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sineala · 3 years

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Captain America: The Great Gold Steal

I wrote this up last week because I did not have access to my usual comics files but I figured I could review something that was just a book. So here is a review of the 1968 Captain America novel Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White, with an introduction by Stan Lee. I really liked it, actually! It was surprisingly good!

This novel features: Cover art of Captain America holding his shield in one hand and a very large gun in the other! A scene where the villains dramatically unmask Captain America and have absolutely no idea who he is! Captain America being extremely, extremely depressed about being in the future! Captain America dropping acid!

(I'm not kidding about the last part. In this novel there is a lot of LSD use. By Captain America. Talk about something the Comics Code wouldn't ever let you put in a comic book. Thank you, 1968.)

Faithful readers may remember that some time ago I posted reviews of Marvel prose novels from the 1970s. There was a line of prose novels featuring everyone's favorite Marvel superheroes, published by Pocket Books in the late 70s; I have reviews of the Iron Man, Captain America, and Avengers entries in the series; I liked the Iron Man one best, and I also have a Doctor Strange one I have not yet read. They're all short and action-packed paperback reads, of varying quality; the only one by anyone you might have heard of is the Avengers one, which was written by David Michelinie, who was actually writing the Avengers run at the time. That one was, um. An experience.

(Yes, it's "prose novel" because otherwise the assumption is "graphic novel.")

Marvel still publishes prose novels now, of course, also of varying quality; some are new plots and some are straight-up novelizations of comics arcs, which I guess is useful if you want to, say, read Civil War and not look at pictures at the same time. I also have a bunch of those that I could probably review if anyone wants. But, anyway, I personally am particularly intrigued by the older Marvel prose novels, both because the stories are all original and not retellings, and also because I often prefer the characterization found in older comics. And the older prose novels of course use the then-current characterization. So reading a Marvel prose novel from 1979 is like getting to read a brand-new comic from 1979, and that's a whole lot of fun for a nerd like me. Also do you know what's not subject to the Comics Code? Prose novels. So things can happen in these that definitely could not happen in comics of the same era.

This brings me to my current prose novel, which is something else entirely. I mean, okay, not really, it's still a Marvel prose novel. But it's not part of the same line. It's actually a lot older.

Bantam Books actually published Marvel prose novels in the late 60s. Yep, a full decade earlier. They published exactly two, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that they were probably not bestsellers. The first one, which I do not own and now sort of want to track down, was an Avengers novel in 1967, The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker. And then in 1968 they published the novel I am currently holding in my hands, Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White.

(I am still not sure why no one involved in titling this book thought of the word "theft.")

Judging by the back copy, it appears to be about Captain America foiling the villains' dastardly plan to steal gold from the Federal Reserve. Oh boy. Fun.

So this book is from 1968. The modern Marvel universe had kicked off just a few short years ago! Captain America was just getting his own solo book after the end of Tales of Suspense! And here's a novel about him, back when certain elements of his characterization were perhaps a little more flexible than they are today, by which I mean that the cover art -- which the internet informs me was painted by Mitchell Hooks -- is a striking full-body portrait of Captain America, head held high, shield in one hand... and a very large gun in the other. Hell, yeah. Not gonna see that in today's Cap comics, are you? It's amazing and I love it.

(Okay, you might see that in Ults. I'm pretty sure I have seen that in Ults, actually. But this is still cool.)

So the cover art is a definite plus, and apparently it's one of the few reasons anyone has ever heard of this novel. The other reason -- and the reason this is more expensive than the later novels, I assume -- is that Stan Lee's name is slapped on the cover, because he wrote an introduction. (I think I paid about $30 for this. The others were definitely under $20.)

All right. Here we go.

The first page is actually a brief summary of Steve's origin story, but not a version I was familiar with. Steve was born July 9, 1917 (yes, I was surprised too), was orphaned at a young age, and was a student at Columbia University (!) before Rebirth, which in this version is a gradual process that is also extremely body-horror. Steel tubing was inserted into the marrows of his bones. He was fed "high-protein compounds." Then they gave him a chemical that "gave him complete control over every nerve, muscle, and cell in his now-magnificent body." Sweet. Where can I get some of that?

The blurb also confirms his control over his own metabolism as well as his healing factor ("wounds would heal in half the normal time"), which is nice, because sometimes I wonder if canon even remembers the healing factor.

(I don't know why Marvel has this kink for filling people's bones with metal, though. It's not actually empty in there, guys! You need your bone marrow! How else do you want people to make new blood cells?)

The book is dedicated to "Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, without whom there would be no Captain America." Hey, Marvel, Joe Simon would like a word with you. I'm just saying.

The Stan Lee introduction is three paragraphs written in Stan Lee's, um, inimitable, distinctive and extremely florid narrative style -- if you've read any of his work, you know what I mean -- and making the point that Captain America is incredible and you will like him. If you are just discovering him for the first time, you will definitely like him. Okay. Thanks. I guess.

Oddly, the writing style here is substantially different than any of the other Marvel prose novels I've read; it doesn't immediately front-load you with exposition and a cast of colorful superheroes. It opens with a sort of James Bond spy-novel feel, running through a series of unnamed villains and bystanders, and a man who wants nothing more than to talk to Captain America but is killed before he can. Steve comes in halfway through the chapter, and he seems to be written for a reader who doesn't necessarily know who he is, and he isn't introduced as Captain America with his shield flying ahead of him to smite evildoers, or anything like that. He's just a tall, handsome blond guy who is reading a bunch of novels and is unsatisfied by all of them because all he can think of is the past. It's definitely an attitude I would expect from Steve in this era -- he is very much a Man Out Of Time here -- but it's also not how I expected the book to introduce him. You wouldn't even know he was Captain America by the end of the opening chapter, which then ends with a digression about the history of NYC subway tunnels. It's like it wants to appeal to someone who has watched a bunch of Man from UNCLE and just wants to read a cool thriller. Which is not at all what I was expecting.

By the beginning of the second chapter, of course, we discover that Steve is Captain America, as he changes into his uniform. The narration refers to him as Rogers when it's in his POV, if anyone is curious. He apparently keeps the cowl off in the mansion, because the cowl annoys him.

It was not so much that he needed to conceal his identity these days, because for all intents and purposes he had no other identity. Steve Rogers was officially dead, and had been for almost twenty years. Captain America *was* his identity. It was only when he donned the tight-fitting blue uniform with its shield chest-emblem, the red snug-fitting leather boots, and the heavy, yet pressure-sensitive red-leather gauntlets, that he began to feel real -- a complete human being.

Steve? Buddy, are you okay there? You're really not okay, are you, huh?

You see what I mean? They're really hitting the early-canon angst. Hard.

(Also it sounds like his uniform is a few sizes too small.)

We then get an expanded version of the backstory from the beginning excerpt. In this version of canon, Steve actually has an older brother, Alan, who is handsome and athletic and basically amazing, and when they are orphaned they are raised by their aunt and uncle. Steve gets TB twice as a kid, nearly dies from it, and when the stock market crashes, ends up separated from his brother and in an orphanage after his uncle loses everything.

(Honestly if I were writing this book, his brother would be the secret villain. Chekhov's Gun!)

Steve has glasses, gets bullied, is a nerd and an honor student, and studies law at Columbia because he wants to help stop fraudulent business practices and also fight organized crime. Legally, I mean. In a manner relating to law. I guess he's sort of like Daredevil. The lawyer part of Daredevil.

And then he joins Rebirth, and this is the part where I had to put the book down for several minutes, because Erskine's secret chemical, the key to making super-soldiers... is LSD.

Oh my God. You should see my face right now. My expression is, I am sure, indescribable. I'm trying not to wake the dog up laughing.

I just. Holy shit. This book is from 1968 in a way I definitely was not expecting. What the fuck, Marvel?

This project was headed by the brilliant biochemist, Dr. Erskine. His work with the endocrine system, and chemical body control, was well beyond that of his contemporaries. Only he, of all his colleagues, had fathomed the secrets of the Swiss Dr. Hoffman's 1938 discovery -- the mind-controlling LSD-25.

Let's just pause here for a few minutes and contemplate this.

I will point out that Albert Hofmann (yes, the book spelled his name wrong) didn't actually discover that LSD was a hallucinogen until 1943 when he accidentally tried it, but I am positive that 1968 here was a time when Some People were convinced LSD was a wonder drug. I'm still laughing. As far as I can tell, legal manufacturing of it stopped in 1965 so I am pretty sure that the author did not just decide to name a drug that had an ostensible legal therapeutic use, because it wouldn't have still had one by '68.

Anyway, in this version of events, Rebirth is a month-long process that involves a lot of vitamins, physical conditioning and training, and, yes, putting metal in his bones like he's the next Wolverine. They're filling his bones with stainless steel rods to make him stronger. That doesn't seem like a great idea to me, but I am also not sure about dropping acid to gain superpowers. Clearly I am not a genius scientist. Also Erskine knows what DNA is, apparently, because he's just that great. Anyway. Other than the metal, those all seem like relatively normal interventions. So far.

Now Steve has become fairly big and strong (and I guess he still has metal in his bones? this concerns me!) but they need to make him superhuman, so, yes, really, it's time to drop acid. Several pages of this book are devoted to describing Steve's acid trip. His acid trip is amazing and he discovers that he has conscious control of his entire body down to the cellular level. He can control the adrenaline in his bloodstream! He can tighten his muscle fibers! And when he's done tripping he still remembers how to do this, if not exactly on a conscious level, but he can still access the abilities. And that is how you make a super-soldier. It's LSD. Remember, kids, drugs are awesome! Do drugs!

Let's maybe take a few more minutes to think about this.

I just. I have no words. How did anyone at Marvel agree to print this?

I think for the most part superhero origin stories tend not to involve real drugs because people are generally aware that drugs they've heard of won't make you into a superhero. I guess this is what it looks like when you invoke the names of real drugs. They probably wanted something that sounded more realistic but somehow I don't think this was the best way to go. (Radiation, of course, will definitely make you into a superhero but I feel like most people have accepted that as one of the conventions of the genre.)

Anyway, after that Erskine gets killed by Nazis, of course, and Steve goes to war, and for some reason this book contains footnotes by Stan Lee himself listing the comics you can read all of this in. Just like the actual comics do!

We are introduced to Bucky, who for some reason is also from the LES in this version, although not anyone Steve knew before the war, and there is of course a description of Bucky's tragic death and Steve's subsequent icing.

They are really, really stressing the Man Out Of Time thing here:

No other man could have survived so fantastic a voyage through time. And no other man could feel so displaced by time.

He was a man twenty years in his own future. By rights, he should be nearly fifty years old -- nearly twice the age of his fellow Avengers. Yet his mind and his body were not yet thirty.

When the Avengers had brought him back to New York with them and insisted that, as an honored hero of the past, he join them, he felt a sort of melancholy homesickness for his own time and world.

We then get a few paragraphs with the usual being sad that he let Bucky down and got him killed, and also that he misses his family, and that Steve Rogers doesn't exist anymore, and that nobody is alive who remembers him, and that war is hell.

Hey, Steve, maybe the drugs you should do are antidepressants. Just a thought.

Also, this book is 118 pages and we're not out of the origin story flashback until page 34. I think there are some pacing issues here.

Actually, I lied, the flashback keeps going, but now we're up to the Avengers finding him, and I have to say that the list of things Steve finds strange about the future is kind of charming when the future is 1968. Men have long hair! Women have shorter skirts! Everyone is kind of blasé about rocket launches because there have been so many space missions now. (Oh, come on, you haven't even landed on the moon yet, 1968! You're not that blasé.) Color TV! And, excitingly, LPs! You can now listen to 36 minutes of consecutive music. (I actually don't know what previous standard he's describing that is a ten-inch record that holds six minutes a side because I don't think 45s are that big. Yeah, no, I just checked and 45s are seven inches in diameter. Hmm. Oh, never mind. He means 78 rpm, doesn't he? In my defense, the record player my family had when I was a kid didn't play those.)

The description of Steve coming into New York for the first time is definitely written by someone who knows New York, which is fun. There is generally a lot of local flavor to the setting of this book. That’s one of the best parts.

There is a brief summary of Steve's feelings about all the Avengers -- he is most impressed by Thor, which, I mean, fair, he's an actual god -- and Hank telling him all about how he can live in Tony's mansion. With Jarvis. Who Hank says is actually from Flatbush. Apparently Steve spent a lot of time at the NYPL branch at 5th and 42nd trying to catch up on history. And then of course the Avengers ditched him and gave him the Kooky Quartet, and for some reason they're not here right now either so it's just Steve being sad and alone and dealing with this mysterious dead guy. I think probably the book is also done explaining fiat currency now. This is definitely the weirdest Marvel novel I've read.

Anyway, we have now returned to what is ostensibly the actual plot. Steve shows up at the New York Federal Reserve Bank (I guess the theft is happening here and not, like, at Fort Knox) with the gold bullion that the dead guy from the beginning of the book had on him -- I think I got distracted by the LSD bit and forgot to mention that part, but the dead guy was carrying some US government gold -- because the actual plot is that villains are trying to tunnel into the bank vault and steal gold. Steve discovers this after he gets the bank manager to give him a tour. The bank manager tries to refuse, citing security concerns -- Captain America could be anyone under that mask, after all! Steve just smiles and says, "If I removed my mask, would you have any better idea of who I am?" and I guess that's a flawless argument because he gets his tour.

(I'm sorry, all I can think of is that one gif from the JLA cartoon where Lex Luthor bodyswaps with the Flash, announces that now that he's in the Flash's body he's going to discover the Flash's secret identity, then pulls off his own mask, stares at himself in the mirror, and says, "I have no idea who this is.")

Given that the theme of Steve's interior life in this novel is "Steve Rogers died twenty years ago" it seems even more sad that Steve is just walking around basically saying, yeah, well, I'm nobody. And apparently that is being reaffirmed for him by the narrative.

So Steve goes down the tunnels, takes out some of the bad guys, and gets himself knocked out and buried in a collapsing tunnel. Don't worry, he's gonna be fine.

A lot of this book, by the way, is from the POV of random people, like this bank guard who went with Steve into the tunnels:

He had wondered, briefly, if a man like Captain America ever knew the pinch of too many bills, had ever felt desperate over the arrival of yet another mouth to feed. But, of course, Captain America had no family, and would hardly concern himself with such matters. It didn't occur to Thompson to wonder if this in itself might not be something for which to pity Captain America.

Rude. I mean, come on, do we really need random characters telling us Steve is a sad sack whom nobody loves? Steve's already got that covered! (Also, how does this guy know Captain America has no family?)

Anyway, thanks to the power of LSD, Steve is going into a trance, amping up his metabolism (he loses "several pounds" in a few minutes), and making himself super-strong so he can dig himself out. Hooray. This is definitely how human bodies work. Also LSD. This is definitely how LSD works. Yes.

Steve then finds out that a couple of the guards who were with him in the tunnels died down there and he goes home and eats dinner while stewing in miserable guilt because he was responsible for their deaths. He's really not okay. I'm not sure the book actually understands how not okay they have made him. Then someone from SHIELD is on the phone for him and he is briefly cheered up by the thought that it might be Sharon although I think we should also note that the narrative makes it clear that at this point in canon Steve still doesn't know her name. Remember when that was a thing?

Alas, it is not Sharon; it's just a random SHIELD agent who happens to have information about the plot and asks to meet. Then, as Steve leaves to go to the meeting, we get two pages of exhaustive description about the mansion layout and how it's built relative to the surrounding buildings. It feels like this book was written by a frustrated city planner. But anyway, the meeting is a setup and the villains capture Steve.

They knock Steve out, drug him, take him to their hideout, and tie him to a chair. Except, once again thanks to the power of LSD, the tranquilizer they're using wears off way sooner than they expected and so Steve feigns unconsciousness and listens to them discuss their evil plans.

And then the villains unmask him and I swear it's exactly like that JLA gif:

Rogers heard footsteps scuffing across a thick carpet, and then Sparrow's voice again, almost directly over him. His ears still buzzed, but he fought to catch the elusive familiarity of the man's tone. He wished he dared open his eyes.

"This is a moment which I, personally, have long awaited," Sparrow said, his voice rising in triumph. "*The unmasking of Captain America!*"

Then, his nails scraping along Rogers' face, Sparrow dug his fingers under his cowl, and ripped it back. Rogers felt air strike his exposed cheeks and forehead. Then fingers clutched his blond hair and pulled his head back. "Behold!" Sparrow said.

Raven was first to speak. "Well, I dunno about you, Sparrow, but it rings no bells with me. I never seen him before."

Starling agreed. "His face means nothing to me."

"He could be anybody," said Robin. "What good does this do?"

Sparrow let Rogers' head fall back to his chest, and his voice when he spoke was defeated. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I always wondered. I felt, if these guys -- these costumed heroes -- wore masks, it must mean something."

"Captain America was missing for twenty years," Starling said. "That could mean the first one died, and this one took his place. He looks awfully young."

"Perhaps. It doesn't really matter. Let's get going."

(Yes, the villains all have bird-themed codenames. I have no idea why.)

This scene just makes my day. I love dramatic unmaskings. I bet they'd have been a lot happier unmasking Iron Man.

The villains then leave Steve and go to a power plant, where we switch POVs to one of the plant employees and get two entirely unnecessary paragraphs about his racist and anti-Semitic thoughts about his coworkers before the villains murder him. Great. Thanks.

Anyway, the villains cause a blackout, while meanwhile they've left Steve alone with the girl villain, and Steve is busy trying to persuade her that crime doesn't pay. He's moved from the "do you know what they'll do to you in prison?" theme onto "how exactly are you going to spend a billion dollars in gold bullion when it's illegal for civilians to possess? who are you going to do business with?" and then points out that gold is heavy and hard to transport, which is when she gets out a a knife.

The bad guys are off to steal the gold, and Steve has now successfully turned the girl they left him with, because she frees him. Of course, the first thing he does is put the cowl back on.

"Why do you wear that?" she asked.

"The mask?" He smiled. "It gives people something external to concentrate upon."

"But..."

"Without it, I'm just another ordinary-looking man. With it, I become a symbol. For some people it creates awe; for others, fear. Look at me. I'm different now, aren't I? With the mask on."

"Yes," she nodded. "You look -- bigger, somehow. Stronger. Fierce, implacable. You look a little scary."

"Exactly. You no longer see me as a person, but as a thing -- an Avenger. It can be a potent psychological weapon."

"They were so disappointed, when they took your mask off. As though underneath they'd find a famous person."

"Maybe that goes on TV -- handsome playboys, and all that. But I've been anonymous all my life. Even my real name would be meaningless to you, to them. No, the mask is part of the uniform, a psychological device. That's the whole story.

Now: let's get out of here. You have a good deal more to tell me yet, and we can't waste more time."

Bwahaha. In a few years, Steve's going to be pretty surprised about who superheroes are, I think.

STEVE, now: Superheroes definitely aren't secretly handsome playboys! That would be silly! STEVE, after Molecule Man: fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK I'm such an idiot

I'm definitely looking forward to that.

Also, not that the issue of Steve's psyche actually recurs after this, but he's once again having the narrative vindicate his belief that Steve Rogers is dead and whoever he is under the cowl doesn't matter. Steve, I don't think this is very healthy.

Steve then tracks down the villains stealing the gold, has some geopolitical thoughts about where the gold could be going (he thinks either South Africa or Russia for the best laundering potential) and then hides himself in the villains' trunk while they drive to Staten Island, which is where they're taking the gold out of the country from.

During the final confrontation, Steve finally gets to see the villains, and he discovers that the one in charge is in fact the director of the Federal Reserve Bank who Steve met at the beginning of this book. Gasp. But that's not all! He's also... the Red Skull!

Honestly, I was kind of surprised; I didn't think this was the kind of book where we'd get any known comic villains, but I guess it's always gotta be the Red Skull. I think he's the only one of Steve's big villains who likes to disguise himself; Zemo has obvious disguise issues and I imagine it's also hard to cover up Zola's Teletubby-esque television body.

Steve shoots one of the villains, because I guess that's what he does in this era of canon.

So the plot wraps up in, like, two pages, because for some reason all these early Marvel novels wrap up very fast. Red Skull, of course, attempts to escape and then disappears and his body is never found. The end.

Well.

That was definitely a book. That I read. Believe it or not, I actually think it was the best of these early Marvel prose novels that I've read so far, even if it was also the absolute weirdest; I thought the thriller-style plot was entertaining, I liked Steve and his Extremely Sad characterization, I obviously enjoy all the identity themes, I liked how very detailed the New York setting was, and I do like how they tried to treat it all seriously. I mean, sure, this did lead to LSD in the super-soldier serum in presumably the name of realism, but I felt like the book was trying to present superheroes in a way that didn't feel silly and also didn't really take for granted that the reader would automatically accept superheroes.

It felt like a book that was written hoping that people who weren't superhero fans would read it, if that makes any sense. And I thought that was interesting, because most modern superhero work that I can think of assumes they've got complete audience buy-in and everyone is willing to suspend their disbelief and we all know the genre conventions and are expecting people running around in brightly-colored spandex. Whereas this is more like a James Bond novel if for some reason James Bond were called upon to defend his decision to wear brightly-colored spandex instead of bespoke suits. But I assume no one read it, because Bantam never published a Marvel book after this one.

If you can actually find a copy of this one for a price you're willing to pay. I recommend it. It was delightful and way more solid than I thought it was going to be.

Also, come on, you know you want to read about Captain America's acid trip.

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bleedingvengnce · 4 years

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Life’s More Fun When You’re High | JJ Maybank

Summary: You’re a Kook wanting to see what it’s like to break the rules, and JJ knows exactly how to do that.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, and smut;)

A/N: I miss smoking, and oh god, what I would give to get high with JJ, holy shit.

Growing up in the Figure Eight, you were taught to be the prissy posh girl every Kook is supposed to be. Dress nice, use intelligent vocabulary, achieve the highest grades, don’t get into trouble, and especially don’t get involved with Pogues. You were pristine, pure, innocent. Your life was filled with your studies, volleyball practice directly afterwards, time spent with family, organizing volunteering projects, boating, and very little else. It was boring. Or, a better word, mundane. Your daily routine held nothing new, nothing excited, and you craved more. You craved adrenaline, exhilaration, and most of all, you were just desperate for your life to be different. To be anything than the girl you are, in the average family of yours, in the dull place you lived. To be a Pogue.

Each and ever person you knew in the Figure Eight despised those who lived in the Cut. They were looked down upon, as though their lives meant less than the Kooks. You were born hating them. But you, you didn’t hate them because they were below you, but you despised the freedoms they held. Oh the fun they have. They broke the rules so much, it was as though they don’t have any to begin with. And maybe they don’t. Maybe they do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Oh god, how much you wanted that. What you would do to be able to experience Pogue life just once.

Well, what you would do is seek out a Pogue to help you with your wants and desires. And that Pogue was JJ Maybank. Honestly, you don’t know why your choice was JJ. You could’ve picked from the sweet John B, who worked for your close friends the Cameron’s, the intelligent Pope who once tutored you ages ago, or literally any other Pogue that existed. Maybe it was because he was the most reckless of them all. Or maybe it was because you held a massive school girl crush on the blonde haired boy since the first time your eyes laid upon him.

So, after miraculously getting his phone number from asking around, you rung him up, putting on the sweetest voice you could muster as you practically begged for him to scoop you up from your perfect little life and take you to the Cut, to a place where you could finally experience life. He was, shocked, to say the least, not expecting to hear the Kook princess on the other end asking for him to pick her up from her pretty Kook house. But, he did. He didn’t know why. He loathed the Kooks, and everything about them. He hated their privileged attitudes, their clean cut clothes, and the money that each and everyone of them seemed to be swimming in. He wanted nothing to do with any of them, so why was he so eager to hop in the Pogue van and venture to that side of the island. Maybe it was the massive school boy crush on the beautiful girl since the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your phone chimed harshly, echoing throughout your barren room, the screen alit against the pressing darkness.

