Tumgik
#only gonna keep it in the tag for a little bit just in case others wanna talk about it and/or feel the same
charliemwrites · 10 months
Text
Woof, grrr, woof
No content warnings
Tumblr media
Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…
“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.
The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.
It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.
The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.
“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.
You shift. “Thank you.”
“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”
“Raw diet?”
“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”
You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.
“Raw it is,” you muse.
He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.
You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.
“How do you feel about pink…?”
Snort.
“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”
A long whine.
“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”
The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.
“S’what you get, dummy.”
Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.
“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”
You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.
The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”
You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.
“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.
The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.
“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”
You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.
Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.
“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”
You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.
“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”
He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.
You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.
As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.
Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.
“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”
Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.
“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”
His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.
“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.
He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.
“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”
It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.
“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”
You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.
“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”
Tumblr media
Previous | Next
Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
revehae · 3 months
Note
Could you do something from dream 00line + mark bullying, dub con and non con? 🥺
well… this is basically what you asked! i changed it up just a little bit tw // noncon, forced oral (m receiving), gangbang
“come on,” jeno groaned playfully, grip on your hair tightening. “that’s not how you used to do it.”
you whimpered weakly, the muffled sound sending a tiny tremble through jeno’s cock as he kept your warm mouth around him in spite of your protests. not that you could expect anything less from him. he was never afraid of forcing you into something you never wanted. 
jeno had never seemed afraid of anything, now that you thought about it. you still remembered the risky exploits they made you tag along on. how could you not? it was only some years ago, back when they would force you to please them in the boys’ locker room. 
haechan laughed, both at jeno’s encouragement and the miserable look on your face. he always did like seeing you suffer. “you want her to gag on your dick like a virgin?”
jeno shrugged. “call it nostalgia.”
“guys, come on,” mark said, as if he was trying to put a stop to this. but you knew better. time after time of being disappointed, getting your hopes up thinking he would make them leave you alone, you learned years ago that mark was hardly any different. “aren’t we a little too old for this now?”
haechan rolled his eyes in annoyance. “jesus christ,” he sighed. “will you ever get off your moral high horse?”
“he can do whatever he wants. he can leave, if that’s what makes him happier,” jeno said, in spite of knowing mark wouldn’t go, the same way you did. he yanked your hair harder, forcing your mouth further down onto his cock until you were damn near suffocating. “i’m not stopping until she gags.”
jaemin laughed out of nowhere, having been quietly watching the entire situation unfold. “maybe she’s had practice since then, jeno.”
“you mean, our little slut has been whoring herself out to other guys?” haechan chimed in, snickering. the thought amused him. no guys used to ever come near you, like you were the most unfuckable thing in the world. you were obscure and unnoticed. 
jeno felt you pushing at his thighs like you used to do when you desperately needed to come up for air. “in that case, what’s the fucking problem? why are you being so difficult?”
your eyes winced closed when jeno slapped your cheek, the burn of his palm sizzling on the side of your face as you jolted back. your eyes watered, and before you could bother to recover, jeno was forcing his cock back inside your throat, thrusting his hips. 
that was when you finally and inadvertently gave him what he wanted, gagging around his cock and scraping at his thighs for mercy that he wouldn’t give you, keeping your mouth on him by your hair. 
“that’s it, babe,” jeno told you, looking down at you with a blend of scorn and amusement. “choke on it just like that.”
mark shook his head in disapproval, arms crossed. “jeno, dude. you’re gonna hurt the poor girl.”
jaemin crouched down beside you when jeno pulled out of your sore throat, having finally gotten what he wanted. “don’t be such a prude, mark. she can take it,” jaemin replied, looking at you almost dotingly. he pressed two of his fingers into the corners of your lips and forced them into a smile. “isn’t that right, baby?”
you shook your head, backing away from them until you crashed backwards into the side of the hotel mattress. when you started to crawl towards the door, haechan kicked your ass with his shoe, making you slump onto the floor for all of two seconds before you scurried onto your feet.
and nearly tripping over them, you made a beeline for the door. the same door mark was near, as if he was toying with the idea of turning around and heading out too. but rather than let you go, he gripped your arm. 
your eyes were stinging. you glanced up at him desperately, hoping that maybe he would show some remorse. “please. you said you were sorry. you promised.”
it’s not right, mark told himself, swallowing as he looked at the fear in your stare. after graduating, he told himself that he would be a better man and not a stupid boy.
and that was why on the last day of school, he took it upon himself to apologize for everything the four of them had done to you that senior year. he promised that he never meant for things to go so far, that he meant every word of what he told you, that he regretted everything he had done to hurt you. 
and even now mark wanted to make them stop, he really did. but that desire was outweighed by the one to feel you again, to lose himself in the heat of you as his thrusts became more and more restless. 
and a moment or three later, that was exactly what he was doing, all the while holding your smaller body down as his eyes fluttered closed, hypnotized by the sweet squeeze of your vice-like cunt. he became increasingly feverish with every passing second, unable to hear the thoughts that told him to be gentle. 
jaemin nudged haechan playfully. “you know, this is exactly how i remember it.”
“ah,” haechan replied with a pleasant sigh, a little smile on his lips as he watched mark fuck you mindlessly. “some things never change.”
530 notes · View notes
cowboykento · 6 months
Text
cw: somno, brief/vague mention of prior consent, but tagged as dub con just in case. i wrote this half asleep and high sorry if there’s typos
Tumblr media
cowboy!nanami wakes up with a problem one morning. specifically, he’s so, painfully hard, his dick pressing against your ass. your back is pressed against his chest, your slow, steady breathing soft as you sleep peacefully.
fuck, he’s so hard and the pressure of your body against his is doing things to his head—distracting him, serving only to turn him on more. his arms are wrapped around you, his hands resting under your shirt. he thinks it would be so easy to just move his hands up to grope your tits. god, if he could just pinch your nipple…
his desires are cut off by you, shifting in his arms. his eyes roll back in his head when your ass presses harder against his erection. a groan slips from his lips that he can only try to quiet.
he doesn’t want to wake you up just to take care of his problem, but he just can’t bring himself to let go of you.
but fuck, he needs to cum. he needs you.
cowboy!nanami has always prided himself on being a gentleman. someone people could trust, rely on, love. and he’s always been that to you.
but right now, he thinks of every time you’ve ever looked up at him through your lashes, telling him he could do whatever he wanted to you… it was too much.
he reached his hand up to palm one of your tits, rolling the fat in his hand greedily. he can’t help his hips as they shallowly rut against you.
you let out a soft sigh, but continue dreaming as kento lets himself get a little more carried away.
his other hand sneaks down the front of your body, to the waistband of your panties. of course you hadn’t worn anything but a t-shirt and panties to bed—it was like you were asking him to fuck you.
his finger finds your clit and he gives it a soft pinch, just enough for your body to squirm against him. fuck, he thinks, he just needs to fuck you right now.
he shuffles out of his boxers, his cock aching and flushed from how desperate you made him.
he pulls your panties to the side and rubs his cock against your folds, moaning at how wet you were. he just lazily thrusts against you like that for a while, his hand gripping your waist and keeping you still, occasionally reaching over to rub your clit.
“mm,” you moan out softy, eyes barely fluttering open. “ken, wha-“
“shh, baby, shh, just let me use you. please, need you so bad, darlin’, you have no idea,” he groans, his voice coming from a well of desperation within him.
you smile and shuffle back against him, grinding yourself against his cock.
“fuck, princess, just go back to sleep, let me use you for a bit. such a perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
“put it in, ken,” you whisper, and he’s sure his heart is exploding with love for you.
“whatever my baby wants,” he replies, his tip catching against your entrance.
slow, deep thrusts have kento groaning deep in your ear as you teeter on consciousness. he swears your pussy it’s just sucking him in, making it nearly impossible to leave your snug walls.
“‘m so close, darlin’, so close. gonna cum right in your pussy, keep you stuffed nice and full so we can go back to sleep. ya want that, baby?”
only a small whimper comes from you in response, and kento takes it as his permission to wreck your cunt.
his thrusts become a little faster, a little sloppier as he approaches his orgasm. his mind is clouded with thoughts of you, you, you.
he feels the coil in his tummy wind tighter and tighter, becoming so taught that it has no choice but to snap. kento cums with a loud groan of your name as he fucks himself through it, pushing his thick load into your pussy.
his hips slow down as his cock softens, a warm blanket of contentment resting over both of you.
kento kisses the back of your neck reverently, a silent thank you for trusting him enough to let him use your body like that.
like he promised, he keeps his dick in you, keeping you stuffed full of him.
his lips press against the shell of your ear, “i’ll return the favor when we wake up, darlin’. let you feel good, like you deserve.”
the aching need and desire he’d felt gone, and replaced with something much more gentle and tender. he presses a few more kisses along your neck before drifting off to sleep with you.
Tumblr media
cowboy!kento masterlist
sfw cowboy!kento masterlist
595 notes · View notes
jiyansthesis · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LEON KENNEDY (post-re4) x reader
summary — you and leon never thought what would lead to the two of you fucking would be a surprise zombie and an aphrodisiac
note — a little something i had in the drafts for a while. i was gonna post it when re4make came out but i totally forgot. might as well post it while im getting traction on my other leon post ^^
tags — smut, aphrodisiac, basically in public, rough, overstimulation, fem bodied reader, fem implied pet names
i am not responsible for any minors that interact + nsfw below the cut
not proofread
Tumblr media
"we're gonna get our asses kicked," you groaned, focusing on the scope of your gun which you used to survey your surroundings.
"no, you're gonna get your ass kicked. i can hold my own," leon shot back, trailing ahead of you.
there was a red wash over the two of you as you ran down the hallway, attempting to look for some vials before they get destroyed by the zombies lurking around.
"you don't happen to know where these serums are, do you?" you questioned, a zombie coming out the shadows only for you to quickly aim and fire your gun at its head, it immediately flying backwards to land lifelessly on the floor. "this is like some bad game of whack-a-mole. except without the hammer. and the moles are zombies. and we could possibly die. i'm getting tired of it."
"do you ever stop talking?" he opened a door, revealing a room with cabinets of liquids and something that looked like a chamber with a glass window.
"adding a bit of fun into this mission, leon. i can't just walk around shooting zombies and not have something to say."
he grunted, and went over to the cabinets, grabbing a container of blue liquid.
"this is it. i'll get all of these, you keep watch." you nodded in acknowledgement, considering the fact that leon was your superior.
you peered out the hallway you had come from, saw that it was clear, and shut the door, locking it.
then you decided to go into the connecting room, just in case something was in there.
the red emergency light was still messing with your eyes, and so you turned on your flashlight, scanning the room.
there were more bottles of substances. but it didn't look like the blue ones leon was getting. these ones were a reddish-pink, and had a certain glow to them. you stepped closer to it to examine it, but you swung around as soon as you heard a growl. you unsheathed the dagger around your waist.
the blade lodged in the zombie's throat, your reaction time saving you as usual. it crumpled over, but bumped into the display, causing the cases to break.
you thought it was a liquid, but it was like you could see the cloud of fumes rise from the broken vials. quickly you put a hand over your mouth and nose and ran out the room, but not before you caught a whiff of the strangely sweet, almost sugary flower smell.
you shut the heavy doors behind you, and let out a gasp of air. leon looked towards you, hurrying over as you fell to your knees.
"hey, you alright? what happened?" he held onto your arms, lifting you up and placing you in an office chair.
"th-there was a zombie. i killed it and it. . . it bumped into these flasks of pink stuff." your hands went to wrap around your stomach, a cramp suddenly appearing.
"pink stuff?" he asked
"yeah," you grimaced with pain. "there was this thing that came out of the broken tubes. it was like a gas or something."
"and how are you feeling right now?"
you felt immensely uncomfortable. there was a cramp in your lower abdomen and it felt like something was dripping out of you. your legs squirmed, not liking the feeling of your wet panties.
"i can-can't explain it." you stammered out. you think you know what were in those things, but you didn't want to make it awkward for you and leon. of course, you've known him since raccoon city, and congratulated him when he came back with the president's daughter. but you knew damn well you guys weren't this close.
even if you desperately wished you were.
"it hurts there?" he gestured to your hand over your abdomen, you nodded.
"it might've been something toxic." he glanced around the room at all the computers, lucky enough to find one that was unlocked.
you heard him type away as you shut your eyes. the pain was becoming excruciating, and you didn't know why you felt your crotch throbbing.
not only that, but your thoughts were bunching up, and you couldn't think straight. what were you here for again?
"hey, i think i know what it is." you felt him nudge you. "but you might not like it."
"i think i know what it is too. doesn't take much thinking to find out." you winced as you shifted in your seat.
he raised an eyebrow. "you know?"
"it's obviously an aphrodisiac. there's no other explanation." you slurred out.
"well, it's not a normal one. normal ones wear off with time, but this one. . . you need something for it to wear off. or you might die."
"die!?" you exclaimed, ignoring the pain of you suddenly standing upright. this definitely cleared your mind. "for fucks sake, leon. i didn't want to die from a fucking drug today!"
he let out a breath of air. "it's easily fixable. but i need you to trust me." his voice got a bit more husky.
"i always trust you, leon." you assured him. he hesitated, and slowly lowered you back down on the seat.
his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your tactical pants. "may i?" he looked up to you. never in a million years would you have thought you'd have leon kennedy under you.
you could already tell what had to be done for you to get rid of this feeling, and you gave him the okay. well, at least you get to have one of your fantasies out the way while also avoiding death from aphrodisiac.
he pulled down your pants, quickly followed by your underwear.
"didn't think to tell me about what was happening down here?" he smirked. "you're so wet."
you whined at the cold air, and urged him to hurry up and stop teasing you.
he followed your request, and instead of inching in his fingers like you'd expected, he immediately latched onto your dripping cunt, and you arched your back.
"leon, fuck!" you moaned out, a hand immediately going to grab a handful of his hair.
he hummed in amusement, leading you to clench your thighs around his head. leon quickly moved his hands to grab your plush thighs and spread them apart, locking them in place no matter how hard you tried to escape it.
it was like he wasn't even thinking about the aphrodisiac. it was all for his and your pleasure, rather than as an extremely awkward and embarrassing task that had to be done. or he was just too good at the job at hand.
every stroke of his tongue had your legs shaking, and you pulled at his hair every time he sucked on your clit too hard. it felt like a few minutes before you felt the buildup of something in your stomach, quickly overshadowing the pain you had previously felt.
"leon, m' gonna-"
his hands left your legs and went straight to your pussy. "make a mess for me, baby," he said as your hips bucked up violently and you let out what was almost a scream.
you panted, and you thought that at this point you'd be satisfied, the pain would be gone, and the two of you could put this all behind you and go on your merry way.
but you were wrong. it was like it got even worse.
your thoughts were scrambled, and all you could think about was the bulge in his pants. and it definitely wasn't his gun.
"why'd you have to do. . . all that?" you stammered out. you also realized he called you baby. your cheeks became even hotter.
"can't get my gloves dirty. and i wanted a taste." he winked. "are you feeling better?"
you shook your head, involuntarily grinding against the seat. maybe if you imagined it was his thigh. . . you wouldn't have to ask him to fuck you senseless. you were already shameless enough, with the fact he had just finished eating you out like his final supper, and the effects of the aphrodisiac were not helping.
just the sound of his voice and his smell was enough to send you into a frenzy.
"do you need some more help?" he began unbuckling his pants.
"yes, need mo' help," you whined. you never thought what would get you into leon s. kennedy's pants would have to be a mystery sex drug in a science lab. if you knew, maybe you would've done this way beforehand.
you almost drooled at how big he was. you would've put your lips right around him at that moment, but he was already lining himself up with you entrance.
"you ready, princess?"
"jus' hurry up," you moved your hips closer to him, sliding the tip inside which caused you to whimper. deciding not to let you suffer any longer, he slammed the rest of his throbbing cock inside of you. with every thrust he did, you were a whining, blabbering mess.
"does that feel good?" he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you could tell that the effects of the drug were making you more sensitive.
"s' good leon," you threw your arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss, which he quickly reciprocated. he was biting on your lips, his tongue occasionally slipping through your lips.
"i fucking love the sounds you make," he got out once the two of you broke away for air. it was like he was feral and had the aphrodisiac himself, pounding into you without giving you time to breathe.
"fuck, leon, don't stop," you could feel tears streaming down your face as your mouth gaped wide open to let out all your noises.
no doubt you were attracting monsters, but that didn't matter when you had this hot man you've been pinning for for years making you dumb on his cock.
he admired the way he had you already clawing for whatever you could grab a hold on, which was his back, and the look that you gave him.
he'd wanted to fuck you for so long, although that developed from him falling in love after the events in raccoon city. you'd kept him sane, believe it or not.
thank god he had this reason to finally have you under him.
"you gonna cum for me, yeah?" he began relentlessly hitting your g-spot, which had you screaming. he left open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
you didn't answer. or well, you couldn't with how he practically fucked the breath out of you.
not receiving an answer, he quickly took you out the chair and placed you on top of the table. you whined as he pulled out, but were quickly shut up by him thrusting inside of you again.
and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, the new angle caused him to almost brush up against your cervix. his hand made its way to your tummy and pressed down on the slight bump, making your hands fly up to cover your mouth.
"hey, pretty girl. i want to hear everything." he persuaded you to place your hands to stabilize yourself on the office desk.
"i-mm, i think i'm gonna make a mess," you warned.
"you gonna come for me? good girl," he praised, and with those words he hungrily pressed his lips to yours, devouring your sounds of ecstasy as you convulsed with your climax.
you started feeling overstimulated, the pain and sensitivity mixing in with the pleasure.
"le-leon, jus' cum in me," you pleaded, feeling your third climax coming already. maybe it was because you were practically intoxicated, or it was because you haven't had sex in so long, but you were almost self-conscious about how short of a time it took for you to cum.
"yeah? you want me to fill you up baby? do i make you feel too good?" a pool of your cum was pooling on the desk.
"yes! wan' you to, wan' you to," you trailed off as he grunted and let out a few soft, low moans, and you felt a warmth seep inside of you.
slowly he pulled out, which still had you twitch, and he looked almost apologetic about that. he searched the place for something to clean you up with, before ripping a piece off an abandoned lab coat, and slowly wiping you up with it. the table on the other hand, required the whole coat to wipe up.
he helped you put your pants back on as you regained and put your thoughts back in order.
"holy shit, we're at least twenty minutes late from meeting up at the extraction point," you checked the watch on your wrist. the two of you scurry to grab all your things as well as what you came here for, and went on your out the building. leon then called chris, who was pissed about the time delay.
as you left, it was strangely silent, as if the two of you had scared the monsters away rather than attract them.
"never thought that'd ever happen," you admitted as the two of you made it outside and to the rendezvous.
"never thought i'd fuck you during a mission in the middle of nowhere." he agreed. "how about dinner later, pretty girl?"
"isn't it a bit late for that?"
"it's never too late to take a lady like you on a fancy date. you deserve it." he shouted as the wind from a helicopter overtook your hearing.
"hmm, i'll think about it!" you grinned, saluting. "nice work out there."
"if that was my real job, i'd be doing it all the time."
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
voxisdaddy · 5 months
Text
Cowboy Sweetness
Tumblr media
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Pairing: Striker x Reader
Type: Headcanons | Fluff
C/TW: none other than the fact that it's kind of long cuz I love Soft and Fluffy Striker so much <3
In which Striker is soft with Reader ♥︎
omg my baby girl Striker ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა thank you for the request @/newleaf92 (tag bc of an oopsie) REPOST BC LAST ONE GOT SHADOWBANNED
Tumblr media
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Striker is not a soft guy, that's just a fact. He's ruthless, cruel, arrogant, prideful, and rough. And he intends to stay that way-not that he thought he could be anything else. Until you came along.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Things were understandably slow at the beginning of your relationship. These feelings and this type of relationship was very new to him. On top of that, he cared about you a lot so he was determined not to fuck up at some point. But even at the beginning, when he seemed repulsed by affectionate acts and words, he was still soft. He was aware of this because again, he cared about you a lot and knew he didn't wanna fuck up-or "fumble it" as some people nowadays say. So he tried to show subtly that he cares about you as his partner.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which was by holding doors open for you, cleaning himself up a bit before visiting you, and when walking with you his tail would be rounding you from behind-a subtle way to keep you close and protected. He is a wanted man after all.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He still does those things even now, as long as you've been together by now and as more comfortable he is being affectionate and sweet with you-but theirs so much more now.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When he teaches you to ride Bombproof, if anyones near and you're wearing something with a skirt, he'll take off his hat to cover your behind as you mound or get off Bombproof. And the entire time he's teaching you, he's got a hand on both you and the horse. Gotta keep ya steady and that won't be possible unless Bombproof is also steady. Afterwards, only if you're alone, he' help you off Bombproof. He actually feels quite prideful of it. Look at him, helping his partner off Bombproof with his hands firmly on your waist. If you thank him with a kiss on the cheek he's gonna be smirking all proudly.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Loves it when you lay on his chest. You could be snuggled up on the couch or the bed, doesn't matter, as long as you're both comfy he needs you to be laying your head on his chest. It makes him feel like he's your protector and that you need him. Both is true.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He takes care of ya when you're sick. Will sleep on the couch until you're 100% better. He can't risk getting sick due to his job so unfortunately you'll be sleeping apart for several days. It bothers him more than he'd ever admit. He didn't know when it happened but at some point he grew used to sleeping with you next to him every night and kind of relies on it to sleep good.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Which takes us to when he's out on a job. His time away from home varies from job to job. Some hits can be done and over with over a course of a day, others can take several days-weeks even.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It's hard on both of you, but you both hang onto little things to keep the other close, theoretically speaking. He's very careful about it though because the last thing he wants is the wrong people finding out about you. Being with him already puts you at risk, like it or not, you guys need to be a secret-he insists.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Most dates are private. For safety reasons and plus come on, some couple alone time is always good. Some dates he'll take you to a place he found while out a job. It's usually some place secluded. He always makes sure to check around before bringing you there however, just in case theirs any dangers lingering about that he should deal with-or for your sake, avoid all together.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His favourite dates are when he can just relax with you. Sure you guys can do that at home, but the change of scenery is nice sometimes. His favourite date so far is when you guys went to a large tree and just sat underneath it. Usually you always lean on him when you cuddle and lay together, but that time he was the one on you. His head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his white, rough hair. His hat he had tipped over his head to hide eye tired eyes from you.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Striker~ You're falling asleep."
