her sunglasses. “Yes.” She hissed. “You had a lot to drink too; why are you so chipper? Did you get laid or something?”

You paused and it was a long enough of a pause for her to jump all over it. “Oh my fuck, who? Spill. Carisi?”

You barked out a laugh before taking a sip of the piping hot coffee. “No. God knows I love him, but not like that.” You narrowed your eyes and leaned down to whisper, scanning the office.

“Um - what are you doing? We’re the only ones here working today.” Marjorie cocked her brow in response. 

“This place leaks like a sieve, Marj - you know that.” You warned. “Can’t be too careful.” 

Marjorie sighed and put on her sunglasses once more. “Sorry, it’s too bright. Still too drunk.”

You shook your head. “Um. It was Barba.”

“You fucked Barba!” Marjorie shrieked loudly. 

“Would you lower your voice?” You replied sternly. “No. I did not sleep with him. But we did kiss. And he sorta asked me out.”

“Holy crap on a cracker.” Marjorie replied, astounded by the news. She opened the other coffee and pushed the brown paper bag towards you. “Bear claws. So how was it? Is he as silver tongued as he is in the courtroom?”

Your cheeks burned as you replayed the kiss in your mind - how his tongue followed yours, deepening the kiss. It was full of enthusiasm and how he pulled you against him, his body solid and warm. If you tried hard enough, you could still taste the mix of scotch and coffee that was his kiss. “He was very… ” You trailed off slowly, trying to search for the right word. “... passionate. Yes, very passionate. Knows what he’s doing.”

Marjorie tipped her coffee at you. “Well then.”

**

When Rafael did eventually text you, he suggested a restaurant in the NoLiTa section of Manhattan. He insisted on meeting you at your place, as to him, it was the proper thing to do. You declined, insisting that a boomerang trip was uneccessary and that you’d meet him at the location. From the sidewalk on East Houston Street, under a grimy red awning that appeared to belong to a fading pizza parlor, Emilio’s Ballato didn’t look like much.

Rafael waited outside for you, rubbing his gloved hands together and when you crossed the street, he smiled. He had planned the whole night to a tee and it was going to be perfect. Rafael would settle for nothing less. 

You kissed each other on the cheek and then took his hand. On the walls were framed album covers and snapshots of various stars, from stalwarts like David Bowie and Billy Joel to the titans of film, like Frank Sinatra and Martin Scorsese. 

“Mr. Barba!” A voice cried out. You looked and the voice belonged to a hulking minotaur of a man who was sitting like a wary sentry at the first table. He was armed with a cup of espresso that looked like a thimble in the paws of a giant.

“Emilio!” Rafael greeted in return. The two men broke into Italian and you cocked your brow. You had no idea what they were saying and when ‘Emilio’ looked past Rafael and to you, you waved with a small smile.

“Come this way. I have a table in the back - more private.” Emilio replied in a thick Italian accent. “Welcome to my restaurant. We will make sure you’re taken care of.”

A waiter came by to take your coats and winter wear. As you shimmied off your coat, Rafael found his mouth suddenly go dry. You wore a blue velvet wrap dress with long sleeves and v-neckline. Black tights and black knee high boots rounded out the look. 

“You look stunning.” Rafael complimented as he handed his camel peacoat over.

You felt your cheeks burn and you were grateful for the dimmed recessed lighting. Rafael looked equally as handsome in charcoal slacks and a white button down fitted with a navy suit jacket. 

“Thank you counselor, likewise.” You replied. Rafael was ever the gentleman, helping you to your seat first before taking his place across from you. Soft jazz music played, but not so loudly as to be interruptive to conversation. The two of you were just settling in when Rafael’s phone rang loudly. Rafael reached for his phone, looked at the caller and sent the call to voicemail.

Rafael apologized for the interruption and you waved your hand, while shaking your head. “No worries.”

Another waiter came by, with a bottle of red wine, compliments of the house. 

“So what “in” do you have in this place?” You asked as you took a sip of the wine. 

“Emilio - back in the day when I was an A.D.A, had a family member who was assaulted. I was the prosecutor on the case. I put away a violent sociopath and rapist for a very long time. Emilio told me I was always welcome to the restaurant. I - I never really had anyone to bring here.” Rafael replied.

“Until now.” You finished, chewing on a sesame breadstick. 

“Until you.” Rafael clarified, causing your heart to flutter. 

Over dinner, you got to know each other better. You discussed how you ended up on the lawyer track and how you were study buddies with Carisi and Marjorie. 

He shared his fascination with The Waves by Virginia Woolf and The Count of Monte Cristo. Rafael went into passionate detail for the French literary classic by Dumas, recounting "This is the first book I remember my father giving me to read. It was my favorite book growing up. It's an easy read. I was a boy in middle school. I fell in love with the world and the drama of it. What’s your favorite novel?”

Again, Rafael’s phone rang, interrupting. Rafael let out a quiet swear as he reached for his phone. “I swear, I put it on vibrate.”

“Someone’s mighty popular.” You gave him a wink as you reached for your glass of wine.

Rafael blinked and let out a deep exhalation. “So you were going to tell me about your favorite novel.”

Rafael reached for your hand across the table and you were about to grasp it, when the waiter arrived to serve dinner. You jumped back slightly as the food was placed before you. Rafael had pasta with mussels, while you had pasta cacio e pepe. 

Picking up your fork, you nodded. “Love in the Time of Cholera. Florentino Ariza suffers from lovesickness as one would suffer from cholera, enduring both physical and emotional pains as he longs for Fermina Daza.” 

Rafael cocked his brow. “For my taste, there are too many long passages of exposition with Garcia Marquez explaining what the characters are going through. But as easy as the story is to follow, and as seductive as it is, it never gives away what is really going on.”

You scoffed. “So I suppose you don’t believe love conquers all?”

Rafael gave you a coy smile. “In the end we’re all passing through.” You laughed and it was music to his ears. 

More wine was had and conversation flowed easily. Emilio insisted that you both stay for dessert. At some point, your chair shifted and you were sitting right next to Rafael as you split vanilla panna cotta. Rafael’s eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips as you licked the spoon clean. You put the spoon down and could feel the sexual tension rising. As soon as you reached for him, you accidentally knocked over your glass of red wine, and it spilled in the direction of Rafael, all over his white shirt.

“Oh fuck, I am so sorry.” You apologized profusely as you frantically dabbed at his shirt with the cloth napkin. 

“It’s okay; it’s just clothing.” Rafael replied as he too blotted the stain.

“It’s not.” You disagreed. “Here I am, trying to make a good impression, ya know, be all charming and sexy for you - the Rafael Barba - and instead I am a klutz. Ugh, that is going to set if we don’t take care of it.”

“Did you say sexy?” Rafael questioned, a smile dancing on his lips. 

You opened your mouth to reply when Rafael’s phone rang again interrupting your thoughts. Rafael threw the napkin on the table, letting out an irritated sigh. When he saw the name, he held up a finger. “Let me just answer this.”

“Liv, what is-- yes now is not a good time.” Rafael hissed into the phone. “Tomorrow. That’s all I got. Okay. Okay. Talk then.”

Rafael tossed his phone onto the table and threw his head back, rubbing his hands over his face.” When he sat up, he noticed the bemused look on your face. You reached up and began dabbing his shirt once more. 

“It’s really not a big deal.” Rafael replied softly. He grabbed your wrists gently, pausing your movements. His hands were warm and they circled your wrists easily. 

You allowed yourself to relax in his grasp and crinkled your nose. “It really is going to set. We should go and clean it. Otherwise it’s ruined. And this shirt is nice; it’d be a shame for it to get tossed.”

“At this hour? And where?” Rafael replied incredulously as he signaled the waiter for the check.

“We… could go to your place.” You suggested softly. “I am pretty good with stains. Just need some salt, boiling water, and white vinegar.”

Stunned silence followed - it was brief, but it felt like an eternity when he spoke again. “Sure.”

**

It didn’t take long to get to Rafael’s. “I am so sorry again.” You apologized as you stepped off the elevator.

“Accidents happen.” Rafael replied as he led you down the hall to his apartment. If anyone had told you that you would be on a date with Rafael Barba, you would have laughed in their face and asked them for some of the good stuff that they were smoking. But here you, in front of a rather ordinary door marked 6C. Once inside, Rafael turned on the light and you took in the apartment before you. It was freakishly spotless and you wondered if you had entered a living ad for Architectural Digest. The apartment was sleek and modern but carried a warm ambiance. Colorful artwork hung off the walls and there was a built in walled library filled with all sorts of legal texts and what appeared to be vinyls. His apartment smelled like a mixture of leather and tobacco and books plus whatever cologne he had donned. 

“I’ll go get changed.” Rafael replied. “The kitchen is over that way and there is vinegar and salt in the cupboards. You nodded and made way, rummaging through his kitchen. His cupboards were as meticulous as his apartment and you smiled at the things that you found as you searched for the items you needed to clean the stain, like a box of peanut butter cap ‘n’ crunch.

You found the salt and vinegar when Rafael came back with his ruined clothes. He had changed into another undershirt and a pair of dark jeans. You felt the air get sucked out of his chest at the sight of him so casual. A tuft of chest hair poked out of the v-neckline and a gold chain glinted in the light. You took the clothes and spread them out on his kitchen counter and set to work. 

“Want anything to drink?” Rafael asked. 

“Water would be nice.” You managed to squeak out before you tackled the stains. Rafael watched you as you methodically worked out the stains. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and he found you adorable.

Rafael placed a small glass of water by you and then walked over to his music collection before choosing a record to play. The all too familiar instrumental notes of one of your favorite songs began to play. 

“Is that--?” You paused, looking at him curiously.

“Vitamin String Quartet.” Rafael expanded. “Lana del Rey.”

“Never had you pegged as a Lana del Rey fan.” You murmured continuing to work on the stain. 

“Plato said that music is moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” Rafael stated. “I have a very eclectic taste in music and if you go through my collection, you’ll find everything from Biggie to Celia Cruz to Lana del Rey to Prince - and everything else in between.”

“Impressive.” You replied. 

“And what would you have me pegged as?” Rafael prodded. He had also poured himself a glass of water. 

You stopped and looked up at him. You were overwhelmed by how handsome he is. Eyes that were biscay green and a strong aquiline nose. His hair, now bordering on more silver, than salt and pepper, made your hands twitch, as if your muscles instinctively wanted to run through it. You licked your lips and sucked in your bottom lip. You didn’t miss how his eyes darkened. 

“You’re the infamous Rafael Barba. Boy wonder. Taking on cases that everyone ducks with your big, brass…” Rafael’s eyebrow cocks and you smirk as you finish, “ego.”

“And baby killer.” Rafael interjected. His tone was acidic.

You flinched. “You’re not a baby killer.”

Rafael cocked his head. “Aren’t I?”

“Depends on the jury.” You replied, walking over to him, crossing your arms, which only served to push up your tits more. “But really, I don’t think of you like that. I know there is more to a person than just that one thing.”

“Not according to the court of public opinion.” Rafael managed to croak as his eyes drifted to your chest. “There is a reason I have kept a low profile all this time.”

You closed the gap between you and him and pressed your palms against his chest. He was solid and warm. You could feel his pectoral muscles twitch. A spark shot through your body, settling between your legs.

Rafael’s hands settled on your hips. The velvet of your dress was softer than he imagined and he could picture the dress pooling down at your feet. Part of him wished that the date had gone better. It did not go as well as he had planned.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” Rafael murmured as he wrapped his arms loosely around your hips. “This was not what I had planned for us at all.”

“I’m not.” You replied, looking up at him. You now wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing even closer against him. “I don’t need fancy dinners. I am just happy to spend time with you. I really had a good time. I am sorry about the shirt, but it seems all fine now.”

Rafael searched your eyes. The tension in the room shifted. Your heart began to pound and your breathing became more shallow. 

“I… the stain… it’s lifted.” You whispered shakily. Rafael lowered his eyes to your lips and recalled how good it felt to kiss them. He wanted to do it again. So he did. You didn’t hold back, moaning as his mouth crashed against yours. He pressed his mouth against yours with more force, crushing them. He took the opportunity to trace his tongue against the seam of your lips, seeking entrance to your mouth.  You acquiesced his request by parting your lips, and he deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth. You responded in turn by pulling his bottom lip, sucking and nipping. His chest rumbled. Rafael lifted you up, his hands going to your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your feet around his hips. 

Rafael carried you to the couch, walking backwards until he felt the couch and threw himself down, bringing you with him. You let out a squeak but that turned into another moan as his lips found purchase along your neck and he took the opportunity to suck a bruising mark into your skin. 

Your nipples were hard like diamonds and the strip of material that dared call itself underwear was ruined. Rafael’s hands slid down your back to your ass and he gave each cheek a squeeze. 

You rolled your hips, feeling how hard he was beneath you and then slid your hands under his shirt and through his chest hair, confirming how solid he was. You raked your nails down his chest and Rafael let out a groan of a man who had been denied too long. “Oh Rafael.” You breathed into his ear as you pressed kisses upwards along his neck to his cheek and then to his earlobe where you sucked and flicked your tongue against the thin flesh.

“Keep that up and I’ll…” Rafael groaned. His hands move to the front of your dress squeezing. You pulled away reluctantly and looked into his eyes, which were blown with lust.

“So soon old man?” You winked. “We’re just getting started.”

“I am not that old.” Rafael retorted. 

“Even if you were - which you’re not, it wouldn’t stop me.” You replied before ducking down to kiss him once more. You rolled your hips again, grinding harder against him. You took his hands and placed them on your breasts, sighing as he squeezed them. His fingers moved to play with your nipples and when he gave them a firm but gentle pinch, you couldn't help but shudder. You were melting under his touch.

You were just about to tell him to take you to bed so you could ride him into next week, when your phone began to sound. 

“I should get that.” You replied, giving him an apologetic look. 

You climbed off and Rafael let out another groan, his eyes laser focused on your ass as you walked away. “Mierda.”

“It’s SVU. They need me to come down.” You replied as you checked your phone. 

Rafael let out a deep sigh. “Do you want me to come down with you?”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s late Y/N, let me at least walk you over to the precinct. It’s a few blocks away.”

“Okay.” You relented. 

The walk over was quick. You got to the steps of the precinct and looked up at the door and then at him. “Raincheck?”

Rafael nodded. “Raincheck.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then you bounded up the stairs, turning to give him a quick wave. Rafael watched you until you were gone. He dropped his head as he began to trek back home.

‘What a fucking disaster.’ He thought miserably. He looked at his hands before he shoved them in his pockets. ‘I guess it's just us for tonight.’

TBC.

Tag list: @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @delia26omg-blog @mgarner1227@beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03  @beccabarba @garturbo​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @cesarofangirl78​ @redlipstickandplaid​ @redlipstickandblacktea​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @differentshadesofgray​ @misssirenlove​ @esparza-army​ @bananas-pajamas​ @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie​ @theenchantedgalleryofstories​ @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty​ @ktiz90​ @evee87​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @detective-giggles​ @rampantmuses​ @jazzyjoi​ @caked-crusader​ @rachelxwayne​ @prurientpuddlejumper​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02​ @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents​ @qvid-pro-qvo​ @alwaysachorusgirl​

[honeygingergemini]

Now I'm thirsty for your writing! Can you write one where reader or steve wants to make a sex tape? Thank you😘😘

Hello my dear :) Thank you for being patient with me. I had writers block and just thought everything I was writing sucked so I kept deleting it and starting over. I hope you like it @donutloverxo

p.s. I was today years old when I found out tumblr doesn’t send you a notification when someone answers your ask (I’ve only ever asked on anon bc my main blog is something different so let me know if I am wrong lol) I tagged you just incase <3 IGNORE TYPOS :)

pairing: Steve rogers x fem!reader 

word count: 2.4k 

warnings: camera sex, dirty talk, oral male receiving mentions of face fucking (light), unprotected sex, cream pies and descriptions of it, light spanking, and praise kink for stevie :) 

On Camera

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My heart is racing and we haven’t even done anything but set up the camera. We’ve only been dating for five months and four days, so imagine the graveling I had to do to get America’s golden boy to agree to fuck me on camera. I begged Steve for so long and now I'm the shy one. We’re supposed to be making a sex tape yet we are on opposite ends of the bed. 