‘Here’ Was splayed across the luminescent screen.

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze now cast towards the window in you room, wide and agape, calling for you to leap out of it, and into the arms of freedom. You could see the sickly moon hanging lazily in the inky sky, signaling the late hours of the night. You didn’t want to have to deal with an interrogation from you parents as to where you were going, what were you doing, who were you going with, and much more. You just wanted to escape easily and effortlessly into the welcoming night air. And so you did.

“You can do this, Y/N,” You whispered, reassuring yourself as you approached the window, hands placed on the window sill as your head dove out and into the breezy, open air.

Here goes nothing. And then, you leaped out of it, bare feet hitting the dirt covered ground. In this moment, you were thankful for living on the first floor of your enormous house. You turned away from the comforting clutches of your home, trekking to JJ’s vehicle that hummed mechanically nearby. It was a worn down rusted metal van. You could see the familiar glint of blonde hair through the window as you padded closer, hand wrapping around the door handle to swing it open.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” The boy questioned, not even letting you get situated inside before he began berating you.

“I had to make sure everyone asleep first,” You retorted, pulling the seatbelt across your body as you relaxed into the cloth covered seat.

You could see the boy placed in the drivers seat shake his head slightly as the van lurched forward, sputtering along the road now. You tucked your trembling hands under neath your thighs, an awkward silence hovering over the two of you.

“So, where are we going?” You attempted to cut the heavy tension, gaze fluttering to the soundless boy beside you.

“Somewhere,” Was all he uttered out vaguely, his eyes focused on the dim road.

“Ok... What are we going to do?” You didn’t like the unpleasant quiet, preferring to just interrogate the poor boy instead.

“Well you’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” JJ peered over at you briefly, taking in your figure.

You were adorned in unusual attire, clad in an oversized graphic tee and heather grey soffe shorts underneath, contrasting your usual well ironed and expensive clothes. You were a Pogue tonight, so you decided it would best if you looked the part as well. JJ adored this very of you much more than your normal Kook garments.

“We’re here,” His words shook you from your thoughts, noting the abandoned lot the van was now placed in, your eyes gazing out upon the rolling dunes that caressed the vision of the ocean.

“So, what is it exactly that we are going to do here?” You cocked your head as you turned your stare towards him, wondering what he had in store for the two of you.

“Hop in the back and you’ll find out.” He gestured towards the back of the van, motioning for you to scale the middle console into the open space.

“Ladies first, go on.” He attempted to hurry you along, you looking at him incredulously before uttering an annoyed, ‘fine’.

You clumsily leaned over the console, hauling yourself over it with not a single ounce of grace as you tumbled onto the floor of the back of the van. JJ couldn’t help the gaze that was glued to your ass thrown in his face as you climbed into the back. After you finally situated yourself on the floor, JJ managed getting into the back with ease, making your face flush with embarrassment at how klutzy you appeared to be.

“Since you left me in ramblings on the phone, you are going to have to go with what I prepared, alright?” JJ sat criss cross apple sauce on a tossed out blanket he must’ve previously placed down for the two of you.

“Ok.” You lifted your shoulders in a small shrug, not knowing what you were agreeing to in that moment but being completely open to the experience you were about to receive from this beautiful blonde boy.

“Good,” He nodded, snatching out a small metal contained from behind him.

He cracked it open, pulling out a couple glass looking devices, a couple pre-rolled cigarettes of sorts, and lastly to be set in front of you was a plastic bag with green vegetation captured inside.

“Weed?” You squeaked out at the sight of the illicit drug placed between the two of you.

“Yes, Y/N. Weed.” He confirmed.

“I was more thinking something like a shot of alcohol, or something, not illegal drugs!” You could barely bring yourself to say the word, gulping at the sight of it before you, only ever seeing it in pictures.

“Oh, relax. Weed isn’t like hard drugs like coke or molly. It’s basically legalized in the U.S. Plus, life is so much more fun when you’re high.” He tossed a wink in your direction, trying to ease some of the anxiety you’re holding with a joke.

After a moment of consideration, you tilted your head down in a nod, convincing yourself that this is exactly what you wanted. To break the rules and have fun.

“Ok, ok, fine. So, what is all of this.” Your eyes flickered through each thing sat in front of you.

“Well, I’m going to give you a crash course in all things weed, which is my favorite topic of all, other than surfing of course. So this,” he grabbed at the bag, “is obviously weed. There are two strains of weed, Indica and Sativa. Indica is more of a relaxing high while Sativa is more energizing and can produce anxious and bad highs. So what I have is Indica because that’s my personal preference.” He shrugs, tossing the plastic bag to the floor before snatching up the glass things.

“These are pieces I have for smoking. You grind up the weed and place them in this little pocket, light it with a lighter, and inhale. All I have are a pipe and bowl, not a whole lot else with the money I make.” He set the delicate glass pieces down on the floor before picking up the final thing.

“And this is a joint, which is different from a blunt. Blunts are usually rolled with tobacco and use cigar or cigarillo papers to wrap them. I don’t like anything to do with tobacco, that’s why I roll joints and use this really nice rice paper from my dealer to roll them with. These are prime.” He winks, hoping he isn’t overloading your innocent brain with information.

“Obviously, there are more ways to get high off of weed. Edibles, bongs, even masks, which I won’t overwhelm you with today.” He grins, proud of himself at the way he is so intelligent in one area of his life that he can teach someone else, that someone being you.

“Tonight, we will keep it simple with the joints. Just like a cigarette, light the end,” He flicked open his sliver lighter, a flame emanating off of the top as he flicked it to life, “Then you inhale through the joint. Next is the most important part. You need to inhale an extra breath of air after you pull the joint away, ok? Or else you won’t get the smoke into your lungs and you won’t get high. Just watch me.”

JJ brought the alit flame to the end of the joint, it hanging loosely from his bottom lip. The little flame licked around the paper, alighting it in small embers. You could tell when JJ inhaled a gulp of the drug filled smoke, watching the embers at the end illuminate. He then pulled the joint away from his mouth, inhaling a tiny extra breath, holding the smoke contained in his lungs momentary, before exhaling. The tendrils of smoke floated heavily in the air around them, the smell pungent in your nostrils.

“Alright, princess, it’s your turn.” The little cylinder was held in your direction, the petite thing seeming so monstrous in your eyes.

You carefully pinched the joint between the tips of your fingers, as though it would harm you if you weren’t cautious with it. You swallowed down a shaky breath, desperately attempting to settle your stumbling heart. You held it up to your lips, setting it in your mouth. Your gaze was down cast on the drug filled cigarette and intently watching the smoldering end of the joint illuminate as you sucked in. You felt the smoke spilling down your throat, wrapping around in your lungs while it burned uncomfortably. You attempted to sip another breath of the musty air, but the scorching fumes from the drug stung your throat causing you to let out a string of painful coughs. You could hear JJ chuckling at your hacking figure, tears threatening to escape from your lids at the burning sensation in your lungs. You sputtered out, JJ placing a plastic water bottle in your hands to soothe your tender throat. The cold water aided in subsided in the burn, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you looked at the giggling boy.

“That wasn’t funny,” You rasped, “Why didn’t you tell me it would burn like that?” You gave the joint back to him, glowering in his direction.

“It was pretty funny, just relax, Y/N. Enjoy the high.” He hushed, taking another lengthy drag.

You went back and forth a couple of times, still being tossed back into a fit of wheezing and coughing, but enjoying the way the world began to be enveloped in a lulling haze. You didn’t realize it at first, but your eye lids began weighing heavily, feeling your tensed shoulders fall. Though, you couldn’t help but notice the way your muscles uncomfortably seized up. Your thighs involuntarily twitched repeatedly, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“JJ, why am I twitching?” You cocked your head to the side as you eyed the handsome boy in front of you.

“I dunno, happens sometimes. I used to get the shakes all of the time when I first started smoking.” His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

You felt your head roll back, enjoying the tranquility flooding your system, the rate of your heart steadily slowing as you inhaled a deep breath of the mildew and weed hanging heavily in the air of the van.

“Being high does feel nice.” You hummed with a grin, eyes closed as you swayed slightly, relishing in the peaceful feeling at the weed tangling through your bloodstream.

“I told you.” JJ laughed, uncontrollable giggles escaping the two of you at the nonsensical situation the two of you were placed in.

A Kook and a Pogue, getting high as a kite in the back of an old van. Who would’ve thought.

“Is it weird that I’ve never gotten high before?” You pondered absent-mindedly, attempting not to peer over at JJ too often for him to notice your bizarre stares.

“Kinda, yeah. What else have you not done before?” He lazily turned his head to the side, flickering the flame from his lighter.

“Haven’t drank. I don’t even think I’ve ever had a sip of my parents drinks before.” A chuckle sputtered out of your mouth at how ridiculous that sounded actually being uttered.

“Holy shit. Have you even been to a party before?” He was adjusting himself to sit up straight, gazing at you intently for a response.

You shook your head, unable to look into the surprised eyes of the boy at how innocent you were. Though, the usual crimson heat would be rushing onto your cheeks in embarrassment at the questions, the high was muddling your mind. It let the interrogation roll off your shoulders as though it wasn’t as important or as humiliating as you usually look at your boring life.

“I’ve literally done nothing before, JJ. My life is so ungodly dull. I almost went insane at how boring it is. That’s why I asked this of you.” You confessed openly, the high loosening your usually tight lips.

“Wow, I’m glad I’m the one to make you lose your weed virginity then.” A grin spread across his pretty lips, your eyes glued to them unintentionally.

JJ definitely noticed.

“Have you...” He trailed off, his gaze trickling down and away from your eyes, the words struggling on the tip of his tongue.

“Have I?” You dragged out, motioning for him to continue.

“Have you ever had sex before?” This time he spoke with more confidence in his words, his stare returning to intimidatingly hold yours as he struck your most coveted secret about yourself.

“No...” Your tongue darted out to flicker over your lips, eyes unmoving from his piercing blue ones.

JJ tilted his head down in a leisurely nod, as though he was mulling over his pooling thoughts after your bold response. The haze that hung over your mind began to clear, your skin noticing the nearness of how close the two of you sat in your criss cross positions, knees practically grazing against one another’s.

“Have you ever had an orgasm before?” He almost looked concerned at just the thought of you never being plunged into that world of pleasure before.

“Never. I, uh, I’ve never really touched myself down there.” Your words were shaky as he studied you.

“Would you let me?” A storm of lust was clouding his baby blue eyes, his gaze becoming hungry at the thought of him being the first one to touch you in that way.

Your mouth ran dry at his words, but you didn’t even need to mull over the offer, instantly coming to your decision.

“Yes,” You breathed, chest rising and falling in wracked breaths.

His hand cautiously lifted from the confines of his lap, calloused finger tips brushing gently over your thigh. You caught your bottom lips between your teeth at the feeling of a man touching you for the first time. Your gaze fluttered between his cobalt irises and his delicious lips you craved to have pressed against your own. He gratefully took the hint, leaning his body forward towards yours. You felt his warm breath fanning across your face, his lips feeling miles apart, but also being closer than any person’s before. Your body and mind were engulfed by his delicious scent that surrounded him, a musk of marijuana and salty ocean. You tilted your head up, trying to close the gaping distance between the two of you, but he pulled back, a smirk quirking on the edges of his lips as he teased you.

“Jay...” You sighed, yearning for him.

He didn’t to hear anything more, tilting his head down as he delicately placed his plush lips upon your own. You felt your world crack open, as though your mundane life crumbled around you, tumbling away to live you unconfined, liberated, and new. The kiss was light, fleeting, a passing moment that you were desperate to capture forever. You never wanted it to end. So, you didn’t allow it to, pressing your lips harder against his as your head tipped to the side. You brought a hand up, fingers entangling in his mussed golden locks, tugging softly on it. JJ gingerly dipped his tongue into your mouth, sweeping around inside to memorize the taste of you, your tongues colliding together in a messier kiss. The kiss was progressively becoming more passionate, his hands that were previously cupping your face moving down to rest on your hips. The boy leaned your body back, the two of you now laying along the floor of the van, JJ hovering his body over you as your lips never parted.

You could feel the tips of JJ’s fingers skim along your now exposed flesh below the hem of your shirt, and you melted at his electrifying touch. Goosebumps skittered against your skin in the wake of his touch, and you exhaled a breathy moan into the kiss. You could feel him grip the bottom of your shirt as he pulled away from the mind muddling kiss.

“Can I take this off?” His parted lips were swollen after the intensity of the kiss, looking down at you with lust and desperation.

“Yes, please.” You allowed, holding your hands over your head to aid him in discarding the fabric.

You were plunged into the moment, but still were anxious at the boy seeing your exposed skin. You bra soon followed your shirt as JJ tossed it behind him. Your hands that were running along his body flew to cover your chest, a rosy pinks dusting your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Don’t do that. Let me see you, princess.” That stupid nickname rolled off his tongue as he eased your hands back to your sides, revealing your hardened nipples standing at attention for him and only him.

“Oh baby, you’re so beautiful.” He hummed, a hand reaching up to gently cup one of your breasts, thumb flickering over your nipple.

The gesture sent shivers of pleasure down to your core, feeling a wetness slowly soaking your underwear. You couldn’t help the gasps tumbling from your lips as he delicately pinched and flicked at your nipples, his eyes looking on in awe at how responsive you were becoming at the simplest of touches.

“How does that feel, princess?” He arched a brow as he gazed upon your squirming figure, twisting a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“R-really good,” You stumbled over your words, intently watching his skilled fingers on your breasts.

“Good. But I bet I can make you feel even better.” He shot you a playful wink as his fingers danced their way down your abdomen, anticipation tormenting your body.

He began to trace along the waistband of your shorts, teasing your skin with delicate and pleasurable touches. He pressed a small kiss to your knee as he settled himself between your legs. The next thing to go were your shorts and underwear, leaving your bare and naked before him, your skin exposed for him to drink in your beautiful figure.

“Fuck,” He muttered, eyes glued to your dripping center.

You were anxious, laying there for his viewing and touching pleasure. Your pussy was open for him to admire, and you were scared that he would be repulsed by it as you were, not knowing the depths of what it held and how much pleasure could come from it. JJ, on the other hand, craved to devour you, hunger pooling in his irises. He wanted to please you, to show you how good, no, how amazing it feels to be touched on your most delicate of places.

“Is this ok?” His voice was soft, a sweetness threading through it as he looked for your permission before he went further with anything.

He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what he was doing, what he was toughing on your untouched body. But you didn’t care, your caution being tossed carelessly to the wind as you eagerly nodded. With your nod, he began pressing tiny pecks against the inside of your thighs, hands pressing them against the floor of the van to keep you in place. You were beyond desperate, the sparks from the kisses shooting straight to your core, moans tumbling past your lips. He mouthed his way up your flesh, passing directly over where you were throbbing for him.

“JJ, please.” You pleaded with the boy as the tiny kisses continued to ensue, your pussy dripping, wanting for him to touch more than just your thighs.

“Please what, princess?” He breathed against your thigh, his eyes capturing your own as you stared down at him.

“Please do something!” You were becoming increasingly frustrated with his ministrations, wanting his mouth elsewhere.

“Something like me touching your pussy? Like my fingers inside of you? Like my mouth on you? Is that what you want?” He spilled out every single thought your mind was thinking, wanting all of what he said and more.

“That’s exactly what I want, J.” You rushed out, begging for him to do exactly as he promised.

And that he did. You felt his finger, for the first time, drag through your slit, catching on a sensitive part of yourself down there. You flinched, hips twitching in the air at the tingling sensation dancing through your body at the touch. You watched as a smirk formed on the boys’ lips in satisfaction at your response, his finger repeating the motion, this time focusing on that overly sensitive nub, rubbing on it lightly. He more than enjoyed watching you fall apart beneath the most simple touch. He loved that he was the first one exploring your body like this. He wanted to do this over and over again, but right now, he had to focus in pleasuring you now. Small figure eights were being traced on the pleasurable button, moans and cries spilling from your mouth as you watched on in awe.

“Damn baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He practically growled out, his finger circling your hole before slowly, gently, carefully pressing the digit within you.

You stretched around him, graciously taking him inside of you as he leaned his head forward to add more than just his finger. His tongue swiped between your pussy lips, the tip of it focusing on that electrifying part of you that caused your back to arch and your eyes to roll into the back of your head. His lips wrapped around it, carefully sucking on it as his fingers crooked upwards, hitting a spot that made your mind tumble into numbness and a small scream to escape you. The pleasure was almost unbearable. He continued, fingers picking up speed inside of you, constantly brushing against that spot within you. Your face was creased, mouth agape in an extended groan. Your fingers found their way back into his hair, harshly pulling on it as he lapped at your dripping cunt.

“You taste so delicious, princess. You’re doing so good for me.” He hummed against your core.

You were a complete and utter mess, grinding your face against his mouth, chasing a high you didn’t know what it would lead to. You’ve never tumbled over the edge before, never even coming close to it, but JJ was shoving you there, fingers ramming into you and mouth harshly sucking on your clit.

“Come on baby, I know your close, cum for me.” He ordered for you to do so before returning to his previous spot.

His words and ministrations shoved you over the edge, reaching a screaming climax as his fingers let your ride out your high. Your chest heaved, legs twitching slightly as his tongue still sloppily traced around your clit. You were practically seeing stars at the overly intense pleasure he just caused, your pussy and clit overly sensitive, you had to push the boys’ head away.

“How was that, princess?” He questioned with his puffy and swollen lips.

“So good.” You breathed, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he gathered you into his arms, allowing you to come down from your world crumbling orgasm he just gave you.

“I’m glad. I want to always make you feel like that.” His words caused your breathing to halt, the confession making your heart stumble over itself and butterflies to brush along your stomach.

“Really?” You gazed at him as his hands clutched at you tighter.

“Yes, and I want to do more than that. More than get you high and do what we just did. I want to take you out.” He attempted to come across as the confident and cocky JJ he normally appeared to be, but right now, nerves racked his body.

“I would love to go out with you JJ, even if you are a Pogue.” You giggled lightly, causing him to roll his eyes in response before he captured you in another knee weakening kiss.

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sfb123 · 4 years

Text

Sapere Aude - Part 7

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,670

Notes: Sorry. I’ve been on a pretty good once a week schedule, but this one is a little more delayed. I had a lot going on this week, so I didn’t have a chance to get it up. But here it is, I hope you find it worth the wait!

Shout out to my pre-reading possy, @texaskitten30 and @txemrn, and @twinkleallnight for my moodboard!

Tags: Do tags even actually do anything anymore? Who knows, but in case they do, they’re added below and also in the comments. Maybe that will help at least a couple of you get them. If you want to be added or removed, just let me know.

Riley paced back and forth in her bedroom, mind reeling from her meeting with Eleanor. It was bad enough that she was going to have to tell Liam that his mother was alive, but now she would have to tell him that the guard they were trusting with their daughter’s life was actually his brother. She was certain, no matter how stoic and level headed her husband was, this news was going to break him. Riley would just need to make sure that he kept his cool outside of the sanctuary of their quarters.

Her train of thought was broken when she heard a knocking at her door. “Come in.” She smiled as Drake entered the room. “Hey, when you left you had my kid with you. Don’t tell me you left her out in the woods to fend for herself a la some weird Walker wilderness test.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Very funny. She fell asleep on the way back, so I just dropped her off in her room. I wanted to come in and see how things went with you.”

She sighed and sat on the bench at the end of her bed, patting the empty seat next to her. “You’re going to want to sit down for this one, big guy.” Drake had known Liam his whole life, maybe he could help her figure out the best way to tell him about his mother, and now brother. But she had to tell him about his father first. “I learned a lot more in this meeting, and literally none of it was good.”

He put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Ok, do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you come up with the best way to tell Liam.”

“Well yea, I’m going to need a lot of help with that, like a lot a lot of help, but there’s something you need to know too.”

She looked up at him with so much sadness in her eyes that Drake felt overwhelmed. He pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, it’s ok Brooks, whatever it is, I can take it. Just let me have it.”

“Your dad was one of them, he was working with Eleanor. They were partners.” Her voice was muffled against Drake’s chest, but he was able to hear every word she said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to be there for his friend right now, but this was also a huge blow to everything he had ever known or believed about his father.

“Wait, he was working against Constantine?” He pulled out of the hug and rubbed his hand over his face, letting the information fully sink in. “But he was his lead guard, he saved his life. More than once.”

“I know. He wasn’t technically against Constantnine, and I guess technically he did die protecting him.”

“What do you mean?” There was a hopeful sadness in Drake’s voice.

“Well, Eleanor said that your dad didn’t agree with the plans to overthrow Constantine, so the assasination attempt that took his life was actually meant for him.” Riley was so upset that she didn’t even realize what she had said.

Drake didn’t catch it at first either, still trying to process the information about his dad, but once it hit him, he looked over to Riley, utterly confused. “Wait, who said that? Eleanor who?”

Riley’s eyes immediately fell to the floor. “Yea...that’s kind of one of the other things. The meeting I had today was with Eleanor, Liam’s mother. She didn’t actually die, she went into hiding.” The tears she had been holding back all day finally started to flow.

“Holy shit Brooks, way to bury the lead. Liam’s mother is alive? You met with her? She was here?”

“She’s...she’s in charge of the Via Imperii in Cordonia. What the hell am I supposed to tell Liam? This is going to kill him.” Riley began sobbing into her hands.

“Hey, shh shh shh, come here.” He pulled Riley back into his arms, gently stroking her back. “This is major. It’s going to be a big blow for Liam, but he has you to help him get through it. You guys have been through hell and back, you’ll get through this too.”

They stayed like that for a while, Riley needed to get all of her emotions out. Drake knew this, and just stayed there to be the comforting friend that she needed in that moment. He had to come to terms with his dad, and he would, but the news he got was nothing compared to the devastation his best friend, his brother, was about to receive.

Riley was able to finally calm herself down. She pulled away from Drake, wiping the lingering tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean to break down on you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Brooks. You needed to get it out. You need to empty the tank before you bring this to Liam…”

“There’s more.” She interrupted him.

“I’m afraid to ask, but we’ve already come this far.”

“Remember when I was pregnant, and we found out all that information about Eleanor, and how she was pregnant when she…” Riley trailed off.

“Fuck. That’s right. Liam has a sibling out there somewhere.” Drake ran his hand through his hair.

“Not somewhere. In the palace, guarding Eleanor.”

“Thomas?” Drake and Thomas were friendly, Drake was friendly with most of the guards. He couldn’t believe that this whole time, he had been talking to Liam’s brother. “Does he know that he’s...that he and Liam are brothers?”

Riley nodded. “He does. Eleanor said that when he learned that he was a Rys, he wanted to be close to his family, and do what he could to keep them safe. That’s how he ended up assigned to the King’s Guard.”

Drake stood and walked over to the fireplace, watching the flames dance as he shook his head. “This is unbelievable. His mother is alive, and he’s had another brother this whole time.” As he came to another realization, he snapped his head back to look at Riley. “Is Thomas his full brother? Like Constantine is his dad too?”

Riley nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Full brother. Constantine had three sons.”

“That means he’s a Prince too. What if he tries to get Liam out to put himself in place?”

“That can’t happen. Eleanor, my Eleanor, is the heir. Liam is the reigning King, so his child would be next in line for the throne…” She paused, taking a deep breath, not wanting to put her next thought into the universe, but it needed to be said. “If anything happened to him, Eleanor would be next in line, and as her parent and legal guardian, I would be Queen Regent, so I would rule until she became of age. They’ve already tried, and failed, to take her away from us once. I don’t think they would do that again.”

“Right, Barthelemy. Jesus, all of our parents sucked. Barthelemy, Eleanor, my dad, Olivia’s parents. Constantine wasn’t exactly in the running for father of the year. You and Hana are the only ones that really lucked out.”

