#I promise if you’re not tall skinny and white you can still be desirable and attractive to others | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlefreya · 5 years ago

Text

Lines in the Sand

Summary: She is one of the best snipers serving in Iraq, but she is also suffering from an attitude problem and ironically has a hard time following orders. After an incident in her former base, she is sent to join the Special Forces unit led by Captain Syverson, who requires a talented sniper.

Unlucky for her, Captain Syverson is a hard man who likes things by the book and according to order. He ain't got the patience for troublemakers.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Jessica Gallagher)

Word count: 1,784

Warnings: Smut in future parts, some foul language and sexual content.

A/N: Please enjoy, reblog, like. The world needs more Syverson, and I think he is one of Henry's finest roles.

Bad girl.

That’s what they say she is; trouble, attitude problems.

She heard all of it at psych evaluation.

'Prodigy' is another word they use for her.

And sometimes even 'asset'.

She likes this one the most. It strips her of all human notions.

That’s the only reason to keep her around, and it’s not like she has any desire to go home anyway. Home is tough. Here in the desert, surrounded by death and horny virgins - that’s the easy part.

“Killing is easy,” she said to the military psychologist who had her profiled from head to toe before being transferred to camp Warhorse.

“Gallagher?” a young soldier calls toward her, huffing and covered with a sheen layer of sweat as he runs toward her. She glares at him bemused, holding the fresh new uniforms which she just collected from the storage unit.

“Yeah?"

The boy's face is lightly freckled, his big doe eyes seem untouched by war and his freshly shaven buzzcut shows he only just arrived. 'More meat for the grinder' she muses, just another kid who doesn't belong here, like the most of them. She knows the type well enough to write a thesis about it by now. If she thought she had any brain to do that sort of stuff.

"Captain Syverson wants to talk to you.”

The kid looks her up, probably wondering why she even here. She got used to that type of stare a while ago.

“I just arrived here from another division” she explains, “didn’t even get into my uniform, what’s the fucking rush?”

The kid shrugs, looking slightly terrified as if she is supposed to be scared of Captain Syverson and shouldn’t be talking that way.

“Fine…” she sighs heavily, lowering the tip of her army hat and rolling her eyes.

As a soldier serving at the professional US army, Gallagher knows she has a shit-ton of issues with authority, yet she wouldn’t be in any other place.

The Captain sits at his office, wearing his favourite red t-shirt and army shorts that cut at his knees. A small portable fan is perched on his desk, pinning from side to side and blowing tiny droplet of sweat from his ridged forehead.

During that time of the year, the temperatures reach a level that won’t shame the fiery pits of hell. Even a southern-born man like him an effort dealing with the heat, but Sy suffers quietly, not even mentioning a word of the weather. Small-talk is a waste of time, and ain't nothing but the pretence that people care when they don't.

“Captain, Sir,” the kid walks into his room, saluting the Captain. “I have private Gallagher with me.”

The young woman follows, a blank stare on her face. She salutes toward the Captain, looking robotic and so indifferent he can tell already she had a great potential of pulling some stunt and getting detained.

“Thanks, Private Holt, you may leave now," he answers in a heavy southern accent, and voice low and rich like smoked Whiskey.

Holt leaves the room in a hurry, leaving Gallagher to stand quietly in front of the Captain. She has dressed in a plain white t-shirt and khaki field trousers while her eyes remain hidden beneath the tip of her hat.

“Sit down, soldier."

He commands, taking her file in his large dirt-stained hands.

She sits down quietly. Scanning the room with silence. It is yet another captain’s office, maps on the wall, guns and ammo. A "Slayer” labelled mug rests on in his desk with freshly brewed coffee, next to it is a deck of cards. No pinup girls posters apparent anywhere, not a perv unlike her former Captain, or at least he is hiding it in his bedroom.

He finally turns to look at her, manspreading on his chair with zero elegance or concern toward her. Why should she be treated any differently?

Captain Syverson is surprisingly a very attractive man. A big guy with broad shoulders and massive muscles. His cropped short hair does well to bring out his excellent bone structure while a few scars decorate his forehead and his upper left cheek. His strained face is covered with a thick, untamed beard which he strokes at his chin while thinking to himself.

He takes one glance at her with his fierce blue glare, and then gives her his next command “Hat off, private.”

“Sir”. She replies with compliance, taking off her hat and placing it atop her folded uniform.

One glance at her now exposed face, and he is forced to fight back a snort of laughter. He learned how to keep his emotions hooded in this job. She is petite, her arms may look strong yet quite skinny. And it’s quite a wonder that her skin is pale while serving in the middle of the fucking Iraqi desert.

If this was anywhere else right now, he’d offer her a burger. This is the elite they’ve been speaking of? For fuck sake. Better be worth it.

He is aware, of course, that she is pretty, they usually are. Chase and Annica for example. Sometimes he wonders if they send all the cheerleaders squad to his unit to fuck with him, since he can’t actually, fuck them.

“That’s better”. He gives her a small smirk which quickly fades back into what seems like his usual grumpy face.

“We’ll keep it short and honest, private,” he says, opening her file “You’ve been transferred here from your unit, they say you are a prodigy…”

“Take me out there, and I’ll shoot a rabbit between the eyes from 20 miles away.” she interrupts him, speaking coldly.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asks her with slight anger. Never in his life, he had a young recruit dare to do so, especially not a woman.

She remains silent, knowing that’s actually the required response. For change,

“Good. Your file shows amazing achievements” He throws her file in front of her with what seemed like an utter lack of actual interest “it also shows you have attitude problems.” His eyes meet hers as he says these words, his lips clasped to show some sort of severity. “Do you know what I want to know?”

Her blue eyes stare back into his with a dead gaze.

He sighs, rolling his eyes “Permission to speak granted.”

“You want to ask if I’m going to cause any trouble.”

He nods, folding his arms together, his eyes travelling up and down her features for a mere second.

“No, Captain.” She can’t promise him that even if a gun was pointed at her head, but she plays along. Everything in life is like her stupid video games anyway. Oh, she does miss those.

“Good.” He gives her another hasty smile, the kind that doesn’t show any genuine care or affection and is just meant to move the conversation forward. “So you know why you’re here?”

“I’m very good with my sniper rifle, Captain."

"It says you’re a fucking wonder”. He answers, not ashamed to curse in front of her, which she finds slightly refreshing. All the other men constantly apologize as if she doesn’t shoot people’s head-off for a living. As if women don’t see brutality as much as men do. Perhaps even more.

“Listen, I care about my men. Just live up to your name, be a good girl and you might just make daddy proud ”. He explains to her, not even regretting saying the finale part. It’s just how he talks and if she has a problem with that she might as well not be here.

But she doesn’t even flinch. Instead, she replies with a small, nearly invisible smirk and nods.

“Yes, Captain."

The Captain’s eyes lit up with the charm of a child as he smiles widely for surviving yet another conversation with a new recruit and even though he has scruff all over his face she detects two large apparent dimples in his cheek.

Finally, he stretches from his chair and stands. She follows, noticing he is menacingly tall and seems to carry himself with sheer confidence and intimidation.

"Come, I’ll show you your room."

She follows him silently down the hall. He doesn’t bother with making any boring small talk which she is actually quite thankful for. It’s easier to not try to connect with people. The base is quite loud at the moment anyway, and she’d be unable to hear half of it.

"Men go here.” He points to one room by the end of the hall and then continues walking until they pause next to a closed room, “Ladies go here, you met the other girls?” he asks to which she shakes her head “Well you will. Girls get their own private shower in the room, in under no circumstances you are to use the collective shower room”

He pauses and turns to look down at her. Eyes growing sofer all of a sudden. “Anyone ever bothers you, says anything even slightly inappropriate, you come straight to me, you get it?” he asks her, managing to sound both severe yet still soft at the same time.

“I’m just over there, by the end of the hall.” he looks to the other side, touching her shoulder without thinking, so she’ll face where he is pointing. His hand leaves her shoulder without any of them, giving it any attention.

The Captain has his own little private kingdom at the end of the very house they turned into an army base, so it seems. She wonders if that’s where all the pinup posters are hidden at.

“Enjoy your stay, Gallagher”. He speaks, looking down at her face, wondering how long will it be before he has her in his office for some sketchy behaviour.

“Thank you, Captain, I will.” she gives him another one of her forced smirks and turns away, walking into her new quarter.

He takes one look at her as she turns from him, unable to resist his natural temptation to look at her ass.

It’s small, tight, the way he likes it.

'Yes, she’s gonna be trouble.'

There are two girls in the room, sitting on their beds. A beautiful redhead with rather wide shoulders and strong arms. The other woman is somewhat petite as herself with tanned skin and beautiful dark eyes. They’re both looking quite curious to know her.

“The fuck is with your captain, walking around with severe big dick energy?!” she speaks out with sheer confidence.

The other girls look at her for a long moment, complete shock on their face by the content that came out of her mouth but then burst into laughter that can be heard all over the base.

Clearly, she isn’t the only one who noticed.

#Captain Syverson #Sand Castle #Captain BDE #henry cavill #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

belovedbangtan · 4 years ago

Text

Dive | Part 4 | jjk

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 2.5k

Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings:Language, oral sex, dom!Jk if you squint, mouth fucking... whoops.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

If the sound of the heavy rain hitting the top of your tent wasn’t enough to wake you, the defining sound of lighting cracking a tree in the distance was. You gasped sitting up quickly, almost forgetting where you were. His warm palm runs up your arm, making your remember. You turn your head back to look at him, his eyes were heavy like he had just woken up. He softly wrapped his fingers around your upper arm, pulling you back into him. A sigh falling from your lips as you snuggled back into your safe space. His right arms wraps around you so that his fingers can run through your hair, while his left comes across his stomach searching for your fingers to lace his through. You quickly find them, looking up at him through your long lashes.

His soft eyes finally meet yours, “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” the words fell from your lips in a daze. Soft and unsure, but maybe talking about it would make it seem less foreign.

The corners of his mouth turn up while his eyes sparkled, “I can relate,’ he drew in a long breathe, “I cant really explain it either.”

You nod while readjusting yourself, sitting up and crossing your legs. He copies you, sitting up tall playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

“I just got out of a relationship a week ago,” You rake your fingers through your hair taking in a long breath.

He cocks his head to the side taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, “Did you love Ben?” his voice is small, you can it’s not something he wants to talk about but you both know that its needed.

“I don’t know, I think so.” you rub your hands over your thighs, being forced to think about how you actually felt about one of the longest relationships you’d ever been in.

“You think?” He reaches out to take your hand in his. The instant tranquility that washes over just by being touched by him is something you can’t ignore.

“While I was in it, it felt like love to me... but,” You sigh searching his eyes hoping to find the words,“how do you know what love feels like?”

He tries to suppress a grin as he looks down quickly, he looks back up at you with adoration lacing all of his features, “I think it feels like this…”

Your chest tightens as you process what that means, you wish you weren’t so scared of everything that his words represented. You agree though, wholeheartedly. If you were ever to describe the feelings of falling in love, you would describe this moment.

“Why were you with him for so long if you weren’t sure you loved him?” His voice is soothing, almost as if you were fragile and if he spoke too loud you would break, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

You blink as his thumb brushes the back of your hand softly, “I think, maybe, I just liked having someone to call my own,” You start to explain. Telling him that you did have feelings for him, but you knew deep down that they weren’t feelings of love. You never thought about getting married, or having children, or a future at all with Ben. While you felt that way, a part of you felt secure knowing that you wouldn't be alone.

“Maybe I’m an idiot for staying as long as I did,” You look up at him and he shakes his head.

“I could say the same about all the relationships I’ve ever been in…” He starts to explain, “I think it’s normal, I think it’s what you’re supposed to do until you eventually find someone that makes you think like that. Someone that consumes your every thought, almost makes you feel like you were missing a part of you until you met them.” His hands are warm when they slide up your forearms, he tugs when he gets to your elbow. You follow his pull so that you’re straddling him.

“As scared as you might be, I promise you I’m feeling the same way,” He takes your face in between his hands letting his thumbs brush the area just below your eyes, “But it would be even scarier to stop whatever this could be.” His finger points from him to you repeatedly.

“Jungkook, we’ve literally only known each other for 3 days,” You close your eyes feeling psycho finally saying it out loud.

“Look, I’m not asking to get married or anything. I just think you should know how incredibly whipped I am for you already,” He chuckles as his lips lightly press onto the tip of your nose.

Your eyes lift to meet his galaxy filled ones, they made you feel so warm. The kind of feeling you get when you finally get to slide into your bed after a long day. They felt like home. Of course, those feelings are always accompanied by some form of fear, but he was right. You would regret it forever if you ignored the way you felt for him.

“Whipped, yeah?” you lean away from him, letting your pointer and middle finger dance along his collarbone, “Tell me a little more about that,” your eyes widen sarcastically, he instantly scoffs loudly burying his head in your neck. His laughs are muffled, and his voice is soft, “Oh shush.”

He pulls back his face is serious now, “Are you feeling better?”

You nod in response hoping that he believes you. Your head still hurts and your throat is as dry as the Sahara. He reaches besides you to grab his phone, picking it up and seeing the LED screen lights up with the time, 2:42am. He lays back, keeping you on his chest. His fingers combing through your hair carefully.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” you whisper

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous to get back to reality.”

He sighs, “No I’m ready for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, there’s so much I want to do with you.”

He feels you smile into his chest, butterflies in your stomach start to feel like full blown birds. The fact that his brain instantly started to place you into his life was heartwarming to say the least. Yours was doing the same though. You couldn’t stop thinking about what your friends and family would think of this amazing man. The image of all of the dates you would go on, and all the sex you would have was obviously at the forefront. You instantly feel your core start to heat up at the thought of how he would fuck you. You knew he was the giving type, which could only mean that he was also that way in bed. Picturing the way his body would look above yours, as he fucks you into the mattress. You shake the thoughts, recalling that if you wouldn't have gotten sick you might have seen him naked running into the river.

“Did they all skinny dip tonight?” you tilt your head upward so that you can see his face.

“Mhm.”

“You didn't go?”

His brows scrunch together and he looks at you like a crazy person, “You were literally white in the face, love.” He brings his hand up to your cheek, “besides... the only person I have the desire to skinny dip with is you.”

You look away, with your cheeks burning red, “Well then I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“I’ll never say no to that,” He rasps, while his fingertips dip underneath your shirt. His knuckles brushing back and forth on your hip, the simple touch alone sets your body on fire. Your breathing starts to quicken, and you need to touch him. You turn your head away from his chest to reach his neck. Your lips linger under his ear for a moment, before you drag them down to his collar bone.

His breath hitches, “Mm, your lips feel so good.”

He has no idea how good your lips feel, but you want to show him. You scoot yourself down his body, lifting his shirt so you can pay attention to the abs that he works so hard on. His cock is straining in his boxers and your cheeks redden knowing you did that to him. As your tongue traces the indentations on his stomach, your hand floats down to let him know you’re aware of his situation.

“I feel like you haven’t quite seen their potential,” you look up at him through your lashes, “Can I show you?”

His brows nit together, “Please,” he begs, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

You smile devilishly at him before sliding his boxers down his legs. You reposition yourself to sit in front of him, between his legs. You take him in your hand pumping him slowly, as filthy thoughts flood your mind. How badly you want to sink down onto him and feel him deep inside you. Without thinking you bend forward teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. He hisses at you throwing his head back, apparently you weren’t the only one with dirty thoughts running through your mind. You wet your lips before kitten licking him again, this time his eyes are on you. His tongue jabs against the inside of his cheek. The change in his demeanor makes you feel like you might melt.

You instantly take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around before pulling him out with a popping sound. You kitten lick him one more time before looking up at him again.

“Baby, please stop teasing me.” His voice is weak, you can see how turned on he is.

Without answering you wrap your mouth around his cock. Bobbing up and down, you take his cock deeper each time. Feeling him tap against the back of your throat, you start to moan. The vibrations from your throat earn a guttural moan from him.

You pull yourself off of him, letting your hand mimic what your mouth was doing. Your finger comes up to your lips, with a quiet ‘shh’.

He grins at you before he reaches down, tangling his long fingers in your hair. You take him off guard when you lean up to spit on his cock. His brows raise when your mouth follows the string of spit back, taking him in slowly. You start to bob your head again but slower this time. His fingers tighten at the back of your head, and he starts to push down. Slow at first, making sure it was something you were into. You start to moan, and he takes that as an invitation to keep going. He pushes you down onto his cock, making you gag for seconds before pulling you off of him.

“FUCK, Princess. That feels too good.” He sits up quickly pulling your mouth to his, your tongues dance for dominance. You whine into his mouth, needing more from him.

“Want you to fuck my mouth,“ you beg into his mouth, your hand still working mercilessly.

He grins as he continues to peck your lips and cheeks, he loves seeing you so fucked out. He instantly starts to think about how sexy you’ll be when you’re begging for his cock inside you.

“Such a good girl, you want me to cum down your throat?” His tone is taunting, you nod your head aggressively, “Please.” You beg, and you know this is unlike you but your body is screaming for you to please him.

You lower your head again, with his head pushing gently. You control yourself at first, until he puts his hands on each side of your face, slowly lifting his hips to meet your mouth. He picks up his speed, and you feel tears start to prick in the corners of your eyes. You wont stop him though, you need to feel him finish in your mouth.

His thumb lifts to wipe your tears away, “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby girl,” You look up at him and he rams his cock into your throat, making the tears fall harder. He keeps fucking your throat and you can tell he’s getting close with how his thrust are staggered.

“G-gonna cum- Fuck!” He grunts before pushing your head down all the way. You nose meeting his pelvis bone, and you feel his warmth coating your throat. He throws his head back, loosening his fingers from your hair. You pull off of him, licking him clean. He shivers at the touch of your tongue on his sensitive cock. You sit up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hands. You realize he’s watching with squinted eyes. You move to the side letting him put his boxers back on, once he does he pulls you into his arms.

“That was amazing,” His lips press against your temple. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed for showing him this side of you so early.

“Are you shy now? Hmm?” He starts to giggle, tickling your side. You laugh hard trying to push him away from you, he stops finally, pulling your breathless figure closer to him. His hands find your face again, “Don’t be embarrassed, you turn me on more than anyone ever has. That was so unbelievably sexy… you are so unbelievably sexy.”

You press your lips into a fine line, is now the time to tell him that he makes you giddy like a teenage school girl? Should he know that even when he isn’t trying, he makes you melt like a popsicle on a hot summer day? Then when he does try your brain basically start to malfunction from lack of oxygen because he literally leaves you breathless.

“I haven’t done anything like that before,” you say quietly, praying that your lack of experience isn’t a turn off, “I’ve done it, just not like that.” You look away, tracing his tattoos with your pointer finger.

“Well, did you like it?” He asked with concern lacing his voice.

Your cheeks heat up and all you can do is nod. He laughs quietly with relief.

“Such a good girl for me,” He rasps while kissing your head again, “Get some sleep, okay?”