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I'm relaxin my eyes, darlin'. Ever hearda relaxing?"
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He fell asleep.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh well. I recommend not teasing him about it later because he will make sure you don't comb your fingers through his hair again for a very long time.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He needs the sleep though. He works on his own schedule, which isn't bad per say, but his sleep schedules all over the place. Sometimes he'll sleep only a few short hours and sometimes it'll be like 14 hours. I'm not kidding. He does make an effort for you though because you're his darlin'! Especially since he's gotten to the point where he needs you there to sleep good.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ So you let him sleep for a little while. Not too long-don't wanna ruin his sleep schedule even more.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I love soft striker so much, I always think about holding his hand and that's it. Just holding it. He'll let you, usually sitting behind you so you don't have to see his flushed face.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Panics when you cry. He'll immediately rush to you and try his best to sooth you. It was very awkward when it first happened, it still is awkward but it's kind of different now. I don't know how to explain it but an improvement is I guess what we'll call it.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Even if you're the one fussing over him when he comes home injured, once he notices you getting teary eyed, he's quickly apologizing. What for? Who knows but stop crying you're freaking him out :(
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like Striker's the type of guy to have a special way of saying I love you to you. He isn't a man of words so all his affections are done via action. I can think of a couple ways he'd say 'I love you'. Got the usual gentle hand squeezes, thigh squeezes, ect,. Sometimes they get...sweeter though. A sweet kiss on the lips-not a peck or heated kiss with the intent to go further. Just a sweet kiss then gazing into your eyes before he goes off to do whatever it is Striker does lol 💖
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The first time he said it though? Weirdly enough was after an argument. He asked you to get him some water before he left on a hit and you came out with a cup of ice and said "wait". He would've been annoyed-and he was for a second-but then he started chuckling and pulled you in for a hug. "I love ya, darlin'!"
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Random soft Striker moment: you were baking and Striker was being oh so helpful (he wasn't, he was just hanging around to be near you) leaned in close to press a kiss to your head.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Come on-if he did that to me I'd instantly be so in love like omg ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა I already am in love but like I'd fall so hard I'd have no choice but to dig
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ In my head, Striker and his s/o is the Grumpy x Sunshine ship trope-aka my favourite ship trope ♡
Tumblr media
The request was asking for Striker being soft with that one person but due to an error and a fumble on my keyboard, it published way too early. Sorry about that
૮꒰ づ˶◡﹏◡˶꒱აづ
205 notes · View notes
djarrex · 6 months
Text
burning hot
Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball
ao3 | masterlist
The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.
It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)
Tumblr media
Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.
“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach. 
As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex. 
You blink.
You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy. 
Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.
He remembers you.
You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.
When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment. 
The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.
Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.
It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all. 
You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again. 
And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.
You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.
“Remember me?” 
His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.
You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.
He hums.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.
Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”
The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.
“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”
You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”
“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”
It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.
He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”
Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”
Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”
“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”
The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you. 
“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”
You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”
He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”
Impatient. 
But, honestly, so are you.
You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners. 
You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.
“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly. 
“Tell me.”
He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”
You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient. 
“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”
Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features. 
“Get your clothes off. Now.”
You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.
“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.
“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.” 
“Howzer…”
“Hang on to me.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.
“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”
“Promise.”
With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead. 
Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that. 
Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”
When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.
“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth. 
The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.
The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.
“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”
You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin. 
Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror. 
“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”
Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”
-
It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them. 
You’re all on the same side here. 
You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.
Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place. 
You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself. 
When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties. 
Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.
Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job. 
You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.
“Chow time!” 
A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball. 
With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.
“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”
“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”
The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.
“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”
You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.” 
It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”
You freeze.
“...Relationship?”
Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”
“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes. 
“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”
You almost choke on the bite. “What?”
“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”
You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure. 
“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”
“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”
You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”
A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later. 
“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”
You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.
“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”
Something clicks then. 
You’ve developed a crush on Fireball. 
It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well. 
You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.
“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”
The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.
“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”
You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.
“Say it, beautiful.”
You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.
“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. 
And you want him to let loose.
“Stand up.” 
Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.
Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.
“Turn around.”
You oblige, awaiting further guidance. 
“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”
“Oh yeah?”
He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin. 
“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”
Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates. 
“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”
The question alone makes you whimper. 
“N–no. Not yet.”
He only hums at that.
“Fireball – touch me, please.”
He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.
“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”
You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.
“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”
His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief. 
He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more. 
“Fireball, please, more.”
“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds. 
You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”
He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor. 
“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”
Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.
“Fuck me, then.”
He hums.
You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation. 
He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness. 
“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”
You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath. 
“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”
He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.
“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”
You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.
“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax. 
“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”
“Fuck, okay.”
Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable. 
Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.
Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.
“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.
Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.
“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”
“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.” 
The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.
-
It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.
Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.
“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”
“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”
You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”
Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours. 
“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”
You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised. 
You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself. 
And Howzer noticed. 
“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”
You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours. 
“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.” 
His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.
“Now who did this?”
Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”
Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?  
He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.  
“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”
Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had. 
“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”
The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else. 
Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”
The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear. 
Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire. 
Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.
He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”
But he's not finished questioning you yet.
“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.
“Nemec?”
No.
“Fireball?”
When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.
“Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?” 
Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled. 
“Howzer, please.” 
Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”
When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”
“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”
“You're sure?”
“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly. 
Howzer raises an intrigued brow.
You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.
“I let Fireball cum inside of me.” 
“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”
“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”
Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less. 
He shakes his head.
“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”
It was risky – but exciting.
You bite your lip at the memory.
“I know.”
“When was this?”
“About an hour ago.”
Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?” 
You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”
Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.
Your pussy flutters at that idea.
You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side. 
“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share. 
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”
“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”
Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.
“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”
Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holders and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.
And you think they just might. 
Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.
“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”
Our girl. 
You could get used to this.
“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”
You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall. 
His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.
“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”
Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?” 
Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you. 
“Good.” 
With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.
He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.
That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first. 
“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.
The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more. 
“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”
He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”
You’re not in charge here. You never were.
“...Please.”
Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”
He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release. 
“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”
He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.
“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”
Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though. 
Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral. 
You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.” 
Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes. 
Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”
You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”
“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”
“Good.”
With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.
“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size. 
Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself. 
You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand. 
You could gush from the sight alone.
“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.
Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet. 
“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”
“Fuck, Fireball–”
“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”
“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”
You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking. 
“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”
You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.
“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”
“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”
“...Yes, sir.”
Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet. 
“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”
You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions. 
“Cum. Now.”
You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.
“You okay, beautiful?”
His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins. 
You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression. 
You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”
Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions. 
“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”
“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”
Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.
“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.” 
You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”
He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”
“Have me now, Howzer.”
“You sure?”
“Please. I want you.”
“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”
Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.
Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours. 
“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”
“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”
Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.
A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.
“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”
Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it phase his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts. 
“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”
Both men once again widen their eyes.
“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”
Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle. 
“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”
“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan. 
Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.
Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead. 
Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core. 
“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there. 
Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.
“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.” 
Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.
“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”
Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”
When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball. 
It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release. 
Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated. 
Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up. 
“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”
“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.
“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”
You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.” 
Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth. 
“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”
You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing. 
“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”
Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.
Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”
Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”
Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”
You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way. 
But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails. 
And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships. 
Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.
That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.
“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”
252 notes · View notes
goddessofroyalty · 8 months
Text
So this was based on a silly joke I have in my head about hormonal birth control not working for omega!Sanji for (spoilers) reasons and him and Zoro then ending up with 3 kids on the pirate journey because they keep breaking condoms.
Anyway this is just them finally making it back to the Baratie and having to face up to Zeff about it (from Zeff’s POV)
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
Tags: omegaverse, mpreg
---------
Zeff will admit he is slightly surprised at the swell in Sanji’s stomach when he showed up again as part of what seems to be the new Pirate King and crew’s Victory Tour.
It’s not that Eggplant had given him no indication of it – he had been getting more and more jittery every damn time he’d gotten in touch as the Strawhats made their various stops before reaching the Baratie. Saying how some things had happened during his travels and that he’d needed to talk to Zeff about them in person. But Zeff had assumed it was to do with his damnable family. Not that his woman-obsessed omega son had gone and got himself knocked up. By an alpha, going by the new layer of scent clinging on top of the one he remembers to be Sanji’s.
And, because wonder’s don’t fucking cease, they’ve only just gotten through their tearful hug when a little green-haired girl comes running over. Clinging to Eggplants leg and staring up at Zeff with curious, familiar, blue eyes.
“I thought you were staying on the ship Princess?” Eggplant says, brushing a hand through her hair. And Zeff is equally sure that actually Sanji told her to stay on the ship as he is that his boy was as much a pushover to his daughter as he had been any woman who had stepped foot into the Baratie before he left.
“You know she wasn’t gonna’ as soon as she found out this was your old home.” And there was the newly minted World’s Greatest Swordsman and apparently sire to Zeff’s grandkids walking in like it had been his home as well and not the place he had gotten nearly cut in half by the former owner of the title.
And, fucks sake, there was another little one resting on his hips as he does it with that same matching green hair.
“I do remember teaching you about the importance of making them wrap it,” Zeff grumbles, because going by the age of the older one the two it hadn’t been all that long after Sanji left that he had gotten himself knocked up. “I know you said you weren’t planning on getting with any alphas but I know you were still listening.”
Eggplant goes red at it before glaring at Roronoa who gives a grin back that is entirely too filthy and leaves Zeff sure that he doesn’t actually want to know.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Zeff asks more to move the topic away from his kid’s sex life before he finds out more about it than he wants to.
They had been exchanging letters and calls on and off the whole time and never once had Eggplant mentioned that he was going to be or had become a granddad in any of them.
“I did try to but I couldn’t say anything too direct in case it got intercepted,” Sanji explains, resting a protective hand over his middle while the other curls around the girl at his side.
It makes some degree of sense. Best way to keep the two, soon to be three, pups from being a target is to have nobody know they exist in the first place.
Maybe Zeff should have guessed something like this was up when Sanji had asked him how he had dealt with the stress of raising a kid in the dangerous world they lived in. But he had just assumed his boy had finally matured enough to realize how much of an antagonistic dumbass he had been at times.
“I did want to tell you though,” Sanji continues, his voice guilty.  
Roronoa has moved close to his mate’s side, not touching though. Which is probably what Sanji actually wants – always had been a bit funny about any too direct an offer of comfort. Something Zeff’s probably as much to blame for as anything else in his life.
“You have no idea how many times I nearly did.”
“Probably for the best you didn’t,” Zeff says because he can’t have his kid feeling guilty for doing the smart thing. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to keep away if you did.”
Neither he nor his ship these days are made for the journey to the Grand Line. And it wouldn’t have been good for Sanji or the rest of the crew of his to have an old pirate getting underfoot while they were making names for themselves on history’s pages.
“Hell, I’m gonna’ struggle letting you sail off with my grandkids with you now. You better come visit more than you have been!” He doesn’t actually hold it against them and damn well know the reason why this is the first time he’s seen them since Sanji left to join a pirate crew. But he still missed years of his grandkids lives as a result and they had better make up for it.
220 notes · View notes
jhoneybees · 5 months
Text
Special gift
Tumblr media
Hello Hello! I'm back dollies :) Here's a cute little fic! It's been a while since I've posted a fic so I do apologise😬 and with the desire part 2 I am writing it! but I'm gonna be shelving that for a bit because I'm not in that thirsty mood at the moment lol I've been craving some sweet fluffy Elvis! Enjoy!
Tags: @elvisalltheway101 my doll!
Characters: Highschool 50s!Elvis X reader
Warnings/triggers: I'd say nothing but if you spot something, please comment!
_____________________________________________
Gosh. His eyes, the waves of deep blue rippling into that icy blue around those dark pupils, increasing and decreasing in size. You really could get lost in them, you have to be careful though, you wouldn't want to fall in love…would you?
Well for your case, yes. You're in love, you're madly in love with a pretty boy. With how he skillfully combs back his hair into a duck tail and how his bottom lip juts out just a bit when he's deep in concentration, you're just melting at just the thought of him, of Elvis Presley.
He's everything you're looking for in a man, a future husband you hope and dream. He’s kind, caring, funny, generous, courteous, and humble. It goes on and on and on and you wouldn’t be panting by the endless list at all because you'll be too busy listing off every praise in the universe. Your mind is just filled with everything Elvis, in every single nook and cranny.
_____________________________________________
Closing the locker door with a tinny slam, your eyes drift to the boy of your dreams. Just standing there with nobody accompanying him, you take the chance to admire him, admiring how his ever growing chest hairs peek out from behind his white short sleeved button up, his lean biceps fill out those sleeves so nicely and his simple black slacks just had to make you hitch a breath, they compliment his long legs so well.
You really do dream of approaching Elvis someday, to finally confess your love that you've been bottling up ever since the first day you saw him but you're shy, so shy that you'd be a shaking leaf just asking a teacher for directions to the art classroom and not only that, you're scared of rejection, you know everyone else is too but it still doesn't change your mind to have the courage to walk up to Elvis Presley and blurt out the three words.
As you sigh and grip your books closer to your chest in longing, his eyes pierce into yours. You didn't know he could stop time because the brief moment of the both of you staring feels like the bustling crowds around you just freeze.
Trying to take an even deep breath, you swallow thickly as he strides towards you. Your wrists ache at the growing pressure against the edges of the books but you don't care because all you're thinking is if your knees are about to collapse at the blessing of seeing Elvis' shy but also charming grin.
“You're Y/n, right?” he asks.
You nod quietly and he breathes out a shy chuckle, stuffing his hand into his pocket, he nods back and you're guessing, out of nervous habit, he scratches the back of his neck.
“I-I’m Elvis…and uh- This m-m-might sound crazy but uh- I've seen you around these places and thought you're real pretty” he states.
He thought you're pretty? No. Real pretty? Oh your dreams must be having a real good time, you can't bring yourself to believe that, he couldn't possibly think that, he's got so many other girls who are far prettier than you that he could choose from, right?
“And uh- ah can't keep my head f’om shuttin’ up to ask ya if ya..uh.. w-w-wanted to go on a date with me?” his eyebrows raise just the slightest bit.
A date?! You? He’s asking you on a date? You swear, you're hearing wedding bells in your head and not the ones from the church a few blocks down that you'd willingly get married in if he asked you to or you're preferred choice, wanted to.
This can't be real, right?
“Y-you don't gotta say yes if ya don't wanna but just thought ah’d better take someone like you out before I regret myself”
He stammers with his head lowering towards his chest and rubbing the back of his neck with a small crooked smile.
Your overly religious parents would scold you for using his name in vain but…
Oh God
Gulping again for- you think, the 20th time. You clutch your books even tighter than before, fully aware that it would definitely leave red marks on your skin. Trying your best to not appear overly shy, you grip at that ounce of courage and give Elvis a small smile.
You've been dreaming of this.
“I-I’d love to”
_____________________________________________
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH. MY. GOSH.
You're going on a date with Elvis Presley…
You're going on a date with Elvis Presley!
As you close your bedroom door and plop your books down on your desk, you gasp softly in your hands in absolute shock. How did you land on such luck? Or whatever it is. Turning yourself around, you sit at the end of bed and dig your face deeper into your hands.
Trying to process your thoughts but of course, all you could ‘process’ is the image of Elvis, the guy that walked up to you. The boy who asked you on a date!
“Ah!!” You squeal, slamming yourself back on the bed, kicking your feet in the air with so much excitement.
Your hands dragging down your face don't do anything to your big smile, you're just amazed, in awe, so in love.
Then a thought comes into your head. What are you gonna give to Elvis as a token of appreciation?
Others might not think of anything like that but to you, it feels necessary. Elvis is taking time out of his day to take you out so why wouldn't you give him something for such a kind gesture?
_____________________________________________
“Thank you…”
You smile as Elvis helps you out of the car, your small hands held by his large ones, you feel calluses on his fingertips from what you know and saw, playing his guitar during lunch breaks and occasionally at the local park on weekends. Their firmness slightly nudges at the back of your hand, the warmth just engulfing your hand cosily. You couldn't be more satisfied at just the slightest touch from him.
Then as he leads you down the wide dirt and grassy track, you grip your knuckles together.
He didn't tell you where you were both going in Riverside Park for this date and as much as you adore and love Elvis, you're a little concerned but as you two near the riverbank and Elvis turns to you with a sweet boyish smile on his face. Your concerns wash away instantly.
“M’sorry this date ain't shiny and lavish…” he chuckles nervously.
“No, this is lovely, Elvis” you say softly, returning a smile.
You wouldn’t have this date any other way, it’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. Getting to sit beside the river with him, being in each other’s company, it’s perfect to you.
You have seen him with other girls at school before and when you saw how much of a gentleman he was to them just makes your heart stab itself with an arrow and you thought you know every kind gesture he does but he’s full of surprises because when he started taking off his jacket and laying it down on the grass, he had the audacity to melt your heart for the 100th time in the span of just 2 weeks.
“Don’t wanna get your pretty skirt dirty”
Of course with that little grin that you have memorised every detail from.
He is just…everything.
The conversation just flows so effortlessly and after some time it begins to fizzle out and you both sit in pleasant silence, you look out at the slow moving, crisp water and when you don’t expect it you both breathe in the fresh air at the same time. Whipping your heads around and bursting into a fit of giggles.
You want to spend your life with him.
Your mind runs with thoughts of how lovely this simple date is and when you turn to look at Elvis’ face, you accidentally let out a tiny gasp which you hope Elvis didn’t hear but of course he did. Turning to look at you with a slow growing smile and piercing blue eyes that ping through into your heart. You wouldn’t be surprised if he started laughing at your poor little heart thumping a thousand miles per hour.
Panting so much that its cheeks would flush a brighter red than it already is.
“Enjoyin’ yer time?” he asks with raised eyebrows, creating those cute little wrinkles on his forehead.
You nod with a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice how your cheeks grow a bit pink, almost like the same colour as his socks that are slightly exposed under his brown slacks.
He looks back at the water and you do the same. After a little while, you remember the thing you made for him. Quietly moving your arm, you dig in your skirt pocket and pull out a beaded bracelet with a colour scheme that you hope Elvis would like. Baby blue and gold. Finishing off with a white bead in the middle with a little gold encrusted heart on it.
“Um..Elvis?”
Your heart sighs at how he softly hums in response, turning to look at you with slow wandering eyes.
“Yeah?”
Holding in your breath, you close your eyes for a brief moment. You really do hope he’ll like it, you did work very hard on this little bracelet but if you had to be honest, you wouldn’t complain if he just throws it into the water and yells at you because it’s not much, It’s really not much compared to him using the fuel in his daddy’s car to drive you here and take time out of his precious day but you still like to hope.
Holding the small token in your hands, you lower your chin towards your chest. Gulping nervously at the non existent saliva in your desert-dry mouth.
“I-It’s not much but uh… I made you this a-as a thank you gift for- bringing me here a-and taking time o-out of your day- uhmp-” you stutter and with a bit of bravery and courage, you thrust your hands out more towards his chest.
Your heart almost jumps at the unexpected chuckle and your hands begin to tremble as you feel his fingertips brush your palm, picking up the homemade gift with a crooked grin on his handsome face. Your hands fall onto your lap, your brain shivering in delight. He’s so delicate and gentle at how he’s holding the bracelet and you just melt at how he takes the time to admire every single little bead that you know damn well costed you $1.50 for a small pack and the small gold encrusted heart being your only special bead that you didn’t want to use for anything that isn’t special, yes it’s not actual gold but you just thought a while ago that there could be a possible chance of a real special moment that this little bead would fit perfectly in which this moment is just that.
“Aw Y/n…that’s real sweet of ya, thank you” he drawls, still looking at the bracelet in hand. Shaking his head with a bigger grin, you quietly watch as he shimmies his hand through the bracelet, starting to doubt if it’s even going to fit, but it snaps in place and moulds around his wrist perfectly and as he looks up at you, you swear you felt your nerves in your body shut down for a split second.
Then your breath hitches as his hand softly and gently picks up your hand. This can’t be happening. Watching his hand lift yours up to his lips, his baby blues peering up at you, he places a delicate kiss on the back.
“...I love you”
112 notes · View notes
st4rr-girrl · 2 years
Text
Replaced
The gang
Tumblr media
Summary; everyone in the gang has gotten girlfriends, and now none of them have time for you. And it hurts your feelings, but you go out anyways. That results in you getting jumped, and then the gang feels guilty. But you blow up at them.
Side note; y’all y/n isn’t a pick-me I swear, she doesn’t get enough love at home so the gang is her only hope 😭😭
Warnings; , small angst, hurt & comfort, cussing, Fem reader.
Tumblr media
“Hey Johnny, Ponyboy!” You smiled happily at your best friends.
“Hey Y/n.” They both said in sync, nonchalantly.
Your smile faded, before you forced yourself to smile again. “I’m heading down to the nightly double tonight. Any of y’all wanna tag along?” You asked, looking at the whole gang.
They all looked at you. “Sorry, Y/n. me and Johnny are going on a double date with our girls.” Ponyboy smirked proudly, punching Johnny’s shoulder lightly making him smirk as well.
“Us as well.” Soda said, pointing to himself, dally, two-bit, and Steve.
“Darry?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“I’ve got a broad too, Y/n. I’ll be busy.” He furrowed his brows.