Riley let out a humorless chuckle. “Heh, who would have thought, after everything we’ve gone through, Hana’s overbearing, controlling, parents would have been considered the normal ones.” She walked up to Drake and linked her arm through his. “Drake, your dad was a good guy, he just got caught up with the wrong group. He really did die trying to save the King, just not in the way we thought he did.”

“Yea, I guess.”

“And you know what?” She grabbed both of his shoulders, turning him to look her in the eyes. “For as shitty as you guys’ parents were, they made some pretty great humans. You, Savannah, Maxwell, Bertrand, Liam, even Leo.” Throwing Leo in there like that got a chuckle out of Drake, which is exactly what she was hoping for. “You guys are some of the most amazing, selfless, caring people I have ever met, and I am truly honored that you all are my family.” She pulled him in for a hug.

“Alright, that was a pretty good pep-talk. But when you give it to Liam, make sure you mention him first.” They both laughed as they separated.

“Thanks for the note. I’ll be sure to punch it up before I talk to him.” She smirked at him. “I should go check on Eleanor. Are you going to be ok?”

“Yea, I’ll be alright. I’m more worried about Liam to be honest. Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”

“No, I think this is something he and I need to handle one on one. But I love the concern. See what I mean, amazing human.” She made finger guns and pointed them at Drake.

“Alright, alright. Well, I was going to head up to Ramsford tomorrow, after we get back. I could take Eleanor with me, she and Bartie could have a slumber party, and you and Liam can have plenty of time to talk.”

“Drake, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve basically spent the whole weekend with her. I’ve already imposed too much.”

“It’s not imposing if I’m offering. I know Liam, he’s going to need time to just deal. He’s not going to be able to do that if you guys have to be in parent mode. It’s no trouble, really.”

Riley was overwhelmed by the generosity of her friend. He had just received news that completely destroyed the image he had of his father, his hero, and his first instinct was to do whatever he could to make things easier for her and Liam. Without saying a word she barreled toward him, the force of her body hitting him knocked him off balance slightly, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Number one best friend of life. No question.”

“Alright slugger, take it down a notch. Go get your kid, I’m going to go back to my room and relax for a bit. Come get me for dinner?”

Riley nodded as they exited her room and took off down different ends of the hallway.

The next day, Riley Drake and Eleanor were in the SUV on their way back to the palace. It had been another sleepless night for Riley, trying to work out exactly what she was going to say to Liam. She came up empty. She was just going to have to wing it. They would have a couple of hours together as a family before Drake brought Eleanor to Ramsford, then she would completely devastate her husband.

“Mommy?” Eleanor spoke up, pulling Riley from her thoughts.

“Yes baby girl?”

“Are you and daddy going to come play with me and Bartie?”

“No Eleanor, not this time. Mommy and daddy have some grown up stuff we need to do.” She reached across the seat and held her daughters hands.

“Ew are you and daddy going to kiss?” Eleanor scrunched up her face, causing Drake to choke on the sip of water he had just taken.

Riley burst out laughing at the comment. “No baby, no kissing.”

“Can I play with daddy first? I miss him!”

“Of course. Uncle Drake is going to go home first, and then he’ll be back to pick you up after dinner.” She kissed Eleanor’s hand.

As they pulled into the palace, Riley’s breath caught in her throat seeing Liam waiting for them in the front. Whenever they spent a night apart, they made it a tradition that whoever got home first would wait for the other out front. This was the first time she had ever hated that tradition. She wished she had a little more time to compose herself before seeing him.

Drake noticed the panic flash across her face and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got this, Brooks. Deep breaths.”

She nodded as the car came to a stop. She took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself as her door opened. Drake worked to unbuckle Eleanor on the other side of the car.

“Riley, my queen. I’ve missed you.”

The tears immediately started to well up in her eyes. “Liam.” She jumped out of the car, and into her husband’s arms. “I love you, I love you so much.”

He held her close, rubbing her back in soothing circles and kissing her on the crown of her head. “I know, Riley. I love you too. It will be ok, we’re together now. Everything is going to be ok.”

“Daddy!” Their reunion was interrupted as Eleanor ran full force into her parents to join their hug.

Liam pulled back, giving Riley a brief kiss and a wink before diverting his attention to his daughter. “Welcome home, princess.” He lifted Eleanor into his arms.

“Uncle Drake took me fishing. I caught the biggest fish!”

“You did? I’m very proud of you.” He kissed her cheek.

“For the record, it was the only fish.” Drake emerged from the other side of the car, sticking his tongue out at Eleanor, she returned the gesture.

“That’s alright, going fishing with Uncle Drake and catching the only fish is still a very big accomplishment.” Liam placed Eleanor back on the ground and extended his other hand out to shake Drake’s. “Thank you for taking care of my girls for me this weekend Drake.”

“For this one,” he signaled down to Eleanor, “anytime. This one,” he nudged Riley, “not so much.”

Riley rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. Liam chuckled, with everything he knew Riley had to endure this weekend, it made him happy to see her joking around, even if it were just for a moment.

“Daddy, Uncle Drake is going to take me with him for a slumber party with Bartie tonight! It’s going to be so much fun!” Eleanor tugged on Liam’s pant leg to get his attention.

He crouched down to meet her face to face. “Really? You just got home and you’re already leaving me again?” He gave her an exaggerated pout, she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing his nose. “I’m sorry daddy, mommy said you had grown up stuff to do. Maybe if you say please, she will let you come with me. I bet it will be more fun than the grown up stuff.”

Riley sighed as Liam turned and faced her. “I’m sorry Liam, I know you haven’t seen her all weekend, but Drake offered to bring her with him to Ramsford. And the stuff we need to catch up on will be a lot easier to go over if it’s just us.” There was a seriousness in her expression, Liam understood that she didn’t mean the usual catching up they did when they had been separated for a few days.

“No, of course.” He turned to Drake. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you? I would like to spend some time catching up with Eleanor before she leaves again.”

“Nah you’ve got time. I’m going to head back to my place, I’ve got a few things for Bartie that I’m going to bring with me. I’ll be by after dinner to pick her up.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. Liam nodded as a silent thank you to his friend.

As Drake walked to his truck, Liam took Eleanor’s hand in his, and wrapped his other arm around Riley. “Alright then, let’s go make up for lost time. Eleanor, I want to hear all about your weekend. Don’t leave a single detail out.”

They walked into the palace and up to their quarters. Liam and Riley were both dreading the conversation that would come later that night, but silently vowed to forget about those feelings, so they could enjoy time as a family.

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara @gabesmommie1130 @cordoniaqueensworld

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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loyalty’s all i got | part one

summary: three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.9k+ i'm legit incapable of writing something short 😅

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings: mentions of child abuse, non-graphic injuries, weed, swearing, underage drinking, learning to be vulnerable, trust issues, first love, jj getting the love and affection he deserves, underage sex (nothing too descriptive but it gets a lil spicy, just fyi), teenage heartbreak, failed long distance relationship, angst with a happy ending, references to some taylor swift songs 'cause she's a queen.

a/n: got a lil plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone so here we are lol. title and inspiration for this fic comes from train's song "rescue dog" that gave me 'jj x reader where they're both damaged goods' vibes the second i heard it. this is semi canon-compliant as the treasure hunt never happened but big john is still alive and kie and sarah still work out their issues and become friends again. i used the names daisy, daniel, deke, and mack as a tribute to agents of shield, one of my favorite shows that had just had its series finale (and i'm still an emotional mess). enjoy and keep an eye out for part two, coming soon!

~masterlist~

part one: when our love was young and easy

For you, having a traveling nurse as a mom was both a blessing and a curse. When you were a kid, you loved bouncing around the country to a new town every so often and finding new places to explore with your rebellious big sister. Back then, she was all you needed to be happy: you'd go anywhere and everywhere as long as Daisy, your best friend, was by your side.

As you both grew older and started school, you slowly realized that packing up your life every few years sucked. Yeah, seeing new places was cool and all but the novelty wore off fast when you found yourself making friends with your classmates, kids who weren't your sister for once, only to lose touch whenever you moved again. You felt like a ghost, haunting a new school for a while and then leaving behind nothing but a memory, one that gradually faded over time until it was gone, as if you never existed at all. You wondered if anyone actually remembered you.

It was hard. You gradually became more sullen and withdrawn, finding it more and more difficult to make friends when you knew they wouldn't last, while Daisy acted out even worse than usual and ended up being grounded almost every week. It took her getting arrested while graffitiing the school gym on New Year's Eve for your father - a bit clueless about being a stay-at-home dad to two girls but he tried his best- to put his foot down and tell his wife enough was enough.

"Our kids need stability, Rebekah. They need a chance to make real friends and stay in one place for longer than two or three years. They need a home."

Thankfully by some miracle, your mother agreed and promised the next move would be the last until you graduated high school. You wanted to believe her so badly but you weren't sure if you could as you packed up your life once again and headed down south from Rhode Island.

That's how you ended up in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, finishing eighth grade at some fancy ass academy that you weren't sure your parents could afford. Daisy, a sophomore, seemed to have no problem fitting in on the north side of the island when she landed a job as a lifeguard at the country club and made fast friends with the rich kids that frequented the pool. It stung a bit when she eventually started ditching you for them (and some older boy named Kelce; you knew she'd snag a boyfriend eventually but you didn't realize it'd be so fast and with someone so...douchey) but you tried not to let it bother you too much, as you were okay getting by on your own and honest-to-God happy for your sister. Making friends was a scary thought when you remembered all the kids you've had to leave behind over the years, all the friendships that crumbled into dust in the wind so you tried to stay at arm's length from your classmates and told yourself you were just fine the way you were.

The loneliness was hard to ignore though, and you soon found yourself slowly, reluctantly becoming friends with a girl named Kiara that sat beside you in algebra after she helped you cram for a test you completely forgot about, even as warning bells rang loud in your mind. It wasn't long before you started sitting with her and her friend Sarah at lunch, which led to being invited to the beach and the movies and sleepovers and just like that, you remembered what friendship felt like. For the first time, you felt like a normal teenager with a best friend that wasn't your sister and although you liked Sarah, Kiara was the one you were closest to, especially when you found out she hated the kook academy as much as you did.

"Fuck it," She said at one of your sleepovers, sitting on the floor at the end of your bed and rifling through your box of movies. "I'm done with acting like something I'm not, I'm done with being fake, and I'm done with rich kid politics." She tossed Legally Blonde in your direction and then joined you in leaning against the headboard as you slipped the DVD into your laptop.

"Yeah, this whole kook thing kind of sucks." You replied, tapping through the previews to the main menu. "That's why I don't give a shit."

"And that's why I'm so happy you're my friend, Y/N," Kiara said. "You're just yourself and don't try to change for anybody. It's cool."

Cursor hovering over the play button, you paused and glanced over at the other girl. "I'm happy you're my friend, too. I...I only really had my sister growing up so just...thanks, I guess. For being here."

Kiara pulled you into a fierce hug after your impromptu confession and you hugged her back, understanding for the first time what true friendship looked like.

More kids get added to your posse -three boys named John B, JJ, and Pope- after a catastrophic falling out with Sarah over her fiasco of a birthday party and from the very first time you met them, you realized the south side of the island was where you belonged. The pogues were unabashedly, unapologetically real and you felt the freest you'd ever been when you were hanging out with them and from the way Kiara seemed so much happier, you knew she felt the same way. Those kooks and their status quo could suck it.

You vowed you wouldn't let yourself get too attached to your new friends (cohorts, as your dad jokingly called them), lest you get your heart broken when your mom inevitably moved on to the next job in a year or two; despite her promise, you just had a feeling that it wouldn't last and wished you weren't always waiting for that other shoe to drop. You didn't plan on them becoming your second family and you definitely didn't plan on falling in love for the first time, but life always found new ways to surprise you.

You were fourteen when you started to notice that one of your friends was cute as fuck. To be honest, you thought all of your friends were pretty cute but there was something about JJ that made you flustered beyond belief every time he crossed your mind. You found yourself more than a little fixated on his golden hair, his bright blue eyes, and the way you always felt at your happiest when he was around; he lived like a wild, out of control hurricane and you wanted to get swept up in the eye of his storm, despite your brain telling you not to.

You never had crushes before, always too busy anticipating worrying about your family's next move to really look at anyone like that but you were definitely looking now while you tried to balance on JJ's surfboard in the gently bobbing waves, your trembling hands planted firmly on his -bare, tan, strong- shoulders as he held it steady.

"Lookin' good, Y/N," He looked up at you with a proud grin before glancing back down at your stance. "Just bend your knees a little more and you'll be perfect."

His praise, along with his calloused palms carefully adjusting your legs made your face feel hot and you shifted on the board to correct your balance, slowly raising your arms until you were standing, albeit a little wobbly, mostly on your own.

"Holy shit!" You yelled, the smile on your face growing more ecstatic at the encouraging cheers of your friends as they watched from the beach twenty feet away. "I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it!"

"Almost," JJ gave you another one of his killer smiles, the ones that you quickly found out made breathing normally quite the challenge, then let go of your knees to give the board a solid push forward. "Now you are!"

Frantically, you recalled everything he taught you that afternoon and managed to make it halfway to shore before you lost your balance and fell into the surf with a giddy laugh. "Guess I need a little more practice," You giggled as he splashed his way over and offered you a hand, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

"Just a little?"

You flicked some water at him for that and your laugh grew when he wrapped you up in his arms and spun you around before flinging you both into the waves. The others immediately ran to join you and an all out war broke out, everyone splashing each other with no holds barred.

When he casually suggested giving you another lesson the next day as you all laid on the sand to catch your breath, you were unable to say no and the soft, dimpled smile on his face made your heart skip a beat in a way you'd never felt before. For the first time, you told the warning bells in your head to just shut the fuck up and allowed yourself to think about the future, to dream about what you could become and where you could be in two, five, even ten years. You let yourself have hope.

The next morning, you put on your favorite bikini -the green high waisted one that made your butt look good- and caught a ride with Daisy and Kelce to the beach, ignoring the teasing looks and jabs your sister sent your way and the sly smirk on her boyfriend's face.

"Hey, Juliet, looks like your Romeo's already waiting for you."

You rolled your eyes and hopped out of Kelce's Range Rover, flipping them both the bird behind your back without a second glance. As they drove away, their laughter followed you to where JJ was indeed waiting by the walkway to the shore, surfboard under his arm, and his face broke out into a wide grin when he laid eyes on you, one that you couldn't help returning.

"Sorry I'm late, my sister was being a bitch."

He laughed at that and reached out to take your hand, sending warm tingles through your whole body. "I was kinda worried you forgot about me, Y/N."

In a sudden burst of courage you didn't know you had, you laced your fingers with his and started pulling him toward the water as you sent him a wink over your shoulder. "I would never."

You started your lesson on the sand, reviewing how to stand up and balance on the board, before moving to the ocean. You catch your first waves on your stomach to get used to the movement and when you get comfortable with that you move to your knees and then your feet; each time JJ was there to catch you when you inevitably bit it, hugging you close to his bare chest and speaking enthusiastic words of encouragement in your ear, and with every passing try you became more and more confident until you finally nailed a small wave from beginning to end without falling on your ass.

"I did it!" In a flash, you jumped off the board and into his arms, your mouth curving into a joyful grin when he spun you in circles like yesterday with your own arms locked tight around his neck.

"Hell yeah you did!" The proud smile on his face made your stomach do a little flip and so did the way he held you close, his hands hooked under your thighs. "You're gonna be a pro in no time."

"Well," You said, twirling your fingers in the fine blond hair at his nape and hoping you didn't just imagine the shiver that ran down his spine. "I do have a great teacher."

His pretty blue eyes locked onto yours and you couldn't look away even if you wanted to (which you absolutely didn't). You'd been reading about moments like that ever since you were a kid, alone in your room with nothing better to do than drown yourself in overly sappy fanfiction until 2 AM, so you knew all about the magnetism, the butterflies, the invisible string tying two lovers together by fate, but it was just a fantasy, a pipe dream, something to yearn for when the loneliness became too much. Never in a million years did you imagine you would ever feel like that.

And yet you did. You felt it in your whole body, coursing through your veins like liquid fire, and when JJ started to lean in, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It wasn't your first kiss -that happened two years ago when you were still living in Rhode Island, during a rare party you actually got invited to and with a pretty girl in your class- but it was the first that set every single one of your nerves alight. He held you tighter against him as your hands moved to cup his face, letting him deepen the kiss with a tilt of his head and the soft swipe of his tongue against your lips. You never thought you'd find yourself in the middle of a make out session in broad daylight and in full view of everyone on the beach but there you were, not giving a single shit about who was watching. All you cared about was memorizing every detail about the way he kissed you, the feel of his mouth on yours and the heat of his palms against your thighs, the rough touch of drying saltwater on his skin under your thumbs and that little noise he made low in his throat when you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. You could've kissed him for hours (holy shit did you want to do that) and never run out of new idiosyncrasies to notice.

You pulled back some glorious time later with a breathless smile and swollen lips, heart racing against your ribcage and forehead pressed to JJ's as he smiled back, an endearing pink flushed across his face.

"I've wanted to do that for a while." His quiet admission made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and you leaned down to kiss him once again, no longer able to deny yourself the happiness you longed for for years now that you'd had a taste; he returned the kiss and you laughed against his mouth as he spun you around before gently setting you on your feet in the surf, his forgotten board -thankfully still tethered to your ankle- bumping into your legs with every wave.

"Me, too."

"Good." He shot you a smile that make you weak in the knees and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, then it was his turn to lean down to press his lips to yours.

After that day, life was practically a dream. You had the greatest friends you could've asked for, your family was the happiest you'd ever seen them, and you had a boyfriend. A loyal, affectionate, chaotic boyfriend who somehow managed to keep you on your toes while being your guiding light all at once and you wondered how you got so lucky that a boy as wonderful as JJ wanted little old you, with all of your insecurities and shattered edges and tendencies to push people away when they got too close.

You told him that one day as you laid together on your bed, sharing lazy kisses in the warm late-summer sun streaming in through your window while Fleetwood Mac played quietly from your phone resting on the nightstand. Fall was in the air and with it came cool breezes and that nagging fear in the back of your mind that screamed none of it would last. It was the first time you cried in front of him -in front of anyone other than your sister- and he held you tight to his chest, hand running soothingly over your back as you let everything out in one massive, embarrassing flood of years of pent-up emotions.

Another thing your boyfriend was good at, you found out, was comfort. He didn't say anything as he hugged you close but he didn't need to, the fact that he was simply there and listening was all you needed from him. You spent your whole life living in the shadows until then, when he made you feel seen, heard, and important, validated, all without saying a single word and after your tears had run dry and you pulled your face away from his damp shirt, you killed that urge to flee and buried it so deep you hoped you'd never find it again.

That day, you poured out your heart for the first time to a person you knew in your very bones you could trust and received nothing but unconditional acceptance in return. JJ took you as you were, flaws and metaphorical scars, dark secrets and past mistakes, and you weren't quite fifteen yet but you wondered if that spark you felt in your blood when he kissed you was love.

It was less than a week later when he showed up at your door late at night, bruised and bloody, and the thrill of a clandestine meeting in your room faded the second you saw the small, pained smile he sent your way. Daisy, swapping roles with you for once, distracted your parents so you could sneak him upstairs like she did with Kelce practically every week and only when you were both safely hidden away in your room did you speak, keeping your voice as soft as your touch against his bruised cheek. "What happened?"

You cried in front of him for the second time when he finally answered, after you cleaned him up with the first aid kit your mom always kept under your bathroom sink and helped him change into some of your dad's old clothes your sister swiped from the laundry room ("if you need anything, just text me, 'k?" she said and you sent her a grateful smile before she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.). JJ was your echo as he spilled all his secrets, too, bringing his demons out of the deep blue darkness and into your golden daylight where they slowly burned to ash, little by little. You held him close, your legs tangled together and his head pillowed on your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair over and over until he talked himself hoarse and his hands loosened their white-knuckled grip on your sweatshirt.

Words had never been your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs, leaning down to press your lips to his forehead, then his closed eyelids, his nose, all over his face until there was no inch you hadn't kissed other than his mouth; you saved that for last, letting each delicate touch linger against his slightly chapped lips like bright beacons of light guiding him through a storm in hopes that he'll make it to shore.

"You'll always be safe with me."

You whispered it into his hair sometime later, through swollen lips that hurt in the best possible way and you felt his slow smile into the curve of your neck, his reply coming in the form of a soft and feather-light kiss against your heated skin. You fell asleep that night with your boyfriend wrapped up in your arms, safe and warm and far away from the father who hurt him in more ways than one.

Your parents, on the other hand, loved JJ so much to the point you thought they'd adopt him if they could, especially your dad. They were constantly inviting him over for dinner, fishing trips, movie nights: you name it, your parents wanted him there, and you were pretty sure he was spending even more time at your place than at John B's. He won the 'favorite boyfriend' category by default because Kelce barely made the 'tolerated' list, much to your and Daisy's amusement.

Despite that fact though, you still snuck JJ out your window that morning to meet him at the front door just as your mother was leaving for her shift at the hospital. Rebekah greeted him with her customary hug before touching his bruised cheek with a gentle hand and concern in her eyes.

"What happened, hon?"

He shrugged, expertly bullshitting some excuse about defending your honor when one of Kelce's friends started going off about how good your ass looked and it instantly appeased your dad, who reached over to clap your boyfriend on the shoulder.

"Good job, kid." Bill said with a pleased grin, then kissed his wife goodbye and headed back down the hall toward the living room. "Hear that, Daisy? Your boy needs to get better friends!"

"Dad!"

"Even better, just get a better boy in general!"

As your father and sister squabbled, your mother pulled you both into another fierce hug and whispered "You always have a place here," before she headed out the door; JJ looked a bit stunned at Rebekah's words and you reached over to give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling softly when he slowly did it back.

Your parents weren't stupid. They knew your boyfriend didn't come from the best of homes but they loved him anyway, showering him in ordinary, everyday affection they knew he rarely got. You noticed it more and more as the months passed: your dad always asking him for help fixing Daisy's clunker of a car when it broke down and both would come inside with grease-stained hands and easy smiles, your mom keeping all the first aid kits fully stocked and hugging him a little tighter when he looked a little worse for wear, both of them making sure he was fed and safe and cared for like he deserved. Even Daisy had a penchant for leaving snacks on your bed like some sort of food fairy and offering to give rides to the beach or the Chateau, especially after she finally dumped Kelce and had, as she said, 'nothing better to do.'

And you? You fell harder each passing day, each moment you spent with him, each kiss that made your veins hum with white hot lightning. Of course, your friends teased you mercilessly but neither of you really minded, knowing that each joke was born pure joy at seeing you both together and happy (though you never missed an opportunity to be extra affectionate in front of everyone as revenge.). JJ continued to teach you how to surf until you could hold your own with the rest of the pogues and when you turned fifteen in late spring, they gave you the surprise of your life in the form of your very own board.

You stared in shock at the sea foam green board propped in the sand beside your friends,' gaping like a fish out of water as they all screamed "happy birthday, Y/N!" at the top of their lungs.

"You...you guys -are you for real?" You reached out to run your fingers over the smooth epoxy surface, the mounting pressure behind your eyes becoming harder and harder to ignore when you caught sight of your friends' identical bright grins. What did you do to deserve them?

"We figured it was time you had your own board instead of that shitty hand me down," John B said, ruffling your hair with brotherly affection that made your heart feel full. Pope nodded enthusiastically and added, "You're gonna improve so much with this -not that you weren't already, I mean!"

"She's already good 'cause she has me for a teacher," JJ said with an overexaggerated wink as he pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Taught her everything she knows."

