#I’m taking this too far someone stop me

[revelboo]

Prowl no💔 you come back and get us RIGHT NOW

He thinks he’s doing right

Stand Too Close Pt 15

Prowl x Reader

• You don’t even like him, so why do you feel like crying? People are giving you a wide berth and you reach up to try to do something about your hair and realize you’re crying. Tears silently sliding over your cheeks as the anger begins to build. Because he’d thrown you away without any hesitation. Gotten tired of you and discarded you. And you know you’re lying, that you’d been growing attached to him. Starting to get to know the real him under the prickly asshole veneer. Picking your way along the street to your apartment building, you realize you have no idea what happened to your keys or any of your stuff. You’d dropped it when Prowl had hit you. And that has to have been months ago. Trying to scrub the tears away with the heel of your palm, you head toward the grubby little office for the apartment building.

• Can’t make himself leave you just yet. Had gotten halfway back to the Ark before turning around and finding a dark alley on the outskirts of your city to park. It takes him longer than he’d like to get his holoform avatar stable and solid enough to interact with humans. Walking the streets in search of you, he’s aware that the other humans shy away from him. Humans walking toward him part around him even going so far as to step into the street to avoid touching him. Like they can somehow sense he’s not one of them. That he’s other.

• Turns out when you stop paying rent for months, even if it’s because you’re missing, you still get evicted. Listening in a numb fury as the lady stinking of sweet and milds at the desk tells you about how everyone assumed you’d been murdered and your body dumped out in the desert. Almost sounding disappointed that you’re alive. Your stuff is gone, too. Apparently the police had gone through your apartment looking for signs of foul play, hadn’t found any and your landlady had dumped your stuff out in front of the building as soon as she legally could.

• Turns out that it’s hard to find one human among thousands. And he almost walks past the hunched figure sitting on a street corner. Stopping in front of you, your head lifts and the tears are like a slap. “I’m going, okay?” Watches you stand and scrub at your face. Why are you on the street? And you’re upset not happy. Why didn’t you go home? “Of course, she called the cops on me.” And he reaches to catch your wrist. If he speaks up you’ll know him, but he can’t just leave you like this. This isn’t what he wanted.

• Something about the cop makes your skin prickle and you wish he’d let go, but you don’t dare fight against his grip. “I don’t have a phone. I just need to call someone,” you add, not even knowing who to call. Your family is out on the other coast. And you’d also figured out you can’t get into your bank account without an ID, so you’re broke. Homeless and defeated. Had almost walked to your workplace, but you’re sure they’ve replaced you by now and you don’t think you can take one more hit. Because this is all just the cherry on top of the abandonment sundae Prowl had served you. And the cop is just staring down at you, expression empty. Unmoved by your grief. Sucking in a breath,you go rigid when he tugs you into his body, his other hand cupping the back of your head. And cop or no cop, you panic and knee him without thinking.

Previous

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Pieces of Her - Chapter Three

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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All OC Characters belong to me

Summary: Five months away from her dream wedding, Kenya’s world is turned upside down and her heart is shattered leaving her heartbroken and confused.

Keyna sighed as she shut off her car and looked at the house before her.  She pulled the ultrasound out of the sun visor and stared at it. After taking the pregnancy test at her studio the other she called her doctor for an emergency visit. Her doctor confirmed that she was three months pregnant. 

She spent three days sitting with the news and debating whether she should tell Jon. She still hadn’t spoken to him since the night she left. He had called her a couple of times but she had let them all go to voicemail. 

Sighing, she ticked the ultrasound into her bag before getting out of the car and walking up to the front door. She didn’t know if she should knock or just use her key to get in. What if what Talisua said was true? What if Jon really had moved Trinity back into the house? 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.  She didn’t have to wait long to hear someone on the other side of the door. A small smile was on her face as she heard the sound of nails tapping against the floor before a loud bark. 

“Zeus, chill.” She heard Jon grumble on the other side before the door opened. 

Jon looked shocked to see her. “Kenya?” he called out, lifting his hand to touch her. She flinched and he immediately put his hand back down. She couldn’t stop staring at him, he looked… bad. His beard was unkempt, his hair was greasy like he hadn’t washed it in weeks and he had dark circles under his eyes. 

Their staring contest broke when Zeus let out a loud bark, pushed past Jon, and jumped on Kenya. Kenya laughed as Zeus tried to lick her face, she gently pushed him back. 

“Zeus, chill,” Jon said again and whistled. Zeus stopped jumping on Kenya and walked back into the house. 

“Can I come in?” She asked

“Of course, this is still your house, too,” Kenya said nothing as she followed Jon into the house. She toed off her UGG slippers and walked into the living room. Jon followed behind her. He watched as she sat on the couch, her posture rigid, as if she would rather be anywhere but their shared home “How have you been?” He asked, his eyes still on her. “I missed you.” 

Kenya scoffed and reached into her bag to pull out the ultrasound. “Here.” 

She heard Jon suck in a deep breath as he took the ultrasound from her. With a shaky hand, he brought the picture up to his face. “This forreal?” he asked and she sucked her teeth. 

“I wouldn’t lie about no shit like this Jonathan.” Kenya snapped with a roll of her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon muttered. “I just wasn’t expecting this.”He was happy. Before everything happened, he and Kenya were trying to have a baby. Jon’s eyes lingered on the ultrasound, his hands trembling as he stared down at it, “How far along are you?” 

“Three months.” 

“This is good right?” Jon asked and Kenya turned her head to look at him. “Kenya this is so good, I- We can get back to how we used to be.” 

Kenya’s eyes flashed with pain, and she turned her head slowly to look at him. “How we used to be? Jonathan, you moaned your ex-fiancee’s name while you came inside of me! There is no getting back to what we used to be. I only told you because I didn’t want my child to grow up without a father.” 

“Kenya, please. I love you. I fucked up, but I can’t live without you” 

Kenya scoffed and rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, right. Your mom already told me what the deal is.”  Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “Your mom came to my studio last week, she told me to come and get all my shit from my house so Trinity could get herself comfortable in my house. That’s so fucked up Jonathan. Now you tryna tell me you can’t live without me?! Fuck off.” Kenya snatched the ultrasound from Jon’s hand and stood from the couch.  “I’ll text you to tell you my next appointment.” 

“Kenya!” Jon called out as he jumped from the couch and followed her to the front door. She didn’t stop though. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. “Please, just listen to me.”  

Kenya stopped walking and turned around to glare at Jon. “There is nothing left for you to say! I only came here to tell you about our child, nothing more.  I’m not doing this for us, Jon. I’m doing this because that’s what’s best for our child.” 

Jon stood there frozen. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He wanted to yell at her, make her understand how sorry he was.  But he couldn’t he could only watch as she turned to walk out of the front door, down the driveway, and to her car. She didn’t even look back at him before pulling off.  

Jon closed the door and slowly walked back into the living room, he dropped down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to breathe through the ache in his chest. He had no right to stop her, no right to expect her to stay. She had every right to walk away, she had every right to not want anything to do with him. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that he had just let the most important person in his life walk away. And he didn’t know how to get her back.

It had been two weeks since Kenya told Jon she was pregnant. And it was now time for her first checkup. She had texted him and told him the time of the appointment. He had responded that he would be there. 

Kenya sat in the waiting room, her nerves on edge as the seconds ticked by. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. 

“Kenya?” 

Kenya took a deep breath as she stood up, she checked her phone again and sighed when she had no new messages from Jon. He was late. Grabbing her bag, she followed behind the nurse to the exam room. She remained quiet while the nurse got her vitals. 

“The doctor should be in shortly ok?” The nurse said with a warm smile. Kenya nodded and returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Thank you.”  The nurse nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She checked her phone again, but still no messages from Jon. Her nerves were now gone, she was pissed.  He had said he was going to be here. He said he was gonna be there for their child. 

She heard a soft knock on the door before it opened slightly. The doctor walked in, a warm smile on her face. "Hi, Kenya! How are you feeling today?" 

“Excited,” Kenya replied. She was excited and she wasn’t going to let Jon’s absence and broken promise upset her. “But also a little nervous.” 

The doctor nodded understandingly. "That’s totally normal. Let’s get you checked out and make sure everything’s looking good. I’ll do a quick ultrasound, and we’ll go from there."

Kenya’s mind wandered as the doctor prepared the equipment, and soon the cold gel was pressed against her abdomen. The buzzing of the ultrasound machine filled the quiet room,

The doctor hummed thoughtfully as she examined the screen, clearly looking for something specific.  “Oh!” She said and Kenya started to panic. Her eyes flickered from the screen to the doctor. “Well, double congratulations. You’re having twins.” 

“Oh fuck” Kenya’s breath caught in her throat. “Twins?” 

Doctor Monroe nodded her head with a chuckle. "It looks like there are two little heartbeats in there. Two babies. Healthy and developing right on track." 

TWO?! Kenya couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. Before she could say anything, the door opened and Jon stumbled through, out of breath and holding two gift bags, one blue and one pink. 

“I’m so sorry,” He blurted out as he rushed to Kenya’s side. “I wasn’t sure which one to get and shit, I spent too much time in that damn store.”  He stopped rambling as he noticed the look of horror on Kenya’s face as she stared at the screen. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m - we’re - twins.” That was all Kenya could get out. Jon looked towards Doctor Monore for confirmation and she nodded her head. 

“Twins, here look.” She placed the transducer back on Kenya’s stomach.  “One baby here,” she pointed to one of the images, “and the second one right here. You can see both heartbeats. Everything’s developing normally.”

Jon’s breath hitched as he saw the two tiny forms on the screen, side by side. His chest tightened as the reality of two babies settled in. He couldn’t deny the rush of emotions, but there was still that undercurrent of anxiety. Twins. It was so much more than he had expected. He already had two kids from a relationship way before Kenya. They were both teenagers with his oldest now in college, it was like Jon was starting all over. 

“Everything looks great, Kenya. We’ll schedule another checkup in a few weeks.” Doctor Monroe smiled at the two of them. “I’ll get these printed out and have my nurse bring them in.” 

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, her voice steady, though still distant as her thoughts swirled.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, her voice steady, though still distant as her thoughts swirled.

The doctor gave them one last glance before she stepped out of the room, the soft click of the door behind her somehow making the silence feel even heavier.

“You cool?” 

Kenya rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache start to creep in as the reality continued to sink in. She glanced at him, then quickly looked away, her gaze landing on the ultrasound images, still clear on the screen.

“What are the fucking odds?” 

“I mean…” He trailed off with a chuckle. “But everything it gonna be okay. Imma be here for you and our children. Diamond and Jordan are gonna be ecstatic.” 

Kenya tried to hide the grimace on her face at Jon mentioning his other children. Now, she loved them but they could care less for her. Diamond, Jon’s 15-year-old daughter hated Kenya and no matter what Kenya tried to do, nothing ever worked. 

Kenya had gotten Diamond and her friend backstage passes to a Chris Brown concert, Diamond barely said two words to Kenya the whole night and only thanked her father for the tickets. 

It seemed like everyone in Jon’s family was against her and it made her second guess if she wanted to bring children into this dynamic. Because they could hate her all they wanted, but she be dammed if they hated her children. 

Authors Note: OMG ABOUT TIME 😬

Sooo twins... were we expecting that?

Lemme know your thoughts on this chapter!

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[just-wrting]

Think I Like You

Title: Think I Like You

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Half Mink!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Master List

Summary: You try to figure out why Zoro won’t take you seriously even if the answer isn’t what you expect.

A/N: I’m not dead! I’m just all over the place with a lot of stuff. I sleep a lot which I can’t tell if it’s a sleep issue or a depression issue, but I’m always tired. I still work full time but also do school part time now. Plus I’ve still got a boyfriend! But he wanted to end this weekend on 1062 which means Zoro brainrot for me.

You stretch and roll over, burying your face into your pillow. Ever since you changed where you nap, you've started sleeping so much better. Something about being more comfortable or something like that. The actual reason doesn't really matter. You're just happy you're sleeping better.

"You owe me for this."

"I don't owe you shit. Not my fault you nap in my spot." You reach up and pat his cheek. "What do I need to do for you to be quiet?"

"I already told you, you owe me."

You open your eyes just a little. "What could I possibly owe you? I don't like to drink, I don't keep money, not to mention I can't even tell if you're the type of man to be swayed by physical charms. What could I possibly offer you, Roronoa?"

"For starters, you can start referring to me by my name like everyone else does." He looks pissed. "You should fight me."

"You didn't take me seriously last time, Moss Head. Why would I bother trying again?"

He pulls on your ear. "I said like everyone else, not like how that idiot says my name."

You ignore him and bury your nose in his stomach. Dinner has been started, and if you don't ignore it you'll end up going to the kitchen early. It's less that Sanji minds seeing you, it's more of the fact that you struggle to suppress the urge to knock shit off the counter and dip your fingers in the sauces. Such is the life of someone like you.

You let yourself doze a little. You can still hear what's going on, but just like every common house cat, you ignore it. What you can't ignore is the gentle scratching behind your ears. As far as you remember, no one has done this since you were a kid. You don't hate the feeling, but you start to feel flustered over it. Ever since you left home, you've made sure affection comes at your own terms so you haven't had this in years.

There's no point in asking him to stop. You're clearly fond enough of him to nap on him, what's the big deal about getting ear scratches? Besides, he's the type to get embarrassed and loud if you point out you're awake. That's not something you feel like dealing with right now. You're too touch starved to complain.

Despite the comfortable conditions, you don't actually fall asleep. You spend the next forty-ish minutes pretending to sleep, waiting for dinner to be done. The time passes by relatively quickly, though you're sore afterwards. You couldn't bring yourself to even twitch, worried that he'd stop.

The dinner call goes off, and you pretend to wake up. You have no clue why you're acting, but it was too late to stop twenty minutes ago. Standing up, you stretch halfheartedly. At first, he doesn't say anything. It's only once he catches up to you that he starts asking questions.

"What's the deal with the noise you make?"

Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. "I don't snore, so I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not stupid, I can tell you aren't snoring. The other noise, the one that's relaxing. I can usually feel it when you're laying directly on me."

"What do you mean? The other noise?" You pause to think it over before it clicks. "We aren't talking about that."

You know what he's referring to. It's not like it's something you can control, but it's still embarrassing. Of all people to be you around, it's been Zoro. No one on the crew has judged you for being what you are, it's just embarrassing to be a mix. Your mother's human, and your dad's a mink. You look decently human, just with a few quirks.

"What do you mean, we aren't talking about it? We're talking about it right now."

Your face starts to heat up. "I mean I don't want to tell you."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why not? Is it supposed to be embarrassing or something?"

"If I say yes, will you drop it?"

"Yeah, sure."

His face instantly relaxes. If you could smack him, you would. The last time you tried, it hurt. So you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a push. The only thing it does is cause his other shoulder to hit the doorframe, but you use it to march past him.

You take your seat, leaning back against the armrest of the booth seat. Kicking your feet up on the space next to you, you watch the crew carefully. Everyone is smiling and in a good mood, so you don't have anything to worry about. You don't ever admit it, but you care about them even if it's difficult to show.

Zoro picks up your legs and lays them in his lap. Since it doesn't seem to bother him, you're tempted to just sit normally. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, and you doubt he does either. However, you actually do enjoy touching him, so you'll stay like this for now.

There's more commotion as Sanji brings out the plates. The one you're most interested in is a large tuna fillet that gets set in the middle of the table. You can't stop staring at it, the tender flesh a beautiful golden color. It's hard to tell if it smells better than it looks or looks better than it smells. Sanji has never failed to impress you with his dishes, so you can't wait to sink your teeth in.

Before you can even start to load your plate, Sanji sets a small plate in front it you. It contains a disk of packed rice, some avocado slices, and chunks of fish. You're assuming it's more of the tuna. Whatever it is, it was made specifically for you.

You don't mind the special dishes. You'll try almost everything, and unlike Luffy, you'll eat it slow enough to give a review. Everything tastes good so you don't get the point, but it probably makes Sanji feel better to have honest reviews and not just someone who loves food fawning over his cooking. Though if you're not careful, you worry that he'll start having write an essay about it.

"And for you, a special tune tartare! If you like it, I'll make it again for everyone some time."

You nod. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I always do. Not that you've ever made a bad dish."

You can't stop the tip of your tail from flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. By the time you get halfway through the tartare, all of the fillet is gone. It's not like it's the biggest deal, you just wish you could've had some of that too. It's not fair that since you got a special tuna dish, that you don't get the other one.