“Y’all go off and get yourselves girls and then suddenly don’t got time for me??” You frowned. “We’re family, man. That just ain’t fair.”
“We’re sorry Y/n but our girls are important” soda started.
“And I’m not??” Tears welled up. “Whatever. I’m outta here. Let me know when I’m suddenly important to y’all again.” A tear fell, and you ran out of the house.
“She’s alright Ponyboy, Johnny, leave it alone. She’s just being dramatic.” Was the last thing you heard from Dally, making more tears fall.
You ran to the park. It was your comfort place.
You sat on the ground, next to the fountain. You wrapped your arms around your legs and sobbed into your knees.
This has been going on for weeks. Do they just not care about me anymore??
You sat at the fountain crying for hours. Then you realized it was getting dark.
Oh shit the movies gonna start soon.
You got up and wiped your tears. You started walking to the nightly double.
It was cold, so you were shivering.
Once you arrived at the nightly double, you hopped over the fence.
Oh god I really am a greaser.
You picked an empty chair, and sat in it to watch the movie.
You felt eyes on you, so your looked around. You caught a few socs staring at you, and you shifted uncomfortably.
I shouldn’tve come here alone.
You focused back on the movie, still on edge. You decided to keep your guard up just in case.
A little later, and the movie was about to end. You thought of just sneaking off early, and decided to do it.
You started off by walking, corner eyeing the group of drunk socs that kept eyeing you.
Once you hopped over the fence, you started running as fast as you could to the Curtis house, only going faster when you heard the socs running after you.
“Grease!!” You heard, before you were pushed against the wall of a near by building.
Fucking great. Because I really needed this right now.
One blonde soc pulled out a blade, whilst the others held you against the wall.
“Get off of me!!” You yelled, trying to wiggle out of there grip.
“No mercy for greasers, especially when they’re alone.” The blonde soc smirked.
Your eyes welled up with tears, not just because you were sad but because you were angry. Angry at the gang for letting you go out by yourself and replacing you.
“Please…” you whispered, as tears fell.
You started screaming as loud as you could, in hopes for someone to hear you.
“Shut her the fuck up!” The blonde soc whisper yelled.
A brunette soc shoved a cloth in your mouth.
The blonde soc lifted up your shirt so the side of your stomach was out.
He placed a blade against it, the cold contact making you shiver.
“Greasers deserve to be hurt. Greasers don’t even deserve to be alive.” The blonde soc widened his eyes, making him look insane as he slashed the side of your stomach. Blood immediately started pouring out of it.
You screamed into the cloth as loud as you can.
He pulled your shirt down, making you cry out from the uncomfortable injury being irritated.
He put the blade against your neck, accidentally slicing it in the process. He pulled it back, so it wasn’t in contact of your skin, and mimicked the motion you’d use to slit someone’s throat.
You shook your head furiously, trying to get everyone away from you.
The blonde soc nodded at the others, and they threw you to the ground.
They all took turns, kicking you.
You curled up into yourself and blocked your head for safety.
One last kick— it was definitely the hardest.
You sobbed out, and held that spot. There would be bruises all over you, but this one would definitely be the biggest. You’re probably gonna be so sore tomorrow.
The socs scattered once they were done with you, and you got up.
You were so weak that you could hardly stand, but you managed to start walk— limping to the Curtis house.
As soon as you saw the familiar fence, you tried to go faster. You realized your nose was leaking, and quickly figured out it was blood.
Probably from when they threw me across the fucking ground.
You opened the fence door and walked up to the front door, quickly realized the gang just got back home.
You opened the door, and invited yourself in. You took a deep breath and wiped the blood off your face, most of it just smudging.
“Hey guys.” You smiled, the smile not reaching your eyes.
“Y/n… what the fuck happened??” Dally asked, anger clear in his tone.
“I dunno. Ask the socs that beat my ass. Oh wait. I’m probably just being dramatic, right?” You shrugged, sarcasm present in your sentence as you hinted at the earlier conversation. Dally’s eyes widened in realization.
Tears welled up in your eyes, as you clutched your side. The one where you got sliced with a blade. It was still bleeding, and you were getting lightheaded.
You pulled your hands back, and they were now coated with crimson red.
You looked at the gang, and they all looked serious.
“Yknow what?” You said, about to pass out, “This is all your fault. If you weren’t all so occupied with excluding me in everything, I never would’ve went out by myself. And you can’t say I should’ve asked you to come with, because I did! This is all your guys’ fault!!” You started crying, collapsing on the floor in embarrassment. You felt so defeated.
“Y/n…” Johnny started. “We’re really really sorry.” He frowned.
“It’s fine, Johnny. I guess I’m just being sensitive. I get you guys have girls and I appreciate you treating them well. I guess I just felt a little replaced, because nobody even wanted to hang out with me anymore. And you wouldn’t even bring me along when you were all going out.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your knees.
“No, Y/n. You’re our girl. We’re family, and we’d never wanna purposefully make you feel upset.” Dally frowned. “And I’m sorry ‘bout what I said. I didn’t think you’d hear it.”
“Oh it’s alright, Dally I know you didn’t mean it.” You wiped your tears, and took a deep breath. You got up slowly, groaning and bending over when you felt a sharp pain in your side.
“Y/n? Are you alright??” Johnny asked, concern plastered on his features.
“I-I don’t know…” you got light headed.
You felt your wound become wet, and realized it started bleeding again.
You touched it, and pulled you hand back. It was covered in blood.
“Did they pull a blade out on ya’, y/n?” Soda asked. You nodded gingerly, slowly lifting up your shirt to show the gash located on your side.
The gangs eyes widened. “That’s really bad, Y/n. Let’s treat it.” Ponyboy frowned, while soda lead you to the bathroom, the rest of the gang following to watch, or hand out outside of the bathroom waiting for you.
You sat on the counter, wincing while soda cleaned your wound.
“Hey, y/n?” Johnny spoke up.
“Yes, Johnny?” You looked at him.
“Im really sorry. Im sorry for not going with you. This wouldn’t have happened if I went with you..” Johnny looked at the floor.
“Johnny, it’s alright. I forgive you all. It’s not your fault anyways, I was being stupid. I shoulda just waited till’ you all got back.” You shrugged, smiling at all the boys. They smiled back.
“I love you guys.”
“We love you too, y/n”
943 notes · View notes
thisapplepielife · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.
Just Have to Feel It
Day #9 - Prompt: The Hideout | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: Getting Started, First Gig at The Hideout
Tumblr media
"I'm fourteen," Gareth says, stressing that last part, just in case they've all forgotten.
"Yeah, we're all well aware of that, kid," Eddie answers, smirking.
And that's not a problem? Fourteen-year-olds don't go to bars. Not even in small towns. It's just not done.
"And that's not a problem, you don't think?" Gareth asks aloud, looking at the rest of them. They're all kids. Maybe Eddie isn't, but the rest of them are. And they are never, ever gonna pass for over eighteen. Jeff has braces, for fuck's sake.
"Lou said he'd look the other way as long as we don't do anything stupid. Stay away from the booze and the bar floor, and we can play on Tuesday. As a tryout, I guess," Eddie says.
His mom is never gonna go for this. Mama Jones is cool, but she's not allow her middle schooler in a bar, especially not on a weeknight, cool. Gareth damn well knows that without even asking.
Well, he was wrong and now his mom is sitting near the edge of the cobbled together stage at The Hideout. Holy shit. They're actually getting ready to do it. They're gonna play for an actual crowd. A small crowd. A very, very small crowd of about a dozen drunks that keep booing them and heckling. before they've even heard anything. This might have been a terrible idea, Gareth is pretty sure. But he'll go along with it, because Eddie wants to try this. See if they can actually play live together, outside of the garage or a school talent show. 
But getting booed? Having shit thrown at them before they've even started? Gareth's not sure he signed up for that. 
So, it's an understatement to say that Gareth's nervous, but he cracks his sticks together counting them in, and away they go. Eddie made the decision to have them play covers only, which is probably the best move they could make. These assholes are never gonna want to hear their original songs, but maybe, just maybe they'll tolerate some covers of things they already know.
The band comes in, on time, and together and that's the first hurdle to clear, honestly.
Gareth's not sure they sound good, but they don't sound terrible. They sound inexperienced and, well, scared. Even Eddie's being reserved, and if he doesn't kick it into high gear, they're gonna be run out of here, for sure. 
Someone throws a can, and Eddie ducks, which sends it straight towards Gareth. He reaches up on reflex, catches it, and throws it back, hardly missing anything.
Eddie turns to look at him, eyes wide. 
Gareth knew playing little league would come in handy someday, he just never guessed this would be the reason. 
And the crowd gets behind this act of defiance, even if Mama Jones looks mortified that her child would do such a thing. 
He just retaliated, he didn't start this shit. 
That puffs Eddie up a little bit, and he takes command of the stage in a way he hadn't yet. He's still a lanky kid, Gareth knows that, but at least he looks like they might belong on this stage, as shitty as it is.
They finish their first song, and the only positive reinforcement is from Mama Jones. She's clapping, and Gareth would be embarrassed if it wasn't so welcomed to hear at least one person enjoying themselves.
Everyone else is kind of being assholes at worst, or indifferent at best. 
They loosen up for their second and third songs, then by the time they've hit their final one, the crowd is at least refraining from hurling things at them.
Gareth supposes that's a win. 
Lou gives them the Tuesday slot, which makes Gareth wonder who the hell they had playing there before them. Because there definitely wasn't a clamoring to keep them on the stage, or get them back for another round, he's sure.
Eddie makes the deal, and then helps Gareth load his drums back into his mom's car while the rest of them pile into Eddie's van. 
When he slides into the passenger seat, his mom looks over at him.
"You were good, I'm proud of you boys," she says, and Gareth rolls his eyes, but is secretly happy with the compliment, down deep.
But, she let him do this, and he should be nicer, "Thanks for letting me do it. It was fun."
"I'll have to have a talk with Eddie, if you boys are going to do this every week. I don't know that I'll always be able to come."
"I'll be good," he says, and he means that. Eddie already treats him like a little kid, and he can't imagine that's gonna change in a bar, where he's under his care.
"You and Goodie sure sounded good together," she says, turning back on the highway.
He turns to look at her, "What?"
"You're the rhythm section, right?"
"Well, yeah. Sure."
"You worked together very well," she says, and Gareth laughs, harder than he means to, and she looks at him, questioning.
"Goodie and I never work together well," he admits, "He picks on me all the time."
"Well, you make nice music together. Maybe you'll learn to get along."
That seems unlikely. 
However, he does trust his mom's opinion on music. She gave private lessons for years. Not only piano, but other instruments, too. She's definitely where he gets his music from. Not his dad. Well, at least not that he knows of. It's not like he knows much about him.
But his mom? She's musical. She probably could have made it a career if she hadn't had him, and decided to stay in Hawkins to raise him.
"You really think so?" he asks.
"Definitely. That can't be taught, you just have to feel it together, and he got right in the pocket with you."
Maybe playing every week at The Hideout will make that flourish. Maybe they will be a real band. Holy shit.
Tumblr media
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
57 notes · View notes
jasntodds · 3 months
Text
Penance [3]
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader
Words: 10,943
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, the case jason is working is a reference to red hood: lost days
Summary:❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞
It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?
Right?
A/N: I'm so sorry for the late chapter!! I had family from out of town here that I haven't seen in like 15 years lol and then I was sick lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭
series masterlist | masterlist | tag list
Tumblr media
You head home, the smile not leaving your face. Despite your thing for running, you've been doing better. You got better about it before Jason died. And you're choosing tonight, to not run from it. A part of you thought maybe you would because Jason deserves better. But your heart beats to the sound of his name. And there is nothing you’ll ever be able to do about it. He has ruined you for anyone else and you can’t even be mad because you only ever want him anyway. Even if that means friends. So, instead of running and punishing yourself tonight, you let the smile plaster itself over your face and you let your heart beat wildly while your stomach spins with butterflies.
Molly’s attention is pulled to the door as you lean against it, closing it.
“Hey.” Moly chimes. “How’d it go?” She asks, seeing the lazy smile across your face, gathering hope for her friends.
“Good.” You push off the door before you kick off your shoes. “Tim suspects nothing. I’m sure he will at some point and we’re gonna start tomorrow.” You explain, noticing the laptop open in front of Molly but seeing Goodreads open instead of anything of importance, immediately telling you Molly's been waiting for you.
“Oh, we’re?" Molly beams with a teasing grin. "So you guys talked?” Molly's eyes track you as you walk over to the sink.
“Yes.” You answer and the smile doesn't budge. “We train Tim tomorrow.” You state casually as you grab a small bag of Cheetos from the cabinet beside the sink.
Molly eyes you as you jump onto the counter, sitting to face Molly before opening your bag of Cheetos. You offer no other explanation. No part of Molly should even be surprised because of course, you aren't going to give her any detail unless she asks specific questions.
“You haven’t spoken to him in a month and a half. You’ve been asking about him at least every other day. And that’s it?”
You sway your feet, not quite letting your heels touch the cabinet below you as you shrug. “It’s kind of weird. I don’t know.” You shake your head before eating a Cheeto. “It was really nice to see him though.” Your voice is soft as you divert your eyes to the bag in your hands, a tender smile on your lips.
Molly's chest warms with your response. It's not that you've been miserable or even all too unhappy over the last month. It's just that it's very clear something is missing. It's clear that it's been hard for you and some of that is your own doing to yourself. Tonight, you seem calm, not as on edge as you usually are. Before tonight, it was as if you were just anticipating something horrible to happen at any second but now you're sitting peacefully on the counter, your face clear of any worry lines and your brows aren't tugged together in thought. It's a bit of a relief from where Molly is sitting.
“Are you done punishing yourself?” Molly asks.
You snap your attention back to Molly before you scoff. “What?”
“You’re punishing yourself for what happened." Molly states simply. You won't explain hardly anything about your own blame. Molly isn't sure if it's just the death of Jason or if it's the whole fallout after, maybe both. But, Molly does know you and she knows you've been punishing yourself, regardless on if you'll ever talk about it. "Are you done? Now that you got to talk to him. I told you, he’s doing okay.”
“You always said you’re worried.” You point a Cheeto at Molly, intentionally avoiding the question.
“There will never be a point in time I’m not worried about him. He's Jason. Red Hood, Robin, just Jason. He’s always up to something.” Molly states with a soft laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, he is.” You let out a sigh. “I just…I really didn’t think he wanted to talk.” You shrug your shoulders. “I didn’t want to intrude on his space and ruin something for him, ya know? I mean…he died and he was really getting help and trying to get better, I didn’t wanna call and ruin that for him.” You shake your head as you chew the inside of your cheek.
That is not the full reason but it is the reason you're willing to say. You know if you tell Molly everything, Molly will tell you that it’s ridiculous. She’ll say it’s been forgiven. She’ll tell Jason and Jason will feel guilty, probably. Jason will bring it up so it doesn’t eat you alive. It's not something you want at all right now. So, you stick with half the story.
“I get it.” Molly nods her head. “At least you guys are talking now.” Molly smiles softly. "I could have told you he wanted to talk though if that was all you needed to know."
"Did he say something?" You question almost a little too quickly, making Molly laugh.
"No." Molly shakes her head. "But he always asked about you. He was asking Gar, too." Molly explains simply as she watches your brows furrow. "He wouldn't have if he didn't want to talk. You two have got to learn how to communicate."
"You're talking to Gar?" You ask, bypassing the entire point of Molly's explanation.
"Yeah?" Molly questions easily but she takes a page from your book and offers no other explanation. "Don't change the subject."
You let out a chortle. "Pretty sure all of our problems would be solved if we communicated." You scrunch your nose before finishing off your Cheetos.
"Okay, so we're in agreement. So, tomorrow, you're gonna see him and tell him that you still think about him all the time and this time a part was a huge waste of time?" Molly gives you a cheeky grin.
You nod quickly before flipping her off with the raise of your brows, making Molly just laugh in response. “I’m gonna shower and head to bed though. I will update you when there is something to be updated on with the Jason front.”
“Thank you.” Molly beams with sarcasm.
Tumblr media
Meanwhile, Jason is with Tim. Tim has a lot of questions, that’s for sure. You said he was insistent but Jason had no idea. Tim has been asking questions ever since you left and it’s not even annoying. He just wants to know things about Robin and Batman, being a vigilante, stuff about Jason. Jason finds it a bit funny because it's very reminiscent of his early days as Robin, filled with questions and hope. Tim wants to know about Red Hood but he avoids asking about his death. It’s mostly what he’s doing now and how it all works. He asks about his Robin days. Jason doesn’t talk a lot about them but he tries to offer something that isn’t bitter or sad or discouraging for Tim.
“Think I’ll find Venta?” Tim asks, changing up his line of questioning for a minute.
“Don’t know.” Jason shrugs before he takes a squig of his beer. “If y/n can’t figure it out with you, might not even be in the city.” Jason lies with ease.
“What do I do then?” Tim is desperate for this mission to go smoothly. It's his first time as Robin and he doesn't want to let Dick down.
“Go back to Metropolis.” Jason states.
“Yeah, I guess.” Tim lets out a defeated sigh.
If anyone knows what it's like to not want to disappoint someone like Dick, it's Jason. It's hard and he doesn't fault Dick for this plan. Jason will give it to him, it makes sense, it's a good idea. But, Tim isn't going to find Venta and Jason feels for him.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Jason changes the subject in hopes of taking Tim's mind off of Venta for at least a second.
“Uh, yeah.” Tim nods his head, shifting in his seat. “Bernard.” Tim's heart weighs heavy in his chest.
Jason nods once. “How long has he been in the coma?”
“A while.” Tim says sadly.
Jason watches Tim fiddling with his half-empty water bottle in front of him. All things considered, Jason thinks Tim is handling everything well, at least on the outside. Jason is certain if you were the one in the coma, Dick wouldn't get him to leave under any circumstance. He'd be fighting tooth and nail until you were out of the coma, even if that maybe would not be the smartest or best route.
Usually, Jason is really good at compartmentalizing, partially through training with Bruce and partially due to trauma. But, anytime it ever came to you, it got a little muddied. He could still be Robin, no problem but in a situation like Tim is in, Jason isn't so sure he'd be able to work anything else until he knew you were okay. Tim seems to be able to put his emotions, his anger and care for others, aside for what must be done. Dick still isn't always the best at it.
Jason thinks this might make Tim a better Robin.
“Hey, the Titans will figure out. Always do.” Jason assures him.
"Yeah." Tim lets out a sigh with a soft nod, hoping he's right. “Can I ask you something?”
“You’ve been asking me shit.” Jason quips back.
“How’d you do it?” Tim asks bluntly. “Y/n said she’s been hurt a lot. Doing this. How’d you deal with it?”
Being here is not as easy as Tim is making it seem. The excitement of this is definitely helping but Bernard is still in the back of his head. Every time Gar or Dick or Conner text him, he almost has a panic attack, terrified it'll be bad news about Bernard. He feels like he's not helping and if anyone should be helping his boyfriend, it should absolutely be him. But, Dick is the leader and he can't just go against him. Tim still needs to prove that he can be a good Robin. It's as if he's being torn in two and maybe Jason isn't the best person to ask given everything but Jason is at least very honest.
“Cuts and bruises are different than a coma." Jason states, unsure how else he's supposed to answer.
"You know what I mean, man." Tim almost groans with a plea.
Jason pauses for a few seconds, knowing he doesn't exactly have an answer. The person he should be asking is you because if you can get up and continue this after everything, anyone can. For Jason, it's always been that he has no choice. It's always been about survival, it's still about survival. He can't just sit around and hope for the best. Jason's never been sit around and wait person anyway. Something has to be done. Unfortunately for Tim, that's about all the advice Jason is going to be able to give him.
“Just do it.” Jason answers. “Moping about it isn’t going to help. You get up and do something.”
“I’m here.” Tim states.
“Because Dick needed you to do something. That’s still doing something, right?” Jason raises though he does understand Tim's argument.
“Yeah, but shouldn't I be there to help?” Tim asks. “This is great, ya know? On my own, being Robin! It’s like the coolest thing ever. But, why couldn't this wait?” Tim shakes his head with a soft scoff.
“I’m sure he’s got his reasons.” Jason assures him. "Look, man, Dick's doing what's best for you to be Robin and you know they're trying to figure it out. This is still helping." Jason tries to offer some reason to Tim before he gets to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.” Jason jerks his head towards the door. “Don’t sweat it, alright? Dick’s got it handled.” Jason states and it’s still a little weird having a little faith in Dick but given all of the events that happened, Dick hasn’t given Jason too hard of a time when they’ve talked.
Jason shows Tim to a room. It’s not much. A TV and a couch, that’s mostly it but it’ll do. Tim won’t be in Gotham long anyway. Jason fetches him a blanket and tells him he has free reign of the place, just don’t break anything and then he’s off to his own room.
He’s switched rooms since the last time you were here. The mattresses is sat up against the north wall but he has an ensuite bathroom. The door to the ensuite is a few feet from the mattress, the head of the mattress and the doorframe on the same wall. Two dressers stand on the wall opposite. He has a turn table and some vinyls. A bookshelf stands tall, loaded with books right next to the bedroom door. It is not much, especially compared to the Manor and the Tower but it’s his. And it’s the things he likes.
Jason heads for the shower, expecting to get it done and over with before trying to get some sleep. But, despite feeling fine all day, something starts feeling wrong. He thought he felt fine, all things considered, but as he tugs his hoodie and shirt over his head, his hands start to shake. They’re practically vibrating right off on his wrists and his heart starts to thunder in his chest. Something in his body feels wrong, like something is going to melt out of his ears. It gets harder to breathe and his head gets dizzy. There's a feeling like maybe his eyesight might start to go next while his hands grip the edge of the sink to stabilize himself. Every muscle in his legs starts to feel numb and weak while the shaking has moved up to his elbows. His arms feel like cinderblocks so he slams his eyes shut and tries to breathe.