"Oh, please, you just wanted to mack-"

"Taught her how to make out-"

"What they all mean to say, Y/N," Kiara interrupted, sending the boys a pointed look, then gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, "is that we love you. That word won't kill you guys to say, you know."

"I-I love you guys, too. All of you." You admitted thickly, hastily wiping away the tears you just realized were slipping down your face. It didn't scare you to say it. You didn't feel the urge to run or pretend you didn't care for them as much as they cared for you 'cause you loved your friends like you loved your sister, your parents, and the thought filled you with joy instead of terror. "I don't know how to thank you."

You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a colossal group hug, laughing and crying at the same time as four pairs of arms all tried to wrap around you at once. "How about you start by getting out there and showing us what you're made of?" John B said with a nod toward the ocean and you wiggled your way out of the tangle of limbs, darting forward to pull your new board from the sand.

"Come on, slowpokes," You called over your shoulder as you jogged toward the water, "You aren't gonna let the newbie have all the fun, right?"

The water was a bit too chilly for surfing but the five of you dove in anyway and you grinned so hard you were sure your face would split in two when you nailed your first wave to the rest of the pogues' cheers. You all surfed until the cold was too much to bear before packing up and heading back to your house, where you spent the rest of your birthday surrounded by all of the people you'd ever loved, making s'mores around the campfire in your backyard.

"I meant what I said earlier." You blurted when JJ was the only one around to hear it, the others already headed inside for the night. The two of you laid together on a blanket beside the dying fire as you stared up at the stars and when you spoke, he tore his gaze from the sky to focus on you, one eyebrow raised in the cutest confused expression you'd ever seen.

"Meant what?"

Maybe it was the look in those pretty blue eyes of his or the feel of his fingers running through your hair or your brain remembering every single moment you'd ever shared with him all at once but something screamed at you to say those words, the ones you'd been thinking about saying to his face for a long time. Though you'd already said them earlier, this time was different -so, so different- and you took a deep breath, fighting away the nerves that made your hand tremble as you cupped his face and ran your thumb over his cheekbone.

"I love you."

The funny thing about words: once they're out in the air, there's no taking them back. These words, though? You never wanted to take them back. Ever.

"I love you, too."

It wasn't like the movies. Fireworks didn't go off, the world didn't stop spinning on its axis, nothing magically clicked into place, but you did feel the most wonderful warmth you could ever imagine slowly sinking into your bones when he said it back, the soft smile on his flushed face snatching the very breath from your lungs. He loved you. You loved him. It was simple, uncomplicated, effortless and you smiled into his kiss with the moon and stars as your witnesses.

Summer came again, setting you and Kiara free from the hell known as the kook academy and its rich kid hierarchy and the two of you ran wild -from sunrise to sunset- with your boys at your sides, like birds escaping their cages or horses let loose in the grasslands, untamed and thirsty for adventure. It had only just begun and yet you already knew it was the best summer of your life.

Your dad, a man able to make friends with a rock, struck up a camaraderie with Sarah's father of all people during a deep sea fishing trip and snagged five invitations to some fancy party called Midsummers.

Kiara nearly had a coronary when you shared the news, her face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, thank God!" She breathed, sitting up on her towel and pushing her sunglasses up onto her forehead. "Maybe I'll actually have a good time for once."

The two of you were relaxing on the beach, taking a break while the boys surfed and you turned away from admiring your boyfriend's bare back to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is-"

"-it fucking sucks. Just..." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "a bunch of bourgeoise pigs throwing a party to stroke their overinflated egos."

You groaned and flopped back onto your towel, throwing your arm over your eyes. "Great, a night of rich people being rich people."

Kiara laughed and reached over to grab a bottle of water from the cooler. "You have no idea."

Despite her misgivings, the party wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, the general stench of opulence and wasted money -so much wasted money- was overbearing and quite frankly disgusting but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on having a great time with two of your best friends, making fun of the kooks and sneaking liquor when the adults weren't looking. One of those friends happened to be your boyfriend and you found it very, very hard to keep your eyes off him in that suit of his, with his hair slicked back in just the right way that made your knees weak; JJ couldn't stop staring at you either and you'd lost count of how many times you glanced over to find him already looking at you, something you'd never seen before behind his gaze. You wanted -needed- to find out what it was and you were hoping you would tonight, even if you didn't exactly know how.

"Why don't you two take a picture? It'll last longer." Kiara said sarcastically and you flicked your eyes down to your lap, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in your deep green dress to hide your embarrassment. What was it about that damn suit that made you feel so flustered?

"You know me, Kie," JJ replied, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dance floor. "I like to live in the moment." He grinned down at you and you couldn't help smiling back, giggling as he twirled you under his arm before pulling you close, resting his other hand low on your back.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer," You said, letting him lead you in a simple waltz across the cool grass.

"Well, I'm not but I might've spent the last week practicing with your sister while Kie distracted you." He admitted casually, shooting a thumbs up over your shoulder and you turned to find Daisy grinning in your direction as she swayed with some guy (Daniel, you thought, or maybe Deke? You weren't sure.) you'd seen hanging around the pool a few times. 'You're welcome,' She mouthed before spinning under her partner's arm, her wine-colored dress fanning out around her legs and you smiled wider, twirling back into your boyfriend's embrace and surging up onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

He dipped you low as he returned your kiss, grinning against your mouth when you flung your arms around his neck in surprise, your fingers holding tight to the collar of his suit jacket. "You did all that for me?" You asked once your feet were firmly back on the ground and your heart skipped a beat as his hands brushed the skin exposed by the low-cut back of your dress.

"Anything for you, Y/N."

Later, after dancing until your shoes started to dig uncomfortably into your toes, the two of you snuck down to the beach, your heels in your hands and two stolen drinks in JJ's. You felt a bit guilty ditching Kiara but from the wink she sent your way as you passed by, you were pretty sure she didn't really mind. The sand was cool on your legs through the thin layers of your skirt and yet you felt nothing but warm, both from his arm around your shoulders and the alcohol burning down your throat.

"Shit," You coughed, regretting following your boyfriend's example by knocking the whole thing back at once and playfully jabbing your elbow in his side when he outright laughed at your struggle. "I'm not used to drinking straight...whatever this is."

"It's bourbon, babe." He took the glass from your hand and set it aside before tucking you closer against him to ward off the slight chill of the mellow ocean breeze. "Don't worry, I still love you even if you can't take shots."

"Ha ha. Love you, too, you jerk." You rested your head on his shoulder after they stopped shaking with laughter, perfectly happy to sit in silence together and watch the waves crash against the shore. A pleasant tingle flooded through your body after the bourbon finally stopped burning and you realized you liked the feeling, even if it paled in comparison to the high you reached when he kissed you, when he ran his hand through your hair, when he made it crystal clear you were loved.

"Hey, Y/N?"

JJ's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you shifted your head to look up at him, hooking one of your ankles around his. "Yeah?"

"Gimme your hand."

You obliged, your confusion slowly melting away into something more closely resembling pure, unadulterated affection as he tied a bracelet around your wrist. And not just any bracelet, you noticed when you brought it closer to your face to examine it in the dim, distant light of the party: this one was obviously, beautifully handmade, woven with threads in shades of green, blue, and tan and tied off with two green beads on each end. You ran your thumb over a spot where the intricate motif was just a little messed up and smiled when JJ looked embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a hurry and fucked up the pattern," He confessed sheepishly, spinning a similar bracelet around his own wrist. "I was gonna give it to you on your birthday but I kind of underestimated how long it took to make-"

"It's perfect." You interrupted, tackling him onto the sand with your arms around his neck as you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind. "I love it. I love you."

The smile he sent you was one of unabashed relief and he slid his fingers into your hair to pull you down for another kiss. "I love you, too."

For awhile after that, you let your lips do the talking in a different way and you made out on the beach for -surprisingly- only the second time until you rolled onto your back and accidentally got a little sand in your underwear (he laughed at that but you immediately got your revenge by stuffing a handful down the front of his shirt). You snuck back to the party hand in hand to drop off the forgotten glasses and wave a quick goodbye to Kiara, who just smirked at your smudged lipstick and the golden crown of leaves sitting crooked on your head, before walking toward your house a mile down the road. Well, JJ walked, you hitched a ride on his back when he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Babe, your feet hurt and you have sand in your ass. No way in hell I'm letting you walk."

You just smiled against his shoulder and let him carry you the rest of the way to your house and then even up the stairs to your room as you fired off a text to Daisy letting her know where you disappeared to. She sent 'check your dresser, thank me later' with a winking emoji back and you felt your face get hot when you caught sight of the small box tucked into the corner of the drawer, quickly placing the phone facedown on your bedside table before tossing your shoes onto the floor by your closet and carefully pulling the crown from your messy hair.

"Thanks for the ride, my feet and ass are in your debt."

"Let's make out again and I'll consider that debt paid."

You laughed but gave in 'cause hell, you really wanted to keep making out, too. You pushed JJ backwards until his knees hit your bed and you ended up on his lap, your hands pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders as you leaned down to kiss him. He slid the pins from your hair one by one until it fell around your face and he tangled his fingers in it, pulling your head back so he could trail his lips down the sensitive skin of your neck and you gasped, pausing in the middle of trying to undo the bowtie around his neck.

Something shifted in the air then and you knew that once you took that next step, there'd be no turning back but you were ready to meet it head on as you finished with his tie and tossed it behind you, then started on the buttons of his shirt. That look from earlier was in his eyes again and you nodded, smiling in anticipation when you finally understood what it meant and he languidly slipped one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder.

You bared your body like you bared your soul and soon there was no part of you that he didn't know. You learned every part of him, too and together you brought each other to a high you'd never felt before. It wasn't perfect, of course, but it was perfect to you: every awkward, beautiful touch, when you breathed his name like that for the first time, the way your hands clutched his hair like a lifeline. You were burning up from the inside out, every single nerve on fire and blazing brilliantly under your heated skin and you'd never felt more alive when you came undone in his arms.

In the afterglow, you laid wrapped up together like the woven bracelets you both wore, JJ's fingers steadily tracing the curve of your bare hip as yours soothed the darkening red mark you'd left behind on his neck. The fairy lights strung above your bed cast soft, welcoming shadows all around, highlighting that wonderful look in his eyes, open and awed and oh so loving and you knew your gaze held the same.

"I'm, I-" He started, then shook his head and leaned down to place a lingering kiss on your cheek. "I just -shit."

"Whoa, you're speechless," You teased, sweeping a wayward strand of sweaty blond hair away from his forehead. "Guess I really blew your mind, huh?"

"Fucking fried it." He shook his head again with the dopiest, dreamiest smile you'd ever seen and you giggled as he pulled you closer, calloused palm flat against the small of your back. "I'm so fucking in love with you. Straight up head over heels, babe."

You smiled even wider at his words and how they ignited that flame burning inside you once again. "Good thing I'm fucking head over heels, hopelessly in love with you, too." You replied and pushed him back onto the bed, swinging a leg over his thighs so you were the one on top this time. "And I'm gonna blow your damn mind again."

You weren't sure what you expected life to be like after you had sex for the first time. You'd always heard it was this momentous occasion, that you'd suddenly feel like a real woman or whatever stupid label society came up with to further control girls and their sexuality but honestly, you still felt like the same person. All those rom-coms and their jokes about having that look after getting laid were total and complete bullshit, you realized; to you, sex was just a different, more intimate way to show your love and you just happened to like showing it often (and luckily JJ did, too). You flaunted it in other ways, too, his bandanas tied in your hair and shirts in your closet, your necklaces resting against his collarbone and bracelets you learned to make around his wrists, but there was nothing like the marks you left on each other's skin -necks, inner arms, hipbones- when you were alone together in the dark.

Life went on. Months flew by and things were nearly perfect for you: great friends, good grades, a wonderful relationship with your loving boyfriend. The girl of your past, the one who kept to herself and avoided anything that had to do with being vulnerable like the plague was dead and gone and in her place was the person you always wanted to be. You were happy -ridiculously, deliriously happy- sixteen and so in love with the life you built that you'd almost forgotten about your mom's tendency to relocate your family every few years; that nagging thought was still in the back of your mind but you refused to let it control your life with fear of losing everything -everyone- you'd come to love.

But you knew how the saying went: the bigger you are, the harder you fall.

The higher you climb on an unstable mountain, the more it hurts when it inevitably crumbles beneath you.

Your mountain didn't just crumble: it was violently torn apart, ripped into pieces by a devastating earthquake, a destructive landslide caused by the one person who promised she wouldn't hurt you anymore but the catalyst that unintentionally set it in motion came from someone you never expected: your sister.

Daisy graduated from the kook academy and got accepted into her dream school, UCLA, alongside her boyfriend Daniel (see, you knew his name wasn't Deke) but you didn't think too much of it. After all, you knew that day would come eventually, the day your big sister would head off to college and leave you, her shadow, behind but the thought didn't fill you with dread like it used to. You had friends, a found family to soothe the inescapable sting of the Daisy-shaped hole in your heart and keep your spirits high when she hopped on that plane to California in the fall.

You still had the summer though and you made it count, days spent with your friends and nights spent with your sister, doing all the things you used to do together when you were little; watching movies, playing games, making a total mess in the kitchen when you baked batches and batches of cookies that had both your boyfriend and hers always hanging around like dogs begging for scraps. You and Daisy started putting them to work the second they ate two dozen snickerdoodles by themselves (Daniel was an excellent cook while JJ was a total disaster) and those nights always ended with the four of you squished together on the couch, wrapped in blankets and cookies and warmth while a scary movie played on in the background.

The day before Daisy left for LA, you met your parents and sister at The Wreck for what you thought would be your last family dinner until Thanksgiving break but it turned out you were the only one who believed that. You should've known something was wrong the second your dad didn't even make a joke about your friends dropping you off in John B's rust bucket of a van or when JJ pulled you back in for a kiss that was just a little bit too risque for the public eye (You'd laughed when John B and Pope both pretended to gag and just kissed him harder, not giving a single shit about who saw, even your parents.). You should've known when your mother's smile was a little strained or when your sister wouldn't meet your eyes. You should've known but you stupidly didn't see the signs and that made Rebekah's words so much harder to swallow.

"We're moving to California."

You dropped the loaded nacho in your hand back onto your plate as you stared at her, gaping like a fish. "E-Excuse me but what the actual fuck?"

"Language, Y/N."

"I don't give a shit about my language, Mom, I give a shit about the fact that you broke your promise!" You hissed, roughly pushing your plate away and almost knocking your glass of water over.

"Sweetheart-"

"You promised."

Your mother winced at the tightness of your voice and how you snatched your clenched fist out from under her hand. "I know, dear, but I couldn't pass on this offer and I know how much you're going to miss your sister-"

"Yeah, I'll miss Daisy but I don't want to move across the country just to be near her! God, let her be her own person for once!"

"Y/N-"

"And what about me, huh? I'm happy here! This is my home! I have friends, a boyfriend -I'm not leaving!"

"Honey, I understand you're upset-"

"Do you?" You interrupted your dad with a bitter laugh, fighting the tears you felt pricking at your eyes. "Do you understand what you're forcing me to lose?"

Bill looked away as Kiara arrived with your food and set the plates down in awkward silence. You gave her a tight smile when she quickly patted your back and then returned to the kitchen, sending you a concerned glance over her shoulder before she disappeared through the double doors and you turned to face Daisy.

"Day, did you know?" Your sister avoiding your sudden, sharp gaze was all the answer you needed and your heart dropped like an anchor, weighing heavy on your stomach. You felt sick. You felt furious. But most of all, you felt betrayed.

Suddenly, the sight of your favorite meal in front of you wasn't so appetizing anymore and you abruptly stood, your chair scraping roughly against the floor. Heads turned to look in your direction but you ignored their curious stares as you snarled with all the venom you could muster across the table at your mother, "I knew I never should've trusted a word you said."

You turned away from her hurt expression -the sheer audacity she had, acting like she was the one whose heart was shattering- and ran out the front door of The Wreck before anyone could stop you, pretending not to hear their voices calling after your retreating back. You didn't know where your feet were taking you but you really didn't care, just as long as it was far, far away from your family.

You ran until your aching legs forced you to stop and you doubled over, hands on your thighs as you tried to catch your breath and it wasn't until you saw the water dripping onto the sidewalk beneath you did you realize you were crying. Footsteps slowed to a stop beside you and your braced yourself to hear Daisy's apology or worse, your mother's, but got Kiara's winded voice instead.

"Did you ever think about doing cross country? 'Cause holy shit," She gasped with her hands on her hips. "You can run."

Despite feeling like your whole fucking world was falling apart around you, you still managed a snort of laughter at your friend's remark and eagerly returned her embrace when she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, burying your face against her neck. She held you as you cried, running a soothing hand up and down your back until the rest of your friends pulled up in the Volkswagen and you found yourself crying on a different shoulder, one you knew better than your own.

The white hot fury had left your body and now all you felt was numb. Numb and empty and hollow as you quietly explained everything on the ride back to the Chateau, avoiding your friends' sympathetic stares by playing with a loose thread at the bottom of JJ's shirt. He ran a hand through your hair while you leaned against him and you let his touch slowly bleed life back into your heart.

"You're not leaving, okay? My parents love you so you can stay with me." Kiara declared later as you all lounged around the bonfire, passing a joint back and forth.

"Or me. My dad would probably let you stay if you helped out around the shop," Pope piped up, handing it over to you without taking a drag as John B added, "Me, too. We have an extra room."

"Tijuana's always nice, too, babe." JJ suggested, grabbing your hand holding the joint and bringing it to his mouth so he could take a hit. "Just a thought."

You smiled softly and took your own hit, slowly blowing smoke into the air. "You guys are the best. I doubt my parents'll change their minds...but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." It would definitely hurt if your desperate bid to stay didn't work but you tried not to think about that and focused instead on having a good time with your friends, forgetting all about your phone that was switched to silent and burning a hole in your purse.

Later, after the others headed inside for the night and it was just you and JJ left, you were reminded of your fifteenth birthday. You'd laid like you were now, on a blanket under the stars beside a dying fire and you told him you loved him for the first time and as much as it tore you apart to know it might all come to an end, you didn't regret it. You didn't regret befriending Kiara back in eighth grade or letting the pogues become so important to you or falling so hard for the boy holding you in his arms. And right then, all you wanted to do was hold onto that feeling by showing him your love and getting loved in return.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and leaned down to kiss him, your other hand slipping under his shirt in the flickering glow of the flames and you smiled against his lips when he immediately rolled onto his back so you were on top, his hand doing some exploring of its own under your sundress.

"I don't want to feel anything but you tonight." You answered the question in his eyes when you broke apart some time later, both breathing heavily with your skirt hitched up over your thighs and his shirt tossed somewhere on the grass behind you. "Please."

"Here?"

You'd never fucked outside before but you figured now would be the perfect time to try and to be honest, you were too impatient to make it to a bed so you nodded, slowly rolling your hips against his. "Right here."

You lost yourself in the ardent touch of his calloused hands with the haze of smoke hanging in the cool night air, letting everything slip away until he was the only thing that remained. He was all you needed, tan skin slick with sweat and mouth searing hot, your nails trailing scratches down his back while your lips left smudged marks of blood red on his face. He took you higher and higher, doing exactly what you asked him to, over and over until you nearly forgot your own name and when you finally came back down, he held you close until your limbs stopped shaking and your heart slowed back to its normal rhythm.

"I don't want to lose you." You admitted quietly into the dark, wiping at a stubborn lipstick stain on the corner of his mouth and your thumb caught on his lip when JJ shook his head, then leaned down to drop a kiss at your hairline.

"You won't."

You wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but you didn't know if you could so instead you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him down to press your mouth to his, his cheek, his jawline, everywhere you could reach, drowning yourself in the right now in hopes that the future would never come.

"I love you, Y/N. Don't you dare forget it." He whispered it against the shell of your ear before trailing his lips down your neck and the light scrape of his teeth on your skin turned your voice into a breathless sigh as you repeated his words into the air, your back arching from the blanket when he hit a particularly sensitive spot and sent electricity racing through your veins. You may have spoken your love softly but you showed it fiercely, each touch a little harder than the last, each kiss a little rougher and together you burned through the dark like a funeral pyre.

Hope was a dangerous thing to feel; it was fragile and delicate, hard to keep but oh so easy to lose for someone like you, a girl who spent her whole life searching for a home, only to have it ripped away when she finally found it. It didn't matter what you said or how much you cried or even when Kiara and her parents advocated on your behalf, your time on the island was up and just like that, whatever hope you had left disappeared into thin air and left you wondering if you'd ever get it back again.

tagging some mutuals who might be interested: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @sunnypogue @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybanks

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #jj x reader #obx x reader #jj imagine

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moonlit-mizukage · 3 years

Text

Chapter thirteen: Whatever I’m leaving

Summary: Y/n and Tendou are deeply in love. Living on the other side of Tokyo now, the Monsters are still up to their old shit. They even opened a few businesses for Tax reasons. Even though it’s been almost three years later, Y/n still has never been able to understand how they have avoided the law several times. When Tendou’s Mother reappears in his life, Y/n is confused as Tendou claimed she is dead. Finding out Tendou is being forced to take over the family business by his Mother, she soon learns the truth behind Tendou’s reason he never gets in legal trouble is his family business. His mother is quick to decline Y/n as his future wife and tries to set up Tendou with someone she sees more fit. What will happen to Y/n and Tendou? What will happen to Tendou’s “family business”? What does this mean for the future of the Monsters?

Tw: Swearing, violence but not graphic, blood, stalking

An: Tumblr is still trolling me cries. I will make a post when everything is fixed !! This chapter was supposed to be posted about an hour ago and I have literally been uploading it on repeat only for it to crash and not post :((

____________________________________________________________ Third Person POV

“Well I wanted you to meet your new Fiance.” Kohaku said. Tendou began to laugh hysterically.

“No, Y/n is my finance.” He said back.

“She’s not good for you Tori. I just want you to see how bad she is for you.” Kohaku stated.

“If anyone is bad for me it’s you. Hell you made me take your business over.” He scoffed.

“Don’t act like you weren’t in deep shit of your own.” She spat back.

“Not shit that can kill my Fiance.” He said back.

“If you want to believe that go ahead. I helped you out and that's it.” Kohaku said.

“Whatever. I’m leaving.”

“Why are you leaving your own house?”

“I’m changing the fucking locks and this is mine and my friends house only.” He said as he left the room.

Back at their current house…

Y/n brought Terushima downstairs as they caught Matsukawa as he was heading out.

“I’m off to meet someone at the docks. Kyotani is already outside waiting for me.”

“Alright good luck man.” Terushima said as he slapped him on the back.

The two stopped in the kitchen too and seemed like they were making food. The two saw Hanamaki carrying a bag as he slowly left the house, hoping no one would see him.

“He didn't even notice us here.” Terushima said. Y/n shrugged as she told him to follow as she walked down to the guest room.

“Kenma, I brought him.” She said as she walked into the room.

“Did you check the piece of paper?” Suna asked her.

“No not yet.” She said back.

“You may want to see it.” Shirabu said as Terushima was reading over the messages with Hanamaki.

Y/n looked over to Shirabu and then to Suna before she pulled open the paper. Koshi Sugawara, it read.

“Isn’t this the guy who was supposed to take me on a date in highschool?” She asked Shirabu. Terushima’s head poked up.

“Fuck it is him. He went to our school as well.” Terushima added.

“I thought you two texted?” Shirabu asked.

“We did till the date then he blocked me afterwards. I assumed it was because of the date anyways so I didn’t really care all that much.” Y/n told them.

“So now what do we do with this information?” Suna asked, directed at Terushima.

“Well since Kohaku is being a demon I think we just keep this between us for now. We do some more research or maybe scout missions to see what he's doing and what not. Just try and keep tabs on him the best we can as of now. I don’t want Tendou to lose his top and kill him before we get answers.” Terushima said.