"If you tell me what that noise was, I'll share," Zoro teases while pointing at you with a bite of tuna. "I bet you can't resist answering now."

"I'm a cat. I was making a normal noise that cats make. Consider it a compliment."

You lean forward and take the bite of tuna. It's flakey and melts on your tongue with a slightly sticky glaze that has hints of honey and garlic. You lick your lips savoring the balance of flavors. None of them are overwhelming, but it's hard to gauge in just one bite what you think about it.

"You can't just," Zoro stutters. "You can't just take the food off of my chopsticks. Get your own!"

You grab his wrist and lick the glaze off of the chopsticks. It feels like there's another flavor there that you can't quite tell what it is. It's some sort of herby flavor, that while you enjoy, you can't pin down.

"Here!" Zoro doesn't look at you as he shoves his plate towards you. "Just take it since I don't want your germs."

You want to tease him, but you'll leave him alone. It's better to leave it in front of other people since Robin's insinuations are becoming too much. For now you'll just eat the food. Later, you'll tease him.

—-

"You're still not taking me seriously, Roronoa. Why did you want to fight if you won't take me seriously?"

You lunge, hand reaching for his throat. He blocks it with his arm, causing your claws to dig into his skin. Using his arm as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him, swinging your sword at his side. His parry is effortless, and he looks bored. It's so aggravating that he won't take you seriously in a simple sparring match. Perhaps he'd take you more seriously if you actually tried to kill him.

You disengage before leaping over him. This time, you swing your sword at his neck as he turn around. It's once more blocked, and he smirks. You're just barely faster than him as he takes a halfhearted swing at your sword arm with his other arm. You catch the flat of the blade with your knuckles, steeling your arm against the shock wave of the blow.

Kicking your leg out in front of you, you aim for his knees, intending to bring him down. Despite the grip on his sword, he catches your ankle in his hand and pulls your leg to the side. You let your body pivot with the movement, twisting until your leg is behind you. You yank your foot forward as hard as you can, pulling him into your back.

He's quick to let your ankle go and grab your shoulder to steady himself. In a fluid motion, you swing your arm and grab your dagger. You flick it in your fingers and thrust towards his ribs. His hand trails down your arm to your wrist and pins it behind your back. He gives it a squeeze trying to get you to drop the dagger.

"Are you actually trying to kill him?" Nami tells from the side. "Are you stupid?"

You roll your eyes, sweeping your leg behind you and hooking Zoro's. Despite your efforts, you can't get him off balance, only causing him to take a step back. By now you're getting pissed off. You aren't a bad swordsman, it's just that this jerk is ridiculously smart in battle. This is probably the only time he'll use his brain all day.

You jerk your head back, hitting his jaw. The sound of the impact makes you regret it, knowing you'll feel like shit later. You manage to free yourself as he loosens his grip, and you elbow him as you twist back around. The only reason you're still going is because he won't take it seriously. It's like he finds it funny that he's able to fend you off so easily.

You rush towards him, tossing your weapons to the ground. Digging your claws into his shoulders, you use your momentum to knock him over. It only works because he's too busy rubbing his jaw to notice you in time. The two of you tumble to the deck, and you lean in as close as you can.

"Why won't you take me seriously? Is this just a game?"

Faster than you can blink, he's able to flip and pin you under him. He's even more smug than the last time you sparred, and you can't tell if you want to smack him or if you should kiss him. Not that you could smack him, he's got your hands above your head. While kissing him would let you win, you're not willing to fight that dirty in a friendly match.

"You're a brute, Zoro. You can't just manhandle the other crewmates just because you feel like it." Sanji pulls him off you. "If you were in the mood to fight I would've taken the offer."

You tune out their fight as Chopper checks your head and shoulder. You're a bit sore now, but you'll be fine in a few hours. Nothing keeps you down for long, even if it's usually just you going against the doctor's orders. The only thing actually bothering you is the fact that for a moment you thought he was going to answer your question. Though the fact you thought about kissing him is also an issue.

It's not difficult to figure out why you thought that way. Your parents made sure that you knew to find someone strong enough to protect you in case of something happening, even if you knew how to take care of yourself. That, and he's easy on the eyes. Even if he's an idiot half of the time, that doesn't matter. Your parents never said to find a smart man, just a strong one. Everything else was your choice.

Chopper hands you a damp towel, and you use to clean under your claws. Tiny spots of blood rest under them, probably from when you grabbed Zoro. If the pinprick wounds bothered him, he doesn't show it. He's too busy trying to shove Sanji off the boat. As long as you stay dry, it doesn't matter if they end up overboard. They can both swim.

After a few minutes, Nami separates them. You watch her glare at the men before you stalk off to take another nap. The sun is just starting to dip below the water, so finding a nice patch of sun to lick your figurative wounds isn't possible. You'll have to settle for sulking in some weird spot. Perhaps it's time to torment the fish in the tank once more.

Lounging on the sofa is probably the second best place to nap. The sound of the tank constantly humming while you watch the fish swim in tempting circles puts you at ease. You stretch out fully, let your arm and tail hang off the edge. The tip of your tails twitches slightly as you trace the movement of a particularly large bass. That should be tomorrow's lunch, perhaps in a stew. Even though it hasn't been long since you had food, your mouth starts to water at the idea of seafood stew.

"He really doesn't take you seriously, does he?"

You recognize Robin before she even speaks. Her stride is longer than Nami's with her steps being lighter than everyone else's. Not to mention she smells floral. It's never overpowering, but it allows you to pick her out from the crew.

"I guess not. Maybe I should've gone for his other eye."

She laughs, sitting down next to you. You aren't opposed to the company, especially if it's Robin. There something about her that puts you at ease.

"I don't think he'd like that," she muses. "What did he say to you?"

You scoff. "He didn't say anything. Bet he's too proud to take me seriously, like the jerk he is."

Robin smiles knowingly. "I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe you should talk to him, just the two of you. I'm sure he'd tell you when no one else is around."

You frown. "What is he? A shy school boy? There's only one reason for not taking me seriously in a fight, and it would be him not thinking I'm even worth it. No point in having him tell me that in private, he can just keep it to himself."

She reaches out her hand, gently brushing your hair from your eyes. "Then what do you think about him?"

"I think he's an idiot who swapped out his brain for more muscles."

"Let me rephrase that. What feelings do you have about him?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "At least figure that out."

You shift so you can place your head in her lap. "I guess he's fine most of the time. I don't know why I enjoy his company, I just do. He's never really pushed me on anything, just sort of letting me do my own thing. Not to mention he's comfortable. As much as I hate admitting it, I suppose I like being around him."

She continues to brush your hair with her fingers silently. It's one of those tactics of hers. She'll stay quiet until you keep talking.

"What do you want me to say? He's nice enough to me, I can respect him as vice-captain, and he's decent looking. Everything else I think about him is my little secret." You're starting to get irritated talking about him. "Actually, I think I'll go talk to him now. I'll drag that answer out of him if I have to."

Robin looks at you with worry as you sit up. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. What are you going to do if his answer isn't what you expect?"

"I'll deal with it when it happens," you say with a shrug. "It's not like it'll be anything surprising."

You take your time wandering around the ship. It's not hard to tell where he is, you'd rather put it off for a little bit longer. This weird feeling in your chest has been bothering you a lot lately. It can't be ignored anymore, but that doesn't mean you're one hundred percent ready to admit it.

Thankfully, he's exactly where you knew he was. You won't tell him that you enjoy finding him when he's working out. Something about him being shirtless is nice. Not that he usually bothers with wearing a shirt, so you can usually just stare whenever you want. Maybe he just likes the attention, and you'll gladly give it to him.

As soon as he leans back on the bench, you sit on his lap and stretch out over his torso. You rest your chin on your hand, pressing your palm on his chest. Watching as he sets the barbell back on the stand, you wait for him to start talking. It would be fine with you if he kept working out, but he seems opposed to the idea.

"Is bothering me amusing to you?"

You tilt your head slightly. "You're not cute when you're mad, so no. I was just hoping we could talk."

"You don't have to sit on me to talk."

"That's just personal preference. Besides, you tend to avoid talking about certain things and this keeps you from leaving." you say with a Cheshire grin. "I enjoy your touch, so this is ideal for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoro looks away from you. “You keep saying weird stuff.”

You don’t even blink as you respond, “I enjoy your touch. That’s what that means. I’ll even be nice and tell you the answer to your question from earlier. As a cat, I sometimes purr when I feel comfortable and content. Though some cats purr when scared.”

“So you’re scared of me? Is that what that means?”

“No. The only thing particularly scary about you is the fact that you’re an idiot.” Your ears twitch. “But since I answered your questions, you can answer mine. Why don’t you fight me seriously?”

He looks at you for just a moment, before looking at the ceiling. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the answer and is hoping you’ll forget about it. However, you’ve already made up your mind about what you want. You’re just waiting to see what he’ll do.

“I-,” Zoro cuts himself off to hide behind his hand. “I could hurt you really bad. That would be bad.”

Your tail swishes on the ground in mild irritation. “So you think I’m incapable of defending myself. That would explain the times you’ve interrupted my fights.”

“It’s not that!” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don’t tumble to the ground. “I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m around. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

You’re nose to nose with him now. Even at this distance, he can’t seem to make eye contact. You can smell the liquor from dinner on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss him, but for some reason the thought makes you nervous. You’re usually close to him, so why is this time different?

“Why should you keep me safe?” you mumble. “Do you save me out of obligation for the crew? If so, aren’t there better people on the crew to swoop in and save?”

“Does it matter why?” The way that his lips almost touch yours as he speaks makes you flustered.

You close your eyes. “Yes. I don’t want to get my hopes up if you think of me as nothing more than a burden of a crew-mate. Just be honest with me for once, Zoro.”

You don’t regret the soft begging tone as you say his name. You regret not saying his name in that almost pathetic tone sooner. The way that he kisses you makes your head spin. Even though he’s holding you close, you have to wrap your arms around his neck to make yourself feel more steady.

Zoro kisses you like he’s been wanting to for months. His hold on your waist makes it impossible to move, and the way that his hand grips yours hair makes you moan. You can barely breathe as his tongue explores your mouth, your grip on reality slipping as his fingers dig into thigh.

Even when he pulls away to let you breathe, you find yourself lost in the way he touches you. Sloppy kisses trail down your jaw and neck, coming to an end with his teeth on your collarbone. The way that his fingernails scrape gently against your scalp as he tugs lightly on your hair causes you to expose more of your chest to him as you lean into his palm.

You’ve never felt like this before. Hot, heavy, and breathless all while being lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it in you to resist him if he wanted more. In fact, the pathetic words of begging him to ravish you weigh heavy on your tongue. Yet he just continues to press kisses along every inch of skin exposed to him, ignoring how hard you’re panting as little moans escape you. He’s oblivious to everything but the act of kissing you.

Zoro only pauses after you tug his hair harshly. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help the reaction to him biting down on the side of your neck. You couldn’t even help the strangled groan that leaves you as he leaves a mark. For some reason, your body is shaking like you have some sort of withdrawal.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough and low.

You kiss him again, desperate to get as close as you can. Desperation courses through your body as you realize just how badly you’ve waited for this. You’ve spent months being almost attached to him so it makes sense, you just can’t figure out how you missed it. The long nights spent curled up in his lap, face buried in his neck has left you craving him so much.

You whine as he pulls away, unwilling to let this stop. It doesn’t even matter anymore how prideful you’ve been up until this. It’s so obvious how much you want him. Nothing could hide it anymore.

“Zoro.” You don’t even open your eyes. “Please.”

He gives your thigh a tight squeeze as you whimper. You can tell that what little restraint he has is fading with each whine of his name. Yet he’s able to pause and hold you close, breathing heavily into your ear. Eventually, he covers your mouth with his hand, stifling your words.

“Not like this,” Zoro says, his tone meaning he’s serious. “If you really want it, I want to make it special.”

“S-special?” You don’t know what that means. When was the last time someone told you that you were special? “How?”

“Just better than in the exercise room on the Sunny. You deserve to be treated better than that.”

You nod, and he lets his grip loosen. Despite the fact that nothing much happened, you feel drained. Maybe it’s because you really enjoy naps, but the exhaustion is hitting you hard. You don’t hide it, letting yourself go limp as Zoro picks you up.

“You can sleep in my bunk tonight. Not that it matters if I say you can as you usually show up anyway.”

You caress him jaw before giving his cheek a kiss. “Thank you, Zoro.”

The flush on his cheeks goes unnoticed by all beside you. Not that it matters, you don’t want to hide your feelings for him any longer. If he agrees to it, you’ll parade your feelings for the world to see.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Would It Be Weird?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a night of drinking, you and your friends stumble across a fire station crawling with firemen. One of them catches your eye, and your friends try their damnest to get you two together. It’s been a long time for you but maybe Dean Winchester will change all of that.

Square Filled: stranger au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“Bartender! One more round!” your best friend, Shelly, calls out.

Despite being busy for the night, the bartender refills more shot glasses and hands them over one by one. After the week you just had, you deserve to have a night out for celebrations. Hard work pays off, and your boss promoted you to a manager with a significant pay raise, and Shelly just got engaged. That is enough to call for a celebratory night out with friends.

“So, have you decided on a maid of honor?” you ask Shelly when she returns to the table.

“You, of course. Better do a good job or else I’m asking my sister to do it.”

“Hey, don’t insult me. You know I love planning a good party,” you grin.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married! This is so surreal! Janice, when is Parker going to ask you to marry him? You’ve been together, what, six years?”

“We’re taking it slow. We don’t mind,” she shrugs. “Don’t come at me without coming after Tina. The other day, I caught her and Ben doing it on the kitchen counter.”

“Tina!” you gasp with a smile.

“I can’t help it. We’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“You got married three years ago.”

“No kids make the honeymoon phase last forever,” she laughs.

“So we’re all in relationships except for Y/N,” Shelly smirks. “When are you going to let a man ruffle those perfect feathers?”

“Shelly,” you grit out.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the only one out of us who isn’t in a relationship. You’ve been single for half a decade now.”

It’s true. The last relationship you were in just didn’t do it for you. You stayed with him for three years because you thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn't make your skin hot and clammy. He didn’t make you weak in the knees. But being with him was better than being alone.

You know better now. Being single doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. You have a wonderful job, loving parents, funny siblings, and wonderful friends. You like being single, but there are times when you wonder if there is more for you out there than meaningless sex and hookups.

“Despite what you might think, I’m happy where I am.”

“Nope, don’t accept it. We’re going to set you up tonight. Girls, do you see potential matches?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” you sigh.

Your friends chatter amongst themselves as they seek out potential matches for you while you sit there like a bum on a log. You can’t be too mad at them. They want to see you happy. Plus, they might actually find your next love. Despite their best efforts, they don’t find anyone worth your time, but you do get free drinks by flirting with men.

By two in the morning, you and your friends stumble out of the bar in laughter. Your home is a few blocks away so you’re okay with walking back to your place even though you drove there.

“We’ll come back for my car tomorrow. Right now, all I want is pizza. I have some in my freezer,” you say.

You’re not so drunk that you can’t walk straight or you’re slurring your words but you are drunk enough not to be able to drive. Your friends, on the other hand, are more far gone than you are. Shelly is a giggle drunk, Tina is a loud drunk, and Janice is a sexual drunk. You’re a mom drunk, always trying to take care of those around you. It’s why you’re less drunk than they are. Someone has to be the responsible one.

“Let’s stop there!” Tina gasps loudly.

She points to a firehouse that has the garage doors open to let in the cool night are. Inside are about half a dozen firemen, all with big muscles and tight clothing. Your friends are already walking over to the station with you trailing behind.

“Hey, ladies. What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” one of the men asks.

“The bar just closed and we’re not done with our party,” Shelly grins. “We go every Friday night.”

“Why aren’t the firefighters in my distract as hot as you guys are?” Janice giggles.

You step into the station and immediately become sober when you lock eyes with forest green eyes. All the air is knocked out of your lungs, your body becomes warm with tingles, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shelly notices the look in your eyes and nudges Janice with a smirk.

“I’m Dean,” Green Eyes says.

“Y/N,” you smile back.

“What’s the party for, ladies?”

“I just got engaged,” Shelly grins and shows off her ring to them. “Y/N just got a promotion.”

“What for?” Dean asks.

