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dutchvanwinkle · 2 years

Note

Would you consider doing a fic request involving a three way with Dutch and Arthur? There isn’t enough out there with both in!

Would I consider it? Baby I fantasize about it on the regular. Enjoy ☺

I know it took me a while to finish but I hope the wait was worth it anon!

This is set in the early-ish days, Arthur being mid-twenties and Dutch being mid-thirties because I love the thought of cocky Arthur in his youth.

The Importance of Hierarchy - Arthur x Dutch x Reader

ao3 link if you prefer.

Summary: Arthur and Dutch notice you’ve become too self-assured and seem to have forgotten the hierarchy within the gang. They take it upon themselves to remind you.

Word count: 15,119

Content warnings: So much smut, 18+ (please check ao3 for specific tags)

Life in a gang had thoroughly surprised you. At first, when the offer arose of joining a small gaggle of outlaws you weren’t entirely sure about the whole thing. Most of them that had joined the gang did so because they had nowhere else to go and it gave them an opportunity for a second chance. But you were poached by them, a talented thief with a quick wit who they happened to run into when a few of them were targeting the same mark as you. It made sense to team up for the job at the time, they seemed decent enough and if you were being honest, you were slightly out of your depth sneaking into the mansion of a local businessman; not that you’d ever admit that to them.

The whole thing went off without a hitch, and you stole more than you’d have been able to on your own, so even when split between yourself and the three men your take was larger than you’d expected. You parted ways afterwards but hadn’t expected them to track you down some days later with the promise of a larger take and a spot in their gang.

While the job went well, you still had your reservations. Though this time, your new friends Arthur, John, and Javier had brought along the gang’s leader who appeared to harbour the group’s share of charm and smoothly twisted your arm into joining up with a promise that it can only be temporary should you decide it’s not for you.

Alas, temporary it was not.

This way of life suited you; it was nice having other people to talk and drink with, and it was nice having them there to fall back on if a job went sour. Six months went by and you were already a part of the furniture, well-accustomed to the ebbs and flows experienced by the Van der Linde gang. The vagabonds had already stepped up from the title of colleagues and you proudly thought of them as your family.

And as with every family, that just so happened to include the regular squabbling - harmless as it was.

Currently, you felt nothing other than frustration at Arthur and Dutch, one-upping each other with their marksman skills as they shot bottles and birds alike while you sat and waited for them to get a move on so you could start turning the ground over in the gang’s new surrounding area for some fresh leads. Leant by the small tree a ways off the main road, you’d watched for over forty-five minutes and they didn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.

While Arthur made an excuse about why he’d missed a shot you flicked open your pocket watch, grunting at the time that greeted you. It was getting late, you were getting hungry, and they were getting on your last nerve.

Pushing yourself off the tree’s trunk, you stood between them and held up your rolled-up map. The two men stopped their animated discussion almost comically, heads tilted at you like a pair of dumb dogs for an explanation.

“If you boys are quite done with your pissing contest, I believe we have some work to do,” you reminded them, unrolling the map and holding it open.

They shared a cursory glance at the map before each other and then you, the corners of their lips turning up in amusement.

“Sorry little lady,” Arthur drawled, casually digging his repeater into the ground to lean on. “Didn’t realise you had somewhere better to be.”

You huffed tiredly. “I just don’t want to spend my time standing around. The two of you can go off and shoot all the bottles you like once we’re through, and I can go elsewhere.”

“When did your time become so valuable? Had I known, I might’ve taken out a small loan or asked Strauss to balance the books for me,” Dutch mused, Arthur’s chuckle chiming in the background. “We ought to make amends to our budget to allow for our new expense. Would you like your payment weekly or monthly, miss?”

“Any time today would be grand,” you scoffed. “Stop being an ass, you said this wouldn’t take long.”

Dutch raised his eyebrows at your comment and choice of name for him, and cockily crossed his arms – something you suspected was usually enough to get someone to rethink their words. You knew talking back to the man in charge was a brave, or stupid, thing to do but on this occasion, you thought you were warranted to say something. Besides, he always did struggle to be mad at you considering the high-quality work you’d put in for the gang so far.

“My my, Arthur. Seems our girl is growing bored of us.”

You dropped your arm to your side, the map dangling uselessly and rubbed at your brow with a fatigued groan. “It’s not that. I’m happy to go to town on my own, I don’t see why I have to come with you both anyway. Then you can finish whatever... sport this is and go off on your own accord. Sound fair?”

They glanced at each other once more, not seeming even slightly bothered by your small outburst and instead seemed to find humour at each turn of the conversation. After mirroring each other’s smiles, Arthur cleared the laugh building in his throat.

“What’chu think, Dutch? Sound fair to you?”

Dutch hummed thoughtfully, feigning the action of decision-making and only doing so for the sake of creating suspense. Arthur waited patiently; a befittingly boyish smirk plastered across his face.

“Now, what is fair? One may define it as -”

“No,” you interrupted immediately, one of Dutch’s lectures the last on the list of things you wanted at that moment. “For the love of god, no.”

“No what?” he asked, eyes warm and mischievous.

“Please,” you sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m appealing to your humanity. Do not make me sit through a lecture. And do not make me sit through any more mindless shooting.”

“Alright,” Dutch acquiesced, raising his arms in surrender and Arthur tutted at the swift end to his entertainment. “Fair enough. As you wish, we can go ahead and do our scouting now instead.”

“Thank you,” you said pointedly, turning on your heels to lead them back to the horses who you suspected were just as bored as you were.

So, you got your way and the ordeal was finished, but at what cost? While you did scour the town for leads, from then on, the two men thought it funny to use every opportunity to tease you and you began to miss a few hours previous when you only had to listen to the repeated fires of their guns instead of their smarmy remarks. They really were a childish pair of bastards.

✾

The local town was fruitful, filled to the brim with leads that you’d been tracking in your journal. The gang was busy and spirits were high with all the planning that was going on. You’d taken a second trip into town with Karen a few days later to scout for a job the two of you had been scoping out and you’d robbed a stagecoach with John and somehow come out the other side unscathed. One job you’d been helping plan for was on hold, it was one of the biggest you’d been involved with and required a generous amount of dynamite to pull off. Though the one person who promised to get you said dynamite was yet to deliver.

After pondering the rest of the active leads and deciding this particular one was a priority to set in motion, you pushed up from your bedroll and beelined for Arthur, sitting outside Dutch’s tent sharpening his knife.

“Arthur,” you greeted him and the outlaw raised his head in response, eyes quickly darting to the small book in your hand as he calculated you hadn’t come over for a friendly chat.

“How can I help?” he asked pre-emptively with an underlying tone of sarcasm.

“I need the dynamite sooner rather than later,” you informed him, ignoring his mocking façade of helpfulness. “This one can’t wait much longer.”

Dutch was facing the other way, a cigar pressed to his lips. He smirked at the thought of you bossing around big stubborn Arthur.

“That right,” Arthur sat back with a sigh. “I don’t get no hello how are you or what can I do to help you do I? All you want is for me to do something, like I’m not always doing something -”

“Arthur,” you interjected sternly. “You said you’d get it in the first place so stop making a fuss. It’s not like I’m asking for much and we can’t do anything without it. It is your job to keep the ammunition topped up.”

“You could always try asking me nicely.”

Rolling your eyes, you exhaled the cool air and reminded yourself not to rise to his teasing. “Just do it,” you lamented, turning to leave before he could make another remark.

Dutch took it as an opportunity to lean on the back of Arthur’s chair, awaiting his pending complaint.

“When did she get so god damn demanding?” the younger man promptly delivered, and while Dutch thought of a reply he found himself distracted by the sway of your hips in that skirt as you made your way back to your tent.

Arthur’s hungry eyes lit up just the same despite his grievances, the pair of dogs now closer to a pair of wolves spotting their next target for prey. It really was a flattering skirt.

The two men noticed the silence hanging between them at the same time, frowning at each other before taking their gazes away from you.

“Stop being a pervert,” Arthur deflected, letting out an awkward cough.

“You stop being a pervert,” Dutch countered, busying himself with straightening out his already straight waistcoat.

“That thing even still work anymore?” Arthur gestured lazily to Dutch’s crotch.

“Course it still works Arthur, I’m not senile.” Dutch then took the opportunity to look back at you, pencil now pressed onto your bottom lip while you concentrated on that little journal of yours. A brief wave of guilt washed over him.

Of all the people in his gang, you were by far one of the hardest workers. It was refreshing to have someone come in that had no requirements for learning the ropes, and instead taught the rest a new trick or two and provided useful insights whenever anyone asked for it. He knew that deep down you were similar to him, worrying more than necessary about the gang and overcompensating by bulking out the available funds with your labour. Sure, sometimes you could be overbearing and he wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen you sit still for a full day, but he thought back to the time you joined, often the life of the party that had now traded the drunken late nights for early, hangover-free mornings so you could get to work straight away. Dutch was truly grateful to have such an asset, but he worried that the way he hammered in the importance of loyalty and hard work had been too much and unnecessary. You just cared. A lot. He suspected you never required that push in the first place that the others usually do.

The way Dutch saw it, he was left with two problems. You’d forgotten how to have a good time and also forgotten the level of responsibility you had; while he was glad you were invested in the gang’s forthcomings; he couldn’t have you ordering his senior gun around. That was his job, after all.

He did know of one way to kill two birds with one stone.

His face and posture relaxed in turn at the enlightenment, and Arthur felt the air shift around him. He looked at Dutch inquisitively, noticing the ever-obvious signs of the man’s mind formulating a plan. “What you thinkin’?”

“I’m thinkin’ we take little miss out on a special job, just the three of us.”

“A special job?”

“Sure. Maybe remind her how to have some fun,” Dutch said, a devilish look growing on his face. It soon hardened in place with a committed exhale. “And while we’re at it, we can remind her who’s in charge.”

Arthur frowned; not entirely sure what Dutch was going on about but as usual, he assumed he wouldn’t escape being dragged along for the ride.

✾

It was a mild day, overcast skies and a cool breeze passing through the street you walked along on the way to the hotel. Dutch had asked you to meet him and Arthur there for a job and said that he’d explain more when you arrived, your only instruction being to wear a nice enough outfit that’d still let you blend in. You chose your favourite skirt and blouse combination.

The hotel was average-sized, slightly larger than one would find in a small town but nothing compared to the big city ones. You’d been in once before, to the bar on the ground floor when you and the girls had a field day swiping valuables from the over-served patrons. A hotel with its own bar was a smart idea, from the hotel’s financial perspective, yet dangerous for its customers. Knowing there’s an available bed just up the stairs often makes people more likely to reach questionable levels of intoxication. That usually worked in your favour.

Room eight, fourth door on your left when you reach the upstairs landing. The clerk’s words repeated in your head as you walked up the stairs, the small key clutched in your hand. Sure enough, there was the door to room eight.

Upon opening it, you frowned: no sign of Dutch and Arthur. Were you late? Your pocket watch answered for you when you checked the face of it – 19:03. You were just on time.

With a shrug, you assumed the others would be with you any moment, but the more than inviting bed called to your tired bones. May as well have a rest while you waited. You kicked your boots off and flopped back onto the bed, revelling in the supportive mattress and letting the bottoms of your legs dangle off the side while you observed the patterned swirls on the ceiling.

The low hum of noise from downstairs and the slight whistle of wind through a gap in the window soothed you, and while you reminded yourself that you had to stay awake, you allowed your eyes to fall shut.

Your relaxation was short-lived, the slamming open of the door startling you awake with a gasp. Instead of pulling your gun from its holster, your hand remained hovering over it when you sat up and found Arthur and Dutch laughing at your reaction. You grumbled indignantly. “You’re not funny.”

Arthur snorted, shaking his head and closing the door behind him. “You agree with that, Dutch?”

“Nope,” the man responded plainly, taking a step closer and hooking his thumbs over his gun belt.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered, sorry darlin’.”

With a defeated eye-roll, you lowered back down onto your elbows. The two of them observed you for a moment before Arthur broke the silence with an ever so slight strain in his voice.

“You’re looking mighty comfortable there.”

You looked either side of yourself to the bed and back to him. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Too comfortable,” Arthur clarified, his voice low and almost sinister. “You’re making a habit o’ it.”

You wrinkled your nose at him in confusion. If anything, you’d been the complete opposite with how tirelessly you’d worked in recent weeks to make yourself worthy of your spot in the gang. Deflated, at the prospect all you’d done wasn’t nearly enough, you breathed out a short breath. “What’s that supposed to mean? You saying I’ve been slacking off?”

Arthur didn’t give anything away, instead raising his eyebrows at Dutch to clarify.

“Quite the opposite,” he commented in an indifferent monotone. It was Dutch’s turn to receive your confused expression, allowing Arthur a moment to compose himself while your attention was elsewhere.

To say Arthur was excited about Dutch’s plan was... an understatement.

He’d hardly believed the proposition when it left his mentor’s lips. At first, he thought it was a joke, some harsh gimmick you and him had cooked up to embarrass Arthur into admitting he wanted you in that way. Because admission was all it was, no persuasion was necessary given the number of times Arthur had tugged on himself with eyes screwed tight and gritted teeth as he fought back any audible sound that could let onto what he was up to in the confines of his tent. He’d wanted to experience you in that way from the moment he’d met you. In truth, he loved your asserted and self-assured manner and he did have a great deal of respect for you for not bowing to any of the boys; not even Dutch.

But when the man himself suggested it, putting the image of you in Arthur’s head doing exactly that – on your knees for him, shedding your clothes for him, opening your legs for him...

Well, it was all he’d damn well thought about since.

Dutch’s reasoning hadn’t helped. Teach her a lesson and remind her who’s in charge and but make her pleasure our top priority had all but circled Arthur’s mind like some sort of chant since he’d uttered them in a hushed voice by the light of the campfire one night when everyone else was asleep. Dutch always did have a talent for painting a pretty picture, and he’d made this scenario into a masterpiece.

Then, Dutch began to move and broke Arthur out of his impending stupor. He rounded the bed, prompting you to shuffle your legs onto it and back a little so you were no longer sideways. Knees bent, but still propped up on your elbows, you watched as he all but prowled to be stood at the foot of the bed and stopped, chuckling gently. It didn’t lessen your building unease with the situation.

But Dutch’s face was soft, kind almost, his expression reminding you of a proud one but that wasn’t quite the best description - you couldn’t put a pin on it but you remained hopeful that it was borne from a genuine place. He shook his head slightly. “We’re going to fix our little problem on this job today.”

Problem? “Problem? I – I wasn’t aware we had a problem... sir.”

The way Dutch’s eyes lit up at the end of your sentence didn’t go unnoticed by you. The corner of his lip tugged slightly and he nodded again. “That is much better.”

“Better?” you turned to face Arthur, seemingly frozen in his spot and thawed by your gaze, mobilising to join Dutch’s side at the end of the bed and mentally shaking off his rapidly expanding imagination to resume his persona of hardened outlaw.

Neither of them answered you, and as the gentle thrum of your pulse picked up beneath your skin you darted your gaze between them.

“She looks like a little deer,” Arthur observed and Dutch hummed in agreement. His hands drifted to his gun belt and a brief flash of fear struck you but was soon numbed by the click of his buckle which preceded the soft brush of leather as it slid out of the fasten. He held the gun belt away from his hips in one hand before letting it drop to the floor, and despite your knowledge of the sound it’d make the thunk of it hitting the wood made your shoulders tense.

“I do love those doe eyes,” he said and Arthur took it as his cue to remove his own gun belt, which he did with admittedly more haste. “Don’t you, Arthur?”

“I’ll be honest Dutch,” Arthur huffed a chuckle, “it’s not her eyes I’m thinkin’ about.”

A quiet warning side-eye from Dutch simmered Arthur down somewhat, who cleared his throat while the tension built in your face. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not sat right here? Can one of you please explain what this is all about? You’re making me feel very... unnerved.”

“The problem,” Dutch began diplomatically, posture relaxed yet solid, “is that you’ve been forgetting the chain of command recently.”

You weren’t enjoying this game. You’d come here for the job, waited while they were late and damn them if they weren’t going to let you prove yourself and instead act like you’re some lazy leech. Thoroughly sick of their recent affliction for ganging up on you, and in your opinion an unfair view on your contribution to the gang, you shuffled forward and pushed up to stand between the two of them. You’d never cast much thought to how tall they both were until this moment. “Whatever you say. Can we just get on with the job?”

Dutch smirked, pleased, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “If that’s what your heart desires, then by all means.”

The pressure from his palm increased and you looked at it and then back to him, brow scrunched in questioning.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, lips remaining parted around the word, and you did so hesitantly.

“Why are you both acting strange?” your voice came out quiet and you felt small at that moment; them being dangerous men was a fact you often forgot. Dutch seemed to notice. Arthur was too busy anticipating what was to come.

“Relax.”

It wasn’t much, but you took it. Perhaps you weren’t in trouble, but you did know that doing what was asked of you would lead to clarity eventually. So, you shuffled back and leaned down onto your forearms once more.

“Are you going to tell me what the plan is, then?”

The creases in the corners of both their eyes deepened, a wave of excitement washing over their faces. “Oh,” Dutch chuckled. “We’ve got a big plan for you.”

He leaned forward, running his index finger from your outer ankle and up the side of your calf, watching the motion with intent before flicking his eyes up to you.

Oh.

Were you dreaming? Unlike all the previous signs, you couldn’t ignore this one. The gentleness of touch almost had you thinking twice about the man’s... men’s motive with you, that perhaps it was all in your head. Perhaps.

You didn’t dare look at the contact the two of you shared and instead held Dutch's gaze, not entirely sure how you would deal with it if they were making a pass at you. Just as you’d formulated enough excuses for their behaviour and plucked up the courage to speak, Arthur chuckled to himself darkly.

“Two of ‘em, actually.”

Your attention snapped to the younger man, his eyes not meeting yours and instead scanning your body laid out in front of him. Nerves building, you gulped minimally. “What... Plan are you talking about?”

A devilish grin grew on Arthur’s face as though he’d been itching for you to ask that very question. The hand resting loosely on his belt journeyed to his crotch and grasped his growing bulge, your eyes widening as he shunted it for effect.

Dutch’s own eyes rolled at the display and he stood, dropping his arm at his side. “You can be rather crude sometimes, Arthur.”

“Watchu mean?” he scoffed with a boyish grin.

Gesturing to you, Dutch raised his eyebrows. “Ain’t no way to behave around a lady.”

You were about to agree when Arthur tsked through his teeth. “Won’t be much of a lady once we’re finished with her.”

“Hey,” you scrambled backwards and sat up, holding your hands in surrender. “I don’t know what is going on here, but if you think for one second I’m going to lay with you both you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Ah,” rumbled Dutch, an amused smile growing on his face. “The lady doth protest.”

“Is that really why you brought me here? So you could use me for some -”

“Now, now,” Dutch brought his hands up, clearly attempting to add some seriousness to his act. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

“That so?” you countered, crossing your arms in defiance. “Seems to me like I’ve got a perfect handle on this situation.”

“No, not at all. In fact -”

Arthur’s bored sigh interrupted Dutch’s sentence and he pointedly pulled his boots off one by one before putting a knee on the bed and not stopping until you had to lie back and he was hovering over you, an arm on either side of your head.

You widened your eyes in alarm, trying to think of something to say but for the first time in a while you were coming up empty. You weren’t scared of them, of what they were up to, and that was the worst thing about it. However silly it was, bracketed in by Arthur you felt entirely safe. In fact, a large part of you was... curious. If they were here to be intimate with you, which wasn’t something you could deny to be the case any longer, you weren’t sure you’d have it in you to say no. The prospect of taking them both was nothing short of exhilarating.

“Darlin’,” Arthur cooed softly, his index finger and thumb coming to rest on your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze which searched your face before landing on your eyes. He angled his head and offered you a warm smile. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya. Way I see it, you can let old Dutch drone on about what his plan is,” you didn’t miss Dutch’s huff in the background, but Arthur’s lips coming down so close to your neck that you could feel his warm breath began to tune out everything that wasn’t him, “or you can just let us show ya.”

He paused, not following through with his words just yet but you’d involuntarily bared your neck to him, clearing your throat when you realised what a precarious situation you’d gotten yourself into. “Arthur, I -”

Arthur groaned, cutting you off and running his thumb back and forth on the side of your chin. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear my name come out your mouth all breathy like that.” He dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, angling slightly so his nose fit in the contour of the crook of your neck.

“Arthur,” Dutch warned sternly, and he unwillingly let go of your chin and sat back on his haunches.

“You’re jus’ mad I’m the one that seduced her an’ not you,” Arthur tutted, eyes not leaving your flushed face with a ghost of a proud smile fading onto his.

“I’m not playing your games right now, Arthur,” Dutch countered, mainly irritated at the grain of truth held in Arthur’s accusation. “But... perhaps you’re right.”

Arthur registered Dutch’s words a beat later, cockily raising his eyebrows to turn and smile at the man with a glint in his eye. “I didn’t quite catch that – you're saying I’m right?” Arthur huffed an incredulous laugh, “and you’re wrong?”

Dutch tensed his jaw, rolling his shoulders back before clapping a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I have no problem admitting my wrongdoings,” you suppressed a mocking snicker, “in fact, I think I may have the wrong idea about this whole plan in the first place. Perhaps our little miss here has learnt by example, since you appear to have forgotten the chain of command too, son.”

At Arthur’s scowl, Dutch lowered down slightly to level their gazes. “I am perfectly capable of carrying out this particular job myself,” he flicked his eyes to you briefly and licked his bottom lip before looking back at Arthur, “in fact, I’d be more than happy to have her to myself. Is that something you want?”

“No, Dutch,” Arthur grumbled and Dutch’s expression softened into an accomplished one while you looked between them, bewildered.

“You forget, Dutch, that I haven’t agreed to sleep with either of you,” you scoffed, with the intent that if you could convince them you didn’t want it, you could convince yourself too.

As though reading your mind, Dutch tilted his head down to look at you. For once, he allowed the silence to speak for him.

“Besides,” you broke under the tense air far too soon, “I don’t even know why you’re trying to seduce me in the first place.”

“Well,” Dutch began, removing his hand from Arthur’s shoulder, “I was trying to explain earlier.” He pondered his next sentence, a sly smile growing on his face. He removed his hat, placing it nearly on a table by the window and pushed his pomaded hair back. “But,” his already low voice lowered further, “I reckon we should compromise; do a little show and tell.”