Steve’s bare back is against the headboard while his long legs are spread out before him. He keeps looking everywhere but the camera. His eyes bounce from the walls to the sofa in the corner of the room but once he looks at me, he looks at the camera and he retreats further into his shell. His hand keeps running over his shorts and now I'm starting to feel bad. 

He agreed to this for me but I know he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t want to actually do this? Maybe I don’t want to do this? 

Nothing will happen if I get up and turn the camera off now, nothing will happen except me being deathly embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know I want this, I thought about it for a long time before and after bringing it up to Steve. It was my bright idea and now I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs like a dummy. 

You’ve had sex with Steve countless times, this is no different don’t let the camera scare you. Just relax, he’s your boyfriend, the one you’ve slept with numerous times. Just kiss him. 

I take a deep breath looking at Steve whose skin is slightly flushed. I lean over to his side of the bed and reach for him taking in his warmth. His skin is damp with a light coating of sweat. Steve’s eyes shoot over to mine with the unexpected contact. 

“Hi.” I smile at Steve hoping to relax him. As well as myself. 

“Hi.” He looks at me but then quickly looks at the camera. I follow suit doing the same.

We need a distraction from the boxed recording device. I lean over more to capture Steve’s lips in a demure kiss. I kiss him slowly trying to memorize every detail of his mouth. My tongue rolls over his teeth before dipping further into his mouth pulling a deep groan from him, but after his groan he tense and pulls away. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

“Yeah... i’m still not...” comfortable. he didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant. I lift my body over his straddling him as I trace my fingers over his body knowing the simple act calms him. It works because this time Steve initiates the kiss. It’s more firm than the last but pleasing just the same. Our tongues waltz in a sinful manner pulling soft calls from me. Forced breaths exit my nostrils as I grind my hips slowly into his. His large hands grip my hips and he pulls me down harder. 

“Uh Steve.” I moan out. “More please.” He’s now attacking my neck leaving open mouth kisses across my jugular. His hips push up to meet mine once then twice then it’s a repeated action that leaves me breathless. 

His eyes snap open to meet mine but instead they meet the camera and his arms drop to his side. Deep sighs are released from the both of us 

“I’m sorry princess... I'm just trying to get used to this.” I know he’s turned on right now. I can feel how turned on he is. 

“Do you want to stop?” He looks at me but doesn’t answer. I peck his lips quickly before removing myself from his thighs. My fingers are at the rim of his shorts very close to pulling them down before Steve sits up to stop me. 

“What are you doing?” it comes out mumbled together almost as one complete word. 

“Let me help you relax.'' I push his chest back down softly and continue my plan. I pull his shorts down just enough to free his erection. It bounces back and hits Steve's stomach. I take him into my hands and slowly stroke him. I bend over Steve's thigh  arching my back while bringing my spit slick lips to his tip and leave a wet kiss. Steve shudders whispering profanity under his breath. My tongue joins the fun, slipping out to run around the tip in slow semi circles. I continue my teasing until Steve's hips jut forward and his hand is on the base of my neck. 

“Suck it right.” He grunts voice hoarse “Stop playing with me.” 

“Yes sir.” The last words I say before I take him fully into my mouth. I push down until my nose is met by the coarse curls of his base. One of my hands grip Steve’s thigh while the other is holding on to the side of his abdomen subconsciously giving the camera a perfect view. Steve's grip on my neck is unwavering; he's holding my head down. 

“Fuck... breathe through your nose doll.” He grunts with a rasp I’ve never heard from him before. I take in sloppy breaths trying to calm down. “You gonna let me fuck your face? hmm princess?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he begins pushing his hips up into me slowly speeding up with each thrust until he’s assaulting the back of my throat. The action pulls strangled noises from me. My sounds only serve as encouragement for Steve. I think he’s completely forgotten about the camera. 

Steve juts his hips in a way that knocks the wind out of me. I gag around him getting a deep groan in return. 

“F-fuck princess.” His hand finds your ass with conviction. Steve suddenly becomes fixated on your bottom. His burly hands run from your ass and down your thighs repeatedly. I wiggle my lower half as a silent plea for him to spank you again and he complies. 

“You like it when Captain spanks you?” Slap. “You like the pain?” Slap. “I asked you something, doll.” you were presented with two slaps this time. I nod ferociously around Steve’s cock. The super soldier rubs the area he’s abused before dipping his fingers into your core. 

“Shit princess.” he continues toying around with your pussy. He pulls your head from his dick not wanting to end his fun prematurely. His tongue meets yours in a grimy kiss. “I can’t wait to watch that back.” Steve mumbles around your lips as you simultaneously squeeze the finger within you. 

“Oh? You like that?” Steve adds his middle finger to his index and presses into your warm sex deeply. I cry out enjoying the sweet burn of Steve’s fingers. “You like the thought of me watching this while i’m away?” 

You absolutely loved the thought of Steve watching you pleasure him when he’s away. An image of Steve hunched over dick in hand pumping himself into oblivion leaves you dripping. 

“Take your dress off.” Steve demands his voice carrying power. I begin stripping myself for him when he quickly stops me. “Nuh uh, not for me, for the camera.”

I turn to the camera as a shiver runs down my spine. My slip dress easily falls off my body leaving me with only black lace panties as covering. Not that I want to be covered in this moment. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve’s thickset hands wrap around me from behind covering my breast giving them a pleasure filled squeeze. “Such a pretty sight.” Steve brings his body to mold into mine from behind. His left hand trails it’s way down back to my clothed opening. 

“Can i touch you?” I nod yes at Steve's ridiculous question. Why would you ever deny him? Your response must be good enough because he’s pressing down over the fabric just the way you like. It doesn’t take long for his self restraint to be overcome and he’s dipping his fingers under your panties. He dips into your liquid arousal and coats your sex with it.

“You’re dripping princess.” He shudders to himself. He says it every time you two are intimate but you never get tired of hearing it. “So wet.” 

“Always for you.” My words flow out breathlessly “Only for you.” You’re unsure of when steve removed his shorts but he’s aligning himself with your entrance. He’s bare. There’s no protective barrier between the two of you. He’s never done this before. You’ve never done this before. His tip is barely grazing your lips, Steve surprises you. 

“Are you okay with this?” He asks for your permission and of course you accept. How could you turn down your favorite super soldier? So now you’re face down into the mattress dripping at the idea of getting to feel your Steve in a new way. A more personal way. Steve pushes into you slowly, only his tip. An exasperated moan leaves you as your suspicion is confirmed. You feel every detail of Steve's mushroom tip. Your vice like grip cups him into your squelching center holding him there. You absentmindedly hear Steve express his approval of the pleasure your body is providing him. Steve pulls out his tip just as slow as he entered. A suctioning click echos in the room showing just how wet you are. 

“Fuck.” Steve whispers “You feel like a dream doll.” 

He hasn’t fully delved into your sweetness and he’s on cloud nine. Not wanting to waste anymore time Steve dips into your bottoming out quickly and stays there. Labored breaths from both of you fill the room. It feels like Steve sits there forever unwavering. He takes in every detail of your squishy walls as you commit every vein, dip, and curve of Steve’s dick to memory. 

“Stevie baby,” You can barely breathe but you need him to move. “Move… please… for me.” 

Steve takes in one deep breath before he’s pounding into with great intensity. He doesn’t work your way up to his speed. He just slams into you, repeatedly. Hips clashing into your ass causing a jiggle that Steve adores. His hands strike your bottom giving added stimulation you didn’t know you needed. Steve pulls your head off of the bed bringing your body to lay flush against his. He dips his hips just a little bit lower and his tip sweeps the sweet spot located deep in your center only he can reach. You choke out a cry, his name being the only thing on your mind. Your cries encourage him to duplicate the action. 

“It feel good, doll?” You nod so fast you feel the contents of your mind scramble. 

“Say it, tell the camera how much you like it.” Steve turns your head to the recording device in front of you. Something you forgot was even present in the room with you. “Tell the camera” With each word his body collides with yours making sure you feel him as well as his words deep. “ Tell ‘em how much you like Captain stretching this pussy out.” 

“Tell them.” Steve’s stern grunts are accompanied by passionate strikes to your outer thigh. 

“Captain…” You whine, The pleasure is starting to feel overwhelming. “You feel so good, so different.” You want to catch your breath but you always want to please Steve. Captain has a praise kink. 

“I can feel all of you.” You reach behind yourself to cup Steve's head. “It’s so deep.” You sigh when his fingers find your clit. The tingle of your orgasm begins at your toes and travels up your body. You’re so close. 

“You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.” Steve grunts in approval of your expression pressing harder into your clit. He likes control but only because you give it to him so when you praise him, he feels like he’s on fire. 

“I love when you touch me like that.” Another grunt from Steve. I teeter close to saying something important, something so permanent that once I say it, it can't be taken back. Steve’s chest puffs with need. A need for you to express the feeling you both have swirling within your chest growing with each passing day. A small smack is applied to your clit before Steve flips you over so you’re on your back. 

“Tell me what I want to hear.” His voice is as rough as his pace. You don’t respond. It’s only been a couple months. Way Too soon to say it. 

“Don’t wanna say it?” Steve is plowing into making sure no air is left in your lungs. “But I thought I was doing so good?” His thrusts are unabated. 

“Thought I was the only one that could make you feel this way? hmm? Thought only I could make you feel good?” Long drawn out moans escape you. One right after the other each one more melodic than the last. 

“Be my good little baby and say it.” His thumb flicks around your bundle of nerves with sharp short strokes. “Say it princess.” 

“I love you.” You think you say it. You hope you say it. You’re unsure, your words are completely slurred and your mind is only filled with white noise. Your body is levitating as your orgasm washes over you. You’re feeling everything all at once. Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. 

“I know you do baby,” Steve chuckles, pleased with his work. “I love you so much more.” Each word is followed by a sweet kiss. Too sweet for what’s taking place. Your understanding of time becomes weary but soon enough Steve meets you at the peak. 

“F-Fuucck doll.” His body tenses as he releases deep inside you. “Fuck.” Once he collects himself he’s off of you. You whine at the loss of heat from the super soldier. You didn’t realize it but Steve has grabbed the camera bringing its focus to your filled cunt. 

“You look so pretty like this doll.” His finger dip into your overstimulated sex. He pushes the proof of his orgasm around before pulling some of it out to spread it across your lower lips. 

You lay still trying, trying to breathe, trying to not pass out, trying to not look as fucked out as you feel. You hear steve mention how this was fun in the background but you don’t have the strength to respond. Soft kisses to your inner thighs, stomach, then lips lull you further into your euphoric state. 

“You okay?” 

“Mmhmm i’m perfect.” You sling a leg over the super soldier.  “So you love me?” Steve’s soft chuckle is the last thing you grasp before falling into much needed slumber. 

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐓

                                     (  ~ Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Gender Neutral                                                                                                       Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut. Filthy, Disgusting, Grimy Smut.                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! This particular fic has tones of CNC (Consensual Non Consent) but it’s KNOWN that both Reader- Chan and Hawks are on the same page when it comes to this sort of thing. This is very aggressive and loving at the same time so just be warned about that. Other than that, I don’t think anything else needs to be reported. PLEASE let me know if anything triggers you and I will be sure to not write anything like this in the future.

SUMMARY: This is a headcanon of Hawks in rut. There’s GOING to be a part 2, so just be aware of that.

WORD COUNT: N/A because this is a headcanon/imagine

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

You both had the same shift that day so of course you both came home together.

You both had seemed exhausted to no end but Hawks was definitely zapped, but he was a little different.

You unlocked the door intending to take a shower, make dinner, and then catch up on anything you needed to, humming softly to yourself as Hawks followed.

You were about to speak before you were stopped and gripped by the neck, pushed into a kiss as he pushed you into the wall.

You grunt softly before it finally clicks and you let him dominate you, gently pushing the door before he grabbed your hand and pinned it against the wall.

The door didn’t close all the way, surprise surprise :|

You open your eyes a little to find his eyes hungrily peering down at you causing your heart to leap in your throat.

You also notice that his wings are high and defined behind him vibrating, a couple of loose feathers falling from the bunch.

The vibration of his wings casted an eerie low whirr around you as he started to bare his teeth a little feeling his cock get hard against you.

You close your eyes a little and look down but he tilts your chin up so you can’t look away, his hips grinding hard into you as he lets out one of those hoarse shaky breaths of his right by your ear.

You, who was already aroused a little before, pressed your thighs together and pressed his bulge in between them which made him arch his back, shudder and thrust into you hard, pulling your hips against him which created a loud mack that elicited a chesty moan from him.

You found his moans to be quite appealing and they made you even more horny every single time you heard them. He, of course, used it against you all the time, especially in the most inappropriate times.

By this point, you’d have figured out that he was in rut and a sly smirk washed over your face.

You knew that during Rut, he loved to indulge on his “bird of prey” instincts. He always loved a fight and you both knew each other’s boundaries so well that nothing had ever really went wrong before.  

He leaned in to kiss you and you swiveled your head away from him causing him to growl lowly and take you by the throat, sucking on your earlobe causing your knees to buckle.

“Not so tough now are you, Baby Bird,” he growled, pulling you closer, marking your neck up with his teeth.

You tremble as you feel his teeth teasing your sensitive areas and you took one of his hands, sucking on his finger, rubbing his bulge, your eyes challenging his.

He lets out an airy moan as his eyebrows arch, biting his lip as he started to grind into your hand, his forearm now pressed against the wall, all of his moans spilling out of his mouth right into your ear.

You shudder and push against his bulge, pushing him away, nibbling on his finger as you pull away.

“Come. Here,” he growled out as he bit his lip, licking over the same fingers that were just in your mouth.

“I don’t think I want to,” you lie and walk away, shaking your ass in his direction as you walk away.

Again, there’s that eerie hum of his vibrating wings again his hand loosening his belt a little before his hand disappeared into his boxers, squeezing and stroking at his cock as he leaned against the wall.

“If you make me chase, y-you I’m g-going t-to f-face fuck you s-so g-goddamn ha-hard,” he moaned out as he continued to please himself, his hips bucking into his hand. “Y-You’re not going to be able to t-talk for a f-fucking w-week and a half,” he threatened already looking like he was about to cum, his eyes half lidded and his cheeks reddened.

“Oh no… A good face fucking from my daddy? W-What a tragedy,” you tease more, sitting on the bed, twirling your fingers in your hair as you watch him jerk himself off.

Suddenly you see a spark behind his eyes and you get a little nervous.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself,” he growled out in a small moan before starting to stroke himself faster,

For some reason, watching him with his shirt halfway off of his shoulders and his hands down his pants was a little hotter than if he were to have his cock out in the open for you to see.

His feathers started to fluff up and his breathing hitched as he leaned against the wall, his head tilted up as he broke into a fit of deep, chesty moans, his wings trembling as they became more pronounced.

At his feet, there was a pile of soft red down feathers, but somehow you were a little more focused on his trembling legs, his breathing and his expression sounding like he was about to cum.

Of course, you press your thighs together and groan out softly, grinding against your bed, letting out soft groans.

“I s-said— F-Fuck~ D-Don’t move!” He looked back down at you as he started to slowly thrust into his hand, his strong hips mimicking those deep strokes he gave to you that you loved so much, his teeth clad on the collar of his shirt, even on the brink of release still looking smug.

You suddenly formed an idea of your own that might’ve pissed him off, but you were pissed that he decided to get off without you, making you horny and not being able to do anything about it.

“K-Keigo,” you whimper, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “P-Please! I’m sorry, I’ll be a g-good b-baby bird, please… P-Please f-fuck me…”

You put on the most innocent, needy voice you could and knew that your plan was in motion once he took his hand out of his pants with a soft groan.

You spread your legs for him and he stood in between them pushing you back on the bed, trying *again* to give you a kiss.

You squeak softly when you’re pushed back on the bed and when he tries to kiss you, again you look away and try to push him off of you.

Once again, you both have a safe word and neither of you said it, so he continues.

He pulls your hips against his throbbing bulge and you whimper out loudly as he growls into your ear.

“G-Get off of me!” You tried to squirm and wiggle around, trying to push him off, trying to fight away.

“You’re gonna take me like a good baby bird!” He growled as he thrusted his hips hard against yours causing you to moan and cry out.

You moved to hit him and he just grabbed your wrist pinning you to the bed.

“Tell me how fucking bad you want me, baby,” he moaned into your ear, growling as he slowly rolled his hips into yours, his face looking a bit drunk because of the power he held over you, his eyes dark and malicious while also still loving.

