#*'yell' (please keep your voices down while on the plane)
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lisbonsteresa · 2 years ago
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oh here it comes
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astraaa3 · 10 months ago
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How about some headcanons of Velvette x Female or Genderneutral reader who hates confrontation? Is the type that can't send back food when it's wrong. Someone cut in front of them? What are they gonna do? Tell them not to? Yeah, no. God forbid they're being outright spoken down to. Maybe they yell back at someone in an act of defiance as a form of growth but they're in shock immediately after which is so not the right thing to do with the person still in front of them. Velvette would probably dress reader up however she wants to. What happens if reader tries out saying they want to where something they think is pretty or nice? Okay, this got overly lengthy, but you get the idea?
A/N: This one was such a fun writing experience. I literally couldn't decide which way I wanted it to go. Thank you so much for the ask Anon, hope you enjoy it. <33
Feedback is much appreciated and don't forget to ask. (I need something to get the brain juices flowing)
Velvette x Gn!Reader
In which Reader can't bring themselves to say no to people or to stand up for themselves. (aka the Velvette x Pushover!Reader I never knew I needed)
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Initially, Velvette wrote off your compliance with all of her requests as you wanting to please her. And well, she couldn't complain, she liked pushing people around, and her partner was no exception. That said, her sharp tongue was reserved for her poor models. (you got a free pass most of the time since she didn't want to make you cry)
With time, Velvette realized that this was just how you were. She laughed the first time Vox showed her the footage of you helping an assistant carry boxes, only to end up helping with organizing files for one of Vox's assistants. She laughed even harder when she saw you try to get a word in as some wolf sinner cut in front of you in line. And well, it was kinda funny. Until the same shit happened again and again.
Velvette tried talking some sense into you. "Babe, listen. You can't just let any dimwit trample over you." She sighed as you promised to try to stick up for yourself.
Nothing changed after Velvette's 'pep talk'.
Realizing that you were too much of a soft-hearted pathetic idiot to stick up for yourself, Velvette took it upon herself to keep others from pushing you around.
Someone pushed in front of you in the line? Velvette was there telling that cunt exactly why they didn't deserve to even look in your direction.
You were delivered the wrong food order? Velvette would call the restaurant to make sure they knew how utterly useless they were for not even being able to pack a food order.
After laying it on thick whoever wronged you, she would look at you smirking. In turn, you would smile at her happily before kissing her. It turned into a game after some time.
The one time Velvette saw you raise your voice wasn't even to defend yourself. It was to defend her. The moment you calmed down enough to realize what you just said, you were immediately mortified. Burying your face into your hands, you flushed red from embarrassment as Velvette looked at you with wide eyes. Fuck. It was hot seeing you angry…
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Small prompt time~
You and Velvette were walking towards the Coffee Shop right across the street from the V tower. The two of you were holding hands while Velvette was ranting all about how Valentino absolutely destroyed one of her models just before a show when the domestic vibe was ruined by some drunk assholes who came up to them.
"Hey babe, aren't you that cute little overlord with the social media shit? I'll give you something to make a story on Voxstragram with."
As the sinner said this, he made some explicit gestures with his hips. Gagging in disgust Velvette grabbed your hand to walk away from them, not wanting to ruin the cozy coffee date you had planed. However, as you were walking away, all you could hear was the those sinners mocking laughs. You were so angry. You didn't exactly know what made you snap at them. Was it the crass comments regarding your lover? Was it the fact that Velvette refrained from killing them for your sake? Maybe it was both. But before you knew it, you turned around glaring at them before proceeding to curse them into the next afterlife. Velvette looked at you shocked, not expecting you to snap at those no-names. As you calmed down, you looked at Velvette's shocked expression, before burrying your face in your face mumbling something along the lines of: "Let's not talk about this ever again." Velvette pulled your hands from your face, replacing them with hers. As she cradled your face with her hands she smiled at you excited:
"That. Was. Fucking. Awesome. Babe, you were so hot fucking humiliating those pathetic worms."
The first thing Velvette did when they got back to the V tower was spam her groupchat with Valentino and Vox with messages about how cool you were. But you didn't need to know that. After all, she liked taking care of assholes for you. Satan forbid you actually grow a backbone. She dreaded the day you would actually gain the courage to deny her picking your clothes. (as if she would ever let that happen)
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penelopepine · 8 months ago
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Little Purple Stars Pt. 2
Part 1 Part 2
Ghost x FemReader x Soap
Content: Soulmate AU, fluff, no angst
Despite having made contact with your soulmates it had taken another 2 weeks before finally being able to meet up in person. They had managed to get in contact with your coach though and the three of you were able to exchange phone numbers.
 It turns out that Sun and Moon, or Johnny and Simon as you know them now, had found each other a while ago. They had just been waiting for you to show yourself; which led you to where you were now. Sitting on a plane making your way to England; to them.
You wished that you could've dropped everything and ran to them, but you needed to stay and cheer on your fellow teammates during their events. That didn't mean you weren't almost constantly talking or texting with them though.
Johnny and Simon talking over the phone matched the way they drew. With Johnny being talkative and open; while Simon was more reserved and added his input when he deemed it necessary. Their voices had initially surprised you, but surprise was soon replaced by butterflies in your chest with the way they said your name. 
Plans were quickly made to meet up as soon as you were able to. Everything was happening so fast, but at the same time not fast enough. 
All throughout the plane ride Johnny and you had been exchanging little doodles; Simon adding his little hearts next to all of them. Making sure to let you know that he was here, and engaged with what you two were doing. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated, we are about to land in just a moment." The pilot announced to the plane; it was time.  Time to meet your soulmates. You had a photo of them already, Johnny had sent it on the second day of you three talking to each other saying it was only fair that you know what they look like as well.
The photo has been very cute, you may or may not have made it your phone's screen saver. It was them lying down together with Johnny smiling wide at the camera while Simon's face was partly hidden behind Johnny's head. Leaving you only to see his intense stare and blonde hair.  
You make your way off the plane to the baggage claim making sure to keep an eye out for two certain individuals. It isn't until you spot a giant sign with your name on it surrounded by purple stars do you finally see them. 
Simon is standing stoically, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and with a plain black face mask covering the bottom half of his face. 
Johnny on the other hand is practically jumping where he stands. He is also holding onto the sign and starts to excitedly shake it once he catches your eyes. "Lass, over here!" He yells as he pats on Simon's shoulder before pointing to where you're currently standing.
You can't help but smile watching them. Doing your best to not all out run to them as they too start to walk towards you.
As soon as you’re in arms reach Johnny drops the signs and picks you up. Spinning the two of you in circles, giggling while holding onto one another. He quickly places you down right in front of Simon.
"These are for you." Simon holds out the flowers for you to take.
"They're beautiful!" You bring the flowers close to your chest smelling them before you hesitantly open your arms out in a hug. It seems that was all Simon needed before he too was pulling you close to his chest; holding you tight. 
"Well done love, winning the gold, we're disappointed we weren't able to be there, but just know we were watching you the whole time."  Simon whispers before he releases you from his grip kneeling down and picking up your bag. Obviously ignoring your remarks about how you can carry your own stuff. 
"Aye let him carry it lass heaven knows once he gets his hands on something he doesn't let go." Johnny says, giving you a wink. 
"Oi don't start with that now Johnny." 
"I didn't say anything that wasn't true Lt." A mischievous grin spreads on his face as he turns to face you, "Simon here might act all big and tough, but I promise ya he's a softie."
 "I'll keep that in mind next time we train MacTavish. Let's see if you still feel that way afterwards." 
In a faux whisper that clearly meant for all to hear Johnny leans into your ear and says, "See what did I tell ya; a softie that one." 
Simon doesn't say anything, simply glares at the other man in front of him.
You couldn't help but laugh at how the two are acting. It's cute to see them bickering with one another; you feel content to just listen to them talk.
Upon hearing you laugh both turn towards you. Simon's eyes lose that glare once making eye contact with you. "I can be soft for you though, love." His hand comes up to caress your check. 
You feel your face become hot as his hand continues to touch you for just a few more moments before pulling away as he looks towards the other. “Johnny, pick up the sign and let’s get out of here.” 
"Aye, let's get you home bonnie! We have the entire day planned out for you; starting with you taking all the relaxation you need. Take a nap, shower, or whatever you need while me and the big guy here make our ice princess a very special meal."
Johnny holds your hand, and Simon has a hand on the small of your back as the three of you make your way out of the airport. 
Home that was a good way to describe what you were feeling right now; you felt like you were home right now standing between the two of them. There was still a lot you had to learn about them, but you would gladly spend a million lifetimes doing so if needed. 
End Notes:
Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this! It really does mean a lot to me. I plan to start writing more so if anyone has any ideas swing them my way and I'll see what I can do!
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legs-like-jelly · 11 days ago
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Howdy ho! I love you're fanfics and was wondering if maybe you could do a Lee Starscream? The ler can be your choice
I just know Starscream needs to get wrecked, he's such a goober X3
thanks to u and these two anons(one of which i know who it is-) i can write this fic!! thanks so much!!
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How Childish!
Lee: Starscream
Ler: Bumblebee
(please note that this fic takes place during SEASON 3 of Earthspark and will contain minor spoilers!)
It was another day at the Autobot Base. Starscream found himself holed up yet again in that stupid prison cell. And he hated being holed up. The seeker's wings twitched with annoyance, which caught the attention of the mech that was so graciously assigned to keep him in check.
Bumblebee.
"You know, you'd be able to fly if you didn't spend so much of your life terrorizing innocent people," The scout spoke. He stood outside of the cage, scrolling through a datapad.
"Yes because trapping mechs that are meant to fly is totally a moral high ground!" Starscream scoffed, wings twitching with increasing irritation.
Bumblebee sighed and put a servo on his hip. "What, do you want me to take you on a walk?"
"I am not a dog!" The seeker hissed while Bumblebee put in a pin to unlock the door.
"Come on, I know that look. You never complain about wanting to go outside as much as you have today," The scout pinched his wing, trying to drag Starscream along.
"eeEEEK!!" The seeker squealed, startling the other mech.
"What was that?!?!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "Nearly blew out my audials."
Starscream was trying his best not to squirm, to no avail. His servos flew to his intake, trying to suppress his giggles. Bumblebee's optics widened as he let go.
"Don't tell me...you're TICKLISH??!" The scout yelled, making the other mech freeze up.
"I-i'm not! That would be childish," The other mech spoke before dissolving into giggles from another pinch at his wing.
"You are!" Bumblebee gasped. Starscream was quiet for a while before tugging his wing away and bolting out the open door.
"On no you don't!" Bee yelled before transforming and zooming down the hall after him. Starscream let out a yelp before picking up the pace. The seeker cut a corner, sprinting down the next hall towards Wheeljack's lab.
"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME, LITTLE BEE!" Starscream yelled as he hopped over a few crates in the way. Bumblebee drove up the wall and promptly flipped, landing right on top of the other mech.
"Gotcha, fly boy!" The yellow mech exclaimed, wiggling his digits tauntingly. The seeker kicked his legs, trying to wriggle out from underneath him.
"ehehe- no, NO YOU WOUHOULDN'T!!" The seeker squeaked, trying to curl up on himself.
"Wouldn't what? Tickle you? Why are ya so scared? Is it cause you're ticklish?" Bumblebee teased while his finger's moved in on the seeker's wings.
"NOHOHO DON'T SAY THAHAAAT!!" Starscream shrieked, immediately dissolving into giggles.
"What? Tickle? Tickletickletickle!" He teased, digits lightly grazing the metal of Starscream's wings.
"STAHAHAHAAP!! SHUT UP SHUT UHUPP!!!" The plane mech squeaked, banging his fist on the ground.
"Aw but if I shut up, I can't tell you when I've found all your sweet spots! Lets tryyy..." Bumblebee's voice trailed off as he looked for a spot to start with. His servos briefly hovered over the back of his knees.
"Whahat are you- EHEHEHEHEKAHAHA!!-" The seeker was caught off guard by digits scribbling on the backs of his thighs. He thrashed about, wings fluttering frantically behind him.
"Oh, did I find a bad spot? Does it tickletickletickle there? Did I find one of your giggle buttons?" Bee teased, inching his hands over to pinch and prod at the back of Starscream's knees.
"HEHEHE- SNRK!! NOHOHOHO NOT THEHEHERE!!" The seeker cackled, burying his helm in his arms.
"Not there? Then where, fly boy? You gotta speak up so the Tickle Monster and get ya proper-like!"
"DOHON'T CALL YOURSELF THAHAHAT!!" Starscream giggled into his arms. Bumblebee tsked at him while moving his servos danced across the seeker's wings.
"What, are you scared of the TickleTickleTickle Monster?" The scout smirked to himself and briefly got off Starscream before flipping him onto his back. "Too bad, cause he wants to see your smile!"
"LIKE THE PIT YOU DO!!" Starscream yelled, keeping his faceplate covered with his servos.
"That's too bad! Guess I'll have to use my ultimate trick..."
Starscream uncovered his faceplate, peeking down at the scout. His optics widened with awe as little sparks flew off the scout's fingers.
"you wouldnt-" He squeaked while fingers inched closer to his chassis.
"Oh, but I would!" Bee smirked before stopping just above the metal of Starscream's stomach.
"Youhou're EVIL!" The jet squealed, kicking his pedes behind the scout.
"Funny coming from the evilest mech I know!" Bee retorted while feathering two digits along Starscream's sides. Short little electric shots shot through the plating.
"SNRK- HEHEHEHEHEHEEHE!! THAT TI- SNRK-" Starscream felt his faceplate heat up and tint bright pink.
"It what? Tickles? Come on, you can say that, can't you?~" The bee cooed, knowing damn well the answer. "Come on, tell me how much it tickles, fly boy!" The mech's little shocks traveled downwards while he started to knead the seeker's hips.
"IHIHIT TICKLES SOHOHO BAHAAAAD!! QUIHIT IT!!" Starscream wheezed out, hitting his servo on the ground next to them.
"You really want me to stop?" Bumblebee hummed while slowing down his tickles.
"PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!! HIC- HAVE MERCY!!" The other mech squealed.
"Fine, fine. I won't kill you," Bumblebee lifted his servos and helped the other mech sit up. Starscream leaned on the other's shoulder, still sort of giggly.
"Need some energon?" Bee spoke while his servo rubbed small circles into the seeker's back. Starscream's wings flicked upwards.
"I don't need your pity!...But that does sound nice right about now."
"Whatever you say, fly boy."
FIN.
~~~~~~
HI TYSM FOR READING I CAN'T BELIVE THIS TOOK THREE SAYS....actually i know why it took three days i have a wrist injury-
BUT!! I hope you enjoy my starbee propaganda 😈😈😈
As Always: Please read Pinned Post Before Sending a Request
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darkeraurora · 1 month ago
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Admissions - Chapter 1
This chapter is SFW. Fluff and filler, lots of laying the necessary groundwork, and introducing our sweet boy to original FMC from another story of mine. Also in this story Soap was shot in the head but through the magic of fanfiction he's alive and Simon didn't lose him.
Word count: 4533
Before you read: This story is written a little out of order. I'm working to fill in the holes and catch up to the chapters I've already published. Between working fulltime, running a nonprofit, and CPTSD making my life a little extra entertaining from time to time, writing and editing can be a little slow. So I beg your patience.
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“Laswell’s sending new coordinates. Hope you packed something warm,” Price’s voice crackled over the radio.
“For the fucking desert?!” Ghost snapped while tossing aside blood-soaked gauze, pressing more to the side of Soap’s head.
Gaz coughed from where he sat on Ghost’s other side, keeping pressure on his own injury – a round he’d taken to the back of his shoulder. “S-sure did Cap… along with my wool knickers and Santa suit.”
Ghost rolled his eyes. Might have smacked him upside the head as well if Gaz wasn’t injured. He looked the sergeant over. Garrick seemed to be hanging in there, but his complexion was a bit off and his breaths labored. What really worried the lieutenant was the lack of an exit wound. That meant the bullet was still lodged inside, who knew where or what it had hit. A shot to the back of the shoulder could be serious, particularly when it hadn’t gone clean through.
They’d slowed the bleeding, but it wouldn’t stop.
His attention returned to Soap lying on the floor of the plane. The gauze was soaked through again.
They needed to hurry.
He couldn’t lose them.
“Get yourselves sorted. I’ll be there in a few days.”
At that, Ghost’s headset went silent.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Holy fucking shit it was windy.
The plane finally touched down, the force jolting all three men on board.
Medics came rushing on board almost immediately. Good. Simon could relax a little.
Or so he would’ve thought.
But despite the skull’s burning death stare, continuously telling them to fuck off because he was fine goddammit, these people would not fucking stop pestering him. Yelling at him, asking the same questions over and over, and trying to pull him up from his seat… Simon was a hair’s breadth from losing his shit and reducing everyone around him to nothing but a greasy smear beneath his boots.
“I know you all are not over here annoying the ever-loving shit outta hurt people.”
A disapproving female voice standing out among all the male ones cut through the chatter. While not a male soldier's loud, barking voice, it carried a confident authority nonetheless. The wall of people surrounding the angry Brit opened revealing a short, and very obviously annoyed, female.
“Are you hurt bad enough that you’re about to die on me?” she asked, gesturing at him without touching him, for which he was absurdly appreciative. Not that he’d show it.
“No,” Ghost loudly snapped.
If his rudeness offended her, she didn’t seem to care. “You heard him,” she waved off the people crowding around the skull. “Get moving, the hell is everyone standing around for?”
With Soap and Gaz already on their way and the annoying gaggle of people leaving him alone, thanks to her, Simon began making his way out of the plane. Ice-cold winds stole the breath from his lungs and stung the inside of his nose.
No they definitely hadn’t packed for this.
Gripping onto the side, he swung down from the plane, barely stifling a groan at the sharp pain shooting up his leg. He’d been able to balance most of his weight on his good foot as he made his way to the door, but once outside there wasn’t anything to hold onto for support, and he came up with several new swears at the impact. Somehow over the wind and plane's engines, the woman heard and turned back.