You looked to a listening Arthur and back to Dutch, who slowly walked round to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of it beside you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His warm, calloused fingertips almost made you forget yourself and it was an effort not to lean into his hand.

“I don’t think you realise how much I value you, darlin’,” Dutch returned his hand to himself and you blinked owlishly at his change of tone. “Your hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed; I know we need the money but life is not all about work. Sometimes... it’s about play, too,” he smirked, his voice evenly laced with sincerity and seduction. “So, me and Arthur here,” Dutch’s hand crept onto your thigh, firmly holding the flesh, “have decided to give you a hand or two with some well-deserved relaxin’, while thanking you for said efforts.”

With Arthur watching Dutch’s hand with intent, you felt like a grand prize on display with the lust-filled expressions on the faces of these two men. The thought of them desiring you, discussing you, sharing you...

“But,” Dutch’s tone sharpened and he squeezed your thigh, bringing his face closer to yours, “what we do not appreciate is you forgetting your role.” At your narrowed brow, Dutch elaborated. “You are well aware of the hierarchy, miss.”

“It’s just that -”

“I know,” Dutch interrupted softly. “You want to help. Be that as it may, that does not put you above me, nor does it put you above Arthur.”

It was a fair comment. Maybe you had been a little bossy recently, but they at least seemed to understand the intent behind your actions. What wasn’t clear was the relation that had to the current circumstance. “Why does that matter with this, though?”

The two men shared a knowing glance and looked back to you. “Oh darlin',” chuckled Arthur.

“What?”

“While we’re here for you, you are also here for us. We’d like to get what we’re owed from you.”

At the sight of these two men looming over you, predatory looks tainting their eyes, something inside you weakened and you shifted minimally on the bed. It was enough of a tell for them and they smirked in unison, the bastards; they knew exactly what feeling had just shot through you.

“What do you think, Arthur?” Dutch teased.

“I think she wants it.”

They looked at you expectantly and Dutch raised a quizzical brow. He leaned in, skirting around to your jaw and pressing his lips against it. “You know how persuasive I can be,” he murmured before placing another peck.

The light tingling sensation pricking the surface of your skin began to seep deeper, your pulse thrumming with arousal and you could no longer pick out an excuse not to go through with it. The building hunger in Arthur’s eyes and Dutch’s moustache tickling your face eviscerated your final straw.

You turned your head to capture Dutch’s lips with yours, feeling him smirk at your eagerness and tenderly kiss you back twice until a cold brush of air took their place. Opening your eyes, you were met with him pulling away and you frowned, leaning in once more and he placed his index finger over your mouth.

“Tell me who’s in charge,” he purred, but didn’t give you room to answer as the tip of his finger pressed down and you opened your mouth to allow him in, sucking gently and feeling set alight by how he bit down on his bottom lip. A faint taste of gunmetal and tobacco transferred onto your tongue and he lewdly pushed his finger in and out, stopping once he’d created a rhythm and pulling his now shining finger from your mouth. He used it to tip your chin up, marvelling at your undone and half-lidded gaze.

“Tell me,” he commanded softly.

“You are, Dutch.”

“And then?”

“Then,” you glanced to a smug-looking Arthur, who was using every inch of his willpower not to pounce on you, and rolled your eyes. “Arthur.”

“I don’t think I like her attitude, Dutch.”

“Me neither.”

“Fine, sorry. Then Arth -”

Dutch let go of your chin and held up his hand, silencing you. “Too late now. I was going to start off by asking dear old Arthur here to pleasure you with his mouth as a reward for your hard work, but looks like we’ll have to get the brat out of you first.” At your questioning frown, Dutch brushed a hand over your hair lovingly and down your face until his thumb landed on the pad of your bottom lip, pulling it apart from your top one. “Use this pretty mouth of yours on him, instead.”

You could practically hear Arthur’s buzz of excitement at Dutch’s words, the younger man unable to sit still on the bed.

“And what are you going to do?” you asked Dutch, noticing the growing hardness in his pants in your peripheral vision.

Dutch smirked, pleased that you were concerning yourself with his part in all this, and pulled out the cigar that was weighing down his pocket and held it up for you to see. “I’m going to enjoy this, while I enjoy,” he looked between you and Arthur, “this.”

With that, Dutch stood and turned, making his way to the comfortable chair in the corner of the room and you turned your head to look at a grinning Arthur.

“You aren’t ever going to let me live this down, are you,” you scoffed and his grin widened.

“If I have my way, darlin’, this won’t be a one-time thing,” he adjusted his crotch absent-mindedly, unable to stop his wandering eyes and leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek, “least not between us.”

“Less of that, Arthur,” Dutch warned gently, hands clasped on his lap and cigar not yet lit.

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and your cheeks grew warm, further still with the subsequent kiss that was placed on your other one. “I’m gonna kiss you now, darlin’,” he whispered and nudged his nose against yours and you tilted your head up to reach him, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm lips pressed onto yours, his stubble scratching against your skin. It was surprising that he managed to be gentle considering his excitement for the situation, but even Arthur’s mind recognised this as your first kiss and wanted to savour some of the moment.

He brought his hand to hold your face and yours found his waist in turn, the two of you edging your bodies closer and deepening the kiss. You sighed happily into it and felt his mouth open, allowing your tongue to cross the boundary with ease. The pad of Arthur’s thumb grazed your cheekbone as you continued to explore each other's mouths.

“If I wanted to watch a romance I’d have gone to a picture house,” Dutch scoffed, you and Arthur pulling apart to give him a glance, his posture remained as it was previously, before smirking at each other. You glanced down, running a fingertip over the button on his pants and being thankful for the kissing as an excuse for the excess saliva that entered your mouth at the thought. “Suck his cock, sweet one.”

When you pushed the button out through the hole, Arthur’s chest tensed in an attempt to calm his shortening breaths and you glanced up at him through your lashes.

“Stand up for me, cowboy,” you cooed, deciding against teasing him for the blush that spread on his cheeks and nose. He did so, but quickly rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat as he reminded himself why this was all happening in the first place.

“Was gonna do that anyway,” he mumbled, “not doin’ it ‘cause you asked me to.”

Dutch’s mocking chuckle was quiet and Arthur shot him a glare as you suppressed your own laughter, moving to kneel on the bed while pulling his work pants halfway down. You eyed the bulge of Arthur’s hard cock and the small dab of precum showing through his union suit, gently running your hand over him and feeling your confidence growing at his even shorter breaths.

After caressing him for a moment, reminding your imagination not to get too ahead of itself at the thought of him inside you, you began undoing buttons to free him from its confines. Once his cock sprang free you glanced up at him, offering a coy smile at the almost-painful display of restraint on his face. You licked your palm, finding a good use for that excess saliva, and grasped him. You intently watched the pleasure grow on his face and offered a few slow pumps of his shaft until he managed to open his eyes and look down at you, a hand finding its way into your hair to move the strands away from your face.

You leaned forward, kissing the side of him and the sound of want from his throat warned you off teasing him further, bringing your tongue out to run along a particularly prominent vein until reaching the head, pausing there to get a taste of his precum. The strike of a match made you pull off, looking over to Dutch who took a drag of his cigar and held his hand up in a carry-on gesture.

You obeyed, returning your attention to Arthur’s cock and closing your mouth around the end, to which his fingertips tensed on your scalp – urging you to take him further in. Well, since he was the one ‘in charge’ you could hardly say no. With your hand on his thigh for stability, you took him halfway in and felt sparks in your core at Arthur’s moan in relief, his head tilting upwards while he thanked whatever powers existed that brought him to this moment.

“Oh, that’s it sweetheart,” he sighed breathily, risking a glance down at you with your mouth full of him and biting his tongue at how quickly the sight edged him to the brink.

The unravelling of Arthur Morgan spurred you on while you tasted his most intimate part, bringing your head back and forth in time with the small but restrained thrusts of his hips. His hand stilled in your hair as his shoulders dropped at what you assumed was one of the few times he really had the opportunity to let go; despite his boyish insistence on being hard-faced and stoic, his deeply caring nature urged him to overwork himself at every opportunity. His physical relaxation was as close as you expected to get to the truth about his constant underlying fatigue and worry, and you took it upon yourself to let him enjoy you as he deserved.

Relaxing the back of your throat, you hollowed out your cheeks and prepared to take him all the way in, moving your head forward as your wet lips ventured further down his shaft until your nose nestled into his light brown hairs. A snippet of a higher moan than what you’d heard previous escaped Arthur’s clamped-shut lips, and you brushed your palms up and down the back of his thighs to keep him relaxed and soothe him. Breathing heavy, both of his hands held the side of your head and he looked at you with apprehension. You managed a small nod, allowing him to do as he pleased.

Anchored to you, he slid out and back in, out and in, out and in, each time nudging the back of your throat and you pushed through the urge to pull off; the noises of want coming from him far outweighing your desire for comfort. He increased his pace, losing himself in the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him and then suddenly pulled out, squeezing the base of his cock and you pouted up at him.

“Shit,” he muttered, attempting to calm his rapid breaths. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

Dutch chuckled and stood, setting his still-lit cigar on the bedside table before walking leisurely over and kneeling behind you on the bed. “This is why you go for a proper man, darlin’,” he murmured in your ear and ran his fingertips up your flank. “Not a youngster who wets his pants every five minutes.”

“You’re just a jealous old man who’s bitterly passed his prime, Dutch,” Arthur shot back, blinking up at the ceiling and thinking of anything that would keep his orgasm at bay.

Fingertips pressing into your hips, Dutch kissed the side of your neck and sighed with arousal, hot breath landing on your skin. He pulled you into him so your back met his front and you felt his arousal too, thick and hard as it pressed into you and keened at the thought, fluttering your eyes closed and baring your neck to give him better access.

“Let us take care of you,” he purred, clearing his throat and huffing a small laugh through his nose. “Sweetheart.”

You smirked, but decided to come to Arthur’s defence when the man tutted and glared at Dutch. “I think it’s nice.” Arthur tensed his jaw, unable to stop the heat burning in his body as he watched you grow weak in Dutch’s arms with the man’s hands gently stroking your sides and stomach.

Dutch hummed indifferently, breathing in the scent of your skin as it too grew hot. “I don’t think you want nice.”

“W-What makes you think that?” you breathed, bringing your hands over his as they settled on your lower abdomen.

You felt his smirk against your skin as you relaxed back into his warmth, fully seduced and content. “You’re with two wanted outlaws who have a single desire of fucking you,” Dutch lamented, “and you appear to be right at home.”

A small chuckle sounded in your throat, transmuting into a quiet whine when Dutch’s talented hands slid further down to your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your skirt.

“That’s it,” he whispered softly against the shell of your ear. Then his hands were gone and he shifted behind you and the faint burning of tobacco sounded as he took a deep drag, chest puffing out and nudging your back. Dutch brushed his hand over your shoulder and to your chin, taking it in a firm grip and tilting your head back to look at him. He leaned in and kissed you, releasing the smoke into your mouth as he did. You coughed slightly in surprise but his grip remained firm, holding your face to his. Eventually, you breathed the second-hand smoke in from his mouth and relaxed some, and once Dutch was satisfied with your pliancy, he pulled away from you, pushing the underside of your chin to keep your mouth shut. He smiled proudly and took another long drag, this time blowing the smoke up into the air.

You watched as it rose and faded while your throat burned, Dutch humming a laugh at your hazy expression and stubbing the cigar out to free his hands up so he could touch you. “Oh, my girl,” he began, palms snaking around your waist to nestle your form into his chest and placing a chaste kiss on your cheekbone while the smoke escaped your nose, “we are going to have some fun with you.”

Arthur stood in front of you, frankly feeling left out now that he’d calmed himself down, and placed his hands on his hips. “I think it’s time for us to explore this body of yours, miss,” he smirked down at you cheekily, cocking his head to the side and you blushed with a nod of agreement.

“Sit back for us,” said Dutch as he shifted away to allow you to move. Turning your body, you lay back on the bed with your head resting on the soft pillow and blinked up at him, more than happy to play your part.

“Like this?”

“Just like that.” Dutch glanced to Arthur who knelt on your other side and they seemed to communicate through gaze alone, a honed practice through years of riding together, and Arthur’s attention turned to your patient body while Dutch moved off the bed to walk around and sit at the end, loosening his collar as he went.

Arthur propped himself up on his forearm and leaned over you, blocking your view of Dutch but you could feel him start to get to work undressing you by loosening your skirt. Arthur’s breath came down hot on your skin as he touched his nose to yours. He kissed you once, then began littering your jaw and neck with more pecks and sucks as Dutch pulled at the fabric of your skirt and you lifted your hips to allow the garment to slide off. Arthur flicked his tongue out over your collarbone and you sighed happily, twirling the end of his overgrown hair around your index finger. He began to unbutton your shirt with one hand, impressing you with his multitasking ability and when it opened you shifted your torso up so he could reveal your arms and discard the shirt to the floor.

Broad hands ran up your thighs, kisses pressed to the inside of your knee, making a path upwards as Arthur’s made a path downwards to the top of your breasts. He admired the soft flesh poking out and undid the stay at your waist, discarding it so he could view the natural form that resided beneath. His palm ran up and stopped just beneath your breast, the cocky outlaw’s own clothes feeling far too tight and restrictive given the current situation. He persevered, looking at you with eyes glinting as the corners of his mouth tilted upwards. The eye contact remained as he lowered his head and you watched him kiss the middle of your chest through the fabric. His hand arrived at its destination, and you moaned gently as he squeezed the flesh like he’d been waiting to do so all day.

Dutch took his opportunity as your knees relaxed and your legs opened for him, exposing the damp patch between your legs where your garment stuck to your skin. The traced outline of your pussy sent a pulse through his cock and he brought a hand to his bulge in an attempt to extend his patience. You would be worth the wait.

His restraint only went so far, and it seemed to be a shared experience between the men as Arthur’s tongue teased your hardening nipple, wetting the fabric with his saliva, and Dutch brushed a knuckle over the patch, eliciting a full-body shiver from you.

Arthur hummed his amusement around the nipple he’d sucked into his mouth as Dutch made himself comfortable with his face at the perfect height to observe your most precious part. “Shit, Arthur,” he swallowed, mirth laced into his tone, “our girl really is enjoying this.”

Embarrassment washed over you briefly and your legs threatened to close, but Dutch’s palms held them firmly open. “No no, you keep this on display for me.” One hand journeyed up your leg until his thumb could run over the damp cotton and subsequently apply pressure to you, and the other came to hold your hip while his forearms kept your legs clamped to the bed. Arthur released you to get a look for himself, biting down on his lip at the thought of you all wet through your pants. “Goddamn,” he marvelled then turned back to you, “you do surprise me.” At your scowl, he offered you a genuine smile and shifted up to plant a kiss on your lips. “You’re such a sweet girl,” he murmured against them, “just be sweet to us. You don’t need no barriers up here.”

As his honeyed words had their desired effect of softening you some, Dutch’s tongue pressed expertly against your slit and wettened the fabric further as it slid down, his lips subsequently closing around the region of your clit and getting his first taste of you. You moaned into Arthur’s mouth as he kissed you again and your palms flew to the sides of his neck to use him as support lest you fly right off the bed.

Dutch sucked gently, the fabric becoming almost see-through as Arthur chuckled at your responsiveness, resuming his appraisal of your breasts. He took one in each hand, kneading them and kissing around both nipples until he could no longer wait to see you in all your glory, Dutch sharing the thought.

Both men paused, at an impasse thanks to your full-bodied undergarment. They looked at each other and then to you and you chuckled smugly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you caught your breath. “Don’t look at me, I’m not the one in charge here.”

Arthur tutted fondly and Dutch gave you a daring look. He leaned to the side, picking something up off the floor though you couldn’t see what. “Arthur,” he commanded, throwing a hunting knife to him that he thankfully caught, “get this thing off her.”

“I don’t think so.” You brought your hands to your chest as Arthur twirled the knife around his fingers.

“We’ll get you another,” Dutch promised, nodding to Arthur to continue. Arthur smiled at you, up for the challenge, taking each wrist in his hands and pinning them above your head. “You gonna be a good girl and keep these here?”

You bit down on your lip and nodded, feeling delightfully powerless under Arthur’s strong grip as his eyes blew wide with lust and excitement. He waited there a beat, daring you to try and disobey and looking pleased when he removed his hands and yours remained in position. He took the knife and placed the tip at your belly button, sliding the blade up until the fabric was ruined and your breasts revealed. He licked his lips hungrily, unable to tear his eyes away as he passed the knife down to Dutch before nodding at your arms to come back down so he could relieve you completely. As you complied, the knife clattered to the floor and you looked down in time to see Dutch with a hand on either side of the incision, pointedly ripping open the rest and you jolted slightly at the sound and the cold air meeting your wetness.

Without needing to be asked, you lifted your hips for Dutch to pull the rest of your garment off and discard that to the floor, leaving you completely bare.

The atmosphere shifted. The men’s eyes drank in your body, minds running wild with their plans for marking and claiming it as their own. They were silenced as though in the presence of a divine deity, palpable long-awaited tension seeping all around you and filled with desire thanks to these two men that emanated it.

All at the sight of you.

Something about it felt right, despite how wrong it was. It was absurd, really, but you decided to milk the situation for all it was worth. You took a breath to expand your chest for Arthur and widened your legs for Dutch, smiling wickedly at the pair of them. “I’m starting to question who’s really in charge here.”

Dutch’s nose twitched with irritation as he narrowed his eyes at you and then honed in on the space between your legs. “Shut the brat up, Arthur.”

A lot happened all at once after Arthur muttered “with pleasure.” Teeth bit down on your nipple, a hand pressing onto your flank to keep you still and another over your mouth, and a tongue swiped up your slit, tearing a moan so lewd it took you a moment for you to register that you were the one that made it. The sound alone, even while muffled through Arthur’s palm, was enough to ignite the primal desire of the two men enjoying your body, Dutch licking up everything your cunt had to offer and Arthur adding more small bruises and bite marks to the collection growing on your chest.

You writhed under the sensation, channelling it into your hips and bucking into Dutch’s mouth as the wet pad of his tongue entered you, lapping up your juices and soaking his moustache. Arthur’s grip on your breasts increased, verging on painful but he soothed you by licking up your cleavage and not stopping until he reached your ear, sucking on your lobe and growling as you gasped, arching up to him and grasping at his sides.

He took your wrists in his hands and pinned you once more, taking a moment to admire you in this state and once his gaze landed on your lips, he didn’t hesitate in pressing his against them and initiating a sloppy kiss, both of your accumulated saliva mingling as your tongues circled each other. Meanwhile, Dutch’s tongue continued to tend to your... other lips.

It continued to fuck your cunt, and you briefly wondered how much his jaw must be hurting but your attention soon turned back to Arthur who nipped at your bottom lip, noticing your thoughts drifting away from him.

Lost in his wet kisses for some time, you broke away and jolted when something wet pressed against your other hole, one that as far as you were concerned should not be included in this.

“Dutch!” you yelped, glaring down at the man who flicked his eyes up to meet you, looking hazy and drunk, lost on what resided between your legs. A sly smile grew on his face, and his tongue repeated its earlier motion, circling the ring of muscle between your cheeks while confidently retaining eye contact.

“What,” you yelped again, trying to wriggle backwards out of pure embarrassment and you ignored Arthur’s chuckle, “the hell are you doing?”

He sighed, taking his mouth off you entirely and the air felt cooler thanks to all of his spit mixed in with your slick, which wasn’t much thanks to Dutch greedily drinking it up, that encompassed the entirety of your nether regions. “Darlin’,” he began, almost sounding as though he was trying to comfort you as he held the sides of your thighs in his hands. “How else do you plan on having two men fuck you?” at your bewildered expression, he continued and Arthur waited patiently, allowing himself to continue fondling your breast and you tried to not focus on the sensation as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “You’ve got two holes, and we’ve got two cocks,” Dutch said plainly.

“But –” you cleared your throat, “won’t that hurt?”

Dutch smiled, kissing the inside of your thigh and Arthur’s hand came to your jaw, guiding your gaze over to him. His expression was amused but slightly softened which soothed your concern somewhat. “Not if Dutch relaxes you, which is what he’s trying to do right now.”

You looked back to Dutch who raised his brows in agreement, and you pouted with no further excuses coming to mind. The idea intrigued you, but it was still new and strange. Though, something about the two of them fucking into you sent your mind into a tizzy...

“What I’d give to read those thoughts right now,” Dutch hummed, moving the tip of his index finger onto your clit to lazily rub over it, gently keeping you stimulated. Once again, you relaxed under his touch. “Trust in me, darlin’. I know what I’m doing.”

Still, your mind whirled with intrigue and uncertainty. “What about -”

“Arthur,” Dutch commanded with the man’s name alone, who proceeded to silence your array of questions with the crash of his lips into yours. Neither man seemed to want to give you time to ask them, more intent on showing as it was previously decided, both of their tongues working in tandem and when Dutch’s made its way south again you lost all trails of thought.

His finger slipped into your cunt, slowly and gently fucking you and soon adding a second at your body’s willingness to partake. Your walls clenched around him, the cold metal of his ring nudging your skin every time he thrust his fingers in. He curled them upwards, gently testing how aroused you were and your toes curled in response at the pressure on that spot inside you, Dutch watching with infatuation as you took in his soaked fingers.

His thumb slid down, pressing onto your hole and you couldn’t help but squirm again. It moved off, and when it returned there was a cool substance there, almost like jelly. “It’ll help,” Dutch murmured when he noticed your expression and circled it around, toying with the pressure and on the next thrust in of his fingers he attempted to penetrate your ass with his thumb, but your thighs tensed at the intrusion.

“Arthur,” Dutch said, breaking the man out of his hazy obsession with your breasts. “I’m gonna need you down here to help her relax.”

Arthur glanced at you and you offered him a short nod, apprehensive at how it would feel but knowing you were still willing to try. He trailed kisses down your stomach, pulling your lips apart to get a look at you and groaning at the site. He drew the tip of his finger down the line of your slit, slowly collecting your juices and coming back up again. Your torso relaxed and you dropped your head back, Dutch’s fingers pulling out so Arthur’s could slide in. Dutch opted for using his tongue once more, drawing over your hole with his tongue flat, and Arthur took some inspiration, bringing his mouth down on your pussy to gently suck on your clit.