“He has a good point. Satori would kill him on spot with no questions asked.” Y/n said.

“Okay then it’s settled.” As they all fist bumped they heard the loud slam of the front door. The five stood up as they went to go see what was happening.

“Satori?” Y/n spoke up. He turned on his heels and looked over to her. “What happened?”

“That fucking bitch shows up with a whole fucking other women and tells ME that this fucking random bitch is my fiance!” Tendou screamed.

“Holy shit what the fuck.” Terushima said.

“She had the nerve to tell me that Y/n is bad for me. Like fucking where you dumb bitch.” He said as he slammed his fist into the wall.

Y/n walked up to him slowly and wrapped her arms around him.

“Hey, it’s okay Satori. Let’s go take a bath together.” She whispered into his chest.

Meanwhile...

Down at the docks, Matsukawa and Kyotani were sneakily following a shipment crate on foot. The two were on a private job they had started as a side business as hitmen for hire. It just so happened this day they got some people they wanted to happily take out one by one.

“Look.” Matsukawa pointed at the crate as it was finally placed. A few men came out from the car that was following it along. They unlocked the crate as they opened it up walking inside. “Are you sure that’s the right one?” Matsukawa asked.

“Fuck yeah it is. I checked the tracking number.”

“Is anyone you can see still in the car?” Matsukawa asked him.

“Let’s move closer and check.”

The two snuck closer to a better view of the car. They peaked and no one was there.

“Come on.” Kyotani flagged him down to follow as he creeped up to the crate. He peeked inside and saw only the two men they had originally. “Time to play your favorite sport.” Kyotani said as Matsukawa raised his bat with a demonic smile on his face.

The two ripped the doors back open and stood in the entrance way.

“Sup fuckers?” Matsukawa asked. The two men turned around as Matsukawa and Kyotani were standing resting the bat and crowbar on their shoulders.

“What the hell do you want?” The one asked.

“A better question is why the fuck are you on our turf?” Kyotani spat.

“North side will run this fucking place soon assholes.”

“The only thing you run is your mouths.” Matsukawa said with a laugh.

The two guys reached into their jackets and went to pull out their guns. Before they could fully pull them out both were being struck by the Monsters weapons. Matsukawa and Kyotani were going absolutely insane with their swings. Bones breaking, screams and crying were all heard from the men.

After the two were sure they were dead, they started to raid the crate.

“Look at this dude.” Matsukawa called out. Inside the box in front of him was a load of guns.

“Gun running. Nice.” Kyotani said.

“I’ll go get the car. Stay alert.” Matsukawa said as he walked out.

When Matsukawa came back he noticed a shadow moving around in the distance.

“Mad look.” He nodded towards the shadow. Kyotani looked out and noticed it must have been someone following them. “Should we shoot them?”

“These guys got a silencer on theirs. Let’s fucking kill this prick.” Kyotani said.

Over in the shadows hiding was someone they knew all too well

Hanamaki

______________________________________________________________

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#tendou smau #tendou x you #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n #tendou mafia #haikyuu mafia #haikyuu mafia smau #haikyuu mafia au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #tw blood #tw body horror #tw stalking

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imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 4 years

Text

Lockdown

Authors Note: I am a British writer and luckily enough I have never actually had to experience something like this happening. I cannot imagine what it must be like. There is reference to the ‘shooting’ during the fanfiction, therefore, I do not blame anyone if they differ from reading this. Nothing is graphic and if anything it only gets mentioned for a small portion and there is no one hurt either. I would really like to do a part two. Let me know if anyone is interested.

Summary: It was just a normal day in Beacon Hills. Y/N and her friends were going about her business when a gun threat disrupted the balance of things. Strangers and potential foes grew closer as their lives hung in the balance.

Warning: Gun Threat, Swearing, Adult Language and Themes

Pairing: Reader x Stiles Stilinski

Word Count: 3,787

“You can not tell me that you didn’t just see that look he gave you?” Jackson brushed up against my side as I tried to jot down the new notes that Coach was terribly transcribing on the chalk board. I mean was that even spelt correctly, how did this man become a legal teacher?

“It is probably just in your head Jackson.” I counter.

“No he is seriously giving you the stink eye. What is McCall’s problem?”

I shrug him off as he is up to his typical shit stirring mode. Jackson and I are neighbours and long-time friends. Since I was nine, we were barely ever apart, we shared our biggest secrets with one another. Mine was that I am the daughter of two illusive demon hunters. I am the only person who knows that he has been pretending to be someone who he is not. Jackson has been in a secret relationship with Ethan. Deep down Jackson was a sweetheart. A sweetheart who cannot control his mouth or fists but Ethan and I are working on that.

“Come on Y/N!” He bumped my arm which made my hand jerk and my notes start to resemble that of Coach’s horrible penmanship. If there is one thing that I hate, its when my notes are not written one hundred percent perfectly. I slam down my pen and turn abruptly in my chair to face Jackson, which sparks some attention from the brunette boy on the table in front. He did not fully turn his head around which was lucky for me as my cheeks immediately go red from embarrassment.

“What is your problem Jackson?” I enquire, nostrils practically flaring which only invoked a chuckle from my best friend.

“Take that chip off of your shoulder and listen to me would you.” He countered as he pushed a note into my hand. “Read this and tell me you wish I left you to copy down that gibberish from the board.”

I huffed and started to carefully unfold the piece of paper. Coach didn’t really care if we showed up to the lesson, let alone if we were actually listening. I read it three times before I actually registered what the words were telling me.

Hey Y/N If you could would you be able to meet me in the west stairwell after 3rd period? You look really pretty today, btw

“Jackson, who is this from?” The boy shrugged and dropped his head to focus on the words coming out of Coach’s mouth. “Don’t pretend like you care about what he is saying” I gesture to the shaggy haired man “now tell me at least who you got this from.”

Jackson pointed to Lydia who was not at all aware of the two pairs of eyes on her as she casually scribbled in her journal. “But I have no clue who had the note before her. It was probably that McCall.” He sneered. I exhale disappointedly, as much as Scott was a nice guy and all, I don’t want this to be from him. I do not have anything against the guy, he is just not someone who I would want to be interested in me. He seems to always be around trouble, and that is something I cannot be involved in.

“Why don’t you just go and see who it is. I will go with you and if it turns out to be McCall, I will rescue you.” He gave my hand a slight squeeze for reassurance and gazed down at my notebook. “By the way what did you get for number four?”

I laugh a little too loud which causes the brunette to turn around and give me a quick glance that I couldn’t translate in time before he was facing the front again. Again, my cheeks flared, the same way that they do every time his eyes meet mine. I shake the thought away and turn back to my friend. “Jackson, did you think this was a test the whole time? Number four is literally asking you to write down your height.”

_____________________________________________________________

I was packing my stuff into my bag as the bell rang. “So, are you going to meet this mystery person?” Lydia enquired as I put my water bottle into the slot at the side of my bag, looping the strap over my one arm.

Lydia and I do not really talk, but considering she was my only lead on who this note could have been from, I bit the bullet and spoke to my lab partner. As we were filling the beakers with corrosive liquid, I came straight out with it. “So, about this note you handed to Jackson for me? Do you know who it was from?”

Lydia shook her head, a little startled that I asked her a question that wasn’t ‘can you pass me the pipette?’ “No, to be honest I can not even say who had passed me the note. When I looked down from the board it was just there lying on top of my journal. I am sorry Y/N, I wish I were able to help more but I honestly wouldn’t be able to say who gave it to me.”

I was a little discouraged by only knowing what I did during first period and it was now third. I was meant to meet this person in only a matter of minutes. Lydia and I continued to talk throughout the class. She was really nice to talk to, but I could sense that there was something about her that wasn’t normal. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something.

“I have no clue if I am going to go or not.” I admit, letting the anxiety slip in. It would be hard enough for me to go through with it even if I knew who it was I was going to meet up with. This person said I was ‘pretty,’ for all I knew this could be a joke. That’s all I needed, I was already the girl with all the ancient supernatural protection runes all over my person and possessions. My mum and dad are hunters, and I have been brought up in a world where I cannot go anywhere without some protection. The salt and holy water in my bag is proof of that.

“Well, I hope whoever it is, knows how amazing you are. If he doesn’t, he will have me to deal with.” She bumped my hip with hers and waved as she left the lab.

I picked up the last item on the table and turned to leave the classroom when I was knocked onto the floor, landing hard on my butt. At first, it felt as though I had walked straight into an invisible force field. Little had I registered that it was a person.

“Oh shit!” It was the brunette from this morning. ‘Dammit’ I thought. I could already feel my cheeks start to turn red. Why did this always have to happen. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to; I wasn’t looking where I was going.” The brunette boy bent down to help me up from the floor.

I brush off my jeans once I am back on my feet, avoiding making eye contact with the boy in front of me. He too looked really nervous as if this incident was his worst nightmare. “I- it’s o- okay.” I stutter. Really voice, of all the times you want to fail me, it’s now. “I w- was just going.” I try to walk past him when a blaring siren started ringing throughout the school.

Panic flashed across my face and his too. Everyone’s worst nightmare, a gun drill. The siren was one hundred percent recognisable. “Get down!” The brunette boy threw himself at me as I yet again landed flat on my backside but with him on top of me this time. We were both frozen for a couple of seconds, my eyes locked on his and it might sound girly, but I could literally lose myself in them.

Finally, he lifted himself up off me and slid underneath one of the tables. I copied and mirrored him under the table in front of his. “I’m sorry, I thought I saw someone walk past the window inconspicuously behind you. I just panicked.” His eyes searched my body, the way that I was now hugging my legs, resting my chin on top of my knees. “Oh God, did I hurt you?” Fear flooded his face at the thought that he may have caused me any pain.

I shake my head. “No.” I whisper. “I’m okay, thank you.” My hand instantly goes to play with the locket that hung around my neck.

“What’s that?” His eyes caught my fingers tracing the metal details.

I freeze. “What’s what?”

The brunette flicked his head towards the chain that was between my fingers.

“Oh, it’s a necklace my dad gave me, to protect me.”

The boy smiled. “That’s cool. My dad gave me a baseball bat to protect me.” I felt the corners of my lips rise into a slight smile.

“I bet you wish you had it now?” I enquire.

The boy sniggered. “If only a bat was an equal match.” I knew what he was on about. A bat could not compare to a gun. “Wanna know something funny?”

“Something funny would be great right about now.” I could feel my foot start to twitch the way that it did when my mum and dad were out on a hunt. Total and utter uselessness. I was a sitting duck.

“My dad once told me that I am always at the centre of some drama.” He let out a sigh. “That wasn’t really that funny was it?”

I shake my head but smile. “Your dad seems like a smart man.”

He smiled and raised a hand to ruffle his hair. God why did he look so good when he did that. “He has to be, I mean he is the sheriff.”

“You’re the sheriff’s son?” I question my eyes went wide in shock. I had heard a lot about this boy. He was best friends with Scott McCall and his dad is right, he always seemed to be in trouble.

He smiled beautifully if that were possible during a terrifying circumstance. “Yeah, you didn’t think it was a coincidence that I am called Stiles Stilinski and there would be no relation to Sheriff Stilinski?” His smile and baffled tone made me smile back at him. “It’s not as common as most surnames. I mean what’s yours?”

“Winchester.” I reply.

“Now that is not a common surname.” He leaned out from under the desk with his arm stretched out. I took his in return. “Nice to meet you Y/N Winchester.”

“You too Stiles Stilinski.” My eyes locked onto his and our hands clung to each other. It felt like we had been holding hands for hours, completely frozen in each other’s gazes.

Suddenly there was a loud pop that rang throughout the building. This tore our hands apart finally. I retreated under the table and moved my legs back up to my chest, creating a shield. Stiles did the same but did not take his eyes off me. I started gripping onto my locket as my breathing became more rapid. I was normally better at threats, my parents dealt with the supernatural world. They battled ghosts, demons, vampires and even werewolves and yet a civilian with a gun going around the school, finger on the trigger, changed me into a nervous wreck.

There was this scuffling noise and suddenly there were arms around me holding me tight. “Shh, its okay Y/N.” Stiles was holding onto me, trying his best to soothe my breathing down. “Breathe with me okay. Copy me. Y/N, you need to look at me.” His hands were either side of my face as he whispered to keep our location a secret. “You can do this. Ready?”

My eyes locked onto his, tear stains running down my cheeks. I watched him attentively as he took each breath. I copied never losing eye contact with those light brown eyes. “That’s it. One more time okay?” His thumb caressed my cheek as I nodded. My breathing finally falling back into place. I take my last breath and let it fall. “That’s it.”

I thought now that my breathing was back to normal that Stiles would release me, but he didn’t. He held his grasp onto my body and did not look away. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his voice getting caught in this throat. Part of me wanted to say yes, to pretend that I was this tough girl. But the boy had just seen me during a panic attack. Me saying that I was not okay wasn’t going to come to be that much of a surprise. I shake my head.

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes.” I went to wipe a tear that was falling from my cheek but Stiles was there before I got a chance. “Do you want to know a secret?”

I nod, dropping my legs from my chest. “I’m afraid of a lot of things. My friends and I, we face a lot of scary things and for most of it, I feel like I will die. But the thing is, we could die. But that could happen any day and at any time. I believe that we live through the scariest moments in our lives so that we can tell people about them.”

“What was the scariest moment in your life?” I ask, my voice all croaky from holding back the tears.

“Well apart from this one?” He pauses as he gathers his thoughts. “The scariest moment in my life was the day that something possessed my best friend and it led him to almost commit suicide.” I gasp, shocked by what he had just confessed.

“What happened?” I have dealt with possessions before, that wasn’t the part that shocked me.

“Well we went on a school trip and there was something supernatural that had possessed my friends, they were driven to madness. Scott picked up a flare, he was covered in gasoline, it was all around him.” He broke off as his voice cracked. “I walked over to him and held his hand and the flare. I told him that if he needed to do it, then we were both going to go. I was and always will be by his side.”

I took his hand this time and I felt him jump. “I had no idea. I am so sorry that that happened.” Stiles was staring at our entwined hands.

“But the other scariest moment in my life was when I wrote you that note.” I felt a sharp thump to the chest. I was so stupid, how did I not know it was the cute boy who sat in front of me in practically every class that we had together. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” I respond. Stiles had not lifted his head since our hands connected.

“Were you going to come and meet me? I mean obviously before all of this happened.”

I stop and think. Was I? I hadn’t given that moment another thought since the siren went off. It felt like days ago I had been handed the note. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Stiles’ tone was defeated and sombre. His grip on my hand also weakened the minute my response registered. “I know it was a stupid thing to do. I just thought that if I was going to take a jump and finally try to ‘make my move’ as they say.”

“Stiles, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture-“

“It’s just you don’t like me. I get it. I actually get it a lot.” His head dropped and he tried to pull away. I feared that he was going to leave me alone under the table and return to his own.

“No stiles it wasn’t that-“

“Is it cause I’m weird looking? Dad and Scott say I look a little odd.” The boy was rambling.

“No you’re not weird looking-“

“Then it is because of the way I talk isn’t it?”

“No it-“

“It’s my clothes then isn’t it? I dress in a lot of tartan. You know some people say-“ I grab the boy, placing a hand behind his head I pull his lips towards my own. Stiles’ eyes widened the second my lips connected to his. But soon enough his hands drifted from his side and tied themselves in my hair pulling me deeper into the kiss. It was as if Stiles had come alive once we kissed. Our lips moved in time with each other almost as if they were made to do this and only this. The shy boy became more confident and definitely more dominant as his tongue lightly brushed my bottom lip. I let his tongue meet my own, and his moan vibrated against my mouth.

Our bodies moved in sync with each other. My one hand entwined in his hair while the other draped down his back. His were on my hip and the back of my neck as we both pushed ourselves closer together if that were possible.

When I broke the kiss, his pupils were wide in surprise and desire. “Why did you stop?” Stiles questioned, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“I would have met up with you Stiles.” I whisper into his ear. When I pull my head away from his neck his eyes were wider than they were when the kiss broke apart. “But maybe next time, you should author your notes, perhaps?”

A cheeky grin spread out across his face as my words registered. “Wait, does that mean I forgot to say it was from me, that you’d be meeting me.” I nod as the boy put the puzzle pieces together. “I am an idiot.” The boy slapped his own forehead at his carelessness. “Can I ask you another question?” I smile and nod. “Can we do that kiss again? I really liked it.”

The smirk on his face was enough for me to give into his charms. Before I could lean in, Stiles had grabbed me by my hips and pulled me onto his lap. I hooked my arms around his neck and allowed his lips to connect with mine, his hands firmly on the space between my hips and my ass. It was a bit of a squeeze under the table, the top of my head was rested on base of the table. I was aware that I may have gum in my hair because of this, but I didn’t care. Hearing his moans as my hands trailed from the back of his neck and down his spine was enough for me to crumble within his arms.

Stiles’ lips drifted away from my own but instantly connected into the crook of my neck. This time it was my turn to let out a moan. “Stiles.” I sighed when he hit the right spot and began to suck on it with his hot breath spreading across my skin.

Both of us jumped apart when we heard a cough from the front of the lab. There stood Scott McCall. I was just thankful that it wasn’t Coach or any other member of the School Faculty. I looked back at Stiles who for once didn’t seem happy to see his best friend. “Not exactly what we were taught to do during a school shooting, Stiles.” He nodded towards me “Y/N, Jackson is worried about you, he said you were not answering your phone.”

Stiles detangled me from his lap and helped me to my feet in front of the table rather than being under it as we had previously been.

I pulled out my phone and funny enough there was sixteen missed calls from Jackson and twenty-two messages from him as well as a couple from my own father. Not cool Jackson do not get my dad involved in this.

“What are you even doing out in the open, Scott?” Stiles grilled. “There is a school shooting going on you know.”

“Dude that ended about twenty minutes ago, your dad came arrested the guy. The teachers announced that we could all go home. I was on my way home when Jackson came up to me and asked me if I had seen Y/N. When I told him no, he went into panic mode and started running up and down the corridors.”

I felt my phone vibrate in my hands, Jackson again. “Hello?”

“Oh my God. Thank God you’re okay. Are you still in the school? Where are you? I will come and get you and take you home.”

I look up at Stiles who held onto my hand and gave me the sweetest smile. “Jackson I am okay. I think I am going to get a ride with someone else. Thank you for always looking after me. I love you.”

“It’s my job. Who are you with so I know you are safe, put them on the phone?”

I hand the phone over to Stiles who takes it apprehensively. “He wants to make sure I haven’t concocted some excuse to avoid listening to Taylor Swift in his car, again.”

“Hello?”

“Oh my God, Stilinski? What are you doing with Y/N?”

Stiles pulls the phone away from his ear and places a hand over the microphone. “I don’t think he is too happy that you’re with me.” I laugh and he put the phone back up against his ear. “Jackson I will look after her, I promise. Enjoy Taylor Swift though. I really like the one she sings with Ed Sheeran.” He pulls the phone back and hits the end call button on the screen.

Scott looks questioningly between the two of us. “So, what is going on between you two. Is this going to be a normal thing now? Am I going to have to write up a schedule for who gets Stiles during the week?”

Stiles slaps his friend’s back. “You still got me. But now she has me too, only she gets more kisses than you. I mean we could add more kissing sessions when we are together if you would really like?”

“I think I will pass.” Scott announced.

“Good because there would be no competition.” Stiles twirled me so that I was now pressed against his chest and laid another kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, his head was bent down to mine, eyes locked on my own. “You ready to go home?”

Part 2?

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master-sass-blast · 6 years

Text

Paint it Red

DEAR GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER. HOLY SHIT.

Summary: You and Piotr celebrate Valentine’s Day together --and because Piotr is Piotr, he knocks it out of the park by spoiling you at every turn.

This is a fluff fic. Not a drop of angst in sight. You’re welcome.

Rating: E for HOLY SHIT HOW DID SO MUCH SMUT END UP IN THIS?

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, roadhead (drive safe, kids), and graphic (consensual) sex.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Tag list: @marvel-is-perfection

Side note: The lyrics in the beginning portion are from Paramore’s “The Only Exception.”

Special thank you to @starman-thorsus-canos-jock for beta reading this! If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t be getting uploaded tonight because I wouldn’t have had the guts to do it!

“When I was younger/ I saw my daddy cry/ And curse at the wind...”

You hum along with the song playing on your phone, swaying back and forth slightly as you work on applying your makeup for the evening.

You’d never celebrated Valentine’s Day as a child --save for once, when you’d been on your uncle’s farm when the holiday had rolled around, and he’d decided to celebrate with you by fixing both of you massive ice cream sundaes and telling you about all the ridiculous bad dates he’d been on.

Sometimes, you think that man’s the only reason you have any sense of humanity in you.

Wade, technically, had properly introduced you to the holiday once you arrived at Xavier’s. He’d tossed five different bags of red, white, and pink wrappered candy in your lap before putting some sort of classically bland and saccharine rom-com on and watching it with you.

You still have some of the wrappers saved, tucked away in a box in your closet.

Piotr, though, had been the one to introduce you to Valentine’s Day to a whole new level; he’d kept things tame during your first year together, at your request, but the night --an evening picnic in his art studio, complete with candles and flowers--had been completely and utterly perfect.

This year, though, you’d given him free reign to do what he wanted --he’s the planner of the two of you, with legal access to a car and legally earned money in his bank account

--and thus far, you’re completely and utterly swept off your feet by what he’s come up with.

He’d told you to pack an overnight bag last night, with reasonably detailed instructions on what to pack: a nice dress and things to pair with it for an evening out, pajamas, and comfortable clothes for the drive back the next morning.

And toiletries, makeup, etcetera etcetera --not the fucking point.

Because the fucking point is that the next morning he’d surprised you with breakfast in bed before telling you to get dressed and grab your bag. And then he’d driven you to the fanciest fucking hotel you’ve ever seen and revealed that not only had he booked a room for the night, but he’d made reservations at a restaurant that --when you’d taken a moment to look it up on your phone--was so expensive it nearly made you fall over.

How he could afford it was beyond you, but leave it to Piotr Rasputin to blow every guy on the face of the planet away on Valentine’s day.

A day out of the mansion, away from everyone, just for the two of you.

There’d even been a vase of roses and a box of chocolates waiting in the room, as per instructions your wonderful boyfriend had left with the hotel staff.

Again, leave it to Piotr Rasputin.

He’d taken you out to lunch, then to a nearby art museum and showed you around with the intensity, passion, and mild distractedness that only an artist could have in such a place.

And you’d watched him, entertained and enthralled and endlessly endeared.

And now, now you’re back at the hotel, getting ready for what promises to be a fabulous dinner.

“You are/ the only exception/ You are/ the only exception--”

You sing along with the song, swaying as you continue working on your makeup. You’re almost done and all you’ve got left is to change into your dress --you’d thought it best to leave it off until your makeup was done and put away, thus making spills impossible--and put on your shoes. You grumble as you try to get your eyeliner done --and realize that, perhaps just maybe, swaying isn’t exactly conducive to making even eyeliner wings. “Why. Is. Eye-line-r so damn hard? Why. Is. Eye-line-r so damn hard?”

A loud snort from the bathroom door makes you pause.

Piotr’s wiping at his eyes as he braces himself against the door frame. “Did you mean to sing that with the song?”

You smirk and shrug. “Hey, I think I’m onto something. Just you watch, it’ll be the greatest hit of the year.”

“Are you almost ready, myshka? Our reservation is soon.”

“Yeah, yeah --fuck it.” You cap your eyeliner pen and toss it in your makeup bag. “Who needs wings? They’re just a pain in the ass anyway.” You swipe on some lipstick, do an obligatory lip pop at the mirror, and then change into your dress for the evening.

It’s a relatively modest, lacy, red number that neither clings to you like a second skin or hugs your every curve. It does, however, fit you properly, match Piotr’s tie perfectly, and make you feel like a princess or a superstar when you wear it, and that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

(For the record, it is.)