Your lids are heavy and your breathing starts to match up with him. As comfortable as you were with Jungkook, you were still shocked that you allowed yourself to take things to that level so soon. When you started dating Ben you made him wait months, just because you weren’t quite sure of things. You have only known Jungkook for three days technically. You could lie to yourself and say that he was just a rebound. Tell yourself that the way you felt about him was normal. It wasn’t normal and there was no hiding it. It was a terrifying thought, and something that you really didn’t want to process. As much as you loved being wrapped in his arms, and the feeling of comfort that accompanied it; your gut warned you that things might be too good to be true.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @itboykook @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298

A/N: PLEASEEE dont forget to tell me your thoughts! It makes me want to write more! Also Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! <3

#bts #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fluff

225 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Text

Disaster Lads: A Collab, Part One

This is part one of a five-part collab piece I did with @whumpiary! In which our disaster lads meet and the inevitable ensues.

CW: Referenced drugging, forced drinking, referenced past noncon, some dubcon fuckiness and trauma response headspace. Things get darker as we go, and more explicit, too. But also Kauri flirts and it’s adorable. Just a fair warning. I’ll do warnings for each individual chapter as we go.

Tagging Kauri’s crew: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl, @spiffythespook, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly

Kauri isn’t entirely sure how it happened, but somehow his back is against a wall, a drink is in his hand, and there’s a man leaning over him with that grin on his face that Kauri usually likes… but today, he doesn’t.

The bar is kind of dark, and there’s a band playing something that mostly sounds like sad yelling over geese honking to Kauri, but everyone had cheered when the band came onstage so maybe he just doesn’t get the music. He’s not even dressed for the bar, honestly - he’s in his big black zip-up sweatshirt, Dustin’s so it hangs off his shoulders and his hands are mostly covered by the sleeves. A thin thrift-store t-shirt and ripped-up black skinny jeans, the faded old checkered slip-on sneakers he’s had forever… he looks halfway homeless.

The guy has him cornered anyway, and Kauri is feeling all the other drinks he’s let guys buy him tonight, kind of spinning and silly with the alcohol in his veins. It makes it easier not to feel uncomfortable, but part of him is.

He wants to say no, but the word sticks in his throat.

“Come on,” The guy says, leaning over him - it feels like looming - and pushing even closer into his space. “I bought you the drink, the least you could do is a little something for me in return.”

I don’t want to, Kauri thinks in something like a panicked wail.

The man’s knuckles brush the side of his throat and it’s probably a flirtation but Kauri thinks of Owen’s hands around his neck - it feels like a threat.

“Wh-what… what did you have in mind?” Kauri’s voice is airy, a little breathless. His heart is pounding, his face is flushed, and maybe he looks into this… but he’s not. But it kind of seems like the guy maybe knows and doesn’t care.

“A lot of shit, honestly, you’ve been on my radar a while, but first… let’s start with you finishing that drink.” He reaches out and takes the glass out of Kauri’s hand, raising it to his lips. The first sip of syrupy-sweet cocktail seems more like liquid ash on Kauri’s tongue. “You’re a pretty cute drunk.”

“Am… am I?” He asks when the man lets him stop drinking. “I, I don’t want-”

“Have another drink,” The man interrupts, and pushes the rim of the glass against his lips again.

Cass had been watching the guy with the curly hair and the cute smile on and off all night. Partly because he's pretty. Partly because he looks like he’s dressed for a soup kitchen rather than a bar. But mostly because he looks familiar. Annoyingly familiar, in a way that’s maybe more significant than ‘hey didn’t we fuck in a bathroom stall one time?’.

The girl Cass has been chatting to is very, very, very boring. Stupidly boring. So it’s ridiculously easy to focus his attention just over her shoulder at Curly Hair and the guy who’s got him pressed against the wall in the corner, and the pink drink that’s being held up between them, fed to the shorter of the two like it's the holy fucking grail.

Desires are sticky. Syrupy. And in a bar like this, with music like this, with people like this, revulsion is bitter and obvious. Like whiskey in apple juice. Like smoke under perfume.

Cass wishes he'd had more to drink. A couple more vodka tonics and he'd probably refuse to give a shit. But he's annoyingly sober, and he can't help but notice Curly Hair sort of glance around, looking for an exit that doesn't exist.

Cass watches as he smiles, tilts his head. Cass' stomach lurches. He's seen that head tilt. Fuck, Cass has given that head tilt. I want you to want me but I don't want this.

“Hey Kirsty," he says, serving a grin to the blonde next to him. She frowns.

“It’s Kristie.”

“Right. Kristie,” Cass says. Easy smile, a finger tracing circles on the back of her hand. “You wanna go dance? I’ll catch up in a sec”

The girl pouts, grabbing his hand, “Aren’t you gonna come? I kinda thou-”

“Kʀɪsᴛɪᴇ, ɢᴏ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ.”

The girl's frown melts into a grin faster than she can notice what’s happening and nods her head enthusiastically, like dancing had been her idea in the first place. And then she’s gone, melted into the pulsing mass of bodies.

Cass needs to get out of here. In a bar like this, with music like this, with people like this, the feeling of I don’t want this is so loud and grating it makes Cass’ heart catch in his throat. And then there’s the other guy. Cass can feel the fucking lust pouring off of the guy. Not just the desire for an easy lay but the absolute exhilaration of a predator who’s got dinner trapped. Or is about to, Cass thinks, eyes following the asshole’s gaze to where they're fixated on a sickening cocktail he’s feeding the smaller guy.

Cass pushes himself away from the bar. He needs to get out of here. He needs to get out of here before he does something stupid because he promised Lou he wouldn't pick anymore fights and because this is none of his business and just because the guy seems familiar doesn't mean Cass knows him but he still finds himself snaking to the corner, anyway, grabbing the tall guy by the elbow-

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” he says, feigning rapt enthusiasm.

The taller guy looks Cass up and down. His hair is annoyingly perfect. Like if you tapped it, maybe it'd make a sound like knocking on hard plastic.

“I don’t think so,” the guy says, shark teeth twisted into a grin. Cass watches as his grip tightens minutely on the glass he’s holding. Yeah, fuckhead. Wouldn’t want to lose that, now would we? “If you don’t mind, we’re kinda busy.”

And he's turning back to Curly Hair, who is melting into the wall, a skittish mess of maybe he’ll talk to the new guy - if it’s what you want then I want it - I don't want this - just say no kauri you can just say no - I want this I want you - just say no stop it stop - no just drink it don’t make him mad - I don't want this and Cass really fucking wishes he'd had another few drinks because then he could just walk away, but instead he hits the cocktail careening out of Tall Guy's hand, a spectacular pink mess over the guy's crisp white shit.

Kauri flinches back, hands up over his mouth, staring wide-eyed at the mess.

"Shit, dude. Sorry. I'm such a klutz," Cass grins, holding up innocent hands with a shrug. "That roofie wasn't expensive or anything, was it?"

And sure, maybe this was none of his business, but it's so satisfying when the guy shoves him into the wall. Maybe even more satisfying than the sound of the crunch of the guy's nose breaking as Cass headbutts him in the face.

The guy stumbles back, hands over his nose as blood starts to pour, screaming half-formed curse words that are muffled by his hand and the nasal sound of his voice. From behind the bar, a bartender yells, “God damn it, no fighting! What the fuck, Kauri?!”

Kauri curls back against the wall, his wide, frightened eyes going from the bloody pink-stained man to the new guy who had hit him with his whole entire head and back again. “I’m sorry!” He shouts back to the bartender. “I’m sorry I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, well, do something about it!”

Kauri gives the bartender a look of incredulous terror. He’s 5’7” and all lithe, willowy flexibility and he has the brute fighting strength of a very small kitten.

“Like what, exactly?!”

The guy drops his hand - the bottom half of his face is a mess of blood now - and with a snarl, pulls his fist back to punch Cass again.

“Stop them fighting over your dumb hot ass or I’m calling the cops, Kauri!”

The name sticks in Cass' head as he lets the guy land another punch, hard on his cheek.

"Kᴀᴜʀɪ, ɢʀᴀʙ ʜɪs ᴀʀᴍ," he says, on impulse, because the guy is kinda huge and Cass isn’t particularly strong, and he’s been in plenty of fights but he usually only stops them by not really being conscious anymore.

Kauri’s hands snap out thoughtlessly, grabbing the guy’s other arm and helping Cass shove him face-first against the wall, only to freeze up, eyes widening even more in terror as he has no idea why he just did that.

"You better calm the fuck down, man," Cass says, twisting the guy’s wrist so it twinges just a little behind him. He feels amped up and shaky with adrenaline. He hopes he looks as feral as he feels. The big guy blinks, slow and stupid as he tries to catch up with what just happened. "'Cause either I'm gonna kill you or the bar staff are gonna call the cops on your ass. And we both know what they're gonna find in that glass.”

The guy's eyes widen in shock, then narrow. “You can’t prove-”

“You roofied me?” Kauri asks, as though the multiple comments Cass had made had only just sunk into his mind. He felt himself reel with horror, trying to pull away, but his hands just… don’t want to let go of the man’s arm. Panic was a drumbeat in his mind. He knows what roofies are, Nat told him about those, and that they taste kind of salty but there was a salt rim on the drink the guy bought him-

“You were going to roofie me?”

“That jackass broke my nose!” The guy yells, although it comes out more like dat jackash boke by dose. Cass kind of wants to interject that he probably didn't break the guys nose, but it doesn't really seem like the time. “I’ve been talking to you all night and you just believe some asshole that walks up and punches a stranger?”

“I… I…” Kauri cringes back from the fury in the man’s voice. He’s going to be hurt, and he’s terrified, and the only thing on earth he wants right now is to get out of here and away before the man’s hands are around his neck just like Owen’s, it’ll be like that, he’ll hurt and hurt and then pass out and if he can just maybe make nice the guy will stop being angry-

“I, I’m sorry, you-... you did buy me the drink, that was… that was nice… but, but if he saw you-"

"He didn't see shit."

The guy did not seem to realize that that wasn't exactly denying he'd done it.

Cass feels cold fury run through him. He can feel the lust-turned-sour, good-night-wasted annoyance that the guy in front of him is vibrating with. And the panic pouring off of Kauri, so palpable and crystalline it may as well be his own. The want to run away, to get out of here, to back down, to apologise, make nice. They mingle together in his head.

Who the fuck tries makes nice with the asshole who was gonna drug them? He tries to ignore the ‘you sure used to’ that creeps into his head.

Cass doesn't care. He wants to run away and he wants to get out of here but more than that he wants to make someone bleed. This guy walked into the bar tonight, sought out the most vulnerable guy he could find and thought prey. He deserves to know what that feels like. He flips the guy around, pressing a hard hand to his chest to keep him flush to the wall.

“I think I’m gonna call you Scooter,” Cass says “You look like a Scooter”

“The name’s Matt, jackass,” the guy growls. It takes way too much effort to pronounce the M. Cass grins. Matt, huh?

"Alright, Mᴀᴛᴛ. Tᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ G ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ. Gɪᴠᴇ ᴜs ᴀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ,” he says. The guy blinks, reaches mindlessly into the pocket of the shitty jeans he’s wearing and pulls out a nondescript little bottle. Matt is staring at the drugs like he can’t imagine how they possibly got into his hand. Cass grins. It’s nice to stare at a predator and make them feel small. "I think he should have to drink it. What do you think, Kauri?"

"Jesus Christ," Matt says, nasally and strangled. "Why did... What the fuck, I should knock your teeth out!"

Kauri grabs the pill bottle out of his hand and tries, despite his hands shaking so badly the fucking bottle rattles, to look like he's reading, carefully keeping his eyes unfocused so they won't try to settle on or understand the letters. Kauri steps closer to them both, putting his hands up slowly, like a man being held hostage.

"Look, you guys, we can just… nobody has to fight," He says, pitching his voice lower, cocking his head just a little to the side. "The bouncers are gonna kick us all out in a second and, and I don't need-... We don't need that, right? Matt? We don't need to, to have anybody closer than this. Just us, right?"

His heart hammers, heartbeat so strong it's nearly knocking the breath out of him. His voice is airy, and soft, and just a little flirty under the fear.

You can fix this. No one calls the cops, no one tells, no one looks too close.

"You didn't n-need that, I'd have… have gone with you anyway, Matt…"

Kauri, you can't say yes if you don't know how to say no. He ignores Nat's strident voice in his head and slides just a little closer, the rise and fall of his chest and the whites around his eyes the only giveaway of his fear. He can see bouncers and he has to make this better before too many people are looking at them.

Matt snorts a kind of bitter, angry laughter, then winces as that burns his injured nose. "You would. The ones like you always do, right?"

Kauri freezes, all the color draining out of his face. The bottle of pills drops to the floor and rolls away, kicked by someone walking by and getting lost somewhere in the crowd. "What?"

"Tell your fucking White Knight to fuck off," Matt says reaching out to grab Kauri's left wrist. "Kauri Grant."

Cass doesn't have time to figure out why the fuck that name sounds so familiar. All he needs to know what's happening is in that look on Kauri's face. He's seen that look. God, he's given that look. Whoever Kauri Grant is, he needs to be the hell away from here. Now.

"Okay, seriously buddy, we don't want anymore trouble," he tries, taking a quick glance at the bouncers closing in behind them "How about you let this go and we do too?"

"I'm not letting go of shit," says Matt, with a smile full of blood. He has one hand locked over Kauri's wrist, pushing up against the leather bracelet there. "Do you have any idea how much this little whore is worth?"

Cass swings the punch before he even has the chance to think what that could mean. Which is maybe not a great move, actually, with bouncers headed their way and a bar full of patrons who are starting to look over. It's especially not a great move because Matt swivels, jerking out of the way, sending Cass' fist straight into the side of Kauri's skull.

Kauri's world crashes at the impact, stumbling back and falling hard onto his side on the floor, head bouncing against the sticky woodgrain, blinking against the black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

It doesn't stop the panic.

Kauri Grant Kauri Grant Kauri Grant

"Y-you can't," he tries, his voice sounding weird and off to his own ears, pushing himself up. "Can't, can't turn me in-"

"I wasn't going to, before that little shit showed up," Matt says with a nasty note of triumph in his voice, one Kauri knows too well. "The guy who just hit you."

Kauri manages to stand up, catching the bouncers too close, too close, and he grabs onto Cass's arm. "He was… was trying to hit you," Kauri says, voice shaking. "And you-... tried to drug me."

"Like no one's ever drugged you before," Matt sneers, and Kauri swallows, hard, and doesn't protest. Matt waves at the bouncers. "Hey! This is Kauri Grant!"

The frozen fear in Kauri thaws and he jerks at Cass's arm to yank him not towards the door but deeper into the bar, pushing through the crowd towards the other side of the stage.

Kauri Grant Kauri Grant Kauri Grant

Cass knows that name, why does he know that name?

It doesn't matter. What matters is they get the hell away from here right now. He turns in Kauri's grip to look over his shoulder, locks eyes with the asshole who seems intent on ruining this poor bastard's life.

"Mᴀᴛᴛ," he yells as he's hauled away into the crowd, "Sʜᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ."

It's not exactly elegant but Matt slams his jaw closed so hard Cass can see him wince against the jolt of pain through his bashed in face. Cass cackles as they disappear into the mass of bodies on the dancefloor.

He feels high. There's twin feelings gripping his chest, the thrill of a fight and the blinding panic of running away. The rush of beating someone at their own game twisted with the knowledge that they need to get the hell out of here before they're caught. He has no idea what's happening but it's fast and it's thrilling. It's making him dizzy, making his blood pump electric. He barks another laugh as he dodges some random guy's elbow, grips Kauri's hand even harder and lets himself be pulled.

"God, who the fuck is Kauri Grant?"

Kauri pulls him to a small door labeled EMPLOYEES ONLY just to the side of the stage, shoving it open and stumbling out into a dark alley, the sudden chill on his skin the only reason Kauri realizes he's sweating.

Out here the noise is gone, there's the sound of sirens far away, and Kauri's eyes dart around, thinking, before he pulls Cass to the right, further down the alley, stepping over refuse and empty beer bottles.

"I… I am," Kauri says, voice thin. The side door they just left opens and he pulls Cass quickly against the wall with him to hide behind a dumpster. "I'm Kauri Grant." He swallows hard, panic still beating at the back of his mind, and slowly slides down the wall to sitting, putting his head in his hands.

"You hit really hard for how skinny you are, d'you know that?"

Maybe it’s the sudden cold, or maybe it’s the way Kauri’s holding his head, but waves of exhaustion and regret and fear hit Cass all at once. He ducks down as voices and noise filter wide and loud, and then go squashed and muffled again with the swinging of the door.

“Fuck man, I’m so sorry,” he mutters, ducking his head to assess the damage. “I didn’t even think”

He reaches out a hand, pulls it back before contact. He really doesn’t know how to do this. The whole… God, what did Fuckhead McGee call it? The whole White Knight schtick. Is he meant to go find ice? Buy the guy a drink for his troubles? Usually when he finds himself kneeling on the wet concrete of an alley in front of a stranger it’s for a very different reason.

Cass sits back on his heels and laughs, loud and unabashed. He’d listened to that girl at the bar talk about her boyfriend for forty minutes when he should’ve been finding some pretty guy to sneak away with. And then he found a pretty guy and punched him in the face. Which… wasn’t always a dealbreaker, but even in the now relative quiet of the alley his heart is still slamming like there’s something to run away from and his brain feels cracked open and Jesus Christ, this night is already just so fucking dumb.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he says between giggles. He tries to calm it down to a grin. “I swear I’m not laughing at you, Kauri Grant. Did I, um…Is your head okay?”

"Yeah, my head's fine. I've been hit before," Kauri says, not quite muttering, rubbing his hand into his black curls. "Not usually in the head, but, you know, it's kinda empty anyway." He flashes a bright, deflecting smile, looking up at Cass.

Kauri's head cocks slightly to the side, something in his smile changing, softening a little. Not quite flirtation, something more in self-defense. "Can you just say Kauri, please? I don't, um, I don't like his name. Very much. It's just, that's what they call me…" His voice trails off. "Thanks for, um. For catching that guy… I didn't know he put something in it... I didn’t know he knew.”

Cass frowns a little, trying to understand. Didn’t know who knew what?

"Okay you have to back up, you're giving me more questions than… than answers right now..."

But then the pieces of Kauri he's seen through the night start falling together. The skittish eyes that didn't match with the flirting smile. Thanking the guy who would have happily held him limp in a basement. The wanting and wanting and wanting paired with the desperate need to run away.

The ones like you, that guy had said, looking at Kauri like he was something to be eaten. The ones like what? The ones who met conflict with apologies and desperate bids for distraction. His eyes flick to the bracelet on Kauri's wrist, thick and leather and out of place amongst the rest of his "robbed a Good Will" ensemble and too wide, really to be stylish. Just wide enough to hide a tattoo, maybe. Or a brand.

I don’t like his name very much. Cass feels himself paling.

"Oh my god, you're somebody's," he whispers. He closes his eyes and scrubs a hand over his face. Swallows the dry lump in his throat. "You're meant to belong to somebody."