Ghost couldn’t hide his limp quickly enough. “Come on Lieutenant.” She came up to his side and slid under his arm. Simon could hardly put weight on his leg by that point and was forced to grab onto her shoulder to maintain balance. “I’m gonna grab your belt, okay? So I have a better grip.”
He couldn’t bring himself to argue, though he wanted to. An arm wrapped around his lower back and took hold of his belt, the position keeping her pressed firmly against him and his arm across the back of her shoulders.
Simon just knew he was the color of a goddamn tomato under his mask, fucking hell. Thankfully he’d chosen his full skull mask this time and his face was completely hidden.
With slow, hobbling steps the massive lieutenant and the tiny female headed into the med bay. He tensed the moment the doors shut behind him. The woman must have felt it because she brought them to a stop at the closest corner. Ghost’s arm rested on the fire extinguisher to keep himself up and as much of his weight off his foot as he possibly could.
The medic disappeared behind a curtain a moment before returning with a chair helping him over to it and making sure he could sit down without crashing to the floor. “You’re out of the way over here so no one should bother you. Not for a while at least. I’m gonna take care of your guys then I’ll be back, okay?”
He grunted indifferently in response and looked away. Her bright amber eyes and sweet voice made him feel… different.
That irritated him.
And he was already extremely fucking irritated as it was.
Eventually the organized chaos around Soap and Gaz dissipated, leaving the two resting on gurneys for whatever came next. The Brit had begun pondering making his way over, but someone with a short white lab coat came waltzing his direction. Pale, baby-faced, and with an annoyingly snooty expression the Brit instantly disliked. Ghost could swear he could still see the silver spoon in his mouth.
“Strip,” he demanded.
What in the absolute fuck. Not even so much as an offer for dinner first.
“Piss off,” Ghost replied.
The little prick puffed up like a balloon. “Shirt off Soldier!”
The black-eyed skull glared back at him. After a mission gone sideways and his team injured, the lieutenant was not in the mood for this. Plus it was a stupid request anyway; he had a hurt foot for christ’s sake.
“That was an order! Shirt off! Before I call the MPs and have you reprimanded for refusal to obey!”
The Brit growled, beyond done with this petulant, overgrown child. “Piss off!”
Reclined on a stretcher in a bay across the room, Soap was awake. Groggy as he was, he’d still recognize that grouchy, growly voice anywhere. The voice Ghost used when he was about to slaughter someone, and knowing full well LT would be extra pissy after a failed mission, he called for the attention of someone behind his curtain.
Simon’s periphery caught Soap’s movement; Johnny gesturing and talking to someone he couldn't see. He couldn’t even begin to process his relief when the female medic’s head popped around the curtain and she began walking over, looking exasperated and rolling her eyes.
The obnoxious asshole in front of Ghost snapped his fingers at two MPs near the door. “Get him out, drag him out if you have to!” his voice cracked.
“Actually boys,” the woman interrupted, “if you could remove him that’d be great.”
The MPs nodded, barely concealing gleeful grins, and began herding the little prick through the door. “Thanks guys!” she smiled as her attention returned to the seated lieutenant. “I’m really sorry about him. Now that he has an MD after his name he thinks he’s the shit.”
She hooked the toe of her shoe around the leg of a rolling stool and dragged it over, sitting in front of the angry skull. “My name’s Sereza, what’s yours?”
Sereza, hm?
The Brit stared a moment. “Ghost,” he replied curtly.
“Your team is all good. They’re stable and comfortable, now it’s your turn, cool?”
The skull nodded. Knowing his sergeants weren’t about to die on him, Simon was okay (ish) with his injury getting looked at. His heart accelerated as she kneeled down in front of him. Then he remembered – he had a hurt foot.
The apples of his cheeks begin to burn and the front of his pants felt a bit snug as she settled in front of his legs. Something he really didn’t want to happen. Simon clenched his jaw, feeling utterly disgusted with himself. The poor girl was just doing her job; she didn’t deserve that.
Control yourself! Fucking hell...
Seemingly oblivious - or at least he hoped to God she was - Sereza gingerly lifted his leg and rested the heel of his boot on her thigh.
The Brit mentally chuckled at seeing that his boot was as wide as her leg. Bloody hell she’s a tiny little thing. The brief lift in his spirits dulled when the sole of his boot left muddy streaks on her pants though, leaving him feeling guilty and wondering if he should offer to buy her new ones.
Sereza picked apart the knot and pulled the lace out of his boot before gently easing it off. There was some mild discomfort as she carefully pulled off his sock but it was by far the gentlest touch Ghost had experienced in a very long time. Possibly ever, now that he thought about it. Her tender but sure grip supported his ankle in the perfect position as she leaned over and inspected him. Light touches and cool, soft skin relaxed the lieutenant beyond measure. Even with the occasional slightly uncomfortable manipulation of his foot, Simon found he was at serious risk of becoming a puddle right there in her chair.
Not very becoming of a lieutenant.
If either of the sergeants was around he knew they’d make some stupid wisecrack about him having a foot fetish. Fuck’s sake…
His trouser leg being pushed up his calf slightly brought Ghost’s gaze back down to the woman. He briefly worried she’d push it up too far, exposing the point where his scars began, but she moved the material just enough and continued examining him with a neutral expression.
“Congrats Lieutenant, you fractured your foot,” she finally said. Ghost grunted. “It’s just a tiny break; right about here,” she gestured without touching his skin. “How’d that happen?”
“Fucker drove over my foot.”
“That wasn’t nice. Hope you got him back for it.”
The skull quirked an eyebrow. If the hole between his eyes and the mess of gray matter splattering the front seats were any indication, then yes, Ghost did indeed get him back. But he decided to spare her the specific details and only hummed an affirmative.
She called to someone around the corner and gave them a verbal list of things she wanted. The person quickly returned with an armful of things and piled them onto her stool. He moved to hold Ghost’s leg-
“No,” the lieutenant irritably snapped before speaking more calmly to the female, “… Just you.”
The other medic looked ready to argue but the woman intervened yet again, giving him a task that sounded suspiciously like busy work to the lieutenant, and sending him on his way. “Help me out a little,” she said to Ghost as she handed him some packages. “Open this please, but don’t let it fall on the floor.”
Having been put to work, Simon dutifully opened seal after seal, handing things to her as she needed them. If he was responsible for her help having been sent away then he supposed it was the least he could do. Plus she had to touch his feet, and he was sure they smelled by this point. And she had helped his sergeants, sent off that shithead that tried having him thrown out … His stomach felt uncomfortably heavy with the weight of his debts to her.
Unwrapping things was the absolute fucking least he could do. 
She wrapped his foot in multiple layers before the medic came back again to set a walking boot down beside the stool. “Used one of these before?” she asked the skull, dragging the boot over.
Ghost hummed in response. He had indeed, several times.
The first being his father’s doing… Simon had been just seven years old.
The woman straightened out his pant leg and lowered his foot comfortably into the boot before closing it snuggly around him. The Brit already missed her touch. Medics were always so bloody rough with him, but her though…
Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he reached down and adjusted the boot until it was where he knew from experience he wanted it to be.
Sereza stood and held out an arm, helping to heave the huge lieutenant out of the slightly-too-small chair. Simon barely suppressed an amused chuckle when out of the corner of his eye he noticed her grabbing onto the nearby doorframe to keep from being toppled by him.
Little peanut, he laughed to himself.
“Six weeks in this thing, okay? Be extra nice to it, especially in the gym, don't get it wet, and strictly no running. Keep it elevated as much as you can, lots of ice… all the usual stuff. Come back here to have it rewrapped weekly, if not sooner. I know how you guys usually are about pain meds but if you decide you want something just say the word,” she instructed with a sweet smile, standing ready to steady him as he took a few careful steps, testing the boot.
Satisfied that he could put weight on it without much pain or collapsing, his gloved hand let go of her shoulder, though he kind of wanted to keep it there.
What the hell was going on with him? Maybe he was just tired. It had been a shit day after all. And a long one.
Someone called her away so Ghost walked – very slowly at first – over to the bay where Soap and Gaz were resting. He didn’t care for the sight of them connected to IVs and beeping monitors and whatever else all this stuff was, but they were both alive and would live to face another fight.
“Johnny,” his gravelly baritone whispered, having noticed Gaz fast asleep. Or heavily sedated, he wasn’t sure which.
The Scot cracked his eyes open. “She’s something, ey LT?” he drowsily grinned.
Simon groaned quietly as he sat in the chair beside Soap’s bed. “Unusual name.”
“That’s what I s-said… Lass told me she’s from… froooomm Ar… Arrrgentina,” Soap words slurred, obviously a little medicated himself. “Pretty lil… liiiiittle bird.”
Ghost didn’t say anything more and let Soap ramble before he dozed off. Most of it incoherent nonsense but Simon didn’t mind, it reinforced that he hadn’t lost Johnny. Not this time.
Blackened eyes wandered around discreetly from behind the skull plate, trying to distract his mind. Tracking everyone’s movements around him and not at all trying to find a certain female. He hated the med bay. Anything to do with hospitals and clinics and such. Too much time spent in them as a child when his shitty excuse of a sperm donor went overboard. The now familiar caramel waves caught his eye and diverted his mind from unpleasant memories.
This med bay though… maybe this one wasn’t so bad.
Leaning back in the chair and stretching out his legs, the physical and mental exhaustion of a mission gone sideways caught up with him and the lieutenant began to drift off.
The hours ticked by.
They took Gaz off somewhere. Multiple medics stopped by to check vitals and switch out IVs and units of blood for Soap while the sergeant continued to lightly snore. Each of them roused the lieutenant a bit just by their presence alone, though he paid them no mind and didn’t let on that he was awake. If they weren’t the woman then he really couldn’t be bothered. Hours continued to pass, Soap left, came back, then left again, and Simon’s back ached from this fucking metal chair.
A warm glow shining on his eyelids interrupted his nap. Annoyed, he squinted at the doors to the runway where they'd landed, eyebrows furrowing in thought. It had been late in the day when they got here, why was it still light out?
Was it just him or was this the longest day ever?
Fuck it. Whatever.
Too tired to care at this point. And fuck this uncomfortable chair too.
Cracking his neck, Simon nodded off once again.
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A touch on his forearm caused Ghost’s hand to clamp down hard on someone.
Murderous blackened eyes met with bright amber ones. He quickly let go of her hand. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling horrendously guilty when he saw the red print of his hand marring her olive skin. (“YOU LITTLE FUCKER, ALWAYS FUCKING SHIT UP!”) The Brit blinked hard behind the skull plate, trying to force his father’s voice out of his head.
“No worries Lieutenant,” she smiled sweetly with a reassuring squeeze on his arm. “We’re moving your guys to a room, do you wanna go along? See everyone? We can find you an actual bed to sleep in after. Something a little better than this shitty chair.”
The Brit staggered along, following Sereza out of the triage area and into the winding system of corridors that formed the guts of all hospitals.
“MacTavish should be done soon,” she informed. “Ah. Speaking of-”
A gurney banged open a set of double doors a few feet ahead of them, one of the attendants handing papers off to her as the bed moved on ahead. A few silent moments and an insane number of turns later, Soap’s gurney finally veered through a final set of doors. The words Intensive Care above them made Simon’s chest feel tight.
“We were able to get them in the same room,” the woman’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Garrick left post-op about twenty minutes ago so he should be set up already.”
The woman… what was her name?
It was unusual... fuck, he couldn’t remember exactly. And he didn’t want to insult her by getting it wrong. He’d have to wait and hope he’d be able to pick it up somewhere.
Simon hung back in the hall, out of the way, as people swarmed in and out of the room. Finally everything settled and the Brit felt that he could enter without getting in the way. Deep down he wasn’t sure he was ready to and his mind was imagining the state his team might be in, but as a lieutenant he was responsible for them and that was not a duty Ghost took lightly.
After a silent deep breath, he walked into the dim room. Soap was settled in across the room from a quietly sleeping Garrick and aside from the expected bandages, tubes, and monitors, Simon was immensely relieved to find nothing horribly worrying. Next to Soap, the little one stood off to the side, signing papers, reading over other papers, and conversing with the last few staff members before they too left, skittering almost fearfully past the skull-masked Brit.
“How is he?” Ghost quietly asked, looking down at Johnny.
“He’s really good actually. And lucky. His scan shows no serious damage that time won��t fix. He has a drain right now because we don’t want any swelling making things worse and giving us a new set of problems, but that can come out in about a few days. That’s the only thing keeping him in ICU; just needs to be watched closely.”
How the hell was she so soothing to listen to? Ghost couldn’t understand it.
The way she talked made him feel like there was nothing to worry about.
“Shall we go find you a bed? They’re gonna sleep the rest of the day and you look ready to drop.”
The pair walked side by side down the hall, turning more corners than the Brit cared to count, while she filled him in on more details. He was trying to keep up with where they were going and what she was saying, but he was so fucking tired.
“…then for Garrick, we operated on him last night. Removed two fragments, patched a few holes. Very smooth, no complications, but he does have a chest tube in for right now. I expect he’ll be up and about in four, maybe five days. He’s in ICU only so MacTavish has a friend to keep him company. Didn’t want him waking up in a strange place without someone he knows there.”
“Last night?”
Hazel eyes looked up at him quizzically. “…Yeah… When you guys got here...”
She spoke slowly and with concern, like she was beginning to suspect he had a concussion or something. “It’s-” the skull looked toward the bright windows up ahead. Wait a damn minute…
“Ghost, do you know where you are?”
Actually no. Not exactly. It wasn’t a concern at the time.
His concern was not losing anyone on his team. They were all he had.
He grumpily shook his head, “Watcher had to divert us here quickly because of injuries, no time for details.”
“Ah. Well since no one took the time to tell you, you’re in the Arctic,” she explained when the Brit continued looking perplexed.
Things began to make a little more sense. “Is this,” fuck, what was it called, “when the sun doesn’t go down?”
A mellifluous little laugh almost made his cold heart melt, which was slightly aggravating. That left him feeling like he wasn’t in full control.
“Yeah, midnight sun. It’s just a little after 0300 right now. Welcome to Camp Westforge, Lieutenant,” she gestured at a pair of large windows that offered the Brit a view of the expansive snow-covered wilderness beyond the base’s high walls. Despite it being around three in the morning, the bright sun hung low above the frozen horizon. “Throws you off, doesn’t it? That explains why you were confused. I was beginning to worry I missed a head injury.”
The Brit muttered something under his breath about being perfectly fine.
“Oh quit fussing,” she lightly teased.
Ghost was taken aback. No one had ever dared speak to him like that.
And he didn't fuss. Ever.
He pinned a half-hearted scowl on the small female walking by his shoulder but she was completely unbothered, goddammit.
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Price arrived two days later and over the next month the 141 slowly started getting back on their feet.
Injuries would keep them out of action for the short term, but there was still a fight to win, and to bring that fight to Makarov the team needed to be close by. Ergo, Laswell had informed them, Westforge was to be their temporary base of operations. 'Little home away from home,' she'd called it.
Johnny was initially crushed by the damage done to his mohawk but his sunny disposition kicked in and he was back to seeing the bright side of things again - at least he was alive and had narrowly avoided a career-ending, life-altering injury. If that cost him his mohawk then so be it. Hair would grow back.
Garrick had practically jumped out of bed the day after his chest tube was removed and declared himself ready for action again. The base was swarming with planes and helos lately and each time a new one came in Gaz or Johnny would say something about their ride being here. Simon had to talk some sense into them, insisting that Johnny wouldn’t be useful in the field with staples still in his head, which Soap disagreed with. Afterward, Johnny sulked in his bed, continuing his arguments in Gaelic, Simon was sure. Gaz on the other hand spent most of his time rehabbing his shoulder.
Through all of it, he saw almost none of the woman.
That was frustrating, which made no sense to him. What did he care if she was busy or whatever? Well he didn't. Or, shouldn't. He wasn’t responsible for her. But without fail, every fucking time he and this stupid fucking boot limped into a room the skull found himself looking around for a head of long dark honey-colored curls, yet found none. It was putting him in a very sour mood.
Which also annoyed him.
Which made his mood worse.
But that little one made him feel… weird. A warm feeling would settle in his chest and stomach.
But what in the bloody hell? And fucking why?
It was always with him, night and day, fluttering around in his chest. At least it was a pleasant feeling for a goddamn change.
The skull asked himself yet again at what fucking point exactly had his professionalism gone out the window? Distractions were dangerous in the field. He was here to do a job: find target, eliminate target, maybe get some intel in the process.
That’s all.
Simple.
Right?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Simon hated having a hurt foot.
It was maddening how much it slowed him down. Plus watching how much others had to slow down to match his pace bothered him immensely. He never liked when he felt he was inconveniencing others. Even in a small way like this.
He had his father to thank for that too, he guessed.
But more importantly… where the bloody hell did the woman disappear to?!
It had been fucking days!
Maybe she was gone.
Sent back to wherever she lived. Which hurt to think about.
Noises behind him grated severely on his fragile nerves. The entire damn room started asking questions all at the same fucking time.
How you holding up? Did you get enough sleep? When’d you eat last? And so forth.
The Brit glared angrily at the tea in his hand. Fucking hell. Busybodies.
A soft feminine laugh followed their rapid line of questioning. “Fine, not really, and I don’t remember.”
Frayed nerves relaxed. In all of Westforge, there was only one female and a sensation he’d never experienced, definitely not around others, washed over him once he heard her voice. The lieutenant was both inexplicably relieved and highly perplexed. He was happy because the little one was there again, but still didn’t understand why this seemed to only ever happen around her.
Also others talking to her so familiarly and affectionately was getting under his skin.
“That rush kept you fucking busy! Goddamn!” some random corporal chimed in. Simon pulled his hood farther forward, hiding how he glowered at the back of his head.
She quietly laughed as she stirred creamer into her coffee. “No shit. I sewed enough guys together to make a rug.”
Could he order these people to quit talking to her? Because they were still doing it and it bothered him. Just say hello and get the fuck out.
Simon watched, thoroughly irked, as soldier after soldier after soldier passed by the little one and greeted her. Why couldn’t they just tell her good morning? He’d have felt fine about that. Kind of.