You put on your shoes --a pair of black pumps with enough heel to make you sound fancy without being high enough to risk twisting any ankles--then fluff your hair before doing a little spin. “How do I look?”

He smiles at you, dreamy and almost shy. “Krasivaya. Always.”

Beautiful.

You can’t help but preen a little at his praise, and take the arm he offers to you. “Take me to dinner, Mr. Rasputin.”

He chuckles as he opens the door that leads to the hall for you. “But of course, dorogaya moya.”

The restaurant is located near the Hudson river, and is out of the city enough that you don’t have to worry about getting clipped by a taxi when you get out of the car.

It’s the small things in life, really.

Piotr hands his keys to the valet before opening your door and holds out a hand to you. “Moya lyubov’.”

Some whimsical, inane, distracted part of your brain whisks you away in a bizarre sort of fantasy, where’s he’s actually a Russian crime lord and you’re some kind of waitress or college student or otherwise financially strapped young woman that’s being seduced by the trappings of luxury and crime, and he’s in turn being charmed by your plucky personality and down-to-earth sensibilities.

Granted, it’s not the weirdest thing your mind’s ever come up with, so you just giggle and let him escort you inside.

Given how all out Piotr’s been going for the holiday, you’d half expected to be seated in some sort of private room --and are grateful when you aren’t. You enjoy the background hum of the other diners and the opportunity to people watch; it keeps the lulls in conversation from feeling too stifling.

Besides, it’s not like you needed a private dining experience to make the evening any more memorable. The view of the river is divine, ripples and currents glittering as the lights from the city refract off the water. And the dining room itself is heavenly, all white linens and tea light candles and soft, jazzy piano music being piped through seemingly invisible speakers.

You’re feeling more and more the part of the seduced, ho-hum citizen, almost dizzy from the heady thrill of it all. You can’t help but giggle when he pulls out your chair for you --and pushes it back in, ever the consummate gentleman--and peek at him coyly from beneath your lashes when he sits down across from you. “You’re going all out for tonight.”

He smiles back and takes one of your hands in his --careful to avoid the little tealight candle sitting at the center of the table, ever the consummate worry-wart. “You deserve to be spoiled. Today is good excuse.”

You arch an eyebrow at him, smirking playfully. “You need an excuse?”

He winks at you. “Only to get time off work.”

You open your mouth to say something else--

And then a perfectly coiffed blond man dressed in an chef’s uniform is walking up to your table with a smile. “Piotr. It’s good to see you.”

Piotr stands and shakes the man’s hand with a smile of his own. “Grant. It has been too long.”

“No kidding.” The man --Grant--glances at you with a smile. “Are you going to introduce me to your date?”

You can’t help but preen a little --again--when Piotr does, basking in the glow of his affection the way a cat basks in the glow of a sunbeam.

(They may as well be the same damn things, as far as you’re concerned.)

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you and even lovelier to see that Piotr can, in fact, do something other than pine in the presence of a pretty girl.”

You giggle when Piotr shoots Grant an indignant look. “I mean... how long were you calling me ‘myshka’ for before you told me it was a term of endearment used by couples? A year? A year and a half?”

Grant groans quietly as the tips of Piotr’s ears go red. “Dude. No.”

“I kissed him first, too, if that counts for anything.”

“I think everything ended up fine,” Piotr says emphatically, trying to end the conversation before it gets too out of hand.

“Says the glacier,” Grant teases before refocusing on you. “Piotr’s an old friend of mine; we studied at Xavier’s together, and he encouraged me to pursue my love of the culinary arts when I felt like I couldn’t keep up with the X-Men. Oh, he did the artwork for here, too.”

You twist in your seat to survey the dining room --and sure enough, you recognize Piotr’s style. You make an approving noise in the back of your throat as you smile at your boyfriend. “I’m surprised I didn’t recognize it earlier.”

“It’s not my best work.”

“Pete, if it wasn’t your best work, I wouldn’t have it hanging up. I know what I’m about.” Grant grins and clasps his hands together. “At any rate, when Piotr called me and asked me to help him, quote, ‘give the love of his life the most memorable Valentine’s Day she’s ever had,’ I couldn’t say no.”

You smile bashfully and duck your head, feeling ever drunker off the depths of Piotr’s love for you and the lengths he’ll go to show it.

“So, far be it from me to tell you what to order or how to order it, but I do hope you’ll let me pick your wine for the evening; a personal favorite of mine, pairs well with just about anything.”

It takes a moment to realize that Grant’s waiting for your approval, not Piotr’s --you’re the lady of the evening, and things’ll go however you want them to--and when you put it together you lift your head with a little giggle and nod. “That sounds great.”

The wine is excellent.

Not because it has undertones of oak or berries or whatever the fuck terms wine snobs use when describing wine. It’s just good. Rich.

It tastes like luxury without the ‘Buzzfeed Worth It’-toss-a-bunch-of-gold-leaf-and-fucking-truffles-on-top-to-sell-the-‘luxury’ ridiculousness to deal with.

The food is excellent. For the same reasons as the wine, but also because it’s delicious.

The inane, fantasy spinning part of your brain --which has been significantly boosted thanks to the wine, not that it needed much encouragement to begin with--is on some tangent about how this is the way to do proper seduction. No ridiculous, cheesy, trendy five star restaurant that puts truffle on everything so they can pump up the prices, or encrusts things in diamond because they could. No over the top shopping spree to start off the day or limo ride on the way over.

It’s about quality. About letting the activities serve as an accent, a backdrop, to the affection you feel for the recipient.

And, fuck, Piotr’s good at it. He’s always been good at getting things ‘just so,’ at finessing everything just right so that you feel like the center of the world without being overwhelmed by some sort of ostentatious display.

“Alright, I have to know,” you say as you take another bite of mashed potatoes that are so damn smooth they may as well be made of silk. “How long did you spend planning this?”

“Most of the year,” he admits. “To make sure I could get proper reservations. I did not want to get caught short.”

“Well, this has been completely and utterly spectacular,” you say.

“It’s not over yet,” he says with a glint in his eye that tells you he’s thinking about exactly the same thing as you.

You can’t help but squirm in your seat a little, excited and impatient. “No, it certainly isn’t.” You drink a little more wine --you’re almost done for the night, you’ve learned your limits by now--and smile at him. “You know, last year, when I told you that you could go all out, I almost expected... I don’t know. Everything big and flashy --rose petals on the bed, or something.”

He catches your meaning and arches a thick eyebrow at you. “Is that what you would have wanted?”

You shake your head immediately. “No. It would’ve been too much. But this... this is perfect.”

He smiles, cheeks pinking at your praises, and holds out one of his hands to you. “I like to think I know you well.”

“You were tempted to go that far though, even if just for a moment,” you press, amused and endeared because you know him too, as you place your hand on his. “Admit it.”

“I was,” he confesses without any trace of shame or embarrassment. “Because you are my world and I want to give you everything in it.”

You can feel tears threatening to well up and you bite the inside of your bottom lip to hold them back because you worked hard on your makeup, dammit. “Well, count me as curious, because I really want to know what stopped you.”

“You’re always curious.”

“And if you were actually complaining about that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He smiles. “I will never complain about your curiosity. It is one of the things I love most about you.”

“You keep talking like that and my heart’s gonna actually melt.”

“I know some good healers,” he says with a wink.

You can’t help but laugh, soft and drunk on love. “Okay, but how did you figure out this wouldn’t be too much for me?”

“You think I don’t know you?”

“No, I know you know me, I’m curious about the process. C’mon, babe, humor me a little. Show me how the fascinating mind of Mr. Piotr Rasputin works.”

He chuckles and rubs your knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “I know you can be... overwhelmed by affection at times. That gestures too grand make you anxious because you don’t know how to handle them. So I opted for... a quiet glamour, if you will.”

You honestly can’t think of a better way to describe the evening. “Well, you nailed it. I almost feel bad for not having anything for you.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I wanted opportunity to spoil you, and you let me have it.”

“That honestly sounds like a load of crap.”

“You do so much for me every day without realizing it.” His face goes unexpectedly serious, and you know it’s because he’s getting emotional. “As much as you think you offer nothing to me, you are wrong. I may not deal with struggles as severe as yours, but--” he pauses to swallow and find the words he wants “--there are many days where I feel lonely. I know that I come off as idealistic, naive, to others. A ‘glorified hall monitor.’ I know that people don’t always respect me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Babe--”

He shakes his head and smiles. “The people who I care about most respect me. I don’t care about others. Point of matter is, you make me feel loved and appreciated. The parts of myself that people make fun off, you make feel... good. Respected.” He looks up at you, and his eyes are shimmering with unshed tears. “You make me feel like I’m enough.”

Dammit, now you’re gonna cry. “You’re enough, Piotr. Just as you are. You’re so much more than enough.”

“Well, you make me feel like it.” He smiles politely when the server clears away your empty plates, nods when they ask if the two of you want dessert menus, then reaches into his pocket as they walk away. “Ah. Before I forget--”

“Babe --what?” Your heat hammers as he places a red velvet box on the table and scoots it towards you.

You know it’s not an engagement ring. You don’t have a diagnosis yet for your episodes, and the last conversation the two you had about marriage, you still wanted to wait for one and he was still fine with that. If that had changed, he would’ve talked to you about first.

That, and the box is a little too big for it to be a ring box --not to mention the fact that if Piotr was proposing, he’d already be down on one knee.

You open the box and gasp as a tasteful, elegant diamond necklace on a dainty silver chain glitters up at you. “Piotr...”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, moya lyubov’.”

You press your hand against your mouth, eyes watery, and smile. “It’s... it’s really fucking beautiful, Piotr. Will you help me put it on?”

“Konechno.”

He stands as you --carefully, you don’t want to break the chain--extract the necklace from the box, then takes it from your hands and moves behind you.

The combination of the cool metal against your skin and his fingers brushing against the nape of your neck makes you shiver.

And then he’s pressing his fingers against the underside of your chin and tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours.

It takes all your willpower not to moan into the kiss; it’s closed-mouthed, it’s not like the two of you are Frenching each other in the restaurant, but you can still feel the passion and want behind it.

Your toes do curl in your shoes, though, and you do get a few chuckles out of some nearby patrons at the sigh you let out.

And then your sever’s back with the dessert menus, gushing about how cute the two of you are and complimenting Piotr on his taste in jewelry as he heads back to his seat.

Your hand flits to your neck, feeling the gems in their settings, and once you get your head back you ask “How did you even afford all this?”

He glances around the dining room --at his art on the walls--with an amused smirk before opening his dessert menu. “I know better than to work for free.”

You know you have to make the first move.

Now that lunch and the art museum and getting ready and the drive over and dinner and the necklace and dessert are all out of the way, you know that you’ve only got the drive back to the hotel to capitalize on the burning, throbbing sexual tension between the two of you and get your fun in.

Because as soon as the door to your hotel room closes, you know full well that Piotr Rasputin, the world’s most perfect boyfriend and gentleman extraordinare, is going to fuck your brains out.

You’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you all evening; you know damn well that it doesn’t matter that the dress you’re wearing isn’t a skin-hugger or a cleavage trap. To him, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world, and his desire for you isn’t something that’s solely stoked by how much skin you’re showing at a given moment.

(Which isn’t to say that showing skin doesn’t rev his engine. You’ve spent enough mornings figuring out how to walk again after prancing around in your underwear while he got ready for teaching to know that it does.)

You’ve also spent enough time being horny for and with Piotr Rasputin to know that he’s his own damn textbook. If he’s hungry for you and can’t get a fix right away, he still can’t keep his hands off of you. He’ll play with your hair, rub his thumb against the nape of your neck, splay his hands against the curves of your waist--

--or, if the two of you are in a car, he likes to put his hand on your thigh.

And you know that if his hand hits your thigh before your hand hits his, it’ll all be over. You’ll be too flustered and wound up to do anything that might drive him out of his skull.

And you really want to. He’s spent the whole day lavishing affection and time and gifts on you, and now you want to repay the favor and drive him out of his mind. Just a little.

You wait until he reaches the part of the drive that isn’t too horribly twisty or bendy --making him less likely to outright reject what you’ve got planned--and go for it. You put your hand on his thigh --midway between his knee and his hip, nothing too conspicuous to start--and let your head rest against his shoulder with a happy sigh. “Tonight was... amazing, Piotr. I can’t believe you actually thought of all this.”

He chuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, I think on fairly regular basis.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you say with a snort. “But no, really. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forget tonight.”

“That was the idea.”

“Stop brushing everything off and let me thank you, dammit.”

He laughs, full on. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Well, I want to. Seriously, you made me feel like a princess today. Or, I dunno, some sort of waitress that’s being seduced by a Russian crime lord.”

And that’s definitely the wine talking, because you wouldn’t have told him that otherwise, and you have to take a minute to check to make sure you’re not hitting a nerve, with what his mom’s history is like.

He’s still smiling though, amused. “Oh, really?”

You bite your lower lip and slide your hand up his thigh, squeezing the thick muscle there. “Yeah. You’ve pretty well swept me off my feet, babe.”

He shifts a little in his seat, which is how you know that you’ve got his attention with the placement of your hand. “The night is still young, dorogoy.”

“Yeah.” You go in for the kill, sliding your hand up his thigh and over to his crotch. “It is.”

He inhales sharply as you start rubbing at his cock through the fabric of his slacks. “Myshka, what are you doing?”

“Making the most of the night.”

His hips flex a little and his teeth come together with an audible click. “Y/N--”

“Eyes on the road, Piotr. This is what you get for driving me nuts all night.” You rub your palm against his half-hard member --proof that his mind is right alongside yours in the gutter--then bring in your other hand into play to undo his belt buckle and start working at the button and zipper on his pants.

“What--”

“I’m gonna make you lose your damn mind, Piotr.” And, with that, you manage to free his cock from his pants and briefs and lean over to put your mouth around his tip.

You don’t take things slow. You know that roadhead is definitely one of those things that falls into the category of ‘dangerous, do not try’ for Piotr, and that if you want to have any sort of impact on him before he calls you off --because you won’t push it after he asks you to stop, you respect him too much for that--you need to move fast.

So you do just that. You work his cock over with your mouth, using one hand to hold him steady at the base while you lick, kiss, and suck him to full mast--

And he’s not stopping you.

Piotr.

Isn’t.

Stopping.

You.

He’s groaning, panting in his seat, gripping the wheel like he’s trying to strangle it, pressing his foot down harder against the gas pedal--

But he’s not asking you to stop.

Your thighs clench together and you moan around your mouthful of his dick when you realize just how fucked you’re gonna be when you get back to your hotel room.

He moans and reaches down with one hand to grasp at your hair --but he isn’t pulling you off. “Myshka--”

“Both hands on the wheel, Piotr.”

He obliges with a keening noise at the back of his throat.

Piotr Rasputin. The world’s most perfect boyfriend, gentleman extraordinare, and putty in your hands.

Mouth.

Whatever.

You keep going until his hand comes down on your shoulder and he’s saying something, voice so wrecked and accent so thick you can barely understand him--

“We’re almost at hotel.”

You release his cock, more than fully hard now, from your mouth with a pop and set about tucking him back in his briefs and pants and getting everything back in order. You don’t need any extra explanation to know that he doesn’t want to get caught doing this, and you’re happy to oblige him on that.

Give and take. The foundation of any good relationship.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into the parking garage connected to the hotel, and Piotr’s parking the car and turning the engine off--

--and then he’s kissing you, growling as his tongue swipes between your lips and into your mouth.

You moan and arch into the kiss, fingers digging into the edge of your seat. Your heart’s pounding in your chest in time with the desire throbbing between your legs, and you simper when one of his hands slides up your thigh, making the skirt of your dress ruck up around your hips.

Seduced and drunk on love, swept away in a torrent of passion. God, what a way to go.

“Maybe we should head up to our room,” you manage when he breaks the kiss. You shiver as his thumb rubs up and down the length of your neck and smile prettily at him. “As fun as this is, I don’t think I can squeeze into the front seat with you. You kinda take up a lot of space, big guy.”

He kisses you again, mouth hot and wet against yours. “As you wish, moya lyubov’.”

The two of you barely refrain from sprinting through the hotel lobby.

You do power walk, though, and between your excited smile and the fact that there’s no good way to hide the hard on Piotr’s sporting, you’re pretty sure the staff know full well what the two of you’ll be doing for the rest of the night.

The elevator the two of you get on is completely empty, and for a moment you wonder what’ll happen when the doors close--

--and then you don’t have to wonder anymore because the doors do close and Piotr practically yanks you against his chest and kisses you hard.

You cling to him, head spinning with delight. His sudden lack of control or care for keeping up appearances has you reeling the best ways possible.

(Part of you realizes that it’s because the two of you are alone, and there’s no chance of Wade or one of the students catching you, and God what is married life even going to be like if the two of you wind up getting a whole house to yourselves?)

And then your back’s pressed against one of the elevator walls and Piotr’s mouth is on your neck.

You arch into him, run your fingers through his hair as he runs his tongue over the length of your neck, gasp his name when his hands skim down your back to cup your ass--

And then the elevator stops and the door opens to let on a handful of other passengers.

You let out a little yelp and giggle out apologies as you get a mixture of eyerolls and faintly amused smiles and move your hands to Piotr’s chest.

Piotr, for his part, just kisses your hair and moves his hands to your arms. He doesn’t turn away from you or even acknowledge the other people in the elevator --probably to save himself from melting with embarrassment.

You let your head rest against his chest, thrill of the moment ebbing into mildly embarrassed contentment. You let your eyes close as he rubs gentle circles against your shoulder, lightly massaging the muscle there, and just bask in his love for you.

And then the doors open again on your floor, and it’s back on.

The two of you laugh as you dart down the hall to your room. You’re pressed between the door and him, mouthing at his neck as he fumbles with his wallet for the room key. He’s got one of his thighs between your legs, holding you up and pining you in place.

You’re like a couple of teenagers, borderline making out in the hallway because you want each other so bad you can’t wait to get to the bed.

Piotr manages to get the keycard into the slot on his second try, and he picks you up with one arm and carries you into the hotel room.

You giggle as the door schincks shut, grab onto the lapels of his jacket as he sets you down and kiss him as he walks you back towards the bed. You wobble on your heels, low as they are, and break away so you can kick them off properly. “Hang on. These aren’t helping anything.”

When you look back at him, Piotr’s gazing at you like a dying man seeing civilization for the first time in years. His eyes are impossibly soft as he studies your face, full of love and reverence.

You sigh, happy, when he cups the side of your face with one of his massive hands and lean into his touch.

“I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

“I love you more than anything too, Piotr.”

He presses his lips against yours once more, tender and gentle. He keeps kissing you as he moves his hands to your back, starting just above your ass and sliding them up to the collar of your dress. His fingers fidget with the zipper for a moment before he whispers a husky “May I?” against your lips.

The answer’s yes. The answer’s always yes.

You shiver against him as he slowly unzips your dress, goosebumps spreading across your skin as the dress falls into a pool of fabric around your feet, leaving you in your tights and underwear. You slide his jacket off his shoulders --and occupy yourself with undoing his tie when Piotr takes over so he can lay the jacket out neatly on the desk. You toss it across the room with an impish giggle, then focus on unbuttoning his shirt when he sighs.

“What is it with you and making messes?” he murmurs as he trails kisses down your cheek.

“What is it with you and organizing everything?”

He toes his shoes off --chuckles when you finish unbuttoning his shirt and toss it as far as you can, too--and slowly presses you back against the bed. “I guess we balance each other.”

“I’d say so.”

And you don’t say anything intelligible after that, because Piotr starts kissing your breasts and all coherent thought goes out of your mind.

You let out a soft sigh and arch your back off the bed so he can unclip your bra --and you promptly chuck it across the room.

He laughs. “Stop doing that.”

“Distract me better, then.”

It’s a challenge you know he’s more than capable of rising to.

His hands and mouth go to work, caressing and groping and licking and sucking at your breasts until your hips are rocking against the bed.

You whine as he gently teases one of your nipples with his tongue while tweaking the other between his forefinger and thumb. You thread your fingers through his hair, wriggling lower as you do, and gasp when you grind against his crotch.

He’s hard and straining against his dress pants, and he groans as he rocks his hips back against yours. “Bozhe moi --lyublyu…”

You wrap your legs around his hips as he starts grinding against you in earnest, mouth sucking a scattering of hickeys across your breasts. You clutch at his back, dig your nails in when he rubs against you just right. “Fuck.”

Piotr moves his mouth to your neck, but his hands move downwards until his fingers reach the stretchy waistband of your tights. He hooks his fingers around the elastic material --and then he’s sitting back and rolling the tights down your legs.

You yank your legs out of the tights and wriggle out of your underwear as fast as you can. “Pants off. Underwear, too.”

He chuckles as he shifts off the bed and starts working at his belt. “Impatient.”

“So what?” You crawl towards him and tug at his pants as he slides the belt out of the last loop. “Hurry up.”

He laughs softly and widens his stance a little to keep you from yanking his pants off. “Wait --wait. We need--” he retrieves a condom from one of his pockets “--we’ll be needing this.”

“Don’t care.” You tug at his pants until they’re halfway down his thighs, then straighten up on your knees and start kissing a trail up his chest.

“Y/N--”

“Fucking whatever, Piotr, just get undressed already!” You bite down --not too hard, but enough to prove your point--on the muscle between his neck and shoulder.

He growls --actually growls--and then he’s pushing you back against the mattress, nude, muscular body pressing against yours. “Patience.”

You squirm against him, trying to get any sort of relief for the ache between your legs. “No.”

He nips at your ear as one hand skins down your torso, towards where you both want it most. “You can do it.”

“The fuck I won’t--”

And then he’s sliding two fingers inside you and any complaints you might’ve had evaporate.

You moan as he curls his fingers against your g-spot and rock your hips against his hand. “Piotr!”

He chuckles. “Not complaining now, I see.”

You open your mouth to retort --and whine when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. You pant as he rubs circles over your sensitive nub in time with the movements of his fingers against your walls. “Oh --fuck--baby, I’m gonna--”

He shushes you gently, kissing your hairline with a tenderness that belies the utter sinfulness of what his fingers are doing. “Just enjoy it.”

And enjoy it you do, right up until the point --and past the point, to be clear--when your toes curl and your eyes roll into the back of your head and you climax with a groan.

Piotr slows his movements, working you through the aftershocks as you pant and gasp, only sliding his fingers out when you push weakly at his arm.

You open your eyes just in time to see him sucking your juices off his fingers and moan. “Piotr --baby--just fuck me. Please.”

“What if I would rather make love to you?”

“I don’t care! Just get your dick in me ASAP!”

The two of you pause, and then you both start laughing.

You nuzzle your face against Piotr’s neck as he slumps on top of you, body shaking with laughter. “Did I really just say that?”

“Da.” He kisses your cheek. “You are… so ridiculous, myshka. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Piotr.” You arch your back as he presses his lips against yours, relishing the way your chest goes flush against his. Your hands skim up the planes of back, holding him to you as he thoroughly plunders your mouth with his tongue.

God, you love this. You love the way he kisses you, the way his body presses against yours, the way--

“I should probably put this on,” he says with a laugh and a vague gesture with the condom as he breaks the kiss. “Before we get carried away.”

You laugh with him and sit up. “Yeah. Here --let me.” You rip the foil packet open, then pause to wrap your hand around the shaft of his cock.

He’s already completely hard, but going the extra mile never hurt anyone.

You give him a few pumps, relishing the way he groans and jerks into your hand, then push at his chest. “Roll over.” You straddle his thighs when he does and carefully roll the condom over his cock. When you look up halfway through and realize he’s watching you, desire burning in his eyes, you duck your head bashfully. “Like what you see?”

“Always.”