Kauri jerks his arms back against himself, pulling the sleeve of his sweatshirt over the bracelet about ten minutes too late.

He looks up at Cass, blue eyes wide and pleading, and reaches out his hand to brush his fingers against Cass's hand, pitching his voice lower.

"You, you don't have to tell anyone. That I'm, um. You don't have to. I can… I can-" He has no idea how to say this. He focuses his thoughts on what he knows, falling back on training. I want this. I want you. I am an active participant in fulfilling my owner's desires.

"I can, um. Whatever you, you want, if you won't say you saw me?" His voice shakes - he can't seem to stop it. He has to hope it sounds like the good kind of nervous and not the terror he really feels.

Cass feels his stomach drop, something catching in his throat as fingers brush the back of his hand again. The tug and pull of I want this. The tilt of Kauri’s head is so tempting it looks rehearsed. I want you.

“That’s…” Kauri’s eyes are gorgeous — huge and blue and desperate — and Cass has to close his own just to think straight. “That’s not what… I, um.”

I want this. I want you. Resolute and relentless against his thoughts. I want this. I want you. Over and over and over again. Frenzied and pleading and wanting and fucking terrified. I want this. I want you.

Cass curls his fingers around Kauri’s, running his thumb along the other boy’s palm. I want this. I want you. Something in him feels shaken up and loose at the hinges from feeling it. It feels wrong. Too familiar, too close to home, too close to… something. Please let me want this. Please want me too.

Cass closes his eyes again, shakes his head. Maybe it’s just the after effects of being knocked crooked. Cass did punch the guy in the face. And it’s been kind of a fucked up fifteen minutes. Maybe they both just need the distraction. The relief of something simple and easy. And if they're both actively participating in something dumb and fun and stupid, maybe it’ll be enough to make them both feel better.

“Look, I’m not… I’m not gonna say anything,” he says, tugging Kauri’s hand closer, tracing a line up his arm. I want this. He smiles, let’s the pulse of it spur him on “We can just have fun, okay? I’m not gonna say anything”

Relief washes over Kauri, a wave of it that nearly knocks him over. He’s doing it right, his voice is right, all the training is working and letting him slide into an easier place in his head. His smile isn’t quite sincere and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but the relief in it is very real.

Besides, the guy is cute, and Kauri would’ve gone home with him, too.

The ones like you always do.

There’s an unease - he doesn’t always like that things like that are true, about him - and he chases it away by closing his eyes and focusing his thoughts. I want this, I want him - and that part definitely isn’t a lie - and I’ll be safe if I give him this.

“Okay, um, th-thanks,” He says, voice just a little breathy, ducking his head with another shy smile.”I’m, um, I’m up for basically anything, basically always.” He gives a cheeky little grin and a laugh, like that’s a joke he tells to a lot of people and has memorized the timing on. “Just, I’m not trained for-... I don’t go in for pain. That’s it. Hey, so, um, you know my name… what’s yours? So I know what to scream later.”

He’d heard that in a movie once and always kind of wanted to say it.

Cass laughs, broken harmony against Kauri's own. The line is lame but it doesn’t really matter. Kauri makes it charming. He is ridiculously good at this.

"Cass. But usually people just stick with ‘oh, God'," he laughs, moving in closer, grin against grin. He leans in to brush his lip against Kauri's jaw, slow and teasing, hands staying steady on the guy's knee as Kauri hitches in a breath and shivers, turning his head to give Cass a better angle for it. "And I go for anything."

He wants this. They both do. The relief of something familiar and safe. Just a minute of stupid normal. I want this. Cass plants a kiss at the corner of Kauri's jaw. I want him. Cass lets his hand slide from knee to thigh. I'll be safe if I give him this. Cass pulls himself closer in, brings his fingers up to tangle in the dark curls at the nape of Kauri’s neck and… and…

I'll be safe if I want this.

The wave of revulsion that runs through him is slow and sickly, like hot tar, like molasses. Familiar and foreign in the same mouthful.

"Sorry. I, uh," he pulls back and he can feel the ghost of Christopher's hands on his hips, pulling his hair back, lips against his cheek – Don't hesitate, darling boy. Show me what you want.

“Hey… you okay?” Kauri murmurs the words, and it’s with real concern, shivering at the feeling of Cass’s fingers in his hair, slipping his own hands to touch lightly at his ribs on either side, a question and a test.

Cass feels adrenaline gripping him but that's fine, that's good, because wanting and fear walk the same line anyway. I'm an active participant. Which doesn’t feel like the shape of a thought that’s his but is close enough to that it doesn’t matter. He wants this. It's safer to want it. Then you don't have to think. You don't have to feel. That's why places like this are fun, why nights like these are so good.

So like every other night like this, he pulls in close to prettiest guy in the bar, pushes down the resistance in himself, and kisses him fucking senseless.

Kauri’s head tilts back and up for it, twisting his fingers hard into Cass’s shirt to pull him in even closer, until his head bumps back into the wall behind him and he loses his balance, falling back to sitting on the ground with a soft, sweet little laugh, a breath of air before he lets Cass kiss him mindless again.

The safest he’s felt for weeks is times like this, a man’s hands on him, a man’s mouth on his, knowledge and certainty that someone wants him, that he has something to give other people, some way to earn their kindness and repay it. His hands slide up Cass’s neck to tangle in his hair, too, pulling him in as close as he can get on the ground in a dark alley, skin lighting up everywhere they touch.

“H-hey, I can’t, ah-...” He breaks free, and flashes the shy little smile again. He feels so good now, safer, because he’ll be good and he knows Cass meant it when he said he wouldn’t tell, he looks like someone who won’t tell anyone, and Kauri has to trust him. “I don’t… I’m technically homeless. So if you think I’m taking you home, uh… welcome to my house, I guess,” He says, gesturing at the alley around them and then laughing a little to himself.

He’s gotten himself this far, but there’s still a hint of the artificial conditioning twining all his conscious thoughts. I want this is real and true but it’s also what he knows how to say, and I’m safer if I want it, I matter if someone wants me and I want to matter to someone runs under honest desire as he moves to slip his hand up under Cass’s shirt.

“H-how do you, how do you want to… um… this?”

Cass practically vibrates at Kauri's touch and he leans in even closer. Every touch is a relief. His body has been begging for this, for touch, all week

"Well I'd say we could go back to mine but…" Cass thinks of white walls, screaming fluorescents. His tiny quarters with the single bed and the sliding door that Tucker swans in and out of as he pleases. "Mine's not really much of a house either. So I guess we'll just get creative at yours"

He catches Kauri's lips again and pulls himself in closer until he's all but straddling the guy's lap. Kauri moves his body against Cass's like he was custom made for it. He lets his hand come to a gentle rest on the column of the guy's throat, his thumb tracing the line from his chin to his collar and back up again.

This is all Cass has wanted all week. To wrap himself in someone else's wants and just disappear for a bit. And yeah, maybe it feels a little off tonight. A little sickly. Like eating overripe fruit. But it's also been a long time since he's been this close to sober and trying to hook up with someone so who the fuck knows.

"Gotta say, I love what you've done to the place," he adds, breaking the kiss with a grin as he glances around at their elegant surroundings. Kauri laughs, almost a breathless giggle, glad he’s found someone with a real sense of humor even if it’s to keep him from telling anyone who he’s seen. Cass brings his lips to Kauris throat and let's his voice buzz electric along his jugular "I usually swoon for just one dumpster but three? You're such a romantic."

Kauri tips his head back against the wall behind him, staring up into the flat, featureless sky. As soon as Cass says the word Romantic, though, he goes perfectly still. Every muscle tense, for just a second it’s closer to holding a frightened animal than a person.

“Uh, th-thanks,” He manages, shakily, pushing the nerves back down. Just another way to call him a slut, like everyone else does, but he’ll do what he wants and be safer that way. It doesn’t matter if he calls Kauri a whore or a slut or a Romantic, it all means the same thing - people like him. People who can’t stop themselves, who don’t know better, who are nothing and no one unless somebody is touching them.

Cass is nice, and his hands and his mouth feel so good, and it doesn’t matter what he calls Kauri. What matters is giving him what he wants.

He makes himself relax, consciously, and slides his hands around behind Cass, shifting his hips up, letting training take over again until the nervousness could die back down. I matter if someone wants me, it doesn’t matter why or how, I’m safe if I want this.

“If you want, I could, um, could g-go down on you,” Kauri breathes, rolling his hips up.

Cass feels himself grinning at the same moment as he feels his stomach clench in a knot so tight he can hardly breathe. Wanting and fear walk the same line. The latter is easy enough to ignore.

"Fuck yes," he all but moans, swinging his leg around to sit against the wall beside Kauri. Cass fumbles for the button of his jeans. He wants this. Kauri does too. Cass can feel how much he wants this. Kauri wants to feel safe. He wants Kauri to feel safe. And he also wants his brain to shut off and stop screaming discomfort just because the water’s a little muddy.

It doesn't matter if he wants it because it's gonna feel so good once it's happening he won't even care. And then he'll make Kauri feel so good, Kauri won't care either. He won't care about being wanted. He won't care about being safe because Cass will make him feel fucking fantastic.

And all of that would’ve been fine if Cass didn’t look up and catch Kauri’s eyes. He feels the knot in his stomach twist. In less than a second any spark of libido he had had rots and dies. There’s no want in Kauri's eyes. No nervous excitement. It’s not eagerness that’s pulling their bodies in close.

Desperation and terror were just one hell of a cocktail. Especially when finished off with resignation.

Cass closes his eyes and let's his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk.

“No,” he whispers. “No, hold on, stop.”

He really wishes he'd had some ket. Or at least a bit of molly. Just something to blunt the edges of whatever the fuck is happening right now. Something is wrong with him.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, shaking his head. He doesn't open his eyes. "Something's wrong, I can't do this. You don't… you don’t..."

Kauri’s hands are still tangled in Cass’s shirt at first, and he slowly pulls them back, worried, leaning forwards to try and tilt his head and look closer at Cass’s face. No no no no. He’s done something wrong. He doesn’t know what, or how - it had seemed right, like it was all happening the way it was supposed to and soon enough he’d forget to be scared and just feel good things until it was done, and if it was good enough Cass wouldn’t tell anybody about him in case maybe he saw him again.

That’s how it works. Kauri gives, and he gets safety in return. But this isn’t safe.

You don’t even know if you actually want it or if you just think that because they made you. It’s what he thinks the end of that sentence probably is, because it’s what Dustin said when Kauri tried, and it’s what Jake said, and it’s what everyone tells him over and over again. That he can’t even know what he wants, because Owen wanted him brainless and a slut.

“I’m sorry, is it… something I’ve done?”

Cass scoffs a laugh, knocking the back of his head into the brick wall to try and shake his thoughts back straight. What the fuck is he meant to say? Sorry bro, my telepathy killed the mood.

“No,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face “No you didn’t do anything, you just… you’re just-”

You’re just too fucking close to my kind of broken.

There’s a harsh sort of panic bouncing off of Kauri in waves at the rejection. What the fuck is Cass meant to do though? He can’t pretend like everything’s fine because it’s not. He can’t tell him to piss off because then he’d really be an asshole. He can’t fuck him because it’d be… that’d be...

Cass’ stomach lurches. He slams his hands down against the concrete with a growl, kicks at an empty bottle by his leg. It scrapes harsh against the ground in a loud, grating circle and Cass flinches his foot back like it cut him.

“Jesus Christ, this is fucked,” he says, laughter twisting his voice and making it bitter. He looks over at the person who pulled him out of a bar fight ten minutes ago. This random person who he'd started a bar fight for fifteen minutes ago. This random fucking person he shouldn't give two shits about. Cass shakes his head, "You don't wanna be here, man. Just go home."

Kauri snorts, almost bitterly. “I can’t, remember? I don’t fucking have one. Although I guess I could go sit on the bus…” He sighs, watching Cass - and he’s not always good at reading people’s intentions, but he can read emotions fairly well and he can see that Cass looks nearly sick, either angry or upset, and he just takes in a deep breath, putting his hands up over his face and then down again.

“No, I get it. It’s because I’m a pet, right? It’s, you wanted to see what it’s like with a pet. You saw me with that guy and knew, and you thought you’d try, too, and you can’t… don’t want to, once I’m really here.”

Cass is shaking his head before Kauri even finishes speaking. Who calls themself a fucking pet?

"What the fuck? No. Jesus Christ, no," he screws his face up, rakes his hand through his hair.

Cass can feel something volcanic starting to bubble up inside of him.

He had done everything right tonight. He hadn't had too much to drink. He'd helped some random guy in trouble just because it was the right thing to do. He'd taken Kauri’s lead and then he'd read the warning signs and he'd stopped. He’d fucking stopped. How was he still the bad guy?

"No fucking way are you putting that bullshit on me," he spits. "You're the one who pulled me out here. I was just trying to help. You don't know what you want, then don't fuck with people's heads!"

“Fuck with people’s-” Kauri’s own voice edges with real anger. “I didn’t fuck with anybody’s head! I just, this guy hit on me and bought me a drink, and you showed up and said it was drugged! I didn’t do anything wrong, people talk about wanting to try out pets all the time, I-”

He catches himself, cutting off his own voice all at once like turning off a radio. No no no, if you make him mad he’ll tell someone or he’ll get really really mad or…

Kauri looks away, down at the alleyway pavement, scraping at it lightly with one shoe. “... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t get angry. You were really trying to help, and, and that was really nice of you, to do that. I was just trying to, to pay you back, I guess? Besides, you’re… really fucking cute, so…”

It's the exact same trick he'd tried on the guy inside, Cass realises. Make nice with the wolf and hope that it'll be kind when it eats you alive. It's too familiar and too close and aimed at him and Cass wants to retch. It's burnt sugar disgusting. The desperate need to stay safe, to keep everything calm. No matter the cost. No matter what you give away.

"See, that is exactly what I fucking mean. Two seconds ago you were so mad at me you were basically screaming and now you're apologising and telling me I'm cute just so I'll..."

Cass breaks off, shakes his head, staring up at the hazy not-black of city sky at night. He shoves away the twin claws of rage and confusion as he meets Kauri’s eyes again, tries to keep his voice even and something close to calm.

"Look, I'm not- I'm not gonna say anything, alright? Whatever your deal is, I'm not gonna tell the cops or whatever" Cass tries for a smile "Trust me, I'd be just as fucked."

“Would you really?” Kauri blinks at him, no sign of that earlier flash of anger left, either in his posture or in his expression. He’d done what he’s best at, when it comes to being mad - just pushed it down until he didn’t feel it any longer, and he could see things from the other person’s point of view. Like understanding that Owen was mad because he’d tried to talk to someone when he wasn’t allowed, and that Dustin was mad because Kauri wanted more than he was willing to give, and the way everyone was mad that he wouldn’t sit still.

“And thanks. I won’t tell you what the reward for ‘information regarding my whereabouts’ is, though, if it’s all the same to you.” He tries for a small, slightly sidelong smile, more sincere than his last attempt had been. “Are you a runaway, too? Is there a reward out for you?”

Cass only barely stops himself from balking at the remark. Kauri says it so casually, like having a price on your head is just an everyday annoyance they might be able to bond over. Just all in a day. “Uh… no. No, there isn’t. I would just…” I would just have my contract re-assessed. Risk having my indenture reset. End up permanently locked in the lab. Or back in Christopher’s den. “My, uh, employer wouldn’t be very impressed if you get what I’m saying”

He adjusts his grip on his arm subconsciously, thumb running over the scar that sits along his inner arm. He’s always sort of wondered if one of Tucker’s little chips is there, just sitting by his radial bone, too close to the artery to risk cutting out himself. Guess he’ll never know.

He snaps his attention back to Kauri. Matches the guy’s smile with his own.

“But a reward, huh? Fuck man.” he says. A lofty one at that, apparently. Kauri Grant. Maybe that’s why the name was familiar. He would’ve seen it on the TV or something. Jesus, he’d had to help the one fuckin’ guy with a more tragic backstory than him. He laughs a little, like this is just some sort of watercooler gossip. Mondays, huh? “What did you do, kill your keeper?”

"My, um, my owner. And… no, I-I couldn't-" Kauri's eyes widen with real horror at the thought. "No, I would never have… um, he was, wasn't always that bad… I probably, I just-... I mean I did fuck up, but I didn't hurt anybody."

He looks away from Cass, a little uncomfortably, and says, "He, uh. Got mad when I fucked up. He broke a promise, and I… left. I guess you'd see it eventually, since there's no way I wasn't gonna take my shirt off for you."

He pulls down on the stretched-out neckline of his shirt, and even in the dim alley, a bit of a large, twisted scar shows over his collarbone.

"He paid a lot of money for, for me. I wasn't supposed to be able to leave. I took out the thing he put in to control me."

76 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 5 years ago

Text

That Kid You Knew - Chapter 8

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕

Warning: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 3412

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary: You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him. When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 8

Tony straightened his tie as he looked in the mirror. His heart was racing even more than usual. There had been several occasions already today that he had been fairly certain he was going to go into full-blown cardiac arrest.

Today was the day. After months and months of planning, people losing their absolute fucking minds on the internet and not in the good way, booking venues and musicians and celebrants, ordering cakes, meeting with designers and planners, the paparazzi literally stalking the two of you at every turn, a bachelor party in Vegas that lasted a week, three days if which were still unaccounted for, he was marrying you.

The pale gray Armani suit was tailored to fit him exactly. It was two pieces and hugged his body without pulling tight anywhere. You’d left the color and style up to him, saying his designers new more than you did. There was one notable exception though. The magenta tie he wore that matched the orchid he wore in his lapel. Those were all you.

Your relationship hadn't been the standard; meet the woman, start dating, fall in love, get married, have kids thing that society had decided was the order you do things in. Tony didn't care. He didn't really consider himself a standard guy. Besides he has never expected to do any of those things anyway. If the universe had decided to send him the kid before the falling in love and finish up with the wedding, he could roll with that. It felt good to have it.

It had taken a lot of juggling and healing, but Tony was now comfortably a dad. Not only that, he was in love. That part he hadn’t expected at all. But here he was, about to stand under an arch of twinkling lights and flowers while he waited to see you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress. He was excited and terrified all at once.

“Dad, can you help me with this?”

Owen’s voice snapped him out of his daydream and he turned to look at his son. Owen was thirteen now. He’d had to teach him how to shave. Owen had laughed the whole time and asked him if he was sure he didn’t need a ruler if he wanted the same effect as Tony. He was prone to random bouts of sullenness and had an acid tongue, but all in all, he was a good kid. Tony was really proud of him. He still had moments that he’d wished he’d been there from the start, but there was still plenty of life experiences they would get to share.

Owen was fumbling with his tie. Tony stepped over to him and helped him fix the double Windsor knot that Owen was struggling with. He was wearing a two-piece in white but the tie was the same magenta as Tony’s. He was a skinny kid, but tall. He could already look Tony directly in the eye. “You look good, bud. How do I look?”

Owen smiled. “Yeah, dad. Mom’s going to love it.”