But no, every goddamn one of them had to hug her, pat her on the head, and talk to her all nice-like. What in the fresh fucking hell? Why the affection? Why did everyone have to touch her?
… Why couldn’t he?
Ghost immediately flushed hard under his balaclava upon realizing why he hated everything about this so much.
He wanted that to be him.
To stand close to her again. To be on the receiving end of that smile.
Gloved fingers tugged at his jumper as he retreated even further into the hood and adjusted the balaclava under his eyes to be sure it covered the tops of his cheeks. Thoughts like this had no business being in his head during deployments.
A tall black-haired guy in his gym clothes casually walked in and began to make his own coffee beside her. Then they smiled at one another as he embraced her in a side hug, her head resting against his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.
And a cold, crushing weight slammed into the Brit’s chest. Clearing a burning lump from his throat, the lieutenant stood and left the room.
He couldn’t take watching anymore.
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ladycamillewrites · 2 years ago
Text
Against the Odds
Chapter 10 - Don't be sorry
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warnings: pregnancy stuff, emotional scenes, cussing
masterlist
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“Chris? Can you hear me?“
“Tom! G’day mate! I know I might’ve overstrained your nerves yesterday“ Chris sighed, suddenly feeling a bit guilty for throwing the overwhelming piece of information at his best friend on a random Thursday night. Wile he was out with Benedict.
“No, it’s- I… fuck, man“ Tom’s husky voice echoed through the Aussie’s phone, self-doubts were battling rays of hope for a brighter future in his voice. “I’m in Dubai right now“
Short silence.
“Erm, you are where?“ 
“Dubai. It’s a three hour layover but those guys have quite the comfortable business class lounge“ Tom replied, the rattling of cutlery adding to the background noises.
The gears in Chris’ head shifted fast, the realization of what his best friend was doing set in like a lightning. But honestly he didn’t expect anything else. Tom was a good man with a strong heart.
“Oh god, thank ya. Y/n is” he stopped for a second “Well, she needs you“, his voice vanishing in a whisper as he heard your high-pitched curse from upstairs. Perhaps the baby was giving his sister some thundering headaches again. A muffled giggle resounded from the actor’s vocal cords whereas Tom was on red alert.
“Is she alright? God, I should’ve come far earlier“ the Brit sighed, doing a desperate facepalm and his left forearm landed on the table with a dull smack. The Arabian specialties he ordered smelled tantalizing however, his hunger was gone.
“Bro, calm down. It’s probably just the baby doing it’s first moves. She always complains about how it tickles on the inside and she can’t do anything about it“ the Thor actor explained, trying to take the guilt from his friend. There was no real need to make him insecure by telling the first conjecture about the reason of your cry. 
“Thank god. It sounds like her“ Tom chuckled lightly, freeing his forehead from the strong grip of his hand. Planes were taking off and pushing back behind the thick windows giving him hope to finally be reunited with the woman he loved more than anything else.
And his unborn child.
“So, If nothing gets in the way I’ll be arriving in Brisbane at 2pm“. 
“I’ll pick you up, bro. Have a nice flight“ Chris hurried to say goodbye before his secret phone call would blow up.
You were bustling all around the house, finding something new to do every five minutes. The second trimester, despite of small movements of the baby and occasional migraine, was flooding you with energy and motivation to do the most random stuff at even more random times. 
“Arielle? Where are you?“ Liam’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Bathroom. Thor tries to eat my bikini bottooooooms“ you yelled back, the panic in your voice amusingly audible. The fluffy Australian Shepherd was a sweetheart. Mostly. But sometimes he turned into Satan himself and tried to annoy the hell out of you.
“Thor tries to do what?“ Your youngest brother asked, the wicked entertainment obvious. Of course he found that funny. “When you finished laughing could you please get your pretty ass up here and put that dog away-ahhhhh!“.
Liam bit his hand to repress a roaring laughter while Chris fist banged on the counter top. Another desperate try to keep it in whereas your agitated curses echoed from above. Their gazes met and both knew they were absolutely defeated. Bursting out in crippling laughter the brothers bathed in your suffering. 
“Liam and Chris fucking Hemsworth! I know y’all grinning like a shot fox. M’ gonna kill you by drowning in the sea“ you cried out before dull thuds announced you descending the stairs and approaching your brothers with the chewed string of wet fabric menacingly in your hand. “Nooo, don’t“ Liam cried out running away from you like a scared, giggling child. You were a mess with your brothers but hell, no one cared so it was just perfect. 
“You’ll buy me a new crossie, friend“ you pointed at Chris who was still choking on a slice of mango. “Why should I?“ He threw his hands up in despair before the salivated fabric hit his naked torso with a wet smack. You weren’t to play games with right now but secretly you enjoyed the childish banter.
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*ding-dong*
“Arielle, could you please accept the mail?“ Chris yelled from out of the garage. He just got back from grocery shopping and you were the only one dry and inside since your nephews were having quality time with their mother in the pool. Reluctantly, you got up, hasty legs carrying you towards the big, white door. 
Lost in thoughts about Tom, the few months you relished in a perfect life with him London, you twisted the doorknob.
“Hello, my love“.
Your jaw dropped, hands flying up to cup your cheeks as the man you were thinking about nonstop stood in the doorframe, a pretty bouquet made out of lilies and roses in his hands. It felt like you were frozen, as if the person who played you as character just paused the game while Tom’s coy yet incredibly charming smile dazzled your widened eyes. 
“May I come-“ he began, but the baritone voice you had missed so much died as your lips sealed with his. It was as if there had never been a second of pause, not even the slightest touch of difference. It was beautiful whereas you felt horrible inside. Hot tears teetered in the brink of your eyelids, ready to stain Tom’s notorious blue sweater.
“I missed you, darling“ he breathed as you parted for a second, causing the dam of your eyes to breake and gushes of salty tears streamed down you reddened cheeks. 
You had basically abandoned him, left him without a trace and only a ludicrous excuse of a letter. Nevertheless, the man stood right here in front of you smiling thorough his own emotionality with the biggest doe eyes. He wasn’t angry, was he?
Honestly, you couldn’t even blame him if he was.
“Listen, Tom I- I am so fucking sorry” it blurted out of you, unable to meet his ocean blues and turning away from the door instead. Your step away allowed the Brit to enter, however, you were trying to get a safe distance. A few feet that would spare you from his beautiful face contorted in disappointment like a Bernini statue.
“Love, please” 
“No, I can’t. There’s no adequate excuse for what I have done. I should have spoken to you before I left. I should’ve told you that I am…” your voice died in the sore passageway of your throat. Tom was unaware of your biggest secret, wasn’t he?
A whole damn child spending it’s thirteenth week of live in your belly was a hell of a secret. You felt like crumbling apart.
“Pregnant? I know, y/n” Tom’s soothing voice hoisted your gaze from the floor, rays of hope sparkling in your eyes and the broadly smiling man came closer. Was he alright with it? Would he possibly want to have a child with you? A thousand scenarios rumbled through your agitated mind, images of your happy family life fighting the idea of raising him or her alone.
“How do you-“ you began, your boyfriends sharp jawline pointing at your brother as he nodded agreeing wordlessly. Chris sat in the staircase grinning like a Cheshire Cat and holding both thumbs up in an affirmative gesture. Of course. How could you’ve been so stupid to tell him and not expecting him to tell his best friend who happened to be the father. 
You scoffed, grabbing Tom’s hand and pulling him across the whole living room until you reached the terrace, elaborately peppered with exotic plants and a few loungers. Peaceful and peace was definitely what you desired the most. Inner peace with yourself and the man you were ready to lose everything else for. 
“I found out the night of the London Awards but I was already in the tenth week. Remember when I stumbled and you dragged me to the ER?” you whispered, hands playing with vivid petals of the bouquet Tom had bought you. Oh, the scent was heavenly reminding you of the unique lilly-scented washing powder Tom used for his dress shirts. 
Probably not a coincidence but a gentle innuendo.
“Oh god. Why- Why didn’t you tell me?” He panted, looking up from the glass table that separated you like bars of a mental prison. His question weighed heavy on your delicate shoulders, the tickle of your baby’s first tries of movements added oil to the fire that spread across every single sense. It felt shitty, as if you had committed a felony.
“Fuck“ you sighed, hiding your sensitive face in the last fortress of small hands. You had hurt him and blatantly so. Shifting uncomfortable on the soft leather, you stopped as his gentle fingertips brushed your bare knees, slowly pushing the hem of your dress upwards, calculated wave-like motions. “Thomas, I didn’t mean to fool you. I really didn’t. It was just… I-“ you began to stammer mid-sentence.
“Shhh“ he calmed your troubled mind, squatting from the leathery surface and reaching to grab your waist. A gentle flex of his exposed forearms lifted you upwards, coaxing you to straddle his lap. His scent invaded your nostrils like sedative gas, his touch melted your spent muscles like lava melts snow. It felt like the exact same home you left three weeks ago.
Guilt. That was what fueled your tears as soon as your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. You had left him. Pregnant. You could never properly excuse this although your choice had been influenced heavily by the greedy, destructive voices that wanted nothing but drama and heartbreak.
“I know, darling. I could never reproach you for what you did“ he whispered, the big hand continuously tracing little circles and other swirling patterns on your back. “But I sincerely hope that you can give us a second chance“ the Brit purred carefully. “Please, love. I need you“ the last words flew silently in the Australian breeze like a heavy promise. A promise to your ears only before it got carried away.
“Would you want me back? After…well, I left you?“ You murmured barely audible against the drenched fabric of his signature sweater. Your tears had devoured his whole shoulder but the relentless sun would dry it in an instant anyway. A bit of wetness was Tom’s smallest problem at the moment.
“I’ve never not wanted you, y/n. Since the day Chris introduced me to you again I knew you would play the leading role my own, personal movie. God, I have thought about you since that day. Nonstop, not until this very second“ 
“Can we take a break from the world? Just us and the people who don’t judge for a little while? I need to get my life- we need to get our life sorted“ you paused for a little sigh, slightly hesitant to mention the ‘issue‘. “Especially since she’s with us“.
“So… you think it is a girl? Our baby?“ Tom breathed, the words sinking in like hot ash burning all his previous experiences and nurturing the new life he would be building with you. And with whoever little wonder was hiding in your womb. It was much to take in. “Our baby“ he repeated almost absent-mindedly, thoughts trailing off to how he would be a father in about… wait.
“How far along are you, love?“ The question dragged you out of the gleeful bliss of watching Tom’s gorgeous face contort in pure awe. “Fourteenth week so in the beginning of the second trimester“ you began to explain, your boyfriend’s lips twitching with every new piece of vulnerable information he got. You could almost smell his adorable excitement. 
“Wow” his soft baritone cooed, almost in sync with your giggle. “With you wearing this loose dress I could never have guessed”.
“And yes, somehow I have the feeling it’s a girl. She’ll have your beautiful curls, Tommy“. You smiled so freely and happily for the first time in a long time. Your cheeks wandered up to give way to proud, curling lips and your pregnancy glow reflected the sun like a touch of divinity. He always wanted to have children once and with you being their mother, the actor couldn’t be any happier. He never had been to be exact, in none of his earlier relationships.
Tom hummed in approval, returning your smile before your delicate hand grabbed his, guiding it towards your stomach but he stopped, steel blue doe eyes searching for consent. He was a gentleman of the first waters. Always. Even if it was about his own flesh and blood growing like a wonderful flower.
“Go on“ you smiled coyly, gaze fixed on the Brit’s unique facial features scanning them for any sign of reaction as he touched your small bump. It wasn’t too big yet but clearly visible now that you brushed the fabric of the dress. “Christ“ he breathed, a sudden warmth spreading from his palms like a calming balm. You could feel how she was enjoying her dad’s touch.
For the first time knowingly.
“You’re gonna be a father, Thomas Hiddleston“ you snickered. The angelic sound of your words and their overwhelming meaning dragged the curly haired Brit out of his trance and back into the reality he would cherish and treasure like a guard dog. 
“We- we’ll have a baby“ he eventually whimpered with a sniffy tone. The man had lost control over his words or expressions. “I thought it was impossible for me“ you mused, smiling to yourself at all the comments and bottomless accusations Nate had planted in your mind.
Bullshit. It had all been bullshit and Tom, the real love of your life, had proven it.
Nate could proudly go fuck himself because you had everything you wanted. 
But deep down you knew this triumph wouldn’t be for too long. In a few months the premiere of ‘The Moralizer‘ would take place with compulsory attendance for you and Tom. Logically the world world would know if you came.
However, you wanted to keep this piece of heaven for as long as it lasted. In private.
“God, y/n. You're growing a wonder. I can’t wait to meet him“ he chuckled pulling you in a gentle kiss and lavishly toying with your lower lip. He was devastatingly seductive as always but suave in his tender touch.
“Him? So you don’t think it’s a girl?“ You mused against his wet lips, both of your mouths curling in fond smiles and giggles. 
“Hmmm“ he hummed, the dark timbre of his voice always remaining you of Loki, the Asgardian god you had a massive movie-crush on since the first Thor movie and naturally it got progressively worse. To your defense, you weren’t alone. “No. It’s gonna be a daddy’s boy“.
“Tommy! What even is my role then? You cannot just claim little Hiddles!“ 
“Excuse me? Little Hiddles?“ Tom chuckled, butterflies swirling in his belly at your face all scrunched up in mischievous laughter and of course the cute nickname you had given the baby. He would copy that most definitely. ‘Little Hiddles’ he repeated in his head, pride swelling in his chest, the thought of you as the mother of his child was simple in it’s nature but utterly beautiful.
“Y/n, Tom? Can we talk for a second?“ A shy Elsa peeked around the corner of the brick column. She had been an angel since your arrival, the second person to know of your pregnancy in general and the best source of productive help you got so far. She had three kids after all.
“Sure, and thank you for letting me stay, Elsa. Truly“ Tom unwrapped his charming, British smile making Elsa return it a mere blink of an eye. This man was a honeytrap for every breathing being, a fluffy looking predator that could lure anyone he wished. But it was you who owned his pure heart. You and baby-Tommy, of course.
“You’re something like my brother-in-law so how could I say no?“ She giggled, sitting down opposite of you. “Have you told him about the appointment and the little thing we’ve planned?“ 
You but your lower lips, sudden nervousness cursed your veins at the thought of today’s ultrasound appointment. The biggest one in a while and with a little luck, the doc would be able to determine the gender. Hopefully, everything was alright with your little wonder. You couldn’t bear any complications in this emotionally vulnerable state. Not with the newfound happiness Tom brought with him from London. 
“Well, erm I thought you c- can“ you begun to stutter like a child, your gaze jumping from Tom’s right eyes to his left. “She has a big exam today and now that the daddy is here…“ Elsa tried to help you, nodding affirmatively until the words slipped from your tongue.
“Would you like to come with me?“ 
“If you would have me, dove“ Tom cooed with excitement tugging at his lips.
Chris’ wife was slowly melting but not from the Australian sun, no, from the utter cuteness of the whole scenario. It felt like the final, happy reunion in a rom-com with the best actors on the planet. To her you definitely were.
“And Elsa wants to organize a gender reveal party if that’s okay with you, baby“ you snickered against his muscular chest, the training for Skull Island and the Moralizer was still showing off so seductively. If everything was going well later, Tom would definitely not be allowed the leave the bedroom tonight. 
You were touch starved and so was he, his hips subtly bucking as you leaned back, temptingly putting your cleavage on display for him.
Oh, the passion never died.
“I can hear it in your voice, dove. You would love this, wouldn’t you?“ He mocked playfully, long digits flying to hold you in place. “Maybe“. The giggle spoke volumes, making the handsome Brit set up the serotonin-boosting smile you loved so much about him. The shiny teeth reflected the sun like luxurious pearls while you drowned in the ocean and sky blue shades of his almond eyes.
A beautiful man and all yours. Hopefully, forever.
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“Ready? It could feel a bit cold“ the doctor asked for consent before applying the ultrasound probe on your bump. It tickled, felt weird but Tom was sitting right next to you caressing your arm and smiling like an exited kid. You wouldn’t know whether it was a girl or a boy since Elsa planned the party for you. 
The doc knew so everything that came out of his mouth were the standard affirmations. You smiled at Tom, watching him look at the monitor with an awe-struck expression painting his sharp facials.
Fuck Nate. This was exactly what you wanted. This man and this little family.
But his smile died, brows furrowed in confusion as the doctor mumbled incoherent phrases to himself, moving the probe across your belly as if he was searching something. 
“Ehm, is everything alright?“ Your dry voice was shaking and Tom’s big hand grabbed your left hand. The tension was palpable and thousands of bad scenarios began to flash in your irritated mommy-mind. 
“Oh, sorry! Yes, it is actually all good twice“ he explained, fingers moving on the monitor to make measurements or whatever this device was capable of. 
Your confused gaze met your boyfriend’s equally puzzled ocean blues, both unable to process what the doctor was trying to imply. 
“You didn’t know?“ The older man asked again, an exited grin on his thin lips. “Sorry, know what?“
“You’re expecting twins, Ms Hemsworth“ 
“I beg your pardon?“ It blurted out of Tom, disbelief written all over his gorgeous face like an emotional love letter. The shock turned into a sweet realization as the monitor got turned and you saw the two tiny beings sharing your belly like roommates.
“Well, the babies are a bit small for your stage of pregnancy but it's nothing to worry about. Both seem perfectly healthy“.
Two babies.
“Oh my god“ you breathed, mouth agape from feeling you couldn’t even describe properly. Of course, you were overwhelmed for more than just a blink of an eye and maybe would need some days to really process this. However, the main emotions were pure luck, happiness and pride swelling in your fast pounding heart when glassy eyes met Tom.
* beep beep *
“Oh, excuse me for a minute“ the friendly doctor nodded, the honest smile on his face silently congratulating the happy couple before the he left. 
“Twins, darling! You’re a wonder“ Tom sobbed, sweet tears rolling down the sharp path of his cheekbones until they hit your naked belly. It felt so wholesome yet utterly distant as you sat up, back against Tom’s chest and both staring at the on-hold image the doctor captured. 