He doesn’t know what this is. It doesn’t feel quite like a panic attack. Those always felt explosive. They are loud in comparison. But this? This feels quiet and it feels sharp, deafening. It creeps on him and then hits him in full force when he’s not looking. It always passes but it scares the shit out of him that this might not just be a bad panic attack. What if the Pit is calling him back? He hates the thought but he knows it has to, right? Because being alive doesn’t feel quite right either. Nothing feels quite right anymore.
The feeling starts to pass in a few minutes while Jason looks to the mirror. He hates that white streak. Dick didn’t even get it. Jason gets dunked in the Pit and Jason comes back a monster with a white streak of hair, feeling like he’s going to be ripped back to his own grave in a matter of time. Dick on the other hand seems fine and his hair is fucking normal. What the fuck is even up with that?
There aren’t any bruises decorating his face and he can’t help but think you might have been relieved. You always were. But, you don’t see the y scar staring back at him in the mirror or the red and black bruises over his torso from the other night. He is thankful for that. They hurt. Jason doesn’t waste much more time on it before he gets in the shower. He has to get up early, an appointment with Leslie and all.
Tumblr media
By the time the next day rolls around, you pick up Tim from Jason's, Jason nowhere to be found. All you got was that he had left early and he said he'd be back later. Very Jason not to give out any form of detail. And maybe you're a little disappointed you missed him. But, you don't show it as you and Tim head off to Harbor, Tim hoping to find Venta while you're just playing along. Mostly, you want to see how he interrogates people, see if he's any good at it. Tim has never seemed the violent type but you're thinking him as Robin might surprise you since he's so dedicated to the cause.
So, the two of you go and you spend a few hours doing this. You take a backseat, watching as Tim tries to get answers. You give out pointers whenever he lets someone go because he's not the best at it. He's not bad but you feel like he can do better. He can figure out anything, he just needs to get better at threatening people even though you know these people are in fact innocent so you're not actually inciting violence this time. Innocent people don't need to get hurt just so Tim can learn how to be Robin.
After a few hours, you suggest you head back, clearly you aren't going to find anything out. And you're hungry. Tim reluctantly agrees, mostly because you suggested you visit his parents really quick, grab some food, and head back. So, you do, making casual conversations on the way.
By the time you get back, you find Jason in his own training room, the room you were in last night. He's at the monitors working on something but spins around in a chair once you and Tim walk in, Tim holding a take-out bag.
"Got you food." Tim states, digging in the bag for Jason's.
Jason's eyes dart to you as you take your mask off and offer him a soft smile. "I'm gonna change. Don't touch my food..." Your eyes narrow at Jason. "Jason."
"I don't eat your food." Jason snarks back as he takes the container from Tim.
"The fuck you do." You quip back before you spin on your heels, heading to the bathroom down the hall.
You change quickly, ready to just eat your lunch. You still go to Excellent Gotham a few times a week and you're still not bored of it. Once you're in your street clothes, you head back to the room to find the boys practically scarfing down their food with Jason still sat by the monitors and Tim at the small table.
"Where were you this morning?" You ask as you take a seat beside Tim.
"Busy." Jason answers, mouth full of food. "Something for Babs." Jason lies, keeping it casual.
It's not that he cares if you know he's going to see Leslie again or that he cares much if Tim knows. It's that he doesn't want to get into it. There's still a lot of work to be done and it's his work to be done so he keeps it close to his chest.
"Right." You nod your head, eying him carefully before you open your own take-out container.
"She's got you working something, right?" Jason asks, careful not to make it seem like he's brushing you off entirely.
"Yeah, seems like it's just the one guy running shit but there might be more to it." You explain as you eat.
"So you guys just work with the commissioner?" Tim asks as he looks between the two of them.
You and Jason glance between each other before you both shrug your shoulders.
"Kind of." You answer.
"Basically." Jason answers. "There's some shit the GCPD can't do because of red tape or legal reasons so she sends us."
"We have to make money somehow." Sam says sarcastically.
Tim shakes his head. "Do you ever get used to it? I mean this has been awesome over the past few weeks."
Jason looks down at his food. He would not say someone just gets used to it, not really. There is always some form of excitement that takes over when he puts a suit on and he goes out. There's always some form of excitement facing off with people who can kill him and who want to kill him. That part is slightly different now, he almost feels just the tint of anxiety. Death became a reality and he is not invincible but he goes out. It's still something he genuinely feels good about. It's different and there isn't this huge sense of pride with it anymore but he still likes it. It's not so much that someone just gets used to it.
"Not really." Jason answers softly.
You don't think you'll ever be used to it. It's a routine, sure. That part of the job you're used to but everything else? Not so much. You still absolutely love doing it but it's different than before. It almost felt somewhat of an obligation then, living with the Titans and then Batman and Robin. But now, it's entirely your choice. This is your choice to do this and that is cathartic in a way. You're taking control of your life but that doesn't mean you're used to going out and willingly putting yourself in front of gunfire and a bunch of people who want to kill you. You aren't used to the pain that comes with it. Maybe going out every night to protect people is something someone gets used to but possibly dying for other people with such violence is not. Losing people to this life is not.
"I don't think so." You answer honestly.
The three of you continue your meals, Tim finishing first. He's back on his feet as soon as he's done, rushing to throw away his takeout dish as Jason and you watch him. He's still got the suit on and he doesn't look like he's going to change. Something about it makes you think this is probably how Jason was when he first got the suit. He probably slept in it.
"I'm gonna go back out there." Tim declares to the room.
Jason looks to you and you look to Jason. Are either of you supposed to stop him? He looks pretty determined. Stopping him might seem suspicious. Stopping him might be worse off for his training.
"You think you'll find anything out?" Jason questions.
"I have to. It's my job." Tim states and that's when you know you should let him go alone.
"Call if you need anything. Keep your phone on and I'll have Molly track it in case you get into any trouble like you did last night." You offer a simple smile.
"Right...yeah okay, thanks." Tim gives you a sheepish smile before he darts right out of the room, the bo staff in hand.
"He's gonna get his ass kicked." Jason mutters.
"Definitely." You nod your head.
"Why'd you let him go then?" Jason nearly chortles as he takes another bite.
"Why didn't you stop him?" You chortle right back. Tim is also Jason's job. "He has a job to do and we'll never be able to train him in any of this if he actually thinks he can do it. I get Dick is building confidence or whatever but Tim's detective skills will only get him so far." You state.
"That's why I didn't stop him." Jason laughs with the shake of his head.
The room falls silent as you both continue your food. You text Molly letting her know about Tim and just to keep an ear out in case something hits the fan and you and Jason need to go help him. Tim is only supposed to be asking questions, he should be fine until he gets back so you aren't too worried and neither is Jason.
"Still the Shimmer case?" You ask as you toss your takeout away.
"Uh, yeah and another one." Jason states, turning back to the monitors, pulling up a few missing posters for kids.
"More missing kids?" You question as you take a seat beside him.
"Nope." Jason starts, shaking his head in annoyance. "We know where most of them are which is the problem." Jason huffs.
"Do I even want to know?" You ask cautiously with a grimace.
"They've got them spread out across the city but anytime anyone gets close, they move. I think it's someone in the department running it." Jason explains, glancing to you. "Made a whole fucking business of selling kids."
"Fucking gross." You grimace as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "Are they keeping them in Gotham though?"
"These ones." Jasn pulls up about ten posters as he gestures to the screen. "We haven't gotten a sighting or word about in about two weeks so I don't think so. But the others we've seen here and there or heard something. Babs wants me to be careful, track who I can until I find the one running it. Then let her take it from there." Jason lets out a bitter scoff, still hellbent on fighting Babs tooth and nail over this one.
"Right, but you're Jason Todd who doesn't do that. So what are you actually going to do about it?" You ask with hope Jason will take it into his own hands. Anyone who's willing to just sell kids for who knows what, shouldn't be able to get locked away and then let free to do it all over again in a different city.
"Scare him out into the open and then kill him. Selling fucking kids. No one gets to just go through the fucking justice system that'll let them out to do it all over again. Babs is gonna be pissed but I don't fucking care." Jason huffs, determination written over every line of his face.
"Good, fuck that guy." You scoff and you'd be lying if you didn't want in. "Need any help?" You ask, keeping your eyes on the screen to not seem too eager about offering help.
Jason laughs softly. "I thought you didn't team?" Jason quips, looking back at you with the raise of his brows. It's the same look he always gave you when he just wanted to watch you squirm, the question at hand not even being a real question.
Your heart starts to thunder in your chest again and maybe sitting so close to him was just your subconscious because you swear you didn't do it on purpose. It's the way he grins back at you just as he always did whenever he was trying to fuck with you. Before, before things got all messy and real, he'd scoot closer to you and wiggle his brows. But, he doesn't. He keeps his signature smirk as your eyes are locked on his. You forgot how much you love the color green.
"That wasn't a no and I thought you didn't team anymore." You quip back, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your head on your hand as your brows raise at him.
He'd always team with you if you asked.
"Could make an exception." Jason raises back.
"Aw, just for me?" You scrunch your nose at him.
"Could be fun." Jason teases as his heart erupts into pooling lava.
"Could be." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Loser."
Jason lets out a laugh. "Actually, yeah, I think you can help." Jason cuts it short pulling a mug shot of a woman you helped last week. "Know her right?"
"Yeah, she was one of the women I got out of the ring I'm working. She flipped." You state.
"Rumor has it, she was working with my guy first." Jason explains.
"Right, and he got bored as they do, recruit someone else." You state.
"Think you could talk to her?"Jason asks. "She'll know, at least, who he is, could fucking help."
"She wouldn't give us any names." You shrug before your brows furrow. "You said you guys think he's working for the department?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, she bypassed the whole system and clearance Babs set up. She's not in the program either. I checked. Babs said it was some sort of glitch or something but I don't think she believes it." You explain.
"Well, what about her friends? We can try to find her but until then, what about her friends?" Jason asks, knowing someone had to slip at some point. The more people involved, the harder it is to keep secrets. People love telling secrets.
"Yeah, yeah, uh...we have a few we're watching and one in our program. I can try." You offer with a simple nod.
"Thank you." Jason offers a subtle, closed-mouth smile.
"Of course, happy to help." You offer the same smile back.
The room falls silent between you while you watch Jason look over his monitors. He really has the whole setup now. Scans over the city, security system, alerts. It reminds you a little of the Batcave and Titans tower. You and Molly don't have quite the extensive system Jason does but it works for you. You're happy he's got it all laid out though. It makes her feel like he might be being a little safe out there, maybe taking a little extra caution for his life.
Jason glances at you and he wonders how this would be different if so much time hadn't passed, if things were different between you. He wonders if you'd be more of a team, working these missions together. He wonders if you'd be here with him or if you'd still live with Molly. Would you still take up a different part of the city? That actually would make more sense. Three vigilantes spread out can cover more ground but he thinks about it anyway. Would you be training together still? Would you meet up halfway through patrol for a quick snack by his favorite gargoyle or the roof near the wolf enclosure at the zoo? Too much time passed and he really wishes it wouldn't have.
It's for the best, he tells himself over and over to try and convince himself it is. He wants you so bad still that it is killing him but he can't let you down like he did before. That is not fair and he's worried he's not ready. And this is the second time you've spoken in a month and a half. That doesn't seem fair to even spring it on you. But you should know, right? Jason wonders if you should or maybe too much time has passed there, too. Maybe you think his feelings have changed with the lack of contact.
They haven't. They never could.
He just wants you to be happy even if it's not with him.
Jason clears his throat. "How have you been anyways?" Jason answers, trying to ease his own thoughts. "Molly and Gar said you're okay." Jason says softly and he says it on purpose, testing the waters.
Your brows pull together, watching as the corner of his mouth pulls up just slightly. The honesty of him asking your friends is new. "You asking about me, Jay?" The sarcasm isn't as strong as it normally is as if you're genuinely surprised he's being blunt about it but you aren't mad. Molly mentioned it last night but you didn't press, thinking it didn't mean much but with Jason stating it, it has to.
Jason shrugs. "I know you ask about me." Jason quips back grinning back at you, taking a shot in the dark with his assumption. If he's been asking, he's hoping you were, too.
Of course, you do but you want to know how he knows that. And then you remember. Jason Todd knows every single thing about you, inside and out. Even in his worst mental health days, somewhere deep inside his guarded heart, he knows you always loved him. Of course, you've asked about him. You have to. You don't want to live in a world where you don't check on him. It would be a dull and grey world and that's just not one you want to live in.
You suck your teeth, an uncontrollable smile coming to your face. "I always have to check on you." You say quietly, looking to the screens. Jason wants to combust. "I, uh, yeah, I've been okay." You pull in a breath, not letting your words linger in the air for too long. "Living with Molly is different but it's nice." You nod your head quickly. "How are you?"
"Good." Jason answers. "Yeah, it's uh, it's cool being away from Bruce and being able to do my own thing." Jason nods his head.
You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes. "Why are they worried about you then?" You question carefully.
"They're always worried, like you." Jason quips.
"Because you always give us reason to be worried." You widen your eyes at him.
"I don't fucking know, honestly. Think they just are." Jason clears his throat again, desperately wishing people didn't worry so much about him. It makes the guilt heavier. "After everything."
"Yeah, that's, uh, yeah, t-that makes sense." Your face falls as Jason watches the sadness rip itself across your features.
"What about you? They're worried about you, too." Jason nods his head up at you.
You pull in a breath. "Uh...yeah it's just...I don't know." You shake your head. "Same reason maybe and uh, just...being out there." You nod your head, omitting the parts about some nightmares and some reckless tendencies that were not there a few months ago.
"You sure you're alright?" Jason asks as his eyes narrow slightly as if he has some sort of sixth sense always telling when something's going on with you.
There's a single second where you almost bear it all to him. You almost tell him why you picked a fight last night and why you never called. You almost tell him why you patrol more than he does -- according to Molly. There's a part of you that almost wants to tell him because you would have before. But that was before, this is now. It's different now. He doesn't have to carry it for you anymore. It's not fair to him.
You nod. "Yeah, are you sure?" You point a finger to your head.
"Yeah, yeah, uh I've been seeing Leslie." Jason admits despite him wanting to keep it close to his chest. He can always tell when something is picking at you, he considers this an olive branch, an offering of acknowledgment that he's still here. He watches you take a breath, relief almost washing over your face. "It's helping a little." Jason nods his head. "Maybe you and Bruce were right about it." Jason lets out a soft chuckle.
"I'm usually right about most things." You smirk right back at him. "I'm glad you're going and that it's helping." You smile softly at him, genuinely relieved he decided to go back. "You look really good, Jay."
"So do you." Jason whispers softly.
The words "I miss you" choke through Jason's throat, shredding the flesh into pieces. They get stuck and seep into the open wounds, reabsorbing themselves right into his flesh as the blood drowns them from ever coming to the surface. Before, you always told each other you missed each other but something about the words now feel too weighted. There's too much emotion tied to them. There are too many feelings tugged onto every single letter. The words will never be simply platonic again because how can they be?
He misses the way your hand would run through his hair after he's had a nightmare. And the way you'd kiss his head lazily before you'd eventually fall asleep. He misses the way you'd tell him you love him as if it's the only words you'd ever known and how even when they were said lazily and with sleep still in your eyes, they all weighed the same. It always meant the same. He misses being able to tell you everything and being able to expose his worst parts to you without ever being judged. And how your hand fit perfectly in his and the way you'd warm up her hands with her powers before rubbing out the knots in his back. He misses how you'd kiss him and immediately start smiling as if it is the one thing that would make you happy even on your worst day.
He misses the way you were allowed to love each other.
You almost pick up your hand and run it through the white streak of hair just to mess with it. You almost do but catch yourself. Maybe if you were still friends who had talked over the last month, you would have but not now. You don't want to invade his personal space. Jason has always been a bit skittish. You remember some of the first times you stepped into his space, touched him in ways he didn't seem to expect. He'd freeze, his entire body would tense as if you were going to hurt him even if all you did was rest your hand on his cheek. Over time, he'd relax but you remember that and it breaks your heart. You wonder if he'd freeze like that again or if he'd relax eventually.
"So," You pull in a breath. "This is officially your new place?" You ask as you look around the room.
"Yeah," Jason chuckles, his eyes still locked on you. "Did ya want a tour?" Jason offers.
"Yeah, actually that'd be cool." You laugh softly as Jason stands up.
He shakes his head and then offers you his hand on purpose. "Come on." Jason jerks his head.
You look at his hand and then back his eyes. Your hand goes into his as you get up. He drives you crazy and maybe this isn't the cat-and-mouse game you always played but you offer it anyway, for old times' sake.
"Shithead." You mutter once you're to your feet and your hand is back at your side.
Jason laughs this soft laugh that feels the way the first 'I love you' does. "Babe." Jason says back, for old times' sake.
The two of you start the tour. It's not a house. It's an orphanage that closed down years ago. You find it a bit ironic this is one of the places he picked but you keep it quiet. So, Jason leads you around, showing you some of the rooms and explains some of the things he wants to do. He wants one of them to be a library because of course he does. Another room he wants to dedicate solely to a kitchen and another to a training room, weight room, monitor room like the Batcave. There's another one he wants just for a shooting range to keep it all contained. You swear he has it all figured out. And then you get to his bedroom, last on the tour because it was furthest away from where you started.
You nod your head, looking at the bookcase. "Makes sense." You point to it. "I'm glad you don't have to hide it." You nod your head at him with a soft smile, the scrapbook page you made him for his birthday does not go unnoticed on top of the bookshelf.
Jason looks to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's nice." Jason looks around with a subtle smile.
"I really like it, Jay." You say honestly. "Do you like it?"
Jason looks around some more feeling a sense of warmth and and pride in his chest. "Yeah, I do." Jason nods. "It's not the manor or anything."
"You always said the manor wasn't the real you anyway. This the real you?" You ask.
Jason pulls in a breath, his eyes still scanning around the room. He isn't sure if it's all him, really. It's hard to tell these days what's really him and what's leftover from his previous life. It's hard to tell if those two things can bleed into one or if the past him died with the crowbar. He likes to think this will be the real him. Better. But, you always knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than he knew himself.
"You tell me." Jason shrugs softly as his eyes land back on you.
"I think so." You give him a tender smile. "Simple, repurposing something left to rot. Making it into something good. I think it's very you. And I do not think it is a coincidence that there are empty rooms." You offer him a cheeky smirk with a soft laugh. "Expecting guests at some point."
Jason chuckles as his cheeks start to burn. "Shut the fuck up." Jason glances to the floor and then back to you before he gestures a hand out. "You planning on needing a place to stay?" Jason quips.
"If you're offering." You quip back and you watch him shift his weight to his right leg before rolling his shoulders.
Jason's heart skips a beat right into his throat. "What? Bored of Molly already?"
"Nah, just fun to fuck wit you, still." You tease him with a toothy grin.
"Right." Jason scoffs but a smile is on his face, maybe his heart sinks a little even if he knew it was a joke to begin with.
The room falls silent and something about this doesn't feel right. It's weird not living together with no thought of ever living together again. You've always been just fine on your own and you love living with Molly but it's always Jason you wish were there when you get home. Missing him has become routine but not in a way you ever get used to. Missing him is just there, all the time. It's exhausting missing him.
"Might have to take up the offer though when I get hurt." You clear your throat, tugging your sleeves down. Jason's brows furrow at you. "Molly fusses over it."
"You planning on getting hurt anytime soon?" Jason asks as concern washes over his face.
"No." You scoff. "I just mean...ya know?" You shrug your shoulders.
Molly isn't squeamish. She never has been, not from what you remember prior to your mom dying. But, you got hurt your first week living with Molly and it really wasn't anything. It was just a long cut, not too deep, won't even scar. But, Molly fussed over it and there was a lot of blood. You aren't too oblivious to know why Molly suddenly fusses over blood. You just can't tell Jason that, it's not fair to him.
"It's Molly, she worries." You brush it off.
Jason nods his head with understanding, sensing there's something more but he chooses not to dig. "You're always welcome to stay." Jason pulls in a soft breath with a subtle smile.
"Thanks, Jay." You give him a small and shy smile.
"Of course." Jason says softly and he decides to leave it there. "Wanna keep waiting for Tim? Check on him?"
"We should. If something happens, Dick will kill us." You laugh softly.
"Yeah, we aren't fighting for once, don't wanna get back there." Jason chuckles as the two of you head back to his current training room.
The two of you take your seats beside each other. You get a text from Molly letting you know everything with Tim seems okay from where she's sitting. So, the two of you wait on the monitors, figuring he'll be fine. Nothing too bad has been going down around Harbor anyway.
Tumblr media
A few hours later, Tim comes back looking quite a bit defeated. He greets the two of you before he heads off to change. Jason and you actually feel bad for him. He has so much hope of getting this done when there isn't anything to get done. You both entirely understand why Dick sent him on a fake mission. It makes perfect sense and in a way, it's teaching him he is not perfect. He won't win all of them and he can ask for help. That's when you both realize that is likely Dck's real point. You both can step it up.
Tim walks back in a few minutes later still looking a little defeated. The case is in one hand and his bo staff is in the other. He puts the case down against the wall and takes a place on the mat in the middle of the room. You let out a soft laugh. Apparently, part of being a vigilante is needing to train in order to work out frustration.
"Follow my lead." Jason whispers to you right before he gets up and heads over to the fridge while Tim is moving his staff through the air and between his hands.
"I asked everybody down on Harbor about this guy, Venta. And nobody's heard of him." Tim states in frustration, watching as Jason grabs a beer from the fridge.
"Must be in deep cover." Jason states, popping the cap from the beer, the cap clanking on the floor. You get up from your seat, moving to lean against the table that sits off to the side but in between the boys. "Or dead." Jason suggests before taking a sip from the bottle. Tim offers a simple glare to him, not liking the answer as he continues with his Bo staff. "You like that thing?" Jason asks, closing some of the distance between the boys. "Can you actually use it?" Jason stops about two feet in front of Tim.