There was a knock at the door and Rhodey entered. “You two ready? The way you’re going she’s going to be out there before we are.”

Tony ran his hands along the shoulders of Owen’s jacket. “Yeah, I think so. Let’s do this.”

You stood, taking a few deep breaths as your bridesmaids and your stylist fussed around you. Your dress was a simple a-line with capped sleeves, in white lace and tulle. The skirt almost floated around you, and you knew it didn’t matter how much they tugged or pulled at it, it was going to fall exactly as you wanted it to.

Your stylist fixed the flowers into your hair. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get used to having a stylist even though you had used one for every red carpet and other official event Tony had dragged you along too.

She adjusts your breasts again, adding a little more tape. “You are completely spilling out of this dress.” She said.

You laughed. “Yeah. This low cut might have been a mistake in hindsight.” You agreed.

She laughed too and stood back, looking you over. “I’ll give your bridesmaids some tape just in case, but I’ll be around too.”

You smiled and thanked her before looking over at your dad. “How do I look?”

He returned the smile with such love it made your heart swell. “You look beautiful, darling. How do you feel?”

“A little queasy.” You said.

“That’s to be expected.” Your mother said. “You ready?”

You took your bouquet of white lilies and magenta orchids, nodded and your father offered you his elbow. He led you outside and down the boardwalk towards the beach. You were on a private island in the Bahamas that Tony had booked out completely. There was no risk of paparazzi, so you strolled, arm-in-arm with your dad, just worrying about the beating of your heart.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” Your dad said, patting your hand. “It would have been so easy for you to try and trap that boy into this. But instead, you decided to take the hard road because you thought it would protect Owen. I know because you’re now getting married that you think you made the wrong choice, but you did it for the right reasons. And you’ve done an amazing job raising him alone.”

Your tears threaten to break and you run your fingertips under your eyelashes to brush them away. “Thank you, dad.” You whispered.

He gave your hand a squeeze and kissed your cheek. The chairs set up on the sand come into view and all eyes turn to you. The guests are full of family and friends and some of Tony’s work acquaintances. A quartet of guitars start playing ‘Fluff’ by Black Sabbath and you started walking down the petal-strewn aisle formed between the rows of chairs on the sand.

Tony’s face lit up when he saw you, such a look of pure love etched on his features makes your heart swell. Beside him stood Owen who had the biggest smile on his face. Rhodey flanked Owen’s other side, smiling as you approached. By the time you made it to the wedding arch Tony’s eyes are glistening and you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him right away.

The celebrant cleared his throat and began.

“Welcome, family, friends and loved ones. We gather to this beautiful spot today to celebrate the wedding of these two people. You have all traveled a long way to share this formal commitment they make to one another after a long history between them, and to offer your love and support of the union. They wanted to share this day with those of you who are nearest and dearest to them.

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships. No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking and listening, helping and supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and by learning to make the important things matter, and to let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is to witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as lifemates and partners.”

Owen took center stage to do a reading next and he stood between the two of you nervously. Tony put his hand on Owen’s shoulder to reassure him, while you took his free hand.

“‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’

‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘ It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’

‘I suppose you are real?’ said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse only smiled.

‘Someone made me Real,’ he said. ‘That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.’” Owen read.

Owen moved back to his spot and the celebrant spoke again.

“We’ve come to the point of the ceremony where you’re going to say your vows to one another. But first, to do that, I ask you to remember that love - that is rooted in trust and acceptance - will be the foundation of an abiding and deepening relationship. No other ties are more tender. You do not take the vows today out of any religious or civic law, but out of a desire to love and be loved by another person fully, without limitation, then your life will have joy and the home you establish will be a place in which you will both find the direction of your growth, your freedom, and your responsibility.”

Tony took a deep breath and squeezed your hands. “I take you to be my wife, my constant friend and partner, and my love.

“I vow to honor and you and respect you for all that you are and will become, taking pride in who we are, both separately and together.

“I promise that I am going to challenge you every day. But that, I will also accept challenges from you.

“Our home will be a sanctuary and a respite for us and the people we love most.

“Above all, I give you my love freely and unconditionally. I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.” He said, his eyes glistening.

You smiled and swallowed lifting his hands to your mouth and kissing the back of them. “I take you to be my husband, my constant friend, and partner and my love.

“I will work to create a bond of honesty, respect and trust; one that withstands the tides of time and change, and grows along with us.

“I will join you and our community in an ongoing struggle to create a world we all want to live in, where love and friendship will be recognized and celebrated in their many forms.

“Above all, I will give you my love freely and unconditionally. I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.” You said.

“May I have the rings please?” The celebrant asked.

Owen fumbled to get them out of his pocket and his hand shook a little as he handed them over to each of you.

“Repeat after me: I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you.”

You and Tony both repeated the words as you slid the rings into place.

“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss each other!”

Tony wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, dipping you kissed deeply and everyone applauded.

After you did the legal paperwork and took photos you joined the rest of the guests at tables set up under lights a little further down the beach. Everything felt like a whirlwind. Dinner was served. The starters were set up on a grazing table. There were dips, crackers, and artisan bread, several kinds of cheese, olives, chargrilled vegetables, and sliced deli meats. As well as oysters, shrimp, arancini, pork belly, rice paper rolls, and other small finger foods to get everyone started. That was followed by a seated entree of either rack of lamb, herb potato gnocchi, ragu of chorizo, chickpeas, onion and capsicum and chimichurri, fillet of salmon, saffron potato, quinoa, barley, and white crab and avocado mousse, or pistachio-crusted tofu with a prickly pear sauce. All these dishes that you had spent so long carefully choosing to make sure everyone had something delicious they could eat you could barely even manage to taste because everyone wanted to talk to you, or see your ring or take your photo. Not to mention that queasy feeling never quite let up.

After dinner speeches were made, first your dad telling stories of you and Tony as kids and repeating how proud he is of you. Then your bridesmaid talking about the fate that led the two of you to be together now.

Then Owen got up. “He-hello.” He said, the nerves showing in the shake of his voice. “My name is Owen. I grew up with just my mom. She’s a really good mom, but I did always have a hope that one day I’d get to meet my dad. One day, by complete accident, I did. I didn’t expect he’d be Iron Man though. He started out by being a really good dad. Then he was a really good boyfriend to my mom. She is much happier and more chill with him around. So I’m sure he’ll be a really good husband too. I love you both so much. So cheers to my mom and dad.”

Everyone applauded and glasses were raised. Owen returned to his seat and you hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head while Tony wrapped his arms around the both of you.

Rhodey got up to speak next and he smirked at Tony. “Well, I bet none of you expected this to happen right?” He said, making everyone laugh. “I know I didn’t. I met Tony back in college. He was only 15 then, and already completely out of control. I remember thinking there was no way this kid was making it to thirty. The longer I knew him the more sure I was that would be the case. But he did. I also assumed he’d just continue being a playboy until he died. My very own Hugh Hefner. He’s been through a lot of changes though. He’s nearly died more times than I’d like to admit. He started to settle. To figure out who he is and what he wants with his life.

“I never really believed in fate, but there seemed to be something going on with the way these two people had their lives come together. If they hadn’t known each other as kids, they might not have had the little tryst that brought Owen here into the world. But the tryst had to happen while Tony was still his unsettled self. Owen had to be kept a secret though or they definitely wouldn’t have had a great relationship. They met back up at the time Tony had begun to settle which was the perfect time. He was able to step up to be the dad he needed to be. He was able to open his heart up to be the partner he needed to be.

“And now, here we are. At Tony Stark’s wedding. Not drunk at Vegas but planned ahead to this woman who he loves and who kept coming into his life at the perfect times. They were destined to be.” Rhodey turned and looked directly at you. “He is better with you. Happier. More at peace. All the things you might have put down as mistakes or chance, they were meant to happen. I’m glad he has you.” He turned back to the crowd. “So raise a glass to the happy couple.”

There was a cheer of the ‘happy couple and everyone sipped their drinks. Tony got up and hugged Rhodey before taking the microphone for himself.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all for traveling this far to be with us. I mean, I know I paid, so free private island holiday, but still, it really means the world to both of us.” He said, making your guests laugh. “I grew up not really knowing what it felt like to be part of a loving family. So instead I modeled myself after my father. I drank too hard and I worked too hard. But I told myself that I wouldn’t inflict myself on anyone else for too long because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

“It’s funny how life doesn’t really give a shit about your plans. Turns out while I was trying to stop myself from ever forming any bonds with anyone I was making a pretty serious bond with someone. So instead of doing things in the typical everyday order where you meet, fall in love, get married, have a kid. Or doing things the way I envisioned, just a new conquest every day. I did them in the way that worked for me. I had the kid. I fell in love. And now, I am married to the women I have a son with. I finally have the family I didn’t think existed for me. It’s funny how you can not know how badly you needed something until you finally have it.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of love. “People always ask me if I was mad when I found out she’d hidden Owen from me. The answer is; of course, I was. Who wouldn’t be? The next question I usually get is how could I forgive that? That question is easily answered if you’ve ever met her. She is the most kind, brave, intelligent, amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of kind, brave, intelligent and amazing people. A lot of you are here today. Falling in love with her was inevitable. It was like breathing. I am excited to call myself her husband. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her. So I’d like you all to raise your glasses for the crazy way life works and to my wife.”

He sat down as everyone toasted and you leaned in and kissed him deeply. Though your moment didn’t last long. You were called onto the floor for your first dance. The band started to play ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica and you and Tony start to move around the dance floor in the routine you’d been practicing for months now.

“You look beautiful, you know?” Tony said, gazing into your eyes.

“Thank you,” You said leaning in and brushing your lips over his just briefly. “Would you say I’m glowing?”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. You could actually see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Are you…?”

You smirked at him and he spun you. “Pregnant?” You finished as you span back into his arms. “That’s right.”

“Honey…” He said, a smile spreading over his face. “Oh my god.” He pulled you into a hard kiss, the music completely forgotten. You both just stand there kissing. His hand on your cheek, yours clinging to his back. The beach might as well be empty except for the two of you. His lips slowly caress yours until they begin to go numb. When he pulls back his eyes are glistening with tears.

You reach up and brush one escapee from his cheek. “You’re such a softie, Stark.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m really happy.” He said as you start to dance again.

You nuzzled into his neck. “You think we’ll ever get pregnant because we planned to?”

Tony started laughing. “Who knows. Like I said, life doesn’t care about plans. But whatever happens, I’m loving every minute of it.”

~ END ~

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #pregnancy #that kind you knew

272 notes · View notes

candyshua · 5 years ago

Text

It’s A Long Way Home | Chapter 1

Pairing: Joshua x Minghao x Reader

Synopsis: It was dark, and then it was light. You're finally lucid. After 15 years of not being conscious, you wake up in a desolate and post-apocalyptic earth where infected flesh-eating beings roam the streets. Soon enveloped into a mysterious group of survivors, you consistently wonder who they are. But most importantly, who are you?

Genre: Heavy angst, some fluff here and there

Warnings: Gore, bad language, physical & verbal abuse

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This is almost two years old, so it’s not amazing--but I really need to post a completed fic on here! Crossposted from AFF (my username on there is vernonie).

The first thing you can process is the overwhelming ache in your head. It's a high pressured pain, slightly blurring your hearing into a fuzzy calamity. Your eyes flutter open to a desolate planet, in the middle of a convenience store to be exact. Soon attacked by the blinding force of confusion, you wondered where you were. And then, the questions came flooding in at an alarming rate. You look down at your hands, and then your body. You were in a camouflage jacket, a pair of comfortable and stretchy jeans, along with combat boots. You had a plain black t-shirt on, and a necklace with various rings on it. You try to picture what you looked like in your head, until you realized that you couldn't.

You get up slowly, and stretch out your back for what feels like the first time in years. It rumbles with an unsettling crack, as you search the store for a mirror. You reasoned that the bathroom had a mirror, so you opened the door quietly, knowing that it was best to keep quiet. It was a small room, with a toilet that looked old and rusty, with walls covered in moss and vines. The floor was covered in dirt and dried up blood. The mirror was dirty, but you could still make out your reflection. Your face was plain, only your neck and face showing through the mess of clothes you bore. Your ears were hidden behind your shoulder length hair, your eyes innocent and wide. You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned toward the mirror more, trying to study every single feature you encapsulated.

Once you had a clear image of you in your head, you walked out of the bathroom as quietly as possible. Soon, your stomach rumbled with an unfamiliar emptiness in it. You felt the desire to consume something, which only further baffled you. Who were you? The question stumped you incredulously. You remembered absolutely nothing, except your name, age, sex, and how to think and speak. You knew how to act like a civilized human being, you knew how to speak and think in the English language, but any recollection of what your personality or past consisted of faltered.

Not knowing how to react, you merely look around the store for some food and water. You knew that other people should be around, and that you'd go and pay for your items after you've collected them. But, the lack of humans made that seem quite odd, so you took whatever food and water you could find, and stuffed it into grocery bags you found behind the counter. But then, you found a backpack behind the counter as well, with a water bottle in its pocket and fresh supplies stacked in it. It seemed very convenient, but you didn't think twice of it. You stuffed the food and water in whatever vacant slots there were in the bag, until your hand fell on something cold.

Your fingers clasped around the metal object, and you pulled it out only to look at a gun. You knew what a gun was, and what it could do, but how to use it completely stumped you. There were so many things you didn't know, which only frustrated you. You had no idea what to do or where to go, hell, you didn't know who you were. An anxious pit settled deep in your stomach, as you were coated in a thick worry. Soon, you saw a male human walking outside. He walked quite oddly, with a limp in each step. Your face lit up at the sign of another living thing. You put your backpack on (with your gun tucked in the bag, of course) and run outside. "Excuse me," You say, taking in the sound of your voice for what seemed like the first time, "can you help me?"

The creature turned around, and you were presented with a monster. Its flesh was rotting, rotten brown teeth uncovered by any form of lips. You soon thought of him as an it, while confusion only further kidnapped you from reality. It wore torn clothes, and its eyes were sunken, sullen in, and completely devoid of any color. The eyes were white, with little blood red lines at the edges. The thing started stumbling its way towards you, while you merely cocked your head to the side. Soon, it reached out at you and almost clawed your covered arm, until you backed away swiftly. You looked around for something to fight it with, but the city sidewalks and streets were lacking any form of protection. Now out of options, you decided to turn around and run. But then, you were faced with a pack of more of the flesh rotting species.

They were slow, and they walked oddly. Each step was a stumble, but their feet picked up pace when their eyes met yours. You knew that you couldn't take on 15 of these things, much less 1, so you bolted. You walked down the street of the city only to an intersection, making a left hand turn. You could hear a certain growl emit from the creatures, a throaty gargle which only chilled you to the bone. You needed to get out of the city, but to where? You didn't worry about that now. You just worried about leaving, perhaps hiding, so these creatures would no longer be a threat.

Your stamina surprised you, along with your speed. You knew what to do, but you never learned where to do it. Out of nowhere, you heard a scream. Gunshots soon rang out and reverberated through the city. You decided to follow the noise, feeling the instinct to help out the distressed. Soon, you were face to face with a group of humans, actual breathing humans, with guns and knives, fighting off these sick looking monsters. Yet, they were cornered, and the group of 7 (5 men and 2 women) fought the creatures relentlessly.

Suddenly, an urge overtook you. As if you were taught to do this, you ran up to one of those ugly gargling bastards and kicked its knee in, hearing a loud crunch when its bone broke. It fell to the ground, sliding on the road trying to reach you. You looked down, and then noticed you had a carrier around your waist, with a knife being held snugly in it.

You pulled the silver weapon out, and out of pure instinct, you stabbed the thing in the head. You then looked up to a pair of upturned brown eyes, and black hair that was tucked into a snug mullet. He was definitely a human. Yet, you got back up and fought off more of those creatures, relying purely on what your brain told you to do. You fought like an expert, you looked elegant while killing the monsters so speedily.

Each time you would stab their soft skulls, the punctured rotting flesh would overflow with ugly. brownish red blood. Your speed and intelligence sincerely outmatched those pathetic beings, but you did not know the root of your skills. Soon, the group joined you in killing the gargling things, until the crowd of them thinned out so they could escape. They started running, until the man you made eye contact with before looked behind at you, and uttered the words, "Come on!" So, you ran with them. And then you were stuffed in a large four row van, as a brown haired driver with soft doe eyes drove away, expertly maneuvering through the thickening crowd of monsters.

The first person to break the silence was a short and curvaceous woman, who eyed you suspiciously. "Who are you?" She asked, her eyes glaring at you intrusively.

"I'm Y/N." You said, surprised that you remembered your name. The word felt foreign on your tongue, like everything you said did. You felt like an alien, a pariah, and soon everybody in the van eyed you dangerously. "I am no threat, I promise." You continued, only speaking the truth. To be fair, you meant no harm to them.

"How do we know that? Where's your group?" Another woman piped up, who was taller and skinnier than the last one. She had remarkable green eyes, a small nose, and short, black hair. She was tan, and the woman folded her arms trying to be intimidating. You, however, did not feel an ounce of fear towards these humans.

"I-I don't have one. I don't know what happened, to be completely honest." You explained feebly.

"What do you mean by, 'what happened'?" The driver questioned, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You soon noticed you were out of the city, and driving much more slowly on the abandoned highway.

"As in, where the hell am I? I don't remember anything." You muttered, the confusion thick in your tone. The group looked to themselves exasperatedly, but the man with the mullet (who was tall and skinny, but his muscles were prominent) stared at you.

"Elaborate." Is all he said, and you didn't need to be told twice. He looked like the leader of these people, despite his young looking exterior.

"I woke up in a convenience store, and I swear on my life that I did not remember anything that happened. I had supplies, but I was relying on my instincts back there. Hell, I'm relying on them right now." You explained, the confusion you endured frustrating the hell out of you.

"That sounds like a load of bullshit." A tall man piped up. He had dark brown hair, and wide brown eyes. His nose was pointed, and his gaze was petrifying.

"Listen, I just saved your asses. Not only that, I am really fucking confused because I have no idea where I am! What the hell is this place?" You shouted, the man looking slightly taken aback.

"Then where'd you learn how to fight like that?" A different man asked. He looked young, and had brown shaggy hair. His innocent looking eyes bore right into yours, and although his question was threatening, his tone was soft.

"I have no fucking idea," You explained, "I have no clue what those things we just fought were, or where the hell all the people are. Could somebody help me out here?"

"Those things you just fought were the infected. They bite you, you're done for. You turn into one of them. This sickness broke out, and turned people into flesh eating monsters. About 95% of the population was wiped out. Got it?" The man who you presumed to be the leader explained.

"Can you just stop the car? Let me get out, and leave you alone now. Sorry for being a burden to you, but I do not plan on hurting any of you." You plead.

"No can do. We have no idea if you're lying or not, and if your group is coming to find you. So, we're going to wait a while and see." The driver rasped, and you bit your lip. You felt the urge to...cry? You wanted to cry because you were so angry and confused, and you didn't like or trust these people. Not even that, you just saved their lives!

Everybody looked at you, expecting you to scream or cry. Instead, you merely asked, "What are your guys' names, then?"