“To be a manager. It’s more money and I’m in charge of a lot of employees.”

“I hope you’re a good boss.”

“A very good one,” you smile.

“Do you have any alcohol?” Tina asks.

She stumbles forward and knocks into you. You fall forward and end up in Dean’s lap. He’s leaning against one of the trucks, and he easily catches you in his strong arms. There go the butterflies again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. It got you in my arms,” he flirts.

You turn in his arms but he doesn’t let go of you. In fact, he wraps his arm around your chest. Shelly sees the blush on your cheeks and is mentally doing backflips at the thought of you finding your one.

“No, alcohol. Sorry.”

“Y/N, you have some. Let’s go to your place,” Janice says.

“We were heading there when you guys wanted to stop here and talk to the nice men.”

You look past your friends and notice the firefighter pole in the corner, and you gasp happily.

“You have a pole! I’ve always wanted to go down one,” you grin. “Can I?”

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” Dean chuckles. “How are you guys getting home?”

“Walking. I live a few blocks away. We drove here but my car is going to be parked at the bar all night.”

“Let me drive you girls just make sure you make it home okay.”

“That sounds amazing. We’d love a ride,” Shelly says before you can say anything. “Can we take the firetruck?”

“Do you want to take the firetruck?” Dean asks.

You pull away slightly and look into his eyes. How are they so green? Damn, his parents must have great genes.

“Sure,” you giggle.

“Don’t let the Captain catch you,” one of Dean’s friends smirks.

“Don’t tell him and he won’t know. We’re taking the truck, ladies. Hop in.”

Your friends whoop and cheer as they climb into the truck, and Dean helps you into the front. Instead of driving them all home, he just takes them to your house. It’s a short ride but you feel more sober now than you did when you first arrived at the bar. There's something about Dean that makes you want to remember the night. You want to wake up tomorrow and remember how green his eyes are.

Your friends pile out of the truck and stumble to your front door. You toss Shelly your keys so that they can go inside while you hang back with Dean for a few minutes alone with him.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You open the door and hop out, but Dean doesn’t drive away like you thought he was going to do. Instead, he rolls down the window so he can get a better view of you walking to your house. A man who waits for you to enter your house? That’s a man you want.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls out.

“Bye, Dean.”

Only when he sees you walk inside does he drive off. Dean hasn’t left your mind since that night, even after a week of grueling work in the office. As a new manager, you’re expected to do more work and manage more than half a dozen employees. It’s what you signed up for, but you didn’t realize just how much of your energy it was going to cost you.

By Friday night, you and your friends went to the same club to unwind. This time, you didn't drive to the club because you don’t ever want to leave your car here again. Reports of cars being broken into came from the bar. Luckily, yours was left alone but it was enough to scare you from keeping it here again.

“So, what happened with fireman Dean?” Shelly asks with a grin. “Did you kiss him?”

“Shelly! No,” you laugh. “He just gave us a ride. That’s it. I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should go back and get it for you,” Tina smirks.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

This time, you don’t drink as much as your friends because you’re kind of hoping to run into Dean again. You want to remember every interaction with him as you can, and you figure you can always drink at your house. Time flies when you’re having fun and before you know it, it’s already two in the morning. You and your friends pile out of the bar but pause when you see the shiny red fire truck waiting outside.

“Hey, ladies. Want a ride?” Dean grins.

“Dean, hi,” you smile.

The girls giggle to themselves at the starstruck look in your eyes. Thankfully, they don’t comment on it.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean,” Shelly grins.

The girls take their seats in the back while you’re still standing on the sidewalk. You take two steps toward Dean and end up tripping over your own two feet. Dean is quick with his reflexes and catches you before you faceplant onto the concrete.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, who would have caught you?”

“No one,” you blush.

“Exactly. Now I have to be here every time to catch you.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, Dean takes off toward Shelly’s house. You give him directions to each of their houses until you’re the only one left.

“Thank you for driving us all home.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

You spot a Sharpie in one of the cup holders so you grab it and grab Dean’s right hand. You write down your number in big numbers so he can’t miss it.

“Call me next time you want to pick me up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You lean over and kiss Dean’s cheek before leaving the fire truck. He watches you with a slight smirk, only driving away once he knows you’re safe inside your house. This becomes a routine for you and Dean. He’s always there outside the club with the fire truck, ready to drive you and your friends home. One time, you had an Uber all set up but Dean refused to let you take it. Your friends are having a field day with this. They tease you about your new fireman boyfriend even though you and Dean aren’t dating.

Could you two be? Sure. He hasn’t asked you out nor have you asked him out, and you two have never kissed. You’re flirting, dancing around the edges of what could be. It’s enough for you right now even though it wouldn’t be so terrible to date him. It’s fun to have a sexy stranger waiting for you.

One Friday night, you’re the designated DD since you have to help your brother move tomorrow. Being the only one sober is hilarious knowing how raunchy your friends can get.

“So, when are you going to fuck him?” Shelly asks.

“It’s not like that. He’s just giving us rides.”

“I bet you’d like to ride him,” Janice giggles. Your entire face goes hot, and she laughs at the look on your face. “Look how red she is! You like him!”

“Drink your drink, okay?”

Throughout the night, all you can think about is Dean and how good he’d look on top of you or beneath you. Curse your friends and their no-filter mouths. By the time two rolls around, you’re leaving the club with your friends. Dean is standing outside near his truck like he’s always done the past few months.

“I’m the DD tonight.” You hold up your key. “No drinking for me.”

“When are you going to fuck her?” Tina asks loudly. “Because it’s been a long time for her.”

“Tina!” you hiss and look at Dean. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “but I am driving you all home. You can call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you back here.”

“Why would you do that? It seems like a hassle.”

“It’s no problem.”

The girls hop into the back while you take the front, as per usual, and Dean starts the drive to Shelly’s house. While he’s driving, you can’t help but stare at him. He has such a great side profile. His jaw is strong and sharp, and he has a delicious amount of facial hair. Not too long but enough to feel the burn on your skin. Dean side-eyes you and smirks knowing you’re watching him.

“Want to turn the sirens on?”

“Yeah! Turn them on!”

“Can I?” you ask with a grin.

Dean shows you the button to press, and you flip the switch. The sirens go off and the lights flash rapidly, and your friends cheer and shout. Dean turns them off before someone thinks there is a real emergency. Dean stops at your house once all your friends are gone, but you don’t rush to get out.

“Thank you for driving them home. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. I like driving you home.”

Now that you’re sober, you can feel the tension between you two. This is going to be something you deal with another time, so you lean over and kiss his cheek like you’ve been doing.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You get out of the truck and feel his eyes on you the whole time. Instead of going inside, you stop by your front door just staring at it. What the hell are you doing? There is obvious chemistry between you two. Are you really just going to ignore it and wait for someone else to snatch him up?

“Y/N?” Dean calls from the truck. When you don’t turn around, he gets out and lightly jogs over to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why did you drive me home?” You turn to face him. “Now I have to go back to the club to get my car.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Not in the truck, unfortunately.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You were drinking tonight.”

“I was the DD. Why did you drive me and all my friends home?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would it be weird if I told you I look forward to Friday nights knowing I get to see your smile?”

“No,” you mumble with a blush. “Would it be weird if I told you I only go to the club on Friday nights knowing you’re out there waiting for me?”

Dean steps closer to you with a smile. “No. Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?”

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Dean pulls you into him and kisses you. It’s like how every romance author describes a first kiss. Sparks fly, euphoria flows through the veins, and you can’t ever see yourself kissing anyone else.

x

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[meazalykov]

first day in wolfsburg

lynn wilms x reader series

last chapter - next chapter

chapter one

the apartment is quiet. too quiet. 

you stand in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, taking in the emptiness around you. the walls are bare, the furniture non-existent except for the essentials. your bed sits in the bedroom, hastily assembled hours earlier. your clothes hang neatly in the closet, and the fridge is stocked with just enough food to get by for the week.

it’s your first day in wolfsburg, and everything feels unfamiliar. things were warm and cozy in north london, but now you have a new place to get used to.

you sink onto the mattress, the only piece of furniture offering any comfort, and let out a deep sigh. the silence presses down on you. 

no gio with her endless banter, since she is back home in madrid happy to be with her old club. 

no vivianne with her steady, calming presence. just you in a city that already feels too far away from everything you’ve ever known. 

you miss both of your closest teammates from arsenal, its stings that they are not your teammates anymore.

after a moment, you grab your phone and scroll aimlessly, considering messaging either of them but what would you say? 

i miss you already? they’re probably busy settling into their own new chapters. gio’s likely wandering the streets of madrid, back in love with her childhood club, while vivianne is probably training with her new teammates at manchester city. 

you put your phone down and stare at the ceiling. it’s going to take time to feel like this is home. for now, all you want to do is stay here, wrapped in the safety of your own little bubble.

the wolfsburg training facility looms ahead, sleek and modern against the backdrop of a cloudy morning. your heart pounds as you step out of the car, clutching your bag tightly. you’d spent the past few days quietly, trying to process the whirlwind of the signing, press pictures, and your first interview with the club’s media team. 

today feels different. more real. it’s your first day with the team.

inside the locker room, you hesitate at the door. the sound of voices and laughter filters out, warm and inviting but still intimidating. they all know each other, you’re the new one. you take a deep breath and step in. 

heads turn as the door clicks shut behind you, and for a moment, you feel every set of eyes on you.

then a familiar voice breaks the silence. 

“y/n! finally, you’re here!”

you turn to see sveindís smiling at you, her energy as infectious in person as it is on social media. relief washes over you. you don’t know her well, but her posts and interactions have always been friendly.

“hey,” you say, managing a small smile as you pull yourself into her hug. 

“nice to finally meet you in person.”

she bounds over, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back to introduce you to the others. 

“everyone, this is y/n. our new superstar signing, she comes from arsenal.”

you roll your eyes, playfully, at her playful tone but appreciate the effort to make you feel welcome. 

“hi, i’m svenja,” says one of the older players, her voice warm. 

“and this is alex.” she gestures to alexandra popp, who steps forward with a grin.

“welcome to wolfsburg,” alex says, her hug firm but comforting. 

“we’re glad you chose us.”

“thank you,” you reply, feeling some of the tension ease. 

“i’m happy to be here.”

“good,” alex says, her grin widening. 

“because we’re excited to have you.”

before you can respond, sveindís tugs your arm. 

“come on, i have to introduce you to someone.”

you let her lead you across the room, stopping in front of a tall blonde with sharp features and an easy smile. 

“y/n, this is lynn. lynn, y/n.”

“oh my goodness, y/n!! viv was telling me about you,” lynn says immediately, her tone light and friendly.

you blink, momentarily caught off guard. 

“oh, yeah. she mentioned you, too.”

lynn’s smile softens, and you feel your stomach flip unexpectedly. she’s stunning, but you quickly push that thought aside. 

it’s your first day. you can’t afford to let your mind wander like that. 

“i hope she said good things,” lynn teases.

“all good,” you reply, managing to smile back. 

“good. let me know if you need anything,” lynn says before turning back to her locker. 

you exhale quietly, grateful to have gotten through that interaction without embarrassing yourself.

fenna and lineth come and hug you as well, two dutch players who were told good things about you, from vivianne.

an hour later, training starts with light warm-ups and passing drills, giving you a chance to get a feel for the team’s rhythm. everything feels sharper, faster, compared to what you were used to at arsenal. 

it’s exhilarating and overwhelming all at once.

when it’s time to pair up for a passing exercise, you hesitate, expecting to be partnered with one of the assistant coaches. before you can step forward, sveindís speaks up.

“y/n, you’re with lynn.”

your head snaps up. 

“oh, i can—”

“don’t worry,” lynn cuts in with a small smile. 

“i’ve got you.”

you nod, trying not to overthink it as you move to stand across from her. the exercise begins, and you quickly fall into a rhythm. lynn’s passes are precise, her movements fluid. 

it’s easy to see why she’s such a key player for both wolfsburg and the dutch national team.

“you’re good,” lynn says after a particularly quick exchange. 

“arsenal trained you well.”

“thanks,” you reply, feeling a bit of pride creep in despite yourself. 

“you’re not so bad either.”

the woman two years older than you laughs, the sound light and genuine. 

“not so bad? i’ll take it.”

as the session progresses, the two of you find a groove. you take your roles seriously, but there’s an ease between you that makes it fun. 

at one point, lynn fakes a pass, causing you to stumble slightly. you didn’t fall on the ground, thankfully, but you laugh as you sit your hands on your knees.

“really?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“what?” she asks with a grin.

by the end of the session, you’re sweating and tired, but there’s a lightness in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long time. 

you walk off the pitch and take a glance at lynn, who’s chatting with some of the other players. you can’t help but smile.

wolfsburg already feels different. better. for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel nervous or scared about training. 

the coaches are firm but fair, in contrast to jonas, and your teammates seem genuinely supportive. 

there’s lynn too. 

you push the thought aside again as you step into the locker room. today was a good day. you’ll let yourself enjoy it without overanalyzing. 

part two here

[daisy-01-blog]

Flipped! (Suguru Geto x fem! reader) 

Contains: light angst with happy ending, fluff (wow surprising for me). Take place in college. Dramatic Geto. Title is self-explanatory.

“And then, you should see the look on her face when I said it’s a birthday party surprise. She’s tearing up! it’s like no one ever surprised her before!” 

Suguru Geto didn’t hate a lot of things, and if he’s honest he didn’t hate you (much), but if he can pay to make you shut your mouth then he would. 

It started in the first year, he helped you when you bumped into him and then fell down. He offers his hand for you as you take it. Since that day you never leave him even once, now you two are in your second year. 

It was nice at first, you’re very pretty. But you talked too much-he never said something about it but maybe he should. Today his head is feeling dizzier than usual and he can’t help but utter “hey” he said “keep it down a bit please” 

You look surprised but not offended. You didn’t ask if he’s feeling well and he didn’t know what he should feel about that. 

“Hey (y/n)” someone muttered “a junior is calling you” 

Ever since that day, you stopped going to him like you usually did. After the class ended instead of following him around like a puppy as usual-you went to the junior you met yesterday. 

He didn’t say anything about it. This is what he wants, you’re listening to him. It’s good. 

It’s not. 

It has only been a few days, but he swears he’s going insane. His headache got even worse than usual and you’re not here to talk about some random things. 

He can’t deny it anymore, he missed you. 

As the class started, he stared at you who sits in front of him. Maybe he should apologize, he was rude after all. He didn’t mean it. He would rather die than never hear your ramblings again. 

He loves you, and he felt like an idiot realizing it just now when you distance yourself from him. 

He frowns as he stares at your retreating self. He has to do something.

He stares from afar as you talk with the junior, gritting his teeth. He’s a lot more handsome than him. Why do you settle for someone less? 

When the junior starts holding your hand-he can’t take it anymore. He went to you and him as he stared at you. 

“We need to talk,” he said to you. 

Your eyes widened but you nodded nevertheless. 

*** 

“Why are you suddenly so far away from me?” he asked you as he held your hands. Your eyes widen “I-” 

“I missed you” he said softly “I missed your ramblings, and your stupid nickname. You can call me anything you want, only if you stay around me” he sighed. 

“Suguru-” 

“Call me Geto” he whines dramatically “please, is he more handsome than me? What type of guy do you like? I will-” 

“Geto” you sighed “he’s my cousin” 

He paused, “what?” 

“I’m not leaving you” you muttered “I already messaged you, saying I wouldn’t be around you for like five days?” you said “since I have to talk to my cousin and tell him what I know, also showing him around the place” you muttered. 

He checks his phone, smiling sheepishly when he sees it’s on do not disturb mode “oh…” he mutters, baffled. 

You chuckle “you act like I’m cheating on you, we’re not even dating” 

He holds your hand “I want us to date” 

Your eyes widen “what?” 

He smiles “I realized how much you meant for me when you’re not around” he mutters “I love you” 

You smiled back “I love you too” you mutter softly “guess I should be gone more often” 

He pouts as you laugh. 

***

The next day, you’re rambling to Geto again as he listens to you adoringly this time. 

He wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

[chuuyaspinkmotorcycle]

Day 27: Corruption

Fuckkkk, Chuuya won’t miss the last time he has to use Corruption.

…/If/ that ever happens.

The amount of threats that actually need him to use it are far and few between nowadays, especially with the addition of Shin Soukoku’s new attacks that don’t render one of them half-dead like Soukoku’s, but every so often some bad guy sweeps through town strong enough to even have him and Dazai being summoned to the scene together.