At first you thought you would never have a baby and now… two little creatures sleeping safe and sound in your bump. The natural consequence of your love to the most perfect man on earth.
“I- I don’t… we have to buy twice as much clothes?!“ It blurted out of you, realization slowly setting like dawn. Tom just chuckled, the deep sound intertwining with happy sobs and vibrating against your neck. He held you tight, one hand sinking down to cup your belly in such loving manner, the twins would surely notice.
“Looks like I have to order two Loki jumpers then“. “Sorry, you ordered what?“ You bursted out in laughter swiftly turning your shoulders to face the grinning man. He was Loki, there was no doubt. But the stubble of his beard was kind of distracting to the image of the ethereal trickster nevertheless, you loved it as much. 
“You will be an amazing father, Tom“ you snickered, the tip of your nose touching his before his pointer brushed your chin and coaxed you into a passionate kiss. Tongues were swirling around each other, tears were mingling at your touching cheeks. This moment was one to treasure, one that was burnt deep in your memory. One that you shared with Tom forever and maybe would think about again when your twins had kids of their own…
“I’m so sorry I left you. Is there any way I could-“ but Tom was quick to interrupt “Love, we talked about this. No more apologies because I am happier than ever“ he breathed in between the heated kiss. Perhaps it grew a bit out of control, his greedy hands melting in the curves of your hips.
“Guys, I’ve heard you’re-“ Elsa stumbled in the room, the handle of her bag getting caught on the doorknob. With heavy pants you parted, mentally thanking the door for distracting your sister-in-law. There was no need for her to see you almost making out in the examination room of the local hospital, right?
“Twins!“ You grinned like a Cheshire Cat while it was still dawning on you that this meant twice the work, twice the fatigue and twice the bustle.
But hell, as if you couldn’t manage it with Tom on your side. You were ready for this luck of a challenge and so was your boyfriend, agog to tell his mom. You’ve met her already, even visited her a few times and she was so adorable. The perfect grandmother, you were sure.
Elsa squeaked like an overly exited child, jumping around to pull both of you in a hug. “Congratulations, you two“ she chirped, suddenly pulling back to stare at you with eyes widened and a silent o on her lips. “Oh gosh! I have to double up all the decoration and stuff“ it blurted out of her bestowing you a good round of laughter.
Unbeknownst to you the doctor returned, your documents and files in his hands.
“Mister Hiddleston, do you know your blood type by any chance?“ He intervened, the smile in his voice audible as the sweet serotonin swirling in the air infiltrated him as well. 
“A negative, sir“ his answer came like shot leaving Elsa and you startled, exchanging funny looks as the doc completed the entries in your maternity record. “Well, you could shoot me in the leg and I wouldn’t know“ your best friend quipped nudging Tom in the side to elicit some kind of explanation.  
Tom’s amused chuckle warmed your heart as you smoothened your blouse again, turning on the medical couch, your legs dangling freely. “While filming Skull Island they needed to know in case anyone got injured in the backland of Vietnam“ he explained, smiling at all the interesting memories he made.
“Have you heard that mini-Hiddlestons? Your daddy is a pretty cool guy“ you cackled, caressing the small bump hidden by comfortable leggings.
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“Twins? Are you kidding me mate?“ Chris’ deep voice echoed through the whole house as Tom proudly presented the ultrasound picture the doc gave you. “What?“ India squeaked running towards her daddy and swiftly grabbing the photo. Logically, it was just a weird black and white image of something she was far too young to realize but her youthful joy was unstoppable. 
“Like Tristan and Sasha?“ She asked Tom, small eyebrows furrowed in concentration to process the gleeful situation. India had idolized her aunt y/n since the day she was born and finding out there would be more kids in her family soon was totally awesome to her.
“Exactly. Maybe this kind of luck runs in the Hemsworth-blood?“ Tom joked patting his bro’s shoulders; the man as hard as rock yet fighting happy tears like a toddler. “You have no idea what multiplying this kind of work means“ your big brother tried to detract from his emotionality but Tom just laughed it off.
There was no space for worries or fears right now. Just bliss.
“Chris, what the hell?“ Liam intervened crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. The youngest brother sometimes actually was the most reasonable. “Are you really just terrifying him? Give this man a break“.
“Exactly, Chris. Listen to your brother“ you feigned seriousness while jumping on Liam’s back letting him carry you around the house like a human horse. “To the fridge“ you commanded strictly, extending one arm with your fingers pointing to the kitchen.
The mini-Hiddles were hungry so the mango in the fridge was destined to die.
The other mango you knew was certainly better suited for more private times…
“Lucky you. The last few days she wanted me to drive her to Macca’s“ Chris sighed, getting up to indulge his begging daughter’s wish to go play with Thor. Tom was left turning around on the couch, his right arm resting on the backrest so that he could watch his beautiful y/n bickering with her brother. She was perfect, curling the corners of lips upwards with ease. 
After you were finished arguing with Liam on how to cut a mango the right way, you were huddled up in Tom’s strong arms, the two of you enjoying the privacy at the pool. Light blue pool lights were creating flickering and swaying rays with the tiny waves rippling across the water surface. It was so peaceful, and so was your heart. Almost.
“Tommy?“ “Hmm?“ He hummed, eyes closed and tired from the excruciatingly long day. A stop-over flight, a fateful talk and finding out he was gonna be the dad of twins had the Brit’s mind dizzy.
However, it was a good kind of dizzy, the way you would feel after a fun rollercoaster ride. 
“What do you say about taking some time off? I want to to savor this with you before we have to face reality again“ you spoke, barely audible in the valley between his biceps and torso. You knew it was going to happen and the media outcry would be heavy. Needless to say you weren’t keen on Nate’s fucking stupid comments. 
But they would meet your ears soon enough and you wanted to be prepared.
“Of course. I already told my manager about a break due to personal reasons. Are three weeks fine with you, darling?“ He cooed, dexterous digits toying with a strand of your hair sprawled across his bare chest. You could feel his defined pectorals flexing as his arm reached out to cradle your figure lovingly. 
“More than fine, my love“ you grinned up at him. “We will be stronger than ever“ He added while his ocean blues wandered your bikini clad body greedily. Oh, how well you knew this look and what would follow. 
“I hope so, Tommy. But let’s not waste time on those idiots, shall we?“ You chirped, his subtle beard tickling your delicate skin as your lips sealed agin.
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a/n: twins guyssss 🎉 let's see if the newfound happiness lasts
tags: @crimson25 @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @lovingchoices14 @ozymdias @vbecker10 @coldnique @lokixryss @simplyholl @peaches1958 @lokibadguy @jennyggggrrr @stephenstrangeaddictions @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mischief2sarawr @mypsychoticlove @mochie85 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @simping-for-marvel @lady-rose-moon @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @vickie5446 @buffyfan2833 @12-pm-510 @ladymischief11 @somewiseguy @woooonau @cabingrlandrandomcrap @alchemxx @honeyrydernot
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gaysullengirl · 8 months ago
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𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐚𝐫
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❝  i don't wanna fuck with your head, it’s
breaking my heart to keep breaking yours again.” -
don’t wanna break up again, ariana grande
    Isabelle clutched her purse as she walked onto the jet, it was three AM, the team has just caught the unsub- Robert Parker, everyone was exhausted to say the least.
She noticed how Spencer glanced at her before attempting to discreetly look away, Isabelle sat down in the seat farthest away from everyone.
Luckily the plane ride wasn't far, when everyone returned to the office Hotch spoke, " Reid, Cruz, can I see you in my office?"
Isabelle walked up the stairs with Spencer following behind her, "Sit." Hotch told the pair.
"Both of your behavior on this case was highly inappropriate." Isa narrowed her eyes and suppressed the urge to scoff.
Yes she had initiated the argument with Spencer, but Isabelle hated admitting her weaknesses or mistakes- so she pretended she wasn't in the wrong.
"Sir, I'm sorry, I know it was and it won't happen again." Spencer apologized.
Hotch narrowed his eyes toward Isabelle, she sighed, "I apologize, it won't happen again." she grabbed her things and walked to the elevator, just before the doors shut Spencer ran in.
"Look, I'm sorry and I think we should talk, how about we go to my apartment." He offered, Spencer wasn't sure if he despised Isabelle or adored her, but he knew he hates arguing with her.
"Fine" Isabelle clenched her jaw.
When they walked into Spencer's apartment a wave of sadness washed over Isabelle, she noticed objects that used to be in their shared apartment.
Spencer set his bags down and walked to the kitchen, "Do you want a cup of coffee?" "Do you have alcohol?"
Spencer grabbed his only bottle of alcohol- Vodka, it was a birthday gift from Rossi that he never opened, he brushed the light layer of dust off of it and poured it into a glass.
"Sorry, I don't have shot glasses." He admitted handing the drink to Isabelle, "It's fine."
"You have a lot of books." She observed out loud, she read every spine until one caught her attention, 'The Bell Jar' she grabbed it, "You still have it." Isabelle held back a smile, "Yeah of course" he replied. 
"I remember staying up all night and annotating it for you." She smiled at the memory, "Yeah that was a really sweet gift" Spencer smiled.
Isabelle joined him on the couch and poured another shot for herself before drinking it.
They both sat in awkward silence waiting for the other to speak first.
Isabelle ran her finger around the rim of her glass, "I'm sorry for leaving you."
"It's okay." Spencer replied flatly while staring down at his fingers.
"Stop it, stop being so nice to me, please." she pleaded with tears slowly falling from her eyes, "Just be mad at me, call me a bitch, scream at me!"  Her voice cracked.
Spencer didn't respond, "I was such a bad person- I think I still am, you should hate me, I don't know why you're treating me so well- I was such a shitty girlfriend- and person." She said empathetically.
Spencer was frozen, he didn't realize how bad Isabelle felt, even after four years.
Spencer reached over to her hand that rested on the couch, he rubbed small circles with his thumb, tears threatening to spill from his eyes any second.
"I wish you would just hate me."
"I want to hate you, but I can't, maybe four years ago I would yell at you but seeing how bad you feel- I can't, I always thought you were living somewhere with a better guy, laughing about me." He admitted
Spencer looked up at her, "You're the only person I've ever felt completely comfortable with, was there something wrong with me?"
Isabelle swallowed, "No! I just couldn't handle it, being in a relationship, I was such a bitch and you were- you are... everything i've ever wanted."
The pair sat in awkward silence, "Im gonna go home." Isabelle grabbed her bag, "Wait you had two shots, how about I drive you?"
"No it's okay, I can walk." She said.
"Isa, it's five am, I'm not letting you walk home alone." "I have a gun." She argued.
"Just let me drive you, please." He asked, Isabelle nodded silently.
author's note!
i know i said i wouldn't be able to post this chapter until the weekend but i decided to shorten it so sorry this one is so short i pinky promise the next chap will be longer
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marshmallowsqoosh · 2 years ago
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[Sleep Token (Band) | Half Blind (WIP)]
I started this a while ago to deal with some life things but... I’m not entirely sure I’m gonna finish it? Anyways, here’s a 2k porn with plot/feels set up that I may or may not finish but I desperately wanted to say thank you to the Sleep Token fandom for being so lovely I’m just a really slow writer and life keeps Life’ing [sob]
Fandom: Sleep Token Title: Half Blind Rating: will eventually be Mature; this is mostly just 16+ CW: Concert shenanigans that lead to sex back at the hotel Lesser Warnings: Altered Physical State (Sleep gives His vessels gifts that cause mutations that they can mostly usually hide; II has multiple limbs and chelicerea (do not google that if you have arachnophobia, it’s a spider’s jaw),  Sleep is chill/supportive, Sleep is an eldritch horror that exists in an alternate plane of existence and manifests as tentacles to His vessels, Vessel is Sleep’s host, Not Beta’d, Incomplete
Summary: This is 2000% just my excuse to write III being a little bit of a brat and Vessel being exasperated with him. (aka my bestest enabler sent me a video of Granite live and III yelling Give it to me! right before the breakdown and it did things to me)
extras. Status: incomplete word count. ~1997
Give it to me!
One of the simplest collection of words. They stick to Vessel for the rest of the performance—well after they've closed out and returned to the hotel. He genuinely wants nothing more than to drag III back to their room—suddenly understands why they doubled up instead of all four of them just sharing a room—but II stops him, making sleepy, half-hearted grabby hands at his back.
"Ves… sleepy kiss." II's barely standing. IV catches him by putting a hand on his shoulder when he sways and Vessel just sighs. It… was a more intense worship than usual. The crowds are growing, the stage is growing but it's still suffocating and hot in the flashing lights and too many bodies in a room.
He doesn't get a chance to confirm he hears the request, though; instead he's fighting down a pleased shudder and moan when III presses up to his back, dragging a hand up from the dip in his back to his shoulders with one hand, while his other arm hangs over Vessel's shoulder, mostly harmless.
Mostly, only because he's using it as an excuse to press his hand flat to Vessel's chest, fingers curling a little and tapping against the exposed flesh.
"Think we all earned sleepy kisses, yeah, Ves?"
He's grateful Sleep manifesting is enough to cover the small moan in his throat; the rift forming on his back always feels weird enough without III being flush against him… and then he just feels weirdly cold when the bassist backs up just enough that two of Sleep's appendages can wriggle out of their plane of existence, eagerly moving around Vessel so He can tap the tip of one tentacle, gently, to II's forehead before trailing down the the side of his face and resting on his cheek. The other one presents to IV, waiting for permission—permission eagerly granted, by IV extending the hand not keeping II steady on his feet—and coiling around the extended arm until the tip can press gently to IV's cheek in the same manner.
You all did so marvelous tonight.
Sleep's voice is always… stronger after performances. It makes Vessel's ears ring and his head pounds a little, like he's knocked back too many shots at once, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the sensation. He feels III's hands resting on his hips, thumbs tracing gentle patterns into his back to distract him without getting closer and trapping Sleep.
My apologies, Vessel. You all must be very tired; please, rest, my devoted. Rest and let your bodies and mind heal in the afterglow of worship.
It's only when he feels a gentle tap of one of Sleep's tentacles against his back that he even realises a third one had been coiled around III the entire time. II nearly falls forward, trying to follow as the tentacle withdraws and IV's turned his hand upright so that the one around his arm drags across his palm in the process of returning to Vessel. They both look pleased and more tired than they did a moment ago.
That extends to you and III, as well, Vessel. I know you wish to lavish your praise unto III, but do not neglect yourself. I would greatly prefer both of you in good health, come morning.
Not for the first time, Vessel finds himself grateful for his mask and keeping his hood drawn up, as he feels a flustered heat spread up from his neck to the tips of his ears and try to move across his cheeks. He manages to catch III by the wrist before he gets too far away, hastily clearing his throat and hoping he doesn't sound like he's in too much of a hurry.
"Sleep extends His wishes for rest once more. We'll see you both in the morning. A word, first, if you don't mind, III."
He can tell the bassist is grinning at his back and can see him waving at the other two as he's pulled along. He doesn't bother looking back to see if II and IV go to their room or even really try to remember how close the rooms are. He knows their room and simply pulls III along until the door clicks shut and locked behind them.
IV blinks, slowly, and lets his attention stray down to II after a long moment of simply standing in the hallway. II sways a little on his feet, clearly already asleep and starting to lose the ability to hide his Gifts from Sleep as he yawns, wide, behind his mask and the chelicerae try to stretch out and puncture through his mask. His robe flutters a little to accommodate the manifestation of more of his arms and that's what finally gets IV to pick him up so they can relocate before they get found out.
"Ves knows we know they're fuckin', right?" Maybe he's just missed something about the pair, but it's always odd that they try to cover up what they're doing when… he's pretty sure everyone knows.
"Let him have this, IV." II slumps over his shoulder, two arms over each shoulder and a third set, along with his legs, curled around the guitarist's torso like he's trying to become a koala. He still sounds pleased and mostly asleep. "It makes Ves feel better and honestly… I think III gets off on it."
That… does actually make sense. It would definitely explain some of his behaviour on stage—not Sugar. They all talked about that before it was officially implemented; but, the… relatively new desire to engage the crowd with what should be innocent enough rallying of the audience. Except everyone else on stage knows he's doing his absolute damnedest to get a rise out of Vessel—between trying to get him to laugh and keep him from being too anxious on stage, III's also taken to being a borderline menace, sometimes.
But, that's quickly the last thing on IV's mind, as he gently kicks the door to his and II's room shut and he realises whoever goes through the process of booking them rooms made a very pointed effort to put a few rooms between them and shuffled Vessel and III off to a corner where they hopefully won't disturb anyone. ... A gratitude sadly short-lived as his entire focus is soon on trying to figure out how he gets out of the trap of II having fallen asleep with a death grip around him and resigning himself, fairly quick, to the fact this is just going to be how he ends up sleeping tonight and trying to find a comfortable way to lie down.
III laughs when Vessel pushes the door shut behind them and barely waits long enough for the man to ensure the door is locked before III pushes him against the door, hands on either side of his neck and fingers tapping a gentle rhythm against his jaw beneath the edge of his mask.
"A word, huh?" He feels a shudder go up his spine when Vessel's fingers slip under the bottom of his mask, pulling the fabric to pull III's face close enough that they're barely centimeters apart. A brush of lips against his just ends in a whine building in his throat as the mask stops him from seeking out more.
"Ves—"
"Patience." Vessel's voice is low. Even pushed against the door, he doesn't buckle under the whining and friction as III tries to get his way by pressing as close as he possibly can. He pulls at III's mask again, gentlylifting it off his head and making sure it's folded into his pocket before he runs his hands back through III's hair, mindful of his rings, even as he knots his fingers in the ends. "You've been… so patient already. Just a bit longer."
III's head tilts a little to follow the hands in his hair—a gentle pull, a pleasant sensation—and swallows, hard, when it exposes his throat. Vessel's mask is cold against flushed skin and he makes a pitched keening noise when he feels teeth graze the hollow of his neck and up over his Adam's apple.
"But—"
"On the bed." Vessel releases him and makes a gesture back towards the bed. It takes III a few seconds to get his bearings, to actually process the order. Vessel waits, patiently, even when III swears he hears the man stifling a laugh as the bassist nearly trips over himself in his attempt to turn and navigate the room. He starts to turn again, so he can sit, and ends up freezing when Vessel's suddenly at his back, breath warm on his neck and eliciting another shudder of anticipation. "Lie on your front for me."