The skinny man with the mullet stated, "Minghao."

"Hansol." Said the soft boy with the soft eyes.

"Junhui." The tall, big eyed man who previously yelled at you mumbled.

"Cleo." The curvy woman pipped.

"Margo." The taller girl said.

"Joshua." The driver finally said, and you sighed, sinking into the seat of your car, fatigue finding its way to you.

"Get up." Minghao ordered, as your droopy eyelids ripped open to the cloudy day. You unbuckled your seat belt, and looked up to their "territory". It was a street in the suburbs, with a huge wall making the minuscule town submit to its large presence. Large watch towers where men and women with guns looked down at everybody, especially you, while they begrudgingly opened the gates.

They made you give them all of your weapons, coaxing you into submission. You hated that, especially around these folks whom you didn't trust. They led you to a garage of a rugged looking house, and merely shoved you into the cement room while you had time to yourself. You sighed profusely, running your fingers through your short hair. You tried desperately to remember something that happened to you before today, but nothing came to your avail. You were pissed beyond belief, and you wanted to cry, but you refused to let these people see you shed a tear.

As you spent more time by yourself, you got to know who you were. You were a stubborn, strong woman. You knew you were twenty, but that was about it. Soon, the door of the garage opened. You came face to face with Minghao, and you rolled your eyes without even thinking. Expecting to get yelled at, you hear a light scoff from his end. You furrow an eyebrow suspiciously, as he notions for you to go and sit. While walking over, he attempts to trip you and pin you down, but you respond instantaneously and swing your arm towards his face, finding your balance. He dodges you quickly, and a smug smile soon appears on his face. "I knew you could fight." He playfully plighted, which resulted in you crossing your arms and rolling your eyes again.

"I believe you." He said, observing that you weren't in the mood to play around. Soon, your face lit up. He bit his lip, sustaining a smile that wanted to creep onto his face.

"Really?" You asked exasperatedly, a look of relief settling on your face.

"No. I just wanted to see the look on your face when I said that. But, it was less devilish than I expected." He explained, which resulted in you throwing your head back in frustration.

"Oh my fucking god." You whispered to yourself, and Minghao couldn't contain his laughter. You glared at him heavily, and his smile soon halted.

"Sorry, there isn't much comedy these days. I'm here to just interview you, get to know you, and see where you could help in our little community." Minghao explained, and you just shut your eyes in pure frustration and confusion. But then, something flashed in your mind, something you've never seen before. And then, you were on the floor hyperventilating, holding your head which echoed with furious pain, as something came to your head. A powerful image.

A memory.

52 notes · View notes

kyle-writes · 5 years ago

Text

The Neighborhood: Part 2

The ichor reflected my light like snake scales shining in the sun, it looked rubbery and sticky, but when I knelt to poke the nearest chunk with my finger it gave way like a kind of light cream substance. Foamy. It didn’t even stick to my nail, dripping off in thick drops that congealed instantly after coming in contact with its lump.

“We’re extending the scene from the Larsons’ to encompass this area too,” Al said as he came up behind me. “Did you…? Milly, you really oughta get some gloves before you go muck-diving.”

I stood up, shaking my hand off instinctively, “Right, right. Get your light out, we’re going down there. Don’t slip on the shit.”

There were over a dozen creaking, unsteady stairs to go down, and with each step the darkness seemed to press down on us harder. As we reached the bottom I could hear officers and technicians setting things up above me. Al’s light flashed past me and to the left, deeper into the basement.

“Holy shit,” I heard him say under his breath, there was a mixture of fear and awe in his voice.

I followed his light with my own as we both hit the bottom and I instantly understood how he felt. The walls were absolutely coated in the black ichor while the floor was almost untouched with the stuff. It was as if there had been an explosion. From the center of the floor a spider’s web of cracks worked their way outwards to the walls, and there was something else too. Something in the center of the web.

Al found the light switch and with a soft click the entire room was finally lit up. We gasped in tandem. The thing in the center of the room…was the top of someone’s head. Their eyes were bugged out and blood red, and it was tilted back just enough to be able to see the top arch of their screaming mouth. Teeth were missing, and the dark hair was matted with a mixture of blood and the black substance.

“Oh Christ,” I heard Al dry heaving behind me. I didn’t blame him for it, I was barely holding it together myself. “T-That’s Mrs. O’Neil. Rhonda O’Neil.”

“Or what’s left of her.” I said. It came out harsher than I meant it to, but that’s how I was when I got uncomfortable. My heart felt like it was going to explode, it was all I could hear. Over my years in the homicide department I had seen plenty of bad things, nasty things. I’d had to learn very quickly that people, at their core, could be absolutely horrific to one another. It looked as if Mrs. O’Neil had been buried up to her mouth in concrete, but of course that was physically impossible. The terror on what I could see of her face told a tale of intense pain.

Our heads turned with a shot as someone appeared at the top of the stairs. Gil.

“You’re both white as sheets, what’s going on?” He began to descend.

“Stop.” I barked, and his eyes went wide as he froze between steps. “You’re going to need to bring some excavating equipment down here with you.”

I wish I hadn’t been there when they “extracted” what was left of Rhonda O’Neil from the floor, but I was. It was my job to be. I imagine Gil was used to that kind of carnage, all I knew is that I didn’t want to be. It was all clinical to him.

First it was discovered that Mrs. O’Neil was not really entombed within the concrete. It was just the top half of her head, which Gil peeled away from the floor with a sickening wet sound that threatened to kill my appetite for the rest of my life. Several of her remaining teeth fell from her mouth as Gil carefully brought the top half of the victim’s head up to get a closer look at. Thin strands of the black substance oozed down onto the floor into little puddles, which broke off into tiny streams that flowed down and away into the cracks in the concrete.

One of Gil’s boys was holding something that looked almost like a radar gun used by officers out hunting speeders, but it was some new technology that could analyze contents of certain substances on the spot without having to disturb evidence. XRF-something or other.

The man looked to be about half Gil’s age, lacking many of the age lines and overall grey-ness the job brought along with it. “Sir, I can’t get a reading on this black stuff. The analyzer just keeps giving me error messages.”

Gil made a “hrmmph” noise, which the tech apparently understood to mean Gil had heard him.

“I still want to get the imager in here and see if we can find anything beneath the floor before we go randomly tearing it up,” Gil said, carefully bagging the remains of Mrs. O’Neil’s head.

“So does that mean we can get the fuck out of here now?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my desire to escape.

Gil pulled the dirtied latex gloves from his hands and used his index finger to push his glasses up his nose. “Yeah, we can take it from here. I imagine you’ve got a lot of questions for the gathering mob outside.”

With Al at my heels, I got out of the house as fast as I could trying to look like that wasn’t what I was trying to do. The fresh, damp air of the approaching evening was heaven on my face and to my lungs. The canopy of clouds had grown darker and denser, signs of an oncoming storm. Normally I would enjoy this brief twilight combination of weather and time of day, but any hopes for having a pleasant day, or even month, were long gone.

Gil was right, the crowd was still thick with murmuring civilians, and more than a few had their phones out recording everything we were doing. And the news vans were back. I frowned. Someone had leaked our newest discovery already, but at least Chief Albrecht was on the scene now---he could handle the media. It was his forte.

Without a word, I pushed under the tape and through the crowd, ignoring all questions thrown at me. I didn’t see Al peel away, but I was glad to be able to take a moment for myself. I stopped at the curb and leaned against one of the dozens of patrol cars that had taken up residence on Washington Street. It wasn’t quite dark enough for the streetlights to come on yet so I could still see up and down the neighborhood without much trouble.

Washington was one of the bigger neighborhoods in the city, located on the outskirts right at the border of the city limits. Still relatively new, it had that classic middle-class feel. All in all there were forty or so houses all the way up and down. Each painted a shade of off-white, with black tile roofs. There were trees planted in the front and back yards of at least half of them, and those backyards boxed in by privacy fences. The whole thing had been a goldmine for the city, built on a large chunk of land that had been hoarded by a single, wealthy family until the final old man had died two decades ago with no living heir. I’m sure the city was more than willing to pick up the “discarded” property. This all happened when I will still a baby rookie in the academy, so I don’t know all that much else about it.

Suddenly my phone began to vibrate in my pocket, startling me out of my fatigued reverie. This time I actually looked at the name of the caller before picking up. It was my wife.

“Hey, babe,” I started.

But she jumped in right away, “Milly, is everything okay? That…thing going on with Washington Street is all over the news and---,” she was in her worried-mode. Even with all my time on the force, her apprehension and anxiety concerning my safety hadn’t waned one bit.

I told her once, at the beginning, that I would never lie to her. So I didn’t. “It’s only getting worse,” I said in a low tone, and I heard her sigh softly. No doubt she was also seconds away from going back to chewing on her fingernails. “I’ll be home late tonight, probably around midnight or so. Get the kid in bed and don’t worry about me, okay?” Silence. “Lexi?”

Another sigh, this one louder and a bit more annoyed. That was assuring. “Okay, okay. Just…be careful.”

I chuckled, “I will, I promise. I always am.” Somewhere in the distance came the distinct rumble of approaching thunder. “Well, shit. Maybe I’ll be able to get out of it early…”

“I hope so,” Lexi said.

“Is that Mom on the phone?” came a tiny voice. “Tell her I said ‘I love you’!”

Lexi laughed and I felt the weight on my chest lighten just the tiniest of bits.

“Love you too, kiddo.” I said, and I heard Lexi repeat it.

She said something else, but my attention had been ripped away in a fraction of a second by a man suddenly walking by me and heading towards a house that I hadn’t really been paying attention to until that very moment. The front lawn of this house looked as if it hadn’t been mowed in weeks, weeds and dandelions grew tall and unchecked, along with a handful of small white mushrooms. The man approached a lawnmower that had been sitting in the middle of the lawn and dragged it down one house and put it in the garage.

My gut squirmed again and I felt my throat tighten. “I gotta go, babe.” I said into the phone.

Lexi recognized my tone right away, God bless her. “Alright, honey, be careful.”

Small drops of rain began to fall around me as I shoved my phone back into my pocket and approached the neighbor of the house with the neglected lawn. The closer I got to that house, the worse it looked. The paint looked worn and chipped, and the roof was missing several tiles. I counted and it was only five houses down from the Larson place. How did I not notice it before? Had any of us noticed it? I tried to catch a glance inside but the windows were so dirty I couldn’t see inside the pitch dark.

I came onto the neighbor’s driveway just as he was pushing the mower into the little area between boxes that had been carved out for it. “Hey, excuse me…,” the man jumped at my voice.

“O-Oh! You’re one of the detectives here about…,” thunder interrupted him, and suddenly the sky opened up and rain began to pour down in a thick, grey curtain. He motioned for me to step into the garage with him, which I was more than happy to do.

“What can you tell me about your neighbors there,” I pointed to the dilapidated house.

The man, who was frighteningly skinny and pale a sheet wrung his hands together, thin tongue flicking out across dried lips. “Ah, you see, Ma’am…” He swallowed hard, and I could see his Adam’s apple twitch. “Guy who lives there’s a shut-in, haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in the last five years, ever since his wife died.”

I pulled my small notepad from my jacket’s inner pocket, along with the fancy ink pen Lexi got me for my birthday last year. The wind howled outside and leaves danced along the street. “Tell me all about him.”

#my writing #original content #horror #weird

4 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 6 years ago

Text

Male drider x male naga (nsfw)

This is a commission for someone who asked me to hold off posting it til today because it’s their birthday. So, happy birthday! I hope you like this. I really enjoyed working with these two characters of yours, and I’m totally in love with Ambrose...

Contents: one naga with some colourful language, one shy and arachnophobic drider boy, some thievery, some fluff, and some smut. Length: 4847 words

___________________________

Aiden cursed as he ducked and wove through the dense pine trees as evening pressed on relentlessly into night and the baying of the hounds and shouting of guards faded behind him.

It had all been going so well until the duchess had returned early to her chambers and caught him red-handed with his sharp, taloned claws in her safe. She’d shrieked half the castle down, screaming about thieving snakes, leaving the naga no choice but to hurl himself out of the window and take a long dive into the freezing, filthy moat surrounding her castle. At least he still had her jewels in his satchel. He grinned wickedly to himself, canines flashing in the dying light of the day.

Honestly, he was exhausted.

His python-like lower half was built for stealth rather than for prolonged speed, and his muscles were screaming at him to stop. The warmth had faded from the day, and the cold-blooded naga was starting to feel the chill as his muscles tightened and began to burn. His underside bore scratches and scrapes from his long flight, first through the remote castle’s extensive grounds, and then out into the wilder woods beyond. Sharp rocks had scored along his thick, red-scaled hide, leaving him bruised and a bit bloody, and he ached all over.

Thirsty, weak, and with nowhere left to go, he eventually slowed his pace, breathing hard, and came to a halt in a quiet glade amid tall, silent pine trees. The wind hissed in the needled canopy above, but down here between the sentinel trunks, nothing moved. The baying of the duke’s hounds had long since faded into nothing, and as he swept his spiky, dark red hair back out of his eyes, he went utterly still, straining to hear any sounds at all. His head swam and his vision went double for a moment. He’d not eaten in days and while that wasn’t normally an issue for a naga, it was going to be problem for him soon after expending so much energy on escaping.

Lightheaded, weak, and shaky, he swayed on the spot.

Something darker than the surrounding shadows moved in the trees up ahead, and he swore softly, trying to get his eyes to focus.

He ground his teeth and drew his body up tall, hoping to look menacing, but the extra effort sapped the last vestiges of strength from him and before he knew what was happening, he had pitched forwards and was lying face down in the carpet of old pine needles. Woozy, on the edge of consciousness, he watched as the dusk-dark body of a drider emerged hesitantly from the trees. He couldn't see enough to make out any features, but the blue-black of the delicate limbs that speared down silently into the forest floor was enough to tell him it was a drider.

“Shit,” he hissed and his eyes rolled shut as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion.

When he next stirred, he was chilled and sluggish, and lying in the dark somewhere. Warmth; he needed to get warm. And where the hell was he? The last thing he recalled was the approach of a drider. He realised with a jolt of fear that he should be wrapped up in webbing, stored for some future meal, if even half of what was said about driders was true. But he was free, if sluggish and sore.

He blinked and tried to push himself upright on shaking arms, his cold muscles reluctant to obey him, and as he shifted, something squeaked at the back of whatever dank cave he was in. A rat?

Still fighting the lingering grogginess, he lifted his head and saw a drider shoot backwards, stumbling over its tangle of spindly limbs, only to sit down heavily and stare at him with wide, panicked, dark eyes. The drider looked young, but into his adult years, and his dark, messy, almost violet-purple hair fell into his eyes as he panted, clearly terrified, and stared at the naga. The skin of his human half was bear and almost pure white, in stark contrast to his dark spider’s body, and his torso was rather scrawny, skinny, and a little pathetic, but flawless as carved marble.

“Hello,” the drider croaked awkwardly. “You’re awake. You startled me.”

“No shit,” Aiden grunted. “Where the hell am I? And who are you?”

“My… My name is Ambrose,” he faltered, following it up with a frankly adorable smile, and Aiden was pleasantly surprised by the little dimples that formed in his cheeks at the gesture. “You’re… You’re in my -” he broke off with a screech and shot sideways, limbs scrabbling on the stony floor as he stared at the floor beside him.

“What the fuck?” Aiden muttered as he watched the drider panic at apparently nothing. “What is wrong with you?”

“Spider,” the drider whimpered pathetically, pointing a slender finger at the spot where he’d been sitting in a mess of dark limbs only a moment before.

Aiden found laughter bubbling up inside him and he roared with amusement, the whole cave echoing with the sound of it. “You’re shitting me!” he wheezed. “Oh that’s fucking precious! A drider that’s afraid of spiders!” He laughed until his sides hurt and his eyes watered, but when he eventually got himself together, he wiped the tears from his eyes and crooned in a patronising baby-voice, “You want me to put it outside for you?”

“Yes please…” the drider mumbled miserably, not meeting Aiden’s gaze.

Aiden snorted, still chuckling to himself, and scooped the tiny black spider up and chucked it out into the forest, feeling the drag of his cold tail and the ache of his muscles. He grunted and winced, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the cave. “So, this dump is your home then?”

Ambrose’s cheeks flushed scarlet, and he nodded. “Yes. It’s… It’s not much. And thank you for putting the spider outside,” he said. “Normally I just wait over here until they’ve gone away…”

“You have to be the worst spider boy ever,” he snickered, ignoring the way Ambrose’s face crumpled dejectedly.

The drider levered himself up off the ground, arranging his stick-like legs underneath him and, to Aiden’s surprise, the naga realised he was really quite tall. His legs were thin and fragile looking, and his pendulous, midnight black body was covered in silky-soft hair. The tactile naga was almost overwhelmed by the desire to touch it, and drew himself back before he could give in to the unexpected urge.

“Well,” Aiden said, “I don’t suppose you’ve got a fire pit in this hovel, have you? I’m fucking frozen, and I stink from my impromptu swim in that foul bitch’s moat. I need a bath, and I need to warm the fuck up.”

Ambrose looked frankly horrified at the naga’s crass language, and Aiden reminded himself to rein it in a bit. No need to offend the person who’d been kind enough to pick him up and bring him here. He mused on that for a while and then asked, “Hang on a second… How the fuck did you get me in here? You look like one stiff breeze would send you spinning away like a tumbleweed!” He laughed at the image of the poor little drider cartwheeling away on the wind, only to find Ambrose looking hurt and embarrassed. “Ah, shit,” the naga added. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ambrose mumbled. “I’m stronger than I look though. I dragged you here. I made a litter out of web and pulled it like a sled. You’re heavy, but I managed alright.” He tucked a stray strand of his inky hair behind his delicate ear and added, “There’s a stream just a few hundred yards that way, if you wanted to wash. I’ll start a fire for you.”

Something about the quiet sadness in his voice made Aiden pause. He looked at the miserable looking drider and asked, “You live out here alone?”

He nodded mutely and turned away.

With a sigh, Aiden slithered painfully out of the cave and found the stream. It was freezing, but it washed off the muck from the moat, and with every icy wave that bit into his skin, he promised himself he’d be warming up beside a toasty fire before too long.

Aiden hauled himself back up the steep bank, panting and groaning, his head aching and his vision blurred from exhaustion and lack of food. He let out a string of vile curses when he had to force himself to stop and take a breather. “Damned, fucking cold-blooded snake,” he swore, cranking his tail up the last bit of the incline and beginning his slow drag back to the cave.

When he got there, he found that Ambrose was heating a pot of something over a now-roaring fire, and it smelled amazing. “What’s cooking?” he asked, nearly adding ‘good looking’ for good measure afterwards, but he decided against it.

“Rabbit stew,” he said. “I made it this morning. It’s good to be reheated once more though. Is that alright?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grinned, and Ambrose gave him a very shy little smile in return. Something about it made Aiden’s stomach flip over and he crushed the sensation immediately. It wouldn’t do to go falling for some cute little spider boy when he was out in the middle of nowhere and still had to turn his thieved goods into his guild’s boss.