“Oh... my god,” you breathed, both of their tongues working to build up your pleasure and you grasped at the sheets and widened your legs as much as you could.

“You like that, darlin’?” asked Dutch, muffled thanks to his current position.

“Mhm,” was all you could respond with, and Arthur doubled down on his efforts, lapping at your cunt while Dutch slid a finger into your ass. It was a different kind of feeling, but you didn’t have the urge to wriggle away this time.

“That’s it,” Dutch cooed, “lean into that feelin’.”

And you did. You moved your hips in time with his motions, feeling yourself relax with Arthur diligently tending to you with his tongue. Your body throbbed, arousal coming through you in waves but you still needed more, one taste being more than enough to make you greedy. “More,” you whispered, and within moments Dutch slowly pushed a second finger in to join the first.

This time it felt like more of a stretch, thankfully not painful but enough that you actively had to focus your mind on the pleasure, breathing steadily and fighting against the urge to close your legs. They continued, each lick and thrust bringing you closer to the brink and you moaned, bringing your hands to grip Arthur’s head as he sucked on just the right spot.

“Arthur, I’m gonna -” you warned, and the man groaned like he was eating his favourite meal.

“I wanna taste you, come on,” he said, barely taking his mouth off you to speak and relishing in being held down to your pussy like this. Dutch took the opportunity to add a third finger, not wanting to hurt you when the time came for him to use his cock, and the fullness along with the attention on your clit made your legs shake and you pushed your hips up, a silent moan punctuated with a stuck breath as you tensed, your orgasm washing through your body as Arthur drank up all you had to give him.

The motion of Dutch’s thrusts slowed but his fingers remained sheathed, and Arthur’s vigorous licking and sucking turned to light kisses as you sunk into the bed. The two men looked up to observe you and you chuckled breathlessly at their flushed faces. “That was...”

“Delightful,” Arthur finished, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and moving up the bed to lie beside you, pressing his lips to yours to give you a taste of yourself. At the same time, Dutch’s fingers left you and he littered your inner thighs with small pecks.

“We ain’t half done yet,” Dutch informed you, and Arthur brushed a strand of hair from your forehead that was stuck there thanks to the sweat.

“You’ve got more in ya, ain’t you darlin’?” he asked lowly, watching your chest in raptures as it rose and fell with your slowing breaths. “I know you got more for us.”

You nodded and opened your eyes to the sight of Dutch making his way to his feet, unbuttoning his pants and revealing a peak at the base of his cock. He appeared to think twice, moving around the bed and tapping your shoulder for you to sit up. You frowned at him.

“I’ve been dying to get into that sweet pussy of yours. Plus, I think Arthur would be happy to taste you again,” he nodded to the man, who raised his eyebrows in agreement.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m naked.”

“You only just realisin’?” Arthur chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re both still fully dressed!”

Arthur shrugged at Dutch. “The lady has a point.”

“Fair is fair,” Dutch hummed, unbuttoning his shirt as Arthur pulled his over his head. You smiled, looking between them as various bits of flesh were revealed, and while Arthur kept his pants on, Dutch shunted his down and stepped out of them, revealing his frustrated-looking cock. He settled his hands on his hips while you looked him up and down, almost salivating at the sight of this usually well-put-together man as bare as the day is long. He hummed a laugh and cupped your chin, forcing your gaze up to his eyes. “You are a precious little thing.”

He then tapped your shoulder again and you sat up, allowing him to swing a leg over and pull you up into his chest, wiry black hairs tickling your back. His palms slid around your stomach and he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “A precious little thing that we are going to ruin.”

Arthur crossed his arms, kneeling on the bed between your legs and looking crassly at Dutch. “Thought we couldn’t talk like that because she’s a lady?”

You turned your head to raise your eyebrows at Dutch smugly, who mirrored your expression.

“Do you forget where my tongue has just been, miss?”

Pressing your lips together, you shrunk in on yourself but it only nestled you further into Dutch.

“That’s what I thought. Now if you wouldn’t mind -” his hands ran down to your inner thighs, spreading you open much to Arthur’s delight, “you’re going to let us use you like a good little girl.”

Hearing Dutch talk to you like this was... different. You were so used to giving him a piece of your mind that you itched to do the same right now, except his words liquified your core and much to your dismay, you enjoyed being spoken to like this. It was filthy, he knew it, Arthur knew it, even the damn wardrobe knew it, but you could all relax under the mutual understanding you shared. Filthy was something you were all up for experiencing.

So, you relaxed onto him, bringing a hand down to his cock and rubbing it against yourself, coating it with your own slick. You turned your head again to look over your shoulder at his tense and restrained expression, then pressed your lips to his jaw and took in the scent of arousal dripping off him in his sweat and smiled sweetly. “Your actions gonna match up to your words for once, Dutch?”

Dutch’s gaze snapped to you and Arthur breathed out in disbelief, but you didn’t back down and instead just batted your eyelashes. His lips curled up into a sly smile and he caressed the side of your face, nudging your nose with his and leaning down, your eyes fluttering closed.

He paused a centimetre from your lips, and instead of kissing you sweetly, he thrust his hips and penetrated you right to the hilt.

A surprised choke left you and your head dropped back at the sudden intrusion, your walls tightening around him and your nails digging into his thighs. You opened your eyes to look at him when he held there, finding his jaw hard though his eyes twinkled down at you like you were his new favourite toy. "If you wanna act like a brat, we’ll treat you like one.”

He slowly moved out and then repeated his motion, grunting as he did and Arthur remained kneeled, palming himself over his pants as he watched Dutch defile you. “You certainly are a brave one,” he nodded at Dutch, biting down on his tongue to restrain himself. “How she feel?”

Dutch hummed contently, thrusting into you for good measure and the sound you made was music to his ears. “Warm, tight... just perfect. Like she was made for me.”

Arthur smirked, his fingertips gliding up and down his clothed shaft and you glanced at him with half-lidded eyes, reaching a hand out. He slid his palm onto yours, but you pulled back and reached for his head. Arthur acquiesced to your desires, leaning forward to allow your fingers to grasp the back of his head and pull him down to where you ached.

“What did I say about making demands?” Dutch murmured into your hair, his thrusts now at a more manageable pace.

“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” you scoffed and Arthur paused, lying on his front and leaning on his elbows, glancing up from between your legs.

“Actually, I do.”

“What?”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I -” you faltered, Dutch stilling inside you and Arthur tilting his head expectantly. You swallowed, determined not to let them win this game. “I want your mouth on me, Arthur.”

His eyes shifted behind you to Dutch, who cleared his throat.

You sighed sharply, and with your arousal currently governing your thoughts, you decided to placate them so you could at least get what you wanted. “And I want you to fuck me, Dutch.”

Arthur’s head moved down an inch, and you attempted to buck into his mouth but Dutch stopped you with his hands on your thighs. “Remember your manners, girl,” he whispered.

“Please. Please... I need to come,” you sighed, resting your head back on Dutch’s chest.

“Fuck,” Arthur muttered, promptly diving into your pussy with a languid stroke of his tongue through your folds. You keened, enough to make Dutch suck a breath through his teeth at the slight shift in angle. He dropped his hands to squeeze your ass, holding you in place and began fucking up into you.

Dutch’s thick cock filling you felt divine, and coupled with Arthur’s talented tongue you hardly knew what to do with yourself, one hand in Arthur’s hair and one hand holding Dutch’s thigh as you attempted to brace yourself through all the sensations.

“I’d have fucked you much sooner if I knew how well you took cock,” Dutch grunted into your hair and you whined, lolling your head to the side to nestle your face into his neck.

“You f-feel so good,” you said through a punched-out breath and the man’s chest vibrated with an approving hum underneath you.

“You like Arthur’s tongue, too?” he asked and you nodded weakly, already feeling overstimulated but too lost in the pleasure to care. “We treat you good, don’t we girl?”

“Yes, Dutch, you -” your sentence broke into a moan, Dutch’s pace slowing as his hands snaked around your stomach. Arthur slowed his pace in turn, looking up at you from his place between your legs.

“Alright, I want a turn with her now,” he stated and you shot him a hazy look, for him to give another teasing lick over your clit.

“Hey,” you scoffed, “I’m not a toy.”

“Tonight, my dear, that’s exactly what you are.” Dutch crooned, kissing your head while he gently fucked you. His lips lowered to your ear. “You like it though; I know you do.” You grumbled in reluctant agreement and Dutch chuckled, his hand stroking your jaw to look up at him, where his thumb placed over your lips. “I think I’ll fuck your mouth, now.”

Blinking at him, you nodded and he kissed you gently, sitting up and making you sit up too. Arthur moved back on his knees, watching while he licked his lips. “Whatchu got in mind?”

“Our girl is going to get on her hands and knees,” Dutch said lowly, brushing his lips down your neck, his moustache tickling your skin. “She’s going to let you stretch her pussy,” he bit down gently on your shoulder, “and she’s going to wrap her pretty mouth around my cock. Aren’t you?”

You could only nod, Dutch’s voice going straight to your core and you wanted to please him, give him the same treatment you’d given Arthur.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Yes, Dutch.”

“What are you going to let us do?”

“I - I’m going to let you use me.”

“Good.” He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you round to face him and you knelt between his legs, for him to move up into a tall-kneeled position. Palms grasped your ankles and began to pull, so you shifted forward and used your hands to remain steady while Arthur placed you in the ideal position for him to fuck you.

“You look good like this, girl,” Arthur praised, and you looked back at him with lust painted all over your face. He kept the eye contact, finally unbuttoning his pants and making a show of pulling them down and kicking them away, his erect cock stood proud and patient. His eyes glided to your dripping cunt presented to him, and he couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps for your viewing pleasure in return. You moved your hips back to encourage him and he half-smiled, brushing his palms up your thighs to land on your hips.

Dutch brought a hand into your scalp, righting your position to level your face with his cock. “Open,” he commanded, and you did so willingly.

His cock circled your lips and you brought your tongue out, licking up his head and sampling yourself yet again. He tasted wonderful, musky like Arthur and your mouth watered at the thought. When you brought your head forward to close your mouth around him, his grip remained firm and you blinked up at him where he shook his head.

He didn’t need to explain with words, instead just brought his hips forwards, sliding into your wet mouth to test how deep he could go. He went halfway in, then moved back out, then in again. You hollowed your cheeks and he moaned lowly, head tipping up slightly but eyes not leaving the sight of you.

When Arthur pressed the tip of his cock to your pussy, your whine was muffled around Dutch and he grit his teeth at the vibration, while Arthur pushed into where Dutch had filled you moments previous.

Arthur’s sigh of ecstasy sounded almost pained, and his fingertips dug into your hips as your walls fluttered around the new cock penetrating you. Dutch took turns watching Arthur fuck into you and watching you suck on his cock, turning half-delirious at all the visual stimulation. He started to think you might be his favourite asset of the gang, what with all your... assets.

You brought a hand up to Dutch’s hip, stabilising yourself as his rough fucking of your face continued and you let your jaw go slack. Arthur angled his hips to go deeper and began pounding you, lewd slaps of his flesh filling the room. He lay a palm on your back as his other gripped your ass, moving you towards him slightly every time he thrust in.

“You were right, Dutch,” he mused absentmindedly, “she feels fuckin’ perfect. Darlin’,” he breathed and you hummed despite your full mouth, “I could fuck you all day. So good, so fuckin’ -” Arthur huffed, tensing his jaw and becoming more addicted to you with each snap of his hips.

Dutch let go of your head, the powerful thrusts from Arthur being more than enough movement as each one nudged his cock to the back of your throat. Spit spilt out the sides of your mouth, salty precum coating your tongue and the back of your throat. You slipped a hand in between Dutch’s legs to massage his heavy balls and Dutch hissed at the sensation, muttering “keep going” when you paused to check it was a good reaction.

The head of Arthur’s cock brushed against the sensitive spot embedded in your walls when he rolled his hips and high-pitched moans sounded on repeat from your throat. “That’s it,” Arthur half-whispered, “come on my cock, wanna feel you – you -”

Your back arched, the walls of your cunt repeatedly pulsating around Arthur’s thick length as you did just as he asked.

“We still gonna...” Arthur mumbled, thrusts now deep and slow, though you were already way past the point of over-stimulation as you drifted down from your high.

“Y-yeah,” Dutch slid his cock from your mouth, wiping the thick trail of spit that connected the two of you together from your lips. He gripped his hand around your neck and lifted your front up so your back pressed against Arthur’s muscular chest and abdomen, and you gasped at the alteration of position. Dutch pressed his torso into yours and stuck his tongue into your mouth, holding you in position while you grasped at his sides.

He kissed you deep and passionately while Arthur kissed and nibbled on your neck, eventually using all his might to still his thrusts. Dutch relented too, panting and pressing his forehead against yours. “You think you can take us both now, sweet girl?”

You nodded immediately, hoping to reach your peak for a third time and focused on Arthur’s calloused hands as they brushed up and down your flank. You wrapped your arms around Dutch’s neck, feeling as though you might fall if you didn’t use him for support.

“Make me proud, darlin’,” he cooed, giving you a final kiss and nodding at Arthur to switch positions. Dutch held you up as Arthur slid out, moving around to sit beside Dutch and hold you against him while Dutch moved to kneel behind you.

“You want it, pretty girl? Want both of us to fuck you at the same time?” Arthur asked as you moved to straddle him, his cock leaking and desperate for more as it lay flat on his stomach.

You brought a hand up to caress his stubble, and he looked almost sweet with his red cheeks and those shining blue eyes looking up at you like you were some sort of angel. To him, you were, glowing from the sheen of sweat covering your body as you sat above him, entirely lost on chasing your pleasure as you smiled down at him. “Don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much in my life,” you huffed dreamily.

“That’s our girl,” Dutch said, giving your ass a smack and kissing your shoulder, Arthur biting down on his lip as he continued to stare at your body. “Think you can wait a little longer, Arthur?”

“Sure,” he nodded reluctantly, understanding it may not be the best idea for Dutch to enter you while he was already sheathed. That didn’t mean he couldn’t touch you, though, and ushered you forward a little so your breast was in grabbing distance for him to occupy himself with.

Dutch pressed more of the cool substance onto your hole, coating his cock with it and then testing your readiness with a couple of his fingers. You sighed, leaning back onto them and he and Arthur smirked at each other.

“Easy, girl,” Arthur cooed, not unlike the way he spoke to his mare though you didn’t give that thought any attention, “you’ll get yours.”

Dutch’s palm came onto your back to urge you down so you were leant entirely over Arthur. He rubbed your ass that now sported a red splotch thanks to him, and pressed a kiss to your lower back. He nodded at Arthur without your knowledge, who proceeded to pull you closer by way of distraction. He trailed his fingertips up your sides, around your front and into your hair, pushing it away from your face and then leaning up to kiss you, gently pulling you down as he lowered his head to the bed.

Arthur nipped playfully at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open and diving his tongue in to experience you once more. He hadn’t expected the kissing to be one of his favourite parts of this. Holding a hand to the back of your head, you didn’t have much choice but to keep it going but gasped when Dutch pressed the head of his cock to your ass.

“Easy,” Arthur repeated, his lips only a centimetre from yours and began kissing you again while Dutch paused.

“Be good for me, darlin’,” Dutch purred, pressing his cock forward again experimentally. “I know you can take it.”

You calmed your breathing, not realising it’d sped up and when Dutch breached you with the end of his thick cock you moaned loudly, screwing your eyes closed at the stretch.

“Want me to -”

“No,” you grouched, “god no. Keep going.”

Dutch chuckled, pushing in further while Arthur lavished your neck with wet pecks and licks, keeping your head held still and caressing your chest with his other hand. He pinched your nipple at the same time Dutch edged further in once again, the stretch coming a little easier now. You groaned through gritted teeth, shifting your hips back to take the rest of him, not stopping until your ass met his hips.

With a hand squeezing each ass cheek, Dutch’s chest vibrated with a growl. “God damn.”

“We knew you could do it,” Arthur said absentmindedly, still focused on using his lips to taste every inch of your skin.

It was an unusual sensation to say the least, you knew you’d be sore in the morning but there was something tantalising about being filled this way, and Dutch’s reaction made it all the more worthwhile. He shifted himself out a little and offered you a short thrust, digging his fingertips into your skin at the moan that left you. With his and Arthur’s hands holding you down, you attempted to shift your hips, urging him in to let him know that it was okay. He did another small thrust and you huffed hoarsely. “More.”

Dutch paused, letting out a tense breath. “What have I told you about telling me what to do?”

You whined pitifully, desperate to come again and knowing that despite appearances Dutch didn’t want to risk hurting you. But you knew it was okay, and you knew you wanted more. “I don’t care,” you breathed. “More. Please.”

With a pleased hum, Dutch trailed his palm up your spine and back down to your lower back to hold you down. “Fuck her, Arthur.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, already starved of you and ceased his affections on your neck, grasping his cock and lining up with your entrance. Before he could thrust up, the pressure from Dutch’s hand increased and he pushed you until Arthur was completely inside you, your knees widening to accommodate the distance and gasping at the feel of his cock sliding in.

You couldn’t describe it. It was like all the air had been pushed from your lungs, feeling almost too full with both of their hard cocks nestled comfortably in you. It felt so dirty to be used like this by a pair of outlaws, but that only made the whole thing more enjoyable.

Arthur’s palms came to either side of your rib cage, unsure who was supporting who and took a deep breath while watching the ecstasy grow on your face. He ground his hips into you and your walls clenched, Dutch nestling his hips against your ass. Neither man seemed to want to be the first to thrust, so you rose forward slightly and sank back, whimpering as the two cocks filled you once more.

“N-No,” Arthur stuttered, gently brushing his hands over your skin, "you keep yourself still". He began to slowly thrust into you, Dutch obliging your needs all the same and it was like the repeated flicking of a switch as both your holes demanded your focus. But you couldn’t, the sensations began to merge as they picked up a rhythm, one sliding in as the other slid out.

You moaned a blissful moan, hands splaying on Arthur’s chest while he stared up, infatuated with the bounce of your tits.

“You like that?” Dutch grit out, fingertips sinking further into your skin, “like being used like a common whore?”

“Mhm,” you agreed through a breath, revelling in the repeated stretch.

Dutch pushed his hips forwards hard, jolting you forward and Arthur let out a strangled groan. Both men increased their pace, Dutch grunting with each thrust and Arthur panting.

They ravished you as though it was the first and last time, fucking you more senseless than you already were until your thoughts were nothing other than a merry band of delightful sensations. Dutch’s big hand squeezing your ass cheek, Arthur’s attempt at grabbing every part of you, and of course the ruthless pounding into your body as you whined into the sweaty air.

“You’re doin’ so good, darlin’,” Arthur ran his hand lovingly up your flank and to your ass, gently squeezing the flesh there. “So fuckin’ good.”

Babbles of their names fell from your lips, becoming the only two words you could remember as they took you deep and hard, growing comfortable with taking the risk. At this point, you didn’t care too much if it did hurt; the pleasure far outweighing the pain.

Dutch fisted a hand into your hair, dragging your torso up and you squeaked a little as he pulled your head back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t lose yourself yet, darlin’,” he warned and you tried to nod but his hold on you was too solid. Instead, you blinked at him and he understood your response well enough.

“Dutch,” you whispered, eyes falling shut as both of them fucked you at the change in angle, the brush of the heads of their cocks over your walls the only thing you could focus on.

“You’re our girl now,” he affirmed and you dropped your fucked-out gaze to Arthur’s. “All ours to fuck.”

“Yes,” you whined, debating alleviating yourself of all other responsibilities to be at the service of these two outlaws. “All yours.”

“Jesus,” Arthur hissed, gripping your thighs as he bucked up and dropped his head back onto the bed.

Dutch curled his hand around your throat, cold rings nudging your windpipe and restricting your airflow. Feeling deliciously floaty you hummed, fluttering your eyes shut while Dutch pulled you into his sweaty chest and held you there in the perfect position, their cocks angling in such a way that made you content to stay like this forever. Or at least until you blacked out from the choking, you weren’t choosy.

Arthur tested your stimulation with a brush of his fingers, revelling in how you seemed to pull away and push closer at the same time, not really sure what you wanted at this point. He circled you expertly and you relaxed some more, pleasure pulsing from three different places with Dutch gathering your wrists behind your back and holding you there. Your shoulders drew back, the only movement you could manage thanks to the stubborn grip he had on your neck, tremors journeying up your toes and fingers.

Dutch briefly relieved your neck and brought his hand to rest on your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” he breathed in your ear with a crack in his voice while he pushed down slightly. “Surprised we’ve not split you in two.”

With a dark chuckle, Arthur latched his fingernails onto your thighs while he bit down on his tongue, savouring every inch of you with the hopes of reliving the experience time and time again in the comfort of his tent.

“You’re taking us so well,” he praised, punctuating his sentence with a groan. “Wanna... fill you right to the brim with me.”

You nodded weakly, unable to move again when Dutch resumed his grip on your neck, but it was enough of an agreement for them and they doubled down their efforts, drilling into you like their lives depended on it.

“Don’t stop,” you sobbed, eyes screwed tight and watering.

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to, darlin’.” Arthur huffed, face hardening with a deep thrust as a bead of sweat meandered down his temple.

Both cocks drove into you at the same time, flipping between almost-empty and too-full until you no longer felt like you had any control over your body. The squeeze somehow felt tighter and you pulsed, both of them groaning at your responsiveness while you whimpered pathetically.

“Please, please,” you begged, wondering if perhaps you couldn’t come one more time for them but neither man planned on stopping until you did, proving you entirely wrong when Arthur pinched your clit and his cock pressed directly onto the soft spot in your walls while Dutch’s cock made your ass it’s new favourite place.

“So good for us,” he murmured on your hair. “Such a spirited thing, thinking you have... any,” he groaned as he searched through his aroused mind for words, “any control over us. We practically own you now, darlin’. Ain’t n-no way you’re getting away with being a brat again.”

“’S almost cute,” Arthur chuckled through his laboured breaths.

“Does,” you struggled to swallow against Dutch’s palm, “does it mean you’ll do it... again? I-If I defy you?”

“Defy me or not,” Dutch purred, “there’s no way I could go a day without fuckin’ you like this.”

He sucked your neck as they both stretched and pushed into you, arousal thrumming through your veins at being nothing short of a vessel for them. The knowledge of what your body did to them was wonderful. Filthy, but wonderful.