Chuuya swallows, trying not to hack up a lung when a blood clot from his earlier bloody nose seeps down his throat. His clothes are beyond ruined at this point and his arms are too tired so he doesn’t even try to cover his mouth. The brick wall he’s been propped against is tilting a little too dangerously – from an earlier attack by someone’s ability – for his comfort, but it’s not like he can do much about it.

If the bricks fall, he’ll stop them. Maybe. Probably.

He just wants to go home and sleep for at least a whole day.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there. I leave Chuuya for two seconds and he’s trying to die on me again,” Dazai placates like he’s some /dog/, jogging the last few steps to him. The brunet is wearing Chuuya’s hat on his head and the fingers of one of the redhead’s black gloves sticks out from his coat pocket. Chuuya wipes the side of his mouth, watching as Dazai pulls a water bottle from his coat’s other pocket and uncaps it before handing it to him. “Don’t drown yourself~”

“Says the mackerel.” His voice comes out raspy, barely audible but the smirk Dazai sends him tells him the brunet heard. He takes a slow sip, breathing out a sigh before chugging as much as his body will let him.. Water has never felt as good as the times after Corruption, when his voice is scratched raw and just breathing is a chore for his windpipe. Clearing his throat to test it, he asks, “How much longer?”

“We’re free to go,” Dazai responds, waiting in front of him with his hands in his pockets. “Mori-san took your coat and has graciously given you a few days off as a reward for being such a loyal dog.”

Also known as ‘Dazai asked therefore Mori approved’ because God forbid Boss says no to ‘the Mafia’s final executive to come.’ As if that’s ever gonna happen.

Dazai’s smirk twists into that one that tells Chuuya he read his mind just then. “Chibi’s cranky.”

The redhead scowls back. “No shit, Sherlock. Hurry up and carry me already.”

“So feisty~ How does the pretty princess want to be carried?” Dazai squats in front of him, leaning within arms’ reach of Chuuya.

“I’m not– honestly, fuck you,” Chuuya grumbles, not even bothering to punch the other. “Do whatever you want, you shitty bastard.”

Of course, Dazai has the audacity to beam at this, already moving to adjust Chuuya into whatever way he wants. He swears he even hears a little giggle from the brunet as he shifts one of Chuuya’s legs.

It’s going to be a long walk back home.

Chuuya hisses as Dazai, still facing him, goes to move one of his arms behind his bandaged neck, the muscle pulling in a way that sears too much to be considered uncomfortable. “Wait–!”

“Where?”

“Bicep, close to delt,” he grits out, forcing himself to breathe as the knot or whatever is wrong with his arm continues to flare. Dazai points at the location given, dead-on in his accuracy. Chuuya manages to nod, watching as nimble fingers find the perfect spot to apply the right amount of pressure in massaging caresses that have shivers running down his spine.

He sucks in a breath when Dazai’s finger moves in just  the right way to alleviate most of the pain in one go. After Chuuya releases a shaky sigh, Dazai looks up. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

Dazai returns to maneuvering him into the right position, wrapping Chuuya’s bloodied arms around his neck and scooping under his thighs. Dazai, right in his face, grins something young and fond. “Just like old times, partner.”

With that, he hoists them both up, Chuuya sinking further into his arms as Dazai steadies them. The pop Chuuya hears from his knee has him grimacing with a squint sent at Dazai, but the man doesn’t even stop to test if his scrawny bones can hold them up, instead marching forward in the direction of Chuuya’s apartment.

Fine. If Dazai wishes to play stubborn, then Chuuya doesn’t care (until Dazai either trips or his legs give out, that is).

With that thought, Chuuya settles in on Dazai’s shoulder, eyelids already drifting downwards.

They miraculously make it back to his apartment without Chuuya waking up, Dazai dropping him, or the both of them going splat on the concrete.

That’s a plus, Chuuya supposes.

If Dazai had tried this when they were around seventeen or eighteen, Chuuya’s sure one of them would have ended the night with a broken bone. The last time they had done this had to have been sometime after Corruption's first use, he realizes.

“Where does the slug wanna go?” Dazai asks as he fumbles with the door’s lock. Chuuya blinks his eyes open enough to do his security system’s retinal scan. There’s a click, a shuffle of clothes and doors, and the sounds of shoes hitting the genkan as Dazai pulls Chuuya’s off before taking off his own.

Chuuya hums. “Bed.”

“You’ll be mad if you wake up in a dirty bed.”

“Mornin’ problem.”

“So my problem,” Dazai huffs with a tsk.

Based on the twists and turns they’re taking, they’re heading towards the bedroom anyway. And just before Dazai can make it to the bed where Chuuya’s long desired rest awaits, the brunet swings to the left, eliciting a low whine from Chuuya as they head towards the attached bathroom.

“I know, I know,” Dazai starts, setting him on the counter to turn the sink’s faucet to hot as he grabs a hand towel. Chuuya continues to lean forward on his shoulder, forcing the man to stay in front of him. As the water heats up, Dazai starts prying the redhead’s bloodied clothes from his body. “We’ll take a bath tomorrow. Just a quick cleanup to get most of the blood off and then you can sleep to your heart’s content.”

Chuuya’s already beginning to doze off when he mumbles back, “With you.”

A pause, the shoulder beneath his head stiffening before it slowly comes to relax again. A bandaged hand comes up to rest at the back of Chuuya’s head as the faucet is shut off. “With me.”

Dazai makes quick work of wiping the dried blood from Chuuya’s face and body, delicate but precise, and afterwards in the bedroom dresses the redhead in his softest pajamas. Chuuya always runs cold after using Corruption so he takes precaution, even if it means there’s potential for Chuuya to wake up annoyed because he got too hot.

After tucking Chuuya in the bed – and far enough in the middle of it to guarantee the slippery slug doesn’t fall off of it with his hazardous sleeping positions – Dazai recleans the bathroom, removing his own bandages and clothes in the process.

He steals a pair of oversized pajamas that Chuuya claims he “accidentally bought and was too lazy to return,” then slips into bed beside the other.

When Chuuya wakes in the morning, it’s to warm arms and the sound of a heartbeat against his ear, beating in tandem with his own.

[literarystarfish]

“W-who are you?” The blindfold heightened Whumpee’s every other sense. Their own voice sounded too loud in their ears.

Not even the sharp metallic taste of blood in their mouth or the strain in their arms that were tied painfully tight behind them or the rough gravel digging into their knees where they had been forced to kneel could distract them from the sound of their captor.

Their shoes clacking against the ground in a slow, predatory circle the only thing they could focus on. The sounds echoed off the walls making it harder to focus on where the person was as they circled them like a predator.

Were they sat in the middle of a garage? A warehouse? It seemed like some kind of large, empty room. They hated that they could feel nothing around them but the cold draft sending shivers up their spine.

It was hard to tell how close or how far away their kidnapper was.

“You don’t remember me?” Whumpee froze.

Close. Their attacker was close. Too close. They hadn’t realized the sound of their footsteps were getting closer. The echoes and the blindfold cinched over their eyes and ears made it too difficult to pinpoint.

They stood right behind them. Their voice low in a terrifying whisper. “I’m a little saddened by that, Whumpee. How could you forget me?”

“Whumper…” they breathed in disbelief.

Whumper chuckled, sending a different kind of shiver through them. They tsked in that easy, teasing way they did when Whumpee had really pissed them off. Like they were hiding their real anger behind their calm. That was always when Whumper was most terrifying. If they were calm.

“After everything we’ve been through, you just forgot me? We’ve spent so much time together in the past. Hours and hours. You always seemed to love when I visited. You were always begging for more. Or… were you begging me to stop? You know, after a while it was hard to understand what you were saying at all. You always did have to work on your mumbling. Got you in quite a bit of trouble before.”

The easy threat sounded like death to Whumpee’s ears.

Perhaps they already were dead.

After all, Whumper was dead. Caretaker killed them when they had rescued them. Whumpee saw them die. Whumper can’t be here. They can’t have captured them again. Dragged them off to who knows where.

Maybe Whumpee had died in that attack on the street. It hadn’t been a blindfold over their eyes taking their sight before their vision had gone completely black. No, it was death taking them.

And they’ve met Whumper in hell.

It had to be.

Because…

Because…

“You-you’re supposed to be dead..”

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy to get rid of me, did you?”

“C-caretaker killed you! I-I saw you!”

“They managed to get a good hit, I must admit. Much better than a weakling like them had any business getting on someone like me. They had taken me off guard, though. But it was very… satisfying… to return the favor.”

Caretaker’s face flashed through their mind. Scrunched with anger and desperation and terror.

Beaten.

Bloody.

Being pulled away from them, kicking and screaming as two masked people jumped them. A third attacker getting a nasty hit on Whumpee, rattling their world as their arms were wrenched behind them and a blindfold covered their eyes.

Caretaker had been with them when Whumper had kidnapped them. Caretaker had been attacked too.

“NO! Caretaker! What did you do to them?!”

“My, my. You’ve certainly gotten bold in your time away from me. I don’t remember you being so… loud.”

“What. Did. You. Do to them?!” They ground out between clenched teeth.

“Pity. We’ll have to do something about that unruly behavior again,” Whumper sounded less than impressed. Their non-answer only spiked Whumpee’s anger more.

“WHERE ARE THEY!? What have you DONE to them?!” Their uncharacteristically strong voice echoed off the walls. Even being back in Caretaker’s hands for a while now, they had not felt this willful in years. Not since Whumper kidnapped them the first time.

“Nothing they can’t survive, I’m sure.” Whumpee could hear the scoff in Whumper’s voice. “Stubborn, that one. A real thorn in my side. I couldn’t really kill them though, as much as I’d have liked to. I simply incapacitated them for a while.”

Whumpee bristled despite their fear. Their voice dropped menacingly as they growled “Where are they?”

“Oh, that’s the good part! I had my guys take them back with them. I’m sure they’re keeping them safe.” Whumpee’s heart squeezed when they remembered Whumper’s two right-hand men. Ruthless and strong. And incredibly loyal to Whumper. Whumpee has plenty of scars to remind them of those two. ‘Safe’ was a relative term with them.

“I wanted some time alone with you. See how you’ve been since Caretaker took you from me.” Whumper gave a dramatic sigh. “I see they’ve taught you disobedience. I suppose I’ll have to beat it out of them too.”

“Don’t. Touch. Them.”

“No, no. That would ruin my plans. If I remember correctly, threatening them was a great way to keep you in line. Only now I don’t have to lie that I have them under my control in order to get what I want. In fact, I’m sure you’ll have front row seats to hear their screams if they’re in the cell next to you.”

“No! Don’t hurt them! You wanted me! You have me! Leave them alone!”

“Ohhh, now,” Whumper tsked again. “That wouldn’t be any fun. I think it’ll be quite interesting to see who I can get to break first. Especially if it’s to ‘protect the other’. What do you think, Whumpee?” Whumper chuckled, their voice light. Teasing. “What would you do to stop their screams? Hmm? What would Caretaker do to stop yours? Who will succumb to the pain first? Crying and screaming and begging? Who will be able to withstand it longer?”

Whumpee tried to pull away from the rough grip on their chin as their head was forced to look up at where they imagined Whumper’s angry, fiery eyes were glaring down at them but it didn’t budge. They could feel Whumper’s hot breath on their neck as they leaned closer to their ear, sending Whumpee’s back ramrod straight at the proximity.

Whumpee hated to admit it, but Whumper’s presence terrified them to their core. They kneeled on the hard, painful floor frozen except for their quick, sharp gasps of air. Vulnerable. Scared.

“My bet is on them.”

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 10

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

"Arthur, I don’t have time for this. Who ever Lindsay is, Maman knows what’s she’s doing…" Charles’s groaned, waving at the sea of fans that were waiting for them at the Whitleburry Hall hotel close to the track.

"Lauren. The girls name is Lauren." his little brother retorted, waving at some girls screaming his name.

"Whatever. It’s not something I need to think about as well, okay?" the Ferrari driver smiled at his fans, signing pictures of himself and taking selfie after selfie, when the security guards waved him in he looked at his brother, who waited together with Joris for him "Also, why are you so interested in Larissa?"

"Lauren! Are you even listening?" Arthur sighed frustrated, leaning against the steel wall of the elevator.

"Honestly? No. I don’t. Like I said, I have other things on my mind." the older Leclerc scratched his chin.

"Oh, whatever…"

"Why does this bother you so much?" Joris asked when they left the elevator, looking for their rooms "Since when are you this interested in your mother’s business?"

"I’m not! It’s just-… it was the way she said the name? The way she smiled? I don’t know, I’m just curious…" Arthur sighed and Charles patted his shoulder.

"Listen, whoever Leonore is, Maman will know what she’s doing. So can we now please focus on this weekend? Yeah? I need a good weekend, you as well… so stop thinking about some girl you’ve never even met and start focusing on your job…"

"FUCKING HELL, HER NAME IS LAUREN!" Arthur spat out, pushing his brother’s hand off his shoulder, entering his hotel room "You’re doing this on purpose!" and with that he slammed the door shut.

"That was childish…" Joris rolled his eyes and Charles nodded.

"It was…"

"Not him, you! Oh don’t look at me like that! You were riling him up on purpose!"

"I swear I didn’t. I just don’t have time to remember irrelevant things!" he unlocked the hotel room and put his stuff down "I’m in no position to think about other things then the race weekends ahead and how I can thank my mother to take care of Ava this much. And if Maman hires someone to help her out, I honestly shouldn’t question it. She’s the reason why I can still have my career while being a single father…"

"Maybe you should offer her to pay the-…" Joris began but Charles interrupted him.

"I should pay the salary of Lynette!"

"Oh now you’re messing with me as well!" his best friend threw a pillow at him and Charles caught it laughing.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about… can we focus now on Silverstone?"

"No water. No radio. No car that’s doing what I want. What a shit show…" Charles muttered underneath his breath when he got out of a van at the airport and grabbed his bags, waving at some fans at the fence.

He sighed, the weekend was a disaster with a mediocre qualifying and then a bad race with a 5 second penalty for speeding in the pit lane and a disappointing P7 at the end. He wanted to leave. He had to leave.

"It wasn’t the best of weekends, that’s for sure…" Joris nodded, taking his bags.

"The only good thing about this weekend was that it was the penultimate race before the summer break…"

"Yeah, I think you never needed it this badly…"

"I just want 3 weeks with Ava in the sun, far away from camera’s, fans and all of this." the driver nodded towards some screens that showed the race highlights.

The two men followed the airport hostess to their secluded terminal where another surprise waited for them.

"I know that look…" Charles began, looking at the red head in front of him.

"Charles, there is a problem…" Silvia said slowly, her eyes wary "There’s no easy way to say this, but your jet… it’s not here. You have to take a commercial flight… and the next one available is at 6:25 am."

Charles was too stunned to speak. Her words hit him like a freight train. 6:25 am?

"What?" was all he mustered to say, taking a deep breath.

"The jet is not here. You have to fly commercial."

"Are you serious? What do you mean the jet is not here? And isn’t there an earlier commercial flight? Like tonight maybe?" Charles looked at Silvia with wide eyes.

"The booking wasn’t confirmed… and now the jet is booked for a different flight…"

"I have to be at home tonight, Silvia. My mother is leaving early in the morning and I told her it’ll be just fine! I can’t miss this flight!"

"Well, technically you’re not missing your flight… also, you’re not the only one who has to go back ho-…"

"But no one else has to be at home because their mother can’t watch their daughter forever!" Charles whisper shouted frustrated, his mind racing. Always when he thought a weekend couldn’t end worse, life was showing him just how worse it really could be, now that he stood in the little terminal for private jets, with no way to fly back home "Fuck!" he let out frustrated, typing away on his phone.

"I don’t know what else-…" Silvia began when Charles shook his head, walking away to call Lorenzo.

"Charles?" a voice behind him made Charles flinch, turning around to look at Max "You okay, mate?"

"Of course, an amazing weekend with an amazing end, no?" he pressed out, not in the mood for more unnecessary conversation.

"Umm-… sure. I overheard-… well who didn’t? You weren’t speaking quietly. Anyways, if you have to be in Monaco this urgently, you could fly with us? I have two seats left?" the Red Bull driver offered and Charles cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah, it’s not the first time we share a jet, it’s been a while but… yeah you know, I don’t know why you have to be in Monaco, but your voice tells me it must be important…" Max replied, tilting his head.