The two shared their meal in relative silence, but Aiden couldn’t help noticing the way Ambrose always made sure he had enough, and how the drider watched him eat and then glanced away whenever he caught him staring.

“You really don’t get out much, do you?” he asked boldly when it happened for the third or fourth time. “How many other people have you seen lately?”

Tears formed suddenly in Ambrose’s eyes and he looked away. Guilt lanced through Aiden, and he lowered his empty bowl, setting it down on the ground.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be…” He broke off and turned away. “I know I can be a real dick sometimes. Maybe it comes from having two of them…” he interjected, and then cursed himself for saying something so crude. “Anyway, look, I just meant… you seem nice. You don’t deserve to be shut away up here in the mountains, living alone in a cave full of spiders that you’re absolutely terrified of.” He couldn't help the little giggle at the memory of Ambrose tripping over himself in his terror at the little spider, but his mirth was short-lived.

“I have nowhere else to go,” Ambrose said in a tiny voice.

The way he said it made something in Aiden’s chest crack. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “I’m scared to go out alone. So many people hate my kind. I’m scary to them, but really… I’m… I’m the one who’s afraid.”

“Come with me,” Aiden said before he’d even thought about what he was going to say. The sudden statement shocked him; Aiden was not known for random acts of kindness.

“Where? Where will you go? I saw what was in that bag,” he said, pointing to the satchel with the stolen diamond tiara and necklaces. “You’re a thief and a criminal. What kind of life are you trying to offer me?”

Aiden hissed out a sigh. “You’re right. But I mean… spider silk is really good for healing, and you could maybe work at a healers nearby if… you know… ah shit, what am I saying? I don’t know.” He scratched his head, feeling the rake of his sharp claws over his scalp. “You don’t even know me.” He sighed. “Forget I said anything.”

Ambrose looked at him steadily across the dancing flames of the fire pit. The light reflected in his big, dark eyes, and Aiden felt that strange coiling in his gut again that had nothing to do with the excellent food that the drider had prepared for him. He was strangely beautiful, in his skinny, slightly creepy looking way, but it was easy to see how some folk might be unnerved by the sight of him.

The warmth from the fire began to make his head nod and a drowsiness washed over him as he coiled himself up tightly beside the fire pit a few minutes later.

“You should rest,” Ambrose murmured quietly, coming over and stooping gracefully to pick up the wooden bowl that Aiden had abandoned beside him.

“Thankssssssss…” he hissed, forgetting not to lisp as his body tipped towards sleep before he could stop it. He must have been more exhausted than he’d realised as he slurred, “That wassssss reallygood.”

“I’m glad,” Ambrose said in a soft voice. “Do you want a blanket?”

“Mmm,” was all Aiden could get out before he slipped into sleep.

Inhaling deeply, he stirred and felt the warm weight of a huge woollen blanket over him, and he looked up to see Ambrose on the other side of the cave, curled with his legs stowed neatly beneath him on a wide hammock of web. The thought struck Aiden that he looked oddly sweet like that, and he smiled.

The gentle vibrations caused by the naga waking and stretching must have reached the slumbering drider because he twitched awake with a yelp of distress and scuttled back into the deepest corner of the cave, eyes wide and fearful and unfocused.

“Hey, it’s just me, dumbass,” Aiden chortled. “Remember, the criminal snake you adopted yesterday?”

Ambrose surprised him by beaming a wide smile at him that stopped his slow-beating heart for a few seconds and stalled his brain. Gods above; he was beautiful.

“What?” the drider asked. “Do I have drool on my face? Have I leaked webbing or something?”

“Is that like pissing yourself?” he snorted, shattering whatever moment had hung pendulously between them.

“No,” Ambrose replied, blushing prettily. “It’s still embarrassing though.”

When he looked around and saw that in fact everything was as it should be, with no drool or webbing out of place, he sighed and stretched. Aiden tried not to watch too closely as his torso flexed, but he found that he had to turn away all the same.

Ambrose went lax with a grunt and looked over at Aiden with his big dark eyes gleaming softly. “How are you feeling today?”

“Stiff, tired, achy…” Aiden complained. “But mostly alright, I guess.”

Ambrose’s previously relaxed posture tightened and he looked suddenly as though he were staving off tears.

Aiden moved closer, his smooth, hard scales barely whispering on the cold rock of Ambrose’ dank little home. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, trying to hide his emotions behind a wavering little smile. “Nothing…”

Aiden cocked an eyebrow, and Ambrose caved.

“Fine,” the drider sniffed, turning away, legs moving like a clockwork automaton.

Not having legs himself, Aiden would have been lying if he had said that he didn't also find Ambrose’ eight, slender legs fascinating. Forcing himself to concentrate, he shifted a little closer to the drider, who paused when he sensed him getting near, and drew in another long breath before speaking.

“I suppose… I mean… it’s kind of lonely up here in the forest…”

“But this cave is full of spiders to keep you company,” Aiden jested, and Ambrose suppressed a shudder. “Ok, seriously though, if you hate it so much, why do you live here? There’s a town not fifty miles away, and for someone with legs like yours, that wouldn’t be a taxing journey… I don’t get the whole hermit act… Give people a chance… Trust me, there are way scarier looking beasties out there than you. You’re positively angelic in comparison to some of the folk in my guild, let me tell you…”

Ambrose looked over his slender shoulder at Aiden and gave a sad little smile. “You’re the first person who’s ever seen me and not run screaming.”

Aiden’s heart cracked at that. “What?” he breathed. “You’re shitting me! But… But you’re -” he cut off quickly before he embarrassed himself.

“I’m a drider, that’s what!” Ambrose said hotly, drawing himself up tall, and for the first time, Aiden saw him as perhaps others did: more than a little ‘otherworldly’, with his big dark eyes and ghostly pale skin, his long limbs and his rounded, downy arachnid body. “People hate driders. They think we’re creepy or scary, or that we eat their children, or wrap them up in web for later and suck them dry…”

“You don’t?” Aiden snorted. “Damn, I quite liked the idea of being able to say I’d survived a few nights with a monster…”

The hurt on Ambrose’ face cut Aiden to the quick once again.

“Ah, shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I always run my mouth when I get uncomfortable.”

“See? I make even you uncomfortable!” he said, huge, crystal tears rolling down his pale cheeks. “And you’re a criminal and a thief!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed defensively. “Just because I nick stuff for a living, doesn’t mean I hang around with creeps… Ok, maybe I do, but they’re alright. My crew is alright. We don’t steal from people who don’t deserve it, you know?”

He darted back to where his satchel still lay on the rock and scooped it up, drawing out the sparkling gems.

“The bitch who owned these has a whole vault beneath the castle. She just kept these ones in her room because they were her favourite. She also keeps a tiefling on a leash as some kind of sick pet, and she’s got a centaur whose coat she dyes baby pink and has her paraded around for her amusement. Trust me, I’ve seen monsters, and you, my friend, are not one.”

Ambrose was still crying silently, but he lowered his dark spider’s body close to the floor, legs moving seamlessly like the dwarven and goblin lifting mechanisms at the docks. “I guess I don’t want you to go yet,” he said in a small voice.

“Who said I was going anywhere?” he grinned, wondering what he was getting himself into. This wasn’t like him. Had Ambrose been anyone else, he’d have left him in the dust a long time ago, but there was something about his curious innocence, and the way he had instinctively helped the weakened naga, despite his obvious wariness of others…

Ambrose perked up visibly at that. “You… You mean you want to stay?”

“Maybe for a few more days,” he shrugged, putting the jewellery back in the sack. “Just until I feel myself again, you know?”

“This isn’t you at your best?” Ambrose joked, and he was met with an answering grin from Aiden.

“Ho boy,” Aiden beamed at him, sharp canines showing. “I’m unstoppable when I’m on top form. Just you wait.”

The exchange seemed to have cheered Ambrose up, but when Aiden asked the drider if he fancied showing him around the surrounding forest, Ambrose shrank away again, shaking his head. “I can’t,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I… I don’t go out much.”

Well, that much was actually obvious to the naga, but still… “Just a few yards from the cave?” he said. “I’m cold and I could use some sunshine on my scales, you know?” he said, flicking his red hair playfully. It was enough to draw a little smile from Ambrose, and he agreed to accompany Aiden to the mouth of the cave, and then just a bit further.

Aiden found himself drawing the drider out more and more, both literally, and metaphorically as they laughed together over meals, or, more accurately, as Aiden scandalised him with tales of his thieving crew’s antics and escapades. However, after another four days, Aiden was certain of two things. The first was that he had stayed too long and his crew would be wondering if he’d just run off with the profits of the heist, and the second was that he was falling for this sweet, intelligent, shy, under-socialised drider faster and harder than he ever would have thought possible.

“Come with me,” he murmured, on the evening when he had decided to announce that he absolutely had to return the next day.

The two were lying beside the fire, Ambrose with all his legs tucked up adorably beneath him so that he looked like a little black cat with its paws scrunched in close to its body. He was also leaning his upper body against Aiden’s, who was coiled around Ambrose’ entire form. He was just long enough to be able to encircle him completely, the very tip of his tail just coming to rest in front of Ambrose’ spider body. Occasionally, the dark tip of his tail would twitch involuntarily, and Ambrose’ eyes would always dart down to look at it, and he would twitch his pretty lips into a little smile every time. Naturally, Aiden did it deliberately sometimes, just to watch his new friend’s reaction.

“I can’t,” Ambrose whispered hoarsely.

“Do you want to?” Aiden asked. “I mean, don’t you want to see the world? Do you really want to live out your whole life in this one cave full of spiders which you’re terrified of? How long do driders even live anyway…?”

His face crumpled. “We can live a long time,” he mumbled. “And no. Of course I don’t want to stay here alone forever.”

Aiden reached his hand out and ran the back of his fingers up the smooth, slightly fuzzy surface of the leg nearest to him. Ambrose shuddered violently and let out a gasp of shock, eyes rolling closed. When Aiden repeated the gesture, a moan spilled from Ambrose’ lips, and it was the most seductive and delicious sound that Aiden had ever heard anyone make.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Ambrose, you… the sound you just made…”

“I’m sorry,” he panted, pink flushing his skin from collarbones all the way up to his ears. “That… That felt so good.”

“Has anyone ever touched you?”

Ambrose shook his head, his messy hair tumbling into his heavily lidded eyes.

The naga went very still and removed his fingers from the incredibly soft velvet at the ‘hip’ of Ambrose’ spider leg, where it joined his spider body. “Would you let me?” Aiden asked. “Would you let me make you feel good?”

Ambrose licked his lips and opened his glittering eyes. His pupils were huge in the dark, and he nodded slowly. “Please…”

“You want me to make you feel good?” Aiden asked again. “How far do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” he said. His pulse beat rapidly at his throat, but he looked determined. “Will you stop if I ask you to?”

“Of course,” he said, and he couldn’t resist adding, “I know I’ve got two of them, but I’m not that much of a dick…”

Ambrose snorted, his lips hitching up on one side. “I barely have one, so…”

It was Aiden’s turn to be confused, and Ambrose’s turn to laugh.

Ambrose blushed and giggled his way through a rapid-fire lesson in drider anatomy, and Aiden was suddenly very interested. “Male driders don’t really have a… you know… I mean we do, but it only really comes all the way out when it’s mating season. Mostly it just stays inside. Even if… you know…”

“So wait, you’ve got a slit, or what?” he asked. “I mean, some male naga have both, so I’m cool with whatever you’ve got going on down there… but that’s… that’s kinda hot, you know?”

Ambrose’s answering blush was so pretty that Aiden felt his cocks stirring already, and the heat must have shown in his gaze because Ambrose’ blush only deepened when he realised. “You think…? I mean… You’re… You’re turned on by me?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Very much so.”

“And it’s not just curiosity?”

He shook his head. “Part of it is - I do like the idea of something new - but mostly it’s just you. You’re sweet and bashful, and you deserve to be praised and told how beautiful you are. I want to give that to you.”

A single tear rolled down Ambrose’s cheek. “Alright,” he said. “How… How do you want to do this?”

A little while later, Ambrose was on his back, and Aiden was trailing his claws down his incredibly soft and wildly sensitive underbelly. Ambrose jerked and twitched and bucked, crying out and biting the back of his hand as Aiden worked him all over, just getting him used to the sensation of being touched and, quite honestly, worshipped. Aiden noticed almost immediately that Ambrose was getting wet in a very particular place on his lower body, and when he ran his fingertips over it, he discovered a slit that was slick and warm and wet.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked huskily.

Ambrose whimpered and nodded his assent. “Wait,” he gasped, and the naga halted. “Are you poisonous?” His words were slurred and weak, but he cracked one dark eye open and tried unsuccessfully to focus on Aiden through the pleasure of the touches he was still receiving from Aiden’s fingertips.

The naga snorted, amused. “ ‘Venomous’ is the term you’re looking for, and no. No juice in these,” he said, flashing his canines. “Some of us are, but I’m not. Don’t worry.”

And with that, Aiden leaned his weight against the curve of Ambrose’ body and cautiously lowered his mouth to taste him. Aiden’s long tongue lapped at him, finding him slightly sweet and a little salty, and he soon discovered Ambrose’s cock seated deep inside him. As he worked his tongue repeatedly along the length of it, sometimes managing to curl the long muscle almost all the way around Ambrose’s hidden cock, he felt the walls of the slit pulse almost rhythmically, and he knew that it would feel incredible to be inside him.

When Aiden paused and voiced this aloud, Ambrose, who was quickly becoming a whining, mewling mess of limbs and heaving body, groaned, “Yes! Please…”

Aiden looked down the length of his own, scarlet red body, and bit his lip. Not only was the larger of his two cocks fully erect and weeping profusely, but the second, which usually only became fully erect during the naga’s heats, was also hard and slick. “Well, well,” he said. “Look what the sight of you like this has done to me,” he chuckled.

Ambrose managed to open his eyes with a flutter of long, dark lashes, and he smiled. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “I want you…”

Aiden shifted, coiling himself up so that he could slide easily into the slick heat of Ambrose’ sheath. The moment their cocks touched, he felt a jolt run right through him, and he gasped, clinging to Ambrose’ body. “Fuck,” he snarled. “Fuck, you’re perfect…”

Ambrose was beyond words at the sensations coursing through him.

“I’ve never felt so full,” he managed to gasp a few minutes later after Aiden had begun to rock back and forth inside him. “I… I don’t think I’m… I’m going to…” he panted, his body convulsing and shaking with over stimulation beneath Aiden. “I -” and with a rush of heat beneath Aiden, the drider came.

Spurts of thick, hot come pulsed around Aiden’s two cocks, and the naga lost his rhythm and his control, coming with a gasp a second after Ambrose.

Ambrose’ uninhibited yell of pleasure echoed off the walls of his home as he came, his body twitching and rocking with pleasure, while Aiden rammed his eyes shut, cocks buried inside him, and ground his teeth, gasping at the intensity of it. He had never come like this.

It took a while for both of them to come back to their senses, and when they did, Aiden laughed nervously and slid free of Ambrose. “You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.

Ambrose nodded and tightened his skinny torso, abs clenching as he looked down his body to where his lower half was frankly a mess. “I think I might need to bathe tonight,” he said. Then, with a wicked glint in his eyes that Aiden would never have suspected from him, he added, “Unless you want to go again?”

“What have I unleashed?” he laughed.

In fact, they did go again, twice more, before the dawn.

As they were both tired and spent, washing clean in the freezing stream, Ambrose said quietly, “I think I will come with you.”

“What, you only want me for the sex now?” Aiden joked.

Ambrose remained serious as he said, “No. I was thinking about it before. If you promise that you will help me… I’d like to come with you. I’d like to see something of the world.”

Aiden was not expecting his heart to react in the way it did, but he flashed Ambrose a wide grin. “Great,” he said. “I promise. You’re going to love it. I just know it.”

___________________________

#mlm #exophilia #naga #drider #arachnid #spider monster #monster x monster #male monster #writing commission

180 notes · View notes

taocastleprincess · 6 years ago

Text

inktober for writers // day 4 // spell

He only goes hunting at night. Jay has lived in the row houses across the street from DeLereon College since before they were even row houses, when they were just unconnected frat houses that had the entire block smelling like cheap beer and bad weed. It was such a long while ago that Jay really had no business still being in such close corners with college kids anymore. He had a career, a 401k, his mom just started hounding him about “settling down.” He discreetly pulled back the curtain of his front window and watched the college freshmen pour out of the school’s side gate, dressed in tube tops, mini skirts, and strappy heels, just to get drunk at the shitty bar down the street with the watery vodka and the bad DJ. Harry’s has always been shit, Jay recalls fondly. Its only saving grace is that it’s a DeLereon staple, a rite of passage. Jay huffs then, an unintentional puff of laughter. It also doesn’t hurt, Jay licks his lips and continues to watch pretty girls stream out of DeLereon’s side gate in pairs and trios that’ll disintegrate halfway through the night, that it functions as a candy store.