Tim holds the staff over his right shoulder, facing Jason. This is his chance. "Why don't we go a few rounds and I'll show you?" Tim asks, almost seeming confident in his ask.
Jason looks to the floor, eying his beer and then he looks to you, a smirk on his face. Jason knows without a second thought that this is going to be fun for him, not so much for Tim. He raises his brows quickly before taking another sip on his way over to the table to put the beer down.
"You're going to regret asking that." You quip and you'd be lying if you said you didn't admit his confidence, even if unwarranted.
"What?" Tim asks, trying to conceal his sudden concern.
"You'll see." You laugh softly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Jason walks back over, the boys locking eyes on each other the whole time. You can't tell if Tim asked because Jason was Robin and he thinks it'll be fun and cool. Or if he asked for some training and now is regretting it because Jason was Robin and now Red Hood and he knows this will only end in pain.
Jason nods up at Tim. "One round." Jason states.
Tim takes up the challenge, taking a step back as he points the end of the Bo staff as Jason's chest. There's a very small and subtle smile trying to make its way onto Tim's face. Jason gives it a few seconds before smacking the bo staff right out of Tim's hands, sending it to the ground. Tim lets out a breath with a sudden jolt, almost defeat and even a little embarrassment covers his face.
Jason grins more to himself than anything. "Maybe two rounds." Jason states before looking over to you. "You wanna try?"
You push off the table, switching places with Jason while Tim picks up his staff. "Cool?" You ask Tim.
Tim nods a few times, trying to hide his excitement of getting to train with the both of you. "Yeah, we're good."
Tim takes a step back and this time, he holds the staff closer to himself, his grip tighter. His feet are planted better on the ground but you know he doesn't stand a chance. Tim doesn't expect sparring to be mean. But you trained with Jason who would kick someone while they were down just to make sure they're prepared for everything.
The staff is pointed at you and then Tim pulls it to the side quickly, about to use it to smack you with it in order to make the first move to not make the same mistake as last time. But you grab the end of the staff before it can even come close and in a quick and fluid motion, you yank it right from his hands, flipping the staff in your hands and pointing it right at his head.
"Alright." Tim lets out a sigh as you hand the staff back over.
"You need some help." Jason states, walking back over to you and Tim. "You're never gonna get this Venta guy if you can't even last a few seconds between us."
"There hasn't been a lot of time to train." Tim almost groans with the shake of his head.
"Yeah, I heard." You nod your head. "Gar told me. Well, you're here." You shrug your shoulders.
"Been a while since I sparred with anyone." Jason looks between you and Tim, something menacing behind his eyes.
"What'd you say, Tim?" You ask with a taunting grin.
"Wait, really?" Tim asks as his eyes go wide. "You guys will help?"
"Well, I don't want you to get killed." You state.
"Yeah, we're not trying to watch you sign your death certificate while you're here."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks." Tim beams with a large smile.
"I'm gonna change real quick, warm him up." Jason nods at you before he walks to the door.
"You guys are gonna help me?" Tim asks. "This is really cool. Thank you."
"You're a dork." You state, watching Tim chew his cheek. "It was so cool being trained by Robin though." You gush. 
"He's not gonna go easy on me, is he?" Tim asks as he nods his head, realizing who he just signed up to train with.
You let out a cackle. "Fuck no. Jason doesn't go easy on anyone." You let out a laugh as you sit on the floor and start stretching.
Tim joins you and starts stretching. "How is this going to work with your combat thing?" Tim asks.
"I try to ignore it. It's actually a little easier to ignore now, like sparring with people I trust."
"You can ignore it?" Tim's brows furrow at you. "How's that work?"
"Eh, kind of it. It's not really ignoring it as just pretending like it isn't there. It's kind of hard to explain. I just noticed, even back at the Tower, it just wasn't as strong training with everyone. I don't know." You shrug softly.
Jason comes back a few minutes later, going to the back room where there's a jukebox. While Jason gets some music going, you and Tim get to your feet. Tim grabs his bo staff, moving it around again as if he's preparing. You watch over your shoulder at Jason.
He's gained a bit more muscle over the last month and a half. The shirt he's wearing fits him well, cutting just below his waist. The sleeves hug his biceps that you swear are bigger and it's tighter around his chest. Your eyes trail down to his sweatpants. There's no difference there but there was something about Jason in sweatpants that you found to be the most attractive.
Jason turns back around, catching you staring. Heat runs over his cheeks as he smirks back at you. It's cheeky and arrogant, just as it always is. You roll your eyes, turning back around. Jason walks over to you and Tim gets ready.
"Okay, give me what you got." Tim says with confidence, swinging the bo staff around fluidly.
Jason doesn't even let him finish the sentence before he yanks the bo staff from Tim with almost no effort and then smacks Tim on the side of the head, making him fall to the ground. You burst out laughing as Tim looks up at Jason with surprise.
"You rely too much on your toys." Jason states sternly. Tim gets back to his feet, holding his head. "Okay." Jason says calmly and he's starting to feel in his element again. "On three, I'm gonna attack. You ready?" Jason asks.
Tim gets his stance ready, a little wobbly on his feet. "Ready."
"One." Jason says and then immediately goes to smack Tim again but this time Tim blocks his arm only for Jason to kick Tim in the back of the knee, sending him right back to the ground.
"What the fuck." Tim says, quickly getting back on his feet. "You said three!"
"Yeah! The Riddler's not gonna count." Jason strikes right back.
Tim looks to you for help. This is completely different than how he's been training with Conner and Gar. With Gar, they count off and spar, Gar definitely seems to go easy on him with TIm's lack of experience. And to be fair, a lot of the training with Conner is Tim just hitting him with no effect at all. But, Jason really isn't going to play fair. Tim's only hope is that you will.
"No one out there is going to tell you when they're going to attack. You just have to know." You state, not willing to help. "You're a Titan today and we're here but you're gonna be on your own. You're going to be helpless one day. Learn today never to be helpless." You nod your head, taking your turn with him.
The two of you get into your stances. You know you won't be nearly as ruthless as Jason. You only have a few days to get Tim in shape to fight a demon but that doesn't mean you and Jason both have to be completely ruthless the whole time. You'll cut Tim some slack. He can take it anyway. He'll be fine.
You go to take a single step forward, making Tim try to attack and block first. But, you never finish the step. Instead, it only makes Tim come closer to you which makes you grab his arm and spin the two of you around, pinning his arm behind his back. Tim lets out a yell and you let go, going back to your stance.
"Ow." Tim groans at you.
"You're fine. It'll feel better in a minute." You smile back at him. "Come at me."
Tim does as told, trying to land a hit to your head but you block him before he ever gets close and then you kick him in the knee, just hard enough to send him to the ground. You look to Jason. Oh, Tim needs help.
"You told me to come at you." Tim groans. "I thought you were just gonna block."
"Yeah, no." You laughs softly. "Not happening."
"Because the Riddler's not gonna block." Tim almost mocks Jason.
"None of them are going to just block." You correct him. "Your turn, Jay."
Jason takes over again while you grab a Gatorade from the fridge, pulling out one for the boys, too. Jason actually starts teaching now, showing Tim how to properly block and when. He shows him different ways and the best ways. Tim does know some of the blocks, he's just not used to them quite yet which is a relief.
Once Tim seems steady there, you switch with Jason and instead, you block Tim. You show Tim how you do it and how quick it is for you. The thought behind it is that you're not the only one with this. If Tim runs into someone with this power, he needs to know how he's supposed to land a hit. So, that's his job. Watch you, and learn how you block and find a weakness in order to hit. That's what Jason did. Tim only gets somewhat close a few times before Jason and you switch again.
This time, Jason starts teaching Tim how to make contact. Again, Dick has shown Tim some defense which is a help but he hasn't had much time to practice. So, the boys work on that for a few minutes before Jason shows him a few more things. After a few minutes, you switch with Jason. You and Tim go back and forth for a few minutes before Jason decides to up more. You only have a few days to get Tim ready. Now, it's two against one.
"Come on, me against you two?" Tim groans.
You and Jason look between each other and you both shrug as if sharing the same brain.
"No." You both say.
"We're all against each other." Jason answers casually.
"You have to watch what we're both doing not only against each other but when we come for you. No teams. Every man for himself." You state.
The three of you take your positions before Jason gives the go-ahead. The three of you lunge for each other. You hit Jason first, knowing Jason would likely go for Tim first. Is it going a little easy on Tim? Sure. But, you know going all out isn't going to help him, not right now. So, you kick the back of Jason's leg first, giving Tim the opportunity to get one hit to his head. Jason is quick to fight right back, knocking Tim in the face before he turns around, nearly kicking you before you jump out of the way and land a second hit to Tim's chest.
The three of you keep this up for the next half hour. You and Jason try to divide your time between each other and Tim, making sure he's getting plenty of chances to not only try to take you both down but also block the both of you. You're both being careful not to go too hard but make sure you aren't going too easy either. The more you all go, Tim gets tired but he never gives up. About halfway through, Tim gets into his own rhythm, able to block more of you and Jason. He lands a hit to you once while you hit Jason and he hands just a handful of hits to Jason. It builds his confidence anytime he lands anything and blocks one of you.
After a half hour of sparring, the three of you take seats on the floor, bottles of Gatorade right beside all of you as your chests heave. Jason's eyes land on you with your messy hair and the bruise of your eye fading. You have the Gatorade to your lips and he sees the silver chain peaking out from the collar of your t-shirt. There's a bruise on your right bicep, that's more recent but it's not bad. And he watches as you smile and then laugh at Tim as Tim lays back, complaining that he might be dying. There's been something about your smile and your laugh that could make Jason smile even on his worst days. Maybe you are doing better. He really hopes you are. You look so happy.
You get up, Jason unable to peel his eyes away from you. He always loved the way you looked in sweatpants. You have on black joggers that hug your thighs just a little bit and pinch right at your ankles. Your t-shirt is shorter, cutting right at your waist and Jason can't stop staring. He swears you're fucking stunning.
You grab all of you a few of Jason's granola bars and when you turn around, Jason is staring at you. So, you look at the granola bars and then at Jason before you throw one right at his head. It bonks him, causing Tim to burst out into a fit of laughter.
"Something about needing to block or something?" Tim quips, barely finishing his sentence before you and Jason throw a granola bar at him. Tim flails trying to block them unsuccessfully.
You grab a few more before you take your seat back beside Jason, giving him a few granola bars, keeping some for yourself while Tim snacks on the ones the two of you threw at him. It's nice being able to get a little bit of a break. Jason is actually really enjoying this. It feels like old times and he's actually helping. Dick is trusting him to work with you and help make sure Tim is prepared to fight this big bad. That's a big compliment as far as Jason is concerned. And Tim seems to be enjoying himself even if you both are going hard on him. Jason always liked helping train the others and this is throwing him right back but in a good way where he's not bitter about it. He's just glad to help. He feels needed.
And it doesn't hurt that you're here and you're getting along. It feels different than it did before. But, it's really nice. You're both still laughing and you still think the same way. You're still on the same page with everything. It's just nice to be able to spend some time with you and check in on you. Jason has missed you more than words could ever describe and he wonders if you'll be able to keep this going once Tim leaves. He really hopes you can. And he watches you toss another bar at Tim with a smile and he decides, he will try. He'll try to keep this up after Tim leaves.
Just because Tim will leave, doesn't mean you and Jason have to go back to not talking. The not talking was the hard part but now that you are, it feels easy again. It feels like you don't have to give each other space the size of half the damn city. You can do this without having to sacrifice having each other in your lives. Jason decides as he watches you laugh, he's going to keep trying to have you in his life and he hopes you'll have him, too.
The three of them spar for another half hour before Jason teaches Tim more about his staff. Dick was the one who liked the bo staff and Jason wasn't much to rely on it but Bruce made him learn. Jason always thought it was because of Dick but he's realizing it was just preparation to be able to use anything and everything as a weapon just in case. So, you sit back and watch the two of them go back and forth.
Once they're done, Jason sends Tim off to shower first. Jason plops down in the chair beside you as you give him a soft laugh. He's been thinking through this whole training session that maybe you both can step up your game. Tim is going to need to experience based on what Jason has heard about Brother Blood.
"So," Jason clears his throat. "Penguin has a shipment of guns coming in tomorrow night." Jason states.
Your eyes narrow slightly, knowing Jason has an idea of some sort. "Does he?"
Jason nods his head as casually as he can. "Shouldn't be too hard. In and out kind of thing. Grab and leave."
"Uh, huh." You nod, turning to face him with a teasing grin. "Where ya going with this, Jay?"
"Could take Tim." Jason offers, casually before a smirk crosses over his lips as he crosses his arms. His eyes lock on yours. "Wanna?"
"You want us to take Tim on a mission to steal Penguin's guns?" You ask but you think it's a great idea. What better training than an actual mission of some sort?
"Good training. We can watch him and he can watch us. See how it's really done. Especially if he's going to be Robin." Jason offers with ease but he's thinking he really doesn't need to convince you.
A crooked smile creeps on your face. "You know I'd never turn down an opportunity like this." You laugh softly.
"Yeah?" Jason asks, hope in his voice.
"Hell yeah. It'll be fun anyway. I helped you and Bruce with Penguin a couple of times and like once it got a bit dicey. We'll be fine." You beam at him. "I miss fucking with Penguin."
"You would." Jason tilts his head back with a booming laugh and the void in his chest starts to not feel as hollow.
Your smile turns soft and warm with his laugh. You remember back at the tower and how he was treated. There was a lot going on that was bigger than him, bigger than you. But, you think about that and the general disdain everyone had for him at the time and you're watching him laugh now. You always wondered how anyone could feel anything but love for him. How could someone not be completely in love with him? Because you're sitting here feeling just as you always did around him.
You read once that studies suggest it takes three to six months to get over someone, which sounds a little miserable. It has not been even three months but it's been a month and a half and it feels like nothing even wavered in your feelings for him. You're just as in love with him today as you were sitting on the floor of the training room in San Fransisco and maybe that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
"You're having fun, aren't you?" You ask.
Jason grins back over at you. "It's not horrible."
"Uh-huh." You laugh as you shake your head. "Well, you look like you're having a good time." You shrug your shoulders at him as you chew the inside of your cheek. "And thanks to you, Tim will be great."
"Stroking my ego?" Jason quips back. "You get hit in the head too hard?"
"Shut up." You groan as you give him a gentle shove.
"Thank you." Jason laughs softly. "He'll be great because of you, too though, ya know?" Jason questions.
"Awww, now look who's being nice." You tease with the scrunch of your nose.
"I can be nice." Jason smirks right back at you.
"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. "You have your moments." You laugh softly as you check your phone. "Hey, uh.." Your brows furrow. "If we were done for the day, I was gonna head out." You pull in a breath, not really wanting to leave quite yet. "There are some people I wanna check up on before patrol tonight." You explain.
"Yeah, of course." Jason feels the disappointment cloud his chest. "I'll, uh, I'll call you if something goes down and text you the time." Jason nods, careful to let his disappointment show.
"Okay." You smile softly, ready to get the rest of the day over with so you can see him tomorrow. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jay."
"See you tomorrow." Jason smiles softly before you leave the room, allowing Jason to himself for the night.
Tumblr media
prev. chapter | next chapter
Tumblr media
series masterlist | masterlist | tag list
Tumblr media
Tag List: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  //
@makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out //
@velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmesss // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom //
@baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx //
@deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou //
@whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @urmomsgayforme5 // @septixtrash //
@kplatzman // @killxz // @lovefks // @laurelthesimp // @strawberryforks //
@mxtokko // @kolpvii // @adorabluesposts // @jasontoddthings // @bbiaa420
59 notes · View notes
viburnt · 7 months
Note
So hear me out! You did leopard touya and i FELL IN LOVE how about a lion or tiger bakugou tho🫢
LISTEN- HEAR ME OUT-
CONTENT WARNING: SEX, BREEDING, POLYGAMY, MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY
Lion! Bakugo SFW+NSFW
Lions, kings of the jungle: known for their manes and imponent roar, basking in a reputation a bit too big for them. Lion! Bakugo boasts about his skill and power, even more than normally, that is. Adding a Lion to this blond only accentuates his egocentric behavior, but there are some new traits to discover with this hybrid.
Lion! Bakugo is all roar and no bite. He yells and curses, and pretends to be the leader, but lions (specially male ones) take care and try to provide for their prides (in this case, his clique).
Lion! Bakugo can't bear the thought of having other guys close to you. You're his partner, not some pesky pray for others to take! He keeps a close eye on who your friends are and who you are with, defending his territory. This hybrid is also very possessive; if you had a previous partner, he'll make sure to get rid of any trace of them.
Talking about territory, lions get extremely defensive with their stuff: he doesn't share. Once Lion! Bakugo starts feeling comfortable in a determined space (like an specific lunch table, library spot or your/his bedroom) he'll make sure others know that area is his as soon as he steps into the room. Oh, you wanna sit in his spot? How dare you?!
Did I mention lions are polygamous? Both sexes are. Bakugo doesn't really practice it because you're more than enough to breed and form a family, but sometimes (just sometimes) certain redhead is added to the mix. He doesn't allow you to have more partners though, female lions can only have one or two males to mate.
Mating season is intense, to say the least, Lion! Bakugo tries to breed you multiple times a day. Alone at the library? He may be bashful but he'll sit you in his lap. After training? Don't worry, he doesn't mind a bit of sweat. Are you doing homework? You could work on his cock too, right? Prone bone is his go-to position, right where he can bury his girth deep inside you while also having access to your body.
He wants to knock you up so bad.
Lion! Bakugo is also strangely affectionate towards you outside of his rut, planting chaste kisses on your face and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He is very calm and easy-going with you when you compare his behavior with others, you can even say he relaxes with you.
Going back to how this species accentuate his self centered traits, however, Lion! Bakugo is even more hated by others than normal. There's not a second where he is not talking big game about him and his strength.
He roars (unironically).
Also, one of the main predators lions have are hyenas... remember who is a hyena hybrid? Shiggy. Suits him right considering how he was kidnapped by the league.
Lion! Bakugo also has an even messier hair, a lion tail, and matching ears. His body is a bit more sturdy and even has a bit of a tummy because, well, cat pouches. He's still such a pretty thing to look at!
"Bend your legs a little more-" Bakugo growls, tightening the grip on your hips as he pulls you closer to him. You lost the count of how many times he's had his way with you that day alone, his thrusts making your legs weak.
You pant, looking at him over your shoulder. "Fuck, you're gonna give me a cub soon, I promise..." He grunts, hissing as he digs his nails onto your plush skin, painting your insides white once more.
You have to change your sheets.
Tags: @i-literally-cant-with-this @shonen-brainrot @doumadono @imagination-mess @trickster-kat @shionancientsblog
88 notes · View notes
idkfitememate · 9 months
Text
Welcome To Aperture Science
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! GLaDOS Reader x Raiden Shogun, Kujo, Aether, Dottore & Maillardet
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 6.5k
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Reader is a insane robot, Mutilation, descriptive gore
໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I ran into a bit of a dilemma in writing this. I realized that a lot of you probably would be able to get into the role of you were called “GLaDOS”, so here’s the plan. I tried my hardest to not have to use (y/n), but me thinks I’m gonna have to. The actual operating system will be called “GLaDOS”, but you yourself will be called (y/n). You’re replacing Caroline & GLaDOS. There will be a little surprise - since this is my ver of Portal (AKA throwing Portal into Genshin), so you’ll be introduced as (y/n)! If this ruins the experience, please let me know, and I’ll come up with something different! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
Also! GORE WARNING!!!! THERE WILL BE GORE!! I’ll post a warning right before it starts and a little thing for where it ends!! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა
Tumblr media
Finding out one of your islands is being used for things unknown is not something you want to wake up too.
But unfortunately, that was what Miss. Raiden Ei was subjected to this morning.
The apparent “island” wasn’t even actually an island. It looked like a small plot of land, with it’s only inhabitant being an old bot that resembled a Fontainian Meka - which was still active and very dangerous - and what looked to be some kind of small, one person hut. But when the fishermen who had found this island somehow managed to enter the hut, they found it actually housed a long, winding staircase that plummeted into the earth.
So of course this news was sent straight to Ei. As the Archon, anything that went on in her Nation’s boundaries that wasn’t documented was immediately brought up to her for investigation. In any other case she would have told the Tenryou Commission to take care of it or otherwise, but seeing as this was seemingly more than just a “island descending into the depths” - the fishermen also reported strange noises coming from below - this seemed like it would need to be handled with a more… direct touch.
Gathering her wits, she made a small “exploration team”. This team consisted of:
1. The Traveler, because why wouldn’t it
2. Kujo Sara, her loyalty will be of use
3. Maillardet, she had heard of his helping with the Icewind Suite Meka. His expertise may be needed.
And finally, though unfortunately,
4. Dottore.
As much as she may have detested the Fatui and their methods, she couldn’t deny they got results. And on top of that she had heard of his experiments on that of Ruin Guards, which again may be needed.
After making her plans and sending off letters to all she believed she may need, the Shogun began to wait.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍯୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
It was dark in the Aperture Science building. Though it wasn’t silent. After word from the singular guard at one of many openings alerted human sightings after… years of nothing, you had to admit something inside you was excited.
It was in human and monster nature to be curious of the unknown. And with all the years since your last… nuisance test subject, you figured that Aperture may have been - more likely was - forgotten by those above.
You rapidly repaired test room after test room, rebuilding the facility to the best of your current abilities. Which wasn’t much a problem, because due to the lack of human error, you were able to keep the place up and running with extreme precision.
It looked just like when Aperture was first built.
With different power sources from every nation, keeping powered on was never an issue. The location that had been found by humans was the one that was powered by the never ending lightning storm that surrounded the nation of Inazuma.