You take the hand he holds out to you once you’re done putting the condom on him and let him help you get positioned. You can feel the head of his cock brushing your folds, prodding at your entrance--

And then you’re sinking onto him, and he’s filling you up, and everything else in the world other than the two of you and what you’re doing right here, right now ceases to be of any importance.

You whimper at the feeling of him, the stretch, the exquisite fullness, and rock your hips against his. “Piotr--”

His hands come up to grasp your hips, holding you tight but not stopping you. “Slow. Go slow.”

“Yeah --sure,” you pant as you plant your hands against his chest and --slowly--start to ride him. You take your time --you’ve got nothing else you need to do, other than him--and savor every inch of him, every shift of your walls against his member, every gasp and groan that leaves his lips.

You’ve got all night, just for the two of you. No obligations, no distractions. Just this room, this bed, and whatever the fuck the two of you feel like doing.

He moans underneath you, hips rolling up to meet yours as you pace quickens ever so slightly, and slides his hands back to grope at your ass. “Khorosho?”

Good?

You can’t help but smile; he always has to make sure you’re alright, that you’re enjoying yourself. You nod. “Yeah. You good?”

By way of answer, he lifts one hand to the back of your head and pulls you down for a kiss.

It’s a little awkward, given your height differences; he slides halfway out of you in the process, and you can’t really get him all the way back in your current position. You giggle a little --because it’s ridiculous and kinda funny, really--and brace one hand against his chest so you can reposition yourself and keep moving, as it were--

Piotr’s hold on the back of your head tightens, his other hand slides to the small of your back, and his hips snap up against yours. Hard.

Oh.

The hand of yours that’s not on his chest grips the pillow next to his head when he does it again, and you moan when he does it a third time--

And then the bed starts shaking as he starts doing it in earnest, pumping in and out of you in deep, even, strokes.

Well, if that’s what he wants to do, you’re not gonna stop him.

You squeeze your eyes shut and rock your hips back against his thrusts as best you can. He’s skimming your g-spot with each movement of his cock inside you; not enough to fully turn on the pleasure, but plenty to wind up you up and drive you completely insane.

His mouth is hot against your jaw and neck, and he’s murmuring --and occasionally groaning--a nonstop string of Russian against your skin. “Ty takaya krasivaya ... kazhdyy raz, kogda ya smotryu na tebya, moye serdtse bolit…”

You grit your teeth together and whine as the shaft of his cock just barely rubs against your g-spot for the umpteenth time. “Piotr --baby, please--”

He lets you up when you push against his chest this time, eyes burning as he watches you, steadies you, helps you get repositioned.

You tip your head back and moan, a mixture of pleasure and relief at finally getting pressure and friction right where you want it, as you start bouncing up and down on his cock. You grab his hands when they grip your hips and relocate them to your chest.

He takes the none-too-subtle hint with zero complaining and starts groping at your breasts, caressing and squeezing them before focusing on your nipples.

You gasp as a soft thrum of pleasure courses through you and nearly fall --not that he’d let you, he’ll always catch you. You brace yourself against his chest even harder, arching against his hands while your hips keep working against his.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build in the slow tightening of your core, in the urgency that’s buzzing underneath the pleasure. You pant as you roll your hips harder, faster, feeling sweat drip down your back.

For all your working out, you don’t quite have your boyfriend’s stamina --at least, not when it comes to doing all the heavy moving.

You barely have to gasp out two words before he’s taking care of you, holding your hips to his as he rolls so that you’re on your back and he’s positioned above you. Before he can start moving though, you swing your legs up so your calves are braced against his shoulders.

You’re flexible enough. You can handle it.

He groans when you say as much, face flushed and expression utterly debauched, and he shifts the two of you down the bed before letting more of his weight bear down on you, pressing your knees against your chest and effectively pinning you against the bed. Then, he adjusts his hips and slides all the way in.

You groan and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You thought you were full before, but clearly you were wrong. You completely stuffed now, filled to the brim and whatever other euphemisms erotica writers use to convey being full past the point of reason and believability. You could float away of the sensation, the satisfaction alone, completely lost to the world save for the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock buried deep inside you--

And, without fail, Piotr brings you back down to earth.

A simple kiss to the forehead is all it takes, and you’re back in the hotel room, back with him, able to hear what he’s saying--

“Khorosho?”

Good?

God help you, you love this man so much.

You nod, still too out of breath to make forming words a feasible goal.

He smiles softly, kisses you gently on the bridge of your nose --and snaps his hips against yours with a lack of hesitation that can only be described as ruthless.

You moan loudly as he starts taking you in earnest, then whine when you realize you can’t arch your back or writhe against him in this position. You’re utterly pinned down, completely at his mercy as he pumps himself in and out of you; even with your hands free, there’s not much you can do or reach, definitely not enough to distract from the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you.

You’re here to do one thing and one thing only: take.

You’re moaning with each thrust now, gasping as he works you towards your climax without hesitation or doubt. All you have to focus on is the pleasure you’re feeling.

It’s completely overwhelming. Too much despite the fact that you haven’t actually come yet. You’re drowning in it, going insane from it, choking on it as you take your boyfriend’s cock over and over and over and over…

What a fucking way to go --pun intended.

You let out a high-pitched mewl as he speeds up. You can tell he’s close from the way he’s swearing in Russian and gripping your hips; he’s quite the picture of focus, actually, mouth open and lips pulled back over his teeth as he tries to reign himself in, tries to get you off first.

Ever the fucking gentleman --pun intended again.

And then one of his thumbs is rubbing against your clit, and it’s all over.

You scream his name as you climax --noise complaints be damned, you can’t be assed to give a shit right now--and clutch at the bedspread as hard as you can. Your orgasm sweeps through you in waves, cresting and ebbing again and again--

And then he’s coming too, albeit quieter than you did. He groans your name and presses his hips flush against yours, rocking against you as he rides out his own orgasm.

The room goes silent, save for the sound of your mutually labored breathing.

And then he’s sliding out of you and collapsing next to you on the bed, seemingly as fucked out as you are.

You stretch with a groan and take a few deep breaths as you come down from it all. Your cunt’s still twitching from your release, but you find it in yourself to push through the haze of the afterglow and roll over to face him.

He’s already reaching for you, arms curling around your body and pulling you in so he can shield you with his warmth and love. He kisses the top of your head and pushes the errant locks of hair away from your face, smoothing them as he goes.

You let out a shaky breath, then sling an arm around his neck and kiss his cheek. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, dorogoy.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

He huffs a gentle laugh. “It certainly is.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #piotr rasputin x reader smut #this is so fluffy your teeth are gonna rot and fall out #tw: alcohol mention #tw: moderately unsafe driving #piotr spoils you rotten #x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

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rosies-batim-blog · 6 years

Text

Android Henry Chat

This is the chat that outlined most of the ideas for the Android Henry AU and while a number of little details have stayed the same, a lot of them have also been changed.

If you want to know what’s changed, what’s stayed the same, or want to see a particular scene/idea drawn up, let me know!!!

Rose-cut Strawberry: I know this channel was probably more for RP crossovers, and I don't know much about the game Connorbot came from, but this idea for an AU of some form is really appealing to me.

http://doberart.tumblr.com/post/176386160693/this-was-the-first-idea-that-came-to-mind-for-a

https://amazingaliah.tumblr.com/post/178072662434/just-a-little-batim-and-dbh-crossover

I really like the questioning of what makes someone "human" in stories with Cyborgs or Androids. Best examples, all Megaman comics/manga and the many versions of the Cyborg 009 series Even if we don't play with this as an RP, can we play with it as an AU?? Henry being and Android, but still being the Creator for the Toons?

Adopt-A-Fusion: that would be fun

Rose-cut Strawberry: Yeah, I want to talk more about this (and learn a bit more about the Detroit Androids in the process) so can we talk about it?

Adopt-A-Fusion: maybe after work or tomorrow, gotta lotta other stuff to juggle atm

Rose-cut Strawberry: kk @anyone I know Mango finds this idea interesting, anyone else?

❤'s The Heart: I like it!

Rose-cut Strawberry: I still wanna brainstorm this but I Mango isn't on yet and I don't know enough about Cyberlife Androids to start by myself.

❤'s The Heart: Yeah same ^^;

Rose-cut Strawberry: I read the wiki article for Cyberlife, but it mostly talked about the company. Holy shit, Conner can die a lot in his game. And for a lot of different reasons I have no words for that.

❤'s The Heart: Well then

Rose-cut Strawberry: I’m reading the wiki and holy shit can he die a lot. There are, like, four different ways he can die in just the first chapter

Adopt-A-Fusion: cyberlife androids are basically walking talking amazon alexas. i recommend watching gameplay of the game to do research, jacksepticeye had a great run

❤'s The Heart: I keep meaning to ^^;

Rose-cut Strawberry: One thing I want to see is Henry completely missing the social/emotional cue for something and needing to have it explained to him.

❤'s The Heart: You just described me and that sounds adorable

Rose-cut Strawberry: For one idea for this; Henry being a Deviant and having to leave the country to escape being deactivated as why he left the studio. Like, possibly Joey hiring/commissioning him from Cyberlife as an extra animator. Which is actually the starting point of the studio's financial problems, but Joey had thought the amount he could get Henry to work would make up for the amount of money spent to get him.

Adopt-A-Fusion: hhhhhyes

❤'s The Heart: PRECIOUS ROBOT MAN

Rose-cut Strawberry: But then he finds out Henry can actually be creative and decided he can exploit that since Henry can't actually be treated as a 'human' in terms of the legal jargon at the time.

❤'s The Heart: D: poor boy

Rose-cut Strawberry: But then Henry starts Deviating from his original programming limits (which made him 'friendly' but stunted in terms of interacting with his co-workers, good at running animation programs, and in possession of rather generic animation skills of his own) such as developing deeper connections with the humans in the studio, and even coming to understand that Joey is using him. But, as an Android, there isn't really anything he can do. Until he reaches the point where he does something that flys in the face of his programming.

❤'s The Heart: :0!! I LOVE THIS!!!

Rose-cut Strawberry: One of the things Androids aren't supposed to be able to do (generally) is fight or use weapons, so I want to say a fight of some kind happens and instead of sitting back and doing nothing, Henry ends up getting involved.

Adopt-A-Fusion: Henry being a custom made Android

❤'s The Heart: If conspiracy theorist Shawn was in this AU he would think Henry was human. He acts like everyone else is making crazy theories for once What would that entail?

Rose-cut Strawberry: No, everyone is told from that start that Henry's an Android. The thing on his temple would make it kind of obvious. Shawn would be trying to figure out why Joey wanted and Android.

Adopt-A-Fusion: consider Henry being sort of a prototype for a speciality-type android, meaning a higher chance of programming errors and a greater chance of deviancy

Rose-cut Strawberry: Oooo~ I like that idea

❤'s The Heart: I still find the idea funny. Maybe Shawn was out sick on Henry's first day. He thinks Henry is just another employee

Rose-cut Strawberry: Then he spots the glowing circle on Henry's temple and is like "Holy shit"

Adopt-A-Fusion: and he's told "oh, we got a new Android" and he just starts theorizing that everyone but Henry is an android in disguise

Rose-cut Strawberry: pfft Or "Drew is gonna replace us all with Androids!"

❤'s The Heart: Half of what's funny about him is he's oblivious as fuck. He doesn't notice for months After ages of theorizing, he's talking to Henry about it and Henry points it out Shawn becoming really good friends with Henry while he thinks he's a human, or at least he considers them good friends, even if Henry's programming doesn't exactly allow him to make connections to the employees just yet

Rose-cut Strawberry: “What are you talking about Mr Flynn? I've always been an Android."

Adopt-A-Fusion: awwwwww yes

Rose-cut Strawberry: He's just "Is there anything else I can help you with Mr Flynn?"

❤'s The Heart: Shawn rambles at him all the time. He just thinks Henry is a good listener

Rose-cut Strawberry: Though, if we go with the "No one notices he's an Android" route, it could be that Shawn finds out Henry isn't getting paid and hunts down Grant to find out why their best animator isn't getting his damn checks. And then that's how everyone finds out.

❤'s The Heart: Shawn helps him escape when he has to leave the studio

Rose-cut Strawberry: YES The fight, Henry gets involved when someone breaks into the studio while he and a few other employees are staying late.

❤'s The Heart: Where does Henry go when the studio is closed?

Rose-cut Strawberry: Oh, erm... Let's just go with Joey making a living space in the studio. (I don't think he'd pay to get Henry an apartment, and there was nothing in the Wiki's about Androids having their own places to live) anyways, someone breaks in and turns out to be pretty violent when he finds out he's not alone.

❤'s The Heart: :0

Rose-cut Strawberry: Henry gets dismissed because his uniform marks him as an android and therefore a non-threat, but Grant (the guy running financing and probably in possession of the keys to the safe), Shawn, and Norman are a very different story. So the fight breaks out, and the thief is armed which makes him dangerous

❤'s The Heart: Shawn gets hit pretty bad and something just snaps and Henry attacks the thief

Rose-cut Strawberry: Henry lashes out with a 2x4 and conks the guy upside the head. HARD

❤'s The Heart: Later Shawn jokes around saying how good a friend Henry is if he'd override his programming for him

Rose-cut Strawberry: Probably But, defence of another human or no, Henry still deviated from his programming and attacked a human. But it gets convoluted from there. On one hand; he saved someone's life On another; He attacked someone

❤'s The Heart: Poor guy :(

Rose-cut Strawberry: And he panics a little (again, not something an Android should be capable of) because Deviating can lead to Deactivation

❤'s The Heart: Save him

Rose-cut Strawberry: That's kind of what Shawn and the others end up doing. They help get things in order for Henry to leave the country for one with less stringent laws towards Androids.

❤'s The Heart: Comfort the robot

Rose-cut Strawberry: Joey only finds out what happened after the fact. By then Joey has noticed that Henry was becoming a Deviant but never did anything about it because he was getting even better work out of him. And he is not happy when he finds out Henry has left. But he would have been just as displeased if Cyberlife had Deactivated him. Joey gets curious about just how human Androids are becoming, and that leads into the magic stuff (but possibly more cyberpunk than in-game)

❤'s The Heart: Ooo

Rose-cut Strawberry: Henry flounders for a good long while, since he's so used to having orders and jobs, and isn't really sure of what to do with himself. I supposed this could be when Linda shows up for sure, who can be a graphic designer looking for help. She doesn't expect an Android to be one of her applicants but finds he's actually pretty good and gives him the job.

❤'s The Heart: Aww :)

Rose-cut Strawberry: Fast forward 20 to 30 years and Henry gets the Letter (and yes, it needs to be capitalized)

❤'s The Heart: Of course, it does! It's important

Rose-cut Strawberry: Henry is feeling safe enough to come back (laws and policies have changed), so he decides he's overdue for a visit to his friends if they still live near the studio. The studio had closed down due to debt and "mysterious circumstances" but he thought that at least a few of his old coworkers probably still lived in the area. He has no idea what he's walking into

❤'s The Heart: D’:

Rose-cut Strawberry: MANGO WHAT DO YOU THINK SO FAR?

❤'s The Heart: this is so goooood

Adopt-A-Fusion: I LOVE IT

Rose-cut Strawberry: YAY I fully admit that I picture the aesthetic being a lot like Doberart's Rise of Bendy AU f*ck, I don't know how to continue Seriously I don't know how to continue, someone give me an idea. Please

❤'s The Heart: Sorry ^^;

Rose-cut Strawberry: Here's a thought, how do the rest of the staff feel about their Android coworker? What do you guys think?

Adopt-A-Fusion: some people are probably indifferent, at least one person is a dick about it

Rose-cut Strawberry: Possibly two of them. I want Bertrum to be one, he just very set in treating Henry as a machine or an appliance. Wally kinda likes him, because if he asks Henry is willing to help him out with stuff.

❤'s The Heart: Ooo yes

Rose-cut Strawberry: What about others, we already decided Shawn likes him

❤'s The Heart: Sammy is indifferent

Rose-cut Strawberry: Yes, he doesn't mind the Android, but he doesn't hate him either. He just focusses on his work Pre-Deviant; there are a lot of coworkers who are indifferent because they find androids unsettling but have no real reason to hate them.

❤'s The Heart: Wally is one of those at first, but Henry grows on him

Rose-cut Strawberry: Like I said, he comes to like him because Henry is always willing to help when asked. What about Susie? Or Thomas? Or even Norman?

❤'s The Heart: Thomas is indifferent. He's indifferent about everyone Norman likes him

Rose-cut Strawberry: Any ideas for Susie?

Adopt-A-Fusion: I don’t know :(

Rose-cut Strawberry: Norman thinks he's a nice guy, even if he's an android. They chat with each other at times. Thomas sees him as a machine, but he generally likes machines, so he treats Henry about the same as he treats normal people. But he also makes sure the studio is stocked with stuff to help Henry if he gets injured or needs to refill his "blood" levels (they have a term for the special blue fluids used for android blood but I can't remember it right now) Susie... Let's go with her mostly avoiding Henry.

❤'s The Heart: She's a bit creeped out

Rose-cut Strawberry: Like the fact that he doesn't emote as much as a human bothers her, but she doesn't really hate him or be rude. So she tries to just avoid him. Which is fairly easy since they work in different sections of the studio. Grant has a stronger dislike of Henry, but it's not as much about him being an android and more because of how much Joey ended up using of the studio's budget to buy him. But the way he treats is more Begrudging then honestly hostile. Eventually, he appreciates having Henry around when the android offers to help him with paperwork (computer brains are helpful for long and complicated math equations) Should Allison be working at the studio at this time? Not as Alice's Voice Actor but maybe just another female voice actor at the studio?

❤'s The Heart: Sure, why not I love the stuff with Grant

Rose-cut Strawberry: Allison is one of those people who finds androids fascinating. Like, with how close they can emulate humans She goes out of her way to talk to Henry, sometimes throwing out non-sequesters just to see how he'll respond. She supports the idea of Androids getting more rights but is quiet about it since it's not a very popular opinion.

❤'s The Heart: Shawn asks him questions all the time about being an android

Rose-cut Strawberry: A lot of them boil down to "I don't really know, that's just how I was programmed" or "You would have to check Cyberlife's policies for that." A lot of employees are of the opinion that Henry is a good robo-boy. A lot of them are mostly indifferent towards Android, but Henry's programming results in him growing on them after a while.

❤'s The Heart: More than half of the employees: PROTECC

Rose-cut Strawberry: I don't know about more than half, but definitely a good percentage of them don't want bad things to happen to their android

❤'s The Heart; A good percentage of the employees: PROTECC

Rose-cut Strawberry: I want to say Henry gets hurt at least once in the studio, enough to end up spooking the others pretty bad.

❤'s The Heart: YES

Rose-cut Strawberry: @Adopt-A-Fusion We need a scenario for an injured Android Animator, and ideas?

Adopt-A-Fusion: nope

Rose-cut Strawberry: drat.

❤'s The Heart: An accident of some sort

Rose-cut Strawberry: Yes, but the question is what? There's no ink machine at that time, otherwise, I'd say something involving the equipment for it.

❤'s The Heart: a pipe exploding maybe Not like an ink pipe, just a regular one

Rose-cut Strawberry: Or a falling project- no, tech's different the projectors would be too light to do any serious damage. Wait, Bertrum's here He uses major equipment for the theme park stuff. (he has too)

❤'s The Heart: Yes!

Rose-cut Strawberry: So maybe something comes loose when Henry is dragged off to help with something and hits him. It doesn't do enough to "kill" him, but it ends up doing some pretty heavy damage. Which takes another huge chunk from the Studio's finances, but everyone who actually likes Henry is too worried about the android's condition to be too bothered by it. Grant is worried too, but also rips into Bertrum because "What if that had been a human employee?! It would have killed them! Do you have any idea what a lawsuit would have done to us?!"

❤'s The Heart: Poor Hen needs repairs

Rose-cut Strawberry: That's where Lacie becomes really helpful (previously she treated Henry like he was a person who just had trouble connecting with people), she knows all the technical jargon to get the shit that’s needed to fix Henry and what to do to get him stable while they waited for it to be ready.

❤'s The Heart: :D

Rose-cut Strawberry: A lot of the employees tear into Bertrum, since the accident was due to him lapsing in safety protocols, which means anyone who had been at the sight had been at risk of being injured. And androids could take more damage then a human, so if Henry was that injured, it would have been outright lethal to a human. Can we talk more about the relationship between Joey and Android Hen

❤'s The Heart: YES PLEASE

Rose-cut Strawberry: I don't really know where to go with that, other than needing the relationship between the two to seem well enough (to Henry) to justify Joey writing "Your old pal" in the letter, while still leaving him scummy enough to justify disliking him. Henry didn't become a deviant because he was being abused by his... Owner (i guess), he became one because he was ready and willing to protect his coworkers who had (probably) been slowly affecting his programming by just treating him like a person and encouraging him to be more like them.

❤'s The Heart: :)

Rose-cut Strawberry: I need an idea for shit that would seem nice to an Android, but be seen as really deceitful/scummy to a human.

❤'s The Heart: I suppose being given a place to live, but it's just like a closet or something

Rose-cut Strawberry: A former storage room in the studio. (so literally never leaves the studio)

❤'s The Heart: Yep Poor guy :(

Rose-cut Strawberry: But he doesn't know any better, because he's an Android that's basically fresh out of the shop and Joey is the one who purchased him and is, therefore, his "owner" He's literally a "possession" in the eyes of the law. But Joey doesn't really treat him badly. Like how people can get attached to their stuff (like Roombas) and treat them like little people while still seeing them as a possession. Henry gets treated fairly well, but not really as a person.

❤'s The Heart: More like a cute little pet, or a child

Rose-cut Strawberry: Pretty much, yeah.

❤'s The Heart: The fact that the employees treat him differently is a bit confusing to him

Rose-cut Strawberry: He is very confused by it. But does his best to keep working.

❤'s The Heart: Eventually, he starts to realize he likes how the employees treat him more

Rose-cut Strawberry: But just the fact that he was making those choices showed that he was starting to deviate. Android's aren't supposed to feel anything. 'Pain' was the only exception since it warned if something in their systems was damaged, but even then it only showed up if they actually were hurt.

❤'s The Heart: Hence why it takes him a while to start feeling that way To start feeling at all

Rose-cut Strawberry: It starts with him doing something because he wants to. A very minor thing that Joey never really noticed or paid attention to at the time. Like Ooo~ Like putting a Cutout in the corner he works in. He has no real reason for it. He just wants it there. Joey thinks he's using it as a spare reference, or to make his desk seem more comfortable to other workers. But no. It's there because he decided he wanted it there.

❤'s The Heart: PRECIOUS BOY

Rose-cut Strawberry: He amasses a collection of knickknacks from around the studio. A broken/improperly made clock he decided to fix

❤'s The Heart: A magpie robot

Rose-cut Strawberry: A plush toy that was accidentally made the wrong color (or a prototype/concept toy Shawn may have given him) Yes, he basically starts out as a Magpie Those are the signs of him becoming Deviant. But they're so... not noticeable

❤'s The Heart: Hhhh i need to watch this gaaame

Rose-cut Strawberry: No one even realizes it's happening

❤'s The Heart: Not even Henry

Rose-cut Strawberry: Henry has at least one toy of Bendy, Boris, and Alice; A trio of Butcher Gang toys (since Joey scrapped the idea of making official toys of them); a couple posters where the images and colors were offset during printing; the clock... OH, the others notice the slight magpie-ness, but they think it's something closer to "Make sure things are kept for the future" Shawn is the only one thinking he's becoming Deviant. It's the only time he's ever been right. He brings in a fold-up bookcase thingy so that Henry can display some of his knickknacks. Shawn gets it as a present during Christmas or something.

❤'s The Heart: Aww :') Consider: the employees treating Henry's first day as his birthday

Rose-cut Strawberry: No, they ask him what day he was actually activated and that becomes his birthday.