He doesn't… really have a reason to argue. A selfish one, perhaps; but, not… really. He might be able to turn over later, so for now he simply obeys and carefully toes his shoes off without untying them—nudging them under the bed in the process—and crawls onto the bed, trying to center himself, and pulls a pillow under his chest as he lies down. Low enough he can kick his feet, a little, off the end of the bed. His attention perks a little bit when he sees Vessel set his mask on the room's desk and his robe is laid across its chair. The gentle clink of all of his necklaces being taken off and set on the desk, as well, is almost enough to lull III to sleep. Always something soothing watching Vessel shed his clothes, like peeling away the layers he used to hide himself from people, even when it was something as simple as his boots or jewelry.
Almost enough. He's alert again, the second Vessel crawls onto the bed over him, leaning down to kiss his shoulders and neck. III manages to reach back, fingers curling into Vessel's hair to hold him in place, a quiet moan escaping as he resists the urge to arch up into the singer's body.
"Ffffuck… c'mon, Ves. Said yourself I been patient, yeah? C'mon… give it to me." The words come out in a purr, still hopeful he'll get his way.
"You have been remarkably patient." Vessel's hand slips around III's neck, fingers curling gently to pull his head up and back, thumb pushing at his jaw, just enough to turn his head for a kiss without their masks in the way. A gentle kiss… that ends in Vessel biting at his lower lip—still gentle, but enough to jump all of III's senses—his voice lower than before. "And an absolute menace."
Okay, III might have been a little provocative on stage. On purpose. More than usual. Even during Sugar he may have dragged Vessel's hips against his a bit harder than they normally were, desperate for even a little bit of attention that he hasn't been able to get the past few nights.
Needy.
Vessel releases him and pries, carefully, at III's hand so he releases Vessel, too, and pushes his hand flat to the bed. Both of Vessel's cover III's and he carefully rearranges himself so he's sitting across the small of III's back, pushing him into the mattress and pinning him there, in the process. III whines, desperately, and just does his best not to squirm and draw this out more than he knows it's going to be. A difficult enough task with how much he wants Vessel on a normal day… a few days of nothing but the touches on stage and just being able to feel Vessel's arousal through his jeans, just above III's waistband…
He manages to twist his fingers with Vessel's, the way his hands are covered, and tries to breathe a little slower, a little deeper, to keep from begging. He might be regretting letting his feet dangle, now that he can't get purchase to try wriggling himself free—well. He could. But it'd be easier if he were on the bed proper.
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islandtarochips · 2 months ago
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Hi Bestie :3 just wondering, how do you think the WTF would react if they recieved this message?
"General Kalani? Captain Toa? First Lieutenant Toa? Can you copy? If you do, please, we require urgent permission to land in your base. This is Clover, I'm with the Specters. I-It's a medical emergency! We we're on a mission and the infantry squad was ambushed." Nicholas sounded slightly panicked while in the background someone was screaming in pain, and at the same time someone was ordering people around. "Right now our Captain is unconscious and bleeding, our Lieutenant and Sergeant are also out cold and with worrying wounds and we have Corporal García and Marcus with open wounds. Please, I beg you, if you recieve this...please let us land. I'm worried they wouldn't make it if we try to arrive to our base."
Hi Wiiiiiiiitch! And OMG! This is EXCITING to be honest! After reading this question, I have decided to make a one-shot out of this! Let's do it!
The General was having a discussion with Colonel Rangi before receiving this call. Her eyes widened as she recognized the name and the voice. “Clover? Where are you? How far?”
“O-Only a mile away, ma’am.” Nicholas’ heart started beating faster after hearing someone screaming in pain in the background. He was getting scared as his hands were shaking while gripping onto the wheel. “P-Please, we needed help!”
Alana looked at Rangi with a serious look but with worriedness in her eyes. She remained calm before ordering the Colonel. “Go and get someone to flag that plane down SAFELY! NOW!”
He nodded and wasted no time when he ran out of the room. While Alana sat on her seat and stayed on the phone with Nicholas. “Clover. I am here. You’ll be alright.”
Nicholas took a quick glance in the back to see Alicia, Luke and Jackson are still knocked out. And Noah and Marcus are screaming in pain from their open wounds. “I-Is Aelan there?”
“Don’t worry, I already texted her. I’ll be staying on the phone with you. Just BREATHE, Clover.” Alana told him to do so while speaking in her calm and soft voice. For a hard hearted woman, her voice sounded like a soft cloud hovering through Nicholas’ headphones.
He closes his eyes for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. His heart beat slowed down as he took another deep breath and listened to the General’s voice.
“Feeling okay now?” Alana asked as she was trying to contact Kanoa and Tiala.
“Y-Yeah…I’m okay.”
“Good. Now I want you to keep flying straight ahead and land where the marshallers are at. They will guide you down. Can you do that?”
The pilot saw the island of the Marine Corps Base ahead. He gripped onto the wheel and felt the determination sparking inside of him. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Alright then, land carefully. I’m getting Kanoa and Tiala on the phone. My daughter will be waiting for you and your team to take them into the medical center, alright?”
“Ok. We’re coming in a few minutes.”
Later on, Nicholas saw one of the marshallers signaling him to come down. He pushed the wheel down as he flew the aircraft to the open road. Then he safely landed before taking a quick breath as he leaned his back against his seat. He could hear footsteps and yelling in the background. He slowly glanced behind him to see the soldiers were already transferring his team onto the stretchers and moving out of the aircraft quickly.
His vision was a bit blurry from being tired when he felt so scared of losing them.
“Clover!” A woman’s voice called out to him. 
He turned his head as his vision was getting cleared to see Aelan jumping inside and running up to him. He was relieved to see a familiar face from the crowds as he tried to get up.
“Woah there buddy! Sit down!” Aelan said as she sat him back down before turning on her small flashlight. “Let me check on you.” The medic woman flashed onto his eyes and saw it looked fine. As his pupils reacted to the light. She was relieved and touched his forehead to feel any fever. “Feeling any nauseous, headaches, any amount of pain?”
Nicholas shook his head as he was tearing up. “I-I’m fine…” Then he saw the Marines had taken his team away. “A-Are they gonna be ok?”
“They will, Nik. Come on. I still need to take you to the medical center.” Aelan helped him up carefully and walked him down to the med bay.
After an hour or two, the Captain and the First Sergeant walked through the hallway of the med bay. As they were rushing, along with their two sergeants behind them. Agnes and Nigel.
The four had received bad news from their General about Alicia and her team. Which made Kanoa feel panicking once he heard her name was mentioned.
They all know how close Kanoa and Alicia were. Them from being coworkers into an ally. Then from being an ally into being friends. Friends to Best of Friends. And now, being like close siblings.
Tiala understands that. For she too feels that way with Alicia the time they have worked together. And hearing this had made her feel the opposite with Kanoa. For she could only feel anger in her heart. And once when she finds out who did this to her and her team. They will be sorry.
The two Sergeants were also feeling worried about the team. They may not know much about the Captain like how Kanoa and Tiala were. But they are friends with the other team members of the Specters Team.
Soon the four had made it to the med bay, where they saw Aelan was ordering most of the nurses to get the supplies that she needed. She was doing her best as she made sure that most of the patients were taken care of.
“I need five more of those packages for those two injured soldiers!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“You! Make sure those Oxygen tanks are FULL since we need them to stay ALIVE!”
“Of course!”
“YOU! Why the fuck are you still standing around here for?! We have FIVE people who need our help! Get off your ass and MOVE!”
Aelan has been yelling and ordering the people around with a bit of anger in her tone. Kanoa could see that and also could see the medic was stressing out. He quickly walked over to her and touched her hand.
“Hey hey hey. Onosa’i, Aelan.” Kanoa said softly, trying to get her attention. And calming her down.
Aelan turned her head to see Kanoa as her expression started to soften tiredly. Realizing what she was doing. She took a deep breath and calmed down before touching her face as she groaned. “I-I’m sorry, Noa…I’m just trying to make sure that she and the others are okay.”
“I know. You’ve been pressured. But I’m sure that Jackson doesn’t want you to feel this way, you know.”
Aelan smiled a bit at the Captain’s words. Of course, she could have imagined Jackson scolding her for not resting or taking it easy. So she nodded at Kanoa before Tiala interrupted.
“So what’s the status, doc? Are they gonna be ok?” The First Sergeant wanted to know about their conditions. Hoping and praying that it’s a good one.
Agnes stepped in as well. “W-What about Garcia and Marcus? Are they gonna make it?”
Nigel gently touched Agnes’ shoulder seeing her worried expression and her tone as well. Before looking up at the doctor. “Are they?”
The medic was in deep silence before she sighs. “Let me take you to see them.” She slowly turned around and walked ahead with Kanoa by her side.
The other three followed behind before they came into the first room. Where Garcia and Marcus were on the hospital bed. So much bandages on their waist, torso and on their legs.
It really hurts for Agnes and Nigel to see them like this. As their friends lay there in pain.
Nigel looked at his Captain with sadness in his eyes. “Captain…? Can we…?”
Kanoa knows what Nigel was going to ask. And he also knows how close those two are with them. So he smiled softly and gently patted the Sergeant’s shoulder. “Go on. Tia and I will check the other three.”
Nigel nodded before walking with Agnes inside to see the two.
Tiala took a peek inside to see Agnes was tearing up when she saw Noah. The Corporal was slowly opening his eyes and gave a weak smile to see his friend. The Sergeant gently touched his hand and tried her best to smile. Before seeing him closing his eyes tiredly.
While Nigel was smiling down at Marcus, who was tearing up as well to see a familiar face. He gave him a gentle hug as he gave his comforting words to him. Saying that he’ll be alright. It really touched Marcus’ heart as he hugged Nigel tightly.
Tiala could feel her heart soften to see the two sergeants comforting those two soldiers. Before walking with Kanoa and Aelan to meet the others. And as soon as they walked to the second room. Aelan paused at her tracks to see Nicholas sitting on his chair next to Alicia’s bed.
“Nicholas! You were SUPPOSED to be resting!” The medic started to scold this man as she walked up to him.
Causing the poor soldier to stand up in surprise as he tried to explain to her. “I-I’m sorry! But I couldn’t sit still! Not when…the Captain…is like this…”
His words had stopped Aelan. As she saw him gazing towards the unconscious Alicia.
Kanoa turned his gaze towards Alicia as well, lying there. As he started to feel like his soul had been drained out. He slowly walked over to her and stood next to the bed. And gently touched her hand as he held it tightly. “What happened?” The Captain’s voice suddenly sounded deep when he asked that question.
Nicholas took notice of his tone as he knew that Kanoa was being angry. Actually MORE than angry. So he decided to tell him everything that just happened.
“W-We were ambushed, sir. On a mission to stop one of the cartel leaders that was near the pacific. Getting close to here.” Nicholas started to tighten his grip as he tried to explain further. “We were supposed to take them down but…they caught us by surprise and we failed to succeed. Which causes the injuries for Noah and Marcus when they were about to take charge. And Luke and Jackson? Got hit against the wall. They…got hit pretty bad. That’s why they’re knocked out.”
“And Alicia?” Tiala asked as she saw Nicholas had frozen in place. Seeing his lips was quivering a bit as he was too nervous to speak.
But Aelan had stood beside him and gently touched his arm. “It’s ok Nicholas. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Nicholas looked at Aelan and then at Kanoa and Tiala. His tears started to show as he held onto the medic’s hand. To show that he wanted to tell them. Of what happened to her.
“Sh-She got stabbed…by the cartel leader…I-I was trying to get up but they pulled me back. Making me watch the Captain fall down.” Nicholas' voice had started to tremble as he remembered that scene that kept playing inside his head. His friends were getting injured and Alicia was bleeding to death. “I-I could’ve done SOMETHING! I could’ve fought BACK!”
“But even if you did. They will kill you right there and then. And you won’t be able to bring them HERE.” Aelan had tried to reassure this poor man’s thoughts of him not doing anything. Hearing this from him had really aching their hearts.
Nicholai looked at her with despair in his eyes as his tears slowly ran down on his cheeks like a river that will never stop running. He quickly hugged her, begging for comfort. Which she gladly gave him.
Kanoa had gone through that before. After remembering the loss of his older brother. It had given him determination to stop this cartel leader and his men. He looked back at Alicia who was still unconscious. Gripping onto her hand. He started to speak. “Tia, go and get the two sergeants.”
Tiala perked up to look at her brother and nodded. “Sure.”
Aelan, who was still hugging Nicholas, looked at the Captain. KNOWING of what he was planning to do. “Noa, please. You will get hurt.”
The Captain had let go of Alicia’s hand before turning to face her. “We won't. We'll finish the Specters’ team job. Before those cartels could do any more damage here in the Pacific.”
Nicholas quickly leaned back as he looked at Kanoa with surprise. He shook his head. “S-Sir! Don’t! They are VERY dangerous! They might kill you and the team as well!”
Despite what this airman was trying to say. Kanoa just gave him a smile.
“We’ll be fine. Besides, there is ONE thing that those people should know about us.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow in questioning as Kanoa walked out of the room with Tiala. Before turning his head back at him. “Is that they have fucked up the WRONG people to mess with. And they are in OUR ocean.”
Aelan smiled a bit as she touched Nicholas’ shoulder before looking at both Kanoa and Tiala. “You guys better come back in ONE piece.”
Kanoa winked with a grin as he always does. “No promises there, doc. And Nik, helped Aelan here to take care of your uce. Alright?” The Captain gave him a soft smile to see Nicholas respond with a nod. He looked at Tiala. “Tatou o.”
Soon the two left the room as they went to get their team together. And they promised that they’ll give those criminals HELL. For Alicia and her team.
THE END
Whoo! That took a while to finish! I hope you're ok with this one, Witch! And I LOVE it of how you bring me these kind of ask in my inbox! Makes me want to write of how close these two teams can be! Thank you so much, pele! Love ya!
Characters:
Kanoa Toa -> Me
Tiala "Shark" Toa -> Me
Agnes "Blast" Falagi -> Me
Nigel "Squirrel" Harrison -> Me
Aelan Kalani -> Me
Alana Kalani -> Me
Alicia "Origin" Marchant -> @deeptrashwitch
Luke "Harlem" Michaelis -> @deeptrashwitch
Jackson "Doc" Blackwell -> @deeptrashwitch
Nicholas "Clover" Fowlett -> @deeptrashwitch
Marcus "Poison" Lombardi -> @deeptrashwitch
Noah "Cobalto" García -> @deeptrashwitch
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elliessub · 2 years ago
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Quiet, Baby
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Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
Summary: This is NOT how you wanted your first impression to go
Genre: Smut, fluff, modern!AU, drabble
Warnings: Fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), dom!Ellie, sub!reader, getting caught, Joel being very supportive and sweet, embarrassment, Ellie being commanding, teasing, petnames, praise
Word count: 580
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
"Joel! We're here!" Ellie yells into the house as she unlocks the door with a key she has, pushing both your suitcases inside the house.
There was no response, which confused Ellie. Someone was always home.
"Joel? Tess?" She yells, waiting for a reply only for it to never arrive. Ellie checks her phone, seeing a message from Joel she must've missed while on the plane.
Adopted papa: Will be out of the house until 4pm. Don't wait up for dinner. Can't wait to meet your new girlfriend.
The text made Ellie blush as she looked at you, giving you a small smile. "Looks like we're alone until 4 pm," she pauses for a moment, lips pulling into a smirk, "Wanna see my old room?"
And that's how you ended up in your current position, moaning as Ellie's fingers worked their magic, pumping in and out of you with incredible accuracy in hitting your G spot. You fisted the sheets beneath you as she instructed you to keep your arms by your side which was absolute torture. All you wanted was to touch her, to feel her.
"Atta girl. Being so good for me baby, fuck, so beautiful." She grunts out as she lowers herself to lay on her stomach, fingers still fucking you, face so close to your pussy you swear you could already feel her tongue against your clit.
Then finally she lowers her mouth to your pussy, lips wrapping around your clit and the tip of her tongue licking thoroughly as she sucks your clit into her mouth.
"Ahhh! Ellie!" You moaned out, grabbing her hair to try and push her into you more. 
She growled as she grabbed your wrist from her hair, her mouth stopping its work on you. "What did I say about touching?" Her eyes pierced into yours as you let out a bratty whine, watching your wetness stain her chin and lips.
"Wanna touch you, Els," you mumbled out, clenching and unclenching your fingers as Ellie held your wrist more firmly.
"You don't get to touch, pretty," she said as she brought your hand back down your side, instructing you to once again keep it there as she resumed her previous task of eating you out.
It didn't take you long to feel the familiar build of orgasm in your stomach. The pleasure building up higher and higher until-
"Hey kiddo, we're home early!" Ellie's adoptive father's voice calls out as he opens the door to her old bedroom, before quickly shutting it again. "I didn’t see nothin'!" He yells.
Ellie jumps away from you, cheeks, neck and ears red from embarrassment, "Joel! Knock next time for fuck’s sake!"
You grabbed the blanket that was thrown next to you as you quickly covered yourself with it, even though Joel wasn't in the room anymore. Thankfully only your bottom half was exposed, unthankfully that means your girlfriend's dad saw your naked pussy. 
"Well….uh, I see you two are a bit preoccupied, but do try to wrap up because Tess and I would love to meet her."
"Joel, please!" Ellie yells exasperated.
There was a beat of silence as you thought he left, "By the way, she's very pretty." Joel says, a deep chuckle coming from him.
"Joel!" Ellie yells one more time until you finally heard footsteps walking away. Ellie turns to you, "You okay, baby?"
You blushed as you covered your eyes with your hands, "That was not how I wanted to meet your dad."
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hrefna-the-raven · 2 years ago
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Silver lining
First date - tell me more, tell me more - Black velvet dress - Cloudy mornings and sweet bareness - Kiss me, you fool - Waiting in the wings - You're only falling now? - Morning dew and dances - Cannibalypse now - Blood in the water
Words: 1051
Summary: Timmy reminisces about what happened to him, giving Hunter hope while also sowing fear regarding Kelvin.