“No! E-Eat shit Keigo,” you cry out trying not to give in to his cock twitching against your sex.

“Don’t make me rip those pants right off of you baby,” he threatened, his hand clenched tight around the top of your pants, pulling at your pants.

“D-Do it then! You’re the b-bird of prey r-right? Hm? So d-do something!”

He did as told with a challenging smirk, plucking one of his own feathers, cutting them off of you.

“W-Wait! Kei-“

He mocked you as he slid his pants and boxers down his legs just enough to be able to thrust deep inside of your tight little hole.

As he did so, you arched your back and all of that fight you held before suddenly melted away into a sea of moans and whimpers watching as his sharp eyes preyed upon you.

“Fuuuccckkk~ How does it feel? H-How does it feel knowing you do this to me, hm? Take responsibility baby bird,” he teases you as he immediately deals you deep strokes, pushing his strong hips into your hole ready for him to use and abuse all night.

Still, you want to be bratty so you slap him which makes him hold you down with one hand, the other hand thrusting hard into you, his wings flapping a little as they stiffened and he gave another throaty moan.

He was usually a sensitive person, but during rut his sensitivity absolutely skyrocketed and you couldn’t do anything but try and hold your resolve not to break.

You could see the pretty light behind his eyes so you dig your nails into his shoulder and he growls quietly as the tips of his wings flutter and quiver by how you squeeze around him.

You grab one of his hands and suck the precum from his fingers making his jaw drop and his eyes roll into the back of his head as his fluid hip thrusts melt into something choppy but still rough and pleasurable.

You knew that his hands were the most sensitive besides his ear and his collarbone.

“F-Fuck baby bird,” he moaned out trying not to cum, his breaths heaving as sweat washed over his forehead.

You smirk and bite on his fingers and then deep throat them causing him to practically yelp out in pleasure, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Like this, daddy,” you ask as he stares down at you with your lustful eyes as the saliva strands connects your lips to his fingers.

“Y-Ye-ah,” he moaned out as he tried to keep from passing out.

He loved how tight you were around him, the way you looked with your fingers down your throat and the way your moans felt around his fingers.

You knew you had the control now, so you push yourself against him and clench down as you nibble on his fingers.

I w-want you to cum inside of m-me! Please daddy,” you tease as you felt him harden more and he was about to cum right then and there.

“I d-don’t w-want t-to-“

And right after that, he came, his eyes widening as he thrusted into you hard, his feathers casting that almost cinematic murmur through the room before standing up pronounced as if he were putting on a show for someone. He looked pronounced, curved over you, his fingers going deeper into his throat, a panting mess, his eyes sleek and slender, his trembling feathers still having that soft hum.

Luckily for him, being the territorial fuck he was, the neighbors COULD see you. All of you. And everything that’d just transpired.

The door wasn’t closed all the way.

The windows were open.

But upon further inspection, however, there was one *neighbor* watching just a little too closely. Your friendly neighborhood villain, Dabi.

[insaneasgardian]

Arachnid Enigma - Irondad and Spiderson

Inspired by a headcanon from @cassiecasyl

“I just had this thought... Tony suddenly gets hyperfixated on spiders and noone knows why. The first time the Avengers notice it's on a mission and it's not weird, he's a genius after all, they figure he just knows stuff. But then he begins rambling about spiders randomly. And sometimes he speaks about some issues like it's personal experience but he doesn't have a pet spider, Nat confirmed that?? What is going on???”

And an addition to it by @savvysass

“Lmao then spiderman walks in and they r like ah. Ok.”

............................................................................................

Also, this is an Irondad and Spiderson fic. I do NOT ship Starker for obvious reasons. If you do, I would like you to leave my blog.

🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️

There have been several times Tony Stark has displayed a fascination with arachnids. The first time Tony ever mentioned spiders was on a stealth mission in Bhutan where a HYDRA base had been spotted. It was supposed to be relatively easy, break in, grab intel, don’t be seen, and get out. It was a successful mission but not everything went according to plan.

“I’m in” Steve spoke into his comms as he looked around the HYDRA base he had just infiltrated. “No sign of any people, just a lot of spiders and dust”, he added, eyeing the critters that scuttled around the dark and grimy area.

“Of course there are,” Tony commented, “HYDRA isn’t exactly a stickler for cleanliness, and spiders love dirty, sooty, nasty areas to live in”. Steve proceeded to roll his eyes at the obvious remark. It was just Tony being Tony.

“Has everyone managed to locate the entrance?”, The Captain inquired, getting plenty of affirmative responses. Soon enough, everyone managed to enter the building and joined Steve in the large room he stood in.

There was no illumination except for the few rays sunlight that filtered in through the cathedral window. Just as Steve had said, there was an immense amount of dust settled all over the floor, window, and grand staircase that led to the second floor, along with a lot of arachnids. Clint stepped forward, accidentally crunching a couple of spiders under his foot. Tony clenched his jaw tightly, “Don’t. DO THAT!” he hissed extremely loudly, alarming everyone.

Clint gulped, “Geez, sorry”. Unfortunately for the team of heroes, Tony had not only surprised his colleagues but the occupants of the building too. Shuffling and a lot of movement was heard, and before the Avengers could retreat, the enemy confronted them.

“Great work Tony”, Natasha mumbled angrily under her breath when she saw several HYDRA agents rushing down the stairs. Earth’s mightiest heroes worked quickly and efficiently to take out the flocks and flocks of operatives running at them. Although it wasn’t a very hard job, it still took out the stealth element out of their job.

After the oncoming threat was wiped out and the data they needed had been collected, the team swiftly exited the base and entered the quinjet where Bruce was waiting for them. “What happened?” the scientist asked, inspecting his friends who were covered in gore.

Sam sighed, “Tony happened”, he stated simply.

Another time Tony spoke of the arachnids was when they had a day off, and decided to spend them with Clint’s family at their farm. It was around now that a few of the heroes began to suspect that Tony wasn’t just knowledgeable about the eight legged critters, but he was utterly fascinated by them.

“Thank you again for having us Laura” Wanda said, earning a kind smile from Clint’s wife.

“It was no problem at all!” she responded, putting together some quick snacks for the whole team.

The Avengers had a great time with the Bartons. Chatting and laughing, gossiping and giggling. It was fun. Just before they were about to leave and as Clint kissed his wife goodbye, a little shriek was heard. It was Nathaniel Barton.

Everybody was alarmed at first, thinking something terrible had happened to the boy, but when they saw the cause, they couldn’t help burst out laughing. A large house spider was crawling on Nathaniel’s show. Although spiders were the cause of a rational phobia, the team of heroes did not fear the hairy critter before them.

Tony stepped forward and picked up the spider, placing it somewhere it would be safe, and also where Nathaniel wouldn’t freak out over it. He then turned to the youngest Barton child, “Don’t worry kid,” he began “spiders are great creatures! Honestly, they’re really cute, and nice, and brave”. 

Thor snickered, “You speak of spiders as if they’re people”. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but then hurriedly shut it and looked away from the group. Tony was quiet. That was a first. What was happening to Tony? 

Meanwhile, Rhodey stood in the corner, looking at the confused glances his friends gave each other as they attempted to figure out what was causing Tony’s new behavior. He smiled, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Loki who narrowed his eyes slightly and chewed his lip in thought. What did Colonel James know?

To mention one more instance in which Tony displayed an unusual interest in spiders was just the day after the Avengers visit to the Bartons. Nick Fury had brought his pet tarantula to work and the team was crowded around it.

“What’s his name?” Sam curiously inquired.

“It’s Bert,” the director responded, sounding rather bored, “I got him from Agent Hill’s house,  she despises spiders”. 

Tony looked at Maria, who was standing quite far away from Bert, cautiously watching him. “Don’t be scared Maria!” he exclaimed, “They’re gentle, come closer”. The agent’s eyes widened in fear and she rapidly shook her head which made a few of the Avengers chuckle. “Come on”, Tony encouraged. 

Maria looked around the room for an escape, but seeing that everyone in the room had conveniently blocked the exits she sighed and walked closer. “Go on and pet him”, Fury remarked, clearly amused at the situation. Agent Hill desperately wanted to refuse but she didn’t want to chicken out so she carefully held out a finger and ran it over the tarantula’s hairy body.

She wanted to puke.

“See! It’s not so bad!” Steve said, smiling at her. Still, the agent quickly pulled away. Spiders were definitely not her thing. “Yes, spiders are just as scared of humans and some humans are of them,” Tony began, “they’re quite shy actually but very gentle! They won’t hurt anybody unless they feel provoked-”

“What is it with you and spiders?” Bruce cut him off with a playful grin. The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist froze and all the humor initially on his features disappeared. Everyone noticed this change in behavior and Bruce fidgeted uncomfortably, believing he had upset his lab buddy. “I mean... you just speak of them a lot, do you have like a pet spider or something?”

Tony remained quiet but Natasha answered, “No, he doesn’t have any pets”. The group turned to the redheaded assassin and she shrugged, “What? I’m a spy, I know stuff”. 

A silence fell over once again, and it was interrupted by Tony. “Oh! I got a business meeting soon, see you guys later”, and with that, he turned and trudged away just as Phil Coulson walked in. Tony bumped into him, “Sorry Agent” he mumbled quietly before proceeding to walk out.

Phil shot Nick and Maria a confused look, and both returned it. The Avengers on the other hand knew for sure something was up.

The last time the Avengers wondered about Tony’s obsession with spiders was also the time they found out its cause. The entire team was just about to enter Tony’s lab.

“Sleep well spidey boy” are exactly the words the Avengers heard Tony whisper before they could walk into his lab. They all heard it, and looked around at each other for confirmation that they were hearing the right thing. They then proceeded to have a conversation right outside Tony’s work space. A quick one, in which they decided it was time to confront Tony about his spider problem. There was nothing wrong with loving them, but talking to a spider? This was unhealthy.

So they opened the door to the lab and walked in on a very surprised Tony Stark, his face paled, but he regained his composure. “Heyyyy, what’s up guys?” he asked, casually leaning against a wall. 

His superhero friends looked at him sadly and Steve stepped forward, “Tony, I think it’s time we talked about-” he was interrupted by a snore. Captain America agitatedly glanced back, “Can you guys please be serious?”, he requested. However, everyone behind him was looking confused.

Then a cough was heard, then another, it then developed into a coughing fit. Then there was silence. Until there wasn’t. “Oh shoot! I am so sorry Mr Stark, did I disturb yo-... OH MY GOD IT’S THE AVENGERS!”, a voice came from the ceiling. The group collectively looked up and saw a boy, no older than 16 with wavy brown hair and adorable doe brown eyes gaping at them.

Tony tiredly rubbed his eyes, “Hope you had a nice nap Peter,” he said, “Come down now”. The boy, Peter, obliged and hopped down from the ceiling without injuring himself. 

“How did you do that? Stick to the ceiling I mean” Bucky asked.

Peter looked at the super soldier and smiled brightly, “I’m spiderman!”, he practically yelled, “It’s what I do!”. The Avengers all looked at this young boy in shock. 

“The kid from Queens?” Wanda asked.

“Yea, the kid from Queens,” Rhodey confirmed, “Tony kept Peter a secret this whole time as so not to endanger him”. 

The billionaire nodded and smiled sheepishly, “Secrets out now I guess...” he murmured.

There was silence, it wasn’t awkward or comfortable. It was the kind of silence that hung in the air after a huge revelation... It was astounded silence.

Tony broke it, he placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and began guiding him out the room, “Come on kid, let’s go get some cheeseburgers”. With that, they stepped out the lab and left the rest of the people still standing there, completely appalled.

Steve turned back to the group he had led into the lab, “Well... that kind of explains the interest in spiders I guess...”

@emma-elsa-0000 @lost-lunar-wolf @joyful-soul-collector @teammightypen @blerghfish @incorrect-spiderson @only-love-can @badmcuposts @cassiecasyl @savvysass 

[hobiiwan]

the mandalorian with a pregnant s/o

⇒ pairing: the mandalorian x reader

⇒ summary: pretty self-explanatory

⇒ warnings: brief mentions of some nsfw spicy times

⇒ notes: based on this anon (thank you!) thought the gif would be fitting. this could potentially be extended into dad!Mando (although that’s already kind of shown in the show👀so let me know if yall are down for some MandoBaby bc i definitely am) also i kinda went overboard, but who am i if not extra

you’re not quite sure how it happened

i mean, okay,,,,

you knOw

but you can’t seem to fathom how one day you were just you and now you’re you’re carrying a little person inside you

it comes as a surprise

even though the signs were all there

the other day, you’d snapped at mando for the tiniest thing

twenty minutes later you were practically on him

not to mention the morning sickness

thaT should’ve been your biggest red flag

yet you simply chalked it up to the fault of questionable cantina food

however, now with the pregnancy test in your hands with the double red lines mockinG you straight to your face

there’s no denying it

you’re pregnant

you hate that your first thought instantly jumps to doubt

how are you going to raise this baby?? your life was not one for a child

you would never want your child to grow up in a constant state of danger

and what would mando think??? what if he doesn’t want to keep the baby; what would you do then?

you haven’t even seen his face, how are you going to raise a child together

will the child be raised a mandalorian????

so many questions

but under it all, you were happy

you’ve always wanted a family of your own

not that baby yoda doesn’t count as your child bc it totaLLY DOES

although this isn’t exactly how you expected it to happen

you’re determined to let your baby grow up surrounded by love

you just hope mando is too

when you tell him, it’s not a big occasion

it’s another day, he’s checking the ship’s controls and you’re curled up on the seat next to him

he instantly knows something’s up

because for once, you’re quiet

you gnaw on your lip as your knee bounces up and down

the anxiety is radiating off of you and it’s starting to get to him

never one to beat around the bush, he asks, turning to your huddled form, straight to the point

“what’s wrong?”

taking a deep breath you force the words out your mouth

“i’m pregnant, mando.”

your throat burns as your eyes well with tears

he goes absolutely silent

even the usual rhythm of his breathing through his moderator goes cold

his helmet is turned towards you, but you feel as though he’s looking anywhere but at you

the second the first teardrop spills down your cheek, that’s when he finally moves

whatever was on hand is dropped as he goes to take your hands in his

“i—” he starts, continues with a waver, “do you want this?”

his voice is gentle, more so than you’ve ever heard it before

mando’s thoughts are soaring

he can’t believe this is real; you’re real

he takes a moment to thank the maker for gifting him with you, and now your baby

he swears all the planets align when you nod

you’re smiling now and even with the tear tracks drying on your cheeks, mando thinks he’s never seen anything more ethereal

his hands tighten around yours as he pulls you close to him

“but what about—how can we raise a child like this?”

at this moment, he sounds so vulnerable; so open with his fears that you can’t help but love him a little more

you press your forehead against mando’s helmet

closing your eyes, you know he does too

“we’ll find a way.”

it’s in the way that he allows you to place your hands just where his helmet meets his shoulders, fingers brushing against the sliver of exposed skin

the way his own hands are heavy against the small of your back, keeps you grounded in this moment of euphoria

he doesn’t have to say it; neither do you

the words hang in the air, unspoken yet heard

you know your baby will be loved

NOW,,, TO THE FUN STUFF

mando ups his protectiveness to the goDS

not one haiR on your pretty little head will be harmed on his watch

he won’t let anyone get close to you, and his awareness has been tuned to a whole new level

it’s to be expected; you know he’s just doing this because he cares

but,,, manz forgotten you can take care of yourself just fine

the first few weeks, he’s a little paranoid, to say the least

but once he sees you slam a slimeball who got a little too handsy into a wall, he relaxes a bit more

still, don’t expect to do anything on your own bc for the next 9+ months, mando’s signed up to be your new butler

most days, he’ll have everything you want on hand; whenever you have cravings, back pain, swollen ankles

he’s got u

on the days you have terrible all-day morning sickness, he’s right there holding your hair up and rubbing your back soothingly

when you slump against the toilet, you swat him away because you don’t want anyone to see you right now

he doesn���t give a flying damn

cuddles are a biG thing (which surprises both of you since you’re both quite reserved people)

most nights you’ll fall asleep to his hand tracing over your growing bump and not gonna lie,,,, it’s kinda great

unTIL your bump really starts to grow and you can no longer reach down to pull on your own boots or sleep on your back

that’s when it really hits you

by the time you get to your third trimester, you’re ready for this baby to be out of you

you can’t say you particularly enjoy feeling bloated 24/7 and not being able to frequent your beloved grimy cantinas

but you’re also really excited to meet your lil baby!