“S-Shouldn’t have let two men have you like this, s-sweetheart,” Arthur muttered, “you’ll never get rid of us.”

Dutch hummed his agreement and you felt like you would explode, passion and want filling you to the brim along with their cocks and you whined, high-pitched and desperate as your legs began to shake, the urge to relieve yourself coming on strong. “Give it to me, please. Please, please, please...”

That was as much as Arthur could handle, you begging and shaking and restrained awoke something within him and he pushed in as far as he could. His warmth filling your insides as his cock throbbed was the final straw and you gushed all over him, more than you’d ever seen come from yourself as it squirted from you and onto his hand.

“Fuck,” Arthur gawked at the sight of your mess, prompting Dutch to let go of your neck and you took in a deep breath when his hand joined Arthur’s to coat his fingers in your release.

“Holy shit,” he groaned and buried himself to the hilt, satisfied to finally make his claim on your body, thick ropes of his cum filling your ass.

You dropped forward, unable to co-ordinate yourself and Arthur caught you, gently pulling you into his chest and you honed in on the rise and fall of it, his breaths skimming over the top of your head. Dutch leaned a hand on your back, an attempt at soothing you but ending up using you to keep himself upright.

“She okay?” he forced out the words to Arthur, squeezing his eyes shut as he emptied the last of his load into you.

Arthur craned his neck and you blinked up to him with a small nod. “Feel like I’m floating.”

The three of you remained still, bodies vibrating with energy in unison and heartbeats slowing along with your breathing. Time didn’t feel real, the walls of reality blurry and unimportant while your body came down from being so thoroughly used. You were aware when Dutch pulled out, his cum trickling from you while Arthur kissed the crown of your head, keeping you held against his strong chest.

You shifted slightly, realising Arthur was manoeuvring you to nestle into his side as he unsheathed himself when Dutch’s hand pried open your leg and you blinked down as he wiped a cloth over you, not before admiring the cum dripping out of your debauched holes. He cleaned you up the best he could and you sighed contently into Arthur as he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly.

Dutch dropped onto your other side, out of breath and the three of you blinked up at the ceiling for some time while you returned to your bodies.

The thrumming in your veins dropped to a low hum that you suspected would stay there for a while, and with you still angled towards Arthur, Dutch lazily draped an arm over your midsection and curled protectively around you.

No words were needed, three bodies in perfect harmony and understanding while you comfortably drifted into a well-deserved rest. Dutch and Arthur glanced at each other when your body grew heavy, a silent agreement that they would protect you with their lives at all costs. And that they were absolutely, without a doubt, doing that again sometime.

#would you believe only 10% of this is backstory #i got carried away but who wouldnt #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #arthur morgan x dutch van der linde x reader #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #request #writing #my stuff

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lemon2099 · 1 year

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Do you think he’ll open up to love ?(after the canon event with his daughter)😢 what kind of lover do you think he’ll be post trauma?

I think he will. Down beneath the cold front, I see a guilt ridden man who will never be forgiven for the billions of people he killed. He makes the selfish choice to try to chase his own happiness, only to have it almost instantly ripped from his hands, and cause mass destruction in the process. If he loves again, he'll cause another tragedy, and hurt himself again.

At least, that's what he believes.

All of these "what if"s are made up. His previous experiences cause him to believe that loving will cause loss. Based on the line in the theatrical release: "I found a world where I had a family, where I was happy, at least a version of me was" This implies that he never really had a family to begin with, and this is especially true if we're taking he comic book lore is canon (as in the Miguel 90s coming run), where he didn't have a good home life at all. Safe to say, the Gabriella incident didn't help that at all.

Because he caused so much harm, he will do anything in his power to make sure it happens again, even if it causes himself immense emotional grief. As a result, he creates the Spider Society, an organization of spider people dedicated to the safety and security of the multiverse. an immense burden. now he's surrounded by people who respect him and fear him as a leader, and that leads to a feeling of isolation. He is the leader, he protects and leads, he does not bond. That leads him to forget that the team to care about him. At least 100 spider people (I'm too lazy to count) have worked under his wing for at least a few years now. At least a few of them respect him and his goals, or at least the facilities he gave them.

Whether he's willing to acknowledge it or not, he's surrounded by love, and that's not even getting into his inner circle (Peter B, Jessica Drew, LYLA, Lego Spiderman), who I know love him, as much as he would like to deny it.

I believe everyone can heal from their wounds, and he is no exception. Countless people have bounced back from loss and learned to love again. Will they ever be the same again? No. That doesn't mean they'll never love again. The human spirit yearns for love and connection, it's how we have been able to survive for millennia. His heart needs to learn that love doesn't always mean hurt, and that he deserves love, regardless of the mistakes he made.

#please ask me any questions about this and I'll happily clarify #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #astv #spiderverse #gabriella o’hara #jessica drew #lego spiderman #ben reilly #thoughts lol

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wetthandss · 11 months

Text

The Creature that Opened the Door

(parody creepypasta)

It is a dark night on October the 31th, 2023. The darkness that fell across the land on this night was no ordinary darkness. This was a darkness that was all-encompassing, with the ability to absorb all light that dares stray within it, where the tall, looming street lamps watching over the lifeless street, streaked with roadkill and dried blood, would flicker as if shivering from the cold, cold absence. The cowardly moon was non-existent, hiding from the horror that would be inflicted onto our unexpecting world. Never before in human history was there a night akin to this one. This was an event, an event for the darkest terror that will show its bare body to humanity to prove that fear is more real than we thought. It was a darkness that now makes the very lights in my room flicker, as I sit here and type in an adrenaline-fueled craze to you, creepypastaforums.net, in what could very well be my last moments, as one of these nameless terrors has come for me.

Before I can even speak of the unknowable grotesquerie intruding so rudely upon my typically safe and comfortable existence, I must tell you the full story that has lead up to this point, of I, in my Pikachu™ pyjamas, a character from the Pokémon franchise by Game Freak Incorporated and Nintendo Company, Limited, cowering on my grey bed sheets surrounded by a fortress of grey pillows and tented within my grey blanket, typing frantically on my HP Laptop 15-dy2xxx. The panic in my heart is so great that I’m afraid that the fear contained within the electrical currents of my fingers as I slam them onto the beige metallic keys will pass deep into the system, such that I may overload the 11th Gen Intel(R) Core(TM) i5-1135G7 @ 2.40GHz, 2401 Mhz, 4 Core(s), 8 Logical Processor(s), and cut my desperate and urgent message to the people of this forum short. It is my greatest hope that this does not occur before I can retrieve your aid, so I will write with the utmost brevity and in the most economical nature I can muster.

You may wonder why this is my first route of attaining help, so I give you this; I come to you only because I truly believe that you, the internet creepypasta community, will believe my story. You, who are accustomed to reading fictional stories like this on a daily basis, I assure you this is no fiction. What you are reading is very very non-fiction, and the current events that will transpire in the rest of this post are in fact happening to me at this very moment. If you are reading this… Please continue reading to the very end. I request your help immediately with these very pressing matters, threatening my very life with death; or worse. However, to truly help me with my dire plight, the context of the day must be established.

This morning was a morning like any other. At eight o’clock ante meridiem, central standard time, I awoke from a pleasant dream. In that morning’s episode of wistful sleep-fantasy, I was farming oversized pieces of candy corn in a wide, flat and halloween-coloured field. Upon waking, I reflected on what this could mean, as I am a believer that dreams are the transporters of messages from our subconscious to our conscious selves (Criticise me in the comments all you want, I do not care and will block with impunity). I believe that I had this dream due to my affinity for the Halloween season, which with today being the day of October 31st, has reached its climax after much anticipation. Ever since I was but a wee babe toddling in the streets, I have loved the holiday known as Halloween. Being not just socially allowed but encouraged to dress in a thin plastic mockery of my favourite fictional characters such as Batman™ from DC Comics, Incorporated and Bumblebee™ from the Transformers™ franchise owned by Hasbro, Incorporated. Now, at the age of eight, my interest in Halloween has not dampened. I consider it my favourite holiday, and over the years the joy of the season has only increased exponentially..

After waking up from the dream, a slow process that took around 20.2 minutes before I was able to rip my lethargic body off from the grey bed sheets, wearing my signature Pikachu™ pyjamas of course. I drank the goblet of water waiting for me at my bedside desk and stood up. I took in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells around me. My black glass desk was exactly where I left it last night, against the wall and at the corner of my bed, where I set my various items that I make use of while lying in bed at night, such as my water goblet, my books, and this very laptop that I write this urgent message to you on. I do a lot of my professional work at this desk, and it has served me very well over the years. My tall cupboards were set against the far wall, containing my favourite paraphernalia from various children’s toy franchises and video game memorabilia. The most notable of these assorted models was my LEGO™ collection, which I am quite proud of. It contains many models of my own making, such as a giant clam with an engine on its shell or my masterpiece, a cool aeroplane flame decal on its sides.

A second, larger desk sits across my bed, set against the wall opposite my bed. Taking up the entire surface of the desk at its top is a glass terrarium, the comfortable warm home of my beloved pet lizard, Bad Omen, who needed his terrarium’s light turned on each and every morning. I glided deftly to the terrarium, and reached behind to flip the small lightswitch that activates his heat lamps, which brings beautiful light and warmth to his utopian little world. As I leaned forward, I noticed something very wrong with Bad Omen. While usually he would be lying there, poking his head out from the small rock-like dome he enjoys slumbering within, his angry eyes closed shut until his very own personal sunrise, now he was lying with his entire body out of his rock-like dome, and lying on his back rather than his belly. His eyes were wide open and hyperrealistic, which is actually considerably normal considering he is in fact a real lizard, and for the rest of the circumstances surrounding the orientation of this poor lizard, and for whom I must repeat again his name is Bad Omen, and whose eyes were bleeding profusely, having already filled a few millimetres of the tank. The blood continued to pour out, I thought it must have been going on for hours before my waking. I screamed and pulled away from the tank, beginning to wail for my loss.

My dear mummy heard my cries, and swiftly rushed into my room to check up on me and investigate why I was screaming. The first thing she saw as she came into the room was my wide open mouth, my uvula undulating with the force of my screams, big stupid infant tears streaming down my face from my wavering and watery pathetic eyes, bloodshot from the raw emotion pouring through them. The second thing my mother saw was that which my nimble index finger was pointing towards across the room, to Bad Omen’s terrarium, where he lay dead in a pool of crimson. She, too, could not help but scream at the sight, but her senses caught up with her and she ran from my room to get her forklift. She drove down the hallway and into my room, and used it to lift the terrarium up and transport it from my room. As the sight of my dead pet left me, I stopped crying, and as my mother came back to my room she held me, comforted me and let me breastfeed from her teat. I quickly calmed down, and wiped the remaining fat tears from my eyes with the yellow sleeve of my Pikachu™ pyjamas. My mother patted me on the head and promised me an excellent breakfast, which she had just finished and laid out on the dining room table.

I followed my mother out for breakfast. She was not lying, my mother had indeed constructed a magnificent feast, which was laid out expertly on the table. The blue and white floral tablecloth was spread out smoothly, the gorgeous background for a banquet of Honey Smacks™ cereal (property of Kellanova) and a tall goblet of orange juice. I sat at my end of the table, and waited for my mother to seat herself at the other end. For five minutes I waited, drooling from my eager and hungry mouth as she walked to the other, very far end of the dining table. The thought of my freshly deceased pet left my mind as the chemical smell of the cereal wafted into my nose, my olfactory senses overloaded with the smell of 40.4 grams of sugar. My mother sat down across from me, shooting off her flare to signal me to begin eating. The next 4 minutes were spent consuming the cereal and juice, which I enjoyed immensely. This was my standard Monday breakfast. I also did not have school today, nor would I have school until Wednesday, which is tomorrow days away at the time that I am writing this dire warning to you, but I am afraid that I may not survive to the next day, as the beast, whatever it may be, whatever combination of horrors the universe has in its utter cruelty hath given to me, is at my door. It is however of the utmost importance that I continue to tell you the sequence of events that lead to the present moment, so that you may aid me, or, if the worst comes to pass, not make the same mistakes as me.

After I had finished breakfast, my mother walked back to my end of the table and wiped my chin, specked with milk and orange juice, with a tissue. She shot the tissue into the trash can as if she were a professional basketball player throwing a professional basketball into a professional basketball hoop. This amused me, I found it humorous to treat a waste object such as a used tissue as if it were a sports ball. I giggled joyously, and my mother reciprocated the emotion, giggling to herself. It was a grand sight to see her smiling. These days, in the cold autumn in my hometown of somewhere in the northeastern United States, the clouds grey the skies for weeks at a time, the sun taking a vacation from its work upon the world and leaving many of us to fall into a spiral of grey-triggered depression and melancholy. This affected my mother annually, who had enough on her plate. She had a very busy day job as a waitress in a local cafe, and as a drive-thru manager in a local McDonald’s™ franchise, and as a delivery driver for Amazon™, and as a barista in a local coffee shop, and as a baker in a local bakery, and as a preschool teacher in the local preschool. Her mood had, I admit, rubbed off on me as well, but now that the long weekend was sinking in I was made happy, despite the fright and grief of the morning.

This would soon change to the worst once again as the day would progress. Despite not having to attend school that day, I still had a mountainous pile of homework to do, arranged in a stack of paper. Dozens of sheets of coloured construction paper waiting for me to stain them with foul-smelling markers, listing my favourite foods, people, and testing my knowledge of some basic verbs of the English language, which I am quickly becoming highly proficient in. This stack of papers assigned to me was based at the floor, and was constructed upwards so far that it towered over my head. I was not intimidated. Gracefully I reached up, my feet erecting themselves onto their tippy-toes, and took with great precision a single sheet of orange paper from the very top. As I turned the paper over, to my horror, there were no fun educational instructions on its face, but a charcoal drawing of some horrid obscure creature resembling a dog with eyes lined down its neck. Disgusted and frustrated I crumpled the paper in my fists, deducing that my homework must have been sabotaged by a fellow classmate or perhaps my mother trying to play one of her classic “Halloween tricks”.

As I stole another sheet of thick, sharp paper, green this time, from the peak of the sensitive mountain, an avalanche was compelled by gravity and the slight force of my pull to collapse onto me. I toppled to the ground in shock. As the papers flew about me and floated to the floor, I saw that there was that very same shadowy canine monster pressed upon each and every paper, my homework was no longer. I was severely perturbed. I gathered up the papers and threw them into the dark, rank pit of the trash bin. Good riddance to these abominable things. I set out to interrogate my mother about these papers, but she granted me no answers, insisting that I had vandalised my own homework. I took her to the trash bin to demonstrate that the homework had been replaced by the black scrawls, but I was utterly flabbergasted when I discovered that the papers, all but none, had disappeared. My mother chastised me for distracting her as she was just heading out of the house to work, and I felt a hot wash of shame flow through my body as I considered her words. Was I losing my mind? Had it all been a hallucination, inspired by the tragedy of my poor sweet pet Bad Omen’s death in the night? I shoved the thoughts from my head, and instead reflected on a newfound triumph. There is no homework, so I am free to do whatever I please for the rest of the day!

I decided I wanted to play some video games on my Apple iPad™. My favourite video games at this time are Minecraft Pocket Edition™, Roblox™, and Skibidi Toilet Attackers (Season 15), a classic from the old internet. I ran gleefully to my room and slammed my door behind me, and threw myself onto the large blue bean bag resting limp in the corner of my room. My iPad™ is left beside it, for my own convenience. I pick it up and turn it on, then I navigate, using my fingers on the smooth touch-screen display, to find the Minecraft™ application. Upon finding the desired application, I pressed my finger to its icon, a signal to the domesticated machine in my hands that there is something that I want, that it can and will provide me. It understands, and obeys like a whipped horse. Minecraft™ opens to its title screen. Nothing was amiss so far, however, you will soon see where things went so tremendously awry. I pressed the “single player” button, and found my existing Minecraft™ world.

You see, in Minecraft, players explore a blocky, procedurally generated, three-dimensional world with virtually infinite terrain. Players can discover and extract raw materials, craft tools and items, and build structures, earthworks, and machines. Depending on their chosen game mode, players can fight hostile mobs, as well as cooperate with or compete against other players in the same world. Game modes include a survival mode (in which players must acquire resources to build in the world and maintain health) and a creative mode (in which players have unlimited resources and access to flight). The game's large community also offers a wide variety of user-generated content, such as modifications, servers, skins, texture packs, and custom maps, which add new game mechanics and possibilities.

I was not playing with any of these modifications, but my own personal world, which I have been constructing for two years now. Upon entering my world, I appear in the game-world exactly where I had left off last time, as expected. I had just finished harvesting my crops, a 9x9 plot of wheat with the block in the centre replaced with water to keep the plants growing quickly. The wheat was in my inventory, a space that contains all the items that I pick up during the course of the game, but there was something… Off about it. My eagle-like eyes picked up on the subtle difference in the pixel art sprite of the “wheat” item. I wondered to myself if this was an update, or small patch that had been made to the game while I was gone. I brought the screen closer to my inquisitive eyes and peered at the wheat sprite. There was indeed something different. It was animated, with a swarm of small dark pixels that resembled bugs seeming to crawl all over the bundle of wheat. I was confused, but thought that perhaps this was part of some Halloween update, as the Minecraft™ developers have been known to do in the past, which may add some unexpected and creepy features and minor changes to the game to fit the theme of the Halloween season.

At this, I was excited. However, when I attempted to craft my wheat into bread, by placing three wheat in a horizontal row on the 3x3 crafting grid on the crafting table, the bread came out looking mouldy and gross much like the other Minecraft™ item known as a poisonous potato. This I also assumed was part of the update, but as I brought the bread into my inventory I saw the name of the item, dread filled my heart. It was not named “bread”. It was named “Narrator, you have been CURSED”. I screamed and threw my iPad™ across the room. How did the game know my name was Narrator? Nowhere did I feed the machine this information, even the parental controls on the device do not reference mine or my mother’s real name anywhere. The traitorous device shattered into 1 million pieces upon colliding with my metal bed frame. I was not distressed by its violent demise. No longer did I ever want to look at the thing. I left the sharp metal and glass shards dispersed on the multi coloured shag carpet. I had no spoons left for the terrifying happenings and goings on of the day. I simply required a short rest. I decided to take a nap in my bed.

I hastily climbed right into it, and pulled myself under my thick grey blankets. I realised now that I was still wearing my pyjamas from last night. They were a comfort object for me, as I have had them for a long time, since I was but a babe, an infant as it were. When I was a red squirming infant, my mother bestowed upon me these pyjamas, but due to an ordering mixup they were far too large for my infantile size, so I eagerly awaited my entire youth to grow taller, wider, fatter, so that I could one day fit within the yellow frame of the itchy fabric. On my eighth birthday, just last year, I was able to fit the pyjamas on. It was the happiest day of my life. I will someday outgrow it, the wrists will some day get tighter, the hood will pull shorter, but for now, I was in a blissful realm of cosplay completion that I could enjoy for two years more or so. I drifted off to sleep, and began a dream taking place in the Pokémon world, with myself placed in the role of the Pokémon trainer.

I was in the hometown of the main character of the franchise, Ash Ketchum, in the small settlement of Palette town in the Kanto region (Of the Pokémon world, not real world Japan). My mother had just slimily kissed me on the forehead and sent me on my way to Professor Oak’s house to acquire and battle Pokémon creatures, and begin my long, adventurous Pokémon journey, where I would travel the land and collect gym badges from skilled Pokémon trainers. Upon arriving at Professor Oak’s house and laboratory, just across the street, I saw that the windows were blackened. I peeked inside. What I saw changed the nice, lighthearted dream into a cruel nightmare. Professor Oak had one of these Pokémon creatures, resembling an orange salamander with a flame-tipped tail, named Charmander, on a surgeon’s table, an audience of note-taking laboratory assistants surrounding him on bleachers. The lights in the room were off, save just a few bright white pointed spotlights beaming down on the Professor and the vivisected Pokémon. The Charmander looks towards the door as I peek in, and whispers, exasperated; “Char…” (as Pokémon are known to make vocalisations that sound similar to their names, and it is an open question in the Pokémon universe whether the Pokémon are named after their vocalisations or if it is the other way around. On one hand, it would be quite the strange implication if the Pokémon, especially wild ones, were privy to the names that humans give them, and conformed to speaking that name repetitively, even communicating with each other using that name. On the other hand, the existence of Pokémon such as Mr. Mime, who speaks his own name “Mr. Mime”, is even weirder to some, as well as many Pokémon names being a sort of pun or portmanteau representing the theming of a particular Pokémon).

Professor Oak looks up at me and pulls his surgical mask down, and the smile on his face was indescribable. It was wide enough to reach the ears, and tall enough to make his nose non-existent. Half of his entire face was taken by the grin. He had no teeth, but disgusting gross revolting nasty yucky icky gross gums, and a short stubby blunt pink gross narsty tongue. His maw was a black hole, whatever entered, even light was lost, annihilated. He brought up the Charmander from the table and, pleading and squirming, it was thrown into his mouth, where it disappeared entirely. He pointed at me and laughed a ghastly (no relation to the Pokémon™) laugh, unlike anything I have heard before. It reminded me immediately of the iconic Kefka laugh from Final Fantasy 6™ and infamous for its use in the Sonic.EXE creepypasta. The indescribable horrible laugh sounded something like “woopwoopwoopwoop”. I snope awake from the nightmare.

My Pikachu™ pyjamas were drenched with sweat, filled to the brim, making me resemble an inflated version of this Pokémon™. As I let my full-frontal zipper down, the sweat flowed out like a waterfall, soaking my bed with the foul yellow fluid. I ran out of my room, a grave mistake in my compromised clothing situation. My mother had brought my friend Aiden from school to our house. I completely forgot we had a playdate today, and there I was, naked down to my underwear, Pikachu™ pyjamas wrapped around my ankles, soaked in sweat, shocked eyes of a prey animal caught by a predator. My hair instantly turned white from fear. Aiden and my mother stared at me for a moment too long for my heart to bear, and then began pointing and laughed at me, just like Professor Oak in the nightmare. My mind broke, I defecated in my pants and ran back down the hallway. It seemed endless to me now, I felt that I could never escape the ever-increasing volume of the laughter, it became deafening in my ears. I ran back into my room and slammed the door just in time for my eardrums to avoid rupture, pushing up my sick gamer chair against the doorknob so that no one, or no thing, could come in. I ran and threw my soiled underpants into the laundry hamper.