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Tim stood over Kelvin's bloody body, sweat pouring down his face. He was an expert in only a very specific field of science but now he was forced to use his knowledge in a life and death situation. He had done what he could to close the wound, but he knew it was only a temporary fix. It all depended on Kelvin's will to live and if the wound would get infected or not, but the chances of him surviving were dangerously low. What bugged Tim the most was that time was running out as he nervously glanced at his watch. He gave Hunter a bottle of pills and instructed him to give them to Kelvin as soon as he regains consciousness.
"Will he make it?", Hunter asked, his eyes remaining on the sleeping body of his friend.
"I don't know", Tim shook his head, "you need to decide soon, if we're not in the cube before the timer runs out, all will be lost."
"What do you mean? You keep talking about cycles, timers and that cube, but what the fuck does it mean?!", Hunter almost yelled, the frustration growing unbearable.
"You wouldn't believe it even if I tried to explain it to you", his hand grabbed Hunter's shoulder.
"We've been attacked by cannibals, hell I even saw weird creatures trying to eat me alive and", the soldier's eyes angrily glared at Tim, "what the fuck was that blob thing in that bunker?! So please, do try me and tell me what the fuck is going on!"
Tim motioned Hunter to sit down as he retold the story of how his father and him boarded a plane, looking forward to enjoying a nice holiday together, but ended up crashing a horror infested island, not very unlike the one he was on right now. As he spoke, Timmy's face became more and more animated, his gestures more frenzied. His expression darkened as he explained the possible connection between the cruel experiments a power hungry corporation performed on him and what was happening here and now, holding up the papers he found scavenging through the bunkers to find the cube.
"I know that cube causing this," Timmy said, his voice shaking with a strange excitement, waving his hands around as that would prove his point, "it's an artifact. It's creating a portal to another universe, the side effects causing everything and everyone to mutate that isn't in this cube and it will happen every at cycles and the next portal will open in exactly one day."
Hunter listened patiently, his mind was torn between going up in flames at Timmy's absurd story or just ignoring the meaning of it and decide to do whatever it took to not end up as one of these monsters and finally get off this cursed place.
"And what happens if we don't make it there in time? I have to carry Kelvin, he'll not be able to walk all the way down to the beach", Hunter's brows furrowed, afraid to already know the answer.
Timmy's expression darkened, balling his hands into fists, avoiding to even glimpse at the man in front of him.
"I don't know for sure," he whispered barely audible, "but you've seen the slug in the room."
Hunter hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Let's do it. I'll carry Kelvin in my arms if I have to!"
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You paced around in your living room, a bit over two weeks and still no message from Robert. You held your phone in your hands, hesitantly staring at it, not knowing what to write. He could just be not interested in you anymore, that would be the easiest and yet most painful explanation to his silence. But something at the back of your mind refused to believe it. The way he acted around you, the deep discussions and intimate moments the two of you shared. All of it seemed to be genuine and he most definitely didn't strike as the stereotypical army hotshot that ghost someone after a steamy night. Fear gripped your heart, clinging tightly to it as it would try to suffocate you. Something about all this felt seriously wrong but no matter how desperately you tried to come up with a solution to this, you weren't able to figure out how to get a hold of your soldier. As you tried to call the base he was stationed on this morning, a rude voice on the other end of the phone only spat at you, explaining that they wouldn't have the time to waste on heartbroken women calling to ask about a soldier they briefly met. You chose to ignore that answer, not monkeying around with someone who clearly had no intention of helping you.
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Kelvin groaned as his eyes slowly opened, his body feeling as if it had been hit by a truck. He tried to move up, but the intense pain pinned him to straight back to the bed.
"What...happened?" he managed to croak, his lips barely forming the question.
His comrade Hunter, was still sitting by his side, holding a flask to his lips and putting a pill in his mouth.
"Please take this, it'll help you with the pain and to avoid infection," Hunter said in a loud, uncomfortable tone.
He knew Kelvin had trouble hearing which had gotten him in this situation, and he wanted to make sure he could understand him. Kelvin swallowed the pill reluctantly and gulped down a few sips of the water, coughing faintly at the feeling of the rather big dry pill almost getting caught in his throat.
"We're still on the island, Kel," Hunter began slowly, "you ventured out alone and were ambushed by the enemy. You got hit, and I had to carry your almost lifeless body back here."
Kelvin's mind raced with questions, but the pain in his waist made it hard to think. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how if he was to get through this, not noticing how Hunter had been writing down sedulously in the notepad. He placed it in Kelvin's hands, smiling faintly.
I've found a way out! We need to go to the beach as soon as possible! Please recover quickly! I'll get you out of here!
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Part 11 - The Cube
SotF masterlist
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engineerbebe · 1 year ago
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Arrival and the Arrival and start of a new life
You don’t know exactly how you came to the Devildom. All you can remember is talking with your teacher about the next school. At first you talked about normal schools in your country. After the teacher looked at his phone, he began to mention the RAD. The only explanation he gave wasn’t informative at all. You didn’t really want to leave your country or even continent, but your curiosity tortured you to your agreement to enrol in that school.
After saying good-bye to friends and family you sat down on your place in a plane to a country you have never known. Sadly, you fell asleep fast. You don’t know how long you were asleep, but someone put you in a car and drove you somewhere. “I’m not tied up…. ….so, where am I?” You asked yourself. Seeing a driver in the front you asked where you are. “Milady, you are in the magnificent Devildom. Now we are going to the ground of RAD – also known as the Royal Academy of Diavolo.” the driver answered your question. “Wait a minute. Diavolo? As in Diavolo the Italian name for the Devil? Well, figures if we are in Devildom. There is the name in it.” You mumbled to yourself. Curiously you looked outside of the window to see hell. It was nothing as described in the human world. It looked so beautiful.
After more time passed the car stopped in front of a huge building. The driver exited the car and opened the car door for you. “Milady.” “Thank you.”, you smiled while saying so. There were many normal looking beings there. You walked into the building. In the great hall you were standing and admiring the interior. Suddenly you heard a soothing voice coming from the top of the stairs that are in the hall.
“Hello and welcome to the Devildom. I am Diavolo, the future ruler of this kingdom. What is your name?”
You answered his question.
“Quite the nice name you have there if I may say so. How was the trip?”
“It was really nice although I don’t know how I got from the plane to the car. Did someone carry me in the vehicle?” you responded.
“The plane was the actual car. All the people entering it were just an illusion to make it seem normal. So, nobody moved you.” The devil answered your question with a little smile. You don’t know him that long and you already liked him. As a friend, of course.
“My lord, it seems she arrived.” Another voice realised. The voice was deeper and more husky.
“Yes, she did. Lucifer, introduce yourself to her.” As Diavolo commanded another devil spoke to you.
“Hello, I’m Lucifer. While you are in this world you stay with my brothers and me. After the introduction to this school, we go to the House of Lamentation, and I will show you your room. To ease your stay here please take this D.D.D.” He explained to you.
“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OF KEEPING ME HERE, LUCIFER!”, an annoying voice called the demon with the deep voice.
“Mammon, you are the guide for this exchange student at our school. Be nice to them.” The demon dominated the other voice through speaking.
“Who are ya? Huh? Don’t think I’ll be nice to ya.” Mammon tried to frighten you.
“Geez, Mammon. Get a grip. Don’t yell at such a beauty.”, a more feminine than masculine voice called the wither-haired demon out.
“Asmodeus, please keep Mammon in check while he has to care for her.”, Lucifer asked the beautiful demon.
“Tsk, Lucifer. You can’t be more dominating, can you?”, a sassy voice told the black-haired demon off. But with no success.
“Satan, why don’t you introduce yourself to the lady here? Afterall you are the most responsible of you four.”
“Four?”, you asked.
“Mmhpf. I’m Beelzebub. Nice to meet you. Need food. Dou you have any?”, a muscular and tall demon with red hair spoke.
“I have this little snack here. Do you want to try?”, you offered. With sparkly eyes the demon took the snack and ate it.
“It had an interesting taste. Do you have more?”, Beel asked.
“No.”
The blonde-haired demon started to talk to you.
“Hello, I’m Satan, the Avatar of Wrath. As you already found out we are all demons here. The dumb white-haired guy over there is Mammon, the Avatar of Greed. The petite looking guy next to Mammon is Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust and the red head eating is Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony. Lucifer is the Avatar of Pride and Diavolo is the future heir to the throne. We have another brother named Levi. He is the Avatar of Envy. He is currently at home playing some of his games or watching some of his cartoons.”, he nicely explained. You began small talk with the nice demon and found many sharing interests.
After all the documents were finished Lucifer brought you to a car. “Hop in. We are going to the House of Lamentation.”, he told you.
The house wasn’t that far from the school. While Mammon had to take your luggage out of the car and carry it to the hall inside the house Lucifer showed you the house.
“Here is the dining room. We eat breakfast at seven o’clock, lunch at one o’clock in the afternoon and dinner at six o’clock in the evening. Here is the living room. Here we have the kitchen. Although we are one of the most powerful beings in this realm, we cook for our own. There hangs a schedule at the board next to the door to see who must cook. Naturally you were already added to the list of beings cooking. Now to your room. Here is your bedroom.” After he showed you the ground floor, Lucifer takes you to the first floor. “Here resides Mammon, Levi and Satan. There reside Asmodeus and Beelzebub. If you have any questions or troubles, come to my office or my room. Any questions?”, he finished.
“Not really.”
“Good. Now, if you excuse me, I need to continue my work in the office.”, he explained and walked off.
You went to look at your room. Upon further inspection you found out the theme of your room. Seeing the luggage in the corner you are laughing a little. “He does as his brother says.”, you thought. Decided to thank Mammon for his work you look for his room. It took you a while to find it. Standing in front of the door you knocked on the wood. A couple of seconds passed until the demon opened the door.
“What are ya searching for here?”, he tried to sass you.
“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to thank you for carrying my luggage. It wasn’t that light, and I appreciate the action. So, thank you.”, you told him with a little smile at the end.
A little blush appeared on the demon’s cheeks. “It’s not like I did it for ya. Lucy told me to do it. It has nothing to do with you.”, he blurted out with an embarrassed face.
“Still. Thank you.”, you said in a soothing voice and walked off. The demon was in a weird kind of shock after hearing that nice voice of yours.
Before going to the dining room for the dinner you wanted to talk to Leviathan and Satan. The first room you found was Levi’s. Even though you knocked twice nobody opened the door. But you clearly heard noises coming out. You opened the door yourself and found an otaku themed room. In the middle of it sat a demon with blue hair. He was playing something. You didn’t want to interrupt so you walked out. The next room was Satan’s room. You knocked on the door and the blonde demon opened the door after mere seconds.
“Hello. It is a surprise to see you here. What do you want?”, the green-eyed demon asked.
“I wanted to say hello.” You calmly spoke. While looking inside the room you found books and more books. “Holy shit, he has more books than the city library in my hometown.” you mumbled to yourself. To your surprise Satan heard that.
“Really?”, he asked.
“Yes, really. You have way more books than the library there. May I borrow some books to read them?”, you asked him while starring at the books in his room.
“That wouldn’t be a problem at all.”, he responded.
“May I enter your room, Satan?”, you asked him with a nice tone in your voice.
“Yes, you may.”, he answered and went out of your way to enter.
Inside his room was this nice smell only found in old libraries. The smell of old wood, old books and candle wax. You love that smell. Looking around the room you found even more books. “Good thing he has a couch in his room.”, you thought after seeing most of the furniture in his room.
“What in particular do you want to read?”, he asked you.
“What do you recommend?”, you countered his question.
After that question he sat down of his chair besides the table and started to talk about some of his favourite authors. He spoke with sparks in his eyes.
“Adorable.”
This thought went with you without noticing it.
“I’m sorry if I bore you. What kind of genre do you prefer?”, he asked after some time passed.
“Oh no, you don’t bore me at all. In fact, I would like to read all the books you just mentioned.”, you said with a smile.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He took some books out of their places and handed them to you.
“Does it matter to you where I read them?”, you asked.
“Not really. As long as they are the same as I handed them to you. Why?”, Satan questioned you.
“I wanted to read them here, so I could take the next ones when I finished one.”, you responded.
“You can if you want. Actually, I would prefer that. But you only read when I am around. Okay?”, he set the rule.
“Yes, that is okay. Another Question. Do you mind me sipping tea while reading a book?”, you asked.
“No, not at all. I do that myself.”, he said. For him it felt more like a confession that a normal response to your question.
“Awesome. Then I’m going to start read.” You sat down on the couch with a book in your hand. Satan wasn’t sure what to do. Out of that weird mix of feelings in his stomach he did the same as you did. Being focused on the book you didn’t notice Satan’s glances at you. Sometimes he didn’t concentrate on the page he was because he looked at you. After time passed someone knocked on Satan’s door.
“Satan. Food. Ready.”, you heard Beel talking. Panicked you closed the book remembering the page number and looked at the clock.
17:50.
“Dammit. I better go, Satan. Food is ready.”, you told the blondie. Before he could say something, you were gone. You left the door open and Beel looked inside.
“You okay?”, Beel asked Satan.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks for asking.”, he responded.
Being seated at the end of the table you looked forward to meeting all the brother. It took a while for everyone to arrive. Next to you sat Beelzebub and opposite of you Asmodeus. On the very first meal in Devildom Lucifer introduced you to his brothers. Seeing Satan, you smiled at him. Flustered as he was, he didn’t know what to do. He responded with a light smile and to your surprise he looked stunning with just a slight smile. You thought of nothing of his and your reaction to each other. But he did. As well as Asmodeus. Asmo isn’t the avatar of lust for nothing. He decided to observe the two of you from today on.
The meal was finished, and you went back to Satan’s room to continue reading.
There you finished the book and returned to your room after saying goodbye.
I'm always open for some feedback, be it grammar, the story or something else. Should something be unclear tell me and i try to solve it.
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madamebristow · 1 year ago
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Flight (Part 4)
It's time! Grab your tissues because there's some heavy angst coming up. :)
You can find this on A03 at:
Warnings:
Heavy Angst
Bowuigi (Don't read this at all if you don't like this ship.)
Mention of Blood and Death
Spoilers for Grey's Anatomy S8 Finale
Enjoy!
In the woods, Daisy is getting ready to splint Toad's leg. "I'm gonna try and splint this." "No, I can do it.." Toad assured her. "Uh, Blue needs - what was that thing called... oh yeah! C-spine stabilization!" "Uh, who's Blue?" Daisy says while looking for supplies to do the stabilization. "The... The pilot," Toad told the princess. "How are you doing there, Blue? "Uh, fine." Blue Shell replied. "I give us four hours tops before they find us. There's a transmitter in the plane that lets out a squawk that should lead 'em right to us."
Daisy nodded to Blue Shell before going back to finding supplies. "Did you find Princess Peach?" Toad asked Daisy. "Uh, not yet," Daisy replied. "Uh, 'Blue', uh, do you, uh, have any tape?" "Uh, yeah. In the bulkhead." Blue Shell answered. "In the cabinet to your left. There's a flare gun in there, too. You hear a chopper, you fire it straight up." "Yes, thank you." "And, Luigi?" Toad says with a little hope in his voice. "Did you find Luigi?" "Not good." Daisy sighed. "Is there a first aid kit?" "A … yeah, a big one," Blue Shell tells the princess.
"In the cabinet on your right, behind the cockpit." Daisy looks throughout the cockpit to see there is no cabinet. The princess groans and tears start to fill her eyes. "There's no cabinet there!" Toad looked up to the sky and a small tear fell from his eye. "Just.-" Toad winces before continuing. "Just tell Lu to hang on for another four hours." Daisy rolled her eyes at that statement. Only if the little guy only knew how bad Luigi's future is actually looking....
"Great." Daisy sighed. She starts to leave with the water in her uninjured arm. But, Blue Shell stops her. "Hey, hey, wait. Don't leave! I-I can't feel my legs. That's because I'm trapped, right? I mean, I'm gonna be okay, right? I'm not paralyzed. I'm gonna walk again. I'm gonna be okay, right?" The princess then grabs a pen and sticks it in his leg but he doesn't feel it. "I'm sorry." She says, blankly.
At that moment, Mario comes rushing over. "Daisy, I can't find Peach. I looked everywhere. I can't find her." "Maybe she's fine, Mar," Daisy tells him. "Maybe she went for help." "Maybe, but I gotta … I gotta keep looking!" Mario says as tears fill his eyes. "Mario," Daisy begins to say. "I.. I have to keep looking, she has to be out there..." "Mario!" Daisy snaps at the red-hatted plumber. Her yelling snapped him out of his spiral. "Mario, you should-" Daisy puts her hand on Mario's shoulder. "You should come help, Lu.."
+++++++
Meanwhile, at the back of the plane, Bowser's laying next to Luigi. "You're doing great, Luigi." Bowser praises the green-hatted plumber. Luigi looks up at the king with tears in his beautiful blue eyes. "Bowser...." "Hey, Princess is coming back any second. She's gonna be back, and we're gonna get you stabilized, and you're gonna be fine, okay?" "Bowser, I..." Luigi's voice is getting weaker by the second. "I'm dying." "What?" Bowser says confused. "No, you're not. I told you, stop the dying crap." Luigi rolls his eyes. "I am. Please … tell … Tell Mario that I love him, so much.. and that he was a great, amazing brother. Mm... Please t-tell my mom and dad..." Bowser starts to lose his patience with Luigi. "You're not dying. You're gonna be fine." "Hold my hand." Luigi tells him in a soft, weak voice.
"I'm not holding your hand because you're not dying. You don't die today." Bowser gets up, and once again tries to lift the piece of the plane that's crushing him, without success. His eyes welling with tears, He lies down again and takes his hand. "I love you." Luigi shakes his head in disbelief. "You don't have to say it because I said it." "I do." Bowser reassures Luigi. "I love you. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you."