you wonder how he or she will look; like you or their father?

what will their name be? 

you probably should have planned these things out by now

but since when were you and mando known for planning?

eventually mando sets up a little nursery on the ship; baby yoda’s going to have a sibling very soon

you have yet to discuss the whole helmet issue with mando

hell, you don’t even know his real name

what you do know is that you want your child to know the face of their father

but you also know how important it is for him that his face is kept hidden

mando knows the conversation is bound to happen one way or another, yet he’s still a deer in the headlights when you bring it up

he sighs heavily, and tells you he’ll think about it (despite that usually being a half-assed answer from anyone else, you know his to be genuine)

you don’t bring it up for a while afterwards; you don’t want to push him

until one day,,,,,

you’re chilling with the Child (not your own) (yet), who’s happily cooing in your arms, when the father of your actual child comes stomping in

“dyn.”

you blank, eyebrows furrowing in confusion; the Child mimics your expression with full emphasis on the eyes

“come again?”

he sighs, (a common occurrence nowadays)

reader, you’re exasperatinG (but in a good way)

“my name,” he tries again, “it’s dyn. dyn jarren.”

your eyes widen comically as it dawns on you; that is noT what you were expecting today

he would’ve chuckled at your expression but this was noT the time

“dyn,” you breathe out as a smile grows on your face

you like it, it’s suits him perfectly

that’s when he decides he likes his own name, if it means he can hear you say it again

you lean up to press your lips against where his own would be under the helmet

“thank you,” you murmur with a softness he still hasn’t gotten used to

suddenly mando feels ready to reveal his whOLE life story to you

this is a hugE step obviously, and you can’t help but still call him mando from time to time

force of habit :’))

but when you feel that first wave of sharp pain piercing your lower back, his name is the first thing that escapes your lips

after the first ‘oh shit’ ofc

he’s by your side within a span of ten seconds

you still manage to tease him about the cacophony of clanging metal as he runs through the ship

but then the next wave of contractions hit and you’re 200% sure you blackout (mando tells you later that you didn’t)

because the next thing you know, (6 hours later, mando says) there are about 4 medical droids around you

they’re telling you to push

and boY DO YOU PUSH

you didn’t think you had it in you

mando didn’t think he had it either, as you crushed every single bone in his hand

you’re also mildly cursing him

“daMn yoU MANDO, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT BECAUSE I AM NEVER SLEEPING WITH YOU EVER AGAIN-”

that’s a lie, obviously

there’s a pause as you gasp for breath

you’re knackereD

suddenly there’s a little cry

the droids clean your baby up and they hand him to mando

it’s a,,,,,,, drumroll please

girl !!!!

his heart stops when the baby, your baby, meets his eyes, or rather, his helmet

at that moment, mando knows he’d do absolutely anything for this little person

he’d take his helmet off a thousand times if it meant he’d get to love her properly, the way a real father should

that’s exactly what he decides to do

within the next few days, you’re back home

one morning, you wake up, suspiciously well rested

that’s weirD,,,,

you realise your daughter never cried last night

you bolt upright as quickly as you can in your state, alarmed

motherhood is wiLD

you stumble outside, eyes darting for your baby when they land on something that makes your heart stop

there he is, dyn jarren, the mandalorian, holding your baby girl in his arms, bathed in all the glory of the binary sunrise

but that’s not what gets you

his back is turned to you, and you can see the back of his head, tufts of unruly dark brown curling around warm, bronzed skin

there are tears welling in your eyes as he turns to face you

your gaze meets his own, not the reflection you’re so used to

but his eyes, rounded and dark; the ones you see on your daughter

as soon as your face breaks into a grin, he knows he’s made the right decision

your breath hitches as his lips curl into a smile; it’s a little uncertain, a little nervous

but it’s one you know you’ll never get tired of in this lifetime

he’s taken it off.

[writing-gifts]

datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: welp one more chapter after this, it’s pretty much gonna do its best to wrap everything up and ig thats all i have to say other than Narancia is pretty fussy this chapter lol

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

-----

[Late Winter]

I only left for a few seconds…

You bring the damp cloth to the sticky layer smeared on the table. Naranica had somehow managed to not spill honey on just the table but also himself. And after you finish dealing with the table you would have to clean the clothes you changed him out of.

“Sorry…I tried to clean it.”

You glance at the bee. He had been sitting quietly in one of the dining chairs up until this moment.

“It’s okay. We just have to be careful next time.”

You’re going to ask him what he wants to do after you’re done cleaning everything to brighten his mood but you notice something off about his appearance.

“Where's your hairband?” you ask.

“Huh?”

He reaches up and touches the top of his head. When he can’t feel the cloth of the orange hairband he usually wears, he gets down from the chair and runs out of the room.

When you’re finally done cleaning the table, Narancia’s still hasn't returned so you go look for him. Luckily he’s in the first place you check--his room--but for some reason the usually somewhat clean space was in much greater disarray. All the drawers of his dresser are open and his clothes and toys lay scattered on the bed and floor.

“Narancia what are you doing?”

For some reason he’s halfway under the bed.

“I can't find my hairband!” he exclaims before crawling out.

“Well do you remember where you last saw it?”

“On my head this mornin’.”

You had seen it this morning too. You try to recall today's events but now that you think about it you don’t remember taking it off him when you were cleaning him up earlier.

“Maybe it fell off when we were outside?”

The bee perks up at your suggestion and you have to stop him from running outside. After quickly dressing yourself and him in clothing appropriate for the weather, you go out to search. The two of you spend a good amount of time looking on the snowy ground in front of the house and behind snowbugs but have no luck.

Narancia pushes around the snow in random spots with his hands, but you doubt it would be buried under any.

You rub your gloved hands together. “It’s definitely not out here. We should go back inside.”

Frustration forms on the bee’s face and he stays put so you hold out a hand to him. He stares for a moment but sighs and takes it.

The both of you head back inside and while you help the bee take off his Winter attire he comes up with the idea to look in Bruno’s room.

“Yea maybe it’s in there but--”

He’s already running out of the room before you can finish speaking.

You throw his scarf onto the bed and follow after him but unfortunately, the door to Bruno’s room is already cracked open when you catch up.

“Wait Narancia. Bruno’s sleeping,” you yell-whisper.

You try your best to enter quietly but find that your mate is already awake, confused and watching Narancia look around his room.

“What’s wrong?” Bruno says through a yawn.

“I can’t find my hairband!”

Narancia climbs onto the bed and lays on top of Bruno and the moth places his hand on top of his son's head.

“I’ll get you a new one--”

“No! I don’t wanna different one Papa…”

The bee sighs and gets back up to start looking again

You tell Bruno to stay put while you try to help Narancia in his persistent search throughout the house but eventually the two of you tire yourselves out and end up back in the bedroom empty handed.

Sitting on the bed, you try to smooth down Narancia’s hair but no matter how many times your hands run over his hair, the wild strands refuse to stay in place. It wasn't a bad thing but seeing his hair looking much messier without his hairband had made you wonder if it was even possible to keep it down without one.

“It’s no use amore. Unless you gel it back, his hair does what it wants.”

Narancia scrunches up his face at the word ‘gel’.

“Don’t worry I'm not going to gel your hair.” You tap your chin in thought and get up to rummage through your sewing supplies on Bruno’s dresser. “....How about I make you a new hairband?”

Narancia’s eyes widen. “Can it be the same as the last one?”

You pull out your pair of scissors before turning towards him with a smile. “Of course. You really like that hairband huh?”

You’re sure you’ve seen a few others in his dresser but the orange hairband was the only one you’ve ever seen him wear. You avoid asking why he likes this particular one so much though since you didn't want him to change his mind about taking your copy. You would do your best to find the original but for now this would have to suffice.

You have Narancia stay still--well as still as he can--so you take his head measurements. After that it doesn't take too long to cut out the cloth and start the actual sewing. However, the bumblebee has wandered out of the room by this point.

Bruno watches you half awake as you sew quietly next to him in bed. The both of you sit in silence together for a while and you plan on keeping it that way so he can easily fall back asleep.

Well at first anyways. Your train of thought finds itself at a topic that you can’t help bringing up.

“Have you ever thought about having more kids?” you ask.

The moth looks caught off guard by your question. It did seem as if it came from nowhere, but helping Bruno take care of Narancia and your recent thoughts of all the new arrivals that would be coming in Spring had mostly prompted it.

He considers what you asked before answering.“After adopting Narancia I wasn’t actively looking for a mate or trying to take in anymore young on my own. But now that I’ve met you I’m sure that will change....”

He trails off a bit and you stop sewing wondering what's wrong, but you find that he's staring at you very intently.

“W-Well yea. I’m sure that would be in the distant future, but that sounds nice. I wouldn't mind raising young with you…Actually I think I’d really like that.”

You wait for his reaction but feel tremors coming from the bed.

"You’re….vibrating?" you question, confused.

The slight embarrassment on his face when he tries and fails to stop has you smiling.

“That makes me really happy ____.”

You didn't think you could smile any larger. “You're so cute!"

You put the half-sewn hairband and needle to the side before hugging him which spreads the vibrations to you. You can barely believe the moth you met a year ago was the same one in your arms. The vibrating begins to lessen until it completely stops.

You completely relax against your mate and comb your fingers through the fluff near his chest. You’ll probably never get over how soft it is.

“Narancia practically fell into my arms so this time it will be nice to be properly prepared.”

You hum in agreement.

“That hive--Did you just happen upon it?”

“No, Abbacchio was actually the one who found it. He found Narancia and brought him to me.”

Your fingers stop playing with Bruno’s fur as you try to understand this new information. Why was Abbacchio even wandering around a dead hive?

It’s almost as if Bruno read your mind due to what he says next.

“I’m not sure how he managed to find Narancia but when I asked he was very guarded about it.”

Well if he didn’t know, then there was no way you would ever find out.

“How long have you known Abbacchio anyways?” you ask.

“About 7 years. I actually first met him when he was still part of a nest.”

Apparently, you were learning many new things today since you’ve always assumed Bruno had befriended Abbacchio when he was out of the hive.

It takes a while for you to realise said moth is looking at you with concern since you’ve suddenly gone quiet.

“Oh sorry...I guess I’m still not completely over you making friends with a wasp.”

You thought you were but this new information has you somewhat stupefied all over again. How did these two even manage to meet?

“I suppose all wasps aren’t built the same,” Bruno says.

“Well no bug is. But this is still a very rare--”

The creak of the bedroom door interrupts you and Narancia pokes his head in, his hair somehow even messier than before.

“Is my hairband done yet?”

------

Your shoes press into the snow. Parts of the once solid white blanket had become half melted and grimy in many areas. Your arms wrap around you in an attempt to keep warm. It was still light out but it wouldn't be long until it got dark and therefore much colder, however Naranica was adamant on coming out here.

Narancia completely ignores how dirty the snow is and runs around and plays, balling up and throwing around the cold slush.

“____ make a snow angel with me!”

If there was any time for you to be extremely partial to not laying in the snow it was now.

You look off to the side and grimace. “...Do I have to?”

The bee rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out before laying on his back to make his angel.

You’re still considering if you should join when the door opens behind you and your mate steps out.

“Hey, want to make a snow angel with Narancia?” you ask the moth.

His brows slightly furrow at the idea. “No thanks. I don't want to get my favorite sweater that you gifted me dirty.”

You almost roll your eyes but he was wearing the sweater, along with white bottoms along too. Sighing, your attention turns back to Narancia but he’s no longer lying where he was last. When you see that he’s now distracted by one of the snowbugs instead of rolling around in the snow, you let out a small sigh of relief.

The front of the house had so many of the snowy insects now that it looked like the location of a small party. All the ones you made over the Winter were still standing but they looked less sturdy and nice--some more than others.

“Mista is melting!” Narancia exclaims.

You walk over and see that Mista’s scarf is slipping off his partially melted body and try to fix it, but the moment your hand brushes against him, his head falls off. Your eyes widen and you look at Narancia whose mouth is hanging open.

He yells and you flinch. Narancia tries to lift his head but the snow breaks apart in his hands.

“Mista no--Papa help!”

Bruno comes near to observe the situation before crossing a pair of his arms. “I’m sorry Narancia but Mista can’t be saved…”

The bee’s eyes look teary and you feel terrible.

“I-I’m sorry Narancia. I didn’t mean to…”

He’s quiet for a moment before telling you it’s okay, however his frown has your heart clenching. He walks off to play a little more by himself, but doesn't seem as energetic as before.

“Don't feel bad mio amor, he gets like this every year….He might be a little more upset than usual though.”

You acknowledge Bruno’s statement half heartedly, but it doesn’t wipe away the guilt.

The three of you spend a little more time out before Narancia asks to go inside. While Bruno’s busy feeding him you head back to the moth’s room so you can get back to packing, but also give the bee some space.

You had started slowly gathering all your stuff a couple days ago. Everything you brought pretty much mixed in with all of Bruno and Narancia’s stuff and you would prefer not to spend last minute looking for any missing items.

A giant part of you was sad to go but the other was excited to see Abilene and update them on everything that happened.

You’re alone for some time but after putting Narancia to bed, Bruno joins your search.

Before you head back to your own home, you plan to check every room in this house for any of your possessions. You decide to head to the main room and immediately your eyes fall on a sweater you had careless left on the couch. You pick it up and something orange falls from under it. You bend over and pick it up, quickly realizing it’s the hairband Narancia lost. How did it even get there?

After a quick scan of the rest of the room, you go back to the bedroom and throw your sweater in one of your satchels. You then place the hairband down where you’re sure it won't get lost again.

Walking into Bruno’s closet next, you open the glowing lantern placed in there. You’re pretty sure you didn't put anything in here but it was better to be thorough. You hum to yourself as you look through the moth’s clothes--all these clothes that he rarely wore. You sigh and shake your head.

While pushing his clothes aside, you find your scarf that had been missing for so long that you convinced yourself you never brought it in the first place. You grab and drape it around your shoulders and quickly finish looking through the closet before exiting.

When you pass Bruno you toss the scarf onto him because why not.

“Found Naracia’s hairband and one of my scarves. I’m on a role today.”

Bruno watches you as you properly wrap the scarf around his neck.

“Hey it doesn't look bad on you! Maybe you should keep it.”

“____?”

You look away from the scarf and at him.

“I almost want to beg you to stay,” he says.

Your smile falls slightly not expecting that at all, but you laugh a bit to cover it up.

“Trust me you don’t need to. If I could be in two places at once that would be great...b-but I’m going to try to visit a lot though!”

Even though you try to stay positive you know it won’t be the same. No waking up next to Bruno. No getting to kiss and cuddle him so often. You wouldn't be able to play with Narancia or fail to feed him in a non messy way either. You wouldn't be able to see them whenever you wanted to and would begin to miss them the moment you were back alone in your home.

Bruno pulls you gently into a hug.

“You're pouting mio amor.”

You wrap your arms around him reprociating the hug and laugh. “Oops I didn't mean to.”

You pull back to look at the moth and reassure him so you both can get back to packing. Unfortunately, this moment seemed to disrupt your focus and you barely get anything done before managing to distract each other again. This happens multiple times until somehow the two of you end up sitting at the edge of the bed being the complete opposite of productive.

Bruno leans into you as you kiss. Your hands unsure where else to go find his chest and warmth fills you when you feel his teeth catch on your bottom lip. Your mate pulls back, but before you can complain, he presses another kiss to your lips then your jaw. His kisses start to trail down your neck--

“PAPA!”

You immediately make space between you and Bruno and almost fall off the bed.

Narancia runs into the room disheveled.

“What’s wrong Narancia?” Bruno asks.

Unlike you, the moth has already collected himself from the unexpected interruption.

Narancia climbs onto the bed but when he sees you, he seems to calm down a little. “Uh nothing…”

He then sits down between you and Bruno. “Can I help pack?”

You and Bruno agree and you’re (finally) back to what you were originally doing. However Narancia seems unusually quiet and you could no longer ignore it. You had hoped sleeping would help improve his mood but apparently it didn't.

“Um are you okay Narancia? You seem sad…”

He shrugs.

“I really am sorry about Mista.”

“It’s not that…” He shifts foot to foot avoiding your eyes before running up to you and clinging onto your leg. “I don't want you to leave! Do you have to?”

Oh.