Majestically avoiding the broken glass from the iPad™, I shot under my bed, lying flat and heaving heavy huffing breaths. The sweat that had soaked into my bed earlier dripped onto me, puddling on the floor. My entire body was wet, like I was spelunking in a flooding cave. That embarrassing mistake, which on any other day would be one that could be laughed off and forgotten, today, I felt was the end of it all. By stepping out into the kitchen I had really sealed my fate. The moment that bleak thought sank into my mind the bedframe collapsed, strained by the weight of the sweat soaked into the mattress. My mattress fell onto me, a large wet sponge crushing me under water weight. I felt that I was again an infant being born, but instead of a warm loving parent to welcome me into the world there is instead a cold, dead mattress and a wet carpeted floor covered in broken glass. I heard banging at my door, two pairs of fists; my mother and Aiden. Adrenaline pumping through my eight-year-old body, I squirmed and squeezed my way out from inside the womb of polyurethane foam and came out screaming, glass shards ripping into my skin, just like the day I was born. The knocking on my door stopped in an instant. For a moment I thought that I should perhaps unblock the door and take a small peek out into the hallway. I did not do that though. Instead, I decided to play with my LEGO™s.

I pulled the container containing my many thousands of LEGO™s out from the drawer. They were of many shapes and colours, made up of dozens of disassembled sets. I only kept a few complete at a time, which I displayed on my cupboards. The rest were doomed to be separated into disparate pieces until I built up the determination to pick through my vast collection one piece at a time and put them together very slowly. I decided to forgo preset instructions and construct an item out of my own imagination, which I believe to be grand and beautiful. I decided that I was going to construct a frog. As I began putting pieces together, I soon noticed that the entire house had been completely quiet. If my friend Aiden and my mother were home, especially if they had become scary monsters, surely there would be some noise. As soon as I thought this, as if responding to my thoughts, a large banging sound began pounding out from the kitchen. I started, my hackles raised and noxious chemical fluid began leaking from the glands in my evapatoria, coating my thoracic exoskeleton.

As I took a panicked look around my room, I noticed something horrible. My LEGO™s were scattered all across the carpet along with the broken glass. They were everywhere, a random scattered arrangement with many blending into my carpet. My room had become a minefield. Panic began to sink in. If I for some reason had to move across my room very quickly, I would not be able to get across my floor without stepping on one of these devices of podiatric torture. I breathed out a sigh of relief that nothing so urgent was presently occurring, but was forced to suck the sigh back in when the banging from the kitchen began to move. It did not move down the hallway, or into another room of the house, no, no. The banging moved underneath the house, I heard the strikes of spooky feets against the metal of the air ducts and the bending of HVAC tubes. The air register in my room began to reek a foul odour, overpowering my own. The sound was travelling through the air conditioning system coming full speed straight towards my room.

I looked at the hazardous carpet, covered in high-quality plastic caltrops. I gulped a tennis ball sized gulp and with my superior and powerful survival instincts I dashed across the carpet. My feet stung as they were pierced a thousand times over by irregularly shaped blocks, I could not prepare myself for each step. My velvety foot pads, free of calluses and hardship, were being put to the test. After 87 gruelling, sprinting steps, I made it to my door just as something burst forth from my air vent. I grabbed my sick gamer chair and, with a single tear shed for another deep loss this day, I threw it behind me. I dared not even look back at the thing as it came out of the vent. I was in the hallway, and slammed my door. Something wet and large locomoted across my floor, and I heard a high, gruesome screech from what I assume was contact with the deadly traps on my floor. I took the chance to run down the hallway, entering my bathroom. I had planned to just escape my house, but I glanced through the bathroom window and decided completely against it. Outside the window was that perfect darkness of terror that I had mentioned before, do you remember?

If you do not remember how bloodcurdling and malicious this darkness was, please go back to the beginning of this call for help for a quick refresher, then return here. I will provide a bookmark within the post (or .pdf if you are receiving a document form of this) so you can easily find this spot again, and know where to continue reading. As I do not have time to format this plea into a proper narrative style, such as including breaks between paragraphs or indents (EDIT: Yes I do but do not get me wrong I am still in immediate danger as I write this!), some readers may find it difficult to read, as it would appear as a single long block of text. This is something that I would most definitely consider if I had more time, but there is something jiggling my bedroom door-knob at this very moment about to enter my room, and the only choice I have is to very quickly write this for anyone in the creepypasta forums to aid me with this situation, either by calling the police (the parental control settings on my iPad forbid me from making phone calls, even emergency ones, and regardless it lies in a million pieces) or by giving me advice on what to do, on the small chance that this has happened to anyone else on these forums, which it couldn’t have had, because as you’ll see as you reread my first few passages in this post, something like this has never happened before. Like I said a moment ago, I will also be distributing this distress signal as a .pdf file, just in case it can reach someone outside of this forum who can help. Without further ado, please refresh yourself with the nature of this night (horror, grisly, generally bad) and return here when you are done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for refreshing yourself with the context of the darkness outside. Now you can definitely see why I decided not to escape through my bathroom window because of that [adjective] darkness. I must hunker down within the confines of my bathroom, the shield of the bathtub which could deflect even the most tempestuous tornado would surely keep me safe against the hideosity which had recovered from its painful folly and was now chasing down the hallway. I could hear as it slid against the walls, what I could only assume were the falling of wet feet or the sloughing of moist flesh slapping against the ground as it advanced upon my position. It stopped right outside the bathroom door. I slammed the shower curtain shut, and it heard me, as when the curtain made its shrieking noise the monster began to slam against the average strength wooden bathroom door with the ferocity of a cleaner shrimp on the ectoparasites of a fish. It was only a matter of time before the door began to splinter and shatter. The bathtub was strong. The bathtub was an impregnable fortress. I was safe, and the curtain put the thing out of sight. But my mind kept racing. What was I to do now? Wait here until the sun comes up? I had nothing to keep me occupied, I would certainly die of boredom. I knew I had to do something to get rid of the monster.

I grabbed the shower head from its handle and turned it towards the bathtub’s bottom. I turned the water on as hot as the boiler in the house could handle, and waited until it scalded my skin at the slightest touch, and the room had filled with steam. Readying the handle like an outlaw’s revolver in a wild western standoff, I put a hand on the shower curtain. The monster outside began clicking curiously and I felt its hot corpus nearing my fingers. As quickly as I could, and averting my eyes, I threw the shower curtains open and pulled up the shower head, spraying the near-boiling water onto the creature. It screamed as the noise burst my eardrums, and I heard no more after that. The room filled with so much steam that I could not see even if I did not avert my gaze, I felt that my lungs were being filled with a smooth sea. As the steam cleared, I looked, and the entity was no more. There was nothing but a heap of white viscera on the bathroom floor with the laundry. I almost yelled with victory and shut off the shower after spraying down the last few pulsating cuts of meat on the stained-red tile floor. I was truly safe now, as long as no other STRANGE BEINGS intercepted with my normal life.

In the shower I cleaned my foul clothing and my own body (not boiling hot of course). After my shower and drying I cleaned the LE™GOs from my floor and got comfy into bed, turning on my laptop to peruse the internet. I noticed that my window blinds were open, so I reached over to close them. My keen hawk-like eyes caught something outside that glinted ever so slightly in the darkness. It was a tall figure, about 6 feet tall, that is, 1.8288 metres in the metric system, or if you are a photon, 1.933057524E-16 lightyears. It stood out in my front yard, and would be completely invisible in the perfect darkness were it not for the slight lighting of the front porch, whose electric lantern was flickering. The figure had an average build, but one thing stood out from its silhouette. A completely cubic head. In a flash it ran to my window, pressing its perfectly square face against it. A sticky green ooze slapped against the window glass and dripped down it slowly. I saw now what the cube resembled, it was a forward facing sticky piston from my favourite video game, Minecraft™!

From my months of scouring the Minecraft Creepypasta Fandom Wiki, I recognised this entity immediately. I dare not even speak its name here, if you do your own research you will realise what I saw stalking me through my window. I scrum so hard and my peripheral nervous system fired off as if shot with a bullet. I fell off my bed in pain and terror. When I looked back up, the sticky piston monster was gone. Taking its place was a completely different fear, a blank white face on a tall tuxedo-wearing body. It was the Slenderman, but before I could process this change, its appearance morphed once again, it was now Jeff the Killer, now Freddy Fazbear, Lavender Town, SCP-173, the Creepy Smiler, the Grabber, Shadow the Hedgehog, and finally resting on a warped reflection of my own face.

Worms and weird fishes crawled and swam around my head, emerging from the monster’s nose, and they began to eat away at my face. Its eyes, identical to my own beautiful brown eyes, rolled back in its head, revealing an EVIL version of my eyes on the other side. It did not have a mouth, instead just a small circular hole that hot air blew out from like a leaking steam pipe, fogging up the glass so quickly it looked like it had been snowing outside. I began to smell blood, and looked down at myself. I had fallen on the broken iPad™ glass, and my Pikachu™ pyjamas and skin were cut and penetrated at various small points once again. I did not even feel the pain past the adrenaline pumping through my veins, so I shook the broken glass off and got back in bed, hiding under my covers. I heard the shapeshifter outside slide against the window, walking away, the fallen leaves crunching under its feet. I heard the front door ripped straight off of its wrought iron hinges. It was thrown across the yard I believe, as I heard a loud heavy thud against the leaves and grass in the distance. The footsteps continued into my home, I heard them echo off the kitchen walls, distant, then nearer, nearer and down the hallway and to my door.

In utter abject horror I realised the worst mistake I would make this entire night. I did not block the door with anything. I threw the blanket off of me, but it was far, far too late. It is here that I must switch to the present tense, as what happens from this point onwards is currently happening to me right now, as I have repeatedly mentioned throughout this post. The ornate gilded doorknob is beginning to slowly turn, I hear its exasperated, monstrous breath bouncing off of the wood of the door with such force, it’s as if it were exhaling a cloud of moths onto it. Please, if anyone sees this, please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please transfer 6000 robux into my roblox account at Wettest_Hands messages are open n links below shows you how 2 do it easy. I think it is the only thing that can stop this monster. K thx bye

#my #creative writing

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icouldntcareless22 · 2 years

Text

I will remember you.

Extraordinary you!Au x Zombie Apocalypse!Au

Summary: The world was damned. A deadly virus going around turning everyone in zombies? Yeah, the world was definitely damned. But that was the least of his problems right now. Time was slipping by him..he had been hearing weird sounds. He decided that he was going crazy. Until a certain someone appeared and told him not to worry because apparently this all a fiction, more specifically a comic?

AN: Hi! This is the very first piece I am writing! I am sure that it is not quite as good as the rest of the amazing works that exist here but I wanted to get the idea out of me and entertain whoever wants to read it! I will be making a part 2 for sure!

Words: 5k

Part 2

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The morning was quiet, if you don't count the inhuman grunts and moans that were surrounding them.

Felix was perched in the highest point he could reach and was just crouched there, watching the school below him. Approximately 6 months ago everything he knew changed. A virus, that was supposed to never see the light of day, was leaked and the world went to shit after that. People screaming on the streets as their flesh was being ripped from their bodies, the population filling the streets desperate to escape, concerned family members trying to find each other, destruction of human kind as we knew it..You know the usual drill..

He shook himself out of whatever daydream he had fallen into.. Now it was not the time to daydream... He scolded himself as he adjusted his position. He looked over the school that had became both their salvation and prison. It was for sure big and by now, so unkept that it truly looked haunted. Being on top of the second floor helped him have that eagle vision he needed to examinate their safe keep. He scanned over the fake little garden that was was once filled with flowers and trees were they lounged upon back in the good days, over the old road that was once filled with kids and laughter as it leaded to the main gate, over-.

A gasp left him. There was movement. In the corner of the football court, that was in the far right side, there was movement.

Swoosh!

What was that?

"Did you see something Felix?" Asked over his shoulder the dark haired boy on the other side of the roof. Usually the look out consisted of two people that made their way from the bottom of the school to the top. The small bit they managed to secure at least. The whole thing was too damn big to manage it all, they had succeed in securing quite a few rooms, that were in the left side of the building.Such as mediocre classrooms, a janitors closet that was the source of weaponry for them and the teacher's office. The rest was up for the taking for the leaches.

"I think I saw something moving by the court" he answered as he scanned again the yard for signs of life. Could I really be that wrong?

Changbin left a grunt as moved near his side of the roof. He perched on the edge as carefully scanned the court. He shook his head, messy unkept locks following the movement. Changbin looked rugged, he realized, they all did, with a T shirt a few sizes too big and green cargo pants rolled up so they can fit his height. They raided a couple of lockers and found clothes that remained there. The clothes a painful reminder that their owners would not come to pick them up.

"Are you sure? Maybe you saw a squirrel or something.. If they are still alive, I mean «he reasoned as he wiped his forehead.

"Maybe I am tired" Felix agreed, shaking his head as well. Yeah, he could be tired. The sun was glaring down at them and he was taking on more and more shifts recently. This could be a sign that he needs the rest. Maybe he could speak with Chan so he can rearrange them.

"Or maybe you are on edge." Changbin said as he hoped back on the safer ground of the roof." I mean a new face, in this environment, is not always welcomed. You can be cautious"

"I am not. I believe she deserves the benefit of the doubt. She survived a God knows what, all alone, out there. I mean if you were on her position wouldn't you want shelter and food?" He answered as be scanned the yard for the last time.

"Yeah...you could be right" Changbin mumbled.

Swoosh!

"You heard that?" Felix asked, looking around.

Changbin stilled as he listened. After a moment or two he opened his eyes and looked at Felix "No..Nothing"

He stilled as well and then let out a big breath".. let's just go mate" he mumbled and started to make his way down the stairs.

~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Swoosh!

"I am saying that she shouldn't have been here in the first place"

Felix blinked as he refocused on the conversation that was taking place in front of him. Seungmin and some other kids were taking a stand against the new girl that arrived on the campus. They were totally tearing the poor girl down, he thought. Useless, in a prime condition and had never gotten her hands dirty were some of the comments that were thrown in her face.

He approached slowly, arms raised, as if to show that he meant no harm " Guys, let's not says things we don't mean" he tried to reason with them. He knew that all was in vain as Seungmin and the girls were all furious. The girls could understand why, they never really resolved anything, always picked fights and recklessly dived into difficult situations that they couldn't get out. Seungmin, on the other hand, was a tactician. He knew that one more person , meant more hands, meant more eyes to keep them safe , so he couldn't understand what the boy had against her that he would go to such extreme lengths.

"We mean everything! She is longing around! Asking stupid questions! Not helping at all!" Squealed one of the girls, all red in the face and hands moving rapidly around her.

Seungmin, still sitting on the chair not far from him, said " Felix we can't welcome anyone and not ask questions. Besides even though the screaming doesn't help" he said throwing a dirty look to the girls" they got a point. This is kill or be killed now, I am just saying in case you forgot "

He allowed himself to fall back against the window. He put his hands deep down the pockets of the oversize pants he found. He couldn't deny what Seungmin said. He scanned the rest of the room. Changbin was sprawled in one of the comfiest teacher's chair he could find , not a care in the world could be found on his face. On the top of the desk in front of Changbin, sat Jisung. He stared at the fight that was taking without a word. He didn't really get involved in fights as he once did. The whole situation was proven too much for him, slowly his jokes and bright energy gave to a solemn face and keen eyes that saw it all. Seungmin and Minho, as well as a few other kids from the classes that managed to stay alive, were in the middle of the room. Seungmin and Minho made quite a duo. Clever and sharp-tongued they may be, but they kept them alive. Along with Chan they were the brain of the operation, as he liked to joke.

Not everyone from their classroom managed to stay alive. That resulted in fights and distress in the beginning but as the months went by we all came into an understanding, we have to work together to make this whole damn thing work. He knew some of the faces and names but not all. Faces came and went by, some familiar, some completely unrecognizable. He didn't understand what the fuss was about, it would simply be another face in the crowd.

"So what? We should close the gates and shun outsiders? We won't be better than monsters!!!" Hyunjin protested. But in return he earned only scoffs but the other boys. He grided his teeth, annoyance clear on his handsome face. With long strides he came to the side of the girl, which he strongly protected. " Besides you don't run the place. I say we vote. Let the crowd decide" he concluded, smirking arrogantly. With his long black hair framing his face, his tall frame stood over the girl protectively. Felix wanted to scoff to himself. Why don't you shoot hearts from your eyes too? He though. He didn't really know Hyunjin that well, even back to the old days they didn't really talk. But he found his whole demeanor ridiculous, especially when it was about a girl he barely knew.

"Okay, let's do that. To be fair to everyone involved" said Chan standing up. He clapped to get everyone's attention. "Tomorrow we will vote. Make up your mind until then." He turned to Seungmin and Hyunjin "Happy now?" They both nodded.

Hyunjin turned to the girl who watched the whole scene stunned and murmured something Felix didn't quite catch.

Swoosh!

He immediately looked around him, alarmed. What was that damned sound? He didn't quite have the time to figure out as he ran up to Chan.

"Hey mate!" He called you the older boy.

"Hi Felix!" Chan greeted with a big smile. Felix immediately smiled back. He quite liked Chan. He was an easy going guy, fair to all, never had he seen him pint point and be cruel to others. A perfect leader and friend. They were lucky to end up here with him." How was the watch?"

"Actually that was what I wanted to talk you about. Is there a way to get me out of watch the next 2 days or so? I have been keeping watch for 5 days now and I am begging to tire" he explained, tone annoyed and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Chan looked him concerned, he closed in on him and put his hand on his shoulder massaging him gently "Felix.. your last watch was 2 days ago."

What?

"What? No no! I was on watch this morning.." he shuttered. He was, wasn't he? He remembers it as it was this morning.

Chan didn't speak as he looked him. "Maybe you should rest either way" he concluded. "If you don't feel well or something, you can always -"

"No no.. I.. I am fine. Just tired I guess, I can do my shift if you have no one"

Jisung, much to his surprise, stepped up. Felix knew he didn't really like keeping watch as he felt paranoid so near the zombies. " I can do it, man. Go rest, you look like you need it" he lightly joked, showing his bunny teeth at him. Felix just looked at him. He looked tired as well, he looked tiny as well, outfit to big on him, a black hoodie jacket that he had thrown over his shoulders made him appear even smaller. He looked at him knowingly though, his eyes telling him that he was underestimating him and that he could see everything coming. As he looked at them, he found himself nodding. " Thanks, Sung" he said in the end.

The brunette smiled and made his way to Changbin to tell hima about the changes.

"Well I am going to sleep" Felix said as a goodbye to Chan that was still examinating him.

"Sweet Dreams Lix"

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Swoosh!

That fucking sound was making his head hurt. He tried to find where it came from, tried to ask the others if they heard it but nothing. And he wished that was where his worries ended. He was losing parts of his day. He remembered being with Jisung, Changbin and a few other survivors on the teach's office and the next thing he remembered was standing watch with Seungmin. He was worried something was wrong with him. Maybe he hit his head somewhere and he had amnesia. Surely he was way too young for Alzheimer? He shook his head as he willed himself to focus. He was keeping watch ..again.. with a random girl. He didn't know her name, he recognized just the short hair and the constant frown on her face. He turned to say to her that the shift was all good and over, when the door to the roof busted open. A panting mess of hair busted through the door and took deep breaths.

"Did you came all the way here to die? Speak girl!" demanded his partener, already annoyed with the girl that appeared.

Swoosh!

"Z-Zombies! They are trying to break t-through the main hall to our side!" She panted. They all looked each other for a beat and they all took off. Down the stairs they went, as they were running the screaming and shouting could be clearly heard. Felix reached first the scene. The doorway that connected their side of the school was being ripped apart by the constant banging of the zombies. Rotten flesh of grabbing hands and pale hazy eyes were seen through the crack. Several bodies were thrown against the door trying to hold it closed, but more and more grunts started to boom from the other side.

"It won't hold!" Minho shouted, his usual aloof attitude long gone by now. Sweat dripping down his face, eyes hoping from Chan back to the door.

" I have an idea! First of all quiet!!!! Second, can we find a broken desk? Any big flat surface will do! And nails!! Tape! Anything that can hold it up against the wall!" A determinated voice was heard across the hall.

Felix didn't immediately recognized the voice, but he rushed to find what was asked of them. The janitors closet. The first thought that came to mind. Wi th the longest stride he could master he flew up the stairs. He burst into the room and went straight to the drawer to the far right side. He placed them there himself, he quickly grabbed them, dropping a few in his haste and ran downstairs. When he touched the first floor, he saw several people dragging a broken desk to place it against the wall, some were carrying hammers, others duck tapes. He hurried through them to give Chan the screws he got.

"Chan! Here!" He panted. Chan blindly thrashed his hand out to him as he continued to shoulder the desk against the door. Felix grunted as he thrown himself into the work. With all his strength he brought the hammer down. He was too fucking weak, he thought. Now was not the time to think about working out. He grinded his teeth and he kept pounding down on the rusty nail After managing to nail the lower part of the desk he turned to see the rest of the project. With relief he saw the rest of the team slowly managed to kept it intact on the wooden door, the duck taping team took over once the grunts were no longer that instinct.

He blew out a big breath and slid down the wall. That was a crack away from certain death.

Swoosh!

He clicked his tongue, adjusted to the dreadful sound by now. " Fuck that" he murmured. Changbin and Jisung that had found their way to him agreed silently as they plummeted to the floor. A few girls were heaving next to them. Normally he would try and comfort them, but he found himself not carrying, even scoffing at them. He exchanged a look with Jisung and Changbin. They looked fine. We were all okay. He scanned the rest, except some crying, they were fine too. Another fucking day complete.

" Oi Felix! Changbin! Jisung! " The familiar voice of their leader called out to them.

"I guess the crisis is over and the chores must go on" joked the brunette boy.

"Can't we take a break first? I am hungry" he complained the bulky mess that was Changbin.

"Right? We can't catch a damn break around here" he joked, throwing his head back.

"Let's just get over it" Jisung signed, standing up.

"Yeah let's -Fuck! " He half shouted. A red long angry scratch was on his palm. The nails, he thought. He should dress that, the last thing he needed was an infection.

"Shit! You alright?" Changbin asked as he checked out his hand. He turned it over to check the angry mark that married his skin.