Luigi's eyes light up a little. "You... You do?" "Yeah. Which is why you have to stay alive. We … we … we're gonna get married in a big royal wedding, no one being sacrificed or anything. And you're gonna make an amazing king and we're gonna live out our days with Junior and all of the koopalings." "All of them?" "Yeah. We're gonna be happy, Luie … You and me. We're gonna have the best life, Luigi, you and me. We're gonna be so happy. So you can't die, okay? You can't die, because we're supposed to end up together. We're meant to be." Luigi smiles at Bowser. "Meant to be..." That's the last thing Luigi says before all emotion leaves his blue eyes and his chest stops rising and falling. He's gone.
Then, Bowser breaks. After everything with Peach and losing Kamek, this was his breaking point. The King of the Koopas breaks down into sobs while still holding Luigi's hand. "I love you, I love you," He repeats to an unresponsive Luigi.
A few minutes later, Mario and Daisy arrive to see Bowser sobbing over Luigi. "No.." Daisy's voice is above a whisper. Tears started falling from her eyes. "He's, he's gone."
And that's when Mario's world came falling down.
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There you have it! Part 4 is done! It got really heavy at the end, didn't it? This will be posted on AO3 within the hour. Part 5 should be up tomorrow or so. I hope you enjoyed. Sorry if you cried. :/
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srorgana1 · 1 year ago
Text
Invocation
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Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey
Warnings: Dark Themes (apporaching Dead Dove, you have been warned), Supernatural/Paranormal, Blood, Violence, Gore, Death, NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Psychological and Physical Torture, Kidnapping, Hatred towards organized religion, Pain, Major/Minor character death/injury, Demonic Possession
Chapter Three
Kylo shuts his book and wills it away as he can feel the plane start to descend. He shifts, careful not to wake the sleeping woman next to him. Like all charter flights for the elite, they come with a playmate. A carefully picked companion to help keep them occupied and stress free during long travel.
He licks his lips, still able to taste her slightly salty blood on his tongue. Half Selkie, he surmises as heads to the small bathroom to clean up and dress. He smirks as he touches his lip, his guess confirmed by the dried greenish blood on his fingertips. He will have to tip her extra for letting him bite. While it was common in vampires to bite during sex, other creatures not so. So it was customary to tip them for the extra service.
He dresses quickly, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of his perfectly tailored black wool suit coat. He wills his phone to his pocket as he heads to the front. He deposits himself in one of the large bucket seats and looks out the window. The tell tale skyline of London meets him, beautifully bathed in gold from the waning sun.
He sighs. He hasn’t been to his native soil in a hundred years. Not since The Council completed the alliances. Him and the others felt they made the situation more volatile so they decided to disperse in the name of peace. It was better that way so they could start anew.
A voice comes over the cabin’s speaker system. “Please buckle in Mr. Ren, we are starting our descent. We hope you had a nice flight. We should be arriving in ten minutes.” Good he thinks as he fastens his seatbelt. He grabs his phone and sends a quick text to Vicrul.
He runs a hand through his newly cut hair, pushing it away from his eyes. While it was still rakishly long, it made him able to blend in the mortals. Hide in plain sight just as so many do. According to Vicrul, many in the community keep mundane lives and just magick and glamour to keep them and their families safe.
The half Selkie enters from the back, fixing her blouse. She smiles as she sees him looking out the window. “Welcome to London Mr. Ren, we hope you enjoy your stay.” He nods as he wills a wad of cash into his hand. As the plane lands, he hands her the cash with a silent nod. She blushes and pockets the money in her skirt pocket. “Always here to be of service Mr. Ren.”
He fights rolling his eyes at her as the door opens. He grabs his carry on, moving quickly down the waiting stairs. He smiles as he sees his friend lounging as his luggage is being loaded into a luxury town car. “Long time no see my friend” Vicrul yells, pushing himself off the car, arms wide open in greeting.
“Likewise brother” Kylo says, embracing him. As soon as they touch, their magick acknowledges the other. They wait until it passes, slapping each others backs aggressively. Kylo knows his eyes are red just as Vicrul’s eyes will be gold. He shuts his eyes, willing it away.
“Welcome Kylo, come we have much to discuss. I have found out a lot and The Council wants to speak with you. I must catch you up” Vicrul says, opening the car door for him. His brow crinkles as he nods and slides his big body into the spacious interior of the car.
Vicrul settles himself and grabs a bottle of vintage Johnnie Walker Blue from the ice. Kylo smirks as he pours them both a glass. “Not much has changed then?” he says, taking the glass before him. He watches Vicrul’s face pucker as he takes a sip. “Yes and No” he says “If you mean I am still a surly Werewolf who loves American spirits then yes.” He smirks as he tips his glass in Kylo’s direction.
Kylo chuckles as he downs his glass, enjoying the burn on his tongue. “So you're saying I am still a… what did you call me last time…oh yeah a epic asshole of a blood sucker” he says, pouring each of them another. It was Vicrul’s turn to chuckle, a wide grin breaking across his face. “If the shoe fits” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
He watches the grin fade as Vicrul’s face becomes stony again. “But a lot has changed, as you will see” he says ominously “you were smart to remove yourself.” Kylo hunches over, interested in what his friend had to say.
“The Council wants to hide it in order to not cause mass hysteria, but there is evidence that Hunters are back. We don’t know how or why yet but we know that some in the community have gone missing. As per the reports and rumors coming out of AXS, those missing aren’t just random transients. They are people with families and mortgages” he says, taking a long sip.
“Isn’t that what The Council was set up for? To protect the Supernaturals? Clearly they wouldn’t let a Hunter organization settle and grow so close to a Supernatural community” Kylo says, swirling his glass. “Yes but they have become lax and too trusting. Human Politics now acknowledge the Supernatural community and promote intermingling unlike before. You know how backwards some groups are and are averse to change. I feel the disappearances are because of this” he says bitterly.
Kylo can feel Vicrul’s energy spiking. There’s more to the story for a seasoned warrior like him to be this upset. “Vicrul, I don’t mean to be indelicate but why are you really here and so interested in this. I mean, the last time I saw you, you and Jessica were building a cabin in Maine and planning to have pups” Kylo says empathetically.
He watches his friend’s jaw muscle twitch. “Jessica and I have been involved for awhile in Supernatural/Human relations in America. I am proud of the work we’ve done and how accepting the public has been. But why I am here Kylo and why I contacted you is because my son has disappeared” he says, his finger tracing the rim of his glass.
“Now before you say anything, I know something is amiss” he says. “His mother awoke one night, screaming his name and kept repeating no and let him go” he says “she even transitioned to her Undead state she was so upset.” Kylo shook his head, understanding the bond between Witches and their children well. They are fiercely protective mothers.
“We tried to call and text him the day after but no response. We called his flat mates and they he never came home one night and have not seen him since. So we came over to look for him. Jessica reached out to her old contacts but it was a dead-end. Even the psychics cannot find him. I know my son Kylo and he wouldn’t just leave without telling us” Vicrul says, becoming more and more emotional.
“The Council doesn’t believe us that he was taken. They don’t want to believe there is something threatening the community again. But I can feel it, I know it” he says brokenly as he grabs at his short dark hair. Kylo watches as Vicrul’s hands and nails elongate and his forearms’ become hairier.
He leans over and places a hand on Vicrul’s shoulder. He shuts his eyes, allowing a wave of calm to pass to him. He hears Vicrul’s ragged breath hitch at the feeling of his magick. “It’s okay Vic I believe you. I will help you however you need” he says, sending another calming pulse. He watches Vicrul nod as he removes his hand, feeling it tingle slightly. “Thank you. You don’t know much that means to us” he huffs as he straightens up in his seat, fixing his suit and tie. Kylo smiles softly, finishing his drink. “So what’s the plan?”
“We have a meeting with The Council and then I was thinking we could go to AXS to see if we can get some information” he says as the car parks in front of a large modern looking glass building. “What is this AXS? Is it like the old network?” Kylo asks as they exit the car and enter the building. “Oh no Kylo, it’s much much more.”
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cyarsk5230 · 2 years ago
Text
sinsandsuccubusFollow
Jul 27, 2022
Coming Home to You - Jack Harlow
Context: He's finally home.
Genre: smut, fluff
Word Count: 2k
Pairings: Jack Harlow x Fem!Reader
Warning: 18+, sexual activity
A/N: This is Part 2 to Piece of You. Please be sure to read that before reading this, as it’ll make more sense.
I’d also like to say thank you so much for 500+ followers. Over the short amount of time I’ve been here, I’ve met so many lovely people and developed friendships. I really appreciate you all and all that this community has offered me.
-
Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not 18+. Reader's discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.
-
Masterlist ☽☾
                                          ☽ ☾
1 Month before Jack’s Departure for Tour
“Dude, you have to hold still.”
“I can’t, this shit is cold.”
“If you keep moving, you’re gonna fuck it up.” Urban grunted out, holding the container that surrounded Jack’s dick.
The shit he did for love.
He was going on tour this upcoming month and he wanted to leave a piece of him behind for you to have.
He was excited about making the mold for you to use while he was away, however, he did not anticipate how much trouble it would be to make the mold. He had already fucked up twice in the process and had to express ship two more molds, an extra just in case.
Needless to say, Urban decided to help his best friend with the process of crafting the piece of art. However, he did not anticipate how squeamish Jack would be to the contents of the mold.
“Okay okay! Let's throw this one out because this is hardening.” Urban threw away the container, Jack’s dick swinging in the open.
“Woah, what the fuck is going on here?” Druski spoke, walking to the living room to which the best friends were standing.
“I’m tryna get a mold of Jack’s dick for-“
“For yourself? Damn, I didn’t know you were into that.”
“This is for Y/N Druski. Not for me.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, I’m tryna get this fuckin mold and Jack won’t hold still.”
“BECAUSE ITS FUCKING COLD MAN.”
“NO CAUSE YOU’RE BEING A LITTLE BITCH.” At Urban’s comment, Druski walked up to the old tub, feeling his hand on the container.
“That’s not that bad…”
“Shut up Druski.” Jack announced, pinching his fingers together on the bridge of his nose. “I can’t even get hard.”
“How about I do a reenactment of you and Y/N?” Urban spoke as braced himself.
“This is based on true events. Ahem. Oh, Jack, you feel so good inside me. Fuck Jack, baby, just like that. Yeah, you like the way I spell my name on your dick? Mhmm, of course, you do.”
“OHKAY!” Jack yelled, looking at Urban with wide eyes. However, it was Druski’s comment that sent him to the moon.
“Dude, you’re fuckin hard.”
Jack looked down at himself, his cock completely erect and red.
“Well, I’ll be damn.” Urban spoke, placing his hand on his hip.
“Let’s just get this over with, so I can take care of this.” Jack pointed to himself as Urban grabbed the container, placing it onto Jack’s dick to mold.
This time, they didn’t mess up.
                                          ☽ ☾
The plane ride home was smooth, Jack staring out the window from his first-class seat. He had contemplated going to the bathroom multiple times, the conversation he had with you before he took off flashing back in his mind.
“Fuck Jack, m’gonna cum again.” You spoke, the gushing of your cunt on speaker over the phone.
“Keep going ma, I need you to cum again. I wanna hear you cum all over my dick. Cum for me.” You came with a loud grunt, Jack cooing you on as you came. You had already cum twice with the dildo, Jack refraining himself as best as he could.
He had been holding back from touching himself for the past week, explaining to you that he wanted to give you the most “breedable load” he could muster.
You thought that was hot. So fucking hot.
His voice brought you back from thought with the next statement he made.
“I want you to keep that dildo inside of you until I’m home. I want you to edge yourself, over and over again until I step foot in the house. And I swear to God, if you’ve cum, you’re not gonna cum on my cock when I get home, I’ll only use you for my pleasure. Understand?” Jack spoke as you swallowed, nodding your head.
“Good. I’ll be home in 6 hours baby.”
Now that he sat on the plane, with only forty-five minutes before touch down, he was debating if he should break his own promise to himself.
That plane bathroom looked real promising this time around.
However, it was Urban that was able to pull him out of his own banter.
“Just wait on it dude. It’ll be a hundred times better.”
“Easy for you to say, you had bitches while we were over there.”
“Yeah, well, now I get to come back to my main one. And boy, I’ve been waiting on this one. Shit got me hard just thinking about her.” They both fist bumped each other as they thought about all the shit they’d do to their girls when they got home. Jack checked his watch once more.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Please prepare for landing."
                                          ☽ ☾
Jack forgot his bags in his Jeep as he made it towards your shared home, prying open the door with his keys. He raced up the steps, taking two at a time as he came to your shaded bedroom. Walking in slowly, he caught his announcement on his tongue as he looked at your sleeping form, the dildo buried deep inside of you.
He could say he was proud for the fact that you held up on your end, except, you didn’t fully.
He rolled you over slowly, watching the glistening of your skin in the moonlight.
Fuck, he was happy to be home.
But he was more happy to have his pussy back.
With clean and ample fingers, he began to rub your clit, taking the dildo and thrusting it in and out of you slowly. You let out a deep moan in your sleep, body jolting as arousal flooded your senses once more. You moaned out his name in your sleep, Jack’s dick straining in his pants.
Swiftly and fast, he removed all of his clothing, hovering over you in the bed. He placed your legs over his thighs, removing the dildo before replacing it with own dick, moaning at the feeling.
“Fuck ma.”
“Jack?” You spoke, your eyes fluttering open as Jack began to thrust into you.
“I thought I told you to edge yourself.”
“I did baby, I-“
“Then why we’re you asleep with the fucking dildo in your pussy?”
“I’m sorry Jack, I’m-“ He slapped your breast, forcing a whimper to leave your lips at the pleasurable pain.
“What’s my name?”
“Daddy…”
“Good girl.”
He began to pick up his pace again, you bracing your hands on the headboard behind you as his thrusts got rougher. He placed one leg on his shoulder, hitting a certain angle that made you scream.
“You know, I should edge you myself,” He grunted. “But this pussy feels too fucking good. So, instead, I’m gonna take my time with you.” He spoke, removing himself from you. You whined at the emptiness, to which Jack slapped your clit in response, you jolting from the pleasure.
“Shut the fuck up, I don’t wanna hear shit from you.” He dragged you over to the end of the bed and put you over his lap, ass out in the air.
Well, you knew where this was going.
“Count.” He demanded and began laying heavy smacks on your ass. By the time you’d reach fifth-teen, your ass was bright red, and you were certain Jack’s handprint would remain permanently there.
He shoved you onto the floor, standing up as you pushed yourself to your knees. He stood in front of you, legs spread as he tapped his dick on your face.
“Open your mouth and suck me off.” He commanded, to which you took his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.
“Don’t fucking tease me.” He grabbed your head and began fucking your throat, you bracing yourself by placing your hands on his thighs, to which he immediately demanded away.
“Put your hands behind your back and take it. I know you can. Be a good little slut and take this dick." And you took every inch of him as he fucked your throat raw, your voice becoming hoarse from the moans and grunts you were letting out. After sometime he withdrew himself from you, spitting on your tongue, to which you quickly swallowed. Tears stained your face as you looked at him through your lashes, licking your lips. He grabbed you by your throat, pulling you up into a searing kiss.
“Get on the bed princess. Face down, ass up.” You did as you were told, following perfect orders as you got yourself ready for him, shaking your ass a little/
“Fuck baby, I missed my pussy so much.” He tapped his tip on your clit, your body jerking in response.
“We missed you too daddy.” You spoke, which pulled a moan out of Jack, him slipping inside of you once more. You both let out sinful moans, your pussy, and his dick, now more sensitive than ever. He began to thrust into you firmly, pulling all the way out to the tip and thrusting all the way in completely.
“Fuck ma, you feel so fuckin good.” All you could do was moan, your mind slipping into a subspace as Jack fucked the life out of you. His pace began to pick up, him lifting his leg and planting it on the bed for a better angle. He smacked your ass once more, the handprints that were formed once before growing red once again.
“Daddy! Oh fuck, daddy.”
“Mhmm, you like daddy’s dick, don’t ya baby? You’re taking me so well ma, fuck. Ima give you the biggest load you’ve ever witnessed, ya hear? I’m gonna get your ass fucking pregnant, you’re gonna be swollen and round carrying my children. Do you want that? Hmm, pretty girl, do you want that?” You moaned at Jack’s voice, him landing another hand print on your ass from the lack of response.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes, daddy! Fuck! I want your cum so bad! I wanna carry your babies, fuck daddy please!” You whined out, your body shuddering in pleasure. Jack felt so good, and he could feel you approaching your climax with how tight you were clenching.
He quickly, and swiftly, flipped the two of you over, obtaining the missionary position.
He placed his hand around your throat and squeezed as he pistoned into you, your body shaking with pleasure.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.”
“Fuck, me too baby girl. Let's come together. On three.” You nodded your head, control of your body slipping from you.
“3”
“2”
“1”
“Cum.”
You both came with a loud shout, Jack unloading the biggest load into your warm pussy, your walls spazzing against him as you squirted, body convulsing.
That was before the world went black.
                                          ☽ ☾
You woke up to the sound of the television and breathing, your eyes fluttering open to find Jack’s baby blue eyes staring back at you.
“Hi.”
“Hello, mamas. How are you feeling?”
“Okay, tired, a little sore.” You looked down at your body, a fresh t-shirt (Jack’s) on.
“I changed our linen and cleaned you up a little. I didn’t put any panties on you just in case you were sore. Oh! And there’s a water bottle with some aspirin on the table on your side. I also ordered us pizza and some other stuff.” He spoke, smiling down at you as he kissed your forehead.
You dragged him down weakly with your hand, pulling him into a deep kiss.
An “I love you”, “I missed you” kiss.
“I love you Jack.”
“I love you too baby.”
-
Tags ♡︎
@heavyhitterheaux
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gutsheapofrawiron · 1 year ago
Text
[GRIFFGUTS FANFIC] Only When The Crow Cried Did I See Why: Chapter 4
Kasian, you are a victim of circumstance. Life has never held you right.
Summary:
a lotta plot starts happening from this chapter on Griffith and Guts homosexually groom horses together and Mangled!Griffith is dropped back into the physical plane, leaving the torture labyrinth behind him indefinitely
Read on AO3 or continue reading below
Guts seemed to have a mutual understanding with the horse, of sorts. Griffith observed their interactions with poorly concealed fascination in between brush strokes over his own steed’s flanks.