The strikes of Electro traveled through the water into sensors placed on the ocean floor, that changed the pure Electro into actual electricity that was then used to power the specific part of Aperture Science that was stationed below it.
The real facility spanned all across Teyvat.
This was only the beginning.
And your cold heart was more than ready for this coming future.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍫🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
“I am shocked than and Archon such as yourself has called for me.”
All heads in the room turned to face the masked male.
Kujo immediately summoned her bow and pointed it at the man, while Traveler did the same with his sword. Poor Maillardet only ran behind the armed female, clutching her skirt.
Kujo glanced at him before pushing all attention back on Dottore.
“Please lower your weapons.” Heads whipped to look at the sullen voice of Ei.
“I asked him to be here. Please do not make this experience more difficult than it already may be.” Even she seemed… less than enthused by her actions, but the sudden silence- to soak up her words - was interrupted by the man in question’s laughter.
“And how shocked I was when The Tsaritsa said the Electro Archon herself had asked for my assistance in a ‘pressing matter’! Please, do listen to her and try to not make this difficult?” His grin unwavering. Aether scoffed and Kujo only huffed a small ‘Yes, my Shogun’, before turning to her backseat passenger who hadn’t moved since Dottore’s appearance.
“… What?” The brunette asked. Then he sighed. “Just because I build fighters doesn’t mean I myself can fight, Madame.” He quickly pushed himself off her and dusted both her and him off.
With one more sigh, Ei stood.
“Let us not waste anymore time. There is an odd island off the coast of Amakane Island. On it is a single individual that resembles a Fontainian Meka, and a hut. The odd thing being that this hut holds a staircase that “plummets into the earth”, so say my sources.” She then looked at the Doctor.
“Have your men done anything to this island?” It was a fair question.
It wouldn’t be odd for the Fatui to have a lab or something of the sort in a Nation without the Archon or Nation’s knowledge. In fact, it wouldn’t be the first time. Though - again - Dottore only laughed again.
“No, Miss. Ei. We haven’t any labs that “plummet into the earth”, as you say.” Kujo flinched at him not referring to her Archon by her title, but before she could do anything, she was stopped by a look from said Archon.
“Thank you for being honest,” she hummed, “Then we best be off. Who knows what we shall find and who knows how long we may be.” And she started off.
Following behind her was everyone but Maillardet, who looked confused.
“No equipment? No food provisions?” He glanced a guard who was stationed at a door nearby who shrugged. They both sighed and spoke in unison.
“Vision holders…”
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍬🧁୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Making their way to Amakane Island was easy enough. Making their way to the unnamed island was also easy.
The Meka that was guarding the small hut was… tall, to say the least.
“It looks vaguely like a Suppression Specialist Mek mixed with an Assault Specialist Mek…” Maillardet muttered, causing Dottore’s head to whip in his direction.
“So nothing you’ve seen before?” He mused, causing the Fontainian to glare at him.
“No.” He huffed, “It isn’t.” Dottore smirked at that answer.
“Then we have an unknown Meka on our hands? Perhaps made by someone outside of Fontaine-“ “No.” Maillardet interrupted.
“It still has hints of Fontainian handiwork. The way you can see some gears and cogs, as well as the fact that it’s utilizing Fontaine gun tech. It very well could be imbued with Arkeh energy. If I had to guess, Ousia.”
Everyone stared at the man, who blushed.
“What I’m trying to say,” he breathed, “Is that while it’s not any Meka I’ve ever seen, it’s definitely made by Fontainian hands. Sir Aether should know how to deal with it effectively.” Dottore stared at the man.
Aether nodded and jumped off the boat they all currently inhabited, and began to attack. The others stayed back and watched as he gracefully dodged attacks and fought back.
Though, in a sudden switch of attack, the bullets firing from the cannon on its arm changed to Electro-Charged pellets of water. The sudden swap shocked Aether and the Mek was able to land a few solid hits on the man.
Getting fed up, Kujo stood to fight, but Ei held her back.
“Those are Electro-Charged attacks.” “I understand Shogun but-“ “No. We’d only make things worse.” With a huff, the tengu sat down, glaring at the Doctor who dared to chuckle.
The fight continued on for a few more minutes before Aether came out triumphant. As the Mek collapsed, a voice rung out from its destroyed body.
“Warn…ing…Intruders At….Inazuma Ent…rance…Access Not Given…Send Warning To GL…a…” Before finally collapsing. Aether stood overtop its corpse before turning to the others.
“Well… I suppose we can continue onward?” Maillardet questioned, only to be met with everyone else in the boat jumping out onto dry land, once more leaving him behind.
The man grumbled as he slowly pulled himself out the boat, soaking his boots and pants.
By the time he made it, everyone but Dottore had made their way into the hut, on their way down.
“After you.” The bluenette grinned, and Maillardet shuddered.
And then they all made their decent.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍯🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
While the staircase itself was long and narrow, surrounded on all sides by pipes and cogs, what they found at the bottom was truly a sight; though they had been going down for a while.
A large open space - like a courtyard. There was artificial sunlight that streamed in from the panels on the ceiling that simulated a blue sky. False grass and trees swayed in a deceptive breeze. A ‘building’ sat before them with glass doors. It was grey and unassuming, the words “Aperture Science Laboratories” was in big lettering above the doors in big, illuminated lighting.
“Incredible…” Dottore mumbled as the group began to make their way down a path that led from the staircase to the building.
Just then, a sharp creaking noise was heard, and the staircase they had just traversed began to retract. It slowly made its way upward, lifting off the ground. Without flinching, Kujo summoned her bow and knocked an arrow, looking for a place to shoot. Finding a button near the staircase labeled ‘emergency shut down’, she shot, hitting it head on.
“Sudden Power Surge Detected At: Inazuma Docking Station. Rerouting Power Surge To Backup Power Supply’s. Emergency Dock Closing System: Initiated.”
And with that, the stairs shot up, effectively sealing the group inside.
“Sorry, Shogun…” was the only thing that left the now embarrassed Kujo’s lips.
“Worry not, I am sure we’ll find another exit eventually. Let us continue forth.” And onward they went.
Walking down the path, Dottore noted that there were hills far beyond the little building before them, fading off into the distance.
“I wonder how long this facility stretches out?..” He wondered aloud. Maillardet grumbled under his breath.
“Hopefully not that far…”
Entering the building they were met with something none of them - minus Dottore - had experienced.
Fluorescent lighting.
The light outside had at least been convincing, but the buzzing overhead and the slight flickering was enough to get under everyone’s - again, minus Dottore’s - skin.
“Whatever is this awful-“
“Welcome, gentleman, to Aperture Science. Humans, Vision Holders, War-Hero’s, Hybrids — you’re here because we want the best, and you’re it. Now, who’s ready to make some science?”
Weapons were immediately drawn from hearing the unusual voice.
“Who dared cut of The Shogun-“
“Now, you already met one another on the boat ride over, so let me introduce myself. I’m Cave Johnson. I own the place.”
Kujo growled.
“Well, Mr. “Cave Johnson”, I recommend you reveal yourself before we-“
“Mr. Johnson! I believe you’re forgetting something..? Or rather, someone..?”
All heads turned to the wall length screen that turned on with the new voice.
They were met with a cartoonish figure of a person, though their head was replaced by the grey, circle logo of Aperture. They were dressed in a white button up with a black vest overtop. With pure black dress pants and black dress shoes. A snow white lab coat over their shoulders and pure white gloves on their hands. The only hint of color or their person was an orange tie.
Dottore was the first to walk over, pressing a gloved hand to the screen.
“This is all absolutely incredible…” he spoke with a grin.
Nobody noticed how the figure flinched away.
“That eager voice you heard is the lovely (y/n), my assistant. They were added as a safety protocol in case some of you get lost. There are screens all of Aperture where they can keep a close eye on you, to make sure you stay in one piece, or at least as close to one piece as we can get you. Now, rest assured, they have transferred your honorarium to the charitable organization of your choice, isn’t that right, (y/n)?”
The figure on the screen - now known as (y/n) - nodded. Or… nodded as best a 2D model may be able to nod.
“That’s right, Mr. Johnson.”
“Since their addition, they have been the backbone of this facility. Pretty as a postcard too. Sorry fellas, they’re married. To science.”
They watched as you walked over on the “screens”, trotting all the way over to a pair of double doors. With one arm behind you, you held an open palm in the direction of said doors.
“Now, if you just follow them, they’ll take you right to the testing sites.”
With that small tidbit of information, the group reluctantly walked their way over to the doors. Pushing through them, they watched as you faded on the other side. Only for the walls of the hallway surrounding them to light up with bright white light, and for you to be on their right side, walking down the hall on your screens.
“There’s a thousand tests performed everyday here in our enrichment spheres. I can’t personally oversee every single one of them, so these pre-recorded messages’ll cover any questions you might have, and respond to any incidents that may occur in the course of your science adventure!”
You continued walking down the long hall, it slowly dipping further and further into the earth, but not to an alarming degree. A tune played throughout the hall, your head bobbing to the beat.
“Recorded..?” Ei asked. She turned to Kujo and Aether, who both shrugged. She then turned to Maillardet who muttered a quick ‘I’ve heard of it… that’s all…’ then looked away. Finally she looked towards Dottore.
“… Recordings are a rather new technology I’ve discovered. It’s a lost technique from long ago, the act of taking the waves of one’s voice down onto a physical form - such as a disk or a vinyl - and relaying those waves through a certain machine to recreate noises. I’ve been able to get my hands on a few, but to find one of such large scale, with moving images to boot! If I can get my hands on whatever is relaying these recordings…” His voice toned back when he realized he was walking alone.
Turning back he noticed that everyone had stopped behind him, confusion written all over their faces. He groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes before dragging it down the side of his face.
“It refers to something hearing noise, then relaying it at a later time when prompted.” And on they continued. It took a moment to catch up to you, as you had continued on your merry way while they had been stopped.
When they made it, Cave Johnson began speaking again.
“Your test assignments will vary, depending on the manner in which you have bent the world to your will.”
They finally made it to the end of the hall, with double doors greeting them. The doors opened automatically, opening to a large space, akin to an auditorium. Doors led off to different halls, each closed off by double doors that were identical to the ones they just came through. The room was surrounded by the Aperture logo, with small tables set up with small experiments on them. Walking past, Maillardet’s eyes glanced at a potato battery.
The most obvious thing in the room were the blue and yellow lines on the floor that each led to another room. You popped up again on a few overhead screens, though now you were sitting at a desk, typing away. You occasionally took a sip from a grey cup.
“Those of you helping us test the repulsion gel today, just follow the blue lines on the floor. Those of you who volunteered to be injected with praying mantis DNA I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”
Lights lit up over the blue lines and your figure changed to a looping recording of you walking on the lines and through the door.
“Injected with praying mantis DNA… why would you ever..?” Maillardet wondered with a grimace, while Dottore only smirked.
“I think me and this Mr. Johnson may have something in common. Anything in the name of science.” His grin made Aether shiver.
“Can we please just move on?” The blonde growled. He turned to the two females, only to find Kujo trying to open another door with Ei beside her.
“What are you doing..?” He asked. The General exhaled before turning back to the group.
“Trying to find another way out. Why are we even listening to this Cave Johnson person? We don’t know who he is, we don’t know where he is, we don’t even know what he looks like.” She walked over to another set of doors and tugged.
“She has a point.” Said Ei. “But in that same breath, we don’t know where we are either. The only thing pushing us forward is the voice of Mr. Johnson.” She placed a hand on the tengu’s shoulder.
“I feel it may be in our best interest to listen for now. When we find an exit, we’ll leave immediately.” Kujo sighed and muttered an apology before turning to the blue lines.
The loop of your walking through the doors still played above as everyone filled through the doors.
“Bad news, we’re postponing those tests indefinitely. Good news is we have a much better test for you: fighting an army of mantis men.”
“WHAT?!-“ shouted Maillardet. “WHY WOULD YOU EVER-“ A hand was slapped over his mouth as Dottore shushed him.
“I want to hear the rest of this.” he whispered.
“Pick up a rifle and follow the yellow line. You’ll know when the test starts.”
“Oh Mr. Johnson…” Dottore swooned.
“Only a rifle..?” Maillardet whimpered.
Kujo groaned. “Don’t worry about that now. We’re following the blue lines. Not the yellow ones.” Ei grinned slightly at the banter.
“They say great science is built on the shoulder of giants. Not here. At Aperture, we do all our science from scratch. No hand holding.”
“I really do like this man.” Dottore grinned.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍫🍦୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Walking along the catwalks was a new feeling. Despite the no longer being really… anywhere… there were still screens nearby that depicted you walking along side the group.
Little to no effort was made to make any kind of conversation. Just the sounds of different kinds of shoes hitting the metal that made up the catwalks.
Though that all changed within a moment.
“Hello..? Hello??”
The sudden voice calling out made everyone come to a stop. Aether brandished his sword and turned to a pair of doors that led off the path they were being led down.
They waited with bated breath as the mechanical whirling of something moving towards them echoed in the open space. The walls themselves seemed to shift as whatever it was made its way to the door…
The doors burst open as a spherical robot with a bright blue eye pushed its way through the doors, pausing when it saw the group.
“Humans..? Humans?? Humans!! Wait… HUMANS?!?!” Its confound shock was extremely apparent, especially with the way it screamed out.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE?!?! I haven’t seen a human since… since… her…” It’s tone grew somber within a second, but then it shook on its… bar??? Grip??? Dottore wanted to know.
“That doesn’t matter, what matters is that you guys are humans! Actual, genuine humans!” It rolled forward on its… whatever and faced them.
“… None of you have the portal gun though.. oh. Do you have those ‘vision’ things? Because I can assure you they won’t be of much help here-”
“And why is that?” Dottore jumped in.
“… Well first off all, it was incredibly rude to cut me off there, secondly, Aperture focused on the sciences that… well, had to do with those who lacked visions. Now don’t get me wrong, there were certainly tests for those who had them but uh… yeah these were mostly for those without.” It nodded.
“I see… now. Do you happen to have a name. Or would you tell us what you are?” The Doctor asked.
“A name..? Right! Oh gosh, I completely forgot about that. Wheatley’s the name and… yeah I don’t know where that was going really. And to answer the other question, I am what’s known as a core, but where are you lot off to?” He introduced. Though before the blue haired doctor could answer, a voice rung out.
“They’re off to test with the repulsion gel, Wheatley.” Your voice ring out, and there you were on the screen, facing them with a hand on your hip. The core seemed the freeze up at your voice, which didn’t go unnoticed.
“Oh! Uh… hey… (y/n)… hehe.” Wheatley seemed uncomfortable at now knowing of your presence, before something seemed to pop into his head.
“But… without the portal gun?”
“You don’t necessarily need a-“
“What’s a portal gun?” Maillardet questioned. You heaved a long sigh and Wheatley seemed to brighten up.
“We’ll only one of, if not the, best things Aperture has ever made, of course! It’s this nifty little gun that allows a person to go from one point, to another in just a snap!.. If I could snap I would to punctuate my point-“
“What he means-“ You interrupted, “Is that it is a special device that allows someone to manipulate space itself by opening up a doorway - otherwise known as a portal - and go from an unreachable point A to unreachable point B… or at the very least a vision-less ‘someone’. We weren’t able to test on those with a vision… or any non-humans with human intelligence; such as Oni from Inazuma or Adepti from Liyue. But even then our knowledge is… limited…”
Wheatley stared at you as you explained the Portal Gun in detail, before scanning the group.
“Oh! There is a vision-less with you!”
Maillardet swallowed nervously.
“Here, you won’t be at a disadvantage if you let us give you the Portal Gun! No need to feel like you may be falling behind… bloody hell you might even be able to go ahead and be advantaged in this situation!” The blue eyed bot explained.
“Wait wait wait… are either of you… alive or uh..” Aether stumbled over his words before you cut him off impatiently.
“Yes we are entirely sentient. Now Wheatley, we can’t make these decisions-“
“I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’ve been moping about for years! All because you ‘don’t have any human testers’ and ‘robots were starting to get the same results’ and ‘humans unpredictability made them unique’ and-“
“That’s enough, you idiot.” “HEY!-“ “Fine. Here’s how this will work, so be quiet and listen.”
Nobody moved.
“We will give your little friend access to The Portal Gun, you complete a couple tests for us, and we help you leave as fast as possible. Deal?”
“Well it doesn’t sound like we get much out of that deal besides our assured exit.” Ei stated, and you groaned.
“You’ll have access to technologies that those above this facility have not had access to for years. Plus, this will practically be free training. Now do we have a deal?” Your impatience was starting to grow clearer and clearer with each passing moment.
“Well-“ “YES!” Maillardet screamed. He didn’t care. This was his chance to truly make a name for himself. If he was able to get this ‘Portal Gun’ outside of the facility, the things he may be able to do with that tech…
Everyone looked at him with shock - though Dottore was more amused than anything - at how fast he agreed.
“Great! Wonderful even! Here, just follow me through here and we’ll get you right as rain, isn’t that right (y/n)?” Wheatley glanced at you as he turned on his rail. If you could, you would’ve rolled your eyes.
They watched as the screen you stood on blinked off, and Wheatley rolled away.
Maillardet followed behind and the others hesitated. Though after that moment of hesitation, they followed behind as well.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍯🍮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Instead of the grey halls and metal walls they had become accustom to, they were met with greenage and foliage on all sides.
Flora of all kinds blossomed around them, tress that reached higher than any of them could see. They all followed behind the humming core, until he suddenly stopped.
“Now, this is a bit awkward, but my rail system ends here. I’m gonna let go, but I need someone to catch me. Do we have any volunteers..?” Wheatley informed and asked. He looked around the group only to make eye contact with Dottore. Who was grinning. Sharp teeth fully on display.
“Uhm… anyone..?” The robot squeaked. Though the only one who moved closer was Dottore.
He sighed, then ‘steeled’ his nerves.
“Alright, I’ll let go on the count of three- NO, ONE! If I do it on three I’ll chicken out and… mmmm I’m talking to much aren’t I? I’m nervous because of the very real possibility that you may drop me. Not to say you look weak or anything, you actually look quite strong. Has anyone ever told you that? I mean, personally I would prefer to be strong if I had a body… On that note I wished they gave us hands. That’d be nice. Or a way to move while not on the rail systems. They can only go so many places and so far, you know? And some of them end in the oddest of places. I found one that ended over a bottomless pit. Isn’t that just insane? I mean-“
Dottore grumbled something under his breath before moving directly below the blabbering bot. Then he cleared his throat, and screamed:
“ONE!”
The high pitched scream Wheatley let out as he fell would’ve been able to convince anyone that he was actually a girl. Dottore’s knees nearly buckled under the sheer weight of the still screaming robot in his arms. After finding his footing, they all stared at Wheatley, who continued to scream for a solid minute before realizing he wasn’t falling anymore.
“AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa…. Oh. You caught me. That’s a first- Anyway, directions! You’re going to want to follow the greyed out path through the green, and you’ll find a platform behind some broken walls and such. I’ll admit, when you get there it’s a bit of a jump, but I have faith in you lot!” He… grinned??? Well it was as close to a grin as a giant metal eyeball could get.
Everyone hummed in response and continued to trek on. Every now and then Dottore or Ei would ask about a type of flower or plant they saw, only for Wheatley to say he’s neither the flower nor plant core. Which led to Dottore asking about cores and Wheatley offering an explanation.
“Cores are… well to put it in perspective think of the basic parts of your personality. Of what makes you, you. Cores are basically that! We work as the pure forms of interests or emotions. Such as the flower core, who only ever talks about flowers. Or the anger core who… uhm… well. He screams? I guess?” Wheatley answered.
“So… what do you embody? Fear? Worry? Rambling?” Dottore asked, only for Wheatley to shout in objection.
“No! Absolutely not! None of those things! In fact, just for that, I don’t think I want to tell you.” He spun his eye around as to not look at the man carried him, causing Dottore to chuckle.
Maillardet suddenly shot ahead, causing everyone to quickly follow after. Wheatley seemed to understand why he shot ahead.
“There she is.” He muttered.
Just behind a wall, there it was.
Placed on a pedestal, vines and flowers grew all around in a mesmerizing pattern. A small hole in the roof let a halo of light fall onto the midsized device.
It was sleek. It was shiny. White and black mixed together in a perfect blend.
“Isn’t it beautiful? The pride of Aperture. What nearly all of our resources went into after its conception.” Wheatley mused. His focus was entirely on the gun in front of them.
Though his previous statement was true, there was a rather large drop from the platform they were on and the platform the Gun was on.
“You can drop me here.” The core suddenly spoke. Dottore looked down with a bit of a scowl.
“Weren’t you the one who screamed like a baby at falling only about four feet?” He asked. Wheatley scoffed.
“That was the make sure you’d catch me… anyway, I know I can survive this fall. I’ve survived worse. Just drop me and then jump down. It’ll be easier that way.” Wheatley’s voice suddenly got very serious. it lost its lively charm and became something more robotic… which was ironic.
The robot started acting more robotic, and they felt uncomfortable about it.
Dottore scoffed, then dropped the core without care. Though this time, Wheatley didn’t make a sound, just a small grunt when he hit the floor.
‘It can physically feel..?’ Dottore wondered.
Then one by one, they jumped down - Aether catching Maillardet - and began their walk over to the Gun after Dottore picked up Wheatley again.
“Hold on.” The blue eyes core suddenly spoke. His eye turned to a wall, and the panels suddenly shifted. A small control panel pushed itself out, presenting itself to the group.
“Plug me in there. I can make sure nothing hostile happens to pass by.” He explained.
“Hostile..?” Ei questioned and Wheatley, suddenly seeming very tired, sighed.
“Yes. Hostile. Just- Don’t worry about it, okay? I promise nothing will happen.” He glanced back at the group with a drooped eye. Dottore placed him on the panel.