"Yeah some water and dressing and I will be as good as new" he concluded and made his way over to the mass of bodies that were carrying desks to further barricade themselves.

~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Swoosh!

He was standing in the teach's office once again as the voting took place. After the whole incident it was revealed that the savior, that shouted the directions and gave the ultimate solution,had been the new girl. Hyunjin's crush or whatever. He had seen them several times in the dark hallways exchanging sweet nothings and catch them staring at each other lovingly. Guess she will be staying after all.

A pencil was going around and small pieces of paper was handed out to all the participants. He was patiently waiting for his turn even though he wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't really care for her. He just wanted to go to the room he shared with Changbin and Jisung and God knows who else and lay down. He was tired as if he was always standing up and moving around. He let out a long breath. Finally the damn pencil had reached him.Sobhe grabbed it and he wrote a yes, stay and handed the pencil to the next person. Now time to wait for the box to it reach him. Just his luck. As he waited he was played with the paper on his hands, he stilled.

A sudden though cane to mind.

He looked down .His palm. He remembered it stinging painfully just yesterday afternoon. Now his hand was callused,maybe a little dirty but unwouned.

Something was wrong...

Swoosh!

He blinked.

He is not on the teacher's office.

He was on the roof, perched in his usual spot.

He almost fell over.

No. No no no no. That was not happening. He was crazy. He finally lost it. A sob was trying to tear itself out of his throat. Tears sprung to his eyes.

"Hey guys! There was a change! we will take over your shift! You will take over the night one instead! Get some rest, we got it from here" a smiling Hyunjin announced. A small girl trailing behind him, greeting them shyly.

But Felix couldn't focus on them. He couldn't focus on his breathing as well. He was slipping. Almost like on autopilot he jumped from his high spot he clapped Hyunjin on the shoulder and said with a cheery voice he didn't recognized as his own at this point. "All yours mate!" And he went towards the stairs.He didn't understand ,his body was moving against his will, against all reason . His watch out mate followed him outside and closed the door behind them

Swoosh!

As soon as the door closed that damned sound followed and suddenly he was on the floor heaving. He couldn't breathe enough, the air felt suffocating. His eyes filled with tears and everything turned hazy.

"Felix!" A feminine voice shouted and suddenly arms supported him. She cradled him in her arms, shooting him the best she could. " Felix breath. Breath with me" she instructed. He couldn't,he just couldn't follow. The air was still not enough. The panick was filling his senses like a raging river.

Hands pushed back his black hair from his face gently and two cool palms were against his cheeks, the sensation grounding. He felt a little more there in the moment with her. Her voice reached him now more clearly.

"Look at me Felix.Please." He did what was asked of him. A pair of dark orbs was before him transfixed on his own lighter ones. " Are you with me? Blink for yes"

He looked at her for a moment before blinking slowly. " Good "she affirmed. "Breath for me"She caressed him gently. He breathed slowly, he holded and released.

"What's wrong Lix?"

He didn't answered immediately. Tears came once again in his eyes.

"I am going crazy"

She looked at him for a moment before asking" Why do you think you are going crazy?"

"I have been hearing things, I am missing days. I can't even control what I do anymore." He heaved.

"Shh shhhh. You are okay. You are okay Lix. Everything is going to be okay. The next scene is coming you are going to be alright then." She repeated

He sniffled slowly and relaxed against her. Her caressing and kind words mixed with his panic attack made him sleepy. He closed his eyes as she continued to soothe him.

"You are gonna be alright. It's just the shadow. You will forget. You are going to be alright."

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Swoosh!

Scenes were flashing before him.

Him, Chan and Minho running to get supplies from the near by stores , avoiding all the walkers.

Swoosh!

More swifts with Changbin and familiar but unfamiliar faces.

Swoosh!

Jisung and him laying on the classroom talking late into the night.

Swoosh!

Lunch at the teacher's office.

Swoosh!

Here he was again. On the roof along with Chan keeping watch. He felt weird. He keeps hearing weird sounds. One minute he stands in one place and the other he finds himself in the complete opposite direction. He keeps getting confused and losing the time. He found himself crying often , worried sick Did he really had amnesia? But that didn't explained the teleporting. In the midst of crying he always remembered cool hands and soft words being whispered against his hair, but he couldn't connect them to a face and he didn't remember what was the sweet words that brought comfort to him in his panic.

" Felix you alright?" Chan asked him bringing him out of the daydream that consumed him.

" Yeah.. just thinking" he answered as he faced the yard. The moon was making it seem way more creepy. It gave it that airy abounded feeling that didn't sit quite right with him.

"The watch is over,mate. Time to go" whispered the older male ,still looking at him with worry in his eyes. " Come on let's get some sleep"

"Go ahead without me Chan. I will sit here for a little longer " he said making himself more comfortable, even swinging his leg over the edge.

"..okay. If that's what you want. Good night Felix"he said making his way to the door. He stood there for half a moment and then closed the door behind him.

Felix stayed there and tried to make it make sense. Of course he couldn't, he tried for days now but nothing was logical at this point.

He signed as he stood up. Time for sleep.

He would make it make sense tomorrow. Or never. He made his way to the second floor slowly when he heard someone... singing?

"I got this feeling on the summer day when you were gone!" Loudly enough to alert him..and a handful of zombies that were surrounding them! What the fuck!!

He hurried after the sounds, jumping the steps two at the time to reach the ground floor

"I crashed my car into the bridge, I watched, I let it burn!!"

He fled down another pair of stairs when he finally reached his destination. The ground floor. He didn't need to scan the spacious room to spot it. A figure climbing out of the ground floor window all the while still singing.

"I don't care, I love it!

I don't care!"

He stood there astonished. What drugs were they on? But he didn't have the time to marvel, the figure was running away!

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing! Stop!" He shouted-whispered, hurrying after them. By the time he climbed out of the window the figure was walking to the nearest.. window!

"I don't care!"

He ran without catching his breath. He had to catch them before they made their way through the other window. "Wait!" He shouted as neared them.

"Got you!" He said as he managed to catch them. He turned them over and wide dark orbs was the first thing he noticed.

The figure, he suddenly noticed, was shorter than him. Long brunette tresses were flowing down her back, barely concealing the large headphones that were blasting a iconic pop song. Her eyes were dark, smart and once the shock faded, the had a playful glint in them. The bright red hoodie she wore swallowed her whole and made her stand out against the night. While he looked at her, she broke out in a big bright smile as if she had not a care in the world. And suddenly he remembered his owns.

He ripped the headphones from her head and was ready to curse her out to hell and back.

"Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing! Trying to kill yourself and the whole fucking school in the process?!" He growled unable to calm his nerves and speak in a decent manner.

She just looked at him , smiling making his eyes twitch and a angry flush to appear in his freckled face. If he could he would be literally fuming in anger.

"I didn't expect someone following me" she shrugged.

"D-didn't" he was lost for words. He narrowed his eyes at her ,the cheery smile never leaving her. And then he grabbed her and started pulling her towards the window they just climbed out of. "Come on! Let's get the fuck out here!" He snapped.

"Oh come on Felix! It's not like anything is gonna happen!"

"You are delusional!"

"Felix we are in the shadow! Nothing is gonna happen! Come on let me go I have to check out something before the next scene" She giggled as she refused to be dragged to safety.

Shadow..? Scene..?

Why that rung a bell?

He stopped dragging her away and turned to her. "Shadow?" He asked

She titled her head, still smiling sweetly up at him."It's okay. Even if I tell you, you won't remember by the next scene"

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, Felix. Never mind"

"No. You said something, you will explain"

"..Do you hear things Felix? Weird sounds? Do you lose your time sometimes? Do you not know faces, even though you should know them by heart? Teleporting?" She inquired , stepping closer to him.

Eyes blown wide, mouth half open , he just stared at her.

"When you remember this conversation after a scene, Lixie. Come and find me, I will explain everything then" she said giggling

"Until then" she said her tone light " show time, Lixie"

Swoosh!

"I really like her guys.. I just don't know if I should tell them. I mean.. it's all too much for her right now. It's a new environment, new rules I don't think I should burden her like that" he exhaled, hiding his face in his hands. All the other guys listened to him and laughed silently. The saw how they looked each other, how they lingered.

"Don't worry Jinnie" Chan assured him."You won't be pressuring no one. She looks at you with stars in her eyes, mate" he laughed.

"You really think so?" Hyunjin asked hopefully.

" Yeah! Go and get her!" The leader grinned.

They all followed his example, cheering him on. And poking fun at his embarrassed state.

Swoosh!

The smile fell from his face. He jumped down from the desk he was sitting on and made his way to the door.

"Hey!Lixie!!" A voice rung behind him. He turned and saw Changbin jogging to catch up with him. He nugged him lightly with his shoulder. " What's up man? You look like .. you have been thinking a lot" he traded carefully

"Yeah you could say that.." Except his situation remaining the same for weeks and weeks now, he was sure he had something to do. Something that he must remember. "Don't fret mate. I will come around when it's all cleared up"

"You seemed a little cold towards the guys earlier"he implied

"I am not that close with all of them. Just you and Jisung" he replied evenly.

"While I am extremely flattered and I know I am irresistible" he poked fun while shutting his lashes at him "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get a certain something off your chest"

"A certain something?"

"You know.. if you are a little... jealous because things are going well with Hyunjin and his girl.. it's okay" he ranted, fumbling to form a sentence.

"Jealous? Me?" He quoted, pointing to himself. He cocked his head to the side and wondered when he had gotten lost.

"Yeah, I saw Y/N looking at you lately"

"..Y/N?"

" You know, about this tall" he explained bringing his hand to the top of his head with a grimace,that had Felix suppressing a smile "brunette, dark eyes, permanent frown? She has been watching at you for days now."

"I don't know."

Changbin stared at him weirdly. "Okay. If you want something, I am here"

"Thanks Bin" Felix signed, half hugging his and going on his merry way.

The only thing he won't be getting into is girl trouble. He would be leaving all that to Hyunjin, be though as he recalled his embarrassing state in the classroom. He strolled through the halls aimlessly. The sun was going down at this point, everything was showered in a golden hue that was creating a melancholic vibe. He enjoyed walking around, as if he was taking a stroll before leaving the school like any normal student would do. He was looking through the large windows and letting his mind wander, when a figure caught his attention. There, by the small garden outside, was a lone figure lazing around in the sun , flipping a book. Dark hair spread around her , body totally relaxed like her life was not in danger.

What the fuck she was doing? Was she trying to kill herself and everything in this fucking school? She-

He paused, a strong feeling of deja Vu coming to him. He recalled moonlight, a girl with a red hoodie and big headphones.. Shadows and scenes, along with vivids memories of him breaking apart in this girls hands.. cool hands caressing him , warm words comforting him...and he suddenly he took off.

He was running against all reason, heading outside to the unfamiliar girl that he knew.

Heading towards to the answers he craved, towards the proof that he was not crazy after all..

He finally reached her form that laid to the grass. Arms spread and eyes closed ,she looks the epitome of calmness. With her eyes closed ,she smiled and breathed out "Hey Lixie"

"You own me an explaination" he pointed out , towering over her.

Her playful, onyx eyes opened and peeped up at him. "So ...you remember now?" She wondered as she stretched.

"Some.Some I don't" He confessed.

She patted the space next to her. He lowered himself next to her, not taking his eyes off of her. " Explain now"

" Wow! You are so aggressive in the shadow!"she cheered

He didn't answered.

She mumbled something under her breath.

"Lee Felix.. you are a character in a comic book. Congrats" she stated inanimate ,but the cheery grin was still on her face... as if she didn't turn his whole world up on his head.

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liarian · 2 years

Text

One more step

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

The world seemed very different when Reigen's words came back to keep him company at all hours. It was strange not to have some notification on LINE at any time of the day. Katsuya had begun to look forward to calls that lasted late into the night. With his very presence, it was as if Reigen had kicked his life back into gear after months in limbo.

Katsuya was still waiting for Reigen to ask when they could meet up but so far it hadn't happened. Katsuya didn't know whether to be disappointed at the lack of interest or grateful that he didn't have to cross that line yet. The last week he had finally managed to spend several hours at a time in the dining room watching TV with his mom. Going outside, in broad daylight, people surrounding him everywhere, was still more than he was capable of dealing with.

Katsuya looked at the clock. It was already twenty minutes past four. It was strange that Kageyama-san was late.

"Did he tell you if he wouldn't be coming today?" Katsuya asked his mom.

"Didn't I tell you? He called that he'd come a little later."

"Oh, okay."

Katsuya twisted his fingers, trying to control his anxiety. Kageyama-san's visit on Tuesdays at four o'clock had become one of his routines. The time change threw him off balance. With nothing better to do, he locked himself in his room again. Katsuya bit his thumbnail until his cuticles began to bleed.

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

Katsuya didn't remember falling asleep when the doorbell interrupted his lethargy. The headache seemed unwilling to leave him alone but he made an effort to get up. Wrapped in his orange kimono, he walked out of his room. The TV was barely a murmur in the background.

"Are you sure giving him a surprise is a good idea?" Reigen's voice came from the foyer.

"If anything happens, I'm here. There' still time for us to go."

Katsuya rushed out to peek out the door leading to the foyer, convinced that his senses were playing tricks on him.

"Reigen?" Katsuya muttered.

His hands were shaking. His heart was pounding so hard that Katsuya was unable to hear anything else.

"Hey!" Reigen raised his hand in a shy greeting. "Long time no see."

"W-what are you doing here?" Katsuya was unable to look away, afraid that if he blinked even for an instant, Reigen would vanish before his eyes.

He still couldn't quite believe he was there. He had grown since the last time they had seen each other. The black gakuran was a little short in the sleeves.

"Kageyama-san thought it was a good idea." Reigen lowered his head, his bangs hiding his face. "And I didn't know if you'd say yes if I asked about coming over."

"I-I can show you my room, if you want."

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

Katsuya would never have imagined that he would feel comfortable having someone else in his space but Reigen seemed the exception to all his rules. Katsuya had barely said two words, glad just to see him there.

"Is that the NES Mario Bros?" Reigen pulled the box off the shelf and caressed it like someone holding a treasure in his hands. "And this is the first Zelda! How cool! Have you ever played them?"

"Only on emulators. The originals right now are sought after, they're collector's items."

Reigen put the games back in their place as if he was going to break them by accident. Being cooped up with Katsuya couldn't be what Reigen had in mind as an entertaining afternoon but for the moment he seemed content to snoop around every last corner of his bookshelves.

"Oh, Akira. I hear it's good but I've never gotten around to reading it." Reigen dragged the first volume with him and sat down on the bed cross-legged.

His fingers didn't seem to be able to sit still for a second. He flipped the comic up and down, his attention pausing for just a moment on a page.

"What else do you usually do when you're at home?" Reigen kept talking without waiting for an answer from Katsuya. "The models are a hoot, did you make them?"

Katsuya nodded his head. Anyone would have thought Katsuya was pathetic for not being able to leave his room in five months but not Reigen.

"Oh, the Breath of the Wind, I got that one!" Reigen picked up the Zelda game box on the desk. "Is that the one you're playing right now?"

"You don't mind if we stay here?" Katsuya asked nervously.

"Huh?" Reigen stared at him, head cocked to one side. The game was still in his hands. "Is there somewhere you want to go? Your room has a lot of cool stuff."

Katsuya shook his head. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Reigen's answer had been different.

"Anywhere is fine with me." Reigen shrugged. "You're fun to be with."

"Really?"

"Really."

#mp100 #mp100 ageswap #serizawa katsuya #arataka reigen #kageyama shigeo #serirei

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webbedphantom · 10 months

Text

Okay so I know I have a bunch of drafts but I really want to talk about my Ideas for Sae's Palace in my AU

To start off with, if you're familiar with the AU at all, you'd know that the MetaNav just straight up doesn't exist, so you might be wondering how I'd even do Sae's Palace? Like is it more about changing her heart through character interactions, kinda like how they do in-game but just making that the focus?

Yes and no.

They do actually go into her Palace, but to explain the how and why of it, there's some setup I need to do first.

See, the way this world works is that with every Persona user awakened by the Metaverse Serum (AF-15), the more the Metaverse begins to leak into the real world. And by the time of Sae's arc, there's now no less than 8 people awakened in this manner, meaning that the connection is now strong enough for something major to cross over, provided it got a little push.

The specifics of this I haven't exactly worked out yet, but someone (probably Akechi being driven mad by his symbiote) sets off a device that causes Palaces to erupt out of the ground, covering the surrounding area in a thick fog that turns people into mindless puppets for the shadows to control, forcing them to go out and bring more people into it. (If you've read my Other Verses doc, this is the scenario that inspired the Kingdom Come verse)

Naturally, this whole scenario isn't something the team was prepared to handle, and since it's affecting the entire city, they need to split up to take care of things, trying to save as many people as they can.

There's a lot that happens during this section, with each of the team members getting their own little missions fighting against one of the palaces (including a lot of original ones, as aside from Shido, Okumura, and Futaba, every other Palace Ruler is in prison and they sort of turn the place into a mishmash of all of their Palaces), either on their own or in small groups, before meeting back up to try and get things back to normal.

Now before we get into Sae proper, we need to do a bit more background to catch you up on her history in this world.

At the beginning of the year, Makoto and Sae's father was still alive, and was a police captain heading the team assigned to bring in the Spider-Man. But while he eventually realizes that they're on the same side, and even helps Aaron and the team against the Shadow Possessed victims, in the end he dies, getting stabbed through the chest by Jack-o'-lantern (As in someone possessed by a Jack-o'-lantern/Pyro Jack, though an evolved version of it that was strengthened by Yaldabaoth to make it more akin to the comic book supervillain of the same name. He's got a sort of Grim Reaper vibe to him, including a gigantic scythe blade on one of his arms) taking a blow that was meant for Aaron.

This naturally scars Makoto pretty badly, since she saw it happen. And while she didn't see the event herself, Sae was no different. She and her father had grown a bit distant over the years, but she still loved and respected him greatly, so losing him really tore her up inside.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Shido pulled some strings to make it seem as though it was Spider-Man who killed Captain Niijima. After all, no one really knew what happened that night, only that the Captain was last seen chasing after the vigilante, and while he didn't use it often, Aaron was known to carry a knife, even if it had a completely different blade from the actual murder weapon.

So Sae, believing in the lies of the falsified autopsy report, began to hunt down the Phantom Spider like her life depended on it.

Over the course of the next few months, Makoto would encounter the symbiote, which led to her lashing out at everyone around her as it took advantage of rage and grief. This would include her sister, and while the team would get her to come to her senses, it would lead to Sae finding out that she not only knew, but worked alongside the Spider. And while she would forgive her for what she did while wearing the suit, that revelation would cause her to disown her younger sister, forcing Makoto to stay with Futaba and Sojiro until she could get her bearings again.

NOW back to our present crisis, despite the growing rift between the two, Makoto still cares deeply for her sister, and immediately rushes to her workplace to make sure she's okay. Only to find a casino standing in the place of the courthouse.

Makoto manages to infiltrate the place, searching desperately for Sae, only to find her on a sort of show stage, being held captive by her Shadow. She tries to free her but ends up getting caught, and is forced to relinquish her symbiote to keep her sister from harm.

Aaron, having just wrapped up dealing with all of his old villains and the Shadows of the Palace Rulers trying to break out of prison, gets word (somehow, I'm not quite sure yet. Maybe Futaba??) that Makoto has been captured, and despite how exhausted he is, he immediately rushes over to try to save her.

Now I'm not quite sure how to work this in, but an idea I had that I thought would make for a neat scene was if Shadow Sae, for some reason, forced the two sisters to do a duet of Whims of Fate (inspired by this cover of the song). Not really sure why, maybe she's just toying with them or something, but I really like the concept.

As this is going on, Aaron begins tearing through the casino, fighting through hoards of shadows, chucking roulette tables across rooms, smashing through walls. He's getting tired but he can't afford to wait even a second, not while Makoto's in danger.

He breaks into the show room, and the second Sae sees him (the man who she believes killed her father), she snaps. Her shadow immediately transforms into Leviathan and begins to tear into the Spider. Makoto seeing this as a chance to escape, trying to use the fight as a distraction to get Sae to safety and get her suit back.

But Sae refuses to move, just staring at the battle before her in silence, almost frozen, but not due to trauma of seeing the Spider again. She's seen him before, several times. No, she's rather torn. Part of her wants him to see justice, to be brought in for his crime and unmasked. But another part of her, the part her shadow embodies, just wants him dead, wants him to suffer like she had to. So she just... watches.

Makoto isn't satisfied with that, though. She tries again and again to get through to her sister, to get her away from here or to convince her that Aaron didn't do it, but nothing seems to work. All the while Aaron is fighting for his life, and he's losing. He's too worn out, and can barely keep up with Leviathan's onslaught of attacks.

Eventually, Makoto figures out that the only way she'll be able to get through is by confessing everything, recounting how she was there when their Dad died, how she saw him get stabbed through the chest to save Aaron, how he fought so hard to keep them all safe, how they did everything they could to save him but it wasn't enough. It's painful for her, to relive one of the worst moments of her life, but she can't let her sister keep lashing out at the wrong man.

It takes Sae a while to process this, unsure if she entirely believes it. But in the end, she decides to act, helping Makoto get her symbiote back and working with her to take down her shadow and get them all out of here.

This would eventually lead to her getting her Persona, though it wouldn't happen right away. She needs to confirm the lies for herself, and come to terms with just how close her darker half came to killing someone, and how she was content to just watch it happen. But at some point, either towards the end or after the Palace situation is resolved, she would awaken to her power (One of the only natural awakenings in the AU, because yeah the connection to the Metaverse is now so strong that Personas can manifest in reality without the serum) as the Wraith.

She'd be a sort of mix between Wraith from the comics and Daredevil (both OG and Electra flavours), using her Persona to induce fear in her enemies, as well as hard hitting physical and gun skills, twin stun batons which she can ricochet off walls like Daredevil's billy clubs, and Wraith's wrapping... thingies for swinging around or tying people up.

I'm not entirely sure what her Persona would be though. I've seen some people either give her a Transformer like Makoto, or turn Leviathan into her Persona, and while I feel like that last one has some potential, I also think she should have something more... original I guess?

I don't know, kinda just spitballing at this point. Most of this stuff is very loose and definitely still needs some work, but I think the general idea is solid.