He’s been doing this for awhile. The first time he did it, it terrified him. What would he do if anyone found out? What if they found his DNA at the scene? Would anyone report her missing? Did anyone see them together? Would being the prematurely balding, middle-aged guy within creepy proximity to a junior college put him on the Suspects List? But days passed. Weeks. Months. And he found the answers to his questions. When they found the body he would keep doing what he had been doing; continuing his average, lackluster life as a mediocre accountant. They won’t find DNA at the scene, whatever the woodland creatures didn’t take care of, the elements would. Parents will report their daughters missing, distraught mothers and angry fathers will call morning, noon, and night once they realize their daughters’ phones have been dead for longer than 48 hours. The school will tell them to wait another two days, don’t worry, they always turn up. Maybe she ran off with some boy at the bar, eloped for a long weekend. She’ll be back. They’ll wait another week before filling out the Missing Persons Report. The University President will sweat bullets, nonstop, for weeks. He’ll have nightmares. He’ll take an official leave of absence. Indefinitely. No one will see Jay with the girl in question. Everyone’s drunk, belligerent, horny, self-absorbed. No one saw anything. And if they did? Well. The vodka shots’ll take care of that. And, no, you won’t ever be on the Suspects List if you steer clear of “those damned fucking millennials” during the day and complain about how much you want out of your shitty neighborhood to any credible person who will listen. Play the role of disgruntled old man with no interest at all in sloppy drunk teen girls with no friends who walk around with dead phones in the middle of the night. The police are incompetent. DeLereon is complicit. The parents are immobilized. The media is uninterested. He’s free to run wild. So he does. Jay continues to watch the girls parade down the street to Harry’s. He never knows exactly what he’s looking for each time. One night he might favor a blonde, another night a girl in a pink dress or one that looks a bit dull. That’s the fun in it all. He doesn’t know until he knows. The girls go by in a never ending cacophony of tipsy shouts, the click-clacking of stiletto heels, and phone ringers marking the arrival of another ‘wya????’ text. They go by and they go by and they go by and Jay hasn’t felt anything yet. Only irritation and the mild arousal hinted at by the tent in his pants. The parade starts slowing down. And then it stops completely. All the girls who are coming out tonight are already out. Jay sucks his teeth and kicks the wall so hard he knows, without looking, that he’s made a dent. Sometimes, rarely, but it happens, his special nights end exactly like this. Frustrated and horny, angry and alone. He punches the wall one good time before stuffing his hand down his pants, stroking himself. He pumps hard, angrily, conjuring an image of the perfect girl for tonight. He wants a girl who absolutely glows. From the inside-out. He’s pumping so hard it hurts. It hurts so good. He wants a bitch who glows with a little more light in her eyes than usual. A bitch with so much light inside her, he’ll be able to see it drain from her eyes, her nose, her pores, and from her neck. From the gash he’ll make with the knife when he slashes her carotid arteries. He wants a bitch who bleeds light and blood and terror. He wants to drown in it all. He sees her as soon as he comes. She’s tall, but skinny, small; he could easily take her out. She’s dark with braids, white-blond highlights complimenting the almost ethereal glow emanating from her skin. He thinks he’s dreaming her at first but she says something. He doesn’t know what. She says it in a different language; she’s on the phone. Maybe she’s an international student. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them got left behind in the hustle and bustle. He smiles. Jay wipes his sticky hands on the inside of his shirt and lets the curtain drop. He’s found Her. He opens his front door and stands in the darkness for awhile while the girl with the braids starts walking in the direction of Harry’s. He always lets them get a head start. He loves a chase. A build up. He can feel himself hardening again. He follows her after a couple minutes. He can’t lose her even if she wanted. The girl glows like a nightlight. Like a big star. A tiny sun. He wonders, again, if he might be hallucinating. He sees her take a left turn. The wrong turn if she’s going to Harry’s, Jay thinks gleefully. The wrong turn down a deserted street. Construction is heavy during the day, but the halfway renovated street is completely empty at night. Dumb bitch. He wonders how long it’ll take her to reali— “Are you going to attack me now?” Her back is still to him but he knows that she’s talking to him. Her voice is thick with an accent he can’t place. “You’re a sloppy piece of shit. I smelled you from a mile away. You fucking stink.” She turns then and he finally gets a good look at her face. She’s beautiful, high cheekbones, full lips, a strong nose, and her eyes... They glow. They’re dark brown and they glow so bright they illuminate the rest of her features in a soft light. He’s so stunned by her otherworldly appearance he doesn’t quite understand what she’s just accused him of. “Are yo— I— ....Excuse me?” She takes a step towards him and, instinctually, his stomach twists with dread. Jay takes a step back. She smiles, phosphorescent eyes menacing. “I said, ‘I’m going to kill you.’” She walks towards him, casually, as if she were only strolling to the restroom. Jay’s mouth runs dry, his stomach clenches. He has to shit. The girl, woman... Thing... Continues steadily walking towards him. She’s such a pretty creature. Perfect, almost. Physically unoffending. Yet... something in him, some evolutionary sixth sense, is telling him he is in danger. Real danger. The kind of danger you don’t escape alive. He dashes down the street the way they came, heart pounding, legs burning, breath stilted. This is the first time he can remember being ungrateful for the lack of working street-lights in the area. This is the first time he can remember feeling... Fear. He hasn’t felt anything like this since The First Time. He’s running. He looks back and he doesn’t see anyone or anything but he still feels eyes on him. He wills his feet to go even faster. All he needs to do is get to safety. A place populated by even one other person. A bar, a drug store, a hospital, maybe, if he’s lucky. He sees it just as his lungs start burning and his legs start wobbling and his adrenaline has decided it has done as much as it can. A bright light leers at him from a distance, just beyond the next block, probably from the high beams of someone’s car, and the promise of an ending to this night propels Jay the rest of the way. Quickly closing in, he realizes the light isn’t coming from any car. Or anything at all. It floats, wraithlike, above his head. Ghostly, soft white light touches everything in sight. Chills shudder through Jay’s body; he lets his bladder go. A long, nasty laugh echoes down the street. It goes on forever. A moment frozen in time. “Big, bad serial killer pissed his pants?” Jay hears the girl, but doesn’t see her. The only thing he can focus on is the spectral light pulsing above him slowly floating within his personal space. “You dish but can’t take?” Another laugh. Another painfully long intermission. “Don’t worry,” the ball of light says, now only inches away from the man’s face. “I’ll take you out of your misery.” The girl materializes, the phantom light slowly forming her human-like shape and filling out her finer features. Jay thinks about running again, making a final last ditch attempt but, as he looks into the eyes of the girl he sees that it would be pointless. In the glow of those beautifully wicked eyes he sees bloodlust. Desire. Hunger. He knows. He’s it, tonight. Obayifo slashes Jay’s throat open with her pinky nail. His body convulses as blood sprays from the gash in his neck. It splatters against her long, Black neck and her slender chest. She shivers with pleasure as she watches the man bleed out and crumple to the street. She wipes her hand against her neck, smearing her hand in all his gore, and licks it clean. He tastes absolutely fucking disgusting. An absolute waste of a meal. She looks down to watch the man’s now lifeless body twitch. His face is frozen in an expression of terror. Eyes wide and crazed and dead. Dead. Obayifo belts out another long, demonic laugh. She’s got to get out of here. The sun will be out soon and she has other humans to really feed on or she’ll starve all day. She only goes hunting at night.

____________

A/N: An ‘Obayifo’ is a vampire-witch of Ghanian (specifically Ashanti) origin. In Ashanti origin, obayifo are very common and inhabit the bodies of ordinary people by possessing them with the ghostly, unnatural light that they emit from their bodies. They have the ability to travel as balls of light, which is usually how they draw their victims in. They suck blood from their victims from the inside-out.

I’ve taken some liberties with the folklore, obviously, as Obayifo did not inhabit Jay’s body and elected to drink from him the more commonly known way. I also didn’t (outright) show her having any witchy abilities... but... it still meets the qualifications for me!! lol, thanks for reading!

#inktober for writers #writers on tumblr #original work #writober #african folklore #african mythology #personalshy #my writing

2 notes · View notes

amnachil · 6 years ago

Text

The High School Game Part 22

And here we are, the last part !!! I hope you’ll like it.

Liam DAY 174 Monday

Today, Kilian made his come back to the school, against his mother wishes. Of course, she was worried for her son, which was quite strange knowing she was mean to him in the same time. But Liam wasn’t an expert in family's love. (After all, he had two mothers, the real, and the imitator). Anyway, the whole day, he decided to be at his friend's side. Literally. They were beside in class and they ate together. From time to time, Raphaël came, and checked if everything was alright. This bodyguard made Kilian smile.

"Are you sure this is necessary ?" he asked when the captain went once again.

"Yes it is." replied Liam. "They all need to understand I'm with you, and Raphaël too. By the way, even Nate was motivated to help, but obviously he had course."

The goalkeeper still reminbered his bestfriend word about this story. You should stay with him. You're tall and impressive bro. He said this. Tall and impressive. Liam felt tall and fat, but well. (Okay, not fat, but at least plump).

"I brought you the food you asked." stated Raphaël. "But you said to me it was for Kilian, and now I wonder who is genuinely eating this."

The goalkeeper blushed, but his gay friend burst into laughter.

"Don't worry dude ! I'm satisfied, and you just bring enough to feed an army anyway." he explained. "Liam's helping me finishing everything."

"Yeah, I guess he's." smiled the captain. "Whatever, do you think you'll be there for my departure party Kilian ?"

The boy lowered his eyes. He went from a mood to another pretty fast. Sadly, his family certainly wouldn’t agree with this idea.

"I'll ask his mother." decided Liam. "I sure she'll accept when I'll tell her Nate and I will be there."

Kilian looked at him, thankful, but Raphaël just frowned.

"I thought you were frightened by his mother ?"

The goalkeeper blushed again. Of course, his captain being a mutant, he probably could read his mind. I wonder if he knows about my struggle with my weight. Anyway, Raphaël was right, Liam was scared. But for Kilian, he was ready to take risk. He thought about this : he certainly felt pity for his gay friend, and wanted to help. Yeah, the erection and my... feelings were nothing more than pity. (Okay, you can't explain an erection by pity, but boys got sometimes uncontrolled erections after all.)

"Anyway, Liam, I let you convince his mother." whispered Raphaël. "And if you fail, I'll do it myself, okay ?"

The lad nodded. His captain was very cool...

This evening, Liam took Kilian at home, while snacking some donuts bought at Liliano's bakery. His friend invited him to come in, and they went to his bedroom. His whole family was absent, and they were alone, tranquil. Some things changed since the ran away : Ms. De Beauchêne took her son's money box, and put bar on the window, but the young teen affirmed it was not a problem. In fact, he was apparently happy to know his parents were worried for him. Despite their homophobic attitude, at least they still loved him.

"Please, have a sit. Do you want some pancakes ? My mom provides me a lot of those, now."

Liam gave him a powerless look. He already snacked a lot during the day, but it was pancakes. They are calling me. Eat me, eat me ! (Pancakes had, in his mind, their own personality, with a life goal : be eaten by Liam Strucker). He grabbed one and bit in.

"You know... I'm not supposed to eat that much." he mumbled.

Kilian smiled and sat next to him. He took a pancake too (one less for Liam, who felt a bit sad). He was cute, with his thick and curly blond hair, his blue eyes and his freckles. At the end, the goalkeeper found him too skinny, but quite handsome.

"Seems like you're lovin' the pancakes." whispered his friend, noticing he ate already four.

"Yeah, sorry, they are my weakness." explained Liam. "But I need to stop because I'm getting fat."

"Fat ? Are you kidding dude ? You're fuckin' handsome."

Tenderly, the thin boy put a hand on the plump belly of his friend.

"This is not fat. This is the sign of a heatlhy and well-fed young man. It's soft, cute, and really enjoyable."

He started to stroke the tummy, which made Liam blush. What is he doing ? Despite being surprised, the goalkeeper let him continue. It felt good. Really good.

"I wanted to thanks you." whispered Kilian, focused on Liam's belly. "For everything you did. You're nice."

"You already thanked me one hundred of times, you know ?"

But... I kinda like the way you're thanking me. Slowly, his friend put his second hand on Liam's shoulder, and brought his head closer. The goalkeeper felt something strange overhelm his body. A warmth, but not in a sexual way. Just, he felt... comfortable. He took another pancake while Kilian came even closer.

"I already tell you how much you're physically handsome, but did I say you are a lovable person too ?"

Liam blushed again. He faced his friend, their heads separatared by an inch.

"Do you think... I'm doing a mistake ?" asked Kilian.

"No. You're not. Or we both are. I don't know. Whatever."

The goalkeeper kissed the skinny lad with passion and desire. He dreamt about this since at least one week. And as expected, it felt pleasurable. For a long minute, they kissed eachother, and then, Kilian step backwards.

"I... I love you Liam. Seriously, I think you're perfect."

"I love you too." replied the goalkeeper while kissing him again.

His shyness prevented him to go too far, but he wanted more physic contact. Of course, they were in the De. Beauchêne's house, and they had to be discreet. But for now, they were alone, tranquil. And Liam intented to take advantage of this situation to cuddle his new boyfriend.

Shirley DAY 176 Wednesday

In three days, on Saturday night, the girl would play the game for the last time. Thanks to Gregory, she knew Raphaël was suspecting something, and of course, planning a defensive strategy. But Shirley was better, and already considered all the possibilities. In fact, he could not avoid her. Because she was the plan. Literally.

"Babe, what do you think about this one ?" asked Sam while going out of the bathroom.

They were at his home, alone, trying some outfit for the departure's party. To be honest, Shirley had underestimated Barbara willpower. She had rent the community center and had managed to invite at least one hundred people. The whole 11th grade, of course, but also some friends of Raphaël from other states, or even other countries. Also, she had managed to find enough food and drinks for everyone, plus several decorations she would install during the afternoon. Sam and Shirley so, had to try suit and dress, because the class delegate demanded evening wear. Gregory was right... She’s in love...

"Babe, are you looking to my suit, or thinking about somethin' else ?"

Shirley raised her head and smiled.

"Sorry. It's perfect."

It was. He bought with his mother a new outfit, considering his last one was obviously too tight. His belly pushed a bit against his white shirt, but nothing too uncomfortable. Seing his like this, she realised how handsome he was. Since he accepted his new body, without six pack, Sam became at the same time cuter, and nicer.

"Which dress will you wear ?" he asked, far away her thoughts.

"I don't know honey. I think a basic one will be enough."

He sat next to her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Babe, what are you planning exactly ?"

"What ? What are you telling ?"

Sam looked at her, serious. He wasn’t joking. I hope Gregory didn’t tell anything... Otherwise, the plan will fail.

"I know you still blame Raphaël for everything, and however, you are fine with this party, planning how to dress and what we're gonna bring as a gift. So I wonder if you ain't planning something ?"

She laughed. After all, he knows me better than I thought. The old Sam, overconfident and selfish, wouldn’t have asked her about this.

"Don't worry honey. I'm not planning anything. I know Dan'll be here, as my mother. And I decided to make a clean break with past. Also, yeah, I still blame Raphaël, but I'll be exemplary during the party."

"Okay, it's nice to hear that." Sam replied, reassured. "Because I would have be very disappointed if you tried something..."

She smiled. Well... Don't worry my boy, you'll never suspect what I'm planning... She was confident : once Raphaël annihilated, Sam would love her unconditionally... I just have to succeed.

When she left her boyfriend this night, the young girl headed towards Mcdo, where Gregory was certainly waiting for her. She entered in the fastfood, and glimpsed the lazy boy, eating burgers like if they were candies. She sat in front of him and smiled.

"Having fun, Greg ?"

He swallowed slowly.

"I'm training." he laughed. "I heard Barbara spoke about a fuckin' feast in honor of Raphaël, and I want to be the best eater. And by the way, I have to feed this."

He patted affectionately his potbelly. Jeezus, he's so different... Like Sam, the dark-haired lad changed a lot when he gained weight. First oblivious he now enjoyed it even more than her boyfriend. He was constantly eating, and continued his lazy way of life, unworried by the fat paunch he maintained. But she wasn’t here to admire Gregory's new love for laziness.

"Do you think he found the stuff you hid at his home ?"

"No. He did not."

"Good. By the way, I've one last thing to ask you during the party. Will you do it ?"

Gregory leaned towards her. He smelled the grease and the protein shake.

"I really want to see his face when you'll win the game." he whispered. "So yes, I'll do anything you want to. Just tell me."

"Can you isolate him for a while ? During the party of course ?"

He nodded.

"I'll do it. But what is exactly your plan ?"

She had never told him. He was not fully trustworthy.

"Don't worry Gerg. Just isolate him, and I swear to you : his whole life will be ruined."

Gregory FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

This afternoon, the young lad was so excited he had itchy feet. Shirley promised to Raphaël the hell, and he was part of this plan. I can't wait to see his face... Sadly, he had to wait. Right now, he was with Thomas, at the Muller's home, but the captain wasn’t here. His little brother was quite excited too, but not for the same reason, obviously. They were playing videogames, captivated, when the bell rang.

"Don't move dude, I'll be back." stated Thomas while standing up.

However, he came with Sam in the living room a few minutes later. What is he doing here ? Shirley boyfriend looked at Gregory, and sat onto the sofa, his belly hanging over his tigh pant. Of course, Gregory couldn’t really tease him, his own paunch being largely bigger.

"Thanks Thomas." started Sam. "Greg, I needed to talk to you. I need your help."

The dark-haired lad raised an eyebrow. It was kinda surprising from Sam. They were friends (Mcdo friends), but they never talked that much. Thomas gave them some cookies (as the feeder he always have been), and they both started to ate.

"Okay, I think Shirley is planning something for tonight." explained Sam. "Something bad. She's acting too normal, those last few days. Like if she wanted to be at the party. But I know this is false. She made a plan. An evil plan, in order to make Raphaël pay."

Gregory just stared at his buddy with amazement. Wow... I thought he was just a fat dumbass... However, he apparently didn’t suspected that the supporting striker was part of the plan.

"Pay for what ?" asked curiously Thomas.

"She blames him for absolutely everything." replied Sam. "She thinks he's guilty for Kilian's stuff, and Kim's stuff, and Jessy's stuff. And even Greg's stuff. She's convinced everything is a part of the game, and she wants to win. Of course, she didn’t tell me this, but I know it's true."

Gregory opened his eyes wide. Seemingly Sam had understood more things than he let appear. But even more astounding, Thomas laughed, completely unworried for his brother.

"The game !" he guffawed. "She'll not win the game by defeating Raphaël. In fact, she'll lose it. That's funny..."

Sam looked at him, curious, but then focused on Gregory.

"Whatever it be, I need your help dude. You were her worst ennemy, and you know how she's thinking. You probably are aware of her plans, ain't you ? That's why both of you met at Mcdo every night, isn't it ?"

Holy shit. Did he is ignorant of at least one thing ? Sam never indicated he was aware of their meetings. And Thomas looks to trust more in his brother than Shirley... Maybe it was time to betray the young gril. For my own safety. I have a cool life now... Am I ready to lose it only to see Raphaël defeated ? With the possibility to lose everything instead of him ? The answer was evident.

"I know she want to trap him." he eventually confessed. "But she doesn't really need my help, and she will do it anyway. She's convinced she can ruin his life."

"Well... I hope for you she'll gave up." whispered softly Thomas. "Because she'll probably also ruin her own life in the process."

Gregory smiled. Thomas's confidence in his brother was kinda amazing. He took a cookie, and watched Sam think. Dude, I hope you'll find something... Otherwise, it'll be a fuckin' chaos. But anyway, as a worthy lazy boy, the dark-haired boy did not care. The only thing he wanted right now was this cookie.

Liam FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

Liam, Kilian (Can he call him his skinny poppet ? He always wanted to call someone his poppet) and Nate were, as volunteer, helping Barbara for the installation of the community center. They had a great time, thanks to the good mood they shared. Of course, the goalkeeper told everything to his bestfriend, who was happy to know he found love again, and accepted his body the way it was. As time spent, Barbara was more and more stressed, and they glimpsed her tears when she failed to fasten a tinsel.

"We'll do this." offered Nate. "Don't worry."

He brought Kilian with him, and they both took the garland. Meanwhile, Liam decided to speak with his class delegate. She's so panicked... She did an Herculean work. Barbara dressed casually, but he had glimpsed the beautiful dress she bought and hid in a corner of the room. This party was maybe for Raphaël's departure, but she could be proud of herself. She did everything alone, because Jessy just abandonned her when her new boyfriend Finn had been expelled. (Liam's ex blamed the class delegate, and the goalkeeper apologised like one hundred time to Barbara, despite being innocent).

"Are you okay ?" he asked. "Everything's ready, you don't have to worry you know ?"

"That's not... not the organization. I just... think Gregory played with my feelings, and I'm sad about this."

"What do you mean ?"

She looked at Kilian, and smiled.

"How did you realised you were gay ?"

Liam frowned. Nice question. He didn’t understand why she asked this, but he decided to be honest.