❤'s The Heart: Yes!! Presents for the boy!! Shawn is the first one to see him smile and he teases him about how cute it is for a week

Rose-cut Strawberry: No one who wants to get him a gift is sure what to give, and Shawn ends up 'leading the charge' so to speak. Henry just sort of blinks at the teasing at first because he doesn't really know what embarrassment is.

❤'s The Heart: He gets lots of little knickknacks

Rose-cut Strawberry: Weird thought for Shawn to ask when he sees Henry drinking Thirium (the blue stuff that's basically blood for androids) Shawn; "So... Do androids count as some kind of weird-arse techno vampires then? I mean, technically speaking, you're basically drinking your own blood." Henry; "I... Am not sure how to answer that. This is just how I top off the levels of Thirium in my body."

❤'s The Heart: Their friendship is the greatest it makes me so happy QuQ

Rose-cut Strawberry: It's kinda like Shawn and Toon!Wally's tbh Only without the psycho-vivisecting Joey.

❤'s The Heart: Yes!

Rose-cut Strawberry: Wally asks questions like to. Once he gets used to Henry, he's actually really curious about how he works. Wally; "So, since yer blood is blue, does that mean you if could blush, yer face would turn blue-tinted?" Henry; "Possibly. Though, as an Android, there really isn't anything in my systems that would cause an irregularity in my thirium levels that would equate to a 'blush', as you call it.." (Sorry androids seem to be science-sy and formal in their speech/answers so I keep having to take a moment to think about how, exactly, Henry would respond.) For the longest time, Henry doesn't understand sarcasm. He answers everything with complete seriousness.

❤'s The Heart: I love how he talks It's adorable

Rose-cut Strawberry: Ooo~ Idea He learns how to recognize and understand sarcasm from Sammy. Just by listening and watching him.

❤'s The Heart: Yes absolutely He never quite understands it entirely

Rose-cut Strawberry: Oh, there's an idea, Android Henry is one of those non-Cyberlife Androids. Which means he was/could have meant that he was more likely to deviate than any Cyberlife Androids.

❤'s The Heart: Oh neat Joey wanted an android, Grant said they couldn't afford it, their compromise was getting a knock-off

Rose-cut Strawberry: But it still took a big chunk out of their budget.

Goof Noir: I JUST READ THIS I LOVE IT SM

Rose-cut Strawberry: Thank you!

❤'s The Heart: :D :D

Rose-cut Strawberry: Deep breath The more I think about it, the more the idea of Henry being an Android could actually fit the game. Like, in the game, Henry seems to always need to have a mission/task of some kind as he goes. And he keeps count of all the tasks given to him (like the gears and ink globs) And he has little notifications when he completes tasks, even without Alice talking to him. I know those are all just normal game mechanics, but they could be incorporated into an Android really easily.

❤'s The Heart: :0 I love it

Rose-cut Strawberry: And Henry being able to "see" missing machinery/piping/etc fits for that kind of 'construction" stuff appearing. Pre/Reconstruction. that's what I meant. More thoughts on Android Henry, it actually causes a certain amount of sense with Henry's "deaths" in game. All of the magic is built around humans, which he is not. So while he is affected by the ink it can't actually get hold over him like everyone else.

❤'s The Heart: Ooooo

Rose-cut Strawberry: The ink is like "What is this?? Is it person?? Is it thing?? Should I be trying to take this or should I be making shit like it???" (BC the ink seems to be able to actually create inanimate things/non-organic things just fine) Like the pipes and the radios and such. It only seems to have trouble making "living" things. And Android Henry, by the definition given by Joey, was not a "Living" thing.

❤'s The Heart: :0

Rose-cut Strawberry: Well, he's not made with flesh and blood; he doesn't have the organs found in humans and animals; he doesn't really need to sleep or eat (even if he goes into rest/sleep mode every once in a while to save power/kill time); he doesn't have any bone or cartilage in his make-up He's about as far from the make-up of his coworkers and the toons as one can get. Even if his appearance is hardly different from others. I kinda want to talk more about Android Henry, or even start writing for it, but I don't know what to talk about/start with...

❤'s The Heart: Same :( I wish I had ideas

Adopt-A-Fusion: id contribute but brain doesn’t want to dbh

Rose-cut Strawberry: It doesn't have to be strictly dbh, it could just be ideas for how the story would start out. I'd say the story would start after Henry got the actual letter, with the past stuff being done as flashbacks or stories. I feel like it would be best for Henry to have some kind of companion for this story... I would love to talk more about the Android Henry AU, but I have no idea what to do about it.

❤'s The Heart: Joey just... Shopping around for bootlegs is amazing

Rose-cut Strawberry: Hey guys, remember Android Henry? I DREW HIM

❤'s The Heart: I’VE MISSED HIM

Adopt-A-Fusion: Good boy

Rose-cut Strawberry: He's wearing his android jacket, but he ripped off/removed all the decals and such from it.

❤'s The Heart: I wish we could talk more about his au but I don't know much about dbh (other than apparently people hate it now??) and I don't have any ideas

Rose-cut Strawberry: So? Who cares if we don't know shit about it, doesn't mean we can't play in the sandbox anyway. Besides, that's what reading Wikipedia synopsizes is for.

❤'s The Heart: Oh that's very true

Rose-cut Strawberry: Hnnnn... I ideas for stuff to draw for Android Henry, anyone have any? @here Any have suggestions? I really want to make more art to show this AU off.

❤'s The Heart: I’m sorry I don't ^^; Sorry I meant to reply to this yesterday

Rose-cut Strawberry: Is okay. If something occurs to you, feel free to mention it.

#batim #batim au #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the ink machine au #android henry au #dbh inspired au #rosie's chats #liliflower137 #lepetiteinkmango #snippy-snapps

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onemuseleft · 6 years

Note

for the au meme, if you’re still taking prompts: stevetony as hosts of a tv show

This is 50% inspired by Sports Night and 50% inspired by Robin from HIMYM. I amused myself way too much wrtiting this, I’m gonna be honest with you. Hopefully you will get at least a fraction as much amusement reading it as I did writing it. :)

****

Tony looked straight into the camera and smiled as saccharine a smile as he could manage when he was still barely able to keep his eyes open. “Welcome back to It’s too Fucking Early for This Oh My God New York Go the Fuck Back to Bed.”

“Tony,” Steve said from the other side of the anchor desk. “Don’t swear in front of the audience. You never know who could be watching.”

“Steve, it’s four-thirty in the morning and the ratings show that we typically have six viewers, two of whom are in men’s prisons and one of whom is your mother.” He raised his coffee cup to the camera. “Hi, Sarah!”

“Then don’t fucking swear in front of my mom, Tony, for fuck’s sake.” Steve smirked at the camera and ignored their producer, Sam Wilson, as he bitched them both out over their ear pieces. “Hi, mom. Anyway, as we probably should have already said by now: It’s time to Get Up and Go, New York!” He paused for a moment with his hand out and sincerely hoped they remembered to put the graphics up this time so he didn’t look like a complete idiot. “I’m Steve Rogers-”

“And I’m not wearing any pants,” Tony said as he took a long gulp of his coffee.

Steve turned his head a little, just enough to get a glimpse of the shiny red silk of Tony’s favorite pair of boxers, then turned to the camera with an easy smile. “He’s really not. Announcements like this may be why thirty percent of our viewers are incarcerated felons, we’ll have to look into that. In the meantime, we have a great show in store for you today. At the top of the news, an Amber Alert for two-year-old Anna May Watson-Parker was called off late last evening after the little girl was found to have somehow crawled onto the roof of her family’s apartment building. She was unharmed and reportedly only wanted to pet the pigeons. Thank goodness,” he added and Tony pulled his face out of his coffee long enough to echo him. “Hell’s Kitchen has reports of a vigilante calling himself The Barrister. So far there are three reported cases of a masked man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, who interrupts purse-snatchings and muggings to lecture the would-be criminals on how expensive their legal fees will be when they get caught. So far no one has been hurt and one precinct is even reporting that The Barrister convinced someone to turn themselves in.”

“Doing more than the cops are,” Tony said. “Good on you, Barrister. Please do not get shot, that would suck. Also, I think the American healthcare system is even more prohibitively expensive than our legal one, so please take a page out of your own book there.”

“After the break we’ll also have our guest, Robert Drake, author of the New York Times bestselling LGBTQIA mystery series The Ice-Man Cometh, and celebrity chefs Thor Odinson and James Logan will show up how to make a dish from their upcoming new cookbook called “All You Need is a Fire: Cooking Like Real Men. All this, and our new intern Kamala Khan will be presenting today’s item on our ongoing segment Sixty Things You Never Knew You Didn’t Know About New York.” Steve flashed a bright smile at the camera. “And since Jim Rhodes is off sick today, you’ll get to see me and Tony cover the sports segment while trying desperately to pretend like we care about any sport that isn’t baseball. Back after these commercials.”

“I hate both of you,” Sam said over the intercom as soon as they cut to commercial.

Tony blew a kiss toward the sound room. “You’d be bored without us!”

“Why aren’t you wearing pants?” Steve asked even though he knew better.

Tony shrugged. “I was running late this morning.”

“We drove in together.”

“Yeah, but then I fell asleep in the bathroom and Jan said I could have pants or make-up.” Tony shrugged and flashed Steve a grin. “No one can see my ass but you and I know you don’t have any complaints.”

“If you flash New York, I’m going to be annoyed with you,” Steve said.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tony leered at him over the top of his coffee mug. “New York gets an eyeful of The Starkster and your inner caveman goes all wild. You’d have to show everyone who I belonged to so you’d barely wait till the cameras were off before you dragged me off to an empty conference room-”

“Do I have to send you two to another sexual harassment seminar?” Sam demanded.

“I’m only harassing Steve, and he likes it.”

“Not at work, Tony, for the love of god, the interns can hear this. We’re back in ten.”

“I will say that you not having any pants on does make things much more convenient for me,” Steve said brightly. He flashed Tony a wide smile, ignored Sam’s exasperated sigh and turned that smile back on the camera. “Welcome back! Tony still isn’t wearing any pants, and everyone here is really excited about that. Before we bring on our guests, we have a caller on the line for our City Culture segment, where we take calls from everyday New Yorkers like you, who call in to let us know about current events, neighborhood news and local fads. Caller, are you with us?”

“Hi, Steve, hi Tony.”

Tony sat up in his chair, mouth curved in a wide grin. “Jan! How’s my favorite fashionista?”

“Tired, Tony, this is obscene. I thought you did a morning show.”

“I mean, technically it is morning.”

“Hoda and Savannah don’t make me get up this early,” Jan said reproachfully. “Seriously, if we’re going to continue being friends, I need you to get a new job.”

Tony laughed a little. “There’s a limited number of opportunities for working with my boyfriend and not having to wear pants, unfortunately. Besides, my loyal fans at the correctional institution will be heartbroken if I leave.”

Jan made a rude noise. “Anyway, I don’t really have anything to say. Steve just asked me to call in and distract you for a minute so he could get the ring out without you noticing.”

“What-” Tony turned and froze as he saw Steve holding out a small velvet jewelry box. “What the shit-”

“Tony Stark-” Steve said and the crew lost their fucking minds. He could barely hear Sam yelling at him over all the shouting.

The loudest yelling was definitely coming from Tony though. “Oh no!” he said “No! You did not just propose to me in front of half of New York while I’m not wearing any pants!”

Steve laughed. “I’ve been planning this for months, I can’t help it if you picked today to have a wardrobe malfunction.”

“In front of your mother!”

“Yup.” Steve waved at the camera. “By the way, mom, if Tony turns me down you’re not allowed to ever bake him another pie as long as he lives.”

Tony sputtered with laughter and finally set his coffee mug down on the desk with a heavy thud. He reached out between them and gripped Steve’s knee. “Oh my god, don’t take away the pies.”

Steve grinned and plucked the ring out of the box, then grabbed Tony’s hand off his knee to carefully slide the ring on. “No take-backs.”

“Holy shit I love you so much,” Tony said. He yanked hard on Steve’s hand, dragging him out of his seat and half into Tony’s lap. Tony grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him, quick and light on the lips. “Yes, Steve, I’m going to marry the hell out of you.”

Steve took another kiss, a little slower, a little deeper, then pulled back. He gave Tony a grin - and god help him if he looked half as ridiculously happy as he felt just then - and straightened his shirt before turning back to the camera. “You heard it here first, popular morning talk show host Tony Stark is officially off the market. We’re moving over to Sports now, where the Giants probably managed not to fuck everything up, but I don’t know for sure because I hate football and no one’s queued up the cards for the next segment yet. So we’re going to cut to commercial for just a minute and when we get back my fiance is going to put on some pants and show us how to make a casserole over an open fire. Also we’ll see if I still have a job because I absolutely did not clear any of this with my producer. Thanks for joining us, we’ll be right back.”

#snoozingcat #stony #stevetony #my fic #nightwalker writes

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sending-the-message · 6 years

Text

The part of the deep web that we aren't supposed to see. by Mr_Outlaw_

I’ll assume you all know about the deep web. Well, what you've heard is true, it's not a great place. While some people are there to score legal weed or firearms, or even out of sheer curiosity, others... well they're obviously not up to anything good. But I'm not here to talk about those sickos. I'm here to talk about what lies beyond that point. The more cryptic and unexplainable part of the internet. The part that nobody’s really supposed to see.

There was an info-graphic that cropped up a while ago. Not sure when. "The 8 levels of the internet". Maybe you've seen it. As interesting as it was, it's complete bunk. I'm sorry, but "Polymeric Falcigohl Derivation" means nothing. And the "Primarch system"? I guess somebody's a fan of Warhammer. No, there's no quantum mechanics involved here. However, that doesn't mean it was an easy place to find.

Now, I'm not going to begin to tell you how to get here. It's unlikely that'd you be able to, even if I did. I'm not tooting my own horn here, I just didn't have a life outside of this. I was warned, of course. Everybody told me I wasn’t going to like what I saw. That I wouldn’t even understand it. Now I’m passing off that warning to you. Don’t try to look for this.

There's no official name for this place, or at least I haven't seen one. There were rumors, however. These ranged from an illuminati chat room to a virtual holding cell for an experimental AI gone rouge. In reality, it’s a lot worse. After a long and painful process of breaking down firewalls, encryptions, solving bizarre philosophical riddles, and following hidden links, I was finally directed to a blank page with one line of text and a text-box underneath. "Quid quaeris?” Latin for "What do you seek?” I remember feeling surprised. But in retrospect, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I'll admit, I was a bit stumped here. Partly because I didn't know the answer to that question. I had no objective, I just wanted to see if I could do it. I tried some generic answers at first. I typed in "the truth" and "enlightenment". You know, matrix shit. Nothing happened. I tried a bunch of answers, but none of them worked. I was getting frustrated at this point. Maybe this was a gag page. Maybe I really hadn’t figured anything out. If only.

I tried something off the wall. Not sure how this came to me or why I thought it would work, but I typed in “what also seeks me”. Now that I think about it, this thing might have been an AI. To my surprise, the page went blank. Like fully blank. I waited. After about five minutes, I was directed to what looked like a forum. No, not even that. It was more basic. Just a list of links over a brownish-yellow background. The links themselves were indecipherable. Just seemingly random sequences of characters, symbols and letters. A lot of them I had never seen before. It almost looked like an alien language. Obviously, just a code I didn’t understand. At this point, expectations were off the wall. Each link was a shot in the dark. I clicked on the first one. It loaded up a live-feed of what seemed to be the Paris catacombs. I watched for a while, but it was ultimately uneventful.

I moved on to the next link. It was a shaky video in a dark setting. But I could make out men in tactical gear. They were in a house, opening doors and sweeping each room. Eventually, they kicked one down to reveal a creature. Tall and humanoid, with scaly skin. It was gnawing on a dismembered arm. They tried shooting at it, but it escaped out the window. The video stopped there. Well, I was floored. What the hell was this? It looked too real to be unreleased film footage. I was officially intrigued. Maybe this was worth the months of headaches and bloodshot eyes after all. I couldn’t stop now. I started working down the list of links. With each click, everything got more and more bizarre. More disturbing. I stumbled upon a document called “The Paragon project”, detailing trials of human experimentation that would lead to superhuman levels of strength and durability. It was an apparent success. Looked official too.

There were essays on space-time anomalies, glitches in reality, and apparent pictures of alternate dimensions. There were detailed explanations regarding Area 51, the Bermuda triangle, assassinations, disappearances, and the true nature of the Holy Grail. One of the more upsetting ones was a document referring to a “world-ending bomb”. A nuke that’s 720,000 times stronger than the one dropped on Hiroshima. I don’t want to know why we would need that. I found contingency plans for different kinds of Apocalypses - nuclear winter, biological weapons, viral outbreak. Some more peculiar ones were called “The Marianas Trench abnormality”, the bluntly labeled “Strange man on the fifteenth floor”, and one simply referred to as “Blackout”. Recovered logs of skin-walker hunting expeditions, 911 transcripts from residents of a town in Texas that went missing in 1977 and even the journals that belonged to the people involved in the Dyatlov pass incident. They didn’t go insane because of the snow.

I spent hours on there, looking through pages and pages of things I felt like I wasn’t supposed to see. I came across a trailer to a silent film made back in 1910. One that apparently made people claw their eyes out after watching that nearly derailed the whole industry. There was a live stream of a hooded man sitting in front of a camera, head crouched down. He eventually lifted his head. Even though he had no mouth, a deep, guttural, “Hello” came through my speakers. Somehow, I knew it came from him. I didn’t stick around for that. There were obscure sets of step-by-step guides that involved things like cutting off your own limbs and sewing on a corpse’s, performing religious incantations in the middle of the Siberian forest and going to coordinates that apparently housed captive fallen angels. It was unclear what any of these were supposed to achieve. There was a 20 second long clip titled “The futility of the living”. I didn’t watch it. That’s when I realized there was no way even the highest form of organized government had full control of this. One of the scariest things about this whole thing was that I didn’t find an end to the list. No matter far I scrolled down.

I think I had a meltdown and passed out eventually, because I woke up on my floor in the middle of the night. I looked at my computer screen to see looped helicopter footage of a massive, crab-like creature tearing apart a coastal island. I clicked off of it. I just sat there for the longest time. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing, and I don’t think I really wanted to. Now, I’m not really sure why I kept going. My brain was screaming for me to take my computer out to the lawn and smash it into pieces. But I didn’t. I noticed something I hadn’t before. A small message at the bottom left hand corner of the screen. I don’t know if it was always there or not. It was hard to read so I had to squint. More Latin. Translated into “Are you satisfied?” There were two options underneath it, yes and no.

Now, I knew the answer to this question. Hell no I wasn’t satisfied. I was horrified, scarred for life. But I should have clicked on yes. If I just clicked on yes it would have taken me out of that godforsaken place. Back to comfort and sanity. Even right now, I can’t tell you why I clicked on no. But once I did, the page seemed to refresh. It was still the same basic setup, except there were only four links. This time, there were no recognizable numbers or characters. Hell, it didn’t look like anything that could have come from this world. Just a collection of extremely crude symbols that didn’t give off any sense of pattern or direction. I clicked on the first link.

After about 20 seconds, I unplugged the computer. I can’t describe to you what I saw. All I know is that I wasn’t supposed to see it. NOBODY should ever see something like this. It’s not only that it didn’t make any sense, I can’t tell you why it didn’t. I couldn’t begin to grasp the images I was seeing. It wasn’t graphic or anything, not like that. I just couldn’t recognize anything. I could make out things moving, but not in a way any creature on earth has ever moved before. Colors that I’d never seen before. Just thinking about it gives me a splitting headache. This is the best way I can describe it. We have 3 dimensions here on earth. We can move left, right, 72.4 degrees upwards, etc. These things weren’t restricted to that. I can’t explain it any further. All I know is that I didn’t want to watch one more second. I don’t think I would have been able to.

I left my room. For the first time in a while, I was planning to leave my house. I needed fresh air. To take a walk or something. Hell, I was thinking about running a marathon in the middle of the night just to get my mind off of that shit for a few hours. I was putting on my jacket when I heard a knock at the door. I stopped dead in my tracks. Obviously, I wasn’t opening up. About a minute and five more sets of knocks came before somebody spoke up. “Open up. We know what you did, but we’re not here to hurt you. We just want to talk”. The tone wasn’t threatening. Eventually, I obliged. I opened up my door to two tall, slim men in suits. They smiled at me. “Can we come in?” I still don't know how they found me. I thought for sure that I was off the grid.

We sat down on the couch. I guess I was just waiting for answers at this point. One of them looked at me and said “What were you looking for?” “I don’t know. But I’m not going back”, I responded. He smiled again. Like this is what he wanted to hear. The other one piped up: “Who do you work for?” His tone was a bit more aggressive. I just shook my head. “Look, I didn’t know what I was getting into. I wasn’t looking for anything.” They just stared at me for a while. “I’m not gonna tell anybody. Trust me”. They finally responded: “We’re not worried about that. Doubt anybody’d believe you.” Another smile. Somehow it felt genuine. “We just wanted to know what your priorities were.” In retrospect, that was a very strange question. “Just do us favor and we’ll leave”. I perked up. “Give us the device you used to access it”. I didn’t ask any questions. I ran upstairs and basically tossed them my laptop. They both smirked at me once last time before heading for the door. Just as they were about to leave, one of them turned back. “I don’t think you need to be told, but don’t try this again. And don’t show anybody else how to get there either. We’ll know.” I didn’t ask who they were. I’m not sure I would have wanted to know.

It’s been a week now. I don’t go on the internet so much anymore. After this, I’m going to try and forget. To try and not to think about it anymore. I’ve started having horrific nightmares. Been seeing a therapist for that, but I don’t think it’s helping. Anyways, I’m not going to let this consume the rest of my life. The thing is, I’m afraid this might not be possible. There are some things we aren’t supposed to know about. Probably for our own safety and sanity. Don’t try and seek them out. It’s better that way.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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redditnosleep · 7 years

Text

The Part of The Deep Web That We Aren’t Supposed To See

by Mr_Outlaw_

I spent hours on there, looking through pages and pages of things I felt like I wasn’t supposed to see. I came across a trailer to a silent film made back in 1910. One that apparently made people claw their eyes out after watching that nearly derailed the whole industry. There was a live stream of a hooded man sitting in front of a camera, head crouched down. He eventually lifted his head. Even though he had no mouth, a deep, guttural, “Hello” came through my speakers. Somehow, I knew it came from him. I didn’t stick around for that. There were obscure sets of step-by-step guides that involved things like cutting off your own limbs and sewing on a corpse’s, performing religious incantations in the middle of the Siberian forest and going to coordinates that apparently housed captive fallen angels. It was unclear what any of these were supposed to achieve. There was also a 20 second long clip titled “The futility of the living”. I didn’t watch it. That’s when I realized there was no way even the highest form of organized government had full control of this. One of the scariest things about this whole experience was that I didn’t find an end to the list. No matter far I scrolled down.

After about 20 seconds, I slammed my computer shut. I can’t describe to you what I saw. All I know is that I wasn’t supposed to see it. NOBODY should ever see something like this. It’s not only that it didn’t make any sense, I can’t tell you why it didn’t. I couldn’t begin to grasp the images I was seeing. It wasn’t graphic or anything, not like that. I just couldn’t recognize anything. I could make out things moving, but not in a way any creature on earth has ever moved before. Colors that I’d never seen before. Just thinking about it gives me a splitting headache. This is my best attempt at visualizing it. We have 3 dimensions here on earth. We can move left, right, 72.4 degrees upwards, etc. These things weren’t restricted to that. I can’t explain it any further. All I know is that I didn’t want to watch one more second. I don’t think I would have been able to.

#creepy #horror story #author: Mr_Outlaw_#computers #internet #deep web

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