But anyways, that's my concept. Someday I want to flesh out the rest of this arc, like have an actual explanation for the Palace thing as well as a resolution to it, plus all the little side stories that take place with the rest of the team (I'd love for Futaba to come across the Palace of a shut-in who's going through something similar to what she does in canon, and for Haru to take on Sugimura. Maybe even have Ann and Ryuji come help Aaron at the prison so they can team up to take down Kamoshida, since they weren't actually a part of that fight in this universe).

There's a lot of potential here, honestly.

But that's enough of my ramblings. Thanks for reading!

#ooc - out of costume;#au thoughts #phantom spider au #persona 5 spoilers #kinda?

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zephyr-rat · 24 days

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Character Insights: Zac's Main Character Flaw

This blog post contains spoilers for the following Green Giant Saga Episodes: "Trouble at Trench Tunes Corner", "Monsters under the Trashbags", and "Fresh Sump Blood"

If you want to read the Green Giant Saga, you can do so here! This post is mainly here for more insights on how I'm writing characters

"No road’s easy for a hero, but I’ll get there. I have to get there. Maybe it will be complicated, but what else would I believe? If I just cling on to the hope that surrounds me, the hope I bring to others, I can’t be the monster. I can’t be a mindless weapon. I can be the hero."

----- ZAC

I know I used this quote for Zac's character insights too, but I love this line for how emblematic of Zac’s character it is. It’s a line filled with hope and determination, but also a line that ties his own identity with the emotions of others, something that he can’t have full control over. While Zac obviously does heroic deeds for the greater betterment of the Zaunites he’s saving, he also does it partially to help feel better about himself. Being the hero is a role that he can play outside of sitting idly down in the sumps with his parents. It’s a way for him to actively participate in the society he craves to belong to instead of just watching from the cracks. Furthermore, it helps reaffirm his belief that he can’t be a monster, even if the chem-baron reports and the wider populace say otherwise. How could he be a monster if he helps save people from danger? In fact, he’s a hero just like the ones in his comic books! He has that elastic power, and such power comes with responsibility after all.

On the one hand, this motivation drives Zac to be a great hero and will always force him to prioritize the well-being of others over anything else. He would be the one to make sure that everyone was okay physically and emotionally before moving on. He will make sure that everyone’s in at least a salvageable spot, even if they’re his enemies. We see this in the first chapter of “Trouble at Trench Tunes Records” when he stops a robbery but then asks the store owner to spare the orphaned sumpsnipe robber so that she wouldn’t go to jail and have her life ruined, even if she’s begging the store owner to shoot the green slime monster holding her, and it did work. The robbery was stopped and the orphan was spared.

However, in some situations, this mentality can be dangerous. In response to the lockdown after the attempted robbery, Zac is overcome with guilt as everyone in the sector becomes miserable and afraid, either from the big “chemtech thug” that the radio keeps hinting at or from the Piltover wardens that have a tendency for police brutality. When checking up on the store owner, the owner tells him to go away, screaming that he’s the reason why the lockdown is happening and his presence will make it worse. Zac doesn’t just feel bad because everyone’s miserable and he should have the power to do something about it, it’s also that everyone’s miserable and it’s all his fault. Afterward, Zac has a crisis and becomes on edge, wanting to find some way to make it all better, some other way than just sitting back and laying low. He’s impatient for an end to the misery and anxiety, refusing to think of long term solutions. He tries to turn himself in to the wardens twice, leading to catastrophic consequences for his parents and his home in the sumps, when in reality, he really should’ve just kept quiet.

It also makes him very easy to manipulate. If Zac’s so focused on making someone else happy, then that person could use that to control him. Currently, this can be seen through his relationship with Twitch, a delusional, murderous mutated rat who thinks he’s the sewer king. There are two big incidents of this within the current episodes: “Monsters under the Trashbags” and “Fresh Sump Blood”. In Monsters Under the Trashbags, Zac wanted to leave Twitch, receiving nightmares of his gruesome murders and crimes, but he ultimately chose to stay because he felt Twitch’s nightmares of being betrayed by Zac and left alone. Zac chose to take the first step with Twitch, being transparent on why he was unhappy with how Twitch is running his kingdom and his plans to move forward. In this context, this desire to do right by other people can be seen as a great character boon. His empathy and good nature allows him to strive for a better future, one where Twitch and Zac are friends and not enemies.

But then we have the final conversation of “Fresh Sump Blood” where Twitch shows unhappiness to Zac about how much he’s putting himself in danger with saving humans that have always hated him. Twitch claims that it's unfair that he’s making sacrifices to the safety of the kingdom by not killing while Zac decides to save their would-be exterminators. In the very end, Zac folds because Twitch vulnerably tells Zac that he doesn’t want to see his only successful creation die like the rest of his failed sentience experiments. Zac didn’t want to drag the fight on and let Twitch win because he didn’t want to put Twitch through that misery.

In both of these cases, Twitch isn’t trying to emotionally manipulate Zac to stay or give in to his demands, but it’s not hard to see an intentional abuser or manipulator try to use this against him.

Overall, this is the main character flaw and the internal character motivation for Zac: a strong desire to do right by everyone so that he can be the hero he wants to be instead of the monster that people say he is, a belief that he can change Zaun for the better as a lone superhero as long as he can make all Zaunites safe and happy. This makes him vulnerable to possible manipulation and rash decisions as a person who desperately wants to be part of Zaun. I don’t think this is anything original; I’m sure there’s a superhero or an anime main character that has these flaws, but I do believe this sets up a good base to grow a character around.

#zac #league of legends #league of legends fanfiction #the secret weapon #green giant saga #character insights #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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entertainment · 3 years

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Entertainment Spotlight: Tenika Davis, Jupiter's Legacy

Actress, model, and Taekwondo champion Tenika Davis stars as Petra Small in Netflix’s first original comic book series, Jupiter’s Legacy. Tenika began her career as one of the finalists on the first season of Canada’s Next Top Model before signing with Ford Models. She played a lead role in the indie hit, Jumping the Broom, with other credits including Wrong Turn 4: Bloody Beginnings, Degrassi: The Next Generation, Lost Girl, and Skins. Tenika lives in Ontario with her two cats, Maximillian and Symeon, and loves to travel, watch movies, read, study astrology, and paddle surf in her spare time.

How did you get into the mindset to play Petra Small? How do you stay in character?

Petra fights fiercely to protect the people she loves. That is something I was able to identify with. When I was growing up, all I wanted was to make my parents proud. I knew Fitz and Petra's family story all too well; as a child, my parents got divorced because of an extramarital affair. I remember thinking that their divorce was somehow my fault, and if I could do something to make them proud, it would bring my family back together. Petra is a classic overachiever. What drives her is the need for her father's love and approval. She wants a family and is able to find that dynamic through The Sampsons, who she considers family to her and Fitz.

Can you share a memory from the set of Jupiter’s Legacy that stands out to you?

During filming the big fight Supervillian fight scene, it was 3:30 am, and we had 30mins left after a 14 hour day, and only enough time for a few takes to get the shot. Everyone was feeling the pressure. I was the last person to go, and when they called action, I felt a fire erupt in me; I screamed and ran straight for the target throwing those punches as fast as I could. I broke through mental and physical limits that day and surprised myself with what I was capable of doing.

Your sun sign is Cancer. What's the truest meme you've ever seen about your sign?

They may forgive but never forget. Cancerians hold on to things forever.

What advice would you give to young Black talent looking to get their first break in the entertainment industry?

Everything is a process, and nothing great happens on your own. You will only be as great as your team and the people you surround yourself with. To make your dreams come true, it takes hard work, discipline, faith, and belief in yourself. These are the things that will keep you going in the face of adversity.

Without any spoilers, which of Petra Small’s scenes from Jupiter’s Legacy are you most excited for viewers to watch? Why?

There is a scene between Fitz and Petra at the Union of Justice. It's so touching because of the loving family dynamic. It's simple, a father seeing his daughter's struggle and saying exactly what she needs to hear to continue fighting. I think people will be affected by and see themselves in the beauty of that moment.

Which representation of the Black Experience helped shape you and your career?

Bishop TD Jakes was one of the first producers I worked with within my career. While filming Jumping the Broom, he gave the cast a few of his books. I didn't even know he was a pastor at the time. I read them all. I was so inspired by his story of how he built his church from scratch with no money. I knew that if he could do that, I could do the same thing with my career. He inspired me to never give up, keep pressing forward, and to this day is still one of my greatest mentors.

Can you give us a one-sentence modeling lesson or tip?

Think the thought, and your eyes will tell the story.

Do you know your moon and rising sign? Do those vibe with how you see yourself?

My moon sign is Aquarius; I enjoy spending time with myself, building my own future, and strive to become better with the power of my own will. I've always enjoyed setting my own standards and breaking through them. My rising sign is Pisces; there is a vulnerable child-like innocence and curiosity I've learned to love and appreciate about myself. It's true I can be and do most things I put my mind to. My mother actually named me 'Tenika' because she believed I would be a perfect 10.

What are you watching and/or listening to right now?

I'm a junkie for real-life success stories. Right now, I'm tuned into The Tony Robbins Podcast on Spotify. Not only is his story inspiring, but every person he has on the podcast has achieved excellence in their respective field. I've become obsessed with learning out how. Success leaves clues.

What’s next for you?

I want to learn every aspect of producing television & film and continue to learn how to use the medium to help create meaningful and impactful stories. As well as learn how to sword fight...

Thanks for taking the time, Tenika! Jupiter's Legacy is now streaming on Netflix. Photos courtesy of Netflix.

#entertainment spotlight #tenika davis #jupiter's legacy #blackexcellence365

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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AU where the DickKory wedding doesn’t happen as planned like in the comics, but here its because their friends, instead of just gossipping to each other about ‘what Dick did’ and how this is a mistake because he’s just trying to prove something and Kory’s just going along with it because she was shaken up by what happened too and kinda feels a need to feel/see it proven by him....

And instead, the other Titans (specifically looking at Wally, Roy, Garth and Donna, seeing as how those were the four who had plenty to say to EACH OTHER about their concerns but without any - except for Donna to Kory, and I maintain it wasn’t exactly the RIGHT thing to say - actually saying it TO them)....

No, instead here, they sit Dick and Kory down and ask why they’re really doing this and what's it all actually for, and when it comes out that Dick literally proposed in the heat of an argument about trying to convince Kory he never would have slept with Mirage if he’d known she wasn’t Kory, that she’s the only one he wants to be with and he was just desperate for her to believe it....well FINALLY this clusterfuck of chuckleheads pulls their heads out of their collective keister and starts looking at how FUCKED UP Dick is over all of this, and thinks back to the many, MANY times and ways he’s clearly displayed feelings of being deeply violated by what happened and how he was tricked, manipulated, didn’t want any of this, etc, etc.

And because they’re actually superheroes who are familiar with victims of all kinds and not dumbasses who are so quick to blame the lifelong friend noted specifically by everyone who meets him for his enduring LOYALTY at all times, in all cases - in fact, how often do these very same people give Dick shit about being TOO loyal to people even when they don’t deserve it, like when has an ability to commit EVER been this man’s problem, like who are you even talking to here - and like.....they finally get their heads on straight and go hang on, let’s take a beat. I feel like we maybe rushed to judgment and didn’t totally think through what happened here and now we’re thinking it sounds a lot more like rape which means Dick did nothing wrong and has nothing to prove and Kory can reaffirm what she’s always believed and only had shaken for a time, that Dick’s love for her is real and honest.

And they can then without any hurt feelings or implications as to the longterm viability of their relationship, call the wedding off as they recognize the proposal for what it actually WAS, aka part of Dick’s literal ongoing trauma response as he tried to reconcile his deep-down knowledge that he was a victim here, he’d been victimized, violated and betrayed by someone he had trusted to be a teammate, not unlike other times he’s been betrayed by people like Terra or had to feel the visceral feelings of betrayal even when it wasn’t their fault, like more recently when it was a possessed Joey who was mocking Dick while holding him captive and then y’know, getting murdered right in front of him, and Dick is very much not OKAY because of all of this.

Because its all hitting him in places where he is PARTICULARLY vulnerable because of parallel experiences he can’t help but associate with betrayal and manipulation and the subsequent experiences/feelings of being turned on and blamed by his friends for what he feels then is his responsibility to take sole accountability for, so all of this is very familiar, hits right to the bone of a lot of Dick’s core issues, and this time it just happens to all be compounded by the betrayal/victimization being deeply personal in a way none of the prior situations were, as well as being compounded by how nobody else seemed to even recognize he’d BEEN a victim.

And then by focusing on THAT instead of just gossipping about the SYMPTOM of his not being okay that was his shotgun proposal - which they all literally agreed only happened because Dick wasn’t okay - Dick and Kory can just mutually agree that they aren’t actually ready to get married, something both of them actually were very aware of and just trying to pretend otherwise, but they can further agree that its not a BAD thing they’re not ready to get married, it doesn’t mean they’ll NEVER be in the right place to get married, that this just isn’t it. Them not being actually ready to get married here and now, that has nothing to do with their RELATIONSHIP and everything in the world to do just with the specific reasons the proposal even happened, and their feelings and what they hoped to prove/be convinced of because of all that.

Meaning they then take a step back, Dick can get the help he needs with the support of Kory and his friends, and at some future point in his recovery, he and Kory can shift their focus back onto their relationship, mutually, leading to them eventually reaching the stage where they ARE ready to get married and one of them proposes to the other for the actual right reasons (which are really just, hey I love you and I want to marry you, its exactly that deep) and then they do get married and eventually start a family and things are still dramatic and chaotic and superhero-y but DUH, that’s because they’re SUPERHEROES, but they can still have a happy, healthy family life, the Kents do it all the damn time, and so can they....in this case they literally just needed a little help from their friends, so AU where that’s what they give them for their wedding gift. A ‘hey, call off your damn wedding,’ share circle.

Bonus points of course are that if the wedding never happens, DarkSide!Raven is left waiting in the wings and never gets her dramatic entrance moment to be like “Why yes, I object!” and so she misses her window and Kory and Dick are from that point on so surrounded by friends she never gets a good opening to possess Kory with the demon seed, so Kory never has to deal with ANY of that nonsense, because the LAST thing either Kory, Dick or their relationship needs to deal with, is MORE possession/brainwashing/mind control bullshit. Like enough already. They more than filled their quota. Let another happy couple dabble in the Being Possessed or Mind Controlled field for a change. Dick and Kory are MORE than happy to share. They aren’t going for a monopoly here.

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sirenascales · 3 years

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-> double black [part two] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A failed friend date turns into a day of fun and laughs with a rather odd coworker. [Dazai x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,274 words

Warning: suicide ideation (like, it's Dazai, c'mon now.)

note: I'm glad some of ya'll seemed to enjoy chuuya's chapter! I decided to just upload Dazai's and then we can move on to the story. Please enjoy! Tags in the replies.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Keiko-- Keiko, it's two PM!" I said into the phone, sending an apologetic look to my coworkers. "And I'm at work. You can't be calling me, especially when you're drunk so early in the day."

"Uggghhhh, you're so mean!" I sighed softly at Keiko's response, the office phone on my desk beginning to ring.

"Keiko, I have to go now, I'm sorry! Call Taichi and tell him to bring you home."

"Wait-"

I ended the call, rubbing my eyebrows as I picked up the other phone. "Armed Detective Agency, how may I help you?"

It's been around three months since I've started working at the Agency, and I have to say, it was a pretty great job. It paid well, kept me on my toes with the many different cases we took on, and my coworkers were great... despite how weird they were.

"That's like the seventh time your friend called you this week," Ranpo spoke up from his desk, the man literally surrounded by snack wrappers.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyebrows. "I know, I'm sorry everyone. She's not usually like this... I know she likes to drink, but... never to this extent."

"Maybe there is something going on?" the cute Atsushi suggested and I frowned. "Maybe you can try to find out?"

"It wouldn’t be wise to just push yourself into someone's private life like that," Kunikida added and I nodded in agreement.

Of course I couldn't. Not with who her boyfriend was. I was her best friend, but even I knew not to step in. "Besides, she always says she's okay when I ask..." I said thoughtfully, too distracted to continue my work. I could believe her, right? Besides, she had Taichi. He loved her, and always made sure that she was protected and taken care of. He always made sure to be around her when he wasn't away, keeping her to his side at all times. I thought maybe he was being a bit too protective, but I also understood because of his... profession.

"Alright, alright, we have a schedule, people. Let's not get too distracted here," Kunikida exclaimed and I laughed softly. The only one with a schedule was the super punctual man himself, but I still went on to do my work.

"Speaking of work..." I started, unimpressed as I Iooked to the empty desk across the office. "Where the hell is Dazai?"

Atsushi just hung his head and sighed, Kunikida gritting his teeth at his desk. "I tried calling him but he wouldn't pick up," Atsushi sighed again and I huffed, standing up from my desk. "I'll take my 30 now. I'll be in the cafe and I'll try to get Dazai to bring his scrawny ass to work."

The Agency was on the fourth floor of the building while the cafe was down on the first, very convenient for me. I was lazy and the coffee and food was good. I dialed up Dazai's number as I descended the four flights of stairs, pressing my phone to my ear.

At the top of one flight, I stopped when I heard a familiar ring tone blare out, and when I looked down to the bottom of the stairs, I saw the man of the hour. His brown hair was wavy as ever, his signature tanned jacket looking immaculate. I watched as he just looked at his phone, watching it ring before he put his phone in his pocket.

I hated him. "So you were just gonna ignore me?!" I shouted down the stairs. Dazai whipped his head up, eyes going comically wide.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, practically running up the stairs right towards me. I gasped and back away quickly, back hitting the wall as Dazai caged me between his bandaged arms. His forehead pressed against mine and I will my face not to burn as he looked at me with those pretty brown eyes of his. "I missed you."

My heart skipped a beat, my mouth going dry. Still, I glared up at the man. "We just saw each other yesterday," I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the feeling of his soft breath against my face. I was thankful my voice didn't crack. "And you have plenty of paperwork to do still on your desk."

"Ehhh, I'm tired and I'm busy," Dazai nonchalantly waved that off, now standing away from me and waving his hand dismissively. "Got better things to do."

I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yeah? Like what?"

With that, Dazai took my hands in his, a hopeful look on his face. Here we go again. "Double suicide."

"No." I immediately declined him. "My answer is still the same as it was last week."

Dazai visibly deflated, covering his eyes dramatically. "Sweet death... she evades me yet again..."

"Yeah," I deadpanned, brushing past Dazai and heading down the stairs. "Anyway. I'm heading to the cafe to get something to eat."

"Oh!" Dazai exclaimed, hooking my arm with his as he quickly came up to my side. "I'll go with you!"

"You have work to do!" I yelled at him, trying to push him back up the stairs. "Go before Kunikida has an aneurysm."

"But I don't wanna!" Dazai whined, quickly turning the tables on me. Now he was behind me, his arms wrapped around me and pinning my arms to my chest. I felt his breath against my left ear and I shivered deeply. "I wanna spend time with you..." he whispered softly, his voice dropping. I bit my bottom lip, looking over at him over my shoulder. I shivered again, the usual brightness in his eyes gone. I've only seen that look on his face a handful of times, and it never failed to make me feel completely on edge. Like I was in danger.

I liked it.

"Ugh," I sneered, rolling my eyes and shaking myself out of his arms. "Fine, fine. I'll treat today, okay?"

"Yay!" Dazai's jovial nature returned as he followed me to the cafe. I shake my head at the strange duality of the man. We sat across from each other, the redheaded waitress named Lucy that obviously had a crush on Atsushi giving us some menus.

As I looked over the menu, I looked over at Dazai, the man humming as he mulled over his choices. I bit the inside of my cheek, just feeling that maybe there was more to Dazai than he let on.

The weekend soon arrived and I was in a bit of a sour mood. I was at the boardwalk, sitting on an empty bench after getting off the phone with Keiko. We were supposed to spend the day together, but she had called me thirty-minutes late, all of a sudden saying that she couldn't make it.

Her tone of voice worried me, she sounded rushed and breathless, totally unlike her. "I'm okay. I'm sorry for flaking out so suddenly," she said before she ended the call. I blinked at the screen, a bit put off by the entire thing. Just what was up with her?

Though I couldn't dwell on it, for there was a presence behind me. "Well, well, look what we have here," a teasing voice whispered into my ear before blowing into it. I shrieked, jumping off the bench before spinning around.

"Dazai!" I hissed at the laughing man standing on the other side of the bench. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Bet it got your heart pumping, huh," Dazai hummed happily, skipping around the bench and right over to me. "Bella, I missed you~" he hugged me tightly in his arms. I sighed deeply, half-heartedly wrapping my arms around him in return and giving him a pat on the back.

"We saw each other yesterday."

"Eighteen hours is too long, bella."

I rolled my eyes, pulling away from the huge and giving Dazai a look. "You're so dramatic, dude," I say with a laugh, shaking my head. "What are you doing here?"

"Hmm, well I thought this would be a great place to think about how to commit suicide," Dazai began and I gave him another look. "But, I saw my bella looking so sad and lonely! I just had to rush to comfort her!"

Dazai hugged me again, squeezing me tight. I let out a struggling breath, writhing a bit in his hold. "You're killing me!"

"Oh! Let's commit do-"

"No, oh my God!"

I turned and stormed away from the suicidal man, shaking my head when I heard him call out for me. "Bella, wait!" He latched onto my arm, pressing his cheek against mine. "Tell me what's wrong. I am your trusted friend and coworker~"

"More like trusted pain in my ass," I mumbled before sighing, walking over to the boardwalk railing and staring out into the ocean. "It's Keiko. She was supposed to be with me today, but she just called and canceled..." I frowned deeply, eyebrows pinched in worry.

"What else did she say?" Dazai asked quietly, having gone serious once he saw the look in my face. "How did she seem?"

"Off..." I answered immediately before I looked over at my companion. "Or am I just imagining things? Yeah, I'm disappointed she flaked out but...." I hung my head. "I don't know..."

"Well, it could be nothing," Dazai suggested. "Or it could be something. There's no way for you to know."

I made a face at his vague ass answer before sighing again. "I can only trust her. She was the first friend I made when I moved to Japan, and I was excited to see her today. I've been having a rough time lately."

"Is something bothering you?" Dazai asked, and I shivered feeling his gaze on me.