Bruno turns towards the two of you and you smile sadly.

“I have to, but I’ll be sure to visit and you and Bruno can visit me too.”

“Everyday?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, not everyday.”

Narancia hides his face in your leg and you're really worried he’s going to start crying. You weren’t ready to deal with that.

“We can’t go everyday but we’ll go often,” Bruno adds in an attempt to prevent any tears.

Narancia stays quiet and still for a moment before letting go of your leg. He nods in understanding but still looks sad and very tired.

“Do you want to go back to bed now?” you ask.

He nods again and reaches up towards you so you can pick him up. You tell Bruno you’ll be right back before heading to Narancia’s bedroom. You gently place and tuck him into bed before smoothing his hair back.

“I found your hairband by the way. I’ll give it to you when you wake up.”

The sadness on the bees face disappears and he smiles sleepily. “Thanks, you’re the best. Please don’t go home while I’m sleeping.”

You smile at the silly idea but make sure to settle the bee’s worries.

“I promise I won’t. Good night Narancia.”

-----

Just a few more days until you had to go back home and you had been spending all your alone time just trying to just finish up Bruno’s top. At some points you thought you wouldn't be able to before it was time to go but with some lost sleep you manage to finish all the lace for the sleeves. You were now spending your quiet morning putting everything together.

Forming the last stitch, you cut the string and place the needle down. You hold out the finished top in front of you.

The long sleeved loose-fitting top contained a V neck and was all lace except for part of the back where you sewed in a black silk cloth. Overall the lace was mostly simple but there were places where you tried to implement more floral patterns.

You look over it once more and smile content when you don't find any glaring mistakes. Now all you had to do is wait until night time rolled around.

You drink the rest of nectar from your cup sitting on the table and sigh. You were tired. Very tired. Your sleep schedule was all over the place the last couple days because of this top, and now that you were done a nap would be nice. You make sure to find a good place to hide away the top before going to Bruno’s room.

When you enter, the moth is softly snoring in bed but the moment you try to get under the covers you stir him awake. He opens an eye slightly before closing it again and reaching out towards you. You cuddle up to him and he wraps his arms around you.

“Taking a nap?” he asks.

“Yep. By the way I have a surprise for you tonight.”

A grin appears on his face. “Oh? I wonder what it is.”

You softly boop his nose. “You’ll see later, so you can go back to sleep now.”

It doesn't take long for you to drift off after that but when you finally awaken, the light from outside has been replaced by the night. You hadn’t expected to be asleep that long and feel very disoriented because of it.

Bruno looks over at you from the book he’s reading. “Sleep well?”

You sit up and rub at your eyes. “I guess so. I didn't mean to sleep that long though.” You get up and stretch. “Is Narancia awake?”

“I actually just put him back to bed. He woke up around the same time you fell asleep.”

Your eyes widen at how heavy you had fallen asleep.

“God you must be tired then….Oh wait your surprise!”

You quietly make your way to the main room and grab the satchel that you had hid behind one of the pillows on the couch. After pulling out the top, you can’t stop yourself from looking over it again, but you nod to yourself to discard any doubts.

Bruno’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you when you return.

“Okay take your sweater off,” you say, almost demand.

His brows raise and you almost laugh.

“It’s not like that I made something for you.”

You hold out the top to show him. “I'm not sure you remember us talking about me making a top for you but you probably saw peeks of it whenever you managed to sneak up on me...Anyways I finally finished it!”

The moth gets up to get a better look at the top.

“____ it must have taken so long to make this. It looks really well done.”

Bruno takes off his sweater and you hand the top to him. When it’s finally on, you almost die. It looks good on him, really good.

The moth looks at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes...wait put on some bottoms too.”

Your eyes follow his every movement as he slips on a pair of black bottoms.

“Amore, you look like you're going to pass out…”

“Probably. You look so good! I was worried all your fluff would get in the way but it actually looks nice with it.” You nod to yourself. “Yep, I’m definitely showing my mentor this!”

“Mentor?”

“Well kinda. This spider helped me learn how to do lace so I could make this outfit for you.”

He tilts his head as if he misheard. “Did you just say spider?”

“He’s completely harmless I swear! I thought he would be dangerous and was nervous to approach him but turns out the rumors were true.”

“Rumors? ….Well if you say he’s safe then I won’t worry. Or at least I’ll try not too.”

Bruno however still looks skeptical.

“Don’t worry, I'm being safe and if he wanted to eat me he definitely had multiple chances to do it.”

The moth’s brows furrow from your statement but you continue on. “You'll go with me to model the outfit right?”

“Of course.”

“Make sure you wear bottoms too!”

He grins. “I will.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for this gift. You're very talented and I’m glad to show that off.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you’re wordless for a tick but manage to nod. “It’s no problem. I love making stuff for you...”

After gifting Bruno’s top, the days seem to pass quickly. Other than stitching patterns into the hairband you made for Narancia you’re mainly packing and cleaning. And during this time, the sun starts to make more frequent appearances and the weather slowly gets warmer. It’s not long before you don’t have to put on multiple layers before going outside anymore.

While the three of you are outside trying to clean up the leftover items from the melted pile of snow that were once your lovely snowbugs, you notice the start of a few new leaves growing on the mostly bare branches of the tree.

It was still a bit cold but maybe just maybe if you tried you could take flight. You flap your wings a few times to wake them up from the long period of non use. You then try to get off the ground but you’re only left exhausted from your attempt.

Bruno comes up behind looking at you expectantly. You sigh and move your wings down so he can so he can properly wrap his arms around you. He then starts rapidly vibrating and of course Narancia latches onto your leg and begins giggling when the vibrating spreads to him. You laugh along but are momentarily surprised when you feel vibrations coming from the bee too. It’s nowhere near the level of Bruno’s but it was better than anything you could do.

After you're warm enough Bruno and Narancia let go and with a few flaps of your wings you’re back in the air. You almost cheer in excitement and immediately make a round about the house before flying up towards the branches of the tree.

“Finally!”

You always took flying for granted until it was taken away from you for a whole season. You take a moment to enjoy the sun's beams through the parts in the branches before lowering back down to where Bruno and Narancia stand. However you're not ready to stop flying just yet and stay off your feet.

Narancia, who has been watching excitedly, reaches up towards you when you get close. “I wanna fly too!”

You look down at him, amused, grab his arms and lift him up before spinning him around. His squeals and giggles fill the air.

A small smile sits on Bruno’s face, content with just watching you two.

You play around with Narancia a bit more in the air before putting him down.

“Your wings are so cool! I can't wait to have wings too!”

You hadn't gotten yours until you were well into your teens and went through your pupa stage, but perhaps bees grew theirs at a different time.

“One day you will but I don't mind carrying you until then! I’ll even take you to visit flowers with me.”

Narancia smiles, “Yes! Can we go now?”

Bruno jumps in before you actually answer knowing that you would most likely say anything other than no. “Another day Narancia. We came out here to clean up.”

He pouts at Bruno but before he can start whining the moth gives him a look that clearly says ‘don't start’.

The bee crosses his arms and huffs. “Fine!”

You struggle to hold back your laughter when Bruno shakes his head.

[darkeninganon]

(Quackity, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo finally interact in the Ender Family AU! Dream’s design is based on @winifreyd and their White Enderman Dream design! Warning for referenced torture, extreme injuries, forced feeding, mouth trauma, tortured, choking, and cursing. If you spot something else, message me and I will add it and apologize profusely.)

Ranboo fidgeted, dreading this plan. Tommy and Tubbo- okay, no, just Tubbo- had made up this plan the same day Quackity had left the prison with a beautiful... fur coat. A white fur coat. Everyone knew Dream was covered in white fur, and took such great pride in it, he was likely to kill you just for talking about touching it. Well… Technically he had that right because to touch his fur you had to touch him, and he did not like to be touched.

A hand rubbed against his own, drawing Ranboo from his mind. He looked to where the hand came from, finding Tubbo running his finger through Ranboo’s fur. Right, Tubbo liked to feel Ranboo’s fur when he got too nervous. The half enderman looked to Tommy, who was biting his nails. Ranboo pulled up his sleeve, holding his arm out in front of Tommy. The other boy looked at him, incredulous and confused. “Apparently petting me helps people calm down.” The half enderman laughed, dry and nervous.

Tommy hummed, looking back towards the entrance to the entrance of the prison. They were in the portal area, right outside the prison. They all had seen what Dream had become, now they needed to confront one of the people who may have contributed or even allowed it to happen. The trio sat there, waiting as the day passed by, slowly but surely, Tommy and Tubbo getting more and more antsy as Quackity’s arrival was delayed longer and longer.

Finally, the guest of honor had arrived. Quackity turned the corner, freezing as the three teens perked up and locked eyes with him.

“Oh… What… what’re you guys doing here?” Quackity questioned, stepping into the open room. He couldn’t look suspicious to these three. Not now, not when he was so close.

“We were waiting for you.” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms as he struggled to stand up, legs having cramped and fallen asleep hours ago. “We have some questions for you Big Q.”

“Oh, well, what do you want to know?”

“Why the hell are you visiting the prison everyday?”

Quackity stared at Tommy, as if he had never expected anyone to ask that question, ever. “Uh, I’m training to be the next warden. Why else would I be going to the prison?” He laughed, a nervous flicker of his eyes.

“Great, where do you live?” Ranboo stepped in now, rolling Tubbo’s sleeve between his fingers as his platonic husband continued to pet his fur. “We kind of haven’t seen you in like… Forever.”

Quackity nodded. “Yeah, I uh, made a country. Las Nevada. It’s pretty cool.” He fidgeted. He needed to pay Dream his daily visit… Or ask Sam to fill in for him. “Do you guys want to see it?” The three teens nodded, believing the story so far. “Great! Follow me. It’s pretty far.” Quackity smiled, walking off with the three boys in tow. Sam looked out from the cameras, breathing a sigh as the group left. He could only hope Quackity wouldn't want to show off his trophies.

Sam jumped as his communicator went off. A message from Quackity: I'm trusting you to convince Dream today. Sorry to put this on you so suddenly. Sam sighed, his grip growing tighter. He... He had to. For Tommy. For Tubbo. For the whole SMP. Sam sent back a quick response: Roger.

Sam sighed, standing up and heading for the cell. He had to at least try. Yet another sigh. He was sighing too much these days. Sam walked to the cell, drinking a fire resistance potion and swimming through. His eyes landed on Dream, curled up and bandaged, fur grimy and dirty. He hadn't moved in days, potatoes rotting in the pool of water that was used as a reset point for the prisoners. Not that Dream would ever use it, what with his one cannon life left. Sam stormed over to Dream, tangling his hands in the creatures hair to retch his head up. Dream opened his eye, cloudy and unfocused.

A mumble fell from the creatures lips. One word, probably Sam's name. It didn't matter. "I have to do this Dream. Quackity needs that information." Sam pulled Dream up by his hair, slamming his head into the wall. Dream stayed there, limp, staring at Sam. The warden shook his head, letting Dream drop to the ground without a care. He walked to the puddle, pulling out one of the rotting potatoes. It was like sludge with a rock-hard core.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. It was gross but Sam wasn't about tear Dream limb-from-limb. That was not his style. Sam stood, walking over to where Dream lay, still limp and pliant. Sam grabbed his chin, digging the points of his gauntlets into Dream's jaw. "You need to eat, or else you'll never heal." With that, Sam shoved the rotten food into Dream's mouth, holding his hand over Dream's mouth, staring down as the prisoner's eyes widened and he started coughing, thrashing and lightly hitting Sam in and effort to get free. "Swallow, Dream. I'm done with you wasting the food you are given."

Dream suddenly grabbed Sam's mask, tearing it off the warden's face in such a way that Sam yelled and fell back, kicking Dream in the face. "What the fuck Dream?! You know that's- ARGH!" Sam screamed in rage. Dream knew not to fight back against Sam, even more than he knew not to fight back against Quackity. Sam had netherite with thorns whereas Quackity did not. Sam grabbed another potato, grabbing Dream's ankle and dragging the gagging prisoner closer. Sam wrapped a hand around Dream's neck, using his greater size to choke and pry Dream's jaw open.

Sam froze.

Dream's sharper canine teeth were gone, while his slightly sharp front teeth were broken beyond repair; jagged and cracked. Dream was gargling some nonsense, pawing at Sam's arm. Sam let go, dropping the rotten food as he did so. He suddenly began to tear at the bandages, staring in horror as the realization slowly hit him: Quackity took Dream's teeth, and Dream... Dream wasn't acting out by not eating.

Sam ran from the cell, running down the corridors and out of the prison. Sam slumped to the ground, covering his mouth. He had left his mask in the cell. He took out his communicator, hands shaking as he typed a message to Quackity: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Quackity cast a glance at his communicator, frowning at the message. He ignored it, putting it back into his packet. "It's right up here." He stated, climbing over the last hill, the lights of the city bathing him in a multicolored glow. "Boys, Welcome... To Las Nevadas!"

The three teens stood on the crest of the hill, mouth agape at the city. It wasn't a city in the normal sense, but there were obviously multiple buildings, each one flashy and bright in its own right, they just blended together in a way that was indescribable.

"Holy shit Big Q!"

"Woah! Nice!"

Ranboo remained silent, staring in awe. He was oblivious to the way Quackity was glaring at him, the way Quackity was sizing him up and seemingly inspecting his eyes and teeth from a distance.

"Come on guys, why don't we get a closer look?"

Quackity's remark finally snapped Ranboo from his trance, finding the other three already a small distance ahead, the half-enderman jogging to catch up to them. Quackity was ranting about the city, talking about how it was mostly just hotels and casinos so far. One or two places for food and drinks, but no actual restaurants. Ranboo spun around as they walked, wanting to take in every detail. Things like this were... They brought something out in him, something that he hadn't felt in... forever? Forever.

The group stopped in front of a massive building, right in the center of the city. "And this is my place! Come on in, make yourselves at home~!" Quackity stated, loudly, opening the door with a flourish. The trio of teens stare in awe; gold, silver, white, and red decorated the whole immediate room, with a huge glowing bar at one end and plenty of tables for poker, slot machines, and other games scattered throughout the room.

The teens separated throughout the room, staring at the whole area. Tommy ran to the bar, making high-pitched noises of awe at all the fancy bottles lining the wall. Tubbo ran to the slot machines, running up and down the rows and rows of them bouncing around and probably imagining how much gold, diamonds, and maybe even netherite he could get. Ranboo ignored all the other tables, walking to a game he had never seen before. It had a wheel at one end, and red-and-black number on a grid going from 1 to 36. Looking back at the wheel, Ranboo found that one spot on the wheel was green, a red ball resting in the spot.

Ranboo picked up the ball. It was... such a weird weight. His back fur stood on end as he continued to look at and play with the ball. What even was it made out of? It looked like it was glazed or covered in glass. And why was his fur raising so much? Why did it make him... uncomfortable? No, not uncomfortable... scared, sick, angry.

Ranboo rolled it around a bit more, putting it back as Quackity called the trio over to a curtain. "This is my VIP room. You guys will be the first to see it!" He seemed so excited, pulling on a beautifully white tassel to draw the curtain open.

The VIP room was much darker, deep blues and blacks covering the small room from floor to ceiling, with dulled redstone lamps over the few sitting areas scatter throughout. Quackity ran off, mentioning that he needed something to make the room complete. Ranboo ignored the room, inspecting the pull used to open the curtain. It looked... Ranboo looked to one of his tails, the white one... The pull looked so much like it. Ranboo began to play with the pull. It was much softer than his tail could ever be, either of them; and it lacked the sleek fur at the end, instead ending in soft, cloud-like fur... or something. Ranboo had no idea what it was made out of, but much like the little ball from the game table, it caused the fur on his neck to stand on end.

"Alright guys! Check this out!" Quackity cheered, finally having come back. He strode into the room, draped in a lovely fur coat, standing out in the dull room as he flopped down on the sofa. Tommy and Tubbo stared in awe. Tubbo was immediately fascinated by how soft it was, while Tommy was inspecting the sleeves and hem.

"Damn Big Q, why the fuck didn't we have you make the uniforms? You would have made them even better than me!"

Quackity gave Tommy a look. "What?"

Tommy held up the bottom hem of the coat. "The seams! God, leather and fur and hide are so fucking hard to work with, but you... Jesus how fucking long did it take you to sew this? The seams are invisible. You have to teach me." Tommy continued to inspect the coat where the seams should be, clearly fascinated.