Electricity shot out for a moment, then the core settled. He looked back, then without a word, got pulled back into the wall.
“It looks… so mesmerizing…” Maillardet whispered. He was the closest to the Gun. He hesitantly reached a hand out and touched it. Then, he picked it up and got a grip on it.
“I can’t say I’ve ever shot a gun but…” The mechanic pointed the gun at a wall, away from everyone as they watched.
He shot the gun.
And everyone watched as a pure black circle surrounded by blue latched onto the wall.
Everyone stood in shock.
He hesitantly shot right next to the blue and was met with a circle of orange.
Though now he could see through both.
And they reflected the room back to him.
He walked closer and looked through one and saw everyone looking back at him in silent disbelief.
He stuck a hand through the blue portal.
And watched his hand exit the orange.
He fell back in shock and everyone ran closer. They gathered around him, awe and shock written all across their faces.
“This is…” Dottore spoke.
“… A revelation.” Maillardet finished.
“Truly, isn’t it?”
The third voice broke everyone out of their stupor. They watched as the walls fluctuated and moved, opening the room up into another.
It was dark - pitch black, save for the screen that had only your figure on it. You stared at the group before moving your attention to the Portal Gun.
“Such an expensive piece of equipment it is… hopefully you understand what I’m about to do is only in your best interests.”
The screens blipped off, and a hole in the center of the room opened, a disgusting orange red glow emanating from it.
“Preparations Made. Systems Online. Ready For Emergency Long Fall Boot Insertion. Is Moderator Ready?”
“Yes.” Your voice rung out.
“Participant Ready?”
Before anyone could speak, you spoke for them.
“Participant is ready.”
“All Parties Set. Commencing Insertion.”
˚ʚ ꒰GORE WARNING!! GORE STARTS HERE!!꒱ ɞ˚
Metal wires suddenly shot out from the floor, causing everyone who could to summon weapons. Unfortunately, you had a plan for that.
Your wires shot out and gripped the visions on everyone who had one, but tightly wrapped around both Aether and Ei, quickly picking them up and throwing them into walls.
“Stand down, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” You warned.
The wires quickly wrapped around the ankles of Maillardet, dragging him forward and making him drop the Gun. Kujo rushed forward but a wire wrapped around her and threw her to the ground.
“Last. Warning.” You said.
They were forced to watch as the vision less man was strapped down to a table that came up front the pit by those wires. Buzz saws and bone saws and needles and others rose from the hole in the ground.
Wires tore at his pants and ripped the boots off his struggling body.
“This is going to hurt. A lot. I don’t personally believe in anesthesia, but feel free to pass out.”
And with that, the first saw turned on and immediately buried itself in his leg, blood spraying and his screams ripping themselves out his throat. You could practically hear the tendons snapping as he cried.
It went until it hit bone, where you moved the buzz saw out of his leg with a sickening *squelch*, pressing the saw into his bone and quickly sawing through.
Everyone - of course, minus Dottore - did their best to look away from the scene, but Kujo couldn’t help the whimper that left her lips when some blood spattered on her face.
After bone, the buzz saw when back to work until the odd cut was completed. It was curved, leaving the front of the lower leg untouched, but the back - up to the upper caff - was completely removed, as well as the ankle and leg. Then the process started all over on the next leg.
“Did you know there was once a surgery with a 300% mortality rate? It was an amputation, much like this one, preformed by a Mr. Robert Liston over two hundred years ago. What happened was his patient died of an infection, his assistant also died of an infection after his fingers had been amputated accidentally, and a witness of shock after the knife came too close. Isn’t that interesting?”
Your words echoed through the chamber over the cries of Maillardet who just lost his other lower leg.
The two amputated leg parts were picked up by robotic claws which threw them into the hole below. Then, two odd looking boots were raised from said hole.
The class took the boots apart and began to assemble them on the man’s body. They were a solid white with black base and a weird black wire at rhetorical back.
The screams grew worse - then silent after Maillardet finally passed out due to pain - as the black wire - which was connected to the black base - was drilled into what was left of the bone. The wire was then shifted, then grafted into the muscle and bone.
The white part was reattached to the black, the straps tightening against what was left of the skin, before it was literally melted onto the boot.
The smell of burning skin, bones and blood filled the room.
“See, wasn’t that easy?”
His body was thrown off the table and next to the Gun.
The wires let go of everyone, and Aether landed on the floor, passed out.
˚ʚ ꒰GORE OVER GORE OVER!! YOU’RE SAFE!!꒱ ɞ˚
“Why aren’t my abilities working..?” Ei wondered aloud while helping Kujo to her feet.
“You think I wouldn’t recognize a God? News Travels, Beel. We have a few protocols in case a God were to ever wonder into our wonderful facility, but I don’t think I feel like telling you exactly what’s happening to you.”
She quickly looked up above the still open hole in the ground with a glare.
“Stop being a coward and reveal yourself.” She hissed.
“If you insist.”
The lights suddenly turned on, blinding all who were awake.
Dottore stared on in wonder at your body. It resembled that of a human who was suspended from the ceiling. Legs pressed together and arms bound behind them with their back to the floor.
It was the most beautiful piece of machinery he had ever seen.
You slowly turned to face them, the orange light of your eye glaring down at them.
“Let me formally introduce myself, this time without the assistance of a recording. This body you see before you has been dubbed the “Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System”. GLaDOS for short. Though if you prefer it, (y/n) is not off the table.”
“Where… is Wheatley?” Kujo suddenly asked.
“I figured you wouldn’t like him. How shocking you ask. But if you must know… You’re free to reveal yourself.” You mussed.
Silently, the core rode in on a rail in the background on a catwalk. He looks away.
“You’ve payed me back enough, moron. You no longer hold a debt.”
The room was silent.
He had… he betrayed them?
People he didn’t even know?
“… I still feel the itch, you know..?”
Your large head turned to face the blue eyed core.
“I know I’m not the smartest… but I still feel
The itch. It’s like it’s at the back of my brain… and you know what needs to be done to fix it. Please allow me to stay. I won’t… I won’t muck up as bad as I did last time.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
He felt bad and everyone could tell, but you knew that the need to test was able to push back all other thoughts. All other emotions.
It changed people. No matter if they were made of flesh or metal.
And addiction is an addiction. No matter what.
It wouldn’t go away with a bit of cold turkey quitting. That always came with side effects.
The silence was deafening.
If you could smile, you would.
“If you want. I may have final say, but my control over the cores is loose.”
Your gaze turned back to the group who had huddled themselves in a corner, glaring at you.
But you noticed Dottore was staring with less hatred and more… curiosity.
Like a child.
“You understand why I did what I did, don’t you?” Your voice was cold, yet still somehow held some kind of twisted warmth.
“It was to make him stronger. He can survive tests without a hitch now. As soon as he recovers, we’ll be able to continue testing without a hitch. You’ll each be given a relaxation pod while we wait. I’ll be holding up the end of my deal.” You turned away and focused on the screens behind you.
“What… are you..?” Ei asked.
“I thought I answered that question. I am GLaDOS. I am (y/n). I am the current head of Aperture Science.” You turned back to the group.
“And as long as you’re here under my care, I can assure you that we’ll have loads of fun.“
Everyone who was awake was suddenly knocked out by the gas you had been silently filled the room with.
It was time for testing to begin.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I hope this is good! Ima be honest, don’t know if any of the explanations for anything that was explained make sense lol. Also, don’t forget to tell me if you were okay with the whole (y/n) thing! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
This is just in case nothing more gets requested: (y/n)’s transformation went like this: human (Cave’s assistant), mascot (first take on GLaDOS-like system, success), GLaDOS (Cave asked for them [they retained their human personality and memories as the mascot] to be GLaDOS while he was dying, like in the cannon)
Now I’m gonna spend some time on Requests! After which I’ll start on Mora!Creator! Again, I hope you enjoyed! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚
And don’t be scared to request any Automation Reader (Executioner or GLaDOS) okay bye-
123 notes · View notes
athanza · 5 months
Text
Starlett - Part 2
Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)
Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some Cooper dad fluff because why not ♡
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse and (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence
This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡
Part 1 | Part 3 | Final part
Tumblr media
2296
The harsh sun was setting now which meant he needed to find somewhere to settle in for the night. The rickety second floor of one of these buildings would be the best option so he'd have a good vantage point if something were to happen.
As he searched for the right building he began to hear muffled screaming coming from further in the crumbled town. At first, he couldn't give a rat's ass, but he needed to know if it was a big enough threat for him to keep moving.
It didn't take long for gunshots to begin ringing out through the ruins, but they were only from 3 separate guns...then 2...then 1.
As he reached the area where the shots were coming from, the sounds of a pissed off Yao Guai became apparent, and there was one singular person left to fight it off but she looked like she was badly injured.
"You son of a bitch!!" She yelled when her gun jammed and the wounded beast readied itself for another charge.
As it lunged at her one more time a shotgun shell slammed into the side of it's head and it went down, a pink mist left in the air for a moment as the rest of it's brains splattered to the ground.
The woman turned to where the shot came from to see Cooper walking casually towards her, unable to see his face very well in the dark. She pointed her now un-jammed rifle at him just in case.
"Those things'll kill ya." He quipped.
"Yeah, no shit." She replied, wincing at the pain from a gash on her side.
He cocked his head a little. Her voice sounded familiar.
"Why don't you put down that gun so I can cut myself some bear hide and be on my way?"
She scoffed. "So you can shoot me in the face and steal all my shit? No thanks cowboy."
That was it, the confirmation he didn't think he'd get.
"Irene?" He said.
The woman paused briefly, then aimed her gun properly. "How do you know my name?"
He stepped a little closer so that the light from the lantern on the ground could illuminate his face.
It took her a moment but she recognised his eyes and immediately lowered her weapon.
"Cooper?"
Tumblr media
2077
A scream woke Cooper up in the middle of the night and he instinctively got up and ran to his daughter's room.
"Daddy!" Janey cried when she saw him.
He came over and hugged her tightly. "Hey, hey, it's ok, it was just a dream, you're ok."
She cried into him for a moment before spluttering "Why don't you and mommy love each other anymore?"
That caught him off guard. He had no idea what to say and it hurt so much hearing her say that.
"It's not that we don't love each other honey, it's just..." He tried desperately to search for the right words. "Well...your mom and I just disagree on somethin' really important and we tried to figure it out but it was too hard."
"What did you disagree on?"
"Well...that's grown up stuff baby girl."
She sulked quietly, putting her head back on his chest.
"We still love you very very much, that hasn't changed at all."
"Is it my fault?" She asked and his heart broke.
"No baby girl, no, not at all. None of this is your fault."
"I know I haven't been doing my homework, and I don't always feed Roosevelt when I'm told and-"
He cut her off, kneeling beside the bed so he could look her in the eyes. "Janey," he held her hands. "None of this is your fault. Your mother and I loved you since the day we found out we were gonna have you. And when you were born, we looked at you and we just cried and cried.
I have never been prouder or happier than I was in that moment. And you know what? That hasn't changed a bit, not even a little."
Janey smiled, her face still wet with leftover tears.
"Really?" She sniffed.
"Yes." Cooper chuckled, scooping her up and hugging her again and she giggled. "Now, how about a hot chocolate, with double marshmallows?"
She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
She hugged him as he carried her downstairs. "I love you daddy." She said.
His chest burst with warmth and happiness and he smiled. "I love you too sweetheart."
Tumblr media
The next morning, Janey was watching cartoons on the TV while eating her breakfast and Cooper sipped greatfully at his cup of hot coffee, having not gotten much sleep.
He smiled as he heard his daughter giggle at the TV, her mouth full of cereal, and sat down at the dining table with his newspaper.
But just as he sat down the loud ringing from the telephone rang out through the kitchen and he sighed heavily.
"I'll get it!" Janey yelled and ran over, hoping it was her mother. Her face dropped when it wasn't her mother's voice she heard on the other end of the line. "Yeah he's here, I'll put him on."
Cooper looked up at her tone and she held the receiver out to him. "It's for you dad."
He walked over and took it, kissing her on the head before she went back to her cartoons.
"Hello?" He said.
"Mr. Howard, it's Irene. I'm sorry to call you at home but I need your help."
Her voice told him it was serious. "What's wrong?"
"You were right. About Frank. I know we barely know each other but I need somewhere to stay for the night before I go to my mother's up in Sacramento. Lee...Lee doesn't know."
"I uh..."
"...no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you." She said.
"No, no, it's ok. I'll make up the guest room for you."
He could hear a faint sigh of relief in her answer. "Thank you, so much, I owe you one."
He gave her his address and they hung up.
"Who was that dad?" Asked Janey.
"A friend from work. She needs a place to stay tonight so she's gonna stay in the guest bedroom. You'd like her."
She kind of shrugged in an uninterested way and took another bite of her cereal, her attention back on the TV.
He hoped no one sees Irene at his house, that's the last thing he needs in the papers, especially now.
Tumblr media
Part 1 | Part 3
131 notes · View notes
itslottiehere · 1 year
Text
mors tua, vita mea — h.s
Tumblr media
hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know, i know, it’s been a while, but i truly hope this story makes up for the lack of writing! i’ve had so much fun while writing this, and i hope you’ll like it as much as i do <3 please, let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblog, in your tags, or in my asks! if you enjoy the story, please consider reblogging! it really helps me and also make me want to keep going!! without further ado, happy reading! <3
— inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift.
cw: angst, a bit of kissing, some swear words
word count: 6.5k
gif by @londonharry
masterlist | leave your feedback or requests here
the backstreet was dark, a few spots of light showing her the way to the car she hid before the heist took place. before chris could know that there was only one way that night could have ended, and that was with him locked up. 
she had been planning this for months now: their biggest heist, her biggest betrayal. 
she wasn’t sentimental about it at all, it was just pure business: she knew the cops were closing in on them, so she had to leave before shit hit the fan. simple as that. 
also, chris was becoming way too attached to her as it was, so it was really a two birds with one stone deal for her: she had always made it clear that their “relationship” was nothing more than work, but sometimes the nights in the safe house got boring and lonely, and the company was appreciated. 
still, a few nights of sex didn’t mean there were feelings involved or anything of that sort, and no matter how much chris said that he “got it”, she noticed the changes in his attitude, how protective of her he became, how his touch would linger for a second longer, how he would double and triple check with her if she got wounded, how he would always make sure she was safe before worrying about his own safety.
how he made it so easy for her to manipulate him.
the poor thing never saw it coming. the pink lenses of infatuation making him painfully oblivious to the fact that he was never gonna see her again. 
both her and the outside world, from her calculations: the cops would find plenty of evidence on him, in the safe house, that would tie him up with a pretty little bow and send him off to prison for god’s know how long, all the while making him the perfect scapegoat for her. 
she couldn’t know if chris would rat her out, — although she thought it not likely, given the lovesick puppy look he had ever since they slept together, — but even if he tried to, she made sure not to leave any trace of her identity in any document, in anything that had to do with any illegal activity. 
and even if she did, they wouldn’t have found her: the identity she used wasn’t hers, and she was gonna stop being the person chris knew as soon as she drove away, her new id card safely stored in the pocket of her jacket, the old one burnt to a crisp.
the soles of her shoes were scraping against the gravel, the ground wet from the light november rain, while she jogged to what would bring her into a new life, a new start. she had to get out of there, immediately. 
what she wasn’t expecting was a dark silhouette appearing on the other side of the alley, seemingly jogging towards her. 
fuck, fuck, fuck.
she was so sure she had locked the exit door on the back, so how did chris manage to get out? he would have had to figure out she was planning on framing him. 
if that was the case, this wasn’t gonna end well.
she opened up the door to her car, ready to bolt, when the unknown figure spoke slowly: “wait.”
that was not chris. the voice was deep, rough, and the way he pronounced just one single word made chills run through her body. 
or maybe that was just the adrenaline of it all, the fear of getting caught betraying her partner by said partner. 
“wait.” the figure spoke once more, getting closer to the car. “i need a lift.”
what the actual fuck? did he take her for an uber driver or something? 
she scoffed and got in the car, keys inside the ignition, ready to drive off.
which couldn’t be done since the tall figure decided to stand in the middle of the alley. 
she couldn’t really honk, not when the alarms inside the building were about to go off and the place was about to be stormed by cops. she had to leave, and if she had to run over him, then so be it.
she put her foot on the gas, put in the first gear and was very much convinced that the man would decide to move out of the way. 
but she had no such luck.
his hands hit the hood of her car, hard, while she pressed on the breaks with all her strength in order to not make him flat on the ground. 
so much for survival instincts, she thought.
“were you really about to run me over?” the man spoke — his figure now becoming clearer since he was nearer than before. a lazy smirk cut his face. “mmh. i like you.” 
and just like that he was opening the passenger’s door, seating down and buckling his seatbelt. 
she was utterly shocked, what the hell was going on, why was he- “who the fuck are you? and what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing in my car?”
the man chuckled lowly, casting two deep indents in his cheeks. “oh wow, they didn’t tell me the owl had such a filthy mouth.”
the name made her eyes go wide: the owl. working in the darkest hours of the night was her distinctive trait, hence the nickname she chose for herself while doing business. 
“‘m harry, by the way. don’t have a cool nickname like yours yet, but perhaps i should find one. what about the puma? what do you think?”
she scoffed, looking straight and finally driving away. “well, harry or the puma or whatever you wanna be called-”
“harry is just fine.”
“alright, harry, would you mind telling me why the fuck are you here?” her patience was wearing thin and she really didn’t want to lose any more time on this.
“oh right, sort of forgot to tell you, didn’t i? okay, well, my dear owl- hold up, don’t i get to know your name? i told you mine.” he turned his body to face her. 
judging by the deep frown of her eyebrows and how set her eyes were on the road in front of them, he assumed he wouldn’t get it that easily. 
“well, doesn’t matter for now. so, back to where i was: i have been checking you out for a while, saw your latest works and was very impressed. i’m in need of a partner, and from what i saw tonight, so do you.” he spoke, and in the far distance they could hear the police sirens and spot the blue and red lights: everything was about to go down.
harry coming to bother her on that particular night was really somewhat karmic, wasn’t it? she screwed over her partner, so fate had to bring an annoying man in her plans, once again. she cleared her throat, her tone dry.
“how did you know what i would do?”
harry turned once again towards the road. “i knew the police was closing in on you, so i thought that if you played your cards right you may have the chance to get away, and the better escape plan would have been to ditch your partner.” the man in her passenger seat stretched his legs, his arms raised up, his voice coming out a bit strained. “word on the street was that tonight something was going down, i thought to check it out to see if it was actually gonna be you. my lucky night, i’d say.”
harry had heard plenty about the owl’s operations and was extremely intrigued by her. the plans were intricate, but incredibly well thought out, and often went down without a hitch, and the chosen artworks to be stolen being invaluable masterpieces made it all the more admirable. he knew as soon as he saw one of her biggest heists go down so smoothly that he desperately wanted to be in business with her, so he began keeping tabs on her, which brought him in that alley, that precise night.
he didn’t expect to be so entranced to her. 
sure, he was in awe of her plans and the way she carried on her business, but he was struck by her. even more than her looks, it was the confidence she radiated from her stance, her set gaze, her clenched jaw, that was what drew him in immediately. 
he knew she was trouble, especially given her line of work. but it seemed like he couldn’t help himself to fall under her spell, and that was saying something, since she tried to run him over not even 20 minutes prior. 
oh, poor harry didn’t know what he was getting into.
she wasn’t dumb, nor blind: harry was a treat for the eyes, and obviously way more prepared than chris ever was. still to that day she couldn’t believe he didn’t see it coming, it was all so clear to her. she was sneaky, of course, but he must’ve had some clue, right? or well, she guessed that what people say is true: love makes you dumb. 
harry was another league, though. he kept track of her, which must’ve not been easy since she always took so many precautions to keep everything on the down low; he discovered her plan and also understood that the better route for her was to ditch her partner. 
he definitely had more experience than chris, and that could be an advantage: for once, she could have someone to bounce ideas off of, and since harry managed to find out her ironclad plans, it means that something wasn’t as hidden as she would’ve liked, and having him could help with that.
when she started her business, she swore that she had to be the one calling all the shots: being the perfectionist she is, she couldn’t relegate the responsibility of something so important like a heist to someone who wasn’t herself. she decided to get a partner — enter, chris — just because sometimes it was physically impossible to do it all on her own. that didn’t change the fact that he was merely a mean to an end, he had no voice whatsoever in planning anything, and not once had he complained about it, nor he had any reason to: the money was good, and once he even got to win her affection — or well, what he thought could’ve turned into something more — he was good with doing whatever she wanted.
she had the feeling it wasn’t gonna be like this with harry. 
or well, at least not that easy. 
“that was impressive, not going to lie. it mustn’t have been easy to keep track of my movements. so, bravo.” she spoke, her eyes quickly glancing towards him.
a smirk took place on harry’s face, the praise of such a pro stroking his ego. “it was, but very much worth it.” 
his voice was smooth like silk, and even the dumbest person walking on earth could’ve felt the flirty undertones of his words from miles away. 
she quickly thought about it, a new plan. a new, better plan.
“okay, pretty boy. if you can keep up, i can think about being partners. that is, if you prove worthy of my time.”
“deal.” he smiled, and again the dimples on his cheeks made an appearance. “pretty boy, huh? should that be my badass nickname?”