"I don't even know if I'm gay, bisexual or whatever." he explained. "I just... feel something for Kilian I never felt before. It's... hard to explain, but I feel... fine with him. Fine with my body, with my toughts, with my delirium..."

The last word made her smile.

"I think you work well together." she whispered. "Thanks you for helping me. I owe you something."

"Absolutely not." he affirmed. "We're glad to help for this party. And I'm sure Raphaël'll be thanksful."

"Oh, I know he will..." she smiled, but her eyes hid a glint of sadness. "It's just... did you ever expected so much something, and then, realised it was impossible ? The more you're excited about this, the more it's painful then."

He nodded slowly. I think I understand... But she was a strong girl. She would get through her feelings. And find a perfect boy for her. He wanted to say something, but her phone rang suddenly.

"It must be the first guest !" she shouted.

While she pick up the phone, he headed towards his friends.

Nate and Kilian were finishing to fasten the tinsel, and when they glimpsed him, they both laughed. What did Nate said ? (Yeah, it was necessarily Nate's fault, this little boy was a jolly fellow). Liam came closer, and smiled, curious.

"We wondered how much you'll eat tonight, black hole." explained his bestfriend. "Are you hungry ?"

One week before, Liam would have blush, and just laughed, uncomfortable with his bulge, but now, it was different. Different because like Nate, someone loved this little plumpness. Consequently, he blushed (yeah, classic did not change) but lift his shirt up and smiled.

"Ask my food baby dudes. I think he is kinda hungry yeah."

They all laughed. Nate pinched his stoutness, admirative.

"This is a good baby ! Heatlhy !"

Kilian, this sneaky boy, patted Nate belly and busrt in laugh.

"It seems like he will have a bestfriend. You both have wonderful baby food !"

"Yeah, but stay with me, and soon, you'll have one too." replied Liam.

Of course, not everything was perfect. Kilian's family was still unware of their relation. They were still homophobic, and quit violent towards the young lad, but less than before. In the contrary, Chloe and Liam's mother (the real one) were both aware of the situation, and they took this well, gald to know he was happy.

"Anyway, what are we doing now ?" asked Nate.

Liam smiled.

"We have something to do for Raphaël. C'mon, follow me."

They headed towards the backyard, and the goalkeeper opened the door to Dan, Shirley's brother. The college student came in and greeted them cheerfully.

"Everything went fine ? Barbara is okay ?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's welcoming the firsts guest." replied Liam. "And you, are you ready ?"

Nate and Kilian look out of their's eyes, surprised by the situation. I forgot to explain them what is happening... Woops. (He did not feel sorry at all).

"I think I am." supposed Dan. "But she's as stubborn as a mule. I hope she'll listen to me."

"We all are with you." approved Liam. "She's my friend, but Raphaël is too, I understand your position. Good luck, mate !"

Then, the four boys went in, joining the party. And Liam took Kilian's hand, happier than ever.

Shirley FINAL CHAPTER DAY 179 Saturday

This party was the most noisy and muffled she ever experienced. The night was late, and she was pondering her plan over and over again. Her mother was here, at the buffet, distrayed by Liam, Kilian and Nate. Without knowing it, they were playing Shirley's game. However, Sam was sticking her like a robot. Usually, he had gone to the buffet one or two times, but not during this party. And Gregory didn’t isolated Raphaël yet. I'll do it myself. She was just waiting a good opportunity. Barbara did an amazing work : the decoration was awesome, the food really tasty and everyone was having fun. Except Shirley. When she glimpsed the devil heading towards the toilet, she decided to move into action. Still followed by Sam, she came closer, but suddenly, Thomas and Dan cut her up. What the fuck ? Her brother was wearing a cute suit, enlightening his new muscles, but also his round belly. And Raphaël's brother was like a mini-devil, shorter but as depraved.

"I'm in a rush." she said. "Let me go."

"Wait a minute." suggested Thomas. "Your brother needs to talk to you."

She gave him a dirty look, but did not move. His tone was strangely persuasive. Let's see what they want. Dan looked at her seriously and smiled.

"Sis', listen, I'm sorry. I was enraged, and I overreacted during our last argument. I think I need to explain things better."

Shirley frowned. What was that ?

"I'm gay. Yeah, I'm gay, and you're cool with this. Several friends of yours are gay too. But when I asked you to apologise to Raphaël, it was because you had hurted him, violently, and he had suffer. Not only physically but also..."

"I'm done with this crap." she interrupted.

It was still the same speech. The devil's speech. I don't care Dan. You need to open your eyes, everyone needs to. She avoided him, and headed towards Raphaël. She could hear her brother yelling, but did not care. Her mother would probably try her luck soon, and the devil would certainly took advantage of this. I need to act now. Sorry bro'. She entered in the toilet, more determined than ever.

Strangely, when she went in, she found Raphaël watching the mirror, meditative. He was shirtless, unveiling his incredible six pack, his strong pec and arms, like a top model. Is he contemplating himself ?! Without a look for her, he smiled. Shirley grasped her dress. I'll simulate a rape. I'll do it.

"Dan and I are going out together." he suddenly stated. "We're in a relationship."

She stopped her move and stared at him. What did you just said ? Slowly, the devil turned towards her.

"Your brother is my boyfriend." he repeated. "And if you try something now, especially something this stupid, you'll lose him forever. In fact, you'll lose Sam too, and Liam, and Kilian, and your mother. Are you sure you want to do this ?"

"I don't understand." she mumbled. "How is it possible ?"

"The condo Shirley. His friend's condo. It's mine." explained Raphaël. "When I discovered he was gay, I told him I was too, and we made a date. Look, to be fully honest, I have been loving your brother since 2 years, but I ignored he was gay. Now, we're boyfriends."

"But... why he didn’t tell me this ?"

She was lost. Lost because it make sense. It explained why Dan was overprotecting Raphaël. Why they always were friends.

"He tried, in his own way..." confessed Raphaël. "He told you about weak erogenous area, like mine, which means being sensitive from the crotch. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Plus, I asked him to let you partially in the dark."

She frowned.

"Why ?"

"For the game. You needed to understand the game."

Shirley nodded slowly. The devil was obsessed with this game. But she did not get it. She was still unaware of the rules, of the aim, of everything. What this fuckin' game was, after all ?

"You're what we call in the game a deviant. You are against the conformism, and you struggle against the rules constantly, trying to escape this setting. And for people like you, there is three kind of ennemy in the game." explained Raphaël. "You fighted each one, one after another. And you succeeded at least two times."

She looked at him. Please... Be honest. Her rancor was disapearing. Even if he was a monster, he was right. If she tried something, Dan would never forgive her. Neither Sam, nor Liam. But deep inside, she was not convinced of his evilness anymore. He sounded just like a sociopath.

"Firstly, there are deviants, like you, but who are ignoring themselves." started Raphaël. "This kind of people didn’t really conform to the rules, they try to escape from the game. They're following the rules, but feel uncomfortable. And because they want unconsciously to escape, they blame the others deviants, in order to feel less guilty for their own difference. Sam was this kind of person, as Gregory. Liam was quite similar, but he never charged anybody other than himself. However, now, they all have discovered their true self, and they have become true deviants. Secondly, there are the products of the game. They're people who always follow the rules, and conform to the game. They hunt deviants, and try to annihilate their kind. For example, Kim is a product, as Jessy, or Finn. Even Barbara, but she's smarter, and she know where are her limits. For a while, I thougth Gregory was this kind too, but you proved me he was a deviant."

Raphaël made a break, and she looked at him, surprised. He was telling everything so quietly. She started to understand what the game really was. But she had still several questioning.

"Finally, the third ennemy is the deviant himself." he continued. "Because he refuses to conform, he's always fighting, and he tends to become paranoid, afraid of everything and everyone. For example, you're putting all your difficulties on my back. Deviants wants to feel free, and in order to succeed, they often over blame the others kinds for their problems. This is typically your case. And I'm not sure you'll defeat this ennemy yet."

She nodded. Yeah, it was true. She was turning him as the evil in order to feel less guilty. But what is his role in this game ? And what are truly the rules ?

"As you certainly understood, the game is a rough designation of our society. That's why you can't exactly win the game. Deviants are simply people who are struggling against the standards and the norms of our society. Because you love fat guys, you're not conforming to the natural and social selection, which recommend to love muscled and well built boys. Sam and Gregory, because they have chosen a lazy way of life, are not conforming to the social preference for work and sport. And Liam, Dan or Kilian ain't conforming to the social and biological gender. You're playing the game, since the beginning of your life, and until the end, but you can't win it. However, the better you understand how it works, the more you could feel at ease with this."

Shirley did not know what to say. It was... true. At least, logical, and not stupid. Maybe quite simplified. Raphaël smiled. And for the first time, it was not a cold smile, but a amiable grin.

"As for me, I just helped you to understand this. To be honest, I first tried to help Sam, and then I decided to help you with this stuff. As I told you, deviants tend to choose an ennemy, and I decided to be yours. In this way, I hoped you would understand how our society works, and achieve to struggle against it."

"You're a deviant too." she stated. "Because you're gay. And you love a chubby man, my brother."

"Well, we are coming to my last point." he laughed. "Eventually, I only have one favor to ask. Of course, I'll decline your mother's wish of testimony. But I wondered if you would accept somethin' now..."

"Tell me."

She was completely calm now. She had realised Raphaël was not the devil. As he said, he did not planned Finn's actions, or Kim's ones. He was innoncent, and she had charged him wrongly. He was still a manipulator, obsessed by his training and the game, but he was not her ennemy. Finally, maybe he is a deviant because he's too smart to conform...

"Now I'm dating your brother, I hoped you and I would succeed to be... friends." he whispered.

Shirley smiled. She did not deserve his friendship after everything she had tried. But here he was. I think you're completly crazy...

"I'm sorry." she mumbled. "Now, I regret having kicked you in the balls. And I regret my plan for tonight."

"That's nothing." he replied. "Well, the kick was quite painful, but otherwise, I'm fine."

He put his shirt back and headed towards the door, and she let him do. After all, it was his party, and they probably were waiting for him. He opened the door, and just before going out, looked at her.

"By the way, I found the condoms, the sextoy and the porn magazines in my house. I can tell you Dan and I enjoyed most of them."

The end

Well, that’s it. I hope you liked it. I wanted Raphaël to be her last ennemy since the vey begining. And in a way, I think he’s a real sociopath x) but also right. Today, in Western society, there is a real struggle between conformism to norm and individuals preferences. That’s what I wanted to point out at the end of the story.

I guess we can temporarily say goodbye to all my OCs. But I already started another project with some of them (Liam mainly because I love him so much). Maybe I’ll post it later, maybe not, we’ll see.

In the meantime, I’ll post some fanfic with weight gain / stuffing when I have time and inspiration.

Thank you all for reading !

#hsg #the high school game #part 22 #My Story #weight gain #wg #Kiliam #Samley #The truth about the devil #Shirley VS Raphaël #last part #thank you all for reading

5 notes · View notes

leaves-of-three · 7 years ago

Text

Day Eleven: Part Two || Soon

Connor Murphy x Reader

Word Count: 1713

Summary: A continuation to Day Eleven. Getting ready for a date with a Connor and a slight change of plans. [This is part of an in progress series. You can follow along here.]

Author’s Note: This is kinda short. I was only gonna have two parts to day eleven. The first half when he asks her on a date and then the date itself. But then the idea of using Connor to get back at a parent you’re pissed at sounded too appealing and it turned into this. And I wanted the actual dinner to be separate piece because I got tired of writing this one lol idk I've just felt like crap lately. One of these days my writing will better maybe xKatie

You wanted to be happy. You wanted to be excited. You were technically going on a date with Connor. Sort of. You don’t just jump into someone’s arms and make out with them, then get asked to dinner by them the next day, if it wasn’t a date. Right? You should be happy. This was what you wanted. This was what you had been waiting for.

Then how come the second you clicked out of facetime with him, you felt nothing? It was like the moment his face was out of your direct line of sight, you felt empty. Why did your mood change so suddenly? This morning you woke up beaming over Connor. Now you struggled to find the will power to get out of bed. You were laying there waiting for any sort of emotion to hit but nothing was coming. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes to into hours, and before you knew it darkness was creeping over your room.

You hadn’t moved from your bed once.

As it inched closer to 7, you finally forced yourself into the bathroom to take a shower. You’d probably feel excited when you started getting ready. You could shower, wash your hair, redo your make up, dry and curl your hair, and pick out an outfit. It should be fun. You used to love this part of getting ready for a date. You’d listen to music and dance around your room. Typically Alyssa would have been over to help. She’d give you advice on what to wear and what to say as long as you promised to fill her in on all the details afterwards. Your evenings would be filled with laughter, excitement, and hope.

You missed having girlfriends.

You missed laughing.

The shower sputtered to life as you stood naked in your bathroom. You held your hand under the stream then quickly pulled it back. It was freezing. The hot water would take a few minutes to warm up. You shivered. Your house always ran cold. You grabbed a fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around yourself while you patiently waited for steam to start filling the tiny room. Opposite you sat the mirror hanging over the bathroom sink. Your eyes were drawn up to the reflection.

There was nothing looking back. There was no life of a person behind your eyes. They were blank. For some reason you started to feel shameful, like you had done something wrong, like it was your fault that you weren’t able to feel the right emotions. You were supposed to be happy. The fact that you weren’t only caused you to be racked with guilt. Something was wrong with you. You weren’t working properly.

You stayed staring into the void of your eyes until the mirror began to steam up. Your reflection became distorted and softened as the fog crept along the glass. When you could no longer see any distinguishing features of yourself, you hung your towel back up and stepped into the water. It stung your skin. Blood rose to your cheeks under the heat. You closed your eyes and let the water soak away your sins.

Five minutes in and you had started crying. You were always crying. There was no in between. You were either crying or you were zoning out for hours. This afternoon had been a rare treat when you could actually function and get something productive done. Those special moments were few and fleeting nowadays. Whatever spark you had found earlier was gone. You would have to cancel on Connor. You couldn’t go out like this. No one wants a dinner date with a crying zombie.

You rinsed off any remaining shampoo in your hair and turned off your shower. Your sniffling, quiet sobs sounded more prominent without the water to drown them out. Pathetic. You were pathetic. It would be impossible for anyone to ever find you attractive or desirable like this. Why were you even trying to trick yourself? To Connor, you were probably nothing more than a charity case that had been thrust upon him.

With a towel wrapped tightly around you, you pulled your hairdryer out from under the sink cabinet. If you wanted to cancel on him so badly then why were you still getting ready? Maybe you still had a some hope that your excitement would return and everything would go back to normal. It was a losing bet. Normal wasn’t something you were familiar with anymore.

Hair dry. Curled. Brushed out into soft waves.

Make up done. Foundation. Highlighter. Lashes. Winged liner. Natural lips.

Clothes picked out. Skinny jeans. Loose top. Cardigan. Boots.

Jewelry on. Necklace. Two rings. Painted nails.

You evaluated your appearance in the mirror. You could make yourself look decent on the outside but you knew the truth. On the inside you were hollow and miserable. It would only be a matter of time before everyone else realized the truth too.

Connor: Today 6:58 pm: be there soon

Y/N: Today 6:58 pm: I’ll be waiting :)

The doorbell ran. You looked down at your phone in confusion. That was fast. He had just texted you. You grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder, and pulled open the front door.

You took a step back in surprise. Instead of seeing Connor, you came face to face with a woman you’d never see before. “Oh crap...sorry. I thought you were someone else,” you tried to force some sort of polite smile onto your face. “Can I help you?”

The woman smiled back. She was tall and slim. Her hair was dyed a shade of blonde that didn’t quite match her skin tone. The dye job made it look like a bad wig. She looked to be in her mid thirties. “You must be Y/N? It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she spoke as if you were supposed to know who the hell she was.

You gave her a look of confusion, “Uh, if you’re selling something, we don’t want it but thanks anyway...”

She laughed. Like her hair color, it was obviously fake, “No, no, sweetie.” You despised being called sweetie. “I’m Holly. Holly Silk?” She picked up that the name didn’t sound familiar so she added, “...Your dad’s girlfriend?”

Your stomach dropped. Since when was your father dating? He had never once mentioned or shown interest in that sort of thing since your mom had passed. It had been ten years. You felt naive to admit it, but you always believed that he would have stayed true to your mother, that the idea of seeing another woman would have been absurd to him. Your mind began to race through a million things at once. You felt sick. This was bound to happen eventually. If you thought about it realistically, of course he’d want to find someone to spend his time with. But why hadn’t he ever mentioned it to you? And why her? Holly Silk? That sounded like a name a porn star would make up. You hated this woman instantly.

You gave her a snide smile and said in a sickly sweet voice, “I’m sorry, Holly. My father isn’t in at the moment. I’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.” You went to close the door in her face.

She put her hand out to stop it, trying not to look as annoyed as she felt, “Actually I was hoping I could come in and wait. I’ve been away on a business trip the past two days. I thought I would surprise Steven when he got home. I was going to cook his favorite meal.” She held up the grocery bags in her hands, “Tacos! I’ve brought all the fixings for them. Enough for all three of us to eat. I thought it would be a good time for us to get to know each other.”

You scowled, “Actually my dad’s favorite meal is my dead mother’s famous lasagna recipe that we make every Christmas but good try.”

Holly still did her best to hold up the smile plastered on her face despite her eyes flashing in displeasure, “Well regardless, maybe I come in? I’ve been waiting to get to know you for some time now. It’d be lovely to have dinner with you and your father.”

That was the last thing on earth you’d ever want to be doing. Your anger for your father started to grow. How could he be seeing someone and not tell you? It was his fault she was showing up at your door. It was his fault some stranger was begging to come inside and cook with you. He was so oblivious to everything going on in your life. While you were out lost in a forest and having your entire life crumble around you, he was out fucking around with Ms. Porn Star Name. You had spent the past week crying yourself to sleep every night and he had no damn clue. Your mother would have known. She would have picked up on your change in behavior. She would have known how to take care of you. She would have been a parent. Your jaw clenched. Everything was your father’s fault, you decided.

You crossed your arms as a plan formed in your head. An evil grin spread across your face. “Actually Helen-

“Holly,” she corrected.

“My bad. Actually Holly, I’m waiting for a date to show up and take me out to dinner. He should be here any moment. But if you didn’t mind, I could always invite him inside to eat with us. It could be a double date. I’m sure my father would be thrilled.” The idea of Connor, probably still on his high from earlier, with a face bruised and bloodied sitting to eat dinner with you and your dad’s girlfriend sounded like the perfect form of revenge. If your dad could surprise you with a new girlfriend then, surely, he wouldn’t mind if you surprised him Connor.

Holly sighed in relief. She obviously had no idea what was in store. “That would be wonderful! I hope you don’t mind changing your plans for me?”

You pushed open the door and stepped aside for her. “No, no. It’s perfectly fine. Don’t worry. Please, come in. My date will be thrilled be to meet you...I’m sure of it.”

#connor murphy x reader #connor murphy #dear evan hansen #deh #deh fic #connor murphy fc

47 notes · View notes