Ranboo came over as well, cautiously reaching out to feel the fur coat. His fur was raising again, telling him to do something... to take the fur coat and then beat Quackity senseless. Then his finger touched the fur.

All fight left Ranboo.

The ball came to mind.

The curtain pull came to mind.

And now the fur coat.

Ranboo ran from the building, clawing his way over the hills. He could hear Tommy and Tubbo yelling for him, asking him what was wrong. He didn't answer... Tubbo should know, Tubbo should be able to tell.

The fur of an Enderman is very distinct, after all.

[pennylanefics]

I’ll Always Love You - Michael Gray

a/n: second time around 🙄 tumblr needs to get its shit together. i had this ready to be posted and when i did, everything but the title was gone. stupid. anyway, enjoy :)

warnings: cheating, mentions of miscarriage

•••

“Hi Polly,” you greet the older woman with a smile. She returns the gesture and lets you inside her home.

“Michael should be home soon. His ship docked ten minutes ago, I think.” You had been waiting for this day for weeks. Years, actually.

Michael left you abruptly four years ago for America, saying something about needing to leave because of Tommy. You were confused and lost, you barely got an explanation and he broke up with you right then and there. So now that he was returning, you were excited to reconnect and hopefully go back to the way things were.

“Have you spoken to him much?” Polly shakes her head as she hands you a cup of tea, taking a seat a couple feet away from you.

“I haven’t heard anything from him. The only reason I know the ship is docked is because I saw it while coming home.”

“I hope we can pick up where he left us. I really love him, Polly.”

“I know you do, dear. If he doesn’t see how much he hurt you, I’ll have Tommy knock some sense into him.” You chuckle and take a sip of your tea. As you were going to respond, the front door clicks and in walks Michael.

He looks very different, older, more defined facial features. So incredibly handsome.

A small smile makes its way onto your lips, but that soon drops when a woman walks in behind him, looping her arm through his. She looks you up and down, wondering what another woman was doing here.

“Hi mum,” Michael greets, ignoring you, even though he looked right at you.

“Michael,” she nods, focusing her attention on you. She felt so bad and she resented her son for treating you like this.

“This is Gina. Gina Gray.” That’s when you feel your heart shatter. He has a wife. After dumping you like you were nothing. Polly keeps her eyes forward, sensing the awkward tension.

“The least you could do is look at her, mum. She is my wife.” Tears were piercing your eyes, trying hard to fall down your cheeks, but you kept them at bay as best as you could.

“Yes, I know. But do you not realize what you did to (Y/N)?” She finally glares at him. His gaze shifts to you and a sudden wave of guilt washes over him. He clenches his jaw, not wanting to say what was exactly on his mind.

“It’s alright, Polly. I need to get home anyway. My mum says we’re having family over for dinner and she needed me to help.” This was a complete lie, and Polly could tell. You gather your purse and coat, quickly walking past the only man you’ve ever loved and his new wife.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was going to be here?” You hear Michael say before the door shuts behind you. That’s when your tears finally fall, clouding your vision as you make your way to The Garrison instead. You needed a drink, bad.

“One whisky please,” you mumble, taking a seat at the bar.

“Tough day?” Henry wonders.

“You have no idea.”

“You hear Michael’s back in town, right?” You sigh shakily and gulp back the entire glass within seconds.

“That’s what’s tough about today.” Henry’s eyebrows furrow as he leans closer to you, wanting to know all of the gossip.

“Why’s that?”

“He’s married. Got some new whore in America.” Henry shakes his head in shame. He knew you loved Michael, he could tell the best out of anyone.

“His loss, love. You’ll find someone.” You offer a small smile and take a second drink of your refilled glass.

“I don’t want anyone, I wanted Michael,” you mumble to yourself as Henry walks away. The Garrison was almost empty, aside from one guy sitting at the far end of the bar.

You were staring at your empty glass, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. Suddenly, Henry appears in front of you again.

“This is from the gentleman at the end of the bar,�� he says, placing another glass in front of you, filled with whiskey.

“Huh?” You look down to the end that Henry was pointing to and find a handsome man gazing at you with a sweet smile on his lips. You smile back and wave to him, which prompts him to stand and make his way over to you.

“‘Ello, darling,” his French accent is prominent. It sends a shiver up your spine and you turn towards him as he takes a seat in the chair next to yours.

“Um, hello.”

“Have a hard day?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“You want to talk about it? Or would you like another drink?” He offers. You grin at him and raise your glass to Arthur for another.

You and the man, who you find out is named Florian, chat and drink together for the rest of the night. You share laughs, you share stories of lost loves, which makes you feel much better about losing Michael.

“So, do you want to come back where I’m staying?” He wonders after lots of drinks and giggles.

“Yeah,” you bite your lip, taking a hold of his arm to stand. He helps you out of The Garrison and back to the hotel he’s currently staying in since he’s on leave from France.

That’s the start of your relationship. For a month, you see each other almost every day, and you try to see him every night, if you can. Your nights are usually spent in bed, making love and just caressing each other.

At the end of the month, Florian has to make the choice of leaving you for his job, or leaving his job for you. After lots of discussing, you make the decision to move away to France with him and start a new life.

That was also the last time you thought about Michael.

Three years later, you are happily married, living a perfect life in the French countryside. Florian ended up moving into his parents house after they moved across the country, so that’s where you reside now. He has to drive about an hour to work in the city, but it’s worth it.

“Honey, are we going back to Birmingham this week?” Florian asks as he walks inside. You were in the kitchen cooking dinner and he makes his way to the doorway of the kitchen to see you.

“Yeah. Mum wrote to me saying that my sister is back in town and she’s planning a big dinner for everyone.”

“That sounds great,” he whispers, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’ll be a nice time. My mum really likes you and I’m sure my sister will.” His lips press against the base of your neck before pulling away and taking a seat at the table.

Birmingham was just as you remember it. Dirty, cold, and grimy. You definitely didn’t miss it one bit.

“Here, love. I’ll get your bags,” Florian grabs your suitcases from your hands. Days before, you found out you were pregnant. You had been feeling under the weather, and your doctor ended up confirming that you were with a quick visit.

“Hi mum!” You greet, stepping inside. You hear something drop in the kitchen and she suddenly appears, opening her arms to bring you in for a hug.

“It’s nice seeing you again. Is (Y/S/N) here?”

“(Y/N)!” Your sister’s voice rings out from the hall.

“Hey!” You close the space and hug her tightly. Ever since she moved to America, you hadn’t seen her much, so it was great to finally be with her again, and even share the exciting news you had.

“I have something to announce,” you say, during dinner. Everyone stops eating and looks at you, a happy and proud look on Florian’s face.

“We’re going to have a baby!” Your mother gasps and begins to cry right away, and your sister’s smile is the biggest you’ve ever seen.

“That’s so great! Oh my goodness!” Your mother pulls you and Florian into a hug.

The rest of your visit goes well. Florian decides to help your mom around the house with some chores while you go with (Y/S/N) to The Garrison to see everyone again. The only thing is that the Peaky Blinders are there. Including Michael.

“(Y/N), is that you?!” Henry shouts, of course getting everyone’s attention.

“It’s so good to see you!” He pulls you in for a quick hug.

“How about a drink like old times?” You chuckle awkwardly and rub your stomach, (Y/S/N) smiling at you.

“I actually can’t. I’m pregnant.” He is surprised but happy for you, cheering and getting the entire bar to drink to you.

“How about something for the lady with you then?” (Y/S/N) makes her way to the bar and takes a seat, and as you are following her, a pair of familiar eyes catch yours.

“Michael,” you mumble, keeping your eyes down as he walks past you.

“Congratulations,” he nods, walking out of the pub. He smells exactly how you remember him, like cigarettes and fancy cologne, and a slight hint of some sort of alcohol. It was intoxicating.

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” (Y/S/N) breaks you from your daze. Quickly snapping back, you shake your head and take a seat next to her.

“Nothing at all,” you mumble, wanting a drink so bad to make you forget about Michael.

—

Things fall apart when you go back to France.

One day, you were in the front yard doing some gardening, when a woman with a young child came walking up the dirt road.

“Um, hi, can I help you?” You wonder, standing to talk with her.

“I’m looking for Florian, is he here?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wanting to know why the hell she was looking for your husband.

“I’m sorry, who are you and why do you want to see my husband?” Her expression softens as she readjusts the child on her hip.

“This is his daughter and I wanted him to meet her.” Your heart drops to your stomach and you stumble back a little bit.

“Wh-what? No. No, that’s not, that’s not possible,” you stutter out, feeling your chest tighten and your breath stagger.

“We’ve been married for two years. How old is she?”

“Around nine months,” she whispers. Tears burn your eyes and a sudden rage fills you. Ignoring her, you run inside and find Florian in his office.

“Hi love, what’s wrong?” He senses your anxiety right away and gets up to comfort you, but as soon as his hand nears you, you slap it away.

“You fucking had an affair! There’s some woman outside claiming that you need to meet your nine month old daughter.” Florian’s gaze falters as he tries to think of an excuse. It was obvious.

“Don’t lie to me, Florian. Tell me. Did you sleep with that woman?” The room is silent for a few seconds before he nods.

“I did. When I was sent away to Belgium for work.” You scoff and rub your hands over your face, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into bed and not leave.

Your hands were shaking as you tried to retain this information, and that’s when the sparkle of your ring catches your eye. You rip it off as soon as you can and throw it at him.

“Hope it was worth it. I’m going back home,” you say confidently.

“Darling, don’t do this. Please. It was one night,” Florian tries to reason with you. But still, you push him away every time he tries to interfere.

“It wasn’t just one night. That one night turned into you having a daughter. I can’t be around you anymore without thinking about it.” You finish packing your things, which thankfully wasn’t a lot, and get on your way.

With all the stress of moving back to Birmingham, the news of your “loving” husband cheating on you, and finding out that he had a daughter from that affair, you ended up losing your own baby.

It was a hard time. You were left alone, your mother not having any idea on how to comfort you, so you suffered in silence. Your sister had gone back to America at that point, so you had no one.

A few days after settling in, to clear your mind, you take a car out to your favorite lake on the edge of the city. It reminded you of the countryside in France, no buildings, no smog or exhaust, it was peaceful.

You spent the day alone, laying on your blanket, basking in the sun, and watching the lake. That was of course interrupted, though.

You were playing with some blades of grass when you heard footsteps behind you. Slightly worried, you turn and see Michael approaching you. You turn back around, not wanting to deal with this right now.

“Can I sit?” He asks quietly. You nod meekly, keeping your eyes forward. He doesn’t say anything for a short while.

“I asked your mum where you were,” he whispers. “I saw that you were back a few days ago.”

“Yeah, I’m back for good.”

“Why’s that?” His voice is soft and caring. You’ve never heard him be so...sweet.

“Florian…” you sigh, trying hard to keep your tears at bay. “He had an affair that ended with her getting pregnant, so he has a nine month old daughter.” Michael has no idea what to say. He noticed how happy you were when you saw Henry and announced you were pregnant.

“So I left. Not going back ever again.”

“But what about your baby? Are you going to let him see his other child?” His question makes your tears fall and a loud sob escape your lips. You hunch over, not wanting him to see you like this.

“Love?” The pet name brings back memories of when you two were together. It’s been close to seven years since you heard it.

“I lost the baby,” you whimper. Right away, you feel his hand on your back, rubbing up and down to comfort you.

“Shh, it’s okay to cry, darling,” he whispers, scooting a bit closer to you. His presence was very calming and loving, something you missed about him.

“I hate him so much,” you sob. “I give up on finding love. First you, now Florian.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. You leave me for some American woman, I then found a sweet Frenchman, only for him to cheat and have a child with someone else three years into the relationship.”

“I still love you,” he admits. Your crying ceases right away and you look up to him.

“What?” He takes a deep breath, wanting to have a smoke, but he knows how much you hate when he does it around you. “You have a wife.”

“I found out Gina was manipulating me to get further closer to my family’s business and basically use me. She got pregnant as well, but it’s not mine. So she went back to America after I kicked her out. Told her she wasn’t a Gray anymore. So I guess both of our marriages failed horribly.” You smile softly upon hearing that she wasn’t that great of a woman.

“I guess so.” Silence takes over since you have no idea what he wants or why he’s even here.

“I want to apologize for everything,” he finally says. Your eyes remain on your hands in front of you, terrified to look at him.

“For leaving you with no explanation, for breaking things off so easily, for marrying another woman, for putting you through all of that, for four years. I really am sorry. Ever since I saw you that day in my home, I regretted everything. I should have never left for America, even though I needed to. I should have stayed with you.”

“I do wish I would have gotten an explanation as to why you were suddenly gone.” Michael chuckles and that’s when you finally glance at him.

That warm, sweet smile of his graced his lips, and you could feel your heart flutter, just like it used to.

“I love you,” he says. His hand raises up to caress your cheek softly. His thumb gently wipes the tears away and stays there even after they’re gone. His touch sends fire through your body and in that moment, you realize how much you actually missed him.

“I love you too, Michael.” Slowly, he leans in, pulling you forward. You lean onto your palm to move closer to him and finally, your lips meet.

You can’t help but cry even more, getting flashbacks of all the times you kissed Michael. In sad times, in happy times, in loving times, in his office, in his bed, at the train station every time he left for somewhere. You wanted to stay here forever.

When you pull away, he rests his forehead on yours, wanting and needing to be as close to you as possible.

“Is there any way you can forgive me?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“Of course I can,” you respond with no hesitation. He pulls you in for another kiss, this time pushing you down so you were laying on your back. Both of the kisses you shared, he poured every single emotion in his body into them. Love, to show you how much he still cares for you, regret, for everything he did, and sympathy, for everything that’s happened to you since he left.

“Let’s go away for a few weeks,” he suggests. You pull away from him and give him a questioning look.

“Where to?” He shrugs, playing with your free hand.

“My foster mum doesn’t live at her cottage anymore. Ever since my foster dad passed away, she’s lived with her own mum to help care for her. We could always go there.”

“Would she be okay with that?”

“Yeah. Plus, I want to show you the place I grew up.”

“That would be really nice.” Michael sits up and stands, grabbing your hands to help you up.

“I miss living in the countryside. That’s where Florian and I lived. I loved our little house and everything. Besides him.”

“No talk of Florian or Gina while we’re together, alright? Those two are behind us now.” A small grin appears on your lips as you cuddle into Michael’s body.

“Agreed.”

•••

@peakyxtommy

[elionwriter]

GOOD OMENS FANFICTION: A World for Three

PROLOGUE

In a quaint, little bookshop in Soho and a fancy apartment of Mayfair an angel and a demon were living their lives very much the same way they always had. It was a life made of precious and antique books; of plants growing lushly under the pressure of constant death threats; of strolls in the park and dinners at the Ritz. I should correct my previous statement, though, and say that the two were living their lives exactly the way they always should have: together.

While most of their habits and daily activities remained the same, doing all those things together without having to hide or lie to their respective workplaces made them feel altogether new and fulfilling. Aziraphale and Crowley had united to stop the Apocalypse, they had trusted each other and played with fire and had, against all odds, won.

After thousands of years, Aziraphale could now lift his gaze from the book he was reading, comfortably sat in his chair and expect to find Crowley there, on the old, battered couch snoozing peacefully. Crowley could finally extend shyly his open palm across the table as the angel ate his meal and feel the other gently taking it with his free hand. It was, in short, the perfect life for two people on their own side.  

Things however weren’t the same everywhere. As a matter of fact, both in Heaven and Hell things had too suddenly changed and far too radically. At the darkest hour of a cloudy and desolate night another demon and another angel met to discuss.

On an empty bench in St.James park a thunder suddenly stroke and from it appeared the Archangel Gabriel. A fly, which was laying around, turned its head and flew up towards the newly arrived. A bunch of flies laying all around all followed at once and came together forming a cloud. The flies seemed to look reproachfully at the angel but his overstretched and fake smile didn’t falter. The flies moved to the archangel’s side on the bench and gave shape to the prince of hell Beelzebub. - ...zzz you are late!- She buzzed with annoyance.