“still better than the puma.”
that night marked the beginning of a new era, four years of the most lucrative, crazy, exciting heists the both of them could have ever imagined.
and over the course of those years, the inevitable and not so unexpected happened: they fell for each other, and they fell hard.
endless night of planning, scheming, and building trust with each other turned them into real life bonnie and clyde, absolutely drunk on adrenaline and love. 
it was definitely not something she had planned, not something she had wanted either, but there was no denying chemistry: sometimes, things just happen, and you have no choice but to let them run their course.
harry was just as smitten: he was hooked from the beginning, and fought hard to win her over from day one. 
it started as a ‘business partners with benefits’ kind of deal, a way to ‘pass the time’, — at least for her, harry was already harboring feelings for the woman — but it bloomed into something more, somewhat organically. 
he still teased her that she became soft for him when he got injured during an escape: the rope attached to the top of the building didn’t hold up harry, who suffered a bad fall. his shoulder was dislocated, and she had to be the one who had to put it back in place, since hospitals weren’t really an option, and harry couldn’t ignore the look she held in her eyes, as if even just the thought of hurting him was physically hurting her.
he didn’t expect it, definitely not from someone like the infamous owl: she showed no remorse for her actions, no feelings for the first six months of them working together, and he made peace with the fact that that was just the way it was gonna be, but was pleasantly surprised when that revealed not to be the case. 
the world knew her as a scheming, logical woman, but harry had the privilege of being her soft spot.
he was always a pretty open guy, not scared of having big feelings or of falling in love. he had already felt it in the past, he just wasn’t prepared to experience how powerful it could feel with the right person: what he felt for her was something out of a novel, a perfect mixture of infatuation, almost obsession, adrenaline and maybe insanity, and it was so incredibly addicting.
the last heist was a perfect success, their biggest bag as a matter of fact. the artwork they managed to steal had taken months upon months of planning, but it all went down incredibly smoothly: 7 minutes, in and out, exactly like they had wanted. they were already far when the police arrived, harry behind the wheel, driving their getaway car.
with chris, she had never let him drive, ever: she had to be in control of everything, of every little aspect, probably because she never fully trusted him. but she did trust harry, wholeheartedly so. 
the drive to the dingy motel wasn’t too long, the night chill enveloping them thanks to the lack of a roof on their car. the adrenaline was running high still, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and leaving a kiss on harry’s smiling lips, their grins quite too big to properly kiss each other. but it didn’t matter, the feeling was all the same, the rush quite impossible to describe to someone who never felt it.
harry disconnected their lips, not before leaving a quick peck once again, and looked back to the barely lit country road ahead of them. 
“very risky to distract me like that right now, sweetheart.”
“couldn’t help it, pretty boy. you’re just too damn good-looking.” she smiled at the nickname, and harry did too: it stuck ever since that first night, and harry definitely never complained. 
“c’mon, we’re almost at the motel.” harry’s hand took its rightful place on her left thigh, softly squeezing the flesh, awakening a storm of butterflies and inviting them to bat their wings in her stomach. she rested her hand on top of his, gently toying with his rings.
the motel neon sign was missing a few letters, its occupants nothing less than unsavory, but she didn’t care: she wasn’t one to be scared in the first place, much less with harry by her side.
once they got to their room, she locked the door and quickly found her back pressed into it, harry’s lips straight on hers. she knew what was coming, it happened every single time after a hit: the euphoria of a successful heist was a very powerful aphrodisiac.
harry’s lips pressed slowly against her own, he was in no hurry now. after he felt her body relaxing in his hold, he moved onto her neck, and smiled against her skin when he heard a shaky breath falling from her lips after he sucked lightly on the spot he knew would drive her crazy. 
her hand went immediately into his hair, tugging on the curls she loved to play with at every chance she got, while the other travelled down his torso, heading towards his belt.
knowing where she was going, harry detached his lips from her neck and looked at her: flushed cheeks, her eyes — his favorite feature of hers — slightly glazed over, her lips full and a raspberry colour. he smiled at the sight.
“sweetheart,” he murmured. “sweetheart, hey.”
“mmh?” she hummed, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the expanse of his tummy and chest, pressing her lips in the dip of his throat. 
harry hated to have to tear himself away from her and her touch, but a shower was in order, and also making her wait made the whole situation way more intriguing, her getting antsy waiting for him really did a number on him.
her forehead rested on his chest, a small whine falling from her lips when he felt him trying to move away from her, which made harry chuckle. he softly pressed a kiss to the top of her head, slowly walking backwards towards the restroom, but her arms refused to leave his body, so she was stumbling along with him, her cheek still smushed against his chest.
harry reached behind his back to untangle her arms from his waist, not without her protesting. he leaned in and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “be right back”, before leaving the room.
she felt drunk, as she usually did whenever harry was in near proximity, but there was nothing she could do about it.
she laid down on the dingy bed, eagerly waiting for her lover to be back and, to kill the time, she decided to turn on the tv.
what she saw sobered her up real quick.
the news were reporting a robbery at a famous gallery, two figures with their dark hoodies up filmed from a camera at the end of the alley.
a camera both she and harry failed to notice.
they were lucky the camera was at the opposite end of the dark and unlit alley, and caught just a glimpse of their backs, but this wasn’t good. this was not supposed to happen. 
never, in all her years of planning, had she forgot to notice a camera, and the fact that this happened with their biggest heist made the blood drain from her face. 
she tried her hardest to lower her heart rate and to focus on what the newscaster was saying: two suspects, no faces identified, probably left by car, all the other cameras in the block were somehow off during the escape — somehow actually being the work of one of harry’s acquaintances — and the police had no leads for the moment.
all things considered, it wasn’t bad at all.
so why couldn’t she seem to catch her breath?
the bathroom door creaked open, a bit of steam filling the room. harry stepped out, a towel hanging on his lower half, his body glistening with little droplets of water, hair matted and still dripping a little. 
he had a dopey smile on his lips, which soon fell once he noticed that she wasn’t ogling at him as she usually would when he stepped out of a shower.
“hey,” he called out to her, “something wrong?”
she didn’t even notice that harry had walked back into the room, so she slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. her head quickly turned towards him, as she just as quickly turned the tv off.
“of course, yeah.” she smiled. “missed you.”
“could’ve joined me, you know?” he grinned, “never would refuse a beautiful lady like you.” he got closer to her and pressed his lips softly against hers.
she reciprocated the kiss, disconnecting it quite a bit earlier than harry would’ve liked, and murmured still close to his lips, “can we cuddle for a bit?”
harry’s hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs slowly stroking the apples, “yeah, of course. want my shirt to sleep in?”
she excitedly nodded, staring at his back while he retrieved a shirt from his luggage.
sleep came quickly to harry, his arm holding her tightly against his chest, comforted by the feeling of having her safe in his arms.
she still couldn’t quite catch her breath.
.
harry woke up to an empty bed: the creamy rays of sun beamed through the worn blinds, rousing him awake. as he did every morning, he reached for her, looking forward to hooking his arm around her waist and feel her snuggle against his chest. but that day, his hand touched a cold piece of comforter instead of the warm, soft body of his girl.
his eyes opened immediately, trying to adapt to the light, his brows furrowed as he knuckled his eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. his slightly startled heart stopped once he saw her seated at the little desk the room provided, typing away on her computer, wrapped in his sweatshirt with her hair still damp from the shower she probably had just taken.
way too focused on adjusting the last details of the meetup with the buyer for that same night, she jumped when she felt two strong arms engulfing her.
“morning, love.” his morning voice was a gift straight from heaven, it never failed to make her feel warm and cozy. “don’t like it when i wake up without you.”
she could hear the pout on his face, and she smiled at the notion that he was so affected by her absence. “good morning, pretty boy. just had to take a shower and finalize the details for the drop off with the buyer tonight.” she turned around and looked at his still half closed eyes. she tilted her head up, puckering her lips a little, “kiss?”
harry didn’t miss a beat and laid his mouth on hers, moaning softly at the contact.
she hadn’t lied per se, she had to do all of what she said, but she also couldn’t stand lying awake in that bed for one more second: she had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, the video of them on the news flashing continuously in her mind. 
so she tried to focus on work, to get things right before they could go wrong. 
the day went by as usual, the two of them laying low, preparing for the meetup with this anonymous buyer. the sum of money this person was offering was definitely mind blowing, and there was no way they could turn it down. 
in the late afternoon, they left the motel to reach the location given to them: it was a rundown warehouse, obviously abandoned, and they were under strict orders to arrive at 8pm on the dot, to leave the car outside the main gate, and proceed by feet till they arrived to the container with the number 258: that was where they’d find an employee of the buyer. 
it was all routine, they almost never handled a deal with the buyer directly, and they understood the reason. she and harry never exchanged names as well, for safety reasons, or any other details, just informations about the drop. 
at 7:50pm, they were parked outside the warehouse. the chill of the desert air made the hair on her arms stand, a shiver running down her spine. 
“cold?” harry asked, after he noticed her shudder. it wasn’t that cold at the moment for him, and it was probably gonna be worse once the sun was set all the way, but nonetheless he put his jacket on her shoulders, his big hands running up and down her upper arms to give her some warmth. 
she smiled at the gesture, and tilted her head up, “thank you.”
he reciprocated the smile and took her hand, in the other one holding the bag containing the stolen piece of art. “of course, darling. now let’s go, wanna be back in that motel bed as soon as possible,” he cheekily remarked.
they walked hand in hand till they found the container 258, and knocked three times, as instructed. the shutter was pulled up, a man dressed in a suit, who looked to be in his forties, appearing behind it.
“welcome, you must be the sellers. please, come in.” the unknown man spoke, and she and harry made their way inside.
harry laid the bag carefully on the table, beside a briefcase, previously set down.
“thank you, sir. as per your request by email, the-”
“actually,” harry interrupted, “you didn’t speak with me. she,” he pointed to the girl beside him, who had a stony expression, “is the head of the whole operation, so if you want to explain something to someone, you can do so with her.”
this was also something they were both used to, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. if only they knew they were actually talking to the owl, they’d probably kiss the her shoes.
the deal was over in 5 minutes, the majority of which was spent with the two of them counting the money, making sure every penny was in that briefcase. after confirming so, they barely said goodbye to that sexist prick, and went back to their car.
the drive to the motel was quiet, but not uncomfortably so: harry’s right hand took place on her left thigh as usual, while her arm was stretched behind his headrest, playing mindlessly with his curls, scratching his scalp lightly. 
“hey, pretty boy.” she called, a soft smile on her lips.
harry smirked at the nickname, he couldn’t help it, “yes?”
“i really love you,” she softly said, taking her hand away from his hair and moving it to stroke his cheekbone, “you know that?”
harry couldn’t help but feel his tummy warm up at her words, his cheeks getting a bit flushed. “i do know, darling, but thank you for the reminder.” he snickered, “i love you too.” he said, and took his right hand off her leg to grab her hand, planting a soft kiss to her palm, and to every knuckle. 
once they finally reached the motel, harry turned off the ignition and turned to face her. his hand took a hold of her jaw, and pressed a kiss against her pouty lips. she sighed into the kiss, a thing that drove harry absolutely crazy. 
“what if-” she tried to talk, but was quickly interrupted by harry kissing her again, “we go to the room to-” another kiss, “put down our things and-”, yet another kiss, “then we have a drink at the bar?” she put her hand on harry’s chest to push him a bit further, or else she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence. “if i’m not mistaken it’s right by the reception. sounds good?”
harry nodded, and to seal his agreement he kissed her once again.
after making their way down from their room into the motel bar, they sat down at the counter, harry’s hand on her back while she climbed on the stool. 
the bar was definitely empty, just a couple of old men sat in the corner of the room, a deck of cards between them. 
“two old fashioned, please.” harry asked the man behind the counter.
it was a sort of a tradition, getting that drink after a deal: the first time they did a deal together, he was the one suggesting going for a drink, which she — surprisingly to him — did not turn down. once they reached the pub nearby, she ordered an old fashioned, and asked harry what he wanted, to which he answered “the same”, and it became a tradition ever since then.
“oh wait-” she said all of a sudden, which made harry turn his head towards her.
“oh i’m sorry, did you want something else?” he asked, unsure of even his question, since she had never ordered something else.
she quickly shook her head, “no no, don’t worry, i just realized i forgot my phone in our room.” she stood from the stool, “i’m gonna go get it and i’ll be right back, alright?” after she spoke, she left a lingering kiss on his cheek.
harry hummed and with a little smile, he playfully said, “be quick, i’m gonna miss you.”
she returned his smile, and opened the motel bar door, “i’m gonna miss you too, pretty boy.” 
.
harry didn’t think any of it after ten minutes, she probably got caught up on something online, or had to answer to an email right away and couldn’t wait.
he didn’t think any of it after twenty minutes, thinking she may have had a call to make and it was taking a bit longer than usual. he settled on shooting her a message, asking if she was fine. the message was left on delivered.
but after thirty minutes, he needed to check on her. what if she was sick and he was there waiting for her at the bar like an idiot? what if there was a problem and she needed his help, even if she would most likely never admit it?
he left some banknotes on the counter, and rushed his way upstairs.
once he stood in front of the door, his blood run cold: the door was ajar. 
something was wrong, very wrong.
carefully, he pushed the door, reaching for his pocket knife; once it was open, his eyes darted around the room, looking for something out of place.
the thing is, it wasn’t that something was out of place, it was that something was missing: her bag, her clothes, her laptop, herself, they were all missing. there was no trace of her, as if she had never been there.
“what-” he rushed in, the door left slightly open behind him. he hastily opened the bathroom door, checking if maybe she was there, but, alas, she was not.
“what the fuck is going on?” harry muttered to himself, so confused that he was sure that his movements weren’t even making sense. his head kept turning from side to side, trying to find something, anything to help him understand what was going on.
he was never one to panic, always been a pretty clearheaded guy in every situation he’s found himself in, but not when his girl was involved, and especially when he was totally in the dark about what had happened. 
his eyes finally zeroed in on a piece of paper on the desk.
of course, of course she’d be smart and leave him some sort of trace, so he could find her and get her back.
he stumbled on his steps, his legs wobbling as if made of jelly and with frantic fingers, he opened the piece of paper, which showed just four, short words.
mors tua, vita mea.
“wh-what, no-”, he rambled, shaking his head energetically, choosing not to believe the reality that was downing on him. “no, no, it can’t-” he kept chanting, over and over, but his rambling was cut short.
in his peripherals, he saw the red and blue lights bouncing off the dirty white walls of the motel room, the sound of the police car doors closing and of the steps of the officers coming up the stairs, but the sounds were almost muted, the shock making his ears ring.
the door was pushed open, three officers coming in first, guns blazing, while the others were surely waiting all around the motel, pointing their guns at him through the windows. 
“put your hands up! over your head!”
harry robotically obliged, not in control of his body anymore. 
“harry styles, you’re under arrest. you have the right to remain silent, anything you say…”.
he didn’t hear the rest of the miranda rights over the sound of the faith he had in her shattering, puncturing his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
18 months later.
“styles, you have a visitor.”
harry’s eyes opened at the voice of the guard, the ceiling of his cell staring back at him. those were words he didn’t get to hear often, only two other times, and both times it was always a nosy journalist wanting to write a story about a pretty successful art thief. he laid still, pondering whether to go or stay in his shoe box of a cell for the rest of the day.
“styles, get up. i don’t have all day.”
harry dragged his feet along the corridor, and once he arrived to the designated room, he headed towards the seat the officer pointed. once he sat down, he grabbed the black phone receiver, and didn’t even bother looking at the person standing in front of him, his eyes closed already in annoyance.
“look, if you’re another fucking journalist, i’m not gonna say a word to you, so you wasted your time coming here and i’m asking you to leave.”
the person in front of him hesitated, as he heard a shallow breathe on the other end of the receiver.
“hi, pretty boy.”
harry’s eyes had never opened so fast, and his heart skipped a beat. 
no, no, this wasn’t real, this was just his mind playing tricks on him: stupid, fucking horrible and cruel tricks.
the voice didn’t match the exterior: the person in front of him had another haircut, a whole other hair colour, the eyes — the feature he most loved about her — covered by large sunglasses. 
but he knew. he knew it was her: the way her lips were set in her natural pout, the shape of her face, the freckle she had at the right corner of her bottom lip. 
the way his heart was going out of his chest trying to reach for her.
he was supposed to hate her — and he did, he so did — but the way his nickname fell from her lips lit up something in him, something that no matter how much he wanted it to be dormant, it was still there. 
his brain could only manage to ask her the one question that nagged at him ever since that day.
“why.”
he stared at her through the glass, green tired eyes boring into her soul. she knew it was risky, showing up at a prison under yet another false identity, but she knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye one last time. one real last time.
so she swallowed harshly, and opened her mouth, keeping her answers short in order not to break down.
“think about the place where you first met me, harry.” she murmured, while his stony expression was staring back at her. “i had no other choice.”
harry chuckled darkly, a grin so deranged that she felt her blood run cold. this answer of hers opened the gate to all the hatred that had been boiling in him for 18 long months.
“that’s such bullshit, and you know it. you had a choice — you  fucking did — and you made it. you chose to tip-off the police, you chose to leave your name out of every document, you chose to use a fake identity with me as well, and make it impossible to track you; you chose to pack your bags and steal the car, you chose to leave me behind and letting me take the blame for it.” his voice was laced with venom. “i spent 18 fucking months in this cell, with just one question running through my mind, all day, all night, every day: why did you choose to do this to me.”
“harry, i told you, i had-”
“bullshit!” he screamed, a prominent vein on his neck, while smashing his fist against the plastic glass, over and over again. “you ruined my fucking life, and you have the gall to give me that as the reason why you did it? tell me the truth! tell me the fucking truth! you owe me at least that.” 
the volume of his voice and the violence he was hitting the glass with made her stand up and hang up the receiver, scrambling to get away from him before his actions brought too much attention on her as well. three officers had to come in to stop harry from smashing down the glass and jumping on the other side of the window, and had to drag him away whilst he was still fighting with all his strength, his legs kicking and arms flailing trying to be freed, his voice repeatedly shouting just one word, over and over: why.
nine days later, harry found himself moved to a facility of a higher security rank: his violent act during the visit wasn’t an isolated episode, and basically opened the door to a side of harry that he never knew. he never knew such anger in his life.
the guard guiding him stopped in front of the nth same looking cell. 
“bradford, your new roomie is here.” the guard sarcastically said, making harry want to punch his face in, but unable to do so because of the cuffs on his wrists.
the man laying in the bunk barely scoffed and glanced at harry while he was walking into his new “home”.
once the guard went away, bradford turned to harry and looked him up and down, then returned to stare at the ceiling. harry could perhaps even manage to put up with the guy, if he always kept this quiet, but he felt like at least an introduction was to be done, to be the least civil. “‘m harry, harry styles. and you are?” 
his new cellmate groaned softly while standing up, putting his legs down from the bunk.
“i’m bradford, chris bradford. and i know exactly who you are.”
harry was definitely dumbfounded, “what? how do you-?”
“your case was all over the news, even inmates got to know about it. but most of all, i know you because i’ve been you.”
harry’s confusion must’ve been displayed clearly on his face, because chris just scoffed and kept on talking.
“we’ve been framed by the same person." he murmured, "and we’re gonna take her down together.”
the latin phrase mors tua vita mea, of medieval origin, means “your death, my life” (or: “your death (is) my life”).
beyond the dramatic tone of the literal sense, this expression is used when within a competition or in the attempt to reach a goal there can be only one winner: the saying indicates that the failure of one is an indispensable prerequisite for the success of another.
taglist: @a-strange-familiar @stilesissaved @harrysonlylover @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kittenhere @neverstaisfied
please, let me know what you think and please, please reblog! thank you so much for being here, it means the world <3 also, just a little fyi, there's no plan for a part 2!
249 notes · View notes
onthewaytosomewhere · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
putting this up now cuz i suppose i have stuff i need to get done and if i don't now it'll end up like sunday where the day is done and i lose all desire to post anything lolz
so i thought i was gonna hafta steal @kiwiana-writes open tag but guess what happens when you open one of these things and don't finish it - others get around to doing it - so i have tags - yay!! - thanks ever so much @jmagnabo92 @caterpills @fullerthanskippy & @cha-melodius for the tags this morning
so the were/vamp coffee shop au that is my @ficwip dark & cozy fic took an interesting turn last night and then i realized i was probably setting it up all along without realizing when i read a few past bits and ... yeah guess we get soulmates here too ... this snip is not that tho cuz it's still very work in progress-y lolz
so have a little bj-interruptus lolz
In the meantime, he has a few things to drop off for Pez from Raf, who he saw earlier. He walks through the backdoor of the club to find Liam pressed against the wall by Pez, who seems to be very much enjoying the way Liam’s cock is sliding in and out of his mouth as his head bobs. Alex yelps involuntarily and turns back to the door he came in through but stops when he hears Pez’s mouth ‘pop’ as he pulls off. Liam huffs and Alex keeps his back to them, really not needing to get an eyeful of his friend. This isn’t the first time he’s walked in on them in a similar position; he wishes he could say it was only the second—Alas, that is not the case. He’s walked in on them so many times lately he’s actually surprised he didn’t find out they were a thing before, but figures that’s due to Liam having been out of town. His enhanced hearing tells him that clothes have been put back in place and Pez has stood back up, so he turns back around to see Liam, still leaning against the wall, looking entirely too serene for someone who was just interrupted in the midst of what looked like an amazing blowjob. Pez is leaning against him and greets Alex, “Alexander, what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Percy makes his name sound even more posh than usual, and Alex rolls his eyes. Pez is the only person who calls him Alexander, and ever since he told him how incredibly posh it sounds coming out of his mouth, he seems to have taken it as a challenge to make it sound even more so. Alex takes the file from his bag and hands it over, “I had to stop and see Raf today, and he asked me to drop this to you.”
(no-pressure) tag ur it! @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @cricketnationrise
@dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces
@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf
@inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @littlemisskittentoes
@lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt
@softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @suseagull04
@tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper
@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @everwitch-magiks @myheartalivewrites
@emmalostinwonderland @basil-bird @sheepywritesfics @doublecheekedkinard
@bigassbowlingballhead @exhuastedpigeon @captainjunglegym
oh and a BIG OLD OPEN TAG FOR ANYONE I MAY HAVE MISSED THAT WANTS TO JOIN IN
37 notes · View notes