"Eh... just depressed," I answered offhandedly. "Lonely. Normal sad girl shit, ya know."

That made Dazai snicker under his breath. "Yeah, I know. But luckily for you," Dazai started, arm draping around my shoulders and pulling me to him. "I'm here to save the day!"

I couldn't help it, I laughed before I wrapped my arm around his middle, letting him hold me against him. "You'll hang out with me today?"

Dazai grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

Time flew by so quickly, that I was surprised to look at my phone and see that it was damn near seven in the evening. Gaping, I looked up, seeing that the sky was slowly turning dark. "Holy crap, Dazai. Did we really spend the whole day out here?" I asked in shock, looking over at him. "What the hell did we do?!"

"What didn't we do," Dazai whined, slumping against me. "I'm tired... and you still wanna ride the stupid ferris wheel!"

"It's not stupid," I said with a pout. "Besides... we're already in line."

"Meh," Dazai grumbled, still keeping his body pressed against me as we waited in line. He was behind me, his chin pressed on my shoulder. I tried not to shiver as I felt his breath along my neck.

Soon enough, we were in our carriage and slowly riding up to the top. I took a few pictures as we did so, Dazai looking over in amazement.

"You think the drop from up here would kill me?"

"Yeah, and would scar everyone here."

"Oh yeah... can't have that."

I rolled my eyes, glancing over at him and pausing for a bit. Dazai was still looking out over Yokohama, an expression I've never seen before on his face. He almost looked... sad. Very handsome, his side profile absolutely perfect. But he still looked sad. I took a quick picture, smiling as I looked over it on my phone.

The carriage stopped and I couldn't help but grin as we just swayed softly up in the air. "Thanks for spending the day with me, Dazai. It would have sucked if I had spent it alone."

"Ahh, don't sweat it, bella. I couldn't possibly leave you out here alone," Dazai answered dramatically and I laughed and rolled my eyes.

I felt a vibration in my pocket and I grabbed my phone, smiling at the cute selfie that Keiko sent to me.

'I'm so sorry for bailing! I'll make it up to you, I promise! ❤ mwuah'

"Is that Keiko?" Dazai asked and I nodded, sending her a quick reply.

"Yeah. She seems to be doing okay," I said, feeling a bit relieved.

"That's great!" Dazai exclaimed, getting up from his spot and carefully making his way to sit beside me, much to my horror.

"Dazai! We're not supposed to move around!"

"We're fine!" he waved me off dismissively. "Now you can stop worrying about Keiko and focus on what's important. Me."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You?"

Dazai hummed. "Yes, me. And how I'm taking you home tonight."

My jaw drops, face heating up at his words. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Dazai answered, his voice dropping a bit as his gaze and entire mood changed. His gaze was darker now, his lips curled up in an almost dangerous smirk. "I think it's time we stop tiptoeing around each other and just take what we really want."

My mouth went dry and I quickly became flustered, turning my head away. Immediately, a hand is grabbing my face, Dazai digging his fingers into my cheeks as he forces me to look back at him.

"Nuh uh, you look at me when I'm speaking."

His authoritative tone makes me freeze, heart pounding in my chest as I stared at Dazai, completely bewildered. I knew there was something more about him than he had let on, and whatever it was, had me in fight or flight mode.

"Now, when we're done here, we're gonna leave and head back to my place, okay?" he asked me, but his tone made it seem like it wasn't a request, and it sure as hell didn't match the seemingly innocent smile on his face; not when it didn't reach his eyes.

I nodded, Dazai removing his hand from my face. His smile sent shivers down my spine.

"Good."

"Mmn... fuck, Dazai..." I moaned and gasped softly, the man on top of me littering my neck with angry red and purple marks, two of his fingers working inside my pussy. I was completely naked on his bed, Dazai only in his underwear-- and his bandages still wrapped around his arms and chest.

"Hey, what did I tell you?" Dazai whispered against my neck, curling his fingers and smirking when I cried out. "Call me Osamu. Don't make me tell you again."

I frantically nodded my head, crying out again as he sped up the pace of his fingers, his mouth moving down to my chest. "F-fuck, Osamu!"

"That's it," he whispered, taking one of my hardened nipples into his mouth. My fingers curled into his soft brown hair, head tilting back and eyes screwing shut as Dazai continued to pleasure my body.

It wasn't long until he pushed his hard cock into my wet pussy, the both of us groaning at the feeling of us finally connecting. I was on my knees and elbows, pillow placed under my hips. Dazai started out slowly, biting his lip as he watched his dick disappear inside of me.

"Fuck... I'm gonna burn this sight into my memory," Dazai groaned, making me whine as I shook my head.

"D-don't stare like that..."

Dazai chuckled softly, his hands grabbing my hips as he started to move faster, thrusting harder. I moaned and whined, it seemed to be the only thing I could do while Dazai fucked the shit outta me. "Osamu... please..."

My whining made the man above me grin widely, his thrusts becoming rougher, almost wild as he suddenly reached out and grabbed a handful off my hair. I yelped when he yanked me up, my back now pressed against his chest and his other hand wrapped around my throat.

"What is it, bella?" he hissed into my ear, pounding away at my pussy and making me cry out again. God, it was too much all at once. "What does my pretty little subordinate want?"

I whined. "I want to cum... please Osamu..."

He cackled, pushing me back on the bed, grabbing my hips so hard, I knew I was gonna bruise. "Cum then," he hissed down at me, pushing my face into the mattress. He fucked me relentlessly, fingers finding my clit and rubbing harsh circles. That made my vision go white, my scream muffled as I came hard, body going rigid as pleasure overtook my body.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Dazai grunted. He pulled out, ignoring my whines as he stepped off the bed. "Get on your back."

I barely rolled over halfway until there was a strong grip on my ankle, my body being pulled down the length of the bed. Dazai stood at the end, wasting no time in pushing my legs back by the back of my knees, and plunging his cock back into me.

I looked up at him through teary eyes, and I knew I should have been afraid of the mad look that was in his eyes, the way his lips were curled up in a snarl. But it just made my pussy clench around him in arousal, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

I came a second time as he did his first, and much to my ultimate pleasure, we weren't finished there. We pleasured each other through the night, until we wore each other out and fell asleep entangled in the sheets.

I woke up the next morning, groaning in pain as I felt my body ache. I forced myself to sit up, looking around blearily and humming softly when I found Dazai sitting on the edge of the bed, his bare back to me.

"Good morning," he sang to me and I giggled softly, carefully moving to kneel behind him. The blankets fell from around me and I pressed my bare chest against his back. "Hm, that's nice."

"Morning," I said softly, peeking over his shoulder. "What are you do-"

I stop, staring as Dazai wrapped seemingly clean bandages on his heavily scarred left arm. I swallowed thickly, my mind running at what could have possibly been the cause of those scars.

But deep down, I knew that the cause was Dazai himself.

"Do... Do you have enough?" I asked softly, not knowing what else to even say. I didn't want to pry or seem insensitive, just having to get over this metaphorical punch in the gut myself.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Dazai answered, turning to face me with a cheery smile on his face. In a matter of seconds, I was flat on my back, Dazai on top of me with his lips pressed against mine. It was easy for him to make me forget about what I saw, his kisses stealing my breath away.

"I have to go," he said softly, pushing himself off me after a moment.

I nodded solemnly, watching him continue to get dressed. "Alright. See you at work tomorrow?"

He smirked at me. "You know the answer to that."

I rolled my eyes again, just as my phone started to ring. I grabbed it, sending Dazai a quick smile before answering the call.

"Hey Keiko, guess who got fucking laid." That made Dazai snort while I grinned, though my grin fell as I didn't hear Keiko go off like I thought she would. "Keiko?" I shared a look with Dazai.

"Hey... I need you. Can I come over?"

#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yeehaw #chuuya smut #yeah lmao goodnight

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years

Text

Assassini | G.W

Warnings // 3.5k // SMUT 18+, Sex, knife play, assassins, murder, attempted assassination??, contracts, ownership, breath play, begging.

A/N // Hi I am literally obsessed with assassins creed that is the only thing that prompted me to want to write this. this is not by any means my best work i just couldnt get the idea out of my head. that is all. thank you @gcdric for helping me as historically accurate as possible.

Your chest heaved as you stepped through the opening double doors and into a stunning reception area; rolling stone walls and a beautiful glass ceiling that showcased the fantastic hues of the Florentine sunset. You knew what you had to do, after all you would have never taken on the task if it didn’t fall within your capabilities. You rubbed your hands together before smoothing out your dress, you felt a fool coming to a high-class party on your own, knowing that the image of a stunning and well presented lady such as yourself standing on her own was sure to cause a scene among men, but with such an important target you couldn’t afford to be chasing around or keeping a date in tow; there was simply too much to lose.

Feeling the cool metal of the dagger sheathed against your thigh brought you back down to reality, your mind had begun to wonder of a life away from the horrors that came with the trade, what it was like to be a trophy wife on the arm of a wealthy man. That was not the life you had been blessed with, instead you spent your days between contracts, taking out whoever you needed to to get the pay, taking your prize gracefully before you were onto the next. People feared your ability to be able to take a life without remorse and without question, that was the reality of who you were; a cold blooded assassin.

The latest contract had been practically shoved down your throat, only just finishing up business before you were being shipped off to track the next target. No rest for the wicked. You were on your way to the grandest bash of your career, it would be packed with every wealthy man you could think of, every bachelor prancing around trying to find a wife but your eyes were dead set on finding one man - George Weasley. A very wealthy man, but ruthless, known well for the money of his family name but known better by the blood money that kept him feared by many. It was a contract that only a fool would take, failure ended in torture. You were no fool and you would not fail.

You knew the person who had last attempted the Weasley Contract - not the brightest man but someone who was notorious for getting the job done, it all came as a surprise at the order when the news of his death spread through the halls like wildfire. His tactics were good; sneak past the guards and get him dead in the night, his downfall was that George knew he was coming, waited for him even. You were glad however, that despite taking on the failed contract, you had the element of surprise on your side, nobody suspects a woman, not even George.

You caught sight of him standing with his hands pressed against the railing as he leaned over the balcony, eyes surveying the room as he spoke to someone standing beside him. George was tall, that much was obvious from the way he towered above most people standing around him, he had a chiselled jaw, dark striking eyes and long messy orange hair. He looked like a god, a pedestal he had placed himself on, and you knew that you had to get closer to him, better yet get him alone.

You had never once whored yourself out for the sake of a job, your years upon years of training gave you a sharp enough edge that you wouldn't ever need to rely on a feminine touch but tonight was different, the way his eyes scoured the crowd, you knew he was hungry for some female attention and if you had to give in to anyone for the sake of the job, it would be him.

You wore a beautifully detailed red gown, the corset pulled tight around your waist emphasised your ample breasts, threatening to spill at any moment and left not much to the imagination. Your plan was to catch his eye and you knew this was the dress that would do that. You followed his gaze and placed yourself directly in his line of vision, careful not to make yourself too obvious as to not attract unwanted gazes. When he caught sight of you he swore he could have stopped breathing, you truly were a vision of God.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you from that moment on and you had to admit that having a lingering male gaze did make your cheeks flush, suddenly feeling stuffy under the many layers of dress. George instructed one of his men, rather curtly, to bring you to him, a task that was handled quickly and with hurry as one of his aides approached you. “Mr Weasley has requested your company.”

Perfect, everything was going exactly to plan. As you were led up a grand staircase and past the guards that hadn’t even given you a second look. Now that you were on the private balcony, surrounded by members of the Weasley family and their company who were all schmoozing without any care in the world for the hundreds of guests below them, each one hoping they would be lucky enough to get that special invitation. Standing just behind George you were able to see with your own eyes just how much he truly did tower over you. Something inside of you bubbled and you refused to believe that it was anything but pure happiness for your plan going as well as it had.

“What’s a pretty Lady like you doing here on her own?” He asked smoothly, eyes not falling away from the gaze they held over the bustling crowd. As you looked over the balcony you could see that the room was packed, spotting the way the men flirted with any and every woman they could lay their eyes on, couples falling to the edges of the room in passionate lip locks, uncaring for the vast group of people around them.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” You quipped back, watching as a smile fell over his lips, finally pulling his eyes away from the crowd to face you. The moment your eyes locked again, this time inches away from him you felt that same bubbling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“No respectable partner would let their Lady come to a party with her breasts heaving like that, well… not unless the Lady wants to be seen.” His eyes scanned over your upper body before meeting your eyes once again. You weren’t sure why you were holding your breath but the second his knuckle was grazing over your exposed collarbone, brushing your hair over your shoulder, you finally let out a slow, shaky breath.

“And to think I was just wearing a nice dress.” You sighed comically, turning back to lean your hands against the railing, taking a moment to compose yourself without having to stare into his eyes. Never in George’s life had a woman thought of talking back to him, so having you quip back at him with a tongue as sharp as his own, practically running circles around him in conversation made him even more determined to have you.

“You’re a quick one, smart I assume, probably raised by men, or at the very least a strong minded woman. A fighter too, you have the shoulders for it, money doesn’t matter to you much from your lack of jewellery- Stop me If I’m wrong.” With every assumption that spilled from his lips, you realised that you had blown your cover, fear immediately building in the pit of your stomach until it reached your eyes. “So what brings you here, If not for a man, what for?”

“Who said I didn’t want a man?” You finally looked back at him, a teasing smile on your lips. You watched his face ease, taking a brave step closer to him as you realised that he truly didn’t have a clue. You were brave for doing this, letting him see a vulnerable side to you, one that could leave you easily exposed.

“I’m sure you know who I am, don’t you sweetheart? Yet I haven’t a clue who you are.” He was smooth, able to pull your name from your lips without even a second thought. Perhaps it was a bad idea to lead this way, fearing that a part of you would grow attached to his smile or addicted to his perfect laugh.

“Well, count yourself lucky that you’re up here then, all you’ll find is boys down there.” You weren’t surprised that George was the cocky sort of man, part of you found it endearing that he obviously had some sort of saviour complex about him, figuring that he would selfishly have you to himself and ‘save’ you from being surrounded by the inferior.

“I’d be luckier alone with you.” You leaned in, whispering just low enough for him to hear. You were feeling brave enough to get suggestive with him, hoping that he would catch your tone and give you some time alone. You felt his hand pressing against the small of your back as he pulled you in closer, your mind wondering as soon as you could breathe in his scent, a part of you forgot why you were truly here as it became drunker off of the male attention.

All it took was one look from him to his aide and you were being led by him, past his friends and family up another set of stairs. You heard the sounds of chatter, laughter and clinking glasses fade away as you were ushered into a private room, the doors swinging shut behind the two of you, finally realising that you were alone with him.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re really here?” He sighed, pulling at your wrist to tug you into his chest, his hot breath fanning in your neck as you stood pressed against each other, uncaring for the huge amounts of space that the room had to offer. Being so close him made you lose all of your inhibitions and suddenly the contract no longer mattered to you, the one thing that did however, was bedding the man who had you in a trance. In all your years of working contracts, nobody came above the job but now as your lips were inches away from his, George Weasley was more important.

"I'm here for you." You muttered, hand snaking up to tangle in his long, messy hair, giving the locks a gentle tug that made his eyes darken. Feeling him guide you backwards, taking small steps with him until your back hit a wall. His strong hand travelled its way up your leg, hoping to hitch it up to hook around his hip as he pushed every layer of fabric up so he could get a good look at the gorgeous thighs he wanted wrapped around his head. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his fingers stop over your dagger, pulling it free from where it was held.

As his eyes surveyed over the intricate detailing of the handle, you couldn't help but avoid his gaze, startled only by the chuckle that fell from his lips. "A mark of the brotherhood… They send you to bed me and leave me vulnerable?"

You shook your head, watching as he pressed the dull side of the blade against your throat, his commanding eyes forcing you to look at him as he pressed himself closer to you. "They sent you to kill me?"

He pulled the dagger from your throat, shoving it into your hand as he laughed, pulling away from you, letting the skirt fall back in its place as he turned around to walk away from you and deeper into the room. It was obvious that he wasn't afraid by you, certainly less the prospect of you being able to kill him. You didn't like being underestimated, much less by someone who would be easy for you to kill. You pushed yourself away from the wall coming up behind the man and tackling him to the floor, hips straddled directly over his as you pressed the knife against his throat, watching the way his eyes lit up with surprise, his hands finding your hips to grip onto tightly.

"I like you, you've got a lot of nerve, probably one of the most gorgeous women I've ever laid my eyes on so tell me what's the contact worth?" He chuckled, hands tugging to grind your hips against his tentatively, watching as you fumbled to keep your thoughts straight. Composing yourself as you ignored the pleasurable feeling of your hips rocking against his, instead pressing the dagger closer to his throat. You were about to respond to his question when he cut you off quickly.

"Whatever it is I'll double it, hell I'd even triple it under two conditions." He spluttered quickly, hands stilling as he realised that you weren't to be messed with. You cocked your head to the side, pulling the blade from his throat as you considered what he had to say, dragging the tip of your dagger gently over his jawline and down his chest with a sickly sweet smile, the alluring confusion evident in your tone of voice "Conditions?"

"Condition one, Work for me and I'll pay better than any contract ever could and two, you're mine to have." He suggested, his tone coming across as commanding making it seem like you truly had no choice in the matter but you knew better.

"I don't belong to anyone, Weasley, especially not someone I work for." You bit back, watching as he laughed softly, hand gripping at your waist as he flipped you over, the dagger clattering against the floor as he pinned your hands down, back pressed firmly against the cold surface, feeling him press his lips to your exposed neck. "You belong to me now, seems a waste of such perfect breasts for you not to be."

"Were you going to whore yourself out for me? That's precious." His lips travelled down, peppering wet kisses along your collarbone as his hands still gripped onto your waist. Any semblance of fight in you disappeared the minute his lips were on your skin, a sick part of you adored how he wanted you but an even sicker part wanted him to take you.

"Where's the confidence, darling? Not ready to submit to me already, are you?" His voice was thick with arousal, hands finding their way to your hips again as he slowly ground his hips into yours, teasing you ever so slightly as he pushed himself closer to you. Somehow George had managed to shock you into silence, your head filled with nothing but the the image of him fucking you into the morning, not even room to think of a quick remark or retorting comment to quip back at him.

“You’re insufferable.” You breathed out, letting his strong arms pull you off of the floor, hoisting you up on his hips to trap you between the wall and his chest once again, his hand this time was quickly up your skirt once again, feeling the wetness that pooled between your legs that confirmed you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “And yet you spread your legs for me with ease.”

He didn’t dare tease you any longer, pulling himself free and sinking into you like there was no time to lose. Just when you thought you were full, he had more to give and you were feeling stretched out beyond belief. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pulled loud moans from you with every deep and slow thrust, the pleasure coursing through you had you rolling your head back which he only took as an invitation for him to wrap his hand around your throat, groaning lowly as his eyes flicked over the way your face contorted with overwhelming pleasure, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“George, please.” He hummed at the way your voice came out with the strained begging, feeling pleasure build in the pit of your stomach as you realised the churning movement you had been feeling throughout the evening had been butterflies, the building want and desire for the man who was now fucking you loudly into the wall.

“I like hearing you beg, what do you need, sweetheart?” He hummed, pressing his lips to your exposed neck, right over where your vocal chords were, feeling the vibrations of your moans flow through his lips, pushing him over the edge to pick up his pace, focused intently on making you cum as he found himself growing addicted to the way you squeezed around him.

“I need to- George, It feels so good.” He shook his head, pulling completely from you, letting your feet drop to the floor as he spun you around so that your chest was pressed to the wall, whines still falling from your lips as his hands were back up your skirt, pulling your hips into the right position to push himself inside you again, this time his hands pulled at the strings of your corset, tightening it to a point where it only added to the pleasure he was making you feel.

“You only get to cum when you ask for it.” With every thrust, it felt as if he was tugging your corset that little bit tighter. Pushing you closer and closer to the release you craved, so desperate for it that the only word that fell from your lips was ‘please’. Not what he wanted to hear. One of his strong hands pulled your hair into his fist, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder, a smirk evident on his lips through the tone he used, “Please, what?”

“Please, I need to cum, George” You whined, hand coming up to wrap around his forearm, nails digging into his skin as his pace picked up finally, the hand still attached to the strings of your corset giving a final tug as you released around him, becoming a mess of spluttering moans for him as he pulled out of you, spinning you around once again to thread his fingers into your hair and pull you into a passionate kiss.

Something about the way his lips tasted made you never want to pull away, finding yourself chasing his lips as he pulled away to gaze over your features, a smile on his lips as he took in just how beautiful you were, feeling like for a moment he may have truly met his match, watching as your chest heaved while you slowly drank in the high he had given you. “Next time I hope to see these beautiful breasts in all their glory,”

“Next time? Thought you knew I have to kill you now.” You laughed as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ear, an action that sent a shiver down your spine. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, head shaking slightly to sway the hair out of his eyes, an action that made you melt at the knees.

“Very funny, now about your first contract.” He spoke quickly, tucking himself away and making himself presentable before pulling you deeper inside of the room, standing you by a large painting, tilting your chin up to avert your gaze to a particular individual, “Know who that man is, angel?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes gazing over the large, pristine painting, well aware of who he was. The man that had set the contract over George’s head. You nodded at his question, his arm slinking around your waist as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your ear. “Good, I want information; You tell him I’m dead and find out what his next move is, if you get me that, I’ll know you’re loyal, just for that I’ll pay you more than you’ve ever seen.”

“George, he’s the one that requested this cont-” You spoke quietly, his hand tugging you closer to his body, a deep sigh falling past his lips, leaving you in silence for a few moments until his warm toned voice spoke up once again.

“I know, and you’re going to find out why, understand?” He sounded genuinely upset, the man who had ordered the hit on him was a close family friend, but yet someone who craved the power that George had. Part of you knew that it wasn’t just Cedric Diggory that wanted him dead but he was the only one with enough money to make the bounty worth it, and yet you had found yourself wound up on his side. “Good girl.”

Your chest was still heaving as you stepped through the opening double doors, this time hand in hand with the man who you had come here to kill, something had changed in your time alone and you knew that you would be the last person to hurt him. You were running off the high of belonging to someone, a new contract and the willingness to submit. You were George’s new personal weapon, a force that even he didn’t know the true extent of. Better to have you on his side than against him, as good as you felt against him after all.

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @pansydaisy @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @pigwidgexn

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