- Very sorry for that, an emergency came up.- Gabriel said slinging a purple scarf around his neck. - Apparently there was a sudden incursion of demons trying to cause havoc in one of our offices.- He continued giving the other a side glance. He pulled out a plastic, food container filled with grimy, disgusting goo and passed it to her. - I believe these agents or whatever remains of them are yours.-

Beelzebub took the container and tossed it away, purposefully missing the trashcan by a few inches. - Not my zzz fault! Those idiots were zzz buzzzzing on their own account. Keeping those rejects from Heaven and demented sinners at bay has become more a pain in the azzz than it ever was.- Gabriel nodded sternly - You have no idea what is going on upstairs. Diligent angels, steady workers which have never done so much as lift their heads off their papers are now...taking coffee breaks!- He shuddered in horror.

- Huh, our coffee machine is alwayzzz flooded with people. Zzz Too bad it drips cold gunk instead of actual coffee...I didn’t even zzz know you had a coffee machine.-  - We don’t. They suspend their work to talk, chat, whisper, gossip. They gather on the sofas and mumble in groups constantly looking over their shoulder, hiding behind the palm branches and decorative plants! That’s the first and wost sign of insubordination.- Beelzebub smirked - That’zzzz how it started the first time zzzz... ooooohhh, I remember it well. Demons aren’t so subtle: you can hear them squabbling a mile away -

- I think I know what they’re talking about.- Gabriel started - How can a demon survive a bath in Holy Water?- - How can zzz an angel step into a pier of Hell Fire and zzz come out unscathed?- continued Beelzebub. - We may have panicked at first but now, thinking about it clearly, I’m pretty sure they cheated, somehow. They helped each other out and escaped our grasp, somehow.- Gabriel said pulling at his collar as he floundered both with his reasoning and his gestures.

Beelzebub got up, stretching her legs. - That izzzzn’t the point! Zzzz Even if they have weaseled their way out of their punishments, we don’t have a clue how they zzz did it or even lezzz ‘why’. Why did an angel and a zzz demon work together? Why risk their necks for each other and this planet? They both had much more to gain by staying in rank, doing azzz told. We’re different typezzz of creaturezzz, oppozzzite. Our kinds do not mesh! -

Gabriel and Beelzebub looked at each other with poorly concealed disgust at the prospect of ‘fraternizing’. - That’s what we’re here to discuss exactly! People are beginning to wonder: is it really impossible to come together? Are we really that different? If Aziraphale and Crowley could, can someone else do the same: Change in the way it appears they did? If God allowed it, were they really wrong at foiling the Great Plan?-

Gabriel said in a final tone, standing up as well, making the ground slightly tremble under his feet. Beelzebub’s flies scrambled around, buzzing with frustrated confusion before aligning her figure again. - Zzzz That’s more than we can afford! We need to shush the commentzzz, kill the theories and the uproar at once zzz!- Gabriel nodded - Reestablish the status quo!- - Zzz but how zzz?-

The two remained in silence for a moment, Gabriel pacing up and down, Beelzebub standing still on the spot burning the grass around her feet. Then, Gabriel spoke up - Things need to be explained in a way that all can understand. A way we see fit.- Beelzebub closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again saying - One of the two needs to change side. Either Crowley ascends or Aziraphale falls.- Gabriel’s smile turned instantly upside down and he moved towards her - How exactly did you reach this conclusion?! How is it in any way a solution? -

Beelzebub grabbed his arrogant mug and pulled him down to her level with anger. With her free hand she sent a wave on the nearby waters of the duck pond and a simplified set of images illustrated her plan. - They have both showed traits that make them more similar to the opposite faction than their own. If one of them bridges the gap it won’t be so strange that they could get in touch with their enemy and it would explain their failed execution: their spirit wasn’t in the right place!-

Gabriel sneaked out of Beelzebub’s grasp and massaging his face considered her words - Yeeees, I can see it now. Poor, unfortunate Crowley: a demon who’s never truly given up his angelic nature and found his way back to the glory of Heaven where he belongs thanks to the guiding force of Aziraphale which saw the light in him and converted him back. Oh goody, There hasn’t been an ascent since the days of Moses and Abel. This way our agent is shown to have done his true duty all along and Heavens scores a victory! I like it!-

- Ooooor, Zzzz Aziraphale wazzz ready to fall and our agent Crowley gave him the final push by tempting him into the greatest act of defiance of all zzz: going against God’zzz plan! The first fall since the Angelic war. - -Yes, well, we’ll consider which version to go with, eventually, but the important thing is that we can agree on how to take action. I believe we have the perfect agent for this mission!- - We’ll contact our own immediately zzz.- said Beelzebub.

Gabriel was already rubbing his hands in anticipation when a bothersome thought crossed his mind - ...You don’t actually intend to take those two back, do you?- - Off course not zzz! They are dangerouzzz and subverzzzive, especially together. We might not know how they escaped their sentence but they do. Let’zzz make them take care of each other. By the time we’re through with them zzz, it’ll be Crowley himself to kill off that chubby, impertinent angel.- - ooor Aziraphale to eliminate that sappy, depressed demon.- -Whatever!- - I’m glad that we agree.- Said Gabriel offering a hand to shake but Beelzebub seemed to have no intention of shaking back.

When Gabriel took sight of how dirty and disgusting her hands were he immediately pulled his own back. - Zzzz What about that ‘other’ matter? Have you seen into it or zzz have you truly come here to try my patience and destroy my sense of smell zzz with that garbage you’ve got on you? UH, what is it?- Beelzebub asked wrinkling her nose. -It’s cologne: ‘Old Spice’.- The angel answered proudly. - It’zzz disgusting!- - Anyway, I did my homework and I think we have the perfect subject. Adam Young proved to be a poor Antichrist but I feel our new, little friend will fare better.-                      

[Ch. 1: A World for Two]

https://elionwriter.tumblr.com/post/656426753918664704/good-omens-a-world-for-three-chapter-1

[vizhi0nw]

Ghost

Pairing: Kenny Ackerman/OC

Warnings: Violence, Language. This chapter in particular contains extremely graphic content - rape, as well as disturbing gore. There is consensual smut, as well. 

Words:  5.5k

Summary: Kenny Ackerman had never met someone with a reputation just as bad as his own.

AO3

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Part 2 of 4

Citadel

Eight months passed before another stranger burst through the door to Leyla’s shop.

The bottle of booze she’d shared with Kenny still sat, half empty, on the shelf. She hadn’t touched it once - it remained stationary, a reminder of her meeting with Kenny that she still, eight months later, couldn’t get out of her head. 

She couldn’t get him - that cocky smile emphasized by pearly white teeth, the smell of tobacco and sweat and blood, out of her head. Part of her had hoped he’d return, maybe offer to purchase something from the shop even though it wasn’t a shop anymore, it was just Leyla’s getaway. 

When the strangers entered, Leyla looked up, eyebrows raised, as she expected to see him - but instead she saw an unfamiliar face. Two unfamiliar faces, rough looking men with somber demeanors. They weren’t MP’s - they would have worn their uniforms, all poised and professional. No, MP’s weren’t this quiet.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Leyla finished wiping down the countertop, tossing the rag aside and bracing both arms on the slick-clean surface. “This isn’t a shop. I know it says it on the sign but...we’ve been closed for a while.”

The two men looked at each other, exchanging glances. Leyla pushed herself up, fingers creeping beneath the countertop where she’d tucked a gun away, right between two bottles of liquor. Her hand closed over the handle right as the two men moved. 

Two bottles crashed to the floor as Leyla yanked her hand back, raising the gun and firing off a shot that caught the first man in the stomach. The impact of the buckshot knocked him back, and before Leyla could fire again, his companion had vaulted over the countertop. Ensuring that she had a firm grip on the weapon, she braced herself as she was slammed, hard, against the liquor shelf. More bottles toppled from their resting place, crashing against the floor. Wet, sticky wine cascaded down Leyla’s face, obscuring her vision, but her fingers managed to grasp the neck of a bottle. 

She screamed and smashed the half-empty bottle of booze that she and Kenny had shared together against the side of her attackers face. He groaned and covered his eyes, face marred from glass - Leyla fired off another shot from her gun at random and felt something splatter against her skin. 

Blood, not wine. 

Furiously wiping her eyes, Leyla blinked. There was a body slumped in front of her. Her other assailant was approaching, knife in hand, seemingly oblivious to the hole Leyla had blasted through his gut. She barely had time to brace herself before she was caught and flung across the countertop, tumbling and landing on the other side, hard. She heard something crack, but wasn’t sure what it was - a wrist, perhaps? 

Leyla’s gun was gone, missing. She lay, disoriented, on the ground. 

“Stupid bitch,” the man spat, palm clutching his stomach to prevent his guts from leaking out all over Leyla’s nice, clean floor. He snarled and kicked her in the abdomen with a steel-toed boot. Leyla grunted, teeth clenching together. “Gonna...fucking kill you. Gotta kill you.” 

“Like hell you are.”

Precision. 

With what little strength she had, Leyla launched herself forward and caught him by the legs. He fell, arms flailing. Leyla immediately went for the wound, gushing blood - she slammed her fist over and over into the bloody pit until her hands were stained crimson. Then, she reached down and twisted. His guttural screams filled the shop, until they didn’t. 

By the time she was done, he was dead, or very nearly dead. His fingers were twitching, eyes open but glossy. 

“Fuck,” Leyla grasped the lapels of his coat. “Who the fuck are you?”

She received only a groan. She reared back and slapped him, hard, and she seemed to refocus.

“Answer me! You’re about to die anyway - tell me so I can fucking kill whoever sent you on this mission!” 

“L-Lord Byren. He s-sent us.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

No response. There was no more life in his eyes. 

Leyla released him and let his head fall unceremoniously against the wooden tiles.

The shop was silent, save for the drip, drip, drip of spilt wine and liquor. It was all over Leyla’s face, shirt, and arms. The red liquid mingled with the blood and she couldn’t tell which was which or how much of each there really was. It made her nauseous. 

She slipped off the corpse, finally realizing just how badly she hurt. Her ribs ached, throbbed, and she assumed they were broken. She had a split lip and she could feel a bruise coming in on her cheek. Her left wrist was most definitely sprained. 

Still, she lived. 

                                                ______________

Kenny’s usual nightly walks through the alleyways of Mitras were normally the only time he truly had to be alone. 

It reminded him of his “wild days,” as he’d fondly referred to it, sneaking around and slitting throats by order of the King. Now, he was the leader of his own squad, and while he relished in the fact that he got to leap into action-head on and wield guns instead of knives, part of him missed it. The solitude. The mystery. The patience it took to stalk his prey and move in for the kill. Each time he walked along the riverside, he was reminded of the many times he’d frequented the water to toss corpses. He’d lost count of how many MP’s he’d stripped and dumped. It had to be in the dozens - hundreds, maybe? That’s what the legends were saying.

Kenny never listened to the legends. He, for some wild reason, found strangers recounts of his “wild days” to be boring. It was much better to do, not hear. 

The cigarette between his lips was starting to taste bitter. He discarded it, grinding it beneath his foot. When he looked up, he caught a flash of grey before he felt a surprisingly firm hand lay flat against his chest and back him against the alley wall. 

His knife was in his hand before the figure could even speak. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Kenny paused. He was close, oh so close, to spilling the girls guts across the ground. He recognized her voice immediately, pausing only when she lifted her head to look him in the eye. 

A bruise marred the deep brown skin of her cheek. Her eyes were bloodshot, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Her full lips were stretched into a line, nose crinkled as she glared daggers at Kenny. 

“I need your help,” her voice was strained. “Kenny.”

He raised his eyebrows. She eased off him, stepping back a few feet. She wore an oversized jacket, hood flipped up over her head. She looked just as grimy and suspicious as Kenny did, and he almost laughed at the comedy of it all. 

He’d tried to kill her eight months ago. Yet here she was, asking him for help. 

“You know, I never caught your name before.”

“Leyla.”

“Leyla,” he tested the name on his lips. It was a pretty name for a pretty girl, he concluded. “What exactly do you need me for, Leyla?”

“I need information.”

“Information on what?”

Leyla glanced around. It was the dead of night, and Mitras seemed even deader. There were no MP’s slinking around at this time, nor were there any civilians out. This was Kenny’s hour, and nobody else’s.

Except for now.

“Two men attacked me yesterday. I managed to kill one and interrogate the other before he succumbed to his own wounds,” Leyla gestured to her bruised face with one jabbing finger. “Before he died...he said that a man named Lord Byren sent them. Does that name sound familiar to you?” 

Lord Byren. 

Kenny winced. He almost considered lying - he knew Lord Byren, of course. Or, he knew of him. The tales were far from delightful. The idea that he was going to potentially get involved with Leyla’s drama with Byren made him hesitate even telling her the information in the first place. 

Part of him, however, couldn’t lie. The stories about Byren painted him as relentless. He’d send more men and Leyla would die. 

Kenny coughed. He needed another smoke. 

“I know of him. Evil bastard, he is. He ain’t someone you wanna mess with.”

“I never stole from his estate-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kenny hummed, lighting another cigarette and letting it hang from his mouth. “I told you last time, the people up here talk about you. The phantom. He probably sent those men because he assumed you’d come for his shit next.”

“I don’t know how he found me.”

“I sure as fuck didn’t tell him. Byren isn’t someone who’s company I frequent,” Kenny waved a hand. “You’re shit out of luck. That’s all I can tell you.”

Leyla reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She let out a deep sigh, eyes closing for a minute, before they opened, shining with renewed determination. 

“I need you to take me to him.” 

“Oh, for fucks sake, Leyla-”

“I have a plan and I need you for it. Please. You’re my way in,” Leyla gulped. “I need to get these people off my back before I can keep doing what I’m doing-”

“Have you considered that what you’re doing is stupid?” Kenny snapped. He tilted his head back and blew a long stream of smoke into the night sky. “I know you care about those people in the Underground, but take it from an old timer - they ain’t worth it.”

“Maybe to you.”

“You really wanna get yourself killed for those people?”

“Why the fuck not?” 

Kenny stubbed his cigarette a little too hard against the alley wall, ashes and embers falling to the floor. She was a stubborn brat. A stubborn brat who needed to wake up and realize that she was going down a path that would eventually get her killed. 

It had taken Kuchel’s death for him to finally, officially, shed the mantle of Kenny the Ripper and let his notoriety fade away. He knew that Leyla didn’t have the same luxury of family. 

“You’d toss it all away. Your life,” Kenny murmured. “For a bunch of bottom-feeders. Fucking pathetic.”

“I want this asshole off my back and I want you to help. You can either pussy out now or I’ll do it myself-”

“You ain’t doing it yourself. I’ll help you,” Kenny pushed himself off the alley wall, glancing down at Leyla. “On the condition that, once you’re in, I be nowhere near the scene when all hell breaks loose.”

“Deal.”

                                                    ____________

Kenny was staring. 

Leyla had caught him, multiple times. He’d tear his eyes away and pretend to be fiddling with his anti-personnel gear, his guns and his hooks. Then, his eyes would wander. His gaze would float across the expanse of her thigh, up past the corset squeezing her waist, to the mounts of her breast, the curve of her neck. He’d lick his lips, and when Leyla would gesture, he’d sharply turn his head and pretend not to be looking.

Rinse, and then repeat. 

Leyla hadn’t donned her work uniform in several years. She’d only worked at the brothel after her grandfather had died - he would have been ashamed to see her dressed like a harlot and taking cock for cash. She’d needed the money and had been desperate. She’d been lucky to have avoided the more...primal clientele, and when she’d left, she’d managed to save up a decent amount of cash to get by. It was then that she’d realized her true purpose. 

She’d kept the outfit for sentimental reasons, having never thought that she’d be putting it on again. She was painting her face, now making sure her cheeks were flushed pink and her lips were a deep ruby red. She’d styled the coils atop her head into a neat bun, with Kenny having observed, mildly fascinated, for part of the time. 

“Women and their hair,” he’d snorted and gone back to cleaning his gun. 

“Men and their guns. Always so volatile.” 

Kenny had ducked his head to hide his smile, then. 

Now, they were ready, with Leyla having donned an overcoat to hide her outfit, while Kenny’s own coat was hiding the armory of anti-personnel gear he’d strapped to his body. Then, they linked arms and began walking towards Byren’s palace, with Kenny taking the lead. 

The sun was beginning to sink beneath the horizon, and Mitras was winding down for the night. It was the first time Leyla had ever dared reveal her face to the above-ground public, though she knew she wouldn’t be recognized by any of the civilians, or even the MP’s. 

She truly was a phantom. 