“She really likes you, huh,” he noted as Inge gently nosed her rider before leaning against his back as Guts brushed her neck, glossy with a healthy coat. Guts looked up, a somewhat distant look in his eyes as he glanced at him.
“What?” he asked, and Griffith realised he hadn’t specified, confusing the man’s absent mind.
“Inge,” he said, nodding to the lady with soulful brown eyes, who was drooling a little in relaxation.
“Oh,” Guts looked over his shoulder to where her head was. A fond smile grew on his face, and Griffith wished he wasn’t facing his back at this moment, missing out on the complete view. An indignant whinny from his other side made him realise he stilled in his own grooming duties.
“Sigilina doesn’t like slackers,” Guts said, grinning.
“Oh, Sigi, please forgive me, won’t you?” Griffith pleaded in a rounded voice, stroking her nose through the worst of her incredulous huffs. The chuckling coming from his right would have properly ticked him off if it wasn’t Guts who was having fun at his expense. Guts was an exception, unsurprisingly.
Sigilina was satisfied after a while, no longer feeling double-crossed, and he moved on to untangling and braiding her mane.
“We’ll be proceeding with the siege as it is planned in a month,” Griffith said, looking at Guts’ back. “Will they be ready?”
Guts tilted his head in thought. “If we keep up the tempo of today’s training, yes.”
“They seemed miserable, though. You’ll be hated,” Griffith remarked, allowing the amusement to shine through his words. Guts let out a single, sharp laugh. “They’ll be more miserable if they’re dead. ‘Sides, I don’t give a shit about what they think of me, they’ll need all the training they can get if they want to get out with all their limbs.”
Griffith smiled. “That bad?”
Guts turned his head and looked at him with unflinching eye contact, something so rare Griffith froze in place like prey. “I would have beat their arses so bad as a brat they could’ve heard them yell in pain all the way over in the Kushan Empire,” he said in a low but even voice.
Griffith held his gaze for an indeterminable amount of time, or rather, an age, or more likely not even half a minute, before casting his gaze back over to Sigilina’s hair in his hands, letting out a strangled, mildly hysterical laugh.
“Yes, well, you were a violent kid. That’s no news,” he replied, his smile now tight on his face, like an ill-fitting porcelain mask.
“Like you’re any better. Fancy words don’t hide the fact that you’re a prick, Griff’,” Guts scoffed as he bent down to scrape the muck out of Inge’s hooves. Griffith suddenly felt his interest in Sigilina’s mane wane aggressively, his eyes locked on something more sodomitical.
“Hell, you were probably even worse as a child,” Guts continued, holding Inge’s hoof. Griffith was absently braiding the last hairs of the mane. Guts took the silence as affirmation and looked up.
“No way. Really?” he laughed, Griffith just about quick enough in redirecting his gaze from stern to bow for it to be passably innocuous.
“Your ma and pa must’ve had a hell of a time raisin’ you, huh?” Guts asked, moving to the other side of Inge, out of view. Griffith tried to not feel defeated as he went on to braid Sigilina’s tail.
“My mother loved me just fine,” Griffith retorted, pulling a bitter face. A distant part of his brain noted that Guts was clearly feeling comfortable with talking to him again. Sure enough, it seemed the apology of the previous night did the trick.
“Your mum,” Guts spoke after a moment. Griffith mentally prepared for a meaningful question regarding his family situation. “She hot?”
Griffith paused in the middle of an intricate five-strand braid. “What?”
Guts appeared from behind Inge, apparently done with cleaning out her hooves. “Was she a looker?” he asked, eyebrow quirked. Griffith wondered if he’d drank. He continued braiding after a deep sigh. “What does that matter? She’s dead now, so you can’t pull anything, anyway,” he replied.
“Now, look here,” Guts began, tone heavy. “I wasn’t talking about that. Just wondering where you got your genes from, that’s all.”
Griffith suddenly regretted not looking at Guts as he said this, and he felt his face flush to the rhythm of receding footsteps as Guts moved to the other side of the ‘stable’ to put his tools away.
Griffith touched his cheek with the back of his hand before tying off the neatly braided tail, letting it fall to its original position before masking his embarrassment with a cough.
“I…look like my mother, yes. I never knew my father, though, but there’s no shred of doubt my mother birthed me.”
That sounded stupid. Griffith wondered how there could be any confusion as to whose cunt one crawled out of, and hoped desperately Guts wouldn’t pick up on the idiocy of his statement.
Guts made a noise of comprehension. They were standing next to each other now, admiring their work on the ladies in front of them.
“What about you?” Griffith asked after a quiet moment. Guts glanced at him before looking away, jaw stiffening.
“No idea,” Guts said, going silent. Sigilina once again required Griffith’s attention and pushed her nose into his hands while Inge, on the other hand, started pawing the ground in unease, ears and eyes moving anxiously as she observed Guts. Griffith caressed Sigilina’s forehead as he looked at Inge, deciding to not push the matter. He gave Sigilina one last pat before putting his own brushes away too, having already cleaned out her hooves earlier.
He was about to leave the stables to brief Casca about the discussed plans for the siege when Guts spoke.
“I dream of my father.”
Griffith halted. From the corner of his eye he saw Guts clench his fists, knuckles white in their held tension.
“When,” he started, swallowing. “When I hit you, last night. I was dreaming of him, too.”
Griffith relaxed now that he knew what the other meant, turning back to face him as he took slow, measured steps in his direction, leaving a metre between them. “Well,” Guts let out a sharp huff, grimacing. “I say ‘father’, but all that bastard did was pick me up from the mud and shove a sword into my hands as soon as I could wipe my own shit.”
Griffith wanted to reach out and touch him, his hand, his arm, his shoulder, perhaps, anything, to keep him tethered, but cowardice triumphed, and he kept his hands to himself.
“Hm,” he thought about the newly-acquired information. It made a whole lot of sense. “So he’s the reason you’re a mercenary?” he asked, more to keep Guts going with confiding in him than to get an actual answer. Guts nodded.
“He, uh,” Guts glanced up at Griffith before moving to Inge, taking her head in his hands and stroking her, supposedly to calm her as much as giving himself something to do. “He didn’t like me. Said I was the reason she died, or something.”
“‘She’?” Griffith studied his face as he went back to Sigilina to ensure she felt included, and to get a better vantage point in terms of view.
“A woman named Shisu,” Guts replied, his voice a hint broken, though an untrained ear would not be able to catch it. “I asked around, y’know. They said she was the one who took me in, but then the Plague got her.”
He paused, breathing deep. Griffith averted his eyes.
“If that’s what killed her, you’re not the one at fault, Guts.”
Guts shook his head. His breath was wobbly.
“I don’t even remember her face,” Guts looked up, meeting Griffith’s eyes at last. He couldn’t stop the air from getting caught in his throat as he realised Guts’ eyes were wet.
“Griffith, I don’t even know her face,” he said, and it came out a plea. Something possessive curled in Griffith’s gut at the display of grief, and he left his duty of petting Sigilina in favour of finally, finally, touching Guts.
Something to be said about seeing a big guy cry, he thought as he took the other’s hand in his own, using his other to rub his back in comforting shapes. His mind leaped in joy at this incredible opportunity, but he pushed it down to focus on the matter at hand: Guts crying his eyes out over his dead adoptive(?) mother. Inge was determined to do her part, nosing Guts by way of petting him back, while Sigilina only huffed as she took in the sight with green eyes. Guts was a silent sobber, Griffith noted, as the man cried into his shoulder. Griffith’s hair would be ruined after this, yet he surprised himself with how little he cared. “It’s alright, it’s okay,” he hushed. It was a quick spell, broken by the sound of a group of band members laughing and chatting as they approached the stables, and Griffith felt Guts stiffen. He grudgingly let go, straightening his hair out and fixing both their clothes. Guts wiped his face, and Griffith supposed the blooming redness was more because of embarrassment rather than anything else.
Ill at ease, they waited until the voices passed, the sounds melting away and leaving them an awkward silence.
“S’rry,” Guts sniffed, looking longingly towards the exit. Griffith smiled thinly. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “It must’ve been hard.”
Guts nodded once, jerkily, his gaze searching for something to lock onto with the nervosity of an anxious dog.
“Still, doesn’t mean I can just go an’ whine about it.” to you, though the last part remained unspoken.
“Of course you can,” Griffith disagreed. “I said you belong to me, didn’t I? That includes your feelings, your dreams, and your past, as well,” he said simply.
Guts’ mouth pulled taut at one side in what looked suspiciously like a grimace. “You…,” he started, but seemed unable to figure out what he wanted to say, falling silent again as he frowned.
“Yes?” Griffith asked, watching his hands clench and unclench, and the swell of his chest expand and contract.
“...No, never mind,” Guts gave up, physically shaking his head, turning away as he moved towards the exit. “You should probably go and inform Casca about the schedule. I’ll check our weapon supplies, see if it’ll get us through the mission alive,” he said, waving away the last remnants of their previous conversation topic as he left the stables. Griffith thought that to be the end of it, but as Guts was already one step outside he paused, glancing back.
“Thanks, again,” he said with a laugh-like huff.
Then he was gone, not sparing Griffith the time to respond.
Sigilina snorted, and Griffith remembered to close his mouth as he felt how hot it had suddenly become inside the stables, now that he was the only human present. The horses looked at him in silent accusation, and he knew he’d overstayed his welcome, leaving the stables and his blissful experiences of just moments ago behind him in favour of his remaining duties of the day.
When he opened his eyes, it felt dreadfully similar to before, his body still very much mortal and mangled. The tip-off that he was no longer in the dragon's damp cave came in the form of brutally bright light assaulting his eyes as soon as he awoke, and the crisp air of healthy nature streaming into his lungs. The immediate flow of quality oxygen overwhelmed, and he gasped as he grovelled on the ground, grasping at soft, dewy grass as he did so. It took about twenty or so breaths before Griffith felt he had reconnected to his body a decent amount. He turned his head, neck feeling jointed like a doll's, and took in the surroundings. Had he not once gained immortality and carved a place for himself in the astral plane as a god-like figure, he would not have considered it possible, but the place was positively ephemeral, glowing in its natural wealth. Curling trees, silver-barked, scattered over hills of fresh green grass, seemed to observe him with invisible faces, just like the countless creatures he took gradual note of, one by one, in the thicket and behind the trunks. Centaurs and fairies, Griffith named every kind he saw in his mind, trying to gather his wits. Some kind of nymphs, and spellbound birds?
He stood up, limb by limb, like a rose unfurling its petals, and felt the open space free him from his mind for a happy moment, closing his eyes as his chest expanded with a fill of good air.
"Ah!"
The tranquillity of the moment was broken. A boy stood a stone's throw away from him with legs in frog-stance, sticks and leaves sticking out of his hair and his face set into an impressive mix of incredulity, awe, and surprise as he pointed an accusing finger at Griffith. "You!"
Griffith turned the rest of his body towards him. The boy's gaze flicked hysterically up and down his body, and he was physically shaking with some repressed emotion Griffith could not quite identify. "You're naked!"
The sounds of leaves rustling as they were hastily pushed aside and juvenile voices coming closer made both of them divert their attention to the bushes behind the child. Out came stumbling and tripping a handful of young girls, dressed uniformly in dark robes and hats that were holding onto their heads for dear life, barely surviving the battle through the twigs and shrubbery.
"Isidro! Why did you-"
One of the girls tried to launch into a lecturing of the boy, but stopped when her eyes followed the direction of the boy's arm. The other girls got up from the ground, equally dishevelled and covered in leaves, before matching the first girl’s expression, mouths agape.
"He's human and he's naked!" the boy, Isidro, exclaimed as he pointed at Griffith again, looking indignantly at the girls.
Ah. Indignance. That was it.
Satisfied he found the answer, Griffith relaxed his shoulders, not considering these children to be even a little bit of a threat, before recognising the shape of the girls’ hats and realising they were all carrying ornately carved and decorated sticks, in layman’s terms also known as wands. If he were in a less sorry state he would probably never admit to himself that this was the moment he started searching for an emergency exit, his eyes desperately scanning the surroundings, ignoring the fact that most of the girls were bright red and covering their eyes. Most.
"Invader!" one of the –red-cheeked but slightly less embarrassed– girls yelled out, pointing defensively at him with her wand and taking on a fighting stance. "Huh?!" Isidro exclaimed, looking between her and Griffith. The other girls followed her example and also readied their wands for battle.
"Wait, guys! He's clearly injured!" a girl with a slightly differently coloured uniform said in alarm.
"Like that matters, Schierke,” another rolled her eyes.
"Hey! She's got a point, y'know? I mean, just look at him," came from a little-voiced elf flitting around the concerned girl's head as she threw her petite arm in his direction for emphasis. Griffith saw a perfect way out in between two trees, a narrow pig trail, relatively bush-free. He looked at the swarm of witches to see if they noticed.
"I am looking," Isidro replied sorrowfully. "That's the problem."
"I bet he got injured when he was busy invading our island," yet another witch commented, earning various noises of agreement from the others. Griffith shuffled carefully towards his intended exit as the girls were too busy arguing amongst each other.
“Idiots! He’s escaping!” one of them shouted, and Griffith immediately sped up his hobbling run to freedom. The sound of multiple pairs of feet thumping behind him as they quickly got closer did wonders in unnerving him, and he knew his attempt to flee was a fool’s errand.
Suddenly he was grabbed by the waist and caught in the wind as he was hoisted several metres up in the air at once, distance between him and the children quickly increasing.
"Sheesh!" a female voice came from above him. "You sure managed to rile them up, buddy," she said, and Griffith turned his head as much as possible, ignoring his protesting neck muscles to look up at the dark-haired woman who grinned down at him. "I doubt this is gonna do your wounds any good, but hold on tight, 'kay? We'll be down again in no time," she assured him, turning her attention back to her broom-flying. Because they were, in fact, on a broom, Griffith realised hazily. He didn’t know why she’d told him to ‘hold on tight’ though, as there was nowhere for him to grasp onto. All his limbs were merely hanging quite uselessly in the open air, the only safeguard preventing him from dropping to his rather gnarly demise being the witch’s arm. He felt the familiar fatigue take hold of him again and decided not to worry about it, instead opting to take in the view. The trees seemed to stretch on forever underneath them, the crowns all sorts of shades of colours, some feasible and some less so. On the further side of the island he could make out the shy silhouettes of sharp-fingered mountains, reminding him rather rudely of his hiking trip with the black-haired child not very long ago, and he averted his eyes, attention being drawn by the lively blue of the sea, sunlight skipping on the wave crests. Even from this height he was able to discern the half-human figures jumping and playing in the waters surrounding the island.
“So, what brings you here, if I may ask?” the woman enquired, though Griffith suspected the polite speech probably did not come naturally to her, her tone only millimetres away from mocking. He noticed she still seemed completely fine with lifting a grown man (albeit a starving one) for a prolonged period of time, and he wondered whether witch education included strength training. As they flew over the forest, he saw a behemoth of a cherry tree poke out like a giant amongst men in the middle of the woods, and realised the witch was heading straight into its direction.
“Are you doin’ some sightseeing? ‘Cause we’re not exactly a tourist hotspot, but I guess I can see the appeal.”
She continued, “I mean, I’d give a rib or two to get out of here, but I suppose outsiders think all of this is super impressive, or whatever.”
Griffith was unsure whether she expected him to reply, and he did not dare risk puking his vocal cords up if he tried in his current state, so he just listened. While they got closer to the pink blossoms he saw glimpses of buildings peek out from under the dense foliage. The witch had slowed down significantly. Griffith suspected she was stalling.
“...I’m,” he rasped, his throat throwing a hissy fit. She glanced at him, surprised. “I’m not invading,” he managed, hoping she wouldn’t throw him to the lions, both literally and/or figuratively. The witch burst out in sharp but hearty laughter after a beat of silence.
“Oh, rest assured, I did not think you were, pretty boy. You look like you got mauled by an entire battalion, and we don’t have any of that here,” she laughed, and Griffith couldn’t stop the involuntary jerk of his body as he nervously looked at the ground. If she noticed, she did not show it, her breath evening out as she recovered from the mirth.
“Those brats are just a little jumpy since there’re actually some other guests from outside here right now,” she explained. “I tried killing them, but there was this one ridiculously strong fella among them who absolutely decimated my perfect little wicker guy with a single slash,” she mourned, pouting wistfully as she stared in the direction of the sea. Griffith stiffened at the mention of a stupidly overpowered man cutting down a witch’s work in one fell swoop. She definitely noticed this time, turning her attention back to him.
“Ah, I should probably set you down now, huh. You really need to get fixed up,” she slipped under the cherry blossom’s crown, the village hiding underneath revealing itself to Griffith like a timid lover at night. “You look like extravagantly fragrant shit,” she said, wrinkling her nose, adding, “No offence.”
Griffith let out a wheezing noise in reply. “None taken.”
She was a lot gentler in the landing than in the take-off (abduction), floating down to the ground gradually, holding Griffith so that he’d land feet-first. Either the child witches had warned every single inhabitant of Witchtopia and their mums, or the odd duo was just really noticeable, because a mainly pointy-hatted crowd approached as they descended, eyes locked onto him and the witch.
“Molda!” one of the elder witches yelled, and the witch dropped Griffith for the last half a metre of the way down, leaving him staggering on his decently emaciated legs, but quickly steadying him by his shoulders.
“Well,” she pursed her lips, squinting at the witches that were now running towards them. “You’re on your own for this last part, buckaroo,” she let go of him before slapping his back in greeting, making him stumble forward with the impact. “I gotta skedaddle,” she said, and with that she sped off, back into the wide sky. Griffith watched her leave before turning back to the crowd, and it just so had to happen that, like the centripetal force between the earth and the sun’s core, his eyes were immediately locked on those of a man in the back of the herd, face frighteningly familiar.
Delayed vertigo hit Griffith like a speeding stallion, and he felt his legs give up trying to achieve the impossible as he collapsed in on himself, right as the witches reached him, their concerned shouts blurring together with his dancing vision into one nauseating sludge.
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