"It really is. I- umm… I promised my mum to be at home tonight. She needs me…" the Monegasque driver said vaguely and Max nodded.

"Alright, then come on, you and Joris can join us."

"She’s amazing. She helps me so much… I can now fully divide my time between the salon and my gorgeous granddaughter… leaving for the convention tomorrow was also only possible because of her!" Pascale raved about her new assistant while feeding Ava "Best decision ever to hire her."

"I didn’t even know you were looking for an assistant and now you constantly talk about her?" Arthur asked, looking up from his tablet.

"Constantly? She’s here now for what? A month? A little more?" Pascale rolled her eyes "Also, I wasn’t looking for an assistant, it was more coincidental, you know? She got a haircut, we talked and et voila I hired her… and she’s doing such an amazing job! She manages the whole salon on her own! I just have to come and cut some hair and then I can leave already because she took care of the rest…"

"As long as she’s a help for you…" Arthur shrugged, right when Charles walked in, hair still damp from his shower.

"Who’s a help for who?" the older Leclerc brother asked, gently kissing his daughters fingers.

"My new assistant-…" his mother began but got interrupted by her youngest son.

"L-a-u-r-e-n… you remember? Maman is raving about her for the past weeks now…"

"You hired a new assistant?" Charles asked, ignoring his brothers eye rolling while sitting down next to her, watching her feed his daughter.

"Yes, it was all really spontaneous. I gave her a haircut, we talked, and then I hired her and believe me Charles, she’s amazing. A hard worker, sweet and charming to all my clients, always polite. She’s a quick learner, amazing with her hands… and don’t let me start on how beautiful she is! She could be a model for sure…"

"Oh yeah? I might have to visit you then in the salon…" Arthur wiggled his eyebrows, earning a slap on his upper arm from his mother "Ouch! What was that for?"

"You have a beautiful girlfriend yourself. Behave!" she replied and then turned slightly to her other son "You on the other hand…"

"Stop. No. Don’t do that, Maman!" Charles rolled his eyes, groaning. He was too exhausted for this. It was the middle of the night, he was tired, frustrated from the weekend and not in the mood for his mother’s attempts to meddle with his love life. He knew her all too well. How she always eyed up his girlfriends, saying him that she wasn’t the one and frankly she was right every single time, but it wasn’t something she had to know.

"Don’t do what?" his mother asked innocently.

"You’re not setting me up with your new assistant-…"

"I wasn’t! I just said that if someone wanted to come over and get to know her it should’ve been you. The single one." Pascale shrugged her shoulders, cooing at her granddaughter.

"Single father…" Charles replied, sighing.

"I don’t think that would be a problem for La-…"

"See! You want to set me up with her. No. Not happening. I have Ava and my career. That’s all I need."

"I didn’t say-…" Pascale began but then shook her head "Whatever, Charles. But just so you know, you would love her. You all would, I for sure am. That’s all I’m saying."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Alright, now that you’re here, I can go home and have some sleep before I have to get up and leave." Pascale leaned over, laying Ava down in her father’s arms "I’m glad we didn’t have to stick to plan B…"

"I am able to take care of her!" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Sure you can…" his mother patted his arm "Now come on, you have to drive me home."

"Fine." he got up as well, gently stroking his nieces arm "Good night, little Ava. Charles." he winked at his older brother who smiled lazily, watching his daughter fighting off the inevitable sleep.

As soon as his mother and brother left, Charles got up and laid Ava down in her bassinet, his own tiredness and exhaustion slightly taking over. He pulled the bassinet next to his bed and laid down, watching his daughters every little movement.

"Good night my pretty little princess. Daddy’s here now…" he whispered, before he fell asleep almost immediately.

Charles woke up from Ava’s crying and whimpering. Worse than anything he ever heard before. He was up in an instant, switching on the bedside lamp.

"Hey my little angel, what’s up?" he cooed at her, gently scooping her up, her tears dampen his shirt "Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter baby girl, hmm?" he patted her back gently, rocking her in his arms "Are you hungry?" he got up and made his way to the kitchen, preparing a bottle, all while Ava cried and whimpered into his chest. He never heard her cry like this before, his heart braking with every new sound from his little girl and when he 10 minutes later sat down with her, trying to feed her he had to learn that it wasn’t the bottle she wanted "Fresh diaper then?" but again, not what was wrong. Charles sat in his bed, rocking Ava who got squirmier with every second, her little sobs making her tiny body shake, which made Charles heart clench "What is it, Ava? Hmm? You’re not hungry, your diaper is clean. What do you need baby girl?" he turned her a little, so he could look into her eyes, tears staining her face. She was pale. But her nose and cheeks were red. Her hair felt like it was a little damp. Charles gently stroked her cheeks and he thought they felt warmer than usual. But was it a fever? Or was it now from crying that much? Charles checked his phone. It was 5:46 am. Ava was awake over half an hour earlier than usual as well "We should try to sleep a little more baby girl… let’s put something on the TV and then try to sleep a little more…" Charles scooted into the middle of his bed, propped up a little against the headboard so that Ava could sleep on his chest, pillows on his left and right in case he fell asleep that Ava was safe. Then he put her down on his thighs and took off his shirt, remembering what the nurse told him the night Ava was born, and put her back on his chest, pulling the blanket over them "Look at that. A nice documentary narrated by David Attenborough… with his soothing voice, we’ll be sleeping in no time…" Charles cooed at Ava, gently rubbing circles on her back. And he was right it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep again. Not her peacefullest one, but she slept. And with her finally settling down, Charles followed shortly after. But not for too long. From the moment Ava woke up an hour later her crying got worse. Her tiny sobs sounded as if she was having a cold and Charles wondered what he should do. When he was having a cold he drank hot tea, took some medication and that was it. But what was he supposed to do with Ava? He grabbed his phone, already dialling his mother’s number when he hung up. His mother was already on her way to the convention and he knew she would turn around immediately. He had to figure it out himself. So he googled. But the results were all too different. Too many different opinions on what to do and he was confused. He was rocking Ava in his arms, pacing back and forth in his apartment, when he called Enzo, asking for help from Charlotte but his older brother told him that she wouldn’t be home for the next couple of hours.

"What’s wrong with her?" Enzo asked, sensing his brother’s distress "I can be at yours in 10 minutes?"

"She’s just not calming down. I tried to feed her, she’s not really eating much. She’s changed, so that shouldn’t be a problem, she can’t be tired because she doesn’t want to sleep. And… she feels a little warmer than normally? She’s a little sweaty… I don’t know what to do? I’m feeling like Maman would know what to do, but I can’t call her. Not when she finally, after years, does something for herself again!"

"Charles, maybe you should go and see a doctor?" Enzo suggested "I can drive you there?"

"I don’t even know who her doctor is…" Charles whispered "I have no idea… Maman took her to the doctor the last times…" he felt like the worst father on earth.

"It’s at the children ward at the hospital. Get ready I’ll pick you up in 10."

"It’s okay, baby girl, we’re going to see a doctor, you’ll be fine. Just fine…" Charles whispered, looking outside the car window, checking where they were "Just a little longer, Ava."

"Almost there." Lorenzo said, looking into the rearview mirror, seeing his brother’s pale face, jaw tightened "5 minutes…"

"You hear that? Almost there, little princess." Charles gently stroked Ava’s cheek, feeling her warm skin "Almost there…"

"I’ll drop you off and then I’ll head to the airport picking Charlotte up… and you let me know what’s up with Ava, okay? And when I have to pick you up…" Lorenzo said.

"Yeah…" Charles mumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt the moment his brother stopped in front of the hospital.

He got out of the car and opened the boot of the car, taking out Ava’s stroller.

"Here you go…" Enzo gently laid his niece down "It’s going to be alright, little Ava." he cooed at her, pulling the blanket over her "Call me, whatever it is, if you need me, don’t want to feel so alone, just call me, okay?" he then said to his brother, hugging him "It’s going to be okay, you hear me?"

"Okay… yeah…" Charles replied "And thanks for driving us… I’m not sure I would’ve been able to drive safely…"

"It’s okay. Now go inside…" Lorenzo patted his back and Charles nodded, pushing Ava’s stroller to the entrance, through the doors to the front desk.

"Hi, umm- I need a doctor, no, my daughter needs a doctor, she’s restless and she feels hot and sweaty and I don’t know what to do, the temperature is rising I think? My mum- she umm, she was here before with Ava, my daughter…" Charles stammered, looking at the nurse who smiled at him.

"Okay, so your daughter’s doctor is here at the children’s ward?" she asked and he nodded "Okay, do you know where the children’s ward is? No, okay… follow the rainbow coloured line on the floor, to your right…" she pointed at the different coloured lines on the floor and Charles nodded.

"Thank you." he replied and walked off, following the line through the hallways until he arrived at a glass door, children’s ward written in colourful letters on it "We did it, baby girl, just a moment… they will help you…" right when he wanted to push the door open it sprang open and an older looking nurse walked out, looking at him.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Umm yes-… this is Ava, my daughter, she umm- she needs a doctor, she’s sick I think…" Charles said and the nurse cocked an eyebrow, looking into the stroller.

"Ava? So you are Ava’s father, I was wondering when we would see you here…" she said, nodding towards the front desk inside the children’s ward "Go on in there…"

"Umm- okay." Charles was a little confused by the icy tone of the nurse but he couldn’t think too much about it, walking to the front desk "Hi, my daughter needs a doctor. She’s restless and cries a lot, she didn’t sleep much, doesn’t want to eat and she feels warmer than usual… I think she has a cold…" he explained to the nurse behind the desk and she got up immediately.

"Alright, please follow me…" she brought them into an examination room and helped Charles with getting Ava out of the stroller, taking off her jacket, right when the door opened again "Could you please fill out the paperwork with Mr. …?"

"Leclerc… I’m Charles and this is Ava…" Charles replied and the nurse nodded.

"Alright, can you please help Mr. Leclerc with the paperwork?"

"And Ava?" he asked, his eyes widened.

"Don’t worry, Mr. Leclerc, the doctor will be here shortly, I’ll take care of her, and as soon as you’re done with the papers you’ll be back with your daughter." the nurse smiled and he nodded "It won’t take long, don’t worry. And I’m here, taking care of Ava."

"Mr. Leclerc, would you please follow me?" the other nurse lead him outside and Charles followed her hesitantly "Don’t worry, she’s in really good hands. I just need you to fill out these documents, you can sit down there…" she pointed at some chairs lined up at the wall of the hallway and Charles took the clipboard and sat down, scribbling away.

Charles hands were a little shaky, he never liked hospitals, too many people did he lose in one. But for Ava he had to be strong, push the negative thoughts away and focus on her wellbeing. When he was done with the paperwork he looked up, but the nurse wasn’t sitting behind her desk and he looked to the left, where two women walked up to him.

"Mr. Leclerc? Hi, I’m Cleo Bernoit, this is Marianne Goulard, we’re from the CPS in Monaco…" the blonde woman began.

"CPS?" Charles interrupted, looking confused between the two women.

"Child protective services…"

"What? Are you kidding me? Why?" he was at a loss of words, confused and scared.

"Someone called us after the incident with your daughter… it’s a standard procedure. Mandatory." the red haired woman, Marianne, said "And since we have an office here in the hospital, we just want to check in quickly."

"You see, you’re a single father with a demanding job. We’re just here to make sure that everything is alright." Cleo added and Charles swallowed hard.

"Umm- okay… but it wasn’t really an incident? I just wasn’t sure what to do and couldn’t reach my mum, that’s why I brought her to the emergency room…" he mumbled, his hands gripping his thighs tightly, knuckles turning white "She was restless, cried and felt a little warmer then usually. I couldn’t calm her down. So yeah, I thought taking her here would be the best."

"I see. Does this happen more often?" the blond woman asked.

"That she’s restless and cries and I can’t calm her down? Or what? The slightly higher temperature?" Charles was confused.

"No, that you need to check in with your mother, regarding your daughter’s health." the redhead said.

"What?" he was taken aback "What do you mean?"

"Ava is your daughter. You’re the one responsible for her and-…"

"I know that she’s my daughter and I’m responsible for her. But she’s also my first child, I don’t know everything about babies yet and before I make a mistake I check in with my mother, who successfully raised three kids-…" Charles began, his voice wavering with emotions.

"We know that Mr. Leclerc. It’s just… we’ve been notified that for the last two check-ups, it was your mother who brought Ava in. Not you." the redhead said and Charles eyes widened "And when Ava got her second round of vaccines a month ago, it was also your mother who brought her in again…" she continued.

"Yes. Because I had to work. And while I’m being away working, my mother takes care of her granddaughter. Is there a problem with that?" he said.

"Mr. Leclerc. Ava is your daughter, she’s not even three months old but you are more interested in travelling the world then-…"

Charles had enough. He got up from his seat, his hands balled into fists, breathing heavy.

"I am not more interested in travelling the world than being with my daughter. It is my job. I am a Formula 1 driver. Travelling the world is my job. I am a single father who is more than grateful that his mum takes care of his daughter while he’s away, working. Excuse me, but I want to see my daughter now." his voice was dangerously low, his anger and frustration palpable.

He walked away towards the nurses station, already typing a message out for his mother.

"Hi, can I see my daughter now?" Charles asked the nurse who smiled at him, taking the clipboard from him, looking it over.

"Let me just check if you didn’t forget anything and then we-…" she began.

"No. I want to see her. Now." his voice louder than intended.

"No, of course not, Mr. Leclerc, follow me…" the nurse got up from her seat and gestured for Charles to follow her, down the hall.

"Thank you-… I didn’t want to get loud and be rude. I was just-… I’m just scared and frustrated… I shouldn’t have let it out at you…" he stammered but the nurse just smiled at him.

"It’s okay, it’s your first child, that’s normal." she patted his arm and stopped in front of a door, knocking gently "Dr. Richefort? I have Mr. Leclerc here, little Ava’s dad, can we-"

"Of course, of course, come on in, Mr. Leclerc!" an older man waved Charles inside and he hastily walked in, his eyes immediately on Ava in a little bassinet on the table, the other nurse holding out a teddy bear to her "Everything is alright with your little one. Just a little fever and stuffed nose, nothing out of the ordinary, that happens sometimes."

"She’s okay?" the young father whispered, his eyes rooted on his daughters face "Nothing serious?"

"Nothing serious. Nothing a warm bath in a little steamy bathroom can’t cure. Close all windows and doors, start the shower with hot water and let some steam build in the room, that’s perfect for her nose and lungs. I gave her some syrup to calm her down and reduce the fever, I wrote that one up for you to get as well as something for her stuffed nose." Dr. Richefort said and he was relieved, cupping Ava’s cheek who was smiling lazily, playing with the doctor’s stethoscope now.

"I can take her home?" Charles asked, looking up.

"Of course, I don’t see any reason why not. Just get her medicine and give her something of the syrup before bed and she should be perfectly fine in one or two days. You’re good to go." the doctor nodded to the nurse who grabbed Ava’s onesie from a stool helping Charles getting her ready.

His eyes didn’t leave Ava’s face for one second, his heart racing. As soon as his little one was safely in her stroller and the Doctor handed him the prescription for the pharmacy, the nurse showed him the way outside.

"Can I ask you something?" Charles had to know "Why did you call the CPS?"

"CPS? They were here?" she stopped, looking at him "Why?" she seemed genuinely confused opening the door for Charles and the stroller.

"Yeah… they said it’s mandatory, after all I wasn’t with Ava for her last check-ups and that because my mum was taking care more of her than I am…" he almost whispered and the blonde woman thought for a moment before she sighed, shaking her head.

"Angelique… the head nurse. She’s one of the older nurses here. Very settled in her way of thinking and how families are supposed to look like. Single parents? God no! Worse, a single father? Who works? I bet it was her. She’s the one who does the administrative stuff like that… I’m very sorry that she called them…"

"The older nurse who opened the doors when I arrived?"

"I didn’t see, but yeah, that could be…"

"Am I on their watchlist now?" Charles asked when they entered the foyer of the hospital "Now that they looked into my-no Ava’s file?"

"I wish I could say no… but the truth is, now that you got their attention, they will have an eye on you… I’m sorry. I’ve seen you with your little girl and I think you’re doing a good job…" she said genuinely and Charles mustered a tiny smile.

"Thanks… have a nice day." he walked out of the door, waving the nurse goodbye.

As soon as Charles was outside he put on his shades and a baseball cap, hoping that no one would recognise him. He made a mental note to call his lawyer later on, not sure if she could do anything about the CPS and also the fact that he was here today. Ava was sleeping in her stroller and he decided a nice little walk would do them some good. Some fresh air. He also knew that Ava slept the best in her stroller, the slightly bumpy sidewalks rocking her gently in her stroller, making it perfect for a nice long slumber. Like that he could also stop at the little pharmacy that was far off the usual busy streets of Monaco, getting Ava’s medicine.

Charles decided to make a little stop at the harbour, enjoying the sun, calming down his nerves. His mind was racing. The fact that someone called the CPS on him was bad enough, but to think that because of that, all the hard work to keep Ava safe and a secret were for nothing was worse. He tried his best to be at home with her as much as he could. Took it upon him to travel in between races back home where he usually would just straight fly to the next race. Even if it was only for a couple of hours, he didn’t miss a single chance to see her if possible. Was it ideal? No. He knew that. He felt it. He missed her. Every single minute he was gone, he missed her like crazy. But he couldn’t ask his mother to travel with him around the world so Ava could come with him. His mother had her own life and it wasn’t fair to ask that of her. She probably would agree, she would sacrifice everything for her children and now granddaughter. Charles leaned back, sighing.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he mumbled when Ava stirred in her stroller, waking up crying "Hey, baby girl, it’s alright… all good…" he gently picked her up and held her close to his chest, rocking her slowly "It’s all good my little princess…"

But it wasn’t. Ava’s cries were getting louder, making Charles trying desperately to calm her down. He looked up in the sky once, sending a prayer out for anyone to help him.

"It’s the sunglasses, you know?" a gentle voice commented, making Charles flinch, he didn’t notice that someone was sitting on one of the other benches.

"Sorry?" he asked confused.

"Lose the sunglasses, yeah and maybe the cap too…" a pretty girl replied, her eyes shining "She wants to see you, but she can’t…" her beautiful smile almost made Charles heart skip a beat.

"Umm-… just… just take off the sunglasses and the cap? It’s that easy?" he cocked and eyebrow but did as told after he looked around for a moment, making sure that no one else was around.

"I mean, it could be… it’s worth a try, now she can look at her dad, sees that you’re looking at her too… that you’re here for her." the girl explained and Charles nodded slowly, looking down at Ava.

"I’m here, Ava. It’s all good…" he smiled at his daughter, kissing her forehead, when she seemed to calm down a little.

"Or she’s just hungry or needs new nappies…" the girl continued and Charles looked at her.

"So you’re just throwing out some guesses? You’re not some kind of a baby guru?" he chuckled a little and the girl shook her head "What a shame, I could’ve used one…" he mumbled and she looked at him "Sorry… it’s- it’s been a short night. And a way too long day…"

"No need to apologise. I know how you feel…"

"You have one as well?" the young man looked at her with big eyes, sounding surprised "Sorry! I shouldn’t have said it like that… it’s just you look quiet young? I mean not that it’s bad to be a young mother! It’s great, like you know… I think I better just shut up…" he groaned, shaking his head and the girl had to stifle a laugh.

"I mean I am young. But not too young… but no, I don’t have one… I worked with some tho…" she replied.

"You worked with babies?"

"I‘m a paediatric nurse…"

"Padric what?" Charles was confused, tilting his head a little.

"Paediatric nurse… kids… I was trained especially for kids and did some hours on the new born ward…" she explained.

"Oh! Wow! You’re more than qualified to give some advice then…" he looked at her "You’re here on vacation?"

"No… I moved here actually… just a couple of weeks ago, still trying to get used to everything…" the girl replied and he nodded.

"Don’t worry, not all Monegasques are as lost as me and need help from a pretty stranger…" Charles said and then blushed, the moment he realised what he just had said out loud.

"Oh- umm… it’s alright… don’t worry…" the girls cheeks were turning red.

"I- I should go… I have to put her down soon…" Charles carefully laid his daughter in the stroller next to them and put his cap and sunglasses back on "Thanks for umm- for the help…"

"Sure. If she’s still a little grumpy later on, you should try a warm bath…" the pretty girl got up as well "Umm-… bye."

"Yeah-… umm bye…" Charles turned around and pushed the stroller in front of him before he stopped again, turning a little "Oh and welcome to Monaco."

"Thanks." she smiled back at him, making Charles heart definitely skip a beat.

"I’m Charles, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you around some time, Monaco is almost like a little village." he chuckled and she nodded, turning around, walking away "Well now I need to see her again…" he mumbled, cooing at Ava "She didn’t tell me her name."

"Charles?"

"Hmm?" he blinked looking at his mother "What?"

"What happened then?" she asked and he was confused for a moment, the smile of the pretty stranger in the back of his mind "You left the hospital and then? Did you hear from the CPS again?"

"No. Not yet… I mean it’s just 2 days ago, no? I didn’t give them any reason…" Charles sighed.

"You must’ve been scared, after they jumped at you like that?" Pascale patted his arm and he sighed.

"Yeah… it was scary… but yeah I mean, it’s like this. I can’t change it, not now at least, I’m leaving for Spa in an hour…"

"The most important thing is that Ava is healthy. She’s all good, you took care of her just like a good dad would. The rest we’ll figure out." Charles’ mother smiled at him and he nodded slowly "Okay, there is something else? Since I’m back your thoughts seem to drift away every now and then? And you have this smile on your face? What happened? You’re going from worried to happy and dreamy in a heartbeat?"

"Hmm? What?" Charles looked at her, scratching his beard.

"You don’t even listen to me? What happened?" Pascale cocked an eyebrow and he averted his gaze immediately, looking at Ava "You can’t even look me in the eyes?"

"I don’t know what you mean…" he replied, a soft smile on his lips, when he thought back to the girl from the harbour "I’m just happy that Ava is all good… and now I should check that I packed everything…"

"No, I know you… there’s something else… it’s almost like…" Pascale began, when Joris plopped down next to her on the sofa.

"It’s almost like he has a crush on someone. I know that smile, almost a little dumb... and the fact he can’t look us in the eyes when we ask him what’s going on? How he changes the topic? Charles met someone…" he chuckled and his best friend groaned, although he began to blush slightly "And now look at his face! He’s blushing!"

"You really met someone! And that someone must’ve left quite the impression on you… I mean, look at you!" Pascale grinned, although she was a little disappointed that she couldn’t introduce Lauren earlier to her son "Who is she? Where did you meet her?"

"Okay, okay. Calm down. I met her once. After the hospital, I don’t know her name, or anything. She helped me with Ava. She was amazing. But that’s it. I don’t have a crush. Or anything like that, okay?" Charles said but his mother and best friend just exchanged glances and he knew that he shouldn’t have said anything "Can we please leave it be? I have one last race before the summer break. Let me focus on that and then after you can annoy me again?"

"Oh you can bet on it…" Joris laughed and Pascale nodded.

"I can’t wait to hear more of it…" she added.

"Alright, now let me enjoy the last minutes with my little princess before we have to leave."

Lauren swiped the floor clean, when the phone rang and Pascale answered the call, smiling while speaking in a soft voice. The young girl continued with cleaning the mirrors and wiped the console tables underneath, storing away the cleaning utilities as soon as she was done.

"La porte de derrière est ouverte... D’accord."

Lauren thought for a moment, trying to translate what Pascale had said.

"The backdoor is open." Pascale said, looking at the young girl "You tilt your head and poke out your tongue, when you’re trying to translate what was said…"

"Oh…" how embarrassing.

"You’ll finally meet one of my sons, Charles is coming over. " her voice was always filled with love and pride as soon as she mentioned one of her sons, it made Lauren’s heart swell, hearing her talk so fondly and adoringly of her sons.

But at the same time it also stung a little, making her miss her mother even more.

"Charles? He’s the youngest?"

"Middle."

"Oh, okay." Lauren nodded, storing away some bottles, when a breathtakingly handsome young man, stepped out of the hallway, a young man Lauren knew from somewhere.

"Charles, come in, come in. I want you to meet Lauren-…" Pascale switched to English, making her son cock an eyebrow.

"Your new assistant you can’t stop talking about?" he chuckled and Pascale nodded, he then followed his mothers look and as soon as his eyes landed on Lauren his whole face lit up, something his mother noticed, making her grin "It’s you! The girl from the park!"

"You two know ea-… wait? The girl from the park? OH! The girl from the park!" Pascale made big eyes, a big smile spreading on her face.

Charles blushed immediately, but he wasn’t alone, Laurens eyes widened and her cheeks were turning red, he was talking about her?

Chapter 10 - I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! Life was messy, hectic and really a lot these last weeks and I didn’t want to post something only okayish. It finally happened. Lauren and Charles officially met ♥️ now the real party starts hehehe

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s6 episode 10 thoughts

hmm… scully seems to be black and white in the image for this episode. maybe she has had this power to turn greyscale the whole time and she has simply never chosen to wield it until now. how fascinating of her!

ah, i see that the one after this is likely a two-parter, based on titles alone. so i had better focus now before things get crazy.

the description here emphasizes that scully will be the one pursuing this photographer!! i hope that bodes well for our girl!! i need lots of scully time!! or else terrible things happen to me!!

post-episode thoughts: we need to release the cut of this episode where mulder and scully team up to destroy this ritter fellow. i know mulder had to physically restrain himself from choking that dude out. frankly, he usually has FAR less self-control, so this was a big step for him.

but first and foremost, this was a scully episode. and there is so much i want to say. about living!! and dying!! and loving!! and what scully wants for herself!!! and i am sad, but i am pondering!!! and i want her to be happy!!! and in the process of editing my notes, i got myself so worked up over the whole thing that i simply cannot articulate anything!!!! which is such a shame, because if i had words, i would use them!!! at length!!

we open in new york city, where a woman gets help pushing a shopping cart out of an elevator to deliver some mail. mail time!!! wait. who is behind her?

get away from her. she is working. STOP FOLLOWING HER. I’M SERIOUS. now the elevator is taking too long to come get her…. and the creepy guy gets in. GET OUT OF THERE. YOU’RE MAKING ME ANGRY.

why can creepy man see everyone in black and white? until he steps out of the elevator, and all of the color returns.

oh shoot. he gets out and then the elevator starts breaking. so he takes the STAIRS. and it falls!!!! 

he’s taking a picture of the collapsed elevator?? with the bodies in it??? 

now who does that help….?

why is he documenting it… is he working for OSHA or something…..? 

shortened intro, you will not sneak your tricks past me.

someone else is doing a background check here at the FBI!! are scully and mulder free?? well, they’re stuck on the same floor, so probably not. mulder is on the phone and fiddling with his pen.

no; they, too, are sadly stuck performing background checks. this is so sad!!! she can save lives!!!! and they use her for this!!!

she asks if mulder is ready to quit and he says “no. that would make way too many people way too happy” <- LMAO well, that is entirely understandable

ohhh, she gets a strange call and is on the move. she was asked to go to kersh’s office!! this cannot be good!! he hates her!! and she was the only one called!

OOO, WE SEE HER FILE. she’s 5 foot 2!!! i didn’t know that!!! but i figured she was somewhere in that area. and she lives in annapolis, maryland. like learning that mulder lives in alexandria, i do not know enough about geography to know what that means.

seems she was brought on in 1990 as an instructor of forensic pathology, and she was recruited right from the university of maryland. i did know this. but not the years during which it happened. 

ARGH, i wish this screen wasn’t so dark so i could SEE. it says something about physics. BA in physics?? ARGH! this is so frustrating. mulder had described her thesis as her “graduate thesis”, so maybe she did physics undergrad, physics grad school, then med school, then FBI. 

well. it’s not focusing other than that, so i can’t make any conclusions unless kersh announces what he sees inside. because he is the one reading her file.

some agent named ritter is here from new york. who are you, man? he found an old crime scene photo of a woman who passed away from an overdose. but the clock in the photo is 45 minutes earlier than her listed time of death. scully points out that a clock can be wrong. why is this ritter man, like, quizzing her?

hmm!!! from the newspaper, the other photograph of the body shows a totally different time, an hour and a half later!!! that is very weird. from the same photographer, too. i’m guessing he wasn’t just hanging there for 2 hours and spacing out his picture taking.

alfred fellig is the photographer. ritter thinks that maybe he poisoned the woman and photographed her for personal pleasure, then came back later to do his job for the police and photographed her AGAIN. and while scully says that is “quite a theory”, there are 3 other photos of fellig's that show very different times according to different negatives.

she says there’s no consistent MO, and he says there is no consistent anything. and he wants her help. kersh asks him to leave. what is afoot here….

“i would say he has a promising career ahead of him. so did you… at one time” <- OH MY GOD??? 

(furious scully face)

“AGENT MULDER and i will begin immediately” <- OH!!! she stood right up for him!!! what a good friend!!

but kersh says he is a lost cause. and that he hopes she isn't as well.

so now she has to go to new york city with this RANDOM GUY. oh, i’m pissed off FOR HER!! kersh must be trying to separate them….

fellig is getting off a bus and watching some guy have what appears to be a heart attack. heart attack (or coughing fit? chest pain?) guy is in black and white!! 

he goes somewhere and gets some mail, patting his head with a cloth while fellig watches out the window. and he grabs his arm!! and falls!!!! AND FELLIG COMES CLOSER TO WATCH????

he pulls out his camera and takes a bunch of pictures of the dying guy, who he sees in black and white. very weird.

mulder is looking through a bunch of photos on his computer. ohhh, it looks like he found the pictures from fellig. “mulder. what are you doing?” “being nosy. eating my heart out. they’re sending you on an x file” <- OHHH, HE LOOKS SO SAD AND LEFT OUT :(

“it’s not an x file” “that’s not what i’m reading”

“i’m thinking murder by telekinesis. i’m thinking maybe a shamanistic death touch. i’m thinking about the muslim superstition that to photograph someone is to steal their soul” <- OHHH, LET HIM ON THE CASE :( 

fascinating look into how he starts gathering leads based on the little information he knows about the case and his wealth of memorized strange facts....

he thinks they’re splitting them up!!!! and he’s so sad!!! oh!! she tries to tell him it’s a one-time thing, but he isn’t buying it.

she bites her lip, closes his tabs as agent ritter walks in, and introduces them. he very visibly wants to beat the guy with a hammer. and makes a point of calling him by his first name.

jump to new york city. ritter and scully are asking some cops about fellig. he has yearly renewals for his job a very long time, and he’s been doing it since 1964!!! he doesn’t seem to have aged. 

OH! this ritter guy seems fine enough, but he called her "dana", and that made me flinch. he doesn’t seem to think it’s that weird fellig hasn’t aged at all.

meanwhile, some other dude is being chased and calling for help. whoever is chasing him pulls out a knife and kills him!!! and fellig is there to take pictures of the scene!!

but the murderer finds fellig and starts stabbing him…… he steals fellig’s camera as the blood pours everywhere. but fellig gets up!!! and pulls the knife out of his own back!!! ack!!!! 

the blood from his body is red and didn’t cause any gassing, so i don’t think he’s one of the shape-shifting aliens, but maybe he’s some sort of vampire or vampire-like creature?? maybe he sucks energies from the photos of dying people he takes??

ritter and scully find the knife with fellig’s prints on them.

“what’s this?” “a whole lotta blood” “yeah, i got that” <- LMAOOOOO, do not separate her from her bonded pair or she will be mad. scully clearly does not think there is a second victim because there is no second body.

ritter says it is “january 4th”. so does this take place BEFORE rain king, somehow? or did we jump ahead a year? you know what? i’m gonna try not to think about it. 

that seems like a weird detail to include for it to just prove the timeline wrong.

(i'm still annoyed about this 24 hours later btw)

they’re interviewing fellig. scully watches from the corner. he says he saw someone stealing a kid’s shoes and tried to run him off. he claims he touched the knife after the murderer left. 

OHHH, she picks up on the fact that he is in pain and is closing in on him like a shark smelling blood. yeahhhh, noir detective. ritter seems fascinated by this but like, come on, we all are. he’s not special.

fellig confesses to being cut. and she helps take off his shirt to see the gashes. ritter says to get his blood drawn and take pictures.

“hey, i’m confused. i thought we were trying to bust this guy, not look for reasons to let him go” “i thought we were looking for the truth” <-YEAH, YOU TELL HIM 🔥 

he gets pissed and leaves

AWWWWW, MULDER CALLS HER AND SAYS IN A STUPID VOICE THAT THEY USED TO SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER AT THE FBI :,) AWWWW, LOOK AT HER TIRED SMILE!!!

WAIT, WHY DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE STABBING, LMAO????? “i told you, i’m nosy” <- WHAT DOES HE KNOW??

they found another murderer’s prints on the knife and fellig’s blood all over the place… yeah. so fellig probably isn’t killing these people outright.

DID HE HACK INTO THE NYPD DATABASE SOMEHOW?? LMAOOOOO???

NO, HE GOT THE FILES FROM KERSH SOMEHOW, AND HE SEES THAT FELLIG HAS A HEALING FACTOR. LMAOOOO, oh he is gonna get in TROUBLE!!

but he says kersh has (mostly) nice things to say about her. which is kind of him to add.

he whines his way into doing a background check on the murderer, saying it’s what he does now. and you can tell she wants to say no, but also knows that saying no to him won’t do a damn thing, lmao.

why does he have access to kersh’s files….?

scully is joining ritter in a car at 1 am. seems he’s doing a stakeout on fellig. ritter tells her to have a LOVELY evening in a way that seems like he really hates her. man. i thought he was kinda chill at the start of this episode. except for the way he was quizzing her. and ignoring fellig not aging. maybe he was a jerk all along and i simply tried to be kind.

time for scully to flip through some more murder photos. OH NO!! she hears the camera clicking in the distance… and ritter just walked away!!! IS HE GONNA BE DEAD???

she knocks on fellig’s door and says “explain this” LMAO, get those answers!! how did he take a photo of a murder an hour before the police arrived?! 

she says he needs to explain himself or he will not know a moment’s peace. and trust that she means it.

fellig says to take a ride with her, which has me scared. and then he drives her around for an hour!!! he says he is looking for the shot. 

he finds a woman on the street corner, saying she’s about to die, could be a minute, could be an hour. scully grabs her gun, thinking he’s going to do something nefarious. he says the way they die is always a surprise- he just always knows when. 

“you want me to believe that?”, she asks

but then a man comes toward the woman on the side of the road, and they start fighting. scully gets out of the car! and she grabs the dude!!! he is under arrest!!! i fear she may only fulfill the prophecy somehow… 

she takes a gun off of him, and when he claims it isn’t his and calls her “red”, she slaps him on the face, omfg…. just a little slap…. but it was enough

BUT NO!!! when scully goes to ask the lady on the side of the road if she’s okay, the mystery woman gets hit by a truck!!!

OMG????? and fellig comes in to get the shot…

ritter is mad as HELL with scully when she rolls up with this random dude under arrest. she is also very mad at him!!! she does not need his permission to do her job!!! but he says he has something to show her. 

the murderer who killed that kid over the shoes claims that fellig did it. and scully accuses RITTER of making the STORY UP, OHHHH!!!

“fellig is a murderer. whether or not he did this specific one, i don‘t care-“ WELL, YOU SHOULD???

omfg… is this some sort of moral test for scully? is kersh torturing her like this is the good place? he says he knows the judge and he’ll get the warrant

OHHHH!!! “you know, kersh warned me about you.” “uh, he did?” “yeah, you and your partner. god knows his reputation precedes him, so i guess i should have seen this coming. you muck up my case, and kersh will hear about it. are we clear, dana?” “scully.”

WHEW!!!! THE WAY SHE SAID HER NAME ALL CLEAR AND QUIET GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS

you tell that pathetic rat.

“and we’re done with this conversation” YES MA’AM 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

wow. still playing this on loop in my brain, 24 hours later. the implications... the defining of herself... the resistance... yeah.

phone call time!! it’s mulder!!! she admits that it is an x file, which prompts him to sound worried. “what happened?”

mulder says that fellig is 149! under the name henry strand, someone applied for a press license way back in the day, and henry’s prints match fellig’s!! and before henry, there is an L.H. rice who was born in 1849 and has the same fingerprints!!

how did he track the fingerprints down… get mulder out of this office and into a research lab, maybe!

“i’m not good at math, but i figure that’s a whole lot of candles on the cake”

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he doesn’t think he’s good at math!!!

man, i haven’t gotten to do a lore reveal text format like that in a while. that felt nice.

scully finds fellig's age hard to believe, but mulder says she should find him before he vanishes again. she turns up at his apartment and looks so scary, LMAO. 

but she warns him that he will be arrested in 2 hours and charged with murder. which makes her seem to be the the good guy here, and not as scary as her angry face would suggest.

fellig says he just takes the pictures, but she hits him with “what you showed me was a contemptible lack of compassion for another human being. you showed me that you profit off of people’s deaths” <- OHHHH, GET HIM!! that strong moral code kicks in again!

“now, why shouldn’t you go to prison?” <- oooo, she’s playing hardball. but he says they’re lucky!!! and he doesn’t take them, “he” does. girl, who the hell is "he"?

fellig must be jealous that these other people can die… 

scully follows him into his darkroom. i feel such fondness for her as she moves the curtain. 

he points to someone in the photograph and says “he’s the one who takes them” BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! 

it’s a glimpse of death itself. he’s trying to photograph death!!!

“mr. fellig, i know you know more about photography than i do, but this is just a lens flare” “you’re right, i do know more about photography than you” <- LMAO, okay, that did make me laugh.

she asks him why take a picture of death, and he says he wants to look into his face so he can die. nothing will kill him. he's tried it all.

hey man, i’m unfortunately really distracted by the terrible feelings of tenderness that scully has sparked in me right at this very moment. yeah, idk. i don’t really want to focus on this guy right now. it’s very sad, genuinely, but look at her face. 

he says he doesn’t want to be here, and he got left behind. 

“you know, i don’t believe you” “yes you do. that’s why you’re here” <- OHHHH, he called her out…. the cracks in her disbeliever facade keep growing… is it that she doesn’t believe him, or that her greater commitment to needing to know the truth and therefore do the morally correct thing in handling this murder case brought her here?? can they be separated???

she flips through his photos, touching one of a young flapper. she asks how he knows when they’ll die, and he says he knows.

scully has to step outside. and she calls mulder, asking if louis brady (name on the flapper photo) was also one of fellig's names. he says no, but there is a big gap before 1939, so it could be.

but somehow, fellig disappeared!!! just kidding, he’s back. he wanted to get his film. i thought he vanished for a few seconds there.

mulder is in the FBI archives at 9:30 am. ahhh, i wish i could go there. and he finds fellig’s photo!! it shows him wanted under the name louis brady for double murder!!!

mulder calls ritter when he learns of this news, because he cannot get ahold of her. he tells him about how fellig killed two patients and walked away!!! he tells him to find agent scully NOW. and ritter, of course, is shocked that this murder happened like 80 years ago, but whatever. you better go check on her, ritter.

meanwhile, scully is still with fellig. she asks “how can you have too much life? there’s too much to learn, to experience” and this hits hard because she, of course, was very recently dying.

(moaning in pain as i think about scully wanting to experience and learn everything there is this world has to offer.......)

he says you start to wonder what everyone else gets to know

OH, SHE ASKS ABOUT LOVE??? he wanted to look up his wife 40 years ago. and he couldn’t remember her name. 

(scully, you damn romantic...)

“love lasts 75 years, if you’re lucky. and you don’t want to be around when it’s gone” <- oh stop… you’re going to make her cry…

but, is he actually going to try and kill her…..?

WAIT! she turned black and white… and tells her to count her blessings.

IS HE GOING TO KILL HER BECAUSE HE WANTS TO HELP HER???

(author's note: no)

she wants to know how to prove his thing- that he can live forever, and that he can sense when people are going to die before they do. fellig says someone took his place. he had yellow fever. and he’s getting his camera around…

he saw death back when he was sick. and he saw him dancing around the room, taking people. but death didn’t take him. 

a nurse sat with him, and when death came, he looked away. she looked at him instead. and the fever broke, and she was the one that died. 

he tells her she’s very lucky. she gets in his face and insists she is NOT going to die. she tells him to turn it off. he took her phone!!!

he says death is coming and he needs to make her peace…. 

but it’s ritter!!!! he fires his gun at fellig!!!

SHE COLLAPSES???? WHY IS SHE BLEEDING??????? there is blood coming from her throat???? did ritter miss and shoot her instead???

fellig tries to take a photo of her with his other camera, and asks if she sees "him". he says don’t look, close your eyes. and he holds her hand in his. AND HE LOOKS INTO DEATH INSTEAD. and he gasps softly…. oh my god…. he finally dies.

scully is in bed in the hospital a week later. mulder is waiting, telling ritter he’s a lucky man. which is better than i expected.

OH, he grabs her hand. and he sits on her bed. and he smiles, saying her doctor says she is making an amazing recovery. but she seems so sad, and in so much pain

he says “death only looks for you once you seek its opposite” <- OHHHH my god…

and we fade to black.

so i rewatched the scene where scully gets hurt because at first i couldn't tell what was happening, and this DUMBASS ritter shot fellig, and the bullet went STRAIGHT THROUGH HIM and INTO SCULLY???? like. what the HELL WAS HE THINKING????

holy fuck, if i were mulder i would have done a lot more than tell him he was a lucky guy. look at her enduring ritter's presence while she’s in her hospital bed and he was such an awful person the whole time they worked together. i would have told him to fuck off and let me recover from the bullet YOU put in me in peace.

and mulder grabbing her hand. and the flowers in her room. and his smile at her news. but she’s so sad. people don’t live forever. 

she wants to live, and she wants to have a life, and holy HELL need to lay down.

oh my god… this episode was super dark. and usually i don’t really like the dark ones. but it has scully, so i liked it better. because we got to contemplate her worldview. 

and she wants to LIVE. she wants a LIFE. she wants LOVE. the way she got in fellig’s face and REFUSED to let him take her picture… the way she tried to understand how he could be jealous of death, because she always wants to understand and to learn and empathize… the way she helped fellig, and fellig helped her by telling her to look away from death, so he could look instead… oh my god.

we need to do something about this ritter guy. hopefully, he will simply be fired. you can’t go around shooting your own agents. OH! and the way he didn’t care about justice at all- how he got the warrant because he knew the judge, and he told scully that if she got in his way he’d go to kersh… and how she told him her name is SCULLY and this conversation is OVER…

oh!!!

and mulder helping over the phone; mulder using her sleuthing skills to find out that fellig WAS a murderer and she WAS in danger, and he called ritter immediately and said you had BEST find her. and i can only imagine how he went to bed that night thinking of all the ways he wanted to kill ritter. how he sat by his phone for her. bouncing his basketball until the hospital sent him word of her recovery. 

now, i’m still puzzled as to why he has access to kersh’s files. perhaps this is some sort of clue. but to what? i cannot say.

i just love scully SO MUCH. she saw that the woman on the side of the road was going to die, and she stepped right in and did everything she could, even if it was ultimately doomed. she couldn’t sit back. and she wants a life. she’s in love and she wants a life and she wants a house and a dog. and to save people. and to do work that is satisfying. and all of these things she has been denied.

(screams into my hands)

she’s been slowly starting to believe- maybe not in the traditional sense, but in the sense that she recognizes something she cannot understand is afoot, and she finds herself curious about how and why. i found it very interesting that fellig called her out for this and gibson did as well. and we know that gibson can read minds, so we know it to be true. i don’t think “believes” in the same use of the word that mulder does, but she is finding it harder to compartmentalize, maybe. and can you blame her? i mean, she is miss "there HAS to be a scientific explanation for this". belief not in the supernatural sense, but in the sense that there is so much more to learn and understand and experience. be it love and life or the guy who lives forever and can somehow sense death. maybe the spiritual and the scientific aren't that separate.

god. this really was a scully episode, and i am so grateful. i deserved this. even though it wasn’t one where she laughs and enjoys the gift of being alive, we still got to dive into her thoughts and emotional state. AND we got bonus angsty mulder- angst about them being separated, and angst about nearly losing her. is this not the ultimate kind of mulder angst? 

i shall go to bed a bit sad this evening, but content. 

as i edit my notes to make them readable the day after watching this, there is still so much on my mind. in the sense that i want to write a thinkpiece on what this means for scully's character. maybe this will be a turning point, when she once again confronts her own mortality. how easily death can come. maybe she'll tell him how she feels because she realizes that now is all she has. maybe she'll confront kersh and tell him to get them off of their nonsense assignment so she can go back to saving people. maybe she'll think about all of the times she felt so certain that she was going to die in the past and once again try and make a meaning for why she didn't.

i am also thinking about how sad mulder was when kersh separated them and then how horrible he must have felt when he heard that she was SHOT in his absence. and there was nothing that he could do for a week while he could only wait to hear if she was okay. and then he drove up there as soon as he could. and he KNEW that it was ritter's fault she was lying in that bed fighting for her life, but he somehow managed to say only how lucky he was instead of slamming his head through the drywall. and how he held her hand, smiling, so happy to see her, taking his spot on her bed, thinking of how he loves her and how many times her has nearly lost her. and her thinking the same thing. and neither of them saying anything. just touching.

the feelings i am experiencing are large and difficult to put into words, which is frustrating because, like AUGH! (gestures wildly) do you get what i mean?! do you SEE what i am saying?!?! (grabs your shoulders and shakes them vigorously)

please share your thoughts with me, especially if you are a scully girl like myself. to me, this felt sort of like scully's version of paper hearts, in a way. at least, i see some parallels. even if i cannot elaborate at this time because my brain is flopping.

[blueautumngrave]

Peteminem

Photo cred: @emo-ratss

[harrylights]

-

[bunnis-monsters]

Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[dandylovesturtles]

and finally here's Wilde and Leo interacting because of course I went for blue turtle angst right away

I'd like to write little things for the other boys sometime but no promises

---

Leo yawns and stretches his arms over his head as walks into the kitchen, already characteristically full and lively. Draxum sips coffee while reading the news, Sulley snuggled against his arm while he waits for breakfast. Mikey has coerced Sondheim into helping him cook, chattering away happily while directing their biggest step-brother this way and that. Raph watches the proceedings with an amused expression; Viv watches too, though his expression is only vaguely curious.

It’s not a surprise that neither Donnie or Splinter are here yet, but Leo’s eyes quickly clock one more face missing - not hard, since it’s nearly identical to his own.

“Morning,” he greets, before turning his attention to Draxum. “Where’s Wilde Man?”

“Still asleep, I assume,” says Draxum, flipping to the next page of his paper. Sulley glances up at Leo, then clings more tightly to his dad’s arm.

Tch, like Leo would ever be interested in taking that seat!

He slides past Viv and Raph to the opposite side of the table, just to prove it, but his hand stalls on the back of the chair. It could be that Wilde is just sleeping, but… it doesn’t feel right. Unlike Leo, who likes to sleep in, Wilde wakes up early and is usually here well before him.

It shouldn’t worry him. Wilde could be asleep. Or he could be in the bathroom. There’s a million explanations, really. 

Leo backs away from the chair and slides past Raph and Viv again. “I’m gonna go check on him,” he announces. 

“Fine,” says Draxum simply. Leo tries not to let that response rankle him. Draxum’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, and he won’t act concerned unless he feels like there’s a good reason to. As much as Leo hates to admit it, he can see that Draxum is really trying, for their alternate dimension selves and for them, too. But he’s usually more reactive than proactive. It’s like Splinter, in a big way, so Leo gets it.

Besides, if Wilde has a problem, he usually lets them all know it right away. Which means it’s probably nothing and Leo is overreacting.

He still thinks he should check.

(Donnie accuses him of babying the guy, but Leo isn’t babying anyone!)

He goes to his room first, grabbing his swords so he can portal over to the platform where Draxum and his step-brothers live. It’s only about a two minute walk, faster if he takes the auto-piloted tram Donnie and Viv built, but nothing is as fast as his portals!

Seconds later he’s stepping through to Draxum’s platform, the train cars laid out in a mirror of his and his brothers’. The lights are out in every car, including Wilde’s. There’s no sound; as far as Leo can tell, the platform is deserted.

Still, when he gets Wilde’s car, he takes the time to stop and rap his knuckles against the metal outside, not grabbing the curtain that serves as a door just yet. “Hey, Wilde?”

Finally, Leo hears a sound: a sharp hiss, like someone sucking a startled breath. Or maybe more like a scared animal, threatening an intruder.

Leo tenses, automatically bracing for an attack. Nothing happens, however; there’s no further noise from inside the car.

He lowers his voice a bit, calling more gently, “Wilde? Can I come in?”

There’s a long pause, and then Wilde’s voice, rougher than usual, snaps, “No.”

Leo doesn’t move. “Okay,” he says. “But are you alright in there?”

Another sharp breath, and Leo knows he isn’t. His mind whirls over the possibilities of what it could be: nightmare, fight with one of his brothers, fight with Draxum, general pain from his injuries. Any number of things can set Wilde off. Except this doesn’t feel like his normal rage and fury; this feels more like fear.

“I’m fine,” comes the lie, finally, and Leo sighs.

“Come on, bro, it’s me. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I don’t- I won’t-” Wilde lets out what was probably meant to be a frustrated growl, but pitched too high - whine territory. “Talking won’t help.”

“Okay,” Leo agrees easily. “So what will?”

Wilde says nothing. The silence stretches out interminably.

Leo knows Wilde just told him he couldn’t come in, but he can’t take this anymore. Something is wrong. What if Wilde is injured, or sick? He grits his teeth. Establishing trust with the guy has been hard, and he knows he’s about to damage it, but he feels like he can’t just stand out here.

“I’m coming in,” he announces, then pauses for several seconds longer, to give Wilde time to protest, or come out himself. When he doesn’t, Leo pushes the curtain aside and steps in.

Wilde’s in his bed, the covers pulled up to his chest, clenched in a tight hand. His eyes are wide and unblinking, and he lets out a series of clicks when Leo steps closer, high and terrified. They sound involuntary, like Wilde just can’t hide how scared he is, which shocks Leo into stopping again. He’s always seen Wilde lash out. He’s never seen him cringe back.

Leo holds up his hands, his voice low and gentle. “It’s alright,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” It’s the tone he uses when Raph has one of his really bad nightmares, the ones that make him think the Krang still have him. 

Wilde doesn’t look like he believes that. Maybe he feels like he can’t, because of whatever it is that made him this scared. Leo takes another step forward, Wilde clicks, and Leo stops.

“Okay,” he says, then lowers himself to the floor and sits, cross-legged. Wilde’s train car is a lot cleaner than Leo’s own, maybe because it’s the first space he’s had that’s really his, or maybe because he’s afraid of what will happen if it’s not. “I’m just gonna chill here until you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Wilde clicks a few more times, then goes silent. He’s still watching Leo, wide-eyed and unmoving. Leo keeps his own posture as relaxed as he can, keeping his eyes focused more on the bed itself than Wilde’s face, and tries not to fidget while he waits for Wilde to calm down.

Actually, something about the sheets seem… off. Like there’s something missing. But Wilde’s prosthetic isn’t in its stand by Wilde’s bed, so it must be-

Wilde suddenly sags against the wall of the train car, and Leo sits up straight. His step-brother is shaking, but he tentatively stretches his fingers in Leo’s direction, and that’s all Leo needs to hop to his feet and move to the bed.

“Hey, there’s my Wilde Guy,” he says, grinning as he settles onto the mattress by Wilde’s legs. “Ready to tell Leon what’s wrong?”

Wilde actually manages a little bit of a glare, though it lacks its usual intensity, tempered by fear. “Don’t you already know?”

“I swear that I don’t,” says Leo seriously.

Wilde is again slow to answer and Leo doesn’t push him, just waits, holding out a hand in invitation. Wilde doesn’t take it, but the offer seems to communicate Leo’s sincerity.

“...Someone stole my leg,” he finally grumbles.

Leo would almost have assumed that was a joke, except he knows Wilde completely lacks his characteristic Leo Humor. Which means he’s serious, and which also explains why the covers looked so misshapen to Leo earlier.

But who would even take Wilde’s leg? He can’t think of any reason why… Oh.

“Oh,” says Leo, frowning. He should have anticipated this… “I bet Donnie took it.”

“I’LL KILL HIM!” Wilde shrieks, lurching forward and nearly overbalancing into the floor. Leo jerks out of his relaxed slouch to catch him, mentally chastising himself. He should have said that a lot more carefully.

“Hold on, hold on!” he begs, setting Wilde back straight on his pillows. “I meant, he probably took it to do some tech stuff to it!”

“Like what?” Wilde snarls, except it’s pitched too high again, and Leo realizes he’s genuinely scared of what Donnie might be doing with his prosthetic. Almost like…

Leo swallows down the sudden knot in his throat and tries to smile, like everything is fine, even though he knows it isn’t. “He gets it in his head that he has to improve things for people,” Leo explains. “He thinks he’s making it better.”

“I don’t want better, I want it on my leg!” 

“Yeah, and that’s totally fair,” Leo agrees quickly. “He stranded me once like this, too, when I was still on crutches after the Krang invasion. Just took them one night without saying anything.”

Wilde stops struggling against him, but Leo can still feel him trembling. “So he does this kind of stuff a lot,” he says quietly.

“He doesn’t mean anything bad by it,” says Leo. “But I know it’s super frustrating. I get it.”

“Do you?” Wilde snaps, and Leo thinks that maybe he doesn’t.

“...Look. I’m sorry that my dum-dum brother stranded you here without another way to move. And I’m sorry that it scared you.”

“Not scared,” Wilde mumbles, and Leo lets him have it.

“But no one’s going to hurt you here, little bro.” He turns his grapple into a hug, tucking Wilde under his chin, and is surprised when he isn’t immediately shoved away. Wilde really is terrified. “No one’s gonna hurt you,” he repeats.

Wilde doesn’t relax. He’s stiff in Leo’s arms. But he doesn’t argue, so Leo accepts it for now.

oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply <i>appear</i>, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming <i>out</i> of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway. 

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t <i>miss</i> things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it. 

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again. 

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… <i>if</i> it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well <i>you</i> don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s <i>movement</i> coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. <i>Children</i>.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes. 

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because <i>I’m</i> interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him). 

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was <i>that</i>!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I <i>can’t</i>!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, <i>especially</i> as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“<i>NO</i>!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of <i>something</i> markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, <i>loneliness</i>. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

[oceantornadoo]

mean!simon riley who’s not someone you’d introduce to your family. he’s a bit cruel, likes to see the bird under him crying or near it, scratching his back. he’s not used to watching his tone or putting in effort, simply doesn’t want to. for some odd reason, though, he wants to with you.

first time he fingers you, he’s a bit too rough, doesn’t understand your body yet. “hurts, simon,” and while usually, he’d fingerfuck someone past the pain, he doesn’t like the tears swelling in your eyes. “i’m sorry, baby.” he kisses your forehead sweetly, pulling back his efforts until you’re sopping wet, welcoming him eagerly. funny how it’s better for the both of you when he takes his time.

he’s half an hour late to a dinner date. took longer to wrap things up on base, and usually he’d cancel the date in favor of his right hand or a try at a pub, but he wants to see you, specifically. simon doesn’t stop to question the why behind it, the way he’s rubbing at a space behind his chest.

when he gets to the restaurant, he catches you leaving, wiping at what suspiciously look like tears. “love.” he calls it out gruffly from far away, noting how your head pops up with hope. “you’re late.” he nods, walking closer until he’s in your orbit. “‘m sorry. forgot to text.” you shake your head, looking back at the restaurant. “the waiter had the most pitying look, si. like i’m just one of those people who gets stood up.” he shushes you, tucking you into him. he’s not used to these soft moments and tries to emulate what he’s seen on a screen. “let’s get some takeaway and eat at mine, yeah? let me make it up to you.” there’s a suspicious weight in his chest that lessens when you give him a small smile. simon decides not to question it. too much mental trouble.

-

more bad date simon at the bottom of this

[mssorceressupreme]

Under Your Control

———

Pairing: In ho x reader

Summary: you wake up almost bare one night, away from the other players, tried to someone’s bed in an all too luxurious bedroom.

only to discover that the person you loved, young-il was the frontman and he would stop at nothing to gain information out of you.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dom!inho, sub!reader, non-con touch, age gap, oral f!receiving, fingering, hickeys, use of ropes/tied up, betrayal, stripping, toxic relationship, orgasm denial

———

The first thing you noticed was the softness beneath you—luxurious sheets that felt entirely foreign after the cold, hard floor of the hall. Blinking awake, your arms tugged instinctively, only to be met with resistance. Your wrists were tied to the bedposts, the smooth silk of the restraints deceptively gentle against your skin but firm enough to hold you in place. Panic bubbled in your chest as your eyes darted around the room.

It wasn’t like anywhere else you’d seen in this nightmare of a game. The room was extravagant, draped in rich fabrics and gilded accents, a far cry from the stark, utilitarian halls where the other players remained. The flickering light from a crystal chandelier above cast shifting shadows on the walls, adding to the eerie stillness.

“Where… where am I?” you murmured, your voice trembling. The silence pressed against you, broken only by the distant hum of machinery. You tugged harder against the restraints, your breath quickening. “Let me go!” you called out to no one in particular.

A creak at the far end of the room made your head snap toward the sound. A figure stepped into view, cloaked in black, their face hidden behind the sleek, metallic mask that sent chills through you. The mask’s emotionless design contrasted cruelly with the humanity you desperately searched for.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your voice rising despite the fear knotting in your throat. “Where am I? What’s going on?” You struggled against the restraints, the silk cutting slightly into your wrists.

The figure tilted their head, the movement slow, calculated. They took a step closer, then another, the weight of their presence suffocating. Finally, their gloved hand reached up, gripping the edge of the mask.

Time seemed to slow as they pulled it off, revealing a face you knew all too well.

“Young-il?” you breathed, disbelief flooding every syllable. Your heart twisted painfully, as though the air had been stolen from your lungs.

He smirked, the expression sharp, almost cruel, and yet it sent an unwelcome flutter through your chest. “Surprised, angel?” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey laced with poison.

The nickname, one he’d used during the games, felt like a blade twisting in your heart. It was a cruel reminder of who you thought he was—the ally who had stood by your side, shared quiet moments of understanding, and made you feel safe.

And yet here he was, towering over you, not as a fellow player but as something far more sinister.

“You…” Your voice cracked as you stared at him, your emotions tangling into a knot of betrayal and heartbreak. “You lied to us. To me. You’re one of them.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a mockery of all the warmth you once thought he possessed. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said, his tone playful but undercut with a dangerous edge. “I was doing what I had to. We all are.”

Your lip trembled, but you set your jaw, glaring at him even as your chest ached. “I trusted you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “...I loved you.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, a flicker of something softer passing through his eyes. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same icy exterior. He moved closer after taking off his coat to reveal a black tight fitted shirt underneath.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he hovered over your tied-up vulnerable body, both his legs on either side of your hips.

“I’m not here to talk about feelings, Y/N,” he said, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed against your cheek. “I need information.”

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His hand cupped your jaw, gently but firmly turning your face back to him. The touch sent a jolt through you, confusing and unwelcome. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice a quiet warning. “I know you’re close to Gi-hun. He trusts you. Now, tell me about that plan he told you.”

“No,” you said, the word shaking but resolute. “I won’t betray him. I won’t betray them.”

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Oh, angel,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

Before you could protest, his lips captured yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It was unexpected, overwhelming, and despite everything, it ignited something in you that you couldn’t suppress. Your resolve wavered as his hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

When he pulled away, you were left reeling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. “Now,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding, “tell me.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from speaking. He tilted his head, his eyes scanning your body up and down, beneath him. He then caressed the side of your upper body, his hand making his way to your jacket zipper.

Shit, you weren't wearing a bra underneath today, nor a shirt, because it was supposedly bedtime. Slowly, he undid your zipper, exposing your cloth-less skin. "No bra?"

You laid beneath him shaking your head slightly, now bare, even more vulnerable.

"Look at you, so fucking pretty..." He then leaned in, "I might have to be rough if you don't tell me what I want..." He cooed, almost mockingly. His lips ghosting over yours, teasing, before pressing another kiss to them, sucking lightly. This time, your body betrayed you entirely, melting into him despite the storm of emotions crashing within you. Straightening himself up, he pulled your pants down while still hovering over you, leaving you in your undies. He pressed his thumb to your throbbing clit, with pressure before slowly stroking your folds over the fabric of your undies.

“Stop,” you whispered, though the word lacked conviction. “Please...” Yet, he continued, slipping two fingers inside your undies before stroking your folds again. You tried to resist his touch, you hated this, you hated him for betraying you guys. But your body felt differently. Trying to resist the pleasure, you forced yourself to not react, however, your body kept twitching under his touch and from all the pleasure building up.

“Then talk,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a velvet threat.

The push and pull was too much. Your heart warred with your mind, your love for him tangling with the sharp sting of his betrayal. "I won't." You spat, and he responded by inserting two fingers harshly inside you. You moaned, tilting your head back, panting heavily as he began pumping in and out of you. "Stop..." You pleaded, whimpering as he picked up his pace. Your breathing was heavy, gosh, he managed to make you feel so good, you were like putty under his control. "You tell me to stop, yet your body tells me otherwise...." His voice was low, sensual, "...so fucking wet for me..."

You felt your climax near approaching, your heartbeat quickening, you were close. "Young-il..." You plead, once more. "I'm gonna....I'm getting close..." Barely a whisper came out, your eyes shut tightly, body melting under his touch. "I'm gonna cum..."

He continued, pumping deeper and faster, and your climax was getting close and closer until...

He pulled his fingers out.

"Don't stop please..." You begged, "please Young-il I need you..." You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so needy, begging for more. No matter how mad you were, a part of you still wanted him. He smirked, seeing how needy you were for him which also fuelled his own desire. His bulge was evident, pressing against your thigh.

Young-il stroked your cheeks softly, "Oh Y/N, you'll get what you want...once you tell me his plan."

"I already told you I won't." You retort. "Such a stubborn, pretty mouth, hm?" He gazed into your eyes, filled with lust. He wanted you so bad, he'd do anything to make his name fall from your pretty mouth again.

He bent down, planting sloppy kisses on your collarbone down to your stomach. Sucking harshly till he left a bruise, "You'll look even more gorgeous with my marks all over you." Shifting down, Young-il moved closer to your cunt, making eye contact while he licked your folds.

"Young-il..." You moaned, body involuntarily arching, bucking your hips up into his face. Placing his hands on the velvety part of your inner thighs, he parted your legs wider before leaning in again to place kitten licks on your cunt.

"You taste so good angel..." He murmured into you.

He made sure to suck on your clit, with extra pressure, licking between the folds, slowly but sensually. "Young-il please..." You whimpered.

He pulled away slightly, "You want me to let you cum?"

"Please..." You begged, breathing heavily.

"Please what?" He retorted, "Use your words beautiful."

"Please make me cum..." You whined, before he continued, licking your whole slit, your became wetter by the second, body begging for more.

"The plan." He demanded you to tell him, "Now." Before pulling away again.

You groaned, wanting more, needing more. Your body so close filled with arousal, yet so far from a climax.

He leaned down once more, sucking on your clit again.

"The guards!-" You cried aloud, overwhelmed with pleasure. "An attack at midnight..." You moaned softly.

"Anything else?" Young-il smirked, knowing the control he had over you. "That's Gi-hun's plan...attack management at midnight when they've assumed we're asleep." You blurt out, which you immediately regretted. You told him what he wanted to know—about Gi-hun’s plan, the uprising, the desperate hope for freedom. Satisfied, Young-il sucked harder, licking every inch of your cunt with fervour. You moaned loudly, panting heavily as you came closer to a climax.

"I'm so close...gonna cum..." You arched your back further, "I'm gonna..." Then it washed over you, your body jerking harshly as it filled with pleasure. Your walls throbbed, and you felt a rush to your core; you let out a moan, hands tangling in Young-il's hair as you came.

When you finished, he pulled back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He reached out, brushing a hair from your face with a gentleness that felt like a cruel mockery. “Good girl,” he said softly.

You turned your face away, tears slipping silently down your cheeks as guilt and shame consumed you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, "See that wasn't so hard was it." Young-il zipped up your jacket and helped you put on your track pants but still leaving you tied up.

He stood up, getting off the bed, “Not a word of this to anyone,” he said, his voice cold and unfeeling once more. “If you do, they’ll die. Every last one of them.”

You nodded, unable to speak. "Sleep here for tonight, the bed is more comfortable." He spoke while putting on his jacket, "When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be back in the hall with the others. I'll see you there angel." He winked, placing the mask back over his face before walking away.

Your body tremlbed as the door closed behind him.

Despite everything, your heart still ached for him. And that, more than anything, was the cruelest twist of all.