“Keep your mouth shut and let me talk,” Kenny pinched her arm as they approached the Byren estate. It was a mansion, similar to that of other nobility, right near the east side, near the wall. The house was a beautiful, architectural wonder with an impressive courtyard and columns made of bright, white stone. The gates were tall and made of iron. 

There were guards - two of them. When they saw who was approaching, they stepped forward. 

“Kenny.”

Kenny tipped his hat. He slipped his arm from around Leyla’s and gripped her shoulder, hard. “I have a gift for Vibro. I heard he’s collecting whores.”

Leyla bit her lower lip. This part had been Kenny’s idea - he’d revealed to her that Byren had a particular taste for women who couldn’t fight back, something that disgusted Leyla to her very core. 

“He is,” the guard said. He approached Leyla rather languidly, reaching out to unceremoniously grip her chin with one gloved hand. Resisting the screaming urge to bite his fingers, she allowed him to tilt her face upward, a thumb tapping her lips and indicating for her to open her mouth. “She has all her teeth. Good.”

“I thought he’d want them toothless. Less bitin’.”

“Will do.”

The guard shrugged. “He likes to take risks. She’s good - we’ll take her in.”

Kenny’s smile was wide and almost grotesque. “Tell him this is a ‘thank you’ for getting me out of a tight spot with the MP’s. I owe him.”

Kenny spun on his heels and walked away, not even bothering to shoot Leyla a final look. She could only watch him go for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest before the guard began dragging her past the gates and towards the house. 

The courtyard and the columns were becoming less and less beautiful by the second. The architecture seemed demonic instead of angelic. She felt as if she were being dragged into hell. 

                                                    _____________

Lord Vibro Byren was a disgusting creature. Middle aged, relatively solidly built. He had these blue eyes that seemed to swim with smug malice, and the shock of red hair atop his head was thin, but no less vibrant. He was the opposite of Kenny - dignified, polished, but Leyla knew it was all fake. It was all a ruse. There was a monster lurking beneath his nobility. 

Unlike Kenny, he tried to hide it. Perhaps it was because he had an image to keep up. 

The mansion's great room was open, with shockingly high ceilings and hanging chandeliers. The floorboards were a polished, deep brown wood and the walls were plastered with family portraits and painted landscapes. Leyla had been discarded before Byren, who was seated on a large, velvety couch. There was a woman splayed across his lap and a book in his hand, though he’d snapped it shut the minute Leyla had been tossed like a ragdoll into the room. 

Now, he was staring, eyes narrowed to slits.

“She’s a gift, from Kenny,” the guard said. “This is his ‘thank you’ for what you did last month.”

Byren hummed. The woman laying across him lifted her head from his chest and looked at Leyla’s with big, glassy doe eyes. She seemed under the influence of some sort of narcotic - opium, most likely - though Leyla saw no pipe. She moved at Byren’s command, scrambling off towards the kitchen when he lightly tapped her on the shoulder. 

Leyla could see a few other girls seated in the corner, huddled around. They were all dressed like her. Something about them seemed familiar, but Leyla didn’t have time to analyze their faces before Byren’s harsh voice snapped her back into reality. 

“Leave.”

The guard nodded and disappeared through the double doors from which he’d come. Leyla was alone with the beast, sitting before him on her hands and knees.

He sat up fully, adjusting his crinkled dress shirt. 

“Name?” 

“Rose.” 

“Hm,” Byren looked her up and down, his eyes, of course, lingering on her breasts. “You look decently fed. A bit too thin for my taste but...a whore is a whore. I’ll make use for you.”

“T-thank you.” 

“Kenny brought you, huh?”

Leyla’s face felt hot. In a soft voice, she said, “yes.”

“Did he fuck you before he brought you here?” 

Leyla shook her head. Byren seemed pleased, rubbing his hands together. He stood up, suddenly, and headed towards the kitchen. When he returned, he held a bottle of wine in his tight grip. Very slowly, be beckoned for Leyla to come closer. She obeyed, shuffling forward until she was standing in front of his seated form, the toe of her foot end-to-end with his own. 

He brought the uncorked bottle of wine to his lips, taking a massive swig. Then, he offered the bottle to Leyla.

“Drink.”

“I...I’m not-”

“Drink.”

It wasn’t anything other than a direct order. Leyla’s snatched the bottle from his hand and down a massive gulp, gritting her teeth at the bitter taste. He took the bottle back and let it sit on the table by the arm of the couch. Leyla still stood, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of her skirt before she was yanked into Byron’s lap. 

Big hands fondled her cheek. His lips were rough against Leyla’s own, and she had to kiss him back - she hated it. She hated how, for good measure, she shoved her tongue into his mouth and scraped her fingers across his scalp. 

He needed to believe her. He needed to believe her for just a few more minutes. 

There was a knife strapped to her upper thigh, and he had yet to find it. 

Leyla placed suckling kisses against his lower lip, tugging at the skin with her teeth. His hands were planted firmly on her waist, keeping her in his lap. Leyla’s own hands were free, one creeping very slowly beneath his dress shirt to palm the firm muscles of his chest, the other slipping beneath her skirt to grab the -

He seized her wrist, suddenly. 

No.

When Leyla ripped her lips from his own, he was smiling. 

“I knew a Rose, back in the day. She looked surprisingly like you.”

Leyla was discarded from Byren’s lap and onto the floor. His cheeks were flushed red, the buttons of his dress shirt popped open to reveal a heaving, tan chest. Those sick blue eyes were wide, and as Leyla scrambled to unsheath the knife from her hip, she heard the click of a gun. 

It was the doe-eyed woman. She held the weapon steady, though Leyla could see the faintest tremble in her hand. 

“She had a knack for poking her nose where she shouldn’t,” Byren began buttoning his shirt. “As did her husband. They were smart as a whip, both of them.”

Leyla sat back on her haunches and watched as Byren stood, sauntering back into the kitchen and returning with a gun of his own. This one was older, with a wooden handle carved with what appeared to be the estate’s official insignia. He held it up, angling it so Leyla could get a full view of the weapon. “I shot them with this gun, right here in this very room.”

Leyla’s throat went dry. Her tongue felt huge in her mouth, and she could only glare at Byren as he continued to talk as casually as if he were addressing the weather. There was a ringing in her ear and Byren’s next words sounded muffled, as if she were hearing him through a tunnel. 

“The woman choked on her own blood while her husband tried to save her. I shot him in the head. It was far quicker than what he deserved. I killed them both because they didn’t like what I was doing here. They didn’t like how I ran my estate and how I spent my own money. A shame, really. I considered them friends. They had a child, too. Cute little thing. Her name was Leyla, if I recall. I never forget a face, even if that face is all grown up.”

“You killed my parents.”

Byren tilted his chin upwards. He extended an empty hand and barked, “Marissa!”

The trio of girls huddled in the corner of the room all perked up. One of them - a plump girl with round cheeks and bright, blonde hair, walked over on shaky legs. All color was rapidly disappearing from her face as she came to stand beside Byren, shoulders bunched up, head ducked. 

“They didn’t like what I did to my toys.”

Leyla gasped as Byren cracked Marissa in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. The girl collapsed, letting out a keening wail. The double doors to the great room burst open, and half a dozen guards rushed in, guns drawn. 

Despair settled over Leyla like a raincloud. Byren was very slowly kneeling, having pulled his belt free from its loops. Marissa was lying on her back, trembling, as Byren very slowly peeled her skirt away from her legs. His fisted his cock and began to stroke, while the barrel of his gun prodded at the exposed lips of her cunt. 

“They didn’t like what I did,” Byren seemed to be speaking to himself, now, furiously getting himself off, eyes glued to Marissa. “They didn’t...they didn’t think it was right.”

He slipped the barrel of his gun past her hole. Marissa gave a wail. Leyla’s nails were scraping against the floorboard, and she was going to move - she had to move, gun be damned. She could move fast enough only if she -

BOOM.

Blood splattered against Leyla’s cheek and she screamed.

She heard one of the guards stumble away and vomit. 

Leyla turned her head away before she could fully take in the gore. She heard Byren grunt as his orgasm ripped through his body, and Leyla could only imagine him painting Marissa’s corpse with evidence of his release. 

She was dry heaving, the panic truly setting in. She heard Byron zip up his pants, the floorboard creaking as he stood. When Leyla finally dared to look up at him, she saw that his once pristine, white shirt was doused in crimson, and his hand, along with his gun, was drenched. 

“I’m going to keep you,” Byren said wearily. “I couldn’t keep your mother. But I can keep you-”

“Like hell you are!” 

Byren’s hand, the hand that was clutching his gun, practically exploded in a mist of flesh and fingers. More loud pops rang out, and several of the guards dropped dead. Leyla caught a glimpse of a figure zooming above the rafters of the high ceiling and out of sight. 

Leyla ran, fully expecting to feel a bullet pierce through her back. The guards were busy with Kenny, firing up at the ceiling, only to drop like insects when Kenny returned the favor. 

She didn’t. When she looked back, the woman, the doe-eyed woman, was still standing still, gun trained on the spot where Leyla had been lying moments ago. Byren was curled up on the floor, clutching his ruined hand. 

Leyla only had a moment to enjoy the fresh air of the outdoors before she was swept up by Kenny. She screamed and wrapped her arms around his neck, hearing him chuckle as he latched his hook onto a nearby building and soared over the gates of the Byren estate. Leyla kept her head buried into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as the wind tickled her bloodstained cheeks, tearing away her tears before they could fall.  

Any other time, she mused, she might have enjoyed flying. 

                                                  _____________

“You’re shaking, kid,” Kenny said softly. His own bottle of beer was half empty. Leyla hadn’t even touched hers. 

The amount of rules Kenny had broken for this girl was astronomical. Internally, he was screaming at himself, cursing, for even getting involved to begin with. He’d intended to walk away when he’d dropped her off at the Byren estate. Walk away, maybe creep in for just a moment to see how it was going, and then leave and, hopefully, never speak to the girl again. He hadn’t wished ill will on her - he would have been quite content, had she been able to kill Byren like she’d planned. But he hadn’t wanted to reveal himself like that, though he was unsure as to whether or not Byren, or the guards, had even seen him or really heard him to begin with. 

Still, it had been stupid. He’d come back, and for what? Some girl? Some girl he’d been tasked to kill a year ago? Now, she was here, sitting at his kitchen table, wearing one of his shirts and a pair of pants that, back in the day, had belonged to Levi. 

“He killed my parents,” Leyla said, her words barely audible. “I met him. I...I knew him. It was him. It was fucking him-”

“You still don’t know why he sent those men after you?” 

Leyla shook her head. “I don’t know why. He’s sick, Kenny. He’s sick in the head.”

Her fingers were shaking so hard that her nails were clicking against the table. Kenny reached out and placed his hand over her own, stopping them. They sat like that for a moment, until eventually, Leyla seemed to come back into herself. She reached out and finally down some of her beer. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Fuck, Leyla-”

“I won’t be able to do my job properly until he’s dead,” Leyla replied. “He knows who I am, now. He knows that I’m alive. He’ll keep sending people after me.”

“Not unless you leave. Get the hell outta’ the Underground. Go to Trost, or hell Shiganshina,” Kenny urged. He knew it was useless. She was a stubborn bitch. “This ain’t worth it, I swear.”

“I don’t fucking know anything else, Kenny!” Leyla erupted, her voice rising to a shrill cry. “I sneak and steal. Sometimes, I kill people. That’s all I fucking know how to do!”

“You can learn.” 

“I can learn when he’s dead.”

“This ain’t even about those people anymore. It’s about your parents. You’re on a goddamn revenge trip.”

Leyla’s slap stung. Kenny was anticipating it, but he’d forgotten that the girl could put some power behind her hits. When he turned back to look at her, there were tears in her eyes and her hands were trembling yet again. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“See, that’s when I know you’re stuck. Ain’t nothing better you have to say,” Kenny ran a hand down his face. “Start livin’ in the real world, kid. There’s only one way this shit ends, and it’s with you six feet under.”

“I’m killing him. You can’t convince me otherwise. I’ll do it alone, too. You don’t have to get involved.”

“Good, cus’ I ain’t,” Kenny chuckled. “This one is on you.”

“That’s fine,” Leyla levelled a steely eyed gaze at Kenny, sinking back into her chair. She crossed her arms and stared at her bottle of alcohol. Letting out a tch noise, she pushed it across the table. “Finish this for me.”

“Can’t. I’m done for the night,” Kenny’s eyes flickered to the window. It was dark out. “You headin’ back home?”

Leyla followed his gaze to the night sky. She seemed to ponder over something for a moment, tongue flicking out to wet her lips. After a while, she made a low humming noise and said, “I feel like...I feel like I should do something thank you. I want to do something to thank you.” 

“You can thank me by not going on a suicide mission,” Leyla shot him a sharp look, and Kenny raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine, fine. I’ll drop the damn topic.”

“I saw you staring at me, when I was getting ready.” 

“I didn’t know you used to be a whore.”

“Only for a little bit, after my grandfather died.”

“The profession doesn’t suit you,” Kenny mused. Part of him wished he’d been more direct with his staring. Leyla was attractive. She was half his age, probably, but she still filled out a corset rather well, and her tits were nice. “You don’t take too kindly to men telling you what to do, it seems.”

“Who says they were the ones telling me what to do?” 

“When I fuck a whore, I like her to be responsive. When I tell her to cum, she cums. When I tell her to suck me off, she sucks me off,” Kenny sneered. “I like being in charge.” 

“So do I.”

“Then thank me this way,” Kenny murmured. “Let me take the lead.”

The noise Leyla made was intoxicating. Kenny’s dick twitched in his pants as Leyla languidly tiptoed over to him, her soft palm cradling his face. Then, she casually slipped her shirt over her head. Next, her pants, and then, her undergarments. She stood naked as the day she was born before him, shameless. 

She jerked her head towards Kenny’s dingy little bedroom, and he’d never stood so fast in his life. All thought flew from his mind and the only thing he could focus on was Leyla’s cute, round ass, her perky tits, the smooth plane of her stomach and the sparse, dark curls between her thighs. 

 When her lips met his, he was in heaven. Or something close to it. 

“Kenny,” his name rolled off her lips like sweet, sweet honey. His clothes were everywhere, on the floor, across his headboard - he didn’t care. He was tossing everything off as quickly as he could, craving raw, skin-on-skin contact with the woman currently lying beneath him. How long had it been since he’d taken someone? Years, possibly. Most definitely since before Uri’s death. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Kenny pressed his forehead against Leyla’s shoulder. She’d taken his long cock in her small, yet rough hands and was stroking fervently. He turned his head and caught her in a quick kiss. “Gonna make me bust - let me in.”

Leyla kissed him again, chuckling against his mouth. He’d prepared her well with a few pumps of his finger into her tight cunt, and now, she was ready for him - all tight and wet and hot, just like he’d remembered. No, better than he’d remembered. Leyla wasn’t like the others he’d had before. She was different. 

He couldn’t put a finger on why, she just...was. Perhaps it was the familiarity. 

“So good. So fucking good,” Kenny gasped. He curled over her, pounding her into the mattress, one hand reaching up to grab the headboard. Her legs curled around his hips and her mouth was open, her moans punctuating the wet smack of skin against skin. There was fire twisting within Kenny’s gut, a raging inferno that made him feel as if it could burn an entire forest, an entire town, to the ground. It was all rage, all pent up energy - he needed it out. He needed it inside of her, nowhere else. 

“K-Kenny,” Leyla gave a strangled gasp, reaching up to drag her nails down his back as she came up. Kenny yanked himself out and painted her thighs with his release, reaching down to squeeze the last few drops against her skin, for good measure. He collapsed by her side, and Leyla leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. 

“Just stay the night,” he breathed. “I’m not going to be able to walk you home after that shit.” 

“Didn’t know you’d offered.”

“I’m a...goddamn gentleman. And an old man, at that,” Kenny’s eyes fluttered shut, and he heard Leyla chuckle. “Don’t start takin’ advantage of my generosity, though.”

“I won’t,” Leyla’s lips found his forehead. “I...thank you. For everything you did today.” 

Kenny was already asleep. He dreamed of Kuchel, that night, like he always did. Her corpse, cold and hollow, lying in the bed. He dreamed of Uri as well, though he hadn’t gotten to witness his friends death, and he was glad for it. The dreams never got any more pleasant, any happier. Shorter, maybe, but never better. 

He wondered what Leyla dreamed about. He would have asked her the next morning, but when he awoke